Date: Tue, 27 May 2003 14:40:09 EDT
From: OneSillyRat@aol.com
Subject: TNT-Files, chapter 7

The TNT Files, Chapter 7

The following story is fiction.  It describes sexually-explicit erotic
events between males.  If you are offended by this material, are too young,
or live in an area where it is not allowed, don't read it.  In the world of
this story, the characters don't always use condoms.  In the real world,
everybody should practice safe sex.

The authors retain all rights.  No reproductions or links to other sites
are allowed without the authors' consent.

This to all friends, old and new.


--Tom

Onesillyrat@aol.com
Part 7: Live your dreams


TOM:

Naturally, we've talked a lot about the events of those two days.  Relived
them, time and again, till it felt as if we spent that whole day together.
How often have you told me, that if you had known I was sitting on that
hill, fighting my inner demons, you'd have been there in an instant?

Yet, I think it was necessary and important that I took that step alone.
And, in a way, you were there, with me in the sun.  I can't say when it
started, but I had been feeling it for a while then.  A warm presence
surrounding me, providing shelter, security, making me feel confident and
courageous.  Your friendship, your love, all around me like a tangible
thing.  We were soul-mates already, and would now add only another
dimension to our love.  A physical dimension.  Our bodies.

Slowly I got up, began the walk back to the motel.  Our bodies.  Oh yeah,
finally.  I smiled to myself.  You'd always warned me that you weren't much
to look at, but when I at last received your picture, you turned out to be
more than handsome, in a slightly neurotic, kinda British way.  Indeed, you
reminded me of a thoroughbred, nervous, skittish, that for the right rider,
under a light touch, would give his all.  And you were aware of that, too.
The challenge in your gaze told it to everyone who knew what to look for.
Yes, I was sure.  If we'd walk through the fire together, we wouldn't get
burned.  We'd find warmth and light.

And sparks and blazes!  Imaginative as we were, we'd probably set each
other off with some few touches or mere words...  I don't know how often
just reading your letters has made me so hot that I could get off with
three or four strokes!  Some words, whispered in my ear, a touch along the
inner, soft side of my arm, would suffice.

Strolling back along the road in a slow, leisurely pace, I pictured myself
standing at your doorstep, slowly pulling my arm back from having rung your
bell.  I'd hear footsteps, the padding of bare feet.  The door would open,
and there you'd be, really bare-foot, in Bermuda-length jeans cut-offs and
a tank, and oh so sexy.  Looking, no, staring at me, into my eyes.  And
already panting.  Your mouth slightly open, speechless, your eyes
screaming.  You'd take a step back, and I'd follow you in.  You'd retreat
further, and I'd stalk you, till you'd be standing with your back to the
wall.  I'd plant my hands right and left from your head, my eyes leaving
yours not even for a second.  Then you'd moan and move toward me, pressing
your hot wet lips onto mine, inviting me in, grinding your steamy crotch
into mine, and we'd come that same second, bucking wildly into each other,
the door still standing half open...

That was not what happened at all, as we both know.  But it turned out
later, when we talked about that first day in retrospective, that you'd had
the very same fantasy, with only one little difference.  In yours, I had
closed the front-door first.  Well, they were your neighbors...<G>!

The daydream about you had left me rock-hard.  I indeed had to carry my
backpack in front!  And yes, I felt pretty stupid doing that.  Well, nobody
knew me here.  Except for you.  Oh, Tim!  How I longed for you then!  So
close, yet so far away...

My hard-on got still harder, and my arms began to tire.  I tried thinking
about Old-Babylonian liver omina.  About Old-Assyrian commercial
correspondence.  About Sumerian congregational laments.  The last one
helped.  Slowly, the pressure ebbed and I could put my backpack where it
belonged.

Since I felt too wired to return to the motel, I decided to explore the
town.  I took the car and directed it to a central parking lot.  I strolled
around rather aimlessly, had a hotdog, and just looked my fill at people,
shops, the bluest sky I'd ever seen.  In one of the smaller streets quite
far from the busy mall I passed a movie-theater and checked out the
posters.  What a wonder, they were running two of my favorite films,
"Hair", and Ingmar Bergmann's version of "Die Zauberflöte", the last one
having started five minutes ago.  Maybe they'd still let me in?  That one'd
sure get me in the right frame of mind for tomorrow.  I bought my ticket
without any problems, well, this was America, and chose a place in the
middle of a row in the back, where the acoustic hopefully'd be good.

