Date: Wed, 20 May 1998 18:15:29 -1000
From: John Clark <janc55@hgea.org>
Subject: Jock-sucker Chapter 7

Chapter 7

	"So.  I don't know what to tell you, man.  He looked really bent
out of shape when he found out that this guy 'Yon' was really Ion Tadescu,
the world famous blah, blah, blah..."
	Ion pulled on his shapeless, comfortable sweatshirt.  "Thanks for
the warning, Denny.  I saw all of you talking over there, and then I saw
him going out in a hurry.  I was hurt that he didn't stop to say hello to
me.  Now I know that he didn't even know who I was."  He crammed his feet
into his running shoes, yanking the laces.  He didn't turn his burning face
up to look at Wu.
	"Hey.  No.  Come on, Ion.  He knows who you really are.  It doesn't
matter what your name is.  He seemed to me like a really nice guy who's
smart enough to tell the difference."
	"Well, I guess I'll find out.  He did say we are running today?"
	"Yup.  Sure did."
	"His friend is certainly handsome.  Did you get Dak to introduce
him to you?"
	"Uh, well, actually his name is Russell Widdoes.  Widdie for short.
And he introduced Dak to me."  Now it was Wu's turn to blush.  "I sort of
met him earlier."
	"Wu!  He is your special friend?"  Ion sprang up from the bench and
pounded his friend on the back.  "That is wonderful.  Maybe you are Asiatic
not-so-shit-for-brains."  Ion grinned up at the taller man.  "Look how nice
is a red face on a yellow man."
	"Bugger you, Bulgarian."
	Laughing, the friends strolled out of the building into the autumn
afternoon.
   

	Dak concentrated on his stretches.  Limbering up was especially
important for a star athlete.  No point in damaging the instrument that
paid the bills, especially not on an optional activity like jogging.  He
didn't hear the other man approach.
	"Hi."  Ion dropped to the ground beside him and began his own
stretcheing exercises.  Dak looked over at the other.
	"Hi, yourself...  uh, Ee-on.  Look, I gotta confession to make..."
	"I know what your confession is.  Dennis Wu told me.  And you were
pronouncing my name correctly before.  It does sound like yon in 'yonder'.
Which I looked up in the dictionary.  Thank you for a new word.  At my
present rate of progress I should be able to speak the English language by
the year twenty-fourteen."  Ion kept his tone light, even.
	 "I'm really embarrassed, man."
	"Why?"  Ion peered at Dak, bewildered.  "Why should you be
embarrassed?"
	"Oh, you know.  The stuff we been doing.  After we run."
	"Oh?  Is it against your religion to be blown by a gymnast?  Or
perhaps by a Romanian?  Or is it that 'I-o-n' is forbidden while 'Y-o-n' is
acceptable as a sexual partner?"  He paused.  "I'm sorry.  I shouldn't
joke.  I see that you are chagrined.  But I truly don't understand why.  I
did not purposely take on a false identity.  And I am deeply sorry that you
have been offended."
	"No!  You're doin' it again, man.  Apologizing when you haven't
done anything wrong.  It's me that's trying to apologize."
	"For what?"
	"I haven't, I don't know, respected you, I guess"
	"If you had known at once that I was the 'world famous blah, blah,
blah'," Ion laughed, "that's what Wu called me - if you had recognized me
when I came into that restroom last year, would you have refused to let me
do what I did?  If so, then I am very glad that you did not recognize me!"
	"To be honest with you, yeah.  I probably would have been too shy,
or fucked up, or whatever to relax and enjoy it like I did.  But that
doesn't mean that I didn't enjoy it, and every time since.  And I'm really
glad that we got together.  It's just that I think I'd have done it
different if I'd known who you were.  I mean who you are."
	"Okay.  We can do it different.  However you want.  Now can we run?
I, at least, am an athlete in training!"  He bound up with a laugh and ran
off.  Dak shook his head and followed.
	Ion glanced behind him as Dak neared.  Grinning, the gymnast cut to
his left, ran in a circle completely around the startled linebacker, and
pulled ahead of him once again.  Dak put on a burst of speed and caught Ion
from behind, throwing both arms around the smaller man and lifting him into
the air.
