Date: Fri, 2 Oct 2009 21:48:53 -0700
From: Oregon Bear <oregonbear9@gmail.com>
Subject: Comfortable Silence

This story contains graphic descriptions of adult male to male gay sex.  If
this is offensive or illegal for you to read, please leave this site.
Oregonbear9@gmail.com.

			    Comfortable Silence

       He was new to town, been here a month or so. I'd seen him at the
grocery store a couple of times, and at the post office.  I never saw him
with anyone, and he didn't wear a ring.  His grocery cart looked like he
was shopping for one, and I soon found out he'd rented one of the cabins
down by the river.
	Oh, he was a real one, that I knew.  I'd get a bit hard just
looking at him in the store, his firm ass tight under his jeans, his broad
shoulders flexing a bit as he carried his groceries out to his pickup.  His
hair was graying a bit, and his moustache and trim goatee were gray.  He
always wore T shirts, and his nipples poked out a bit, his pecs nicely
stretching the cloth of his shirt.
	Last week, I'd seen him at the gym, when I was there for my
workout.  I'd only been going to the gym for the last couple of months,
part of my new goal to get in shape, eat better, and take care of myself.
Well, my doctor had had some pretty strong input on that decision, but he
was right, and I had needed to drop about fifteen pounds, tone up my
muscles and lower my cholesterol.  I'd retired a couple of months ago, and
I wasn't out in the woods anymore, cruising timber and checking out the log
landings for the timber company.  It was easy to get a little flabby when
you weren't hiking up and down the mountains three or four times a week.
	Besides, I'd always liked lifting weights.  It had been a lifelong
hobby of mine, and it had paid off in college, getting that football
scholarship.  Now, though, I was one of the old duffers in the gym, but I
could hold my own and I often spotted for some of the high school jocks who
were down there most every day.  I even gave them a couple of pointers, and
they took me seriously.  The workouts were good for me and I was down ten
pounds and a couple of inches around my waist.  Felt better, too.
	Jim was his name, I knew that much.  And, he worked for the Forest
Service, their new supervisor.  I knew all the guys who worked there, and
having coffee with them a couple of mornings every week gave me a lot of
info on the new guy.  He was single, and unattached.  Moved here from
California to take a promotion.  He was a couple of years short of
retirement, and the new job would be his last move.  He'd grown up a few
counties away, and wanted to make this area his retirement home.
	One morning, he showed up for coffee at the diner, with the rest of
the loggers and Forest Service guys.  We'd usually get together on
Wednesdays, to shoot the breeze, and also do a little timber business.  For
most of us, it was the only time we really got to talk to each other.  If
we ran into each other in the woods, we didn't have much time to talk.  We
all worked hard, and the loggers got paid by the load, not the hour.
	Jim sat down across from me.  He fit in real good, and had been out
in the woods every day, making himself known to all the crew bosses, as
well as everyone at the Forest Service.  I'd heard his office liked him.
He didn't put on airs and didn't pull rank.  And, last week, when one of
their rigs got stuck in the mud, he jumped right in and snapped on the tow
cable, right in the middle of the mud hole.  Most bosses would let someone
else do that, but he'd earned his crew's respect that day.
	I introduced myself, and mentioned we both worked out at the gym.
Jim grinned a bit, saying he wasn't much to work out by himself, and it was
easy to make an excuse not to go there, after a day at work.  We kind of
hit it off, and ended up agreeing to meet that evening, after work, and
work out together.  I was getting a pretty good look at him.  He had a lean
belly underneath his T-shirt and I could see a nice tuft of chest hair
poking out of the top seam of his T-shirt.  His biceps were lean and hard,
and his moustache and goatee were neat and tidy.
	My balls rose a bit, and I hardened up a bit, just thinking about
him, and I spend the rest of the day dreaming about getting him into the
sack and having a good suck on his cock and hairy balls.  I hadn't been
laid for a couple of months, ever since Sam moved away, moving back to
Phoenix to take care of his folks.  We'd been together a couple of years,
and I still woke up in the morning, reaching over to run my hand across his
strong, warm chest in the early morning light.  It was Sam's idea to break
up, and he didn't want me to tag along to Phoenix with him.  He wasn't
ready to explain me to his parents, or the rest of his family.