The theater was, not surprisingly, empty.  Only one other person was
sitting in my row, two seats from me.  Well, the best places are in the
middle!  The commercials seemed to be already over with, and previews for
old black-and-white flicks were running.  One of them I knew, "Les Enfants
du Paradis."

Then the movie began.  At first, the panning over the audience, showing
eager faces glowing with anticipation, accompanied by the sounds of the
overture.  So perfect, it never failed to capture me.  As usual, the opera
put me through my paces, made me totally forget my surroundings.  The
light-heartedness of Papageno made me giddy, the aria of the "Queen of the
Night" stunned me, left me in breathless awe and terror of that cold
beauty, and at last, Sarastro's "In diesen heiligen Hallen" moved me to
tears.  It always did.  Only this time, it wasn't I alone who embarrassed
himself by sniffing in the theater.  On my right side there was somebody
fighting tears, too.  Without thinking, going completely by feel, I
stretched my arm out toward that kindred spirit, offering my hand, and it
was taken in a firm warm grip.  A man's hand.  We held on to each other.

With closed eyes I let the music take me in, work its magic on me.  I
soaked up the comfort and assurance the aria radiated, my heart and spirit
soared.  And through all of this there was this warm hand anchoring me,
grounding my high-flying feelings, making them that more intense.  I shared
a moment of bliss with this stranger.  At least I hoped it was the same for
him.

When the song was over, we loosened our grip.  Letting go, my fingers
accidentally brushed over his palm, as his did mine.  I inhaled sharply,
and heard him gasp, too.  Wow!  That spark sent fire through my veins!  For
the rest of the film I tried to get a grip on myself.  Hell, tomorrow I was
going to meet the love of my life, the man I wanted desperately!  My first,
my last, my everything, the answer to all of my dreams...  And here I was,
quoting Barry White and getting vibes from a total stranger!

Unnoticed by me, the movie had ended, folks were leaving, lights went on,
blindingly.  I didn't want to look to the right.  Didn't dare to.  When I
finally did look, no one was there.  Relieved and disappointed at the same
time, I sneaked out of the theater, my eyes searching the crowd, in the
lobby and outside.  Everything appeared perfectly normal, no stolen glances
were cast at me, no half-whispered remarks reached my ears.  Well, I saw a
figure disappearing rather fast on the sidewalk, the neon-lights giving his
hair a reddish, auburn glow.  It sent a pang through my heart, that hair!
It so reminded me of yours, baby!  I stood transfixed, my heart hammering
in my chest.  Then I shook myself out of that trance.  And set off like a
maniac after the figure that far away, in the distance, just had dropped
out of view.  In the run I slung my backpack over my shoulder.  It was a
gut-reaction, all that adrenaline had to go somewhere.

I ran like a man possessed.  Till even today I'm wondering what made me act
so impulsively, 'cause that isn't like me at all!  I suspect it was the
pills that finally made themselves noticeable.  I HAD taken a double dose;
after all I had been VERY afraid of flying!  I had nearly reached my
target, when he stopped and bent down to unlock a car, a rather run-down
Camry.  Five yards from the figure I stumbled to a halt, panting, not sure
how to proceed.  I cleared my throat, brushed my hair out of my face, and
haltingly inched closer towards the car.  Everything seemed to unroll in
slow-motion.  The man looked up.  Green eyes, widening in shock, a narrow,
elegant nose, a luscious mouth, slightly open.  Your eyes, your nose, your
mouth.  Your mouth!!  Clang!  Your hand that dropped the keys.  Your hand
gripping my arm when my knees started to give.  Your arms hauling me and my
backpack against your car, keeping me upright.  Your lips on mine, making
me faint all over again.

A whole life later your voice, asking me if I could stand a moment alone,
then the door of the car opened and I sank inside.  And you drove me home.


                                                                * * *


TIM:

And there we were, sitting in my car.  I felt kind of shell-shocked.  This
had been totally unexpected!  Tommy, here, at my side.  Not saying a word.
Oh, I could relate to that!  After that first explosive reaction I
experienced a kind of numbness, too.

The good thing about his sudden appearance was that it had probably spared
me lots of anguish.  Damn!  If I had known that he was going to visit, I'd
have gone ballistic with anticipation.  Like this, there hadn't been any
time for worrying.  A short look at Tommy's very pale face told me that
he'd had more than enough time for that.

