Date: Fri, 30 Jan 2004 17:28:57 -0800 (PST)
From: Evan Bradely <evanbradley33@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chapter 13 of "The Crew"

The following fictional story deals with sex among males.  If you are
offended by such material, are too young, or reside in a location where it is
not allowed, please depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough
about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights.
EvanBradley33@Yahoo.com

Chapter 13
An Undertow
				  Jamal

While the other members of the crew were attending a Renegades ballgame, Jamal
was driving to a party at a new condo complex for young professionals on the
edge of the city.  The host was one of his high school buddies who'd just
earned a Bachelors in Accounting.  He told Jamal he needed some studs to keep
all the hot women he'd invited happy.  That's all it took to persuade Jamal that
this party required his presence.  His buddy's comment reminded him of his role
as a jock stud in high school - not entirely welcome memories.	Back then he was
constantly attended by women.  They were nearly crawling into his jeans.  He
thought he was the Cock of the Walk - until he observed what had happened to
one of his high school jock brothers, Donneal Watkins.

Donneal and Jamal had been best buddies since junior high.  One was always
trying to outdo the other at just about anything.  But their competitive spirit
seemed to feed rather than impede their friendship.  In high school, they were a
powerful duo on the court.  One of their favorite pastimes was dreaming about
earning basketball scholarships and attending college together.  Though he never
disclosed it, one of Jamal's secret dreams was "doing Donneal."  Donneal noticed
Jamal's frequent arousal when they were together, but he attributed it to
Jamal's chronic horniness.

Donneal had been aggressively pursued by a female classmate, Sherinn, who
made him feel GOOD.  True to the competitive dynamics of their friendship,
Donneal got a kick out of boasting to Jamal in detail about sex acts with
Sherinn, for she would do anything he asked for as long as he asked.  She drove
him wild.  He'd never had a woman so focused on fulfilling his every desire,
making him feel like a king.  Jamal was envious - for a short while.  Not too
many months after Donneal and Sherinn seemed to have become a serious couple,
she paid a Sunday afternoon visit to him and his parents, announcing that she
was pregnant and Donneal was the father.  His parents and Sherinn insisted that
they marry.  Jamal could see the anguish of his friend, for whom college and a
basketball scholarship were no longer a dream.	When Donneal heard the
yet-to-be-born baby was a boy, he was hooked.  Sherinn cared nothing about his
going to college.  She expected him to do his duty - get a job and support her
and their child.  She insisted on staying home and caring for their baby.
Jamal and Donneal drifted apart after the wedding. It didn't help that Sherinn
kept him on a short leash.  Jamal had seen him a couple of years later.  He
seemed like a robot, his face devoid of its former spirit and humor.  The spark
in their friendship was gone.  Jamal had mourned for weeks after that.

That chain of events had sobered Jamal.  He vowed that he'd not become a victim
of a barracuda looking to make a baby to trap a working husband.  Because he'd
always been open to a little sex-buddy play, he had started getting his rocks
off with guys to avoid any fatal entanglements like Donneal's.	By the time he
was a senior in high school, he was back to dating women - college women.  He
was so handsome and hot that they liked sex with him but weren't interested in
getting married.  Trapping a man into marriage was not on their agenda - at
least not a man like him.  Dinnea had taught him that - painfully.

An accounting major, Dinnea Royston had set her sights on Jamal at a college
party.	She liked his square-jawed, butch look.  Brooding, dark eyes.  Broad
shoulders and miles of rounded, mounded muscles.  Bowing biceps, thighs,
and calves.  A bubblebutt.  The other women at parties were quite attracted to
Jamal, itself another attractant to Dinnea.  She liked having a man other women
wanted.  Jamal made her laugh, and he treated her as though she were a national
treasure.  It never occurred to him until much later that it was the same song
with Dinnea as had played when Donneal had hooked up with Sherinn - merely in a
different key.	He thought the college party circuit protected him from women
playing sexual politics.

