Date: Tue, 17 Nov 2009 18:58:40 -0800 (PST)
From: Peder Pederson <pederdagreat@yahoo.com>
Subject: Daedalus Chapter Four

IV.
1992
Flying

	Ajit had seen Bryon Bradford a number of times after that chance
meeting in Chicago. Each meeting contained incidents, perceptions, feelings
that built one upon the other, as the stones of a foundation.
	The first time: came three months later. He had been finishing up
the conclusion to his dissertation, one afternoon when his phone rang.
	"Ajit?"
	"Yes."
	"This is Bryon Bradford, How are you?"
	"Well, hello, just fine, thank you, and yourself?"
	"Fine, I hope I'm not disturbing you."
	"No, not at all."
	"I just got into town and wondered if you'd be free for dinner
tonight?"
	"Yes, I have nothing planned."
	"Good. Shall we meet, say . . .8:00 at The New French Cafe?"
	"That would be fine, see you then."
	That evening, Ajit entered the restaurant, was greeted by the
effusive Maitre d' and said, "I'm to meet Mr. Bradford this evening."
	The Maitre d's eyebrow arched, conspiratorially and gushed, "Oh,
yes! Right this way, Sir," and led Ajit to Bryon's table.
	They greeted each other warmly and Ajit took his seat.
	"Would you be having the same cocktail this evening, Sir," the
Maitre d' inquired.
	"Yes, please," Ajit answered, surprised that he would remember.
	"Do you come here often?" queried Bryon.
	Understanding the reason for the question, he answered, "No, as a
matter of fact, the last time was when we met. He has a fantastic memory,"
he added, referring to the Maitre d'.
	"I think a memory for a handsome face is more apropos," mused Bryon
with a chuckle.
	Ajit broke into a smile, "Yes, I suppose you're right."
	The Chopin martini was served and Bryon asked with some interest,
"How have you been, Ajit?"
	"Fine," he answered, took a swallow of the iced martini and added,
"It's a wonder what a lot of hard work can do for a person."
	"Yes," acknowledged the older man, "I've found it has its own kind
of balm. . . ." Then with a serious tone to his voice he stated, "Ajit, I
was a bit concerned about you at out last meeting. You were obviously quite
depressed. Understandably so," he added. "I took the liberty of contacting
a couple of my associates and inquired about the Colewoods."
	Ajit's eyebrows raised questioningly as he voiced, "Oh?"
	Bryon took a swallow of his cocktail and continued,
"Yes. Apparently, beyond the sketchy description I gave you last time, the
Colewoods are members of the 'tight-assed,' uppermost social strata on the
East Coast. As in most families, there are a skeleton or two. You knew
Cynthia had a brother, didn't you?"
	"Yes, his name's Richard."
	"That's right. Well, presumably Richard was born seven and a half
months after Morgan and Elyse Colewood were married, actually
eloped. Supposedly, there was quite an explosion within the staid,
outwardly stable Veneble family. The old man Veneble, Elyse's father, was
none too happy. Elyse was his only child and Morgan came from an
impoverished old family which had long slipped from the social
register. There was talk, as there always is in a case like this, that
Richard was not Morgan's child."
	"Really?" Ajit questioned with a slight chuckle.
	"There were all sorts of rumors surrounding the possible
father. Apparently, most surrounded Old Veneble's young business partner
who, a year later, the old man bought out and he moved to the West
Coast. You must realize, Ajit, that none of this has been substantiated!"
	"Yes, I understand, but that might account for the cool, almost
hostile manner in which Cynthia would refer to her brother."
	Bryon nodded, and continued cautiously, "Ajit . . . about, ahh
. . . Cynthia. . . She was married last week . . . to the scion of an old
Louisiana family. . ."
	Ajit's eyes widened in disbelief, "What . . . !"
	"I'm so sorry, Ajit. . . ," he answered with concern, "I certainly
don't want to add to your discomfort, but I thought that you should know
. . . "
	"No, no . . . It's alright," he said, then he shook his head and
uttered, uncharacteristically a low, "Shit!" He emptied his glass.
	Bryon motioned to the Maitre d' to bring Ajit another drink and the
two sat in silence. He realized that Ajit required the silence to attempt
to file away, understand and accept the information he had just given
him. Ajit took a swallow of his second cocktail, his eyes focused on some
distant point. Bryon respected the process and waited for Ajit to emerge
from his miasma.
	After Ajit had recovered somewhat, they ordered and ate their
dinner in relative silence. Ajit consumed most of the wine. Bryon
understood. They had cognac--Bryon drank one snifter, Ajit two. By the time
they were finished, Bryon could see that Ajit has having trouble focusing
and asked him whether he would like coffee--the universal remedy. Ajit
refused and said that he should be getting back.
	Aware, that Ajit was quite drunk and also concerned somewhat with
his well being, Bryon drove Ajit to his apartment and helped him in.
	Ajit staggered to his bedroom, kicking off his shoes, discarding
his jacket and caromed off the bedroom door as he ripped open his shirt. He
vainly attempted to remove his trousers and fell, half-way across the
bed. Hesitantly, Bryon followed him, removed the socks from the prone
figure and inched the trousers off as well. Dazed, Ajit tried to remove his
briefs but gave up only being able to push them down to the crease of his
buttocks. Bryon admired those two, smooth mounds and carefully drew the
briefs down those long legs and tossed them onto the chair with Ajit's
trousers. Ajit rolled onto his back, legs apart, cock and balls hanging and
arms flung out to either side. Again, Bryon marveled at the beauty of that
recumbent body, took the throw from the foot of the bed and carefully
covered Ajit's nakedness. He reached over, placed a light kiss on his
forehead and quietly let himself out of the apartment.