And I'd have made sure that there wouldn't be Evan, Ash, and Patrick
waiting at my house, as they were now!  Oh shit, they would be there
already, waiting for me to join our monthly poker evening.  They knew where
I hid the key, after all.  Poor Tommy, he seemed to be completely out of
it.  He was certainly in no shape to deal with that wild bunch of lions
this evening.  I'd just have to get him into my bed as fast as possible.
Now that was a delicious idea!

Impulsively I placed my arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer.
And he came willingly, resting his head around my shoulder with a soft
sigh.  I can't describe my feelings at that moment.  My heart was full of
love, and there was nothing sexual about it.  It was more like I was a
father, comforting a tired, exhausted child.  It felt so good, being able
to give him what he needed.  He was positively melting into me.

When we arrived at my house, he was asleep.  Carefully I positioned him
back into his seat, and went to open the front door.  Then I maneuvered him
out of the car and into the house.  I don't think he was fully awake.  It
must have been a long day for him.

Halfway down the hallway we came across Patrick, who emerged from the
kitchen, three Coronas in his hands.  He saw us.  His eyes got wide, but he
didn't say anything.  Patrick silent - well, that told me how surprised he
was.  But then, he'd never before seen me bringing a seemingly drunken
stranger home.

"It's Tommy!" I hissed, and suddenly Patrick's face was wreathed in the
broadest grin ever, and he pumped his fist in the air and screamed
"Yippie!"

"Shh!"  I admonished.  "Don't wake him up!  Help me get him into bed!"

"Oh yes!" he drawled, leering at us.

"Hands off my lover!"  I warned him, only half joking.

"What now!  Do you, or don't you want me to help you?!"

"Oh just shut up, will you?  Come on, take his arm!"

In spite of my hard words he continued to beam at me.  Together we half
carried, half pulled my knocked-out lover up the stairs, stripped him down
to his briefs and put him into my bed.  Well, this was not happening as I
had envisioned it in all my dreams!  Not that I was going to complain...

"Listen Tim, I'll take the guys for a drink, okay?  We'll be quiet when we
return."

Oh, right, I'd completely forgotten about my buddies.  They always spent
the night on our poker evenings, since they lived too far away, and mostly
were in no condition to drive, anyway.

"Thanks, cubby," I murmured, and hugged him firmly.  He returned the hug,
and gave me the warmest smile ever.  All the same, I think I had forgotten
him and everything else even before he closed the door.  I turned back
toward my bed.  My bed, with Tommy in it.

I don't know how long I stood there, watching him sleep.  He looked even
younger than in the pic he had sent me, his face boyish, his body that of a
man.  Such an exciting combination.

I peed, showered and brushed my teeth in record speed.  Then I slipped
under the blanket, spooning up behind him.  He was warm and smelled so
good, a bit of shower gel, a bit of sweat, a bit of sunkissed skin, a smell
I would always associate with him from then on.  Pure Tommy...

I switched the light off.  I tried to stay awake, not wanting to miss even
a second of this, but at one point I fell asleep in spite of all my good
intentions.


                                                                * * *

TOM:

My mind crawled towards consciousness slowly.  On kinda sore knees...
Tentatively I opened one eye.  Rembrandt-like semi-darkness greeted me.
That was good.  I opened the other one.  Gradually it began to dawn on me
that I was lying in a strange bed, in a strange room.  What the hell!  Oh
yeah, right.  Tim's room.  I didn't feel too well, a slight but noticeable
head-ache, probably from those pills, hovered behind my eyes.  I closed
them again, deciding that waking up had been a wrong move after all.  Then
it hit me.  TIM'S ROOM!  OH SHIT!  OH WOW!  Oh my God.  And all the kindly
powers...

But where was he?  'Cause I was lying alone here, in his bed.  I searched
the room.  There, a clock-radio.  12:17.  Obviously, Tim had let me sleep.
I dragged my carcass out of bed, sniffed at my armpits.  Yeah, I stank.  I
found the master-bathroom behind the first of the two doors, and took a
short shower.  Then I used some of Tim's mouthwash.  Ah, better!  Back in
the bedroom I ransacked Tim's wardrobe for clothes.  I found a pair of
cut-off jeans and a sleeveless white tee.  Then I went in search for my
future lover and food.