Dinnea and Jamal had dated with increasing intensity for three months, moving
into a serious relationship.  But in the fourth month, at another college party,
she had met Barry Russell, a law student.  Barry's parents were professionals,
and the family had MONEY.  Barry was handsome all right.  Six feet, two inches
of lanky, sculpted, muscled, milk chocolate, hot, male flesh.  Sauve, cultured,
poised, intelligent - if they weren't competitors for Dinnea's attention,
Jamal would have been interested in "doing Barry."

Over several parties, Jamal watched the flirting between these two grow.
Finally, Dinnea had - in the presence of everyone at a party - announced loudly
that she was leaving with Barry, that they would be dating each other
exclusively.  Dinnea shot Jamal a look replete with victory.  He knew she was
gouging him because she raised her eyebrows ever so slightly as though to say
"see what I deserve."  Barry kissed her hotly, to which all gathered made
noises:  "Wo-o-o Wo-o-o!"  "Way to go brotha!"	"Hot time tonight!" and the
like.  Dinnea had kept shooting Jamal glances full of smirk.  Jamal wanted to
sink into the floor.  For the first time ever his lack of a college background
made him feel like a third-world citizen.  Even his overt masculinity didn't
protect him from feeling inferior.  He suddenly realized that Dinnea had used
him while she trolled for someone she considered better, some college guy with
a bright future, social standing, and all the accoutrements of that lifestyle.
Jamal had slunk out the back door of the condo and sneaked to his car.	Just as
he reached it, he saw the couple in Barry's BMW zipping away to coital bliss.
He vowed never to be humiliated like that again.  Barry and Dinnea married in a
splashy society wedding three months later.  Jamal hadn't even received an
invitation - not that he would have gone anyway.  That total shut-out seemed to
be Dinnea's final word on what he had meant to her.

Jamal left that circle of friends, rejecting invitations to parties and dinners
until finally the invitations stopped coming.  He couldn't stand the thought of
running into Barry and Dinnea, and his humiliation over that night continued to
burn within him.  He was determined that THAT door in his past was closed.  He
returned to getting it on with guys.  He didn't get a sports scholarship as
he'd hoped.  Then he heard about Winston Construction Company.	He never looked
back.
			      Jamal and Hal

Hal had read angst in Jamal's demeanor when he appeared at the construction
trailer seeking a job.	He was attracted to Jamal from the start - those
intense eyes squinting as though in pain; his defensiveness like a palpable
force field cast about him; a cold, almost insolent demeanor; mounded pecs and
flat belly; rounded ass; developed thighs; and uniform chocolate skin.	Hal knew
Jamal would be packing an admirable cock.

Their peculiar relationship had started forming at Murphy's Gym.  They couldn't
get through a workout session without one's challenging the other to a lifting
competition or the like.  Jamal had felt as though he had his buddy Donneal
back, so he threw himself into those competitions with Hal, expecting him to
become his buddy.  Unlike Donneal, the crew picked up on the sexual ambience
infusing the competitions of the two.  Once Jamal had joined the crew at
Murphy's Gym, there was no way he wouldn't find out some of the details about
Hal's sexual relationships with other members of the crew.

Truth to tell, he wanted to "do Hal."  He even wanted Hal to do him!  But Hal
never put the moves on Jamal - not even when Jamal invited it.	Jamal had
become a sex buddy to Max and to Rich.	He was also a third player with Ted and
Levi.  He and Tonio discovered a special depth during their couplings.	Jamal
welcomed it but didn't push it even though his feelings for Tonio were growing
deeper.  He knew Tonio had hang-ups about getting too close to a sex buddy.
Over a series of "dates," Tonio had disclosed what had transpired between Hal
and him.  The details only whetted Jamal's appetite to get it on with Hal.  But
Hal never made any moves on Jamal, a fact that smoldered deep within Jamal,
slowly growing in intensity.

Finally, driven by sexual frustration and too much ambiguity about his standing
with Hal, Jamal drank himself silly one evening.  He decided to go tell Hal what
he thought about his treatment of him.	Jamal arrived at Hal's home, knocking
angrily on the door, weaving a little as light from the living room spilled out
onto the porch.  When Hal opened the door, with no ado, Jamal demanded to know
if the fact that his dick was black put Hal off.  Hal grabbed one of Jamal's
developed biceps and pulled him into the living room, slamming the front door.
Jamal was swaying a little, informing Hal, if he hadn't already guessed, that
Jamal was stewed.