	Two days later Bryon picked up his ringing, phone, saying, "Hello."
	"Bryon? This is Ajit."
	"Yes, Ajit, How are you feeling."
	"Fine, thank you. . . Bryon, I have to apologize for the other
night. My actions were inexcusable!"
	"Nonsense, Ajit . . . It was quite understandable."
	"I want to thank you for your concern . . . and, ah . . . did I
. . . did anything happen?" he asked, referring to the nude state that he
found himself in the next morning.
	"Nothing happened at all," Bryon assured him.

	The second time: they met was after the New Year, Ajit had gone to
Madison to visit university friends and rang up Bryon on the phone.
	"What a pleasant surprise," Bryon said.
	"I'm sorry I haven't contacted you before, but I was finishing up
my dissertation and preparing for my oral defense, and the time just
slipped by," he offered in the way of a tacit apology.
	"I understand, no excuse needed. How did your defense go?"
	"Fine, everything's done."
	"Then you're Dr. Ajit Miller?"
	"Yes, but never among friends."
	Bryon smiled at term 'friends.' "Maybe, it's a bit late in time,
but, would you like to come over for a drink to celebrate, Dr. Miller?"
	"Yes, I'd like that. . . and remember, it's Ajit!
	Later, that evening Ajit and Bryon were comfortably seated in the
latter's living room. Their conversation had included Ajit's degree
progress, Bryon's recent business trip to Norway, Ajit's acceptance of
Cynthia's disappearance from his life, their reaction to recent political
events, and then, mere trivia. It was Bryon who opened the door to that
area of their first meeting.
	"Have you heard from or seen Maarja, lately," he asked.
	"No. . . not for four or five years . . . ," he answered.
	"I thought that you two were 'an item'?"
	Ajit smiled, "Not really," he admitted, then added, "Our
relationship was certainly not Platonic, however," he chuckled, "she was
quite accomplished in bed, actually, very accomplished!" He cocked his
eyebrows knowingly and laughed.
	"Really?" came Bryon's knowing reply, tinged with erotic
implications.
	Their conversation had taken a definite turn into the lanes of the
carnal. Neither were completely aware of the implications.
	Ajit, warmed by the two scotches he had been sipping and
acknowledging the growing closeness, the developing friendship that he felt
to Bryon, added with a light laugh, "She could bring the cock of a
hundred-year-old to throbbing life."
	Bryon threw back his head in laughter. "That really creates some
marvelous images in my mind," he admitted.
	"Yes, well still when I think of her, which is not too frequently,
mind you, I must admit that the thought of some of her 'techniques' still
arouse me," Ajit acknowledged. Briefly, he cupped his crotch to emphasize
the point. Again they both laughed without any self-consciousness. His mind
roamed back to that point in time, a point of building in his life. And
reconsidered all that had transpired--a stream of consciousness.
	"Have you heard from or seen George, lately?" he asked. Not really
knowing why he had asked, but there it was!
	"George . . .?" questioned Bryon.
	"George . . ah, George Poulous."
	"Oh, yes," recognition flooding his face, "He was at 'The Party'
that night."
	"Yes."
	"Quite a handsome well built Greek . . . history major, wasn't he?
. . ." Bryon mused, and then added, ". . . with rather a big cock, as I
remember."
	"Quite big, actually," Ajit admitted. "Why did I say that?" he
asked himself!
	Bryon lifted a questioning eyebrow, was about to say something,
changed his mind and then stated, "I believe I heard he was married with a
couple of children and living in St. Louis. . . , I think." Then he added,
"Were you two . . . close?" choosing his words carefully.
	"Close and not really close," he answered cryptically and paused.
	Ajit had perceived a growing bond of understanding between the
two. He felt that Bryon was someone he could talk to about a whole range of
issues, problems, ideas. . . When he had met Cynthia he had transferred all
his energies, for a time, into building that relationship. He had
neglected, understandably, his male friends, the ones in whom he could
confide. Then after Cynthia, his pain and loss, naturally isolated him from
these confidants. Now, at the back of his mind he knew that he needed
someone in whom he could confide, his conscious mind had carefully chosen
Bryon. He continued, "After that party, we got together a couple of
times. . . rather torrid, experimental meetings."
	A knowing smile spread across Bryon's face. "Ahhh! I
understand. Such contacts can be very enlightening . . . and rewarding," he
acknowledged. "I remember a similar association after my divorce. I got
drunk one night with an old college friend of mine. Well, one thing led to
another and we ended in bed. Quite instructive, not to mention very
physical and passionate," he recalled. "I was a bit embarrassed immediately
afterwards--it was my first time--but not too embarrassed as we met three
or four times after that. . . They were very gratifying encounters!" he
admitted, smiling.
	"It's amazing how agreeable sex with a man can be," Ajit admitted,
completely comfortable in the openness of the conversation and the
beginning friendship.
	"Agreeable? Yes," admitted Bryon, "agreeable and . . . also
fulfilling." Bryon could not help but allow his eyes to roam over Ajit's
face and body.
	Ajit understood and accepted 'agreeable' but he pondered the
implication of 'fulfilling.' In so doing, he thought that he perceived a
growing bulge in Bryon's pants mirroring his own swelling. "Why," he
questioned to himself. Absentmindedly he adjusted the lengthening cock, a
movement that did not go unnoticed.
	"I have come to the realization that intimacy can be non-physical
as well as physical," philosophized Bryon, trying to avoid staring at
Ajit's crotch.
	"Mmmm . . . ," said Ajit, as a form of assent.
