Date: Tue, 20 Oct 2015 19:52:10 +0000 (UTC)
From: jhtravus@yahoo.com
Subject: What We Do When Rick Rolls in to Town

Thanks for reading, guys! I hope to do more of these shorter one-and-done
experimental stories. Who knows, if enough people show an interest in them
I may continue them. Don't worry, I'm still very much into my ongoing
series as well, so in the meantime I hope you enjoy these in between.

Let me know what you think! jhtravus@yahoo.com


      What We Do When Rick Rolls in to Town


      My buddy Rick and I have a tradition whenever he comes into town. The
night may start differently but it always ends the same way.

      He takes me out to a nice dinner and we start to catch up like old
friends. It could be six weeks since we've last seen each other or six
months. It's always the same. He starts off the conversation like any old
friends would. Asks me how the oil business is. Telling me about his
kids. Rick's a powerful executive now and is used to calling the shots. And
then after the first drink is done comes the "We shouldn't have done that,
Jeb." Or the "Last time was the last time, Jeb." He absentmindedly fumbles
with the platinum wedding band around his ring finger, almost as if he
feels like he owes it to his wife to at least try and act like he's not
going to put out for me by the end of the night. But he will. He always
does. A few visits ago he had put up a strong front from the start. Tried
to convince me pigs had a better chance at flying than I had at getting him
to put out again. The fucker didn't even make it to his conference the next
morning. Even had the nerve to call his partners while my dick was still
inside of him telling them the roads were too icy. Okay Rick. . . The roads
were icy but that didn't stop you from making our dinner appointment and a
quick trip to the 7/11 the next morning for more lube. Part of me wonders
if each time he goes through this whole charade if he's actually convinced
himself he's not going to get fucked by the time the evening is over. Like
he'll actually be able to keep his hands off me the second we drive out of
the parking lot. Like he's putting himself through this personal test to
see if he can get through one evening with his old buddy without begging me
to put my cock inside of him. He fails every goddamn time.

      Rick and I have been best buds since we grew up together next door
from each other when we were kids. We always had a competitive edge between
the two of us that propelled us both to where we were the biggest studs on
campus when we roomed together at state. You simply could not have one
without the other. I was a running back on the football team, damn good one
I might add, and Rick was the quarterback. Of course he'd settle for
nothing less. Rick was the superstar and I was his sidekick. Or so everyone
thought. What would the town think if they found out beloved town superstar
Rick Thompson was getting his ass fucked every single night by his supposed
sidekick? What would the team think if they found out the quarterback they
worshipped and drove themselves to their absolute brink of athleticism
trying to impress was a big, butch, bottom? We didn't stop fucking even
when the two of us moved on to the marines, with the two of us managing to
sneak off at a moments notice when one of us gives the other that look. You
know, it's funny. Everyone always complains about the blueballs when you're
deployed. Rick and I didn't seem to have that problem.

      So here we are, best buds reunited again shooting the shit over
scotch. Goddamn if the son of a bitch isn't aging backward. Even in his mid
40's the beloved town football star still looks like that handsome kid
posing for photo ops and stopping to sign autographs on kids'
lunchboxes. Only even more handsome now. More distinguished. More of a
man. His bright blue eyes cause the waitress to stumble in her own words as
she asks if he'd like another drink. He looks me straight in the eye. "No
thanks, ma'am. Trying to keep my wits about me tonight." He answers with a
cool smirk. He knows what he's doing. He knows he's just upped the ante and
knocking him down a peg or two by conquering his ass tonight is just what
the fucker needs.

      By the time our plates have been cleared he's still keeping up the
illusion he's not going to put out tonight. This time I've decided to play
along.  I know Rick's not leaving town without getting his ass
fucked. There's no way he would let that happen. But I've decided to make
him work for it this time.

      We get to our cars and he lingers at his door. I've put on my coat
but the stubborn son of a bitch is still standing there in his polo, which
is stretching to accommodate his athletic form. He knows his chest hair
turns me on and I can see some of it emerging from the neck. The fucker
left the top button open just for me. Okay, Rick. . .

       He stands there with this smug look on his face waiting for me to
make my move. I extend my paw and he meets it with his own and we shake,
his eyes still staring into mine. "Good to see you, buddy. Call me the next
time you're in town." I say. For the first time all night he flinches.

      I turn away to open my car door. "What's the rush, Jeb? What do you
say I follow you home for a night cap?"

      Okay, Rick . . .

      He follows me home and I pour him some gin while I set up a fire in
the fireplace. He starts talking about his kids. His oldest is following in
his old man's footsteps and Rick couldn't be more proud. Quarterback on the
team and already fielding football scholarships from the top scouts in the
country. Sometimes he asks me why I never settled down. I always give him
some bullshit answer. The truth is I don't want to be tied down. Not that
that's ever stopped Rick.

      As it's starting to get late Rick notices I'm nearing the end of my
glass and he gets up to top me off again. We've never lasted this long
before he gives it up. I think the fucker is actually starting to worry
he's going to win. I'm sure the hell not. He leans over to pour into my
glass and I start breathing down his neck. There it is. His eyes close. I
move closer to him like I'm about to kiss him. He instinctively presents
his lips. Instead I look deep into his eyes and do nothing. By now my glass
is starting to overflow but he doesn't notice.

      He feels me breathing on his neck and mutters more to himself than to
me, "We're not going to do this. . ."

