Date: Fri, 30 Nov 2007 12:36:25 -0500
From: Andrew Phillips <andrewphile@gmail.com>
Subject: The Eyes Have It - Part 1

The Eyes Have It
by Andrew Phillips

NOTE:  This is a story of two adult males and their beginning
relationship.  If you like the story or just want to give me some
feedback please email me at andrewphile@gmail.com.   Thanks, Drew.

Part 1

It was the first meeting of our neighborhood association.   Wal-Mart
had proposed a Supercenter a half-mile from our quiet, tree-lined
subdivision and we were determined to stop it.  Since I had been on
the local Planning Commission I was chairing the meeting.  There were
about 20 people there, all homeowners, all familiar to me.

Betty Ferguson was going on and on about the immorality of the labor
practices of Wal-Mart and their treatment of women.  My mind wandered.
 Then a latecomer entered.  He was in his early 30's, perhaps 5 years
younger than me, and someone I had never seen before.  He must be the
person who had recently bought the Davis's small place.

He was about 5'9" (my height), with black hair, a handsome face with
dark eyebrows over the bluest eyes I had every seen.  He looked around
and when our eyes met they held for what seemed an eternity.  Probably
no more than a few seconds, but my heart stopped (or missed a beat).
I suspect (or hoped) his did, too.  But I was not to know that till
much later.  I smiled and his face lit up, too.  I felt my face redden
a bit as my blood surged into my face (and between my legs).

Betty had finished and the group was waiting for me to recognize the
next concerned citizen, which I did.  But my mind was somewhere else.

The meeting lasted about an hour and we had composed a letter to send
to the town council.  As the group dispersed our newest neighbor came
up to introduce himself.

"My name is Doug," he said, extending a hand.  We shook.  A good, firm
grip that held on for a fraction of second longer than was, well,
usual.  Again we kept firm eye contact.  It felt as if I could look
into his soul.

"I just moved into the old Davis place," he said, as I had suspected.
 We introduced each other and I discovered he was a new assistant
professor at the local college where I headed the admissions office.
He didn't mention family and I didn't mention my recent divorce and my
two sons (8 and 12) who I had every other weekend.  I offered to show
him around town and we arranged to meet for lunch the next day.

As he left I watched him.  He moved with an athlete's grace, his jeans
accentuating his narrow hips.  Damn, in the brief discussion I had not
checked out his package.  That was not typical of me, but his eyes had
captured mine and kept hold.

That night I fantasized in bed as I usually did after turning out the
light.  I though of Doug and instantly had a hard on.  Not to lose the
opportunity I took it in hand and jacked off.  A lonely but
immediately satisfying process.  I drifted off.

Next morning I woke and could only think of Doug's eyes.  As I
reviewed applications I kept looking at the clock, anxious for the
morning to be over.  Time never passed so slowly.  Finally at ten of
noon I put aside my papers and went downtown to meet Doug.

We sat a small corner table in the back of the bistro and began the
comparisons of education, up bringing, etc. that initiates all
friendships.  He had come from a small town in central Pennsylvania,
the youngest of three siblings.  Our eyes met frequently, and held
briefly.  As we dived into our sandwiches Doug's knee touched mine and
I reflexively pulled mine away.  Again it touched and this time I kept
contact.  One thing we had in common was our passion for running.  So
we agreed to meet on the next Sunday morning to run the towpath trail.
 Little did we know that we had another passion in common.

It was a cool May morning, the sun burning off the fog.  We met in the
parking lot next to the old lock.  He wore running shorts, slit up the
side, and a loose singlet.  He was built more like a swimmer than a
runner, lean and well defined.

We set off on a 5 K course and he set a quick pace.  Seeing me
struggle to keep up (although I consider myself very fit for 36) he
let up a bit and we finished in less than 25 minutes.

By now we were soaked in our own sweat.  His singlet adhered to his
body, impressively displaying his pecs and abs, not to mention his
distinct nipples.  I felt aroused and rearranged "things" so as not to
be obvious.

Doug, breathing deeply, suggested we go over to his place.  I flopped
down on a stool in his kitchen.  He asked if I wanted a beer.  He got
one from the fridge and reached over my back to put it in my grateful
hand.  I felt his body behind me, radiating heat.  As I grabbed the
bottle he held on to it and in pulling it down I felt his wet, hot
abdomen make contact with my sweaty back.  That moment seemed to hold
forever and I leaned back, making more contact.  I could feel his
crotch behind me, and something was truly growing there.  As he leaned
down I turned my head and our faces met and he kissed me.  A long,
gentle kiss.

Still holding my beer bottle I arose, turned to him and continued this
long kiss, face to face.  Our bodies merged, our crotches ground
together.  Having put my bottle down my hands explored his muscular
back soon descending to his thrusting butt and, one cheek in each
hand, pulled him even closer.  Our two engorged cocks rubbed together
through our shorts, their heads poking well above our waistbands.  I
stripped off his singlet and him mine.  Now my almost hairless chest
rubbed against his hairy one, our nipples erect.  I leaned down and
tongued his left one through the mat of dark hair and he moaned.  Our
embrace became even more urgent as we pressed our torsos together, the
friction of cock-to-cock taking over and leading to a great outpouring
of jism covering our abs.  We held on to each other, panting and
sticky with passion.

"Time for a shower." Doug said and off we went.

His large shower stall gave us room to soap up, in the process
renewing our lost rigidity.  He lathered my back and let a hand reach
around to gently massage my new hard on. I felt his slippery shaft rub
between my buttocks making both our cocks still harder.  I turned to
him and once more we kissed...long and with a lot of tongue.  My back to
the rushing water, his hands kneaded my butt as our raging cocks
dueled.  A finger explored my anus, slipping in and out.  My 20-cm.
cock must have lengthened another cm.  Just as I was about to shoot my
load again he turned on the cold water, saying, "Not yet, not here."

(to be continued)