	"And,"he continued, "that both forms of intimacy--physical and
non-physical--are not the exclusive province of heterosexual
relationships."
	"Mmmm . . . ?" questioned Ajit. His mind began to consider the
implications of Bryon's statements, and in so doing his burgeoning cock
began to relax.
	"I mean that same sex couples can, and often do have intimate
physical and non-physical relationships. They can be completely intimate on
all levels."
	Ajit slowly nodded his head in understanding.
	"Further, I believe, I know that someone . . . a man, for example
can have and intimate, complete, fulfilling relationship with a woman at
one point in his life, and the same kind of a relationship with a man at
another point, or vice-versa. Neither relationships negating the other."
	"You mean . . . bisexual?" Ajit asked tentatively.
	"Yes, the most misunderstood and the least studied, clinically, of
any human experience! Good, god, historically, it's been an accepted fact,
and even now-a-days it is, if not an accepted practice, at least a custom
routinely participated in by most married--quote, heterosexual, end
quote--men in the Middle East, if not the rest of the world! In reality
they are not exclusively heterosexual nor exclusively homosexual. The 'gray
area' is wide and varied," he stated with some force of logic.
	"I understand what you're saying. I hadn't considered all the
implications . . . but, what about those apparently exclusive relationships
we all know about--heterosexual and homosexual."
	"Exclusivity in any human experience, endeavor or relationship has
never been a proven, genetic given . . . except, possibly, our exclusive
ability to be narrow-minded and stupid."
	Ajit threw back his head and laughed. "You have a way with words,"
he acknowledged. "But, you're implying that man cannot have an exclusive
relationship! That we as humans cannot be committed to one person, or one
idea, or . . ."
	"Not at all. Not. . . at. . . all. Man, the human being can be
exclusive, but that exclusivity is, in the end, by-and-large a totally
conscious choice, not a biological imperative." Then Bryon stood and
announced, "Enough of this philosophizing. We're here to toast you
degree. Can I freshen your drink?"
	"Light, very light, please," said Ajit. "You know how I get when
I've had too much alcohol?"
	With a knowing smile and a lifted eyebrow, he admitted, "Yes, I
seem to recall a certain . . . Shall we say, 'looseness?'"
	"Touché. . . ," Ajit said, laughing.
	He handed Ajit his 'light' drink, and sat down again. They both
were lost in thought for a second or two. Bryon's musings brought a smile
to his face which Ajit perceived.
	He asked, "What's so amusing, Bryon?"
	"I was just thinking about George. He was magnificently endowed,
but, come to think of it . . . as I remember . . . so are you."
	Ajit declared, grinning, "As I remember, that wasn't the part of my
anatomy in which you were interested." Again the relicts of that evening
brought a swelling back to Ajit's cock.
	Bryon laughed, "Believe me, your cock didn't go unnoticed, but it
was otherwise occupied and you presented another aspect that caught my
attention." The memories duplicated the reaction in Bryon's crotch the same
bulging that was taking place in Ajit's.
	Ajit perceived the swelling in Bryon's pants. "It wasn't your
attention that I 'caught.' I remember something more substantial." Half
unconscious and half with purpose Ajit began to quietly massage his
distending cock. "I wish he'd take me . . . I want him," Ajit thought to
himself.
	The older man watched, then said, "If you keep that up. Ajit,"
nodding at the kneading hand, "Maybe I'll be forced to reinvestigate my
memory. . . . You think?"
	Ajit did not offer a reply to Bryon, verbally. The answer was in
his quiet stare and the continued massaging. For some unknown reason, Ajit
desired Bryon. He found this older man very sexy, that night.
	Slowly he slid his hips to the cushion's edge, with wanton desire
he unzipped his trousers as he leaned back and slid his hand inside his
fly. Bryon observed with quickening breath and a mounting desire. Truly
this had not been planned, or even thought about earlier, but he would not
discount the situation and surely would not pass up the opportunity. Beside
he too began to fondle his erect cock through his pant's fabric.
	Quietly, deliberately, he said, "Ajit, I would like to make love to
you." Ajit merely smiled and continued his manipulation. Slowly, Bryon
stood up, stepped over to where Ajit was sitting and knelt down between his
open thighs. He grasped those muscled thighs in both of his hands and
sensually, calculatingly ran them up and down their length.
	Ajit spread his legs even wider apart, watched and felt the hands
as they traveled over his covered, thighs' surface. Their touch sent
shivers of desire through his body.
	Bryon then moved one of his hands to that stuffed crotch and cupped
the massaging hand beneath. He smiled as Ajit withdrew his hand and allowed
him to replace it with his own. He could feel the warm, pulsating cock
through the cotton briefs and the opulent balls as they shifted beneath his
fondling fingers. He unbuttoned Ajit's trousers, 'V'd' open the the fly
button, hooked the brief's waist-band under the pendulous ball-sack and
watched as the cock, freed from its confines, as it stood tall, swaying and
proud.
	For a moment he merely regarded its incredible beauty. The cock's
dusky color, the long triple-muscled shaft, lightly laced with bluish
veins, the swelling of the mushroom-shaped head perceived under the satiny
foreskin, half revealing the glistening purple head and its narrow slit;
all this brought to him feelings of impending ecstasy. This pulsing, erotic
missile rising from its bed of curly, black cock-hairs and the heavy twin
orbs which were suspended beneath created untold joy in Bryon's mind and
being. He bent forward and tasted the half-exposed head, causing the whole
cock to jerk, involuntarily. Then he lightly grasped that ponderous prick
just below the flaring crown with his thumb and forefinger and slowly moved
them down the shaft, retracting the soft, silken sheath from its luminous
captive. He reversed directions and marveled as the loose skin at first
piled up against the spreading crest, then easily slipped over its
constraining ridge,
 half encasing the bulbous crest, and further until it covered that knob
ending in a frill of loosely puckered skin. He was mesmerized as he studied
its every delicious detail.
