To the Most Gallant Gentleman of Wilmington, We were roommates and friends, brothers of a kind, and whatever it was we were on the bed that afternoon and several other afternoons and evenings and mornings before it. He was what they now call “the top,” but back then, to us, who didn’t know any better, he was just the one who liked it that way best. We made out, and touched our favorite parts on each other, their sheer masculinity a thrill and contrast to our other life, and then he blew me again, and I blew him, and he sprayed it up my ass, his second fuck of me that afternoon. They were as much our shelter that day as the sunny 1960ish dorm that housed us. We shared the same sun, see? So it was all in the same world, and so their mere existence near us, with all their normality and Dan-Quayle values, proved that it wasn’t weird, that it was the same world, and the world didn’t fall apart. As for them, they look happy, from afar, and I think my wife and I are happy, too.īut I wonder if he feels what I feel, that I’ve never been as close to anyone as I was to him, and that, somehow, all those little towns and homes in Indiana were part of it. I didn’t marry Tiffany, but I married a woman like her, years later. We graduated two days later, our parents and grandparents in town, and Angela and he married that fall. It wasn’t gay, but only because it was 1993. “Guy,” he whispered back, and turned, and kissed my shoulder. i squeezed my sphincters, making it last, and shut my eyes more tightly. My cock stiffened, and he rubbed it more slowly than he fondled my balls, letting his thumb trace every edge of its tip. His arm still covered his eyes, and I closed mine. He fondled them more, sometimes just his fingertips. He reached over, after a bit, one arm still over his eyes, and fondled by balls. The silence between us grew, and the cars running to their little homes and farms filled it. And here, just miles away, we lay naked, wet and happy, in the same sun that shined on all of them. But I knew what lay there, little towns with little schools, centennial farms, and old-fashioned ways. We never ventured far off campus, south or east. Sometimes we’d head to the lake, but that took us north, and west was home, the suburbs. Campus had been our world for four years, and of course the restaurants, bars, and Walgreens around it. Somehow, those little towns were a comfort in that moment. We didn’t really touch each other, not much, outside of the fucking.ĭistantly, we could hear the traffic on the highway breezing past us, cars and trucks with unknown drivers, sinking deep into nameless fields and towns. “Yeah, me, too.” I leaned over, kissed him lightly, and then laid on my back next to him. I rubbed his chest, and he smiled faintly.
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A drop of cum had trickled its way from his pubes to the mattress, streaking his hip and moistening my knee. I let go of the shade and crawled back onto the narrow bed, my knees and his left hip bumping briefly.