Date: Wed, 2 Jul 2003 01:05:20 -0700 (PDT)
From: Michael Garrison <mng1114@yahoo.com>
Subject: Two Lives - Two Loves: Chapter 4

This story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to actual
events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.  This story also deals with love and
consensual sexual activities between men.  If you are not of
legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is
illegal, or are offended by such themes, do not read further
and leave this site now.

The author retains all rights to this story.  Reproductions
or links to other sites are not allowed without the
permission of the author.


Two Lives - Two Loves


Chapter 4


I opened the French doors out to the balcony and set the
doorstops to hold them open.  The view was wonderful and I
could see why Jon's uncle liked to greet guests this way.
It did have a wonderfully theatrical feel to it.

The sky was a deep blue and cloudless and there was a gentle
breeze blowing past me and into the bedroom.  Jon joined me
out on the balcony and slid his arms slowly around my waist.
This scene could not have been any more perfect.

"Gorgeous day, huh?" he said.

I turned to face him and pulled him in closer, "Not as
gorgeous as you," I said, giving him a peck on the mouth.  I
was really surprised when he pulled away quickly.

"Brad, someone's gonna see us standing out here like this,"
he said with a touch of alarm in his voice.

"Jon, look around," I said with a sweep of my finger.  "You
can't see the road from here and you can't see the neighbors
from here, either.  Oh, there may be some Russian spy
satellite with a bead on us," I said with a dose of sarcasm,
"but, hey, who are they gonna tell?"  Jon just kind of
grunted. He was a still little tense about it and was being
his sometimes Mr. Shy-Guy self, so I began to slowly massage
his neck and shoulders.

"Relax," I drawled, gradually pulling him into a hug, then
putting my nose down next to his, whispering, "C'mere."  He
lifted his face towards mine and his gorgeous blue eyes
closed as our mouths met and our tongues slowly probed.  Our
arms tightened, each of us pulling the other in until we
could pull no more.  I felt Jon's aura lightening, his
tension dissipating, his excitement quickly growing and I
could tell, from the way that he ever so slightly shifted
his weight, that he felt my excitement, too.

"You are so fucking gorgeous," I muttered gutturally,
pulling away only long enough to say so before forcing my
mouth back onto his.

I loved the feel of his body, almost as much as I loved the
feel of his hands over my own.  He was totally unlike
previous guys I'd done it with.  Jon was a truly gentle soul
despite the fact that he could sometimes, rarely though,
mind you, put on that typical asshole jock fa‡ade, but
that's all it was. A fa‡ade.  I truly loved being with him
and it almost felt like we were one person.  And then,
finally, it was time for us to become almost as one person
and I began to pull the tail of my shirt from his jeans.

He backed away enough to allow me to pull it off of him the
rest of the way.  And, surprised, he laughed when I tossed
it over the balcony where it landed in the bushes below.
Jon returned the favor and pulled his jersey from me,
tossing it over the side where it landed near mine.  We both
laughed and fumbled around as we kicked off our shoes and
began to unbuckle each other, not caring if anyone could
see.  I stripped off my jeans and underwear in the same
motion and Jon followed suit.  For a moment, we stood there
with mutual appreciation on that sun drenched balcony, our
toned bodies pointedly aching for one another.  I hugged Jon
again and felt him trembling slightly, certainly not from
being cold but from nervousness.  I knew the feeling; I'd
been there.

"C'mon," I said, nodding my head towards his uncle's huge
bed. "Let's get you warmed up," I said with a seductive
grin.

Jon lay down on the bed and burrowed his head and shoulders
into the cool of the goose down pillows.  He watched,
grinning, as I rolled a condom down over my length and
climbed into bed with him.  He spread his legs and pulled
them up to give me a better position.  I spread some of the
lube slowly around and into him; he seemed really tight.
Putting the lube back on the nightstand, I told him, "This
might be a little painful at first," I warned.  "Let me know
if it is and I'll go slower."

"I know you won't hurt me," Jon said, smiling again, his
voice quivering just a little.

I pulled his knees up close to my side.  I could not take my
eyes off of his as I slowly began to ease myself through his
opening.  It was a little difficult at first and I pulled
back when I saw Jon wince.

"No, go ahead," he said.

He winced again as I began to finally push past his opening
but his eyes closed and his expression changed to one of
pure satisfaction as I slowly eased my body into his.  I was
happy to see him begin to relax.  Damn, he was tight.  I
held my position for a few moments, savoring the wonderful
sensation of our joining.  I leaned down into him and
cradled him, resting on my elbows as he arched his back more
to follow me.  I could feel his ankles wrap around the back
of my thighs as I began a slow, rhythmic pulsing, driving
Jon crazy as I massaged his prostate.

"Feel good?" I whispered.

"Oh, yeah," he droned.

The cool afternoon breeze felt too wonderful and cooled us a
little as we sweated.  Neither of us spoke.  We didn't have
to.  Each of us knew how the other felt.  Only our
occasional moans and the squeaking of the bed broke the
absolute stillness of the room.  Jon lightly, slowly
massaged my arms and shoulders as my sweat dripped on his
face.  He ran his palm over my forehead and used the sweat
to help lube his masturbating.  I was getting close; I knew
we both were.  I could feel the tension welling up in me and
I began to feel Jon press a little harder upwards.  His
grunts were getting shallower and more frequent.  My
thrusting became more insistent until I began to feel the
familiar tension creep over me.  "I'm cumming," I
breathlessly told Jon.  "Do it, baby, do it," I thought I
heard him whisper feverishly.  Finally, instinctively, I
pushed myself as far into Jon's superb body as I could and
grabbed him tightly as an almost electrical warmth surged
over me in waves as I filled my best friend to the sharp,
almost barking grunts of my own unearthly satisfaction.