	This was a hard place to live, all alone.  It was a pretty small
town, but folks kept it to themselves who they slept with, and having a man
as your roommate wasn't a big deal.  The biggest church in town was real
conservative, but even the preacher didn't make any noise about who people
slept with or having gays in the community.  Even the preacher's wife was
known to have a keen eye for a pretty lady once in a while, and no one
thought anything of it.
	I was pretty nervous, putting on my jock and shorts, and tank top,
before I headed down to the gym.  I caught myself flexing my bicep a bit in
the mirror.
	"Geez, this isn't a date," I thought.  I was acting like I was
going to the prom.  Being a bit lonely and a lot horny did that to a guy, I
guess.  Still, Jim looked real good to me, and my gaydar was telling me I
wasn't wrong.
	Jim showed up a few minutes after me.  He changed in the locker
room, leaving his green cotton twill Forest Service pants and T shirt for
some running shorts and a tank top.  He was pretty buff, and his chest
muscles filled out the tank top nicely.  There was more of that black and
gray chest hair to eye, and thick tufts of hair under his arms.  His thighs
were strong and firm, and I got a nice view of his crotch.  He certainly
wasn't a slacker in having the right size of equipment, at least for what I
wanted in a man.
	We got into a good weight routine, and soon, we broke into a good
sweat, working the machines and the hand weights.  We spotted each other on
the bench press and gave each other some pointers on the machines.  After
about a half hour, we jumped onto adjoining treadmills, and jogged for
about a half hour.
	It was a great workout, and we both had pushed ourselves a bit,
more than we would if we'd been there by ourselves.  We congratulated
ourselves for all that work, and headed for the showers.  Jim stripped down
quickly, and I got a real nice look at his bare ass and his nice thick
balls, and uncut cock, as he headed into the showers.  He was nice and
lean, hairy in all the right spots, and had a nice trail of fur running
down from his chest to his cock.
	As we showered, I got a good couple of glimpses of his low hanging
balls, as he leaned over to scrub his strong calves and feet, and his thick
hairy pits, when he was shampooing his hair.  Yeah, he was a nice addition
to the town.  He'd be a nice addition to my bed, too.  Real nice.
	We kept talking a bit, as we dressed.  I could tell he'd had a good
time working out together, and I mentioned I had a couple of steaks at
home, and I'd enjoy his company for dinner.  He said yes pretty quickly,
and offered to stop at the store for a bottle of wine to go with the meat.
That seemed like a great idea, and I told him where I lived.
	I'd started the coals in the little grill I had on the deck, on the
back side of the house, facing the river.  I lived about a mile out of
town, at the end of a road, and had a nice place by the river.  I didn't
have any neighbors, and it was just a peaceful place with lots of privacy.
The hot tub was at the end of the deck, looking right over the river.
	Jim opened the wine, while we were waiting for the coals to heat
up, and I made a salad.  The first glass of wine tasted great, and we
chatted a bit about working out, keeping in shape, and a bit of shop talk
about the Forest Service and loggers.  Jim had done his homework on me, and
knew my story.  He'd heard I'd worked hard my whole life and that everyone
in the woods had a lot of respect for me.  He'd known about Sam, too, and
we soon got into a good conversation about romance and loneliness in a
small town.
	I threw the steaks on, and as they started to sizzle, the smoke and
sizzling steak juices tempting our noses, I turned the tables a bit and
asked Jim about his love life.  He got real quiet, and looked away a bit. I
thought I'd gone too far, but he turned around, a tear running down his
cheek.
	"I've been real lonely, for a long time," he said.  "I had a
friend, but... well, he left me ...for another guy.  That was a long time
ago, and I've just never found anyone since."
	"It's not easy for me to talk about me and ... other men.  My
family, well, they know, but they pretend they don't know.  My mom still
asks me about grandchildren, but she knows. She knows I'm gay.  She just
can't say the word."