"Yeah, I know your kind, Hal.  It doesn't make any difference whether crackers
like you want cock or cunt.  You don't want it with any color - at least not
black.	Admit it - you don't like my color."

"You bastard!  I LIKE your color.  It's not that!" Hal answered defensively.

"Don't feed me a line like that.  I've heard about Max.  About Rich, about Ted,
and about Levi.  And especially Tonio.	You could give THEM some action when
Max threw them in your lap.  But I'm not good enough!  I'm black-assed trash."

"Wrong!  Have you noticed what happened after I hooked up with every one of
those guys you named?"

"I wasn't working for you then."

"Except for Murphy's Gym, do you see Max and me together off site?" Hal
snapped.

"I don't follow you around!" Jamal snapped back.

"You see me with Rich?	Are you blind?	You can't see that Ted and Levi are a
couple?"

"I know that!  We've even gotten it on together a couple of times," Jamal spat
out.  They don't have any problems with the color of my dick!"

Hal expelled a burst of air in frustration at Jamal's implicit accusation.
"They dropped me, dumbass!" Hal shouted.  "They all dumped me!" Hal nearly
sobbed out, flying at Jamal, hating him for calling up his ugly past, feeling
like a loser, implying that Hal was a racist.  They grappled, fell to the floor,
wrestling with each other, rolling around the living room.  Before they knew it,
each was feeling the other's hard cock shoved against some part of his body.
Their movements were still powered, powerful, but a new potency imbued them.

'What the hell is going on?' Jamal thought to himself.

'I want him," Hal thought.  'Now.'

Simultaneously, they attacked each other's clothes, ripping off shirts, opening
belts and jeans, ripping down undergear.  A little croak escaped Jamal's throat
when he saw Hal's hard dick.  He dived into Hal's hairy crotch, snuffling
around, pulling in his man smell, licking lustfully.

Hal rotated around until he was in Jamal's crotch.  There he found a fat,
six-inch dick, bowing out in the middle just like Jamal's thighs and calves.
The cap was astonishing, the tip a lighter brown than the rest of Jamal's skin,
but the flared frenum was pink.  Hal hadn't seen coloring that was such a
turn-on.  Curly black hair framed the cock and a nice sack of balls.  He filled
his nostrils with the smell of a hot, young, aroused male, licking first on the
backside of Jamal's scrotum and then around the sides.	He began running his
palm over Jamal's hard ass, occasionally running his middle finger into the
cleft.

While Jamal had already deep-throated Hal's dick, he loved Hal's move to his
ass.  He pulled off Hal's dick, stuck his thumb in his mouth, coating it with
saliva and then moved his thumb to Hal's pucker, initiating a thumb massage.

It was turning into another competition.  Hal wet two of his fingers,
unceremoniously piercing Jamal's sphincter.  Jamal let out a little shout of
surprise and pain.  He replicated Hal's hasty attack on his hole with two of his
fingers, earning a loud grunt from Hal.  While Hal was plunging his mouth up and
down Jamal's dick and finger-fucking him, he started teasing Jamal's balls with
the fingertips of his other hand, a move that produced some wiggles in Jamal's
ass because his balls had already drawn up tightly in his sack.  He was moving
toward shooting.  Why wouldn't he be with Hal's stubble rubbing against his
sensitive inner thighs?  Man!  What a turn on!	He knew it would be this good
with Hal.  Just as he fantasized it would be with Donneal.

Jamal swished his tongue all over and around Hal's mushroom cap, wrapping a
hand around Hal's sack and pulling on it in time to his mouth moving up and
down Hal's cock, and he aimed his long fingers at Hal's prostate, repeatedly
hitting it as his fingers plunged in and out, enjoying the little spurts of
precum he could taste.	They speeded up, and their lingual lovemaking grew
louder with slurps, moans, grunts.  They couldn't hold it any longer.  Hal was
the first to shoot.  His orgasm was so strong that Hal felt as though he would
pass out.  Immediately a blast of Jamal's warm jism shot to the back of Hal's
mouth. Neither one stopped finger-fucking the other until their orgasms had
spun themselves out.  Then they had rolled apart, reorienting to the situation
slowly as they lay flat on the living room carpet.

