Chapter 7 – Chapter 7

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 for years and years 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.