	"How long has it been, Jim, since you've been with someone?" I
asked.
	"Oh, God, a long time.  Several years.  It's been.... Its been
hard.  Real hard."
	The steaks were starting to burn, and I turned to scoop them off of
the grill and onto the plates.  They smelled delicious and my stomach
started to twitch at the thought of the thick slabs of steak, done to a
perfection, sliding across my tongue.
	"I'm pretty hungry," Jim said, and I nodded my agreement.  I set
the plates and the thick steaks on the picnic table on the deck, and we
both dove in, savoring our steak and salad, and a second glass of Jim's
wine.  In between mouthfuls, Jim talked about his lover and how they had
gotten along, and how much he missed him.  And, I talked about Sam and what
I'd been missing and thinking about, ever since he moved away.
	"I miss the sex.  Any man does.  We all need to get laid," Jim
said.  "But, almost more, I miss waking up next to him, feeling his warmth
under the covers, the touch of his hairy arm against me, the smell of him.
Sharing that first cup of coffee with him.  Taking a shower with him,
scrubbing his back, soaping up the fur on his chest, knowing that he loved
me."
	I knew what he meant.  I'd been missing Sam so badly.  Just that
quiet time in the morning, sipping coffee, watching the day begin, sharing
life with my lover, my partner.
	We'd finished the bottle of wine.  It had gone well with the steak,
and the salad, and the loaf of crusty sourdough bread that Jim had brought
along with the wine.  It had been a long time, too long, since I'd shared a
steak and a dinner and a bottle of wine with someone.  Especially someone
as studly as Jim.  We'd talked like we'd known each other forever, and this
was about the best evening I'd had in a long, long time.
	"How about another bottle?" I asked.  "I'm not trying to get you
drunk, but I've been saving a nice bottle of Syrah for a special occasion.
And, this seems like that time."
	"Sure.  That would be nice.  And, I suppose you're going to try to
take advantage of me," Jim replied.
	"Only if you're willing," I laughed.
	"I'm more willing now than I was an hour ago," Jim chuckled.
	I opened the second bottle, and we both sipped from our glasses.
We'd moved away from the table, to the two chairs overlooking the river.
The sun had just set, but it was still warm out, and it was a perfect
evening, not too warm.  The sky was a deep blue, turning to black, and
there were a couple of jet contrails in the western sky.  The moon was
almost full tonight, and was peaking over the eastern mountains.
	We sat there in silence for a while, letting the quiet of the
evening settle in, and the taste of the rich, slightly musty Syrah settle
across our tongues, its flavors moving across our taste buds, sparking a
variety of tastes.  It was a bit more complex than most Syrahs, earthy and
a bit peppery, finishing with a hint of blackberry.
	"This is nice. Real nice," Jim said, breaking the comfortable
silence in a quiet, deep voice.  It fit in nicely with the sound of the
river, and the occasional hoot of an owl off in the distance.
	"I'd like you to stay with me tonight," I said.  "You are what I
want in a man.  We don't have to be lovers tonight.  I don't have to push
you into that.  I just need someone to be with."
	Jim didn't say anything for a while.  The river kept making its
gentle noises, and the owl hooted a few times.  We both sipped our wine,
and I felt close, at ease with him.  It was a good silence.
	Whatever he decided, it would be fine with me.  He knew me pretty
good, by this point, and I knew we'd become good friends.  That was enough
for me.  Oh, sure, I wanted more.  A lonely, horny man always was looking
for a way to get laid.  But, enjoying a meal and a bottle of wine and good,
deep conversation with someone else was real nice, too.  Real nice.  And,
sometimes, almost better than getting laid.
	I'd take it as it came, this time.  I wasn't going to push him,
wasn't going to want something that wasn't there, or it wasn't time for.
Age gives a guy a little more room to wait, a little more patience.  And,
with patience comes good things.  I knew that, finally.  It has taken a
long time to get here, but this felt right.  It was OK to wait, now.  And,
I knew Jim felt that way, too.  We'd made a lot of connections tonight.