On bare feet I padded down the corridor, then downstairs.  I heard voices,
and followed the sound.  Suddenly I remembered.  The guys from the Pride
had been here yesterday, for their round of what, poker?  In fact, Patrick
had helped Tim maneuvering me into bed!  They seemed to have spent the
night!

On the left side of the corridor an arched doorway opened to a large
sun-lit room.  I had found the kitchen.  Hesitantly I risked a glance.
There, in front of the stove, stood Patrick, tall, broadshouldered, tanned,
a real hunk, dressed in a dark grey terry-cloth robe.  In his arms, Tim,
dwarfed of course, by Patrick's size.  Indeed, he seemed like a child in
his shorts and tee, as he looked up into the bigger man's eyes, and
whispered "I'm so happy!"

At the table Ash and Evan were sitting, from what I could see naked,
watching the scene with serene smiles on their faces.  I guess a sound
escaped my throat, 'cause the next second everybody directed their gazes at
me.  Tim extricated himself from Patrick's arms and rushed toward me, while
I, well, I felt a bit numbed by all this.  Tim just pushed me out of the
kitchen and back around the corner - safe from prying eyes.

"Oh Tommy," he exclaimed, "I still can't believe it!"  He beamed at me!

But I wasn't exactly pleased with what I'd seen.  "Please, don't break up
your orgy on my account!" I threw at him.

He blinked, once, twice.  I could see a big blush starting from his chest,
expanding up his neck toward his face.  Ha!  He felt guilty!  But then he
started to tremble, and I got worried.  Only,THEN that nutcase got a major
case of the giggles.

"You're jealous!" he shrieked, his compact body quivering with laughter.  I
didn't think this was funny, especially when there was snickering from the
kitchen to be heard, too.  Indeed, I felt my hackles begin to rise.  But
before I could say a thing, I was pulled in a bone-smashing, rib-cracking
hug.  Patrick, who else?

"Now, don't y'all be stupid, sweetcheeks," he drawled, as he kept
smothering me.  Then he proceeded to give me a short, but sloppy kiss, with
just enough tongue.to make me breathless.  And hard.  Drat!  I couldn't
very well lecture Tim about his earlier behaviour now, could I?  Somehow,
my ire had evaporated anyway.  In that off-handed manner of his, which I
usually would have fought but didn't mind in the slightest just now,
Patrick turned me around, and, putting his hands on my shoulders, directed
me into the kitchen, blush, hard-on, and all.

"Mmm," the guy who had to be Evan, said, giving me the once-over, "looks
like lunch just arrived."

"Yeah, hot and ready to serve,"added Ash.  Both were smiling so
affectionately at me, as they stood there waiting for my reaction (not
naked, but in boxers...), I just had to pull them both in a bear-hug, like
Patrick had me.  From behind, Patrick joined in, and we had a thorough
group cuddle.  But I disentangled myself from their arms after just a short
while, and went over to Tim, who still hovered under the arched doorway,
the expression on his face decidedly unhappy.

We never had met before, but we exchanged so many letters that I knew him
pretty well.  And I knew exactly what he was thinking right then.  "Tim,
baby," I said, shoving him around the corner like he had me, earlier, "Stop
that immediately!  I'm here for you only.  I'm not going to go off with
your friends, you know?  Better get that into your thick head!"

"I just can't believe that you go for the smallest, scrawniest guy around,
now that you've seen me, and have seen them!"

"Tim, you're talking rubbish.  I gotta shut you up!"

With that I took his head in both hands, angled him correctly and began to
kiss him silly.  At first he stayed passive as I explored his mouth with my
tongue.  But then a shudder ran through his body, and he moaned, and his
tongue met mine.  We kissed for a long time, passionately, wild, our hard
cocks grinding into each other.  When we finally pulled apart an eternity
later, we were panting breathlessly, if that's possible.

"Timlove," I said, looking hard into his slightly unfocused green eyes,
"don't doubt me.  It is you that I want.  Only you.  Evan, Ash, and Patrick
know that, too.  It's their love for you that made them welcome me with
open arms.  I love them like brothers, but you, babe, are my man.  Have
been for a very long time.  Hell, this is me, Tommy!  Remember?  The guy
who wrote all those letters?"

For a moment he stared at me, expressionless, then he slowly began to smile
and kind of melted into my arms.  What a wonderful feeling!  I could have
held him like that forever.  It felt so right!  However, in that very
moment my stomach made itself known with a loud rumble.

