Date: Mon, 17 Aug 2015 22:03:51 +0000 (UTC)
From: Hairy Jacques <hairy.jacques@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Anything you want," Part 4

This is a true story, modified to protect the anonymity of those involved
and simplified to enhance the narrative's flow.

Reader feedback is welcomed, and the author will do his best to answer
questions and respond to comments. Contact him at
hairy.jacques@yahoo.com.

Thanks for visiting Nifty, a great site that for years has rendered a
great service. Please consider making a donation:
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

-------------------------------------------------------------------

"Anything you want," Part 4

Midway through my final semester, I had landed a great job about 500
miles away. He was still waiting tables but toying with the idea of
applying to grad programs. The good thing we had going was coming to an
end. He was my best friend. I really loved him. I was excited about the
future, but I was going to miss him something awful.

My family was set to arrive on Tuesday night, four days before
graduation. He had Mondays off and made it clear he had something special
lined up. He said he'd pick me at 6 p.m. and that I should dress nicely.
Around 5:30 I showered, shaved, and decided to wear my best pair of
khakis and a nice dress shirt. I even put on a little cologne. I saw his
car outside and went out to greet him. He had on dress pants and a
form-fitting silk golf shirt that really showed off his pecs. "So what's
going on?" I asked as I lowered myself into his passenger seat.

"Tonight," he said, "is your graduation present."

We pulled into the parking lot of the best steak house in town. He gave
his name to the maître d', who found our reservation. We were seated in a
quiet corner of the restaurant. I couldn't believe it. We didn't often
eat out together, and when we did it was usually Wendy's or the local
Mexican place. But now we were seated at a table for two, complete with
cloth napkins, a candle, and more utensils than I'd seen since my high
school prom.

He ordered a really nice bottle of Cabernet. "You're getting whatever you
want tonight," he told me after the waiter had departed with our drinks
order. We split calamari as an appetizer and we both decided on some
really nice filets. The conversation flowed as smoothly as the wine.
Every once in a while I caught myself staring into his eyes for a bit too
long, or noting the outline of his nipples through the silk of his shirt.
He was wearing cologne, too. It smelled so good. Get a grip, I told
myself: we're not on a date. But that's what it felt like. When I got
lost in his eyes, he held my gaze. His foot was gently touching mine
under the table--maybe nothing, maybe something. Also, he kept paying me
compliments. Not just about the job I landed or how well I'd done on my
senior thesis, but about me as a person.

My favorite compliment this one: "I want you to know that you're the most
giving, most unselfish friend I've ever had."

After dinner, he started driving back to his place. "Won't I need my
car?" I asked.

"I figured I'd let you stay over tonight," he said. There was a pause,
and then he chose different words: "If you don't mind, I'm happy to drive
you home tomorrow. Twenty-four hours from now your family will be here
and a week from now you'll be gone. Let's make the most of the time
that's left."

"That sounds good," I said. It didn't take long to get his place. I was
glad because I didn't know what else to say. Was tonight going to be
different somehow? It didn't have to be. I loved our routine. Part of me
didn't want anything different. But maybe there'd be more. I didn't want
to get my hopes up, but I couldn't help getting lost in thought about the
things we might do.

We got to his place. He'd clearly spent some time cleaning. It hadn't
looked so good since right after he moved in. "I picked up some beer," he
announced, opening the refrigerator door. Usually at his place I
contented myself with Bud Light, but now he was fully stocked with six
packs of all my favorites. "Tell me what you're drinking and then have a
seat on the couch." That's where I usually sat. He usually sat in his
favorite armchair, but after uncapping two bottles he sat right next to
me on the sofa. It was a big piece of furniture, but he was sitting less
than a foot away.

I thanked him for the beer. Then I looked him in the eyes. "Why all the
fuss?" I asked. "You didn't have to do all of this."

He smiled. "Like I said, you're my very best friend, and tonight's your
graduation present."

It was clear that my present wasn't just the great steak dinner. It was
the whole evening. I probably could have moved things forward right then
and there. He looked so hot. I loved his face, his eyes, and his strong
jaw. His tight golf shirt really showed off his torso, and now there were
sexy damp spots at his armpits. He was tall, and right next to me he
seemed even bigger. But it was still early--only about 8:30 p.m. And I
was enjoying all the attention. "What do you want to watch?" he asked.

It didn't take long to come up with an answer. "A River Runs Through It,"
I said. We'd seen it before together, he owned it, and it was one of my
favorite buddy movies. He popped the tape into his VCR. The next time he
got up to bring us beers he dimmed the lights a little bit. He went from
sitting close to me to sitting so that his body was touching mine. He put
his right arm over my shoulder, hugged me, and left it there, maintaining
the physical contact. I could feel his warmth and the subtle but
intoxicating scents of his sweat and his cologne. Of course my cock was
throbbing.

I got up to use the bathroom. It took me a while to piss through my
erection. When I returned to the couch I noticed two fresh bottles of
beer on the coffee table. I also saw that he was sitting sideways. His
back was against the armrest and his leg was extended across the length
of the couch. He'd kicked his shoes off. I decided to do the same. "Have
a seat," he said, patting the sofa between his legs. I did. "Lean back,"
he said. I relaxed against his chest. His strong arms closed around me as
my head rested on his shoulder. For a long while we sat like that. I
loved the feel of the stubble of his cheek touching and tickling my ear.
A few minutes later, his hands landed on my shoulders. He started to
knead them and rub my neck. "Let's get this off," he said while
unbuttoning my shirt. I got goose bumps feeling his fingertips brush the
skin of my chest. He pressed me forward as he massaged my back. It felt
so good.

"That feels amazing," I said, "but you don't have to."

"I know I don't have to, but you deserve it." Then he repeated what he'd
said earlier in the evening: "Tonight is your graduation present. You're
getting whatever you want."

It was a night I'll never forget.

He rubbed my back all the way through the end of the movie. I was putty
in his hands. We stood up to toss away the empty beer bottles. In the
kitchen, I confirmed: "Whatever I want?"

He pulled me close to him and looked into my eyes: "Anything you want.
Everything you want." I hesitated for a second, then turned my lips up
toward his. He leaned down to kiss me, gently first but then with more
intensity. I parted my lips and his tongue slid between them. I know it
was "just" kissing, but to me this felt like the most intimate thing we'd
ever done. I could feel the stubble of his chin brushing against my own
as our tongues made love inside our mouths.

Our hands were all over each other. I slowly pushed up his shirt to feel
his abs and then his pecs. His nipples were hard so I grazed over them
with the tips of my thumbs. I felt his hand rubbing my dick through my
khakis. Then he started unbuckling my belt. He unbuttoned my pants and
lowered the zipper, pushing his hand inside my boxers to gently stroke my
cock. When he glanced down to watch his fingers do their magic he noticed
something else. "My boxers!" he said, a big smile spreading across his
face.

I blushed, remembering the camping trip. "I like to wear them on special
occasions," I admitted.

"You chose a good night," he said. He took a step back. "Let's go to the
bedroom," he said, pulling me by the dick up the stairs.