	"Very funny," he whispered into Ion's ear.  He slowly lowered Ion
until his feet touched the ground.  They stood like that for a moment,
Dak's arms locked tightly around Ion.  Dak's face dropped down into Ion's
hair.  He breathed deeply of the other man's scent.  "Ion," he began, his
voice suddenly husky.
	Ion was conscious of the warm mound beginning to pulse in the small
of his back.  He felt the familiar blood-rush starting in his ears and
quickly spreading through his body.  He lifted onto his toes and moved his
butt slowly back and forth against Dak's tented running shorts.
	"Dak, I don't want to run any more.  I think it is time to go to
your home."
	"Yeah, Babylamb.  Yeah."
        

	Widdie was the kind of guy who whistled while he worked.  He
whistled now as he whipped through his apartment neatening, throwing,
straightening and in general making the place presentable.  It wasn't any
particular tune, but it was a jaunty sound, kind of the musical equivalent
of "I'm gonna get laid!  I'm gonna get lai!."  This new deal was working
out real fine.  Seemed like both he and the gymnast were pretty satisfied
with the arrangement.  Lotsa action, no strings.  Guy's as mellow as I am,
he thought to himself.  Only, why wasn't he here yet?
	The telephone pierced through his windy song with its jarring ring.
	"Hello.  Russell Widdoes residence.  This is Jeeves, the butler.
How may I serve you."
	"Medium rare'd be just fine."
	"Hey, guy.  How ya doin'?"  Widdie kept his voice cool,
unconcerned.  "You comin' over this evening?"
	"I was on my way out the door when I caught a look at the paper.
Did you know there's a monster pep rally tonight?  Bonfire and everything.
Wanna go?"
	"Not really my cuppa tea, but I guess if you want to..."
	"Yeah, I kinda would like to take it in.  Meet me in front of the
fieldhouse?"
	"I'm on my way."
	"Hey, do you have a long coat?"
	"Of course.  All us black dudes have long coats.  Gotta have it to
drape over our long, loose, lanky limbs.  And to modestly cover our outsize
manhood.  Ya see what I'm sayin', whitey?"
	"I'm really kinda more yellowy, if you know what I mean."
	"Oh, shit!  Ain't this Fred?"
     	"Fucker!"
            "Count on it, baby.  Whatcha need a long coat for?  Last I knew
it was a pretty warm evening."
	"Bring it, okay?  I think it might get real cold."
	"Sure, whatever.  See ya in a few."
       
	
	Dak unlocked his front door and stepped aside to let Ion enter.  As
the boy stepped past, Dak's hands caught at his sweat shirt.  Ion stopped.
Dak kicked the door closed and pulled upward on the shirt.
	"This is the first change we gotta make," he said.  Ion raised his
arms over his head as Dak pulled the shirt up and off.  "Yeah," Dak
breathed.  "Oh, yeah."  He tossed the shirt aside and let his hands fall to
rest lightly on Ion's sides.  He bent slowly forward and brushed his lips
gently on Ion's chest, lingered there breathing in the other man's scent,
feeling his warmth.  Then he straightened, looked into Ion's eyes.  "You're
beautiful.  All this time you been keeping your clothes on, and I never
gave it any thought.  It was so easy and comfortable, me takin' off my
stuff, and you making a fuss over me.  I didn't have to do anything except
relax and enjoy."
	"Was that so bad?"
	"It wasn't bad, it was great.  But then I saw you today when you
were practicing.  And I finally saw the guy who's been hangin' with me for
three solid weeks."
	"I wondered why you didn't stop to say hello."
	"I'm sorry, man.  A whole lot of stuff hit me all at once.  I had
to get outta there and do some heavy thinking."
	Ion pulled Dak's shirt out from its mooring in the elastic
waistband of his pants.
	"What did you think about?  What did you conclude?  Why are you
still wearing your clothes?  This is the longest I have seen you clothed, I
think, when we have been alone."