Deep connections.  We'd both been through a lot, and had the scars to prove
it.
	We had the time to take it slow, if we wanted it.  If we both
wanted to take it deeper, to be lovers.  And, in the waiting, good things
would happen.  And, if we did make love, it would be real, it would be what
we both wanted, at the right time.
	I could wait for that.  And, when and if it happened, it would be
real, and it would be complete.
	The river moved on, and it was peaceful.  The breeze had stopped
and only the soft yellow of the moon shined across the now blackening
forest and the river.  It was no longer day and the night had just barely
begun.  We had all the time in the world now.  All of the time in the
world.
	"Well, I'd like that.  I'd like that a lot," Jim said, easing into
the silence with his soft baritone.  His voice complimented the river, and
the far away high pitch of the pack of coyotes that had started up, high
against the ridge.
	"And, I want to make love to you," he said.  "Really make love.
Take it slow and easy."
	"I want to take a long time, to get to know you.  Sliding my
fingers around the buttons on your shirt, taking my time, with each button.
And, I want to feel every hair on your chest, as I open up your shirt.  I
want to feel the heat of your chest, and the softness of every bit of hair,
and I want to smell you, to really smell you.  And I want to feel the sweat
in your armpits and in the thick fur of your chest."
	"And I don't want it to end.  I want to unwrap you slowly, oh so
slowly," he whispered.  "I want time to stand still, until you hunger for
me.  And, until you want me so badly that nothing else matters."
	We fell into silence.  It felt good.  A good silence. I knew my
answer for Jim.  But, it was an answer that didn't need words.  The silence
felt good, comfortable. And, I knew that Jim knew what I wanted.  It was
the same thing he had wanted, for a long time.
	He stood up then, and so did I.  The wine glasses were empty now,
the Syrah was now only a memory on our tongues, and in our bellies.  And,
oh, perhaps, still in our brains, playing its music in the still warm night
air.
	He reached for me, finding my shoulder, under the thin cloth.  He
pulled me, slowly, towards him, and I felt the warmth of his strong
fingers, against the cloth, and, reaching into the skin of my shoulders.
He was warm, almost hot.  His breath felt warm, damp against my face, and I
could smell the faint spiciness of the wine in my nose.  I could smell his
sweat, clean and earthy, fresh from our workout in the gym, and the shower
and then in the smoke from the steaks sizzling, and the wine, and the faint
rich odors of the river water.  And I could smell his lust, his horniness,
just a bit.  It mixed with the remnants of the wine and the steak and the
river water, and with everything else.  And, it burned a bit in my belly
and in my lungs, and moved down to my cock, sending a new fire to my loins,
a fire that had not burned there for a long, long time.
	And, we took each other into our arms, muscle and skin and hair
against each other, and the faint glow of sweat on skin on a summer night.
And, heat of men and muscle, and of lust and need, and hunger.  We clinged
to each other, at first, loose and free, but soon, hard and tight against
each other, until cloth and skin were hard against each other, until I
could feel the heat of his chest, and the hard need of his crotch, pulsing
and eager, against me.
	His heart beat hard and steady, and I could feel the heat of his
blood, rising and pulsing and pushing against me.  I could feel his need,
and my own need, hot and needy, ready to erupt, ready to explode.  And, so
I pushed back at him, gripping him hard and sweaty, holding him next to me,
holding him tight against my own hard cock and full balls, against me,
hard, hungry.
	The sounds of the river and the faint cry of the coyotes and the
silent rise of the moon slipped away from us, and the only thing left was
the two of us, hard and tight against each other.  Whatever clock was
moving had stopped and the only thing that mattered was the two of us, the
one of us, as we moved together, feeling our hunger and flaming the fires
burning within us.  And, the heat grew, growing and moving inside of us.
