Date: Fri, 6 Sep 2002 11:14:35 -0700 (PDT) From: mv <modo_velis@yahoo.com> Subject: Washington Conference Washington Conference --------------------- (Fiction - usual disclaimers apply) --------------------- Jeff and I were friends all through college. We were in the same Calculus I class in fall of our freshman year. We started working on homework sets together and preparing for tests together. We both runners, so we also started running together, usually as something of a study break. Over the years, we took a few classes together, went to a few parties together, and mostly we ran together twice a week, every week, rain, shine, or snow, for most of four school years -- every Thursday night at seven-thirty, every Sunday morning at eight. Thursdays we would run, then shower at our own dorms, then get back together to work and split either a pizza or take out from a local Chinese restaurant -- foods I'd never eat today, but that was then. Sundays we would run, have breakfast, then go our ways. Jeff was my friend outside the group I tended to hang with, and one of only a few real friends I had in college. In the fall of our senior year, I bought a car -- a very used Volvo 240 wagon -- and I brought it to school. It was just time to have a car. Remember though, 240's were newer back in 1979. One February weekend, we decided that we would go on a ski trip. We started out before five on Saturday morning, drove four hours, and then skied all day. After skiing, we changed into street clothes at the lodge then picked up a pizza on the access road to eat on the way home. I started to drive home, but perhaps a half-hour into the quiet trip home I started to nod off, and I scared myself badly enough to stop. Then Jeff took a turn, and made it about another twenty minutes. Eventually, we pulled off the road and parked behind an old, permanently closed gas station. Originally, we had planned a day trip, but we were far too tired to drive home, and we recognized that. We decided to sleep for an hour then try again. We slid the skis and poles to one side of the back, put on our hats and jackets (the car and the heat would be off) took off our shoes, and stretched out as well as we could. I was a compulsive masturbator back in college. I mean it. I masturbated every morning and every night without fail. Of course, getting up at four-thirty to go skiing, I had skipped it that morning. I compare it to skipping my morning coffee today. By the time we stopped behind the gas station, I was ready. So ready, in fact, that I couldn't sleep. Instead, I waited until I was sure Jeff was asleep, and in the quiet presence of his even breaths, I tried to move far enough away from him that he wouldn't feel my movement. Of course, I could only get so far away, sharing the back of a 240 wagon with another six-foot-tall guy, two pair of skis, two pair of poles, two pair of ski-boots, two pair of shoes, and some other random gear. But I was an ambitious and needy virgin back then, and far more fearless, probably due to the intensity of the need. I quietly unbuckled my belt, slowly unbuttoned the fly of my jeans, and slid my hand down into my briefs to meet my penis, which was already hard with anticipation. I closed my eyes. Then I felt the warmth of Jeff's hand on my stomach. The warmth slid down my pants, between my hand and my penis. This was an amazing feeling -- having someone else place a hand on my penis. He started to squeeze and pull a little, and I started unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his pants, as my body thrilled to the wonder of touch. He pulled his hand out of my pants to take his own pants all the way off. We took off our clothes, then, realizing how cold it was, I put my ski jacket back on, and Jeff did the same. We lay in the back and masturbated each other in our hats and our open ski jackets, first gently, then fast and furious until he came, shooting gism on to my bare chest and belly. It was SO sexy I came to an almost immediate orgasm more powerful than I had ever known, sending my semen all over Jeff, Jeff's jacket, and into dark unknown corners of my car. We hugged tightly, thigh to crotch, naked body to naked body, semen squishing between us, both shaking with after shocks, both loving the hot warm pressure of penis against belly, scrotum against leg. Minutes later -- I have no idea how many minutes -- but after we had both shrunk down to size, we realized we were cold and awake, and we dressed, worked our way into the front seat, and drove home. Neither of us was comfortable with having had sex together. This was immediately obvious, and the ride home was awkward. Our friendship might have recovered, but the following Thursday we hammered another nail into the coffin. At eight, Jeff called and asked if we were running as usual. "Is it Thursday?" I asked, honestly relieved. We hadn't talked, and Jeff was a friend I didn't want to lose. "It is." "In front of the library?" "Ten minutes?" And we were on our way -- the usual route, and the usual routine. We met in the dorm lobby; we ran the six mile loop out to the pond and back, gabbing about this and that -- classes, girls, another possible day trip to go skiing; each back to our own dorms for a quick