Part Seven
Wardo fucked me with his eyes open the next morning. I was on my back, and
I overcame my timidity and talked him through it, slowing him down so he
could fuck me properly. We stared at each other as I held his sides and
hips. I came before he did. I was surprised when, after he came, he lowered
himself onto me, smearing my cum and our sweat between us and kissing me. I
wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him into me. He dozed off as I
tickled his back. I dozed off after he did.
When we woke up, we showered together. I washed him first, barehanded. I
wanted to feel every inch of him.
He washed me when I had finished washing him. I wasn't sure what he would
do when he got to my crotch, but he didn't hesitate, soaping me completely.
I got hard as he did.
"Come up here," I said. "Let's jack each other off while we make out."
Wardo took me in his hand and lowered his mouth to mine. We came as we
kissed, spraying each other.
"That was hot, Jeffrey," he said. Wardo had always used my full Christian
name.
"It was," I said, before I lowered myself to his dick to lick some of my
cum off of him.
"That was not," he said, when I raised back up.
"Don't knock it until you try it," I warned.
*****
We spent the day at Wrigley Field, watching the Cubs get trounced by the
Bucs. We were drunk on Miller Lite by the time we wandered home for a nap.
Without talking, we both stripped naked and climbed into bed. We slept with
Eddie wrapped around me, holding hands. As I dozed off, I thought "this is
more than sex."
When I woke up, Eddie was sitting up reading my book.
"Hey, sleepy," he said.
"How long have you been awake?" I asked.
"About half an hour. I watched you sleep for awhile and then grabbed your
book." I was reading "1964," the story of racial integration through the
Cardinals/Yankees World Series.
"What do you want to do tonight?" I asked.
"You," he responded, smiling.
"I think I'm going to do you tonight," I answered, smiling back.
Eddie rolled toward me and pulled me into him. "Oh, you do, do you?"
"I do."
"Why don't you do me right now?"
I pulled my face back. "Are you sure?"
"I am."
I took my time getting him ready. By the time I was ready to enter him, I
was as hard as a rock and knew I would not last long. I took him face down,
thinking it would be easiest on him. I came too fast, before I could find
his prostate and show him that being fucked could be pleasurable. I felt
like a teenager with no dick control.
"Sorry. That was too quick."
"You'll go slower next time."
I was intoxicated by the promise of next time as I took Eddie's dick into
my mouth and gave him the longest, slowest blow job I could. I worked my
finger in and out of his ass as I sucked him, searching for his button.
When I found it, he flinched and came, filling my mouth.
"What the hell was that?" he asked when I was done and next to him,
nuzzling my head into his neck.
"Your prostate. If I could find it while I'm fucking you, you'd see why gay
men like getting fucked."
"I don't mind it. But, I can't imagine liking it."
"That's because I haven't found your prostate yet. When I do, you'll go
nuts." As I laid there, it occurred to me that we were talking like lovers,
not friends. It also occurred to me it was the easiest love affair I had
ever started. We already knew everything about each other. We had already
seen each other through deaths and tragedies. And, we already loved each
other, like only best friends could. All we had to work out was the sex,
and the evidence suggested that would not be a problem.
*****
Chicago and all it has to offer were just outside my door, but we stayed in
that night, eating pizza on the living room floor and talking like a
couple. I wanted to ask what was going on, but I feared doing so would
break the spell.
Eddie leaned against the couch with my head in his lap, playing with my
hair. My hand was under his legs. Something was on television, but I don't
think either of us was watching whatever it was.
"I should probably give you a blow job," he said, out of the blue and very
matter of factly. I turned my face to his and raised my eyebrows.
"I mean, we've done everything else. So, we should probably do that."
"You don't have to."
"I know. But I kind of want to. I love when you blow me. I'd kind of like
to make you feel the way you make me feel. . . . Is it hard?"
"No, but it's getting there."
"That's not what I meant."
"I know. I was being funny. . . . It's not hard for me. It's one of my
favorite things."
"Does it taste bad?"
"It depends on what you're talking about. A dick itself does not really
have a taste. It's maybe a little salty. But, it's just skin. Like a
finger, only smoother. And softer. Cum has a taste. It can be bitter. It
can be sweet. It depends on what you've eaten."
"I'm not sure I'll be able to let you come in my mouth," he said.
"You don't have to."
"Is it bad if I don't?"
"You've been blown, so you know it feels better if you do. A lot. But, you
don't have to. If you do, you don't have to swallow it. You can spit it
out."