	His hands then cupped that hair-covered, sphere-encasing, dark
wrinkled sack that hung behind his cock. He hefted the orbs as if measuring
their weight. Then he released them allowing them to drop back to their
former, hanging position.
	Carefully, he grasped the waist-bands of the trousers along with
the briefs and began to tug them down. Accommodating the action, Ajit
brought his legs together, lifted his hips, kicked off his loafers and
watched as his pants and brief were removed. Bryon placed a hand on each of
Ajit's knees and lightly forced them wide apart. Again he leaned over and
began to suck that turgid, rigid, throbbing cock. Allowing it to sink deep
into his mouth and then out again. All the while his tongue actively
explored its sensitive surface as it plunged in and was drawn out. He ran
his tongue around the flaring crest and into the narrow slit. He plunged
that glorious muscle deep into his throat until his nose was buried in the
curly, mat of black cock-hairs. Then quickly retreating all the way,
creating a popping sound as the cock escaped his hot, moist lips.
	Ajit sat up, eroticized by Bryon's actions and reached for the
latter's cock.
	Bryon said gently but insistently, "No, Ajit. Not this time. I want
to make love to you." Ajit with a groan fell back against the cushions.
	Bryon turned his attention to those hairy balls: first licking one
and then the other until both were liberally covered with his hot
saliva. He moved forward and sucked one into his hot mouth and then both,
his tongue roving over their hairy surface. He released them and they fell,
juicy and wet to their previous position. He returned to that fabulous cock
and again sucked it deep into his drooling mouth. Saliva coursed over and
down the ball-sack before forming a small rivulet that ran into that dark
nether-region behind the pendulous sack. His head pistoned up and down the
pulsating shaft as one of his hands began to fondle the slick-wet
balls. Ajit began to groan compulsively. A finger traced the rivulet into
that dark crack 'til it came to the tight, little buttoned orifice. He
could feel Ajit spasm as his finger touched his ass-hole. The lubricated
finger began to knead that little puckered opening to the increasing groans
from deep in Ajit's
 throat. He lunged down on the quivering cock, forcing it deep into his
throat and at the same time forced his finger carefully into that tense
little mouth. Ajit gasped and flexed his hips. With a slow, easy rhythm
Bryon began to insert and then withdraw his finger into that hot tunnel
with its tight little mouth. He matched his finger's fucking motion to his
bobbing head. Ajit began to whip his head back and forth on the sofa's
back-cushion, groaning and gasping, alternately. Bryon increased both the
rhythm's frequency and the intensity of his finger fucking and cock
sucking.
	Ajit was quickly be brought to the edge of erotic release. His head
spun, his body was enveloped in quaking, sexual stimulation, there was no
conscious thought only his cock-centered and ass-centered being. He came to
the edge.
	Bryon sensed an expansion in the size of that already ample cock,
he felt the ball-sack contract and the sphincter muscle which surrounded
his finger began to ripple. Ajit was at the pinnacle.
	"Oh, god . . . Oh, GOD, Bryon. . . I'm COMING . . . I'MM
COMIIIING!" He arched his back and elevated his hips off the cushion.
	Bryon thrust his finger deep into Ajit's ass-hole and plunged down
on his cock as he felt spurt after hot spurt of pearly cum fill his
mouth. Then with a guttural gasp Ajit sank back, spent and panting. Slowly
Bryon removed his fucking finger and let his lips slip off the cum
slathered cock and it jerked one last time and slowly deflated to lie on
Ajit's left thigh.
	Without disturbing Ajit's glow, Bryon quickly went to the bathroom,
rinsed his mouth and returned with a hot, damp towel. Carefully he toweled
Ajit's detumescent cock and wet balls.
	"Oh, that feels good," crooned Ajit.
	Bryon merely smiled as he forced the steaming, moist fabric to the
relaxing ass-hole, held it against the still quivering opening for a few
seconds and gently rubbed its surface. Ajit lolled his head in pampered
relaxation and then sunk into a light sleep. Bryon covered him with a throw
and went to the kitchen. He prepared a steaming pot of coffee and returned
to the bathroom to take a hot shower. Himself refreshed and wearing a
terry-cloth robe he ran a tub of of very warm water, poured in some
relaxing bath oil and returned to the living room. Ajit was stretching into
wakefulness.
	"Ajit, I ran a hot tub for you. Go, climb in and I'll bring you a
good hot cup of coffee," Bryon said.
	"Thanks, that sounds good," he said tossing the throw aside, he got
up and walked to the bathroom while he removed his sweater and T-shirt.
	Bryon watched the retreating, bronze colored, muscled, nude body
disappear down the hall, into the bathroom and mused, "I could really learn
to love him."

	They met a number of times after that eventful evening--three times
in Chicago, twice in New York and once in Madison. Ajit having received his
degree was exploring his options on the job market. Their meetings were
brief, generally only two or three hours during which time they usually had
dinner and long conversations, mostly about Ajit's career choices. Bryon
was immensely helpful and supportive. He was a rock during that time of
searching often asking pointed questions that helped Ajit narrow his
options and focus.
	In addition, they had talked routinely on the phone--long, open
conversations. Their friendship had developed to where it became important
for both to keep regular contact. They did not come
together--sexually--during those times.