shower... Jeff came over, books in hand, wearing a pair of shorts he had borrowed from me after a run, and an old cotton t-shirt that had as many holes as remaining stitches. "Those my shorts?" I asked. "Yep. Want them back?" "Some day." I turned to face him to ask whether we were ordering pizza or Chinese food. I could see the hair under one armpit through a hole, the edge of one nipple through another. I wanted him again. I must have paused; he must have read me -- I'm sure I was an open book. Jeff placed his hand over my shorts cupping my penis which hardened to meet his warmth. I slid my hands up his warm smooth sides, pulling the remains of his shirt up with my hands. He lifted his arms and I pulled the shirt over his head. He pulled my shirt open, popping the two buttons I had bothered to button across the room and we embraced, chest to chest, bulging shorts to bulging shorts. His hands slid down my back, cupping my but cheeks. One finger found its way to in my crack and gently tickled my anus. I lost control. I pulled my shorts down and stepped out. I pulled his shorts down. He stepped out. We kissed and our tongues found each other. I pulled him into bed on top of me. He spun around, his penis dangling over my mouth, and I drew it in slowly, feeling my lips slide over his smooth head, over his soft and firm glans, onto his long and hard shaft, and my tongue found his slit as I felt my own penis sucked into Jeff's warm mouth. I sucked harder and then came quickly, sending all I had deep into Jeff's mouth, feeling my penile thrusts down into my legs and up into my chest. Jeff came almost immediately after I did, and I sucked the cum out of his penis in long deep pulls until there was nothing left and his penis had shrunk back down to it's soft and transportable state. We lay there for a while, then dressed, washed up, and ordered pizza, and studied as if nothing had happened. Of course, something had happened, and it was something we were both deeply uncomfortable with. We barely talked after that. In the Spring, we had dinner once -- almost a formality -- exchanged addresses -- I was on my way to a software job in Cupertino. Jeff was going to B-School in Chicago. We talked about our futures, the details of our plans, shook hands, exchanged addresses, and never called. Then one day twenty-something years and two kids later, I went to a conference in Seattle, and there he was, working the booth for a B-to-B / E-Commerce company. "Hi" I said. "Hi" he said. Pause. "What are you doing for dinner?" he asked. "No plans yet. Can we do dinner and catch up?" I said. "Come by at five-thirty; we'll be wrapping up and we'll make a plan. We can catch up." At five-thirty, the show was closing, and exhibitors were busy locking up valuable items and powering-down demonstration systems. We talked for a few minutes, covering the high-level. "Still in Chicago. You?" "Palo Alto, working in San Francisco." We arranged to meet at half-past-seven at a fish restaurant I knew that has a patio over looking Lake Union. I went back to the hotel to change, unwind, and take in this chance meeting. I walked to the restaurant and got there just as Jeff was getting out of a cab wearing jeans, button down, a cotton sweater, and last year's running shoes. Jeff was the very picture of modern suburban bliss. We talked about this and that. Jeff and his wife have a boy and a girl, five years and three. I have twins. Girls. Two years ago. Jeff stayed in Chicago after B-School. Now he and a partner are running a new company generator. We eventually bought a house in Palo Alto. I still write software. He was staying downtown at the Four Seasons. I was staying at the Silver Cloud. Still running? Still running. Ever race? No. On and on -- engaging -- avoiding. After the plates had been cleared, we continued to hang out and talk. Eventually, there was a pause in the conversation, and after a minute, I went to the place we hadn't gone. I looked directly at Jeff. "We should have talked." I said. "We weren't ready to do that back then." Jeff said. "I guess not." I said. He studied his wine glass. I watched a couple of boats go by. "The sex was amazing." he said, still studying his wine glass. "It was amazing." I said. "I've never been able to forget the feeling of..." I stopped. That wasn't somewhere I was ready to go. "It was fast, furious, and frantic." I said. "Done it since?" Jeff asked. "No, not that. On a different track. Family and all. You?" "No" he said, then "I'm glad I'm not gay. I love my family. I love my kids." I looked at him across the table. His eyes met mine. We stayed like this, stuck, for a minute, until he freed us. "Let's go somewhere and have sex" he said. "Silver Cloud is a walk away." I said, my heart racing with the sudden and earnest honesty. I can remember every detail, as if that evening were happening again, right now. We pay the check and walk to the hotel without saying anything together. Up the elevator in silence -- bing -- 2 -- bing --3 -- bing -- fourth floor, doors open, down the hall -- 423 -- 424 -- 425 -- keycard -- door swings in and I hold it. Jeff walks in, scrapes off his shoes with his feet and pulls his shirt over his head. His body is tan, lean, muscular as