"Okay," he said. "I'm ready. Let's do this."
I stood up and stepped out of my shorts. I was hard from the talk of him
blowing me. I moved in front of him and put my dick in front of his face.
He looked at it from both sides, like he was inspecting it. He dabbed the
precum off with his forefinger and wiped it on my leg. Just when I thought
he might chicken out, he opened his mouth and took my head in. His mouth
was wet and warm and I wanted to push the rest of my dick in as far as I
could. I resisted, but it was tough.
He took me in a little farther. I felt him gag a little.
"You really don't have to do this, Eddie."
He looked up at me, my dick still in his mouth. He pulled back a little and
then went back down. Our eyes locked, he started moving back and forth on
my dick. I couldn't believe what I was seeing as my dick disappeared and
then reappeared, over and over. It was not a great blow job, but the visual
was magical. I warned him that I was about to come. He pulled off, and I
jacked a load onto his chest. I almost fell down when he dabbed his finger
into it and tasted it. I used my shorts to clean the rest of me off of him,
and then settled back into him. He put his arms around me, and I
intertwined my hands in his.
"What did you think?" I asked.
"It wasn't horrible. After yesterday and today, I thought it might taste
like vodka."
"Not about that. About the blow job."
"Oh. It was about how you described it. I'll get used to it."
There it was again. Talk like this was the start of something, not an
interlude. It was all I could do not to explore the issue. I am not Job. I
want to know right now all there is to know. I do not like allowing things
to play out.
I resisted the urge to explore. Instead, I reached my hand back and held
his cheek. He folded his head into my hand. "Eddie, you're my best friend,"
I said, adopting the voice of Jessica Tandy from Driving Miss Daisy.
"I'm glad," Eddie offered back. "I'm really, really glad."
Eddie wrapped his legs around mine. We sat like that for a long time,
inhaling and exhaling together. I must have dozed off. Eddie woke me up,
echoing Top Gun by whispering "Jeffrey, you big stud, take me to bed or
lose me forever" in my ear.
Eddie fucked me missionary style once we were in bed. When he was finished,
he blew me again. I should have warned him that I was going to come, but I
got lost in it. I came in his mouth. He gagged, but he didn't stop. When he
was done, he raced to the bathroom and spit my cum in the sink.
When he was settled back beside me, I apologized for not warning him.
"Don't worry about it," he said. "I've never warned you."
As we laid there waiting for sleep to settle over us, I felt like I was on
the edge of a cliff. I decided to dangle one foot off.
"I love you, Edward."
"I love you, too, Jeffrey."
I wanted to jump, but I didn't. Instead, I leaned over and kissed him
good-night.
Part Eight
When I woke up, Eddie was in the kitchen making breakfast and listening to
his iPod. I poured myself coffee and watched him work. He really was a
beautiful man. His back was hairless. His calves were rippled. His hands
and feet were strong and thick and hairy. I made a note to suck his fingers
and toes the next time I sexed him.
"What time are you leaving today?" I asked, once he had slid my plate in
front of me.
"As late as possible."
We ate in silence. A very comfortable silence.
After we cleaned up, Eddie led me by the hand back to bed. After he took me
on my back and finished me with his mouth, he leaned on his elbow and
tickled my hairless chest and stomach.
"What are you thinking?" I asked.
"That I was right about two guys."
"How so?"
"That there'd be a lot of touching. I've never been touched so much. And,
that there's be a lot of sex. We've had more sex this weekend than Jenny
and I have had this year. Is it always like this?"
"I've only had two relationships," I said. "In both, the sex trailed off a
little. And, I mean only a little. There was still a lot of it. There's no
one to say no. I assume I've been told no, but I don't remember it."
"I'm not going to tell you no."
"So, I can fuck you?" I asked.
"You can."
I did. Slowly, on his back, so I could stare into his eyes while I gave
myself to him. He jacked himself as I fucked him. We came at the same time.
I licked his cum off his chest and stomach when I was finished. I continued
down his body, licking his hip bone, his thighs, his calves, and his feet.
I sucked his toes. He cringed as I did.
"My feet are really ticklish."
He should not have shared that. I chewed on the ball of his foot. He tried
to pull his foot away, but I wouldn't let him.
We spent the day in bed. Around noon, I went to the kitchen and returned
with syrup. I drizzled it all over Wardo and then licked him clean. Around
four, he swallowed my cum for the first time, using a finger of syrup to
dilute the taste. Around five, he decided he needed to get on the road.
"I don't want to leave," he said.