	And, I found myself now on the deck, the hardness of the wood
against my naked back, Jim above me, pushing the thin fabric of my shorts
down my legs, until I was naked, skin against wood and skin against the
skin of my lover.  Sweat against sweat, and muscle pushed and held against
muscle.  And, finally, wetness around and over my cock, its pulse beating
in time with my heart, against the hardness of Jim.  Sweat poured down from
my pits and my crotch and my ass, soaking my balls and my asshole, until I
was drenched.  The strong, spicy stench of my sweat and Jim's sweat filled
my nose, my ears filled with the steady pump of my heart and Jim's heart,
as we danced and held each other.
	I was naked and open and vulnerable and free.  Free to be myself,
to be able to live and be open to who I really was and to who I really
wanted to be.  And, I wanted all that for Jim, too.  And, so I slowly, ever
so slowly, moved against him, against his shirt.  And, I felt his sweat,
and his lust, and took a button of his shirt, and held it in my mouth.  I
could taste his sweat, his acrid, horny, yeasty sweat.  And, I could smell
him and feel him and run my fingers through the slick sweaty curls of hair
in the curve between his nipples, where his fur grew thick and wiry, where
sweat pooled and glistened in the faint light of the moon.
	And I could smell his lust in the thick sweat of his pits, the hair
curly, plastered against his skin, almost funky, rich, and ripe.  With my
finger, I slowly stripped him of his shirt, its fabric now wet, sticking to
his furry, muscled body, until the shirt was nearly off of him, his hard
shoulders bare, wet, hairy.  I yanked the last of the fabric out of his
jeans, until his naked torso lay above me, wet, sweaty, open to my hand.
	His nipples, now hard, aching, tight, were laid bare to me, and I
dove into them, nibbling and fondling them with my moustache, my lips, my
tongue, tasting their salty hardness, hearing Jim moan softly, eagerly with
every nip, every caress.
	I moved lower, rubbing my stubbled cheeks against his hard belly,
feeling the damp hair of his belly against me, smelling the salty lust of
his sweat, until I found his hardness, beating hard against the cloth of
his shorts, until I could wrap my lips, my tongue, around his manhood,
taking him deep inside of me, tasting his sweat in the wet cloth.
	I reached around, feeling his thrusting, hard ass cheeks,
underneath the soaking wet cloth of his shorts, and pulled down, down,
until the cloth gave way, giving air to the hardness of his ass, the silky
feel of his fur, until, at last, he was naked, open to my mouth.
	And, I took him deep and hard inside of me, his juices hot and wet,
until I could taste all of him.  He was hard and hot and pulsing.  My ears
were filled with his moans and his pants and his little cries that he was
about to cum.
	I wanted more.  I wanted all of him.  And, I wanted him now.  All
of him.  He moved under me, moaning and thrashing, feeling the weight of my
own sweat, my own muscles and my own cock, until he was fully inside of me,
buried deep into my mouth, his thick, hairy balls hard and tight against my
lips, the end of his cock deep inside of me, soaking my tongue with his
juice.
	And, we danced and moved and thrashed around, moving higher and
deeper, until both of us could take it any longer.  And, we came.  Great
thrusts and spurts and cries, again and again.  Sweat and moans and more
thrusts and spurts.  The stars in the heavens joined us and echoed our
cries and moans, again and again, until we could take no more , until there
was nothing else to give.
	We laid in each other's arms, sweaty and hot, hearts beating
together, loudly and in sync.  Long strands of cum lay in long spurts
across our chests and in the thick fur of our crotches, beginning to dry in
the warm evening air, as we gasped for air.
	There was silence.  Welcome silence. Comfortable silence.  And, the
pounding of blood deep in my head finally eased, and once again, I heard
the soft sounds of the river.  And, I felt the warmth of my lover, his
stubbled face and the soft fur of his goatee against the fur of my balls,
my cock still held in his mouth, his tongue still coaxing the last of my
cum, deep against his lips.  The heat of his mouth was hot against my cock,
and his sweaty fur was hot against me, him arms wrapped tight around my
back, my butt, as we lay on the wood of the deck.
	"Will you spend the night with me?" I asked, finally finding my
voice.
	"I think you know my answer," Jim whispered, his goatee rubbing
softly against my balls.

Copyright 2009. Oregon Bear