Tim looked up at me, grinning.  "Well, my man," he said, "if that's how it
is, let me feed you!  'Cause you'll need all your strength later!"

Mm, that sounded yummy!  So we all had breakfast together.  The atmosphere
was easy, companionable.  It was as if I'd known these men for ages.  Well,
in a way I had.  Afterward we reddied up, then Ash, Patrick and Evan packed
their things and drove home.

Tim and I stood in the doorway, waving them good-bye till they were out of
sight.  And then we were alone.  We went back in and Tim closed the door.
We looked at each other.

"Uhm, Tom...," he said.

"Uh, Tim...," I said, at the same time.

I managed not to giggle nervously, which was not easy.  He pulled himself
together visibly and took my hand.  "Come on," he declared, with a
challenging gleam in his eyes, "let's get to know each other!"

He led me upstairs, to the bathroom, where we each had a fast shower and
brushed our teeth, I with a brush that had 'Tom' written on it.  Timmy said
it had been waiting for me.  Was that sweet, or what?

Naked and still a bit damp, I stood before Tim's bed, waiting.

"The time to hesitate is through," he hummed, standing beside me.

"No time to wallow in the mire," I went along with him, and together we
finished it.  "Try now, we can only lose, and our love become a funeral
pyre...  Come on baby, light my fire, come on baby, light my fire, try to
set the night on fire, try to set the night on fire!"

"Timmy, the Doors?  You're surprising me here!"

He smiled, then his gaze changed, became intent, determined.

"Tom, I need you.  Naked.  In my bed.  Now."

A look in his face told me how serious he was.  There was a solemn fire in
his eyes that burned through me, settling in my stomach.  Wordlessly I
complied.

"Lie on your back," he requested.  My breathing accelerated as I spread
myself out on his bed, arms close to my body, legs slightly apart.  My nips
were already hard, my cock kind of pulsing.  Tim knelt on the bed beside
me, surveying me from top to toe as if this was Christmas and I the
present.  The only thing lacking was a red bow around my dick and bells
ringing in the background.  Though I thought I heard them bells all
right...

The muscles in his thighs were in prominent relief, as he knelt like that.
He'd mentioned his strong legs before, but I hadn't envisioned them that
impressive.  Was that Charles Bukowski whose women had always harped on
about his trunklike legs?  Well, I could relate to their feelings...
Anyway, next to his powerful legs, his upper body seemed rather boyish and
trim.  Tim's build reminded me of a Satyr's, especially in combination with
that lecherous (but loving!) gleam in his eyes.

Like me, he was already totally hard.  I thought I could smell the drop of
precum at the tip of his dick.  I'd just made up my mind to speed things up
and reach for it, when he slowly extended a hand toward me, toward my face,
and brushed lightly over my cheek, down my neck.  It was enough to make me
gasp.  Then both hands slid down my body, from my shoulders, along my ribs,
over my abs, which quivered at that, to my hips, hovering there.

I bucked, waving my wet, hard cock at him.

"Touch me!" I whispered.  And he took hold of me with a firm, confident
grasp.  Finally, after all this time, I felt Tim's hand at my tool!  Still
kneeling beside me, he jacked me slowly, with steady strokes, never
speeding up, keeping his green, intense gaze on my face.

My whole body was on fire now.  Suddenly the need to come was so
overwhelming, I had to start fucking my burning spear up into his hand!

"Yeah, come on, take your pleasure!" Tim urged me on.  But I wanted him to
come, too! And his leaky, rock-hard weapon was only inches away from my
mouth!  I latched onto it, took it way deep in one go, and put my hand
around what didn't fit.  Then I sucked, licked, and jacked, all the time
bucking up into his hand.  I tasted sweetness, and tartness.  I tasted
lust!  We got there together.  He, shouting hoarsely, me moaning and
slurping, we erupted in blasts of steaming manjuice.  I couldn't swallow
all of his.  My face was pretty much painted when he was done!  And on my
belly a pool of my own cum was cooling.

Grinning broadly, he lay down on me, carefully, moving his body up and down
on mine, smearing my juice all over us.  Then he licked my face clean.

It was wonderful to have him lying upon me.  He was heavier than he looked.
I loved it.  I loved him!

"Tim?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Green eyes, suddenly wet, shone down on me.

"I love you too, Tommy."


				 *   *   *


Per siempre, caro.  -TW   Thanks, love.  --TM