"I don't want you to leave."
"Can I come back next weekend?"
"Sure. But, isn't Jenny going to pissed?"
"I'll take care of Jenny," he said, emotionlessly.
*****
We talked every night that week, usually long into the night. Neither of us
broached the subject of what we were doing and where we were headed, but I
expected it to come up over the weekend.
It did, but not immediately. I greeted Eddie at the door and kissed him.
"Let's go to bed," he said, as soon as he could break the kiss. We did, and
Eddie fucked me greedily as soon as we were naked. When he finished, he
stayed on top of me, kissing my mouth and nose.
"I'm going to cancel the wedding."
"Why?" I asked.
"You . . . . This . . . . Us."
"Eddie, you need to think about this. You're not gay."
"I'm not sure how you can say that so certainly. We're doing a lot of gay
stuff together, Jeffrey. And I like it. A lot. Maybe that's why I've
avoided marriage for so long."
"Or, maybe you're just taking a final walk on the wild side, in the safety
of an old friend, before you get married and settle down"
"Look," he said. "You're my best friend. Ever. And, now, my lover. It's the
best of everything. I've never felt the way I felt last weekend and this
week. Something's flipped for me. I missed you so much. You're all I
thought about all week. I didn't want to see Jenny. I definitely didn't
want to fuck her. I can't marry her. It wouldn't be fair to her. It would
be an awful thing to do to her, actually."
"Eddie, are you sure this isn't just a phase?"
"Come on, Jeffrey. We've been best friends for thirty years. Did Vegas feel
like a phase to you? Did last weekend feel like a phase to you?"
"No."
"Well, it doesn't feel like a phase to me, either. It feels like forever.
And, I'm ready for forever to start right now."
I walked to him, took his hands in mine, and kissed him. We stood in the
middle of the room, making out, thirty years of love pouring out and into
each other.
We spent the weekend in bed. We sexed a lot. Wardo told me he liked it best
when I straddled his chest and jacked off. He liked the view from below me
as I came.
When we weren't sexing, we plotted a future together. For awhile, we'd have
to commute back and forth. As soon as we could, we were going to settle on
a city and start a life together.
After breakfast on Sunday, we laid face to face on the sofa, kissing.
"What are you thinking?" I asked.
"I wish you had told me in high school. Or that I wouldn't have gotten
freaked out after Paris. We've lost a lot of time."
"Life works out," I philosophized. "We may not have been ready for this
then. We might've fucked it up and missed it."
"Maybe. But, I doubt it. Best friends since kindergarten seems like a
pretty solid foundation on which to build a life together."
"It does," I agreed, kissing his mouth and then his nose and then his
forehead.
"Do you think we'll run out of things to talk about?" he asked.
"I doubt it. If we haven't already, I doubt we ever will."
*****
Eddie and I have been best friends for forty years and lovers the last ten.
We settled easily and quickly into us. I expected Eddie to have doubts and
to want to experiment with others, if in fact he was gay. He didn't.
I'm still not sure he's gay. I know he's in love with me. Deeply and madly
so.
But, he doesn't seem interested at all in other men. He turns his head to
follow her when a beautiful woman walks by, but not when a beautiful man
does. He doesn't gawk at the hot men at the gym. He barely notices them.
He barely watches porn. When he does, it's straight.
Our sex life is great But, it's clear I'm more into his body than he is
into mine. I love touching him and can't keep my hands off of him. He's not
nearly as obsessed with me.
We settled in Denver, mostly for the sunshine, the golf, and the skiing. We
are both doing well, and we live in the city, right on Washington Park. We
have a great old house and two awesome retrievers, both golden. We call
them Uno and Dos.
We belong to Cherry Hills. Every time we drive in, we sing Neil Diamond's
"Cherry Cherry" and laugh. We laugh a lot. We have more fun than any couple
we know. We do almost everything together, and we have yet to grow tired of
each other. It's like we were when we were little boys.
Wardo's family did not take the cancellation of the wedding well. They
loved Jenny, and he couldn't tell them why he had decided he couldn't marry
her. For all they know, we are just roommates, lifelong friends who settled
in the same city and are still looking for the right women to marry.
My mother took our coupling way better than I expected. "You've always been
in love with each other," she observed. "Even when you were little boys.
You were soul mates from the first day of kindergarten."
As we look back, we agree with her. We've loved each other since that first
nap that first day of school. We owe that love to Mrs. Joyce, who first
paired us up. And, that love has been an excellent foundation on which to
build our life together.