it was back then. I pull my shirt, sweater, and t-shirt off together in one motion and I wrap my arms around Jeff to feel his warm chest against my chest, his penis bulging through his pants to meet my own bulge, the touch sweet deep and urgent. I don't want this to be over in five minutes. "I want to take a cold shower." I tell Jeff. "I want this to go slowly." We kiss, and I take off my pants, aware of Jeff's eyes on my own body. I feel fit and sexy, and I enjoy showing off as I slowly slide down and step out of my pants, then my briefs, my long hard penis slapping up against my tummy as I bend over. Alone, in the bathroom, I take a slow deep breath and step without thought into the strong and shockingly cold spray. Armpits. Penis. Anus. Clean, calm, and a little numb, I'm about to turn off the shower when the door opens and Jeff walks in, Naked. "Fuck me." he says softly. "Fuck me in the shower." I turn the water to a warmer temperature and Jeff steps in. I lather up some soap with my hands. I wash Jeff's chest, then his penis as his hands slide smoothly over my nipples and down my belly to lather up my own penis which rises again in his warm hands. Jeff turns around and I slide smoothly, slowly, easily into his ass, reaching around to hold Jeff's penis in my hands. We just stand like that for a few minutes -- as long as I can stand, until I can take it no longer and I thrust into him. "Ohh" he says as my cum pulses into him, and his own cum streams out hitting the shower wall in front of us, then hands down from his penis. We stay like this for a minute, feeling a thousand things, at least I was -- guilt, fear, sexy reverberations. This time, though, what has happened is what is. We dry off and get into bed together, naked, and doze off. I remember waking at some point in the middle of the night, feeling the warmth of Jeff's hand on my belly. I reached down and found his penis with my hand. We kissed -- lips pressed against lips; the tip of his tongue tickled the tip of my tongue as Jeff slid one leg over me to straddle me then spun around, his penis dangling over my mouth. I slid my hands over his smooth warm butt cheeks and pulled him lower, drawing his penis into my mouth -- the soft warm head sliding smoothly between my lips, then over the glans as Jeff moaned as he slid his hands under my own butt cheeks, breathed deeply then took my own penis into the warm dark recesses of his own mouth. We stayed like this, not daring to move, wanting to stay in this ecstatic loop forever. His hips moved ever so slightly. I just touched his penile slit with the tip of my tongue. His finger slid into my crack and gently found my anus. I pressed with my hips first down into his finger, the thrill filling my entire body, then up into his mouth as I sucked on his penis and pulled his ass to me until I felt his pubic hair with the tip of my nose and then he came, spurt after spurt of sweet aromatic gism, and then I came in great deep spasms, shooting out cum I didn't even know I had, as if I had been saving it all these years for just this occasion. And then it was all over. Jeff turned around and lay on his back, hands behind his head, and I lay down, one hand behind Jeff, the other behind my head, so that I could feel his body next to mine. Eventually, we got up, washed and brushed, and went back to bed again. Jeff woke me up at quarter-to-five. "Go for a run?" he asked. "What time is it?" I asked. "Almost seven in Chicago." was Jeff's reply. "Can I borrow a pair of shorts?" I loaned Jeff shorts and a running tank. I wore my own. We ran around the lake -- about seven miles, and we were in my room again by seven. "Breakfast?" asked Jeff? He kicked off his shoes and pulled off the sweaty tank, then his shorts, quickly as he probably does every morning before work, between the daily run and the daily shower. I had taken off my own top, and without forethought I knelt, still in my shorts and shoes, in front of Jeff who was sweating and naked in front of me. I reached and held is balls in my right hand and squeezed slightly. His penis extended across my wrist and started to lengthen. I could feel his penis pulse on my wrist. I drew his penis into my mouth. It tasted of fresh sweat, slightly salty, and I gave Jeff a blow job, moving with him as he first leaned against the wall, then lay down on his back on the floor, then pulled his legs up and open so that my chest rested on his cheeks. He came in slow deep spurts, moaning with each one. "My god." he said as first I stood up, then he stood up. "Shower?" he added. We went into the shower together. Facing each other, I washed Jeff's chest as he worked up a lather between his hands and my painfully hardening penis. Jeff turned around and I slid my penis into his ass, slowly, centimeter by centimeter, until I felt his cheeks against my thighs. Jeff moved up and down slowly. I came quickly, easily, and a little painfully. We dried, dressed, and found a small place breakfast. Over pancakes and coffee we talked about this, and that -- kids, family, school. Then Jeff went to work, and so did I. As the show was wrapping up, we shook hands like business associates and went back home to our lives, to our families. We haven't talked since.