Finally, Hal leaned up, resting on his elbow, looking at Jamal's sexy body.
"You open for more of this?" Hal asked, looking from under his eyebrows at
Jamal.

Jamal was silent for a few seconds.  "Open for what?"

"Being with me . . . having a relationship with me . . . loving me, letting me
love you?" Hal asked, the volume of his voice dropping with each phrase.

Suddenly, Jamal detected a wordless voice deep within him.  He didn't hear
words, just message.  The message was that Hal and he could never be lovers.
If they tried that, it would destroy any other kind of relationship they could
ever have, including employer-employee.  It was that competitive dynamic between
them.  Something innate within them.  He could have handled it with Donneal but
not Hal.  Jamal knew he liked Hal.  They weren't made to hate or even dislike
each other, but they were not made to be lovers.  Sex buddies somewhere down the
road, possibly, but maybe not even that.  Jamal had cast about in his mind for
a reply, each second adding to the burden he was feeling.  "We can't be involved
romantically.  It will turn into the biggest knock-down, drag-out you can
imagine.  Think about it.  You'll realize I'm right."

Hal gulped and then slumped.  Jamal felt guilty, but he knew he'd spoken an
absolute truth.  Hal arose slowly, walking to his boxers, his slobber-wet,
partially erect dick swaying.  Hal snatched them up, pulling them on.  Jamal
watched quietly as Hal restored pieces of his clothing to his body.  Jamal
opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again.  He reached out to touch Hal
when he moved closer, his back to Jamal, but then Jamal pulled his hand back.
He finally arose and donned his clothes quickly, walking to the front door.
"Guess I'm fired."

"Don't be an ass.  You've still got your job.  I need good workers," Hal said
softly.

"Thanks, Man."	Jamal stuck his hand out for a shake.  Looking at Jamal's hand,
Hal challenged, "I guess you don't like my color," turning and walking into the
kitchen, leaving Jamal speechless, his hand hanging in the air.  He'd been
kicked in the ass by his own words.  "See you at the site tomorrow," Hal said,
his back to Jamal, who let his hand fall to his side, a frown on his face,
feeling as though his reason for hitting Hal's home had blown up in his face,
feeling as though he could never fend off the implicit accusation that his
response to Hal's invitation was racially motivated.  He walked out the front
door, closing it behind him, disturbed by the impression that he'd just been
involved in a wreck.

Hal opened the refrigerator, snagging a longneck, allowing the door to slam,
wafting a cold breeze against him.  He twisted the cap off the bottle, threw it
accurately across the kitchen into the wastebasket.  He placed his arm across
the top of the refrigerator, took a long drink, and then rested his forehead on
his arm, staring at the smooth white surface of the refrigerator door, staring
at his life, staring at nothing.  He wished desperately that he could erase the
strenuous sex bout with Jamal from his memory banks, for it had fired feelings
deep within him.

'Damn!' Jamal thought as he drove away from Hal's home.  'I never knew hot sex
could go so wrong.  If everything is right, sex is supposed to make something
better - as long as you're with real people.  Not people like Dinnea.  Hell!
She castrates guys - unless they have money, the only antidote for her poison.
Hal isn't Dinnea.  So what went wrong?'

Jamal and Hal had never had sex again.	It wasn't for want of desire on Jamal's
part.  Some months on down the road, when their relationship had smoothed out
enough to look like all the others among the crew, it had still taken Jamal a
full week of wrestling with himself before he could ask Hal for help with a down
payment on a new car when his old beast was dying.  He expected Hal to throw
Jamal's need for his money in his face.  Hal didn't.  Just wrote him a check.
When he handed it to Jamal, he looked into his eyes, smiling:  "I get one of the
first rides."  Jamal smiled, relieved that Hal wasn't going to bash him.  He'd
given him that ride in the new car.  In fact, he'd taken them to a tavern and
bought Hal a beer.  It was a time when they visited freely about trivial stuff
just like buddies.  That dynamic between them continued, especially when they
competed against each other at the gym.

(To be continued.)