	Ajit had a number of interviews and two offers, none of which
really interested him. He had found that he had come to enjoy the area of
research. However, none of the three offers, all from international
corporate giants, really satisfied his interests. He did not want to be
'pegged.' He needed latitude and none of the positions that he was offered
supplied that need, that freedom.

	Late one afternoon, right after the first of the year, Bryon's
phone rang. "Hello," he answers.
	"Mr. Bradford, do you have any plans of dinner?"
	"Ajit, for god sakes . . .  Where are you?"
	"I repeat, Do you have any plans of dinner?"
	"No, no, I don't. But, where are you?"
	"About thirty miles south of Madison."
	"What are you doing there. . . You didn't tell me you were coming
to Madison. I should be a little annoyed, frankly."
	"Now, Bryon, as they say in America, 'don't get your pants in a
bundle.' I'll explain everything. I'll pick you up at seven, is that Okay?"
	"Yes, of course, but, I warn you I'm going to kick your ass."
	Ajit laughs, "'Til seven then. I have a surprise for you."
	"Ajit! . . . Hello?" The phone goes dead. "Damn," he says, a little
annoyed yet interested in what Ajit has to say. Normally this kind of
secretive conduct was not Ajit's customary behavior pattern.
	A few hours later, at precisely seven, Bryon's doorbell rings. He
opens the door and is met by an immaculately dressed Ajit. "Always on
time," he says, "Come in."
	Ajit enters and they embrace briefly in greeting.
	"Now, my friend, what is all this about," queries Bryon.
	Smiling Ajit answers, "I'm sorry, I didn't let you know before, but
I had an interview yesterday and today I was offered a position and
accepted."
	"Excellent! With whom?"
	"Beloit College."
	"Beloit College? Doing what?"
	"A teaching/research position," he grins as he watches Bryon's
incredulous face.
	"I'm at a loss! . . . . Fill me in."
	"Well the 'short of it' is: last Monday, I got a call from my
advisor at Chicago, and he told me that there was this position at Beloit
in which I might be interested. He had given them my name so when I called,
they asked me to fax them by resume and transcripts. They called me back
that day, described the position and all the P.R. stuff and asked if I
would consider an interview. I said yes, drove up yesterday. . . looked the
place over, they looked me over . . . actually, quite a grilling
interview. I was offered the position at two o'clock, accepted and I begin
at the end of the month."
	"My god, I can't believe it. What made you decide on teaching?"
	"Well, I'll be teaching one advanced seminar and the rest of the
time I'll be in research. They're starting a new program in International
Relations. It sounded really exciting and I'll be in on the ground
floor. . . and, besides you knew I had enjoyed teaching that assistantship
class I taught here."
	"Yes, I remember you mentioning it. Well you obviously seem happy,
and that's the most important thing."
	After a leisurely dinner, discussing Ajit's new position, they
return to Bryon's for a drink. Sitting on the sofa each with a drink they
continue to talk.
	Casually, Bryon says, "Of course, you'll stay here tonight."
	"I was hoping you'd ask."
	"Ask? Damn, Ajit! You know you don't need a special invitation."
	Ajit smiles, "Some times it's nice to know you're wanted." Saying
this Ajit bends over places his hand on the back of Bryon's neck and pulls
the latter's face towards him and kisses him, on the mouth. Bryon is
surprised.
	Bryon responds, then sits back with a amazed look on his face. All
the times that they had been together and the time that he had made love to
him, Ajit had never kissed Bryon on the lips. There is something incredibly
intimate about this kiss. Ajit seemed so relaxed in this action.
	"You don't like it? . . . You don't want it?" asks Ajit, his voice
tinged with concern.
	"Yes, of course I do," he emphatically admits, "But . . . "
	Ajit cuts off Bryon in mid-word by kissing him again. However, this
time the kiss is searching, longer, insistent and infinitely more
passionate. And, again Bryon responds with equal passion and asks to
himself, "What's going on?".
	"Bryon I have something to tell you . . . the surprise I
mentioned."
	"Surprise! Another? I don't know if I can take any more surprises
. . . tonight."
	Ajit smiles, slightly, a nervous smile. "I need to tell you
something. A couple of years ago when we met again in Chicago . . . . Do
you remember?"
	"Of course I do."
	"It seemed fated, now as I look back on it. You were marvelous, so
supportive during that difficult time. Then that time, after I had
completed my dissertation, here that evening . . . it was a bit one-sided
but marvelous . . . I wanted it so much. I wanted it even after, but I
thought that it might get in the way of the friendship that had
developed. Your friend ship is more valuable to me that a 'roll in the
hay,' as they say here."
	"I understand what you saying," Bryon says and thinks to himself,
"He's found someone."
	"Lord knows I enjoy sex, but sometimes it can get in the way. . ."
	"Yes, I know."
	"When I met Cynthia, all my energies were focused on her, on our
relationship. I realize now that I may have gone a bit overboard, but she
was my first real love . . . I was truly in love with her and when she
disappeared from my life I was completely cut adrift . . ."
	"I understand."
	"There was no one to confide in until we met again." Ajit gets up
and walks to the window. "But, now, I find that I have fallen in love
again. . ."
	"I knew it," admits Bryon to himself, and then he says to Ajit,
"Ajit, I'm really pleased, . . . happy for you. You deserve the best
. . . May I ask who the lucky . . . ah, . . . woman is?"
	Ajit turns to face Bryon, his face is deeply serious as he says in
an almost inaudible voice, "You. . ."
	"What?" Bryon asks incredulously.
	"Bryon, I know that we've never talked about this, but I've fallen
in love with you. . . . Do you mind?" The last again is said in almost a
whisper, soto voce.