	"Yeah, that's one of the things I was thinking about," Dak said,
pulling off his own shirt.  He bent to untie his shoes.  "I realized that I
really like being naked with you.  And watching you going through your
paces today, I was jealous of all those other guys seeing you almost nude,
with just those little silk shorts on.  Ion, man, I had to look at the fact
that I'm a queer.  At least, I'm sure as hell queer for you."  Silently Dak
scuffed off his shoes, then pulled his sweats and jock off.  Ion did the
same.  The stood, awkwardly gazing at one another.
	"A moment ago you caressed me.  I am going to take that as
permission that I may do the same to you."  Ion stepped up to the big man
and placed his hands, as Dak had, on the slanting slabs of muscle that were
his sides.  His face went to the groove between Dak's pectorals, and he
touched his lips and nose to the warm brown skin.  Ion sighed.  His arms
slid around the larger man.
	"Oh, God.  Ion."  Dak's arms tightened around the small gymnast and
he buried his face in the boy's hair.  After a moment, Dak tilted Ion's
face upward.  Again they looked deeply into one another's eyes.  Then Dak
lowered his face until his lips met Ion's.  For a moment that seemed to
last forever, the two merged as their lips pulled and probed gently.  Then
Ion felt Dak's lips part and his tongue come forth.  Without hesitation he
opened his own mouth to receive the hot, probing visitor.  Urgently, now,
the men's hands began to feel, to investigate the muscular prominences, the
hollows, the patches and tufts of hair, finally lowering to feel and stroke
each other's manhood.
	Dak's cock was a familiar friend to Ion, but for Dak this was a
voyage of discovery.  He broke from the kiss to look down at the light
colored cock and balls that he cradled in his huge brown hand.  The dick,
he saw, though already firm, was not yet free of the foreskin that
sheltered the head.  It would make a good seven inches, he judged.  And the
balls were large in proportion to the cock.  They filled his hand.  The
skin of the sac, and even the smattering of hairs that embellished it were
incredibly soft, silken.  Slowly he sank to his knees for a closer look at
this incredible wealth.  He approached the genitals hesitantly and smelled
the aroma of aroused male.  His tongue came out to gingerly touch the head
of the prick.  It jumped as he touched it with his tongue and his head
jerked back.  Then he pushed forward again, bolder.  He opened his mouth
and took the cockhead in between his lips, beginning to caress the head
with his tongue.
	"No," Ion gasped.  "I will explode.  It's too soon."  He pulled
back, away from the kneeling man.  "Please," he said, holding his hands out
to Dak.  "Come, let us cool for a minute."
	"Okay," Dak said, standing.  "Come on."  He put a heavily muscled
arm over Ion's shoulders and led him through an archway into the hall
leading to the back of the apartment.  They went down the hall, past the
bathroom, and turned into the bedroom.
	"This is nice."  Ion saw that the room was a pleasant reflection of
the man who slept in it.  A double bed beneath the only window was covered
with a quilt, and boasted six pillows, covered in well-worn slips from at
least three different sets.  Beside the bed a low chest served as a
nightstand, and held a lamp and a textbook.  A bureau flanked the other
side of the bed.  Dak pulled the quilt back and sat on the edge of the bed.
He held his hand out to Ion.  Ion sat beside the other man.
	Dak stared at the floor, embarrassed.  "I feel like a shit that
this is the first time I've ever brought you back here.  It was like if we
stayed in the living room, then it was just casual sex.  It didn't matter,
or something."  He raised his eyes to meet Ion's.  "I'm sorry," he said
softly.
	"All that matters is that we are here, now."  Ion reached up,
pulled Dak down to him, and kissed him.  They fell back, and arranged
themselves comfortably, side by side, scarcely touching.  Not yet.
Gradually they began to explore.  Dak's hands moved at a snails pace over
Ion's chiseled torso while Ion kissed and fondled the other athlete's
enormous biceps.  Again Ion pulled away.  "I am so excited by you, by every
inch of your body.  By your beautiful face.  It is difficult for me to keep
from ejaculating, now that I, too, am naked.  Before, there was the
tightness of my trousers to keep myself within control.  Now I'm afraid
that I will cum just from looking at you."