      I ignore him and spread my legs, the big mound in my pants on full
display. He bites his lip as he wills himself not to give in to temptation.

       I grab the bottle from him and set it down on the table and lean
back again, looking at him. Back in college there were times I would come
back to our room and he'd be waiting for me, ass up and holding out a
bottle of lube to me; a far cry from the Rick who now likes to play hard to
get. Only this time I'm going to play hard to get. If Rick wants me to fuck
him he's going to have to ask for it. He's going to have to convince me to
give him my cock.

      Neither one of us is willing to make the first move. I know I had
sealed the deal. I could have grabbed his face and made out with the little
tease and he'd gladly offer me his ass but I wanted him to work for it. Our
faces are inches away from the other. Slowly he reaches up a hand and
undoes the bottom button on his polo, letting me see more of his chest
hair. Fucker. Two can play that game, however. The sound of my zipper
coming down slowly fills the room. I give him a smirk as my rock hard 10
inch cock is shown on fool display.

       I see the inner struggle going through his mind flash across his
face before his mouth is instantly on mine, ravaging me with his
tongue. Too fucking easy.

      "I knew you'd cave first." I gloat, as his tongue is thrust into my
mouth.

      "Always do, Jeb. You know how much I want you." He groans, reaching
his hands under my shirt to start playing with my pecs.

      I place my hands on his fantastic muscle ass and squeeze him
possessively, knowing it's mine to use however I want. The little slut
didn't even put on any underwear before meeting me at the restaurant. But
he pulls back.

      "We can't." He says abruptly, wiping my spit off of his lips. I can
see the mound in his pants. He wants it, alright.

      I continue to play along and decide to call his bluff. "Whatever you
say, Rick." I say, cramming my monster cock into my jeans and getting
up. "Tell me where you're staying and I'll drive you."

      He hesitates.

      "You didn't book yourself a room anywhere, did you?" I ask.

      He hangs his head and says nothing.

      "I guess someone didn't plan on needing a hotel room tonight."

      He ignores me.

      "Pretty suspect for someone claiming they had every intention of
spending the night alone, huh Rick?" I continue goading him, loving every
second of this.

      "Tell me what it is that makes you so incapable of keeping your legs
closed for me, Rick."

       I swear his cock jumps in his pants.

      "Is it because of this?" I ask, unzipping my pants again and bringing
out my huge dick, putting it on full display for my conflicted buddy.

	He says nothing, but his eyes are right on my cock.

	"Or do you just get off on giving it up for your best bud like old
times?" My big cock throbs and a single strand of precum starts to drip
from the tip. "You used to use me for my big cock every single night back
in college. You can't tell me that kind of itch just goes away."

	That does it.

	Rick couldn't get on my dick fast enough. In a matter of seconds
the town football superstar ex-marine turned executive is on his fucking
knees opening up for my huge cock. Rick knows what to do. The fucker
learned how to take me to the balls while we were still freshmen. Men like
Rick don't do anything half-assed. They become a pro. And Rick can take
cock like a pro. From both ends.

	He's got me all the way down his throat now and his tongue is
lapping at my balls wanting more. But while I'm certainly enjoying a grade
A blowjob from my best buddy it's his ass I want.

      I step back and slap my cock against his handsome face as he stares
into my eyes.

      I give him a knowing stare. He tries to get my cock back into his
mouth but I withdraw again.

      He understands.

      Slowly he gets up and faces me. He's always been a few inches taller
than me and nothing's changed. He leans down to kiss me sloppily. "Alright,
Jeb. You win." He says, biting my lip. "You can have my ass." He relents
before attacking my mouth with his tongue again.

      I pull back. "I know I can have your ass, Rick." I say, kissing
him. "That was never in question."

      He ignores me.

      "I'm just not sure if I'm going to let you have my cock." I say,
slapping my big piece of meat against his leg.

       I can see it in his eyes that he's frustrated. It was bad enough I
had been successful in seducing him yet again but the fact I was going to
make him beg for it was something he hadn't planned on. I wouldn't be
surprised if the fucker hadn't been finding an excuse to not fuck his wife
from the second he booked his flight.  Saving release until he was able to
have it pounded out of him like he really wanted.

      "Come on, Jeb. You already won." He mumbled, not looking me in the
eye.

      "Don't patronize me, Rick. You knew you were going to give it up from
the get go. You always do."

      He lets my words sink in before he whispers in my ear. "Come on,
Jeb. I want it. You want it. Tell me you're going to say no when I'm
offering you my hole." He starts to kiss my neck.

      "Show me how bad you want it, buddy." I growl.

      He looks into my eyes as he bends down and adjusts his sock. The
fucker pulls out a packet of lube.

      "Went down to the 7/11 just before dinner and put this in my sock
just in case I wasn't able to resist you." He said, grinning.

      "You knew all along you were going to put out for me, didn't you,
Rick? I ask him.

      "Have I ever been able to tell you no, Jeb?"

       "Fuck no." I say as I thrust my tongue into his mouth.

      "We shouldn't be doing this, Jeb. . ." He mutters unconvincingly as
he eagerly lubes up my cock and kneels down on the mattress, offering his
beautiful hole to his best bud.

      Oh Rick. . .  One of these days the cocky little fucker might finally
swallow his pride and give it up for me without the whole charade. But fuck
if it doesn't make it that much sweeter when he lets me in. And he does let
me in. Every fucking time. But for now it's our tradition. It's just what
we do when Rick rolls into town.