	Bryon is momentarily silent as he contemplates this incredible
revelation and its implications. The two stare in silence at each other.
	"Ajit, I have never expected this. . . . ! Of course I don't mind."
He crosses to Ajit and enfolds him in a tender embrace, then steps
back. "But, I must admit I'm stunned . . . !"
	"I'm sorry, I didn't want to . . ." Ajit's sentence is stopped as
Bryon gently places his fingers over Ajit's lips.
	"Please, let me continue," he says as he steps back to arms
length. "When we remet that time in Chicago, I must admit that I really had
the 'hots' for you--I lusted over you--but your obvious distress mitigated
any action on my part. Then as we met and contacted each other after that,
there developed a . . . a friendship . . . Platonic, if you will . . . that
obviated any physical contact. I accepted that. Furthermore, let's admit it
. . . you are a superbly handsome young man and I am no Robert Redford as
well as my being fourteen years older than you. So I accepted the
friendship happily, although, I must admit I wanted a bit more!" Saying
this he smiles. Ajit begins to speak and again Bryon holds up his
fingers. "That night, after you had finished your degree requirements, I
must admit, my motives were completely selfish when I mad love to you. I
wanted one time . . . one last time. The ensuing months made me happy and
pleased that my action did not
 offend you or get in the way of our friendship. So when you say that you
love me . . . I'm really taken back . . . I never had dreamed . . . . Oh,
Ajit, I have loved you so much . . . I never . . . dreamed . . ." Tears
roll down his face, he brushes them away and starts to continue.
	This time, Ajit places his fingers to Bryon's lips. "That's all I
want to hear . . .that you love me. Nothing else matters at the moment." He
enfolds Bryon in his arms and kisses him on the lips and feels his body
shake with emotion.
	"Ajit, I do love you."
	"And, I love you Bryon."
	Ajit leads Bryon back to the sofa and the two hold each other in
silence.
	After a few minutes Bryon takes a deep cleansing breath and states,
"When you said that you had a surprise, you weren't kidding."
	"You're not upset, are you?"
	Smiling he answers, "What do you think?"
	"Then, can I spend the night here with you?"
	"Tonight? No way! I'm going to lock you in the bedroom for the
whole weekend!" he answers, laughing.
	"That's more than I expected," Ajit says, also laughing.
	"You expected less? Look here my friend, my love, I may be
forty-six, but I'll bet you I can keep up with you in the bedroom any day."
	"Well, what are you waiting for?" asks Ajit.
	He releases Bryon, stands up, walks quickly towards the bedroom,
shedding his clothes as he goes. Bryon follows and as he enters the
bedroom, Ajit stands nude in the middle of the room facing him. Bryon,
having peeled off his shirt, begins to unbuckle his pants. Hastily, Ajit
steps to Bryon, drops to his knees, wraps his arms around the latter's
upper thighs and tightly hugs, burying his face in Bryon's pants-covered
crotch and inhales deeply. Bryon runs his fingers through Ajit's black wavy
hair.
	Ajit releases Bryon, unzips his trousers and pulls them and his
briefs down to his ankles. Bryon's cock, not yet completely hard, arches
out from his curly mass of cock hairs. Immediately Ajit sucks that
hardening shaft into his mouth. Bryon bucks backwards, pulling his now hard
cock from Ajit's mouth.
	He reaches down, tilts Ajit's face upwards and says, "Do we have
time to get to the bed?"
	Ajit grins and says, "I'll give you two seconds."
	Hastily they move to the bed--the two reclining on the bed, deeply
kissing each other, groaning in anticipation. Ajit, pushes himself down
between Bryon's legs and pops his stiff, erect cock into his mouth. He
plummets down on that rock-hard cock, nearly as long as his own and equally
as thick. Bryon's cock is cut, heavily veined, the rouge-red head is heavy
. . . almost massive and Ajit marvels at its incredible stiffness in his
mouth. He pulls off the cock, popping his lips past the wide flaring
crown. He regards it, probes the slit with his tongue, then licks around
the flaring ridge and down the bulging underside. With his forefinger, he
gently traces the path his tongue has just taken, following each jutting
vein and then he fondles the ponderous ball-sack, bigger than his
own. Again he wraps his hot lips about the formidable head and slips down
the shaft, letting his lips detect the girth, length, and the veins until
his nose is buried in Bryon's
 lush cock-hairs--a veritable bush. Rhythmically he begins to suck that
wonderful cock in and out of his mouth. His hands move up to the
hair-sprinkled chest and onto the purplish tits with their large erect
nipples. He rolls the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and then
as he begins to suck with more fury, he increases the rolling
pressure. Bryon's body begins to pitch and arch in passionate arousal.
	He jack-knives to a seated position. Then he pulls Ajit's head and
mouth off his cock.
	He says, hoarsely, "Stop, I don't want to come yet. . . I want to
suck your cock!" They spin, in place until Ajit's head lolls off the foot
of the bed, his muscular thighs bracketing Bryon's kneeling form. Slowly,
Bryon jacks that magnificent cock, watching the sheath cover, then retract
from the purple head.
	"I never thought an uncut cock could turn me on so much," and he
slips his mouth over the exposed cock-head and ravenously sucks that dusky
prick. He reaches his hands around Ajit's waist and pulls body further up
on the bed.