	"Ion. Babylamb.  Nobody's ever felt that way about me before. I
think if you're really that wound up, the best thing I can do is this."
Dak leaned forward and took one of Ion's nipples between his lips, tongued
it, tweaked it very lightly with his teeth.  As Ion moaned softly, Dak made
a trail of spit with his tongue that traveled into Ion's indented navel and
on down through the narrow trail of coal black hair on his abdomen.  Then
he abruptly took the engorged cock in his mouth and began a rhythmic
sucking motion.  Ion's back arched in a sudden spasm.  He gave a wordless
cry when he felt the incredible, burning intensity as he began to shoot his
load into Dak's mouth.  For an endless time Ion rode the waves of sensation
as jet after jet of semen shot from his loins.  Dak swallowed, gulped,
swallowed until the youth fell back, spent.
	Ion gazed down the length of his body.  Dak's head rested on his
thigh, his eyes closed.  The big man's jaws worked slowly up and down, the
knob of his tongue roaming around inside his cheeks and around his teeth as
he studied the taste of the load he had taken from Ion.  Ion sat up.  As
Dak rose to sit also, Ion took the other man's head in his hands and drew
him close.  They kissed.  This time it was Ion's tongue that probed into
Dak's mouth, ran over his teeth, pushed playfully at his tongue.  They
separated.
	"That was wonderful," Ion said.
	"Yes.  It was."  Dak laughed.  "You sure are full of it, buddy!  I
thought I was gonna drown before you finally ran out of juice."  Then,
soberly, "Is that what it's always like?  When you suck me off?"
	"No.  It depends on how long it has been since the last time you
ejaculated.  I guess it had been a while for me."
	"Yeah.  Dammit!  You never said anything, all this time.  And,
fuckin' me, I never thought of just doin' it for you.  Just returning the
favor, for shit sake!  What a self-centered prick.  I'm really sorry."
	"Please don't waste time feeling remorse.  I only need for you to
be happy with what is happening now."
	"Sweet, sweet Babylamb.  I am.  I am."  He brightened.  "Besides,
now that I've tasted you, I'm addicted.  I'm gonna have to have my fix
every day."
	"I understand how that is," Ion said, sliding down Dak's torso, and
grabbing on to the big black pole that had wilted only a little as they
talked.  He pulled the head toward his mouth.  Dak's hand shot out and
covered his cockhead.
	"Uh, uh.  No more of that.  I found out you been hurting yourself
to make me feel good.  You son-of-a-gun, you've been throwing your jaw out
of joint so you can give me a blow job.  That's no fun!  We're gonna have
to think of some other way to do this."
	Ion gasped.  The blood drained from his face.  "No!  Oh, no, Dak.
It does not hurt me to take you inside my mouth or my throat.  You must not
think that!  I admit that the first time it did hurt.  Badly.  And the
second time too, nearly as much.  But soon it no longer bothered me at all.
And the reward that you were giving to me so generously would have let me
endure far more pain."  Ion shook his head.  "Haven't my actions made it
clear that I want overwhelmingly much to suck your cock?  Oh, Dak!  I don't
want to live if I can't have you in me.  All the way in me.  You joked that
you were addicted to the taste of me.  But I truly am addicted to you."
	Ion leaned forward to rub his face over Dak's sparsely haired
stomach.  "I am going to do as I have always done.  You must not think of
anything but the pleasure that we are both enjoying."  One hand stroked
Dak's chest, the other his lengthening dick, as Ion went on speaking
softly.  "Truly, the time of pain for both of us is done.  Now there is
only the happiness our two bodies can give to each other."  He reached up
and nuzzled Dak's chest, licked the nipple nearest him, then sank back down
to take the covered glans into his mouth.
	Dak groaned.  The familiar, but still incredible, sensations of
Ion's mouth surrounding his manhood with heat, wetness, and the maddening
flutter of the tongue drove away his will to protest.  Arching his back, he
felt his dick entering the tight confines of Ion's throat.  He lay back and
let the master play the instrument.