	Then again he lifts off that ponderous dick and says, "My love
. . . . I want you to watch me. . . I want you to watch me sucking your
cock." Ajit lifts his head as his cock disappears into Bryon's mouth
again. The sight of his cock appearing and disappear into Bryon's mouth
coupled with the tactile sensation is electric. Up and down that heads
moves, in and out his cock vanishes only to reappear. The luxurious
sensation of those hot, moist lips gliding over skin and engorged muscle is
staggering in its erotic sensation. Bryon's hands snake over his lower
torso and onto his smooth, hairless, muscled chest to grasp and lightly
pinches his purplish-brown nipples. Ajit's hyper-eroticized state causes
his buttocks to flex and relax in small fucking motions in rhythm with
Bryon's bobbing head. He can feel himself being forced to the edge. Bryon
also senses the impending explosion and removes his mouth from that
throbbing, jerking cock. He, likewise, releases
 the nipples and reaches over to the bed-side table for a bottle of lotion
with which he liberally anoints two fingers.
	"Ajit," Bryon quietly calls.
	"Yes," comes the husky answer.
	"I want to play with your beautiful ass. . . ."
	"Oh, yessss."
	"Bring your knees up and spread your feet apart," directs Bryon and
Ajit complies.
	Bryon looks deep into Ajit's wantonly-glazed eyes, down to his
glistening, upright cock swaying above his hanging ball-sack and down to
the puckered opening. Exposed to his lust-filled eyes and lotioned
fingers. Slowly Bryon rubs the two fingers over that opening. At the first
touch it jerks in a small convulsive motion. Then Bryon lightly drags his
finger-nail across the tight little hole--again a slight seizure and a gasp
from Ajit's lips. Slowly he applies an inward pressure with his middle
finger, quickly the tight opening gives way and his finger slowly sinks
into that hot fuck-tunnel. Ajit groans and draws his knees up to his chest,
further exposing his sensitive ass-hole.  Bryon smiles at the effect of his
penetrating finger. Slowly he moves his finger in and out to Ajit's further
groans of pleasure. He removes his finger and smears some of the lotion on
his thumb which he now inserts. Ajit lifts his ass even higher in an
attempt to achieve more pleasure. Bryon rotates his thumb in that hot, dark
place.
	"Oh, god. . . that feels good, " comes Ajit's husky reply to the
thumb's action.
	Bryon falls forward onto Ajit's cock and plunges the whole thing
deep into his mouth.
	"Arghhhh. . . !" Ajit screams sensually.
	Two thrusts of both his head and his thumb and Bryon removes
both. Ajit escapes into an erotic splendor of recall, savoring the
sensations that are coursing through his body. Then he feels his legs being
drawn back to their prone position and a lavishly lotioned hand wrap itself
around his throbbing cock. His eyes snap open as he watches as Bryon urges
his legs together, straddle his thigh, places a liberal dollop of lotion on
his ass-hole and slides up Ajit's thighs until the his hole is positioned
over Ajit's cock. Slowly he watches as Bryon lowers his torso 'til contact
between the surging cock and twitching hole is made. He watches him take
several deep breaths and then with exquisite concentration, relax. He feels
an increase of pressure on his cock-head and then a slow release as the
purple knob slips inside that hot, moistened tube. Bryon gasps, holds
himself suspended thus and after a moment or two lowers himself even more.
	Ajit can see that half of his cock has been encased in that
fabulous passageway. Bryon relaxes even more then sits all the way down,
expelling a lung full of air. Then slowly he raises his ass and then lowers
it in a slow fucking motion, reveling over the sensation of Ajit's cock in
his fuck-tunnel.
	"Oh, I never thought a cock could feel so good. . . " Bryon gasps
and he bends over to plant a long languorous kiss on Ajit's moist mouth.
	"I love you Bryon. . . " Ajit whispers and enfolds him in his arms.
	Bryon, with the aid of his arms sits up, bringing Ajit, likewise to
a seated position. His legs wrapped around Ajit's waist, arms encircling
each other, the latter's cock firmly embedded in his ass, Bryon again
kisses Ajit, deeply, with probing tongue. They break, breathless in their
mutual passion. Bryon falls back, still implanted on that hard, long,
pulsating cock. Ajit flexes his legs 'til he is kneeling between Bryon's
spread legs and looks down to his cock buried in that tight, steaming
hole. Slowly, deliberately he begins to fuck Bryon's ass. Slow and easy his
cock slides in and out that ass hole.
	"Oh, yes . . . Oh, yessss . . . it feels so fuckin good . . ! I
love your cock in my ass . . ."
	"Ohhh . . . fucking your ass!" is all Ajit can say.
	The feel of his hard, swollen love-missile in that hot, incredibly
stimulating hole starts to push Ajit towards the edge. He takes the lotion,
pours some into his hand and reaches down for Bryon's hard jerking cock and
begins to jack it off.
	"Come on my love I want to watch you shoot your cum while I'm
fucking you . . . " Ajit hoarsely asserts.
	"Oh, god . . . your hand on my cock . . . your cock up my ass
. . . I'm going to cum . . ."
	"Yes my love cum. . . shoot your load . . . fuck your tight ass
. . ."
	Ajit feels Bryon's cock suddenly swell and simultaneously a
constricting of his ass muscle. He jacks harder, he plunges in
deeper. Suddenly . . . .
	"ARGHHHH . . . " Bryon shouts as he explodes and copious amounts of
milky-white gism spatters over his chest, face and pillow.
	The spasming sphincter and the sight of that pearly rain shoots
Ajit over the edge and he too comes to a screaming crescendo of release.
	"I'M COMIIIING ! ! ! ! ! "
	Gasping and spent, Ajit falls sideways, still embedded in Bryon's
ass. Gently they clasp hands, gaze deeply into each other's sexually
shrouded eyes and slip into a shallow slumber reserved for lovers.
	Nearly twenty minutes passes before Ajit rouses from his golden,
light slumber. His now flaccid cock lays, limply on his thigh. He shifts
his legs, Bryon moans slightly and extends his legs to their full length,
his cock arches slightly and bobs. Ajit looks first at Bryon's placid face
and then roves over his whole body.
	"What incredible passion this man brings out in me," he muses to
himself, "What a sexy body and WHAT a beautiful cock." He reaches over and
lightly fondles that half-sleeping muscle. His light touch causes it to
jerk and Ajit smiles as he feels it beginning to swell in his
hand. Thoughts of the last hour causes Ajit's cock to lengthen and harden
again. With his free hand he grabs the lotion and quietly pours an abundant
amount on Bryon's hardening cock, smoothing it over its whole length. Bryon
groans in his sleep and his cock jerks into full erection. Carefully, Ajit
releases the up-standing dick, and even more carefully stands on the bed,
straddles Bryon's recumbent form, re-anoints his own ass with lotion,
kneels, carefully positions the erect cock and sits, plunging Bryon's
entire cock-length up his eroticized ass-hole--he gasps with pleasure at
that sudden, desired intrusion.
	Bryon gasps, his eyes snap open and focuses on Ajit straddling his
hips and on the growing awareness that his cock is buried deep up that
burnished-teak ass. Ajit, slowly begins to fuck Bryon's cock with his ass.
	"Aaahhh . . . ," gasps Bryon, "What a wonderful way to wake up!" He
begins to thrust his hips upwards in counterpoint to Ajit's plunging
ass. He concentrates on Ajit's bobbing hard cock it's purple radiant head
partially exposed. He reaches out and encircles it's thick, hard girth with
his fingers.
	Ajit, gently reaches down, removes Bryon's hand and says, "No, my
love. Now it's my turn and I want you to finish what you started seven
years ago."
	Bryon's brows knitted, questioningly and then relaxed as a knowing
smile spread across his face. "You'll never let me forget that night will
you?" he chuckles.
	Ajit beams down at him and says, "No, that's the night we first
. . . . met, as I remember." Then he laughs. Suddenly his face changes,
"But, this is not right," he declares and quickly lifts off of Bryon's
fucking cock.
	"What isn't right?" asks Bryon a bit confused.
	Ajit drops to all-fours beside Bryon, smiles and says, "This was
the position, wasn't it?"
	Bryon chuckles, "You don't forget anything, do you?" He rises up,
kneels between Ajit's legs, positions his cock, grasps the latter's hips
and thrusts forward. Looking down he watches his cock sink all the way into
Ajit's steaming, tight fuck tunnel. Ajit's cock jerks in concert to the
abrupt penetration.
	Ajit bucks his ass as Bryon plunges in and out, feeling their balls
slap together at every inward lunge. The feeling of Bryon's hard, thick,
fucking cock fills him with torrid desire. Groan after groan issues from
his throat as that penetrating cock performs its duty. Erotic stimulation
flows from his hot, aroused hole to every fiber of his being. Bryon grasps
those muscled hips more securely and begins to increase the pace of the
thrusts. His cock rams that tight ass-hole with the rapidity of a high
speed machine. Ajit's swollen cock too, twitches spasmodically, slapping
against his belly with every thrust.
	"Oh, god," gasps Ajit, "Fuck me, fuck me!" he urges Bryon.
	Both bodies and heads are lurching with every sinking of that high
speed fucking machine. Ajit's throbbing, fuck-hardened cock is a blur as it
slaps and bobs against his belly. The rapidity of the fucking motion
stimulates Ajit to heights and in ways he never imagines. He feels that he
has loosed the bonds of gravity and is flying, soaring high above the earth
as did that fabled mortal. Suddenly, Bryon arches his back, throws his head
back, lunges forward with force and screams, "ARGHHHH ! ! ! !"
	That last deep thrust brings Ajit to the very edge. He can feel
that hot, swollen, hard cock convulsing deep in his ass.
	Feeling that buried spasming, his eyes snap open in wonder as he
utters, "Jeeze . . ." and his own, unattended cock convulses, shooting his
pearly, lustral fluid onto the bed covers. His cuming causes his ass-hole
to constrict in violent little seizures. Bryon jerks his body as his
imprisoned cock is thus assaulted and smiles, knowing the reason.
	They collapse from the joy of release and from the exertion and
fall apart. Without even saying a word they clasp each to the other,
intertwine their legs and fall into a deep, relaxing, rejuvenating slumber.
	Some time later, deep in the night, Ajit rises from his
slumber. They are still intertwined and he glories in their mutual
warmth. He moves, slightly adjusting a limb.
	"Are you awake?" whispers Bryon.
	"Uh-huh," answers Ajit.
	"Do you know how happy you've made me?" comes the whispered
question.
	"If it is as happy as you've made me . . . , then I know," Ajit
says quietly.
	They hug each other closer and lay without speaking for a short
time. Then Bryon asks, "Do you know something?"
	"What?"
	With a low chuckle Bryon declares, "I'm hungry."
	Likewise, Ajit's laughs lightly, "Me too . . . , but I can't move!"
	"Why?" queries Bryon.
	"I'm cum-stuck to the bed clothes!"
	They both laugh lightly and again hug each other closer.
	"I've never cum before that way," declares Ajit, in wonder.
	"You mean without having your cock stimulated?"
	"Yes."
	"Neither have I, but I've heard about it. I always thought it was
spurious."
	"Well, it's not. It happened. . . . it was wonderful . . . like I
was flying . . ."

	Many times in the ensuing years they flew high above the earth
. . . . A state reserved for those who love each other unabashedly
. . . unequivocally . . . completely. Daedalus, reborn!