Moments...

Moments...

Time did not exist at that moment...

...that exquisite moment.

I rested briefly, catching my breath.  I knew he had not yet
cum and I began pumping Jon again with my semierection until
I heard him getting close, his body tensing as I felt his
arms gather me in, almost to the point of crushing me, as he
emptied himself between us, softly moaning with each pulse.
I waited for a moment, just relishing the feel of his
heaving chest, listening to his panting. Sliding along his
hot essence, I pulled myself up, slipping out of him.  We
relaxed and began to stretch out as I cupped the back of his
head in my hand and pulled his mouth to mine, each meeting
the other tenderly at first and then with wonderfully
unrestrained passion.  Our arms fondled aggressively; our
legs intertwined and I loved the feel of his calves pressing
hard against my own.  To my mind, this was truly heaven on
Earth and I could not have wished for a better way to have a
first time with Jon.

"How was I," he finally whispered.

"You were outstanding," I told him.  "How did you like it?"
I asked.

"Put on another condom," came his quick reply, accompanied
by that dazzling smile.

                         *  *  *  *

The noonday sun faded gradually to the very late afternoon.
Now low in the sky, it shone its rays through the French
doors and across Jon's face and hair, truly giving him an
etheric glow as he napped.  Waking from my own catnap, I
picked up my watch from the nightstand, squinting against
the light streaming into the room: 6:05.  "Wow," I thought.
"Been at it longer than I thought."  I looked over at Jon
and smiled.  The strong contrast created by the sunlight
accentuated every ridge and valley of his body.  "Welcome to
your new world, baby," I thought.

The loud gurgling of my stomach quickly broke my fixation
and I realized that we hadn't eaten anything since that
morning. I was starving again.  "Jon," I whispered, lightly
running my fingertips over his washboard.  "Jon, wake up," I
said, a bit louder this time.  He began to stir.

"waaa...," came a low mumbled reply.

"I'm starved; let's go eat," I said, shaking his shoulder.

"mmmm...," he mumbled again.  Heavy sleeper, this guy.  I
could've dropped a bomb next to the bed and he wouldn't have
woken up.

"Let's GO!" I said more insistently, shaking him by the
shoulder.

"All right!" he started.  "I'm up, I'm up!" he said before
easing into a slow luxurious post-nap stretch, ending it
with a loud yawn that I was sure rattled the windows
downstairs.  "What time is it?" he asked finally.

"'bout ten after six," I said as his stomach started
gurgling too.

"Yeah, I'm hungry, too," he said.  "Let's go out. I don't
feel like cooking.  What're we gonna wear, though?" he asked
with that impish way of his, "We threw our clothes out the
window."

"I'm sure you brought more," I said.  I saw I was going to
be playing straight man a lot for Jon's quirky sense of
humor.  I went to get dressed.

It never seemed to take me more than 15 or 20 minutes to get
ready to go somewhere.  A quick brush of the hair, slap on
some aftershave, dive into my clothes and that was it.  Jon
was a different story, I was finding.  He spent more time in
the bathroom than any man, straight or gay, that I knew.
His bathroom door was slightly ajar and I heard him
puttering around in there doing God only knew what.  Not
knowing how long he was going to be, I sat down and drummed
my fingers against the arm of the chair.

"Quit lookin' at yourself and let's GO!" I called to him.
"Trust me, you're gorgeous!"

I was stunned when I heard his voice, "Thanks, so are you.
What're you doing?  I've been waiting downstairs," come from
the other side from where I sat.

I stared at Jon, half peeking around the corner of the
hallway door, for a moment in disbelief, my head then
snapping around to look at the bathroom door.  It was half
open, the room dark.  I jumped out of the chair and pushed
the door open looking around.  Nothing.  I could feel the
little hairs on the back of my neck start to rise.  "Oh,
God, that's creepy," I said.

"What?"  Jon asked, puzzled.  "Did you see something?" he
said as he came to inspect the bathroom himself.

"I could have sworn you were in there," I said, still in a
state of disbelief.

"Hmmmmm," Jon started, "Maybe the ghost has taken a liking
to you," he said as his fingers crawled up my back in
Tarantula fashion.

"Cut it out!" I yelled, twisting and knocking his arm away.
"I'm already creeped out enough for one day, thank you very
much!"

"Sounds like a good dinner conversation to me," he said,
"but we need to find dinner first...and beer, definitely
beer!"

"I need a few, that's for sure."

As we were heading out, Jon said, "When we get back, you
wanna move our stuff into my uncle's room?"

"Absolutely"

                         *  *  *  *

It took us awhile to find the right place to eat.  That's
not to say we were particularly picky, we just wanted to
find a place that would serve us beer without too many
questions.  It was a royal pain being underage.  I wouldn't
be 21 until November and Jon was still a month away from
turning 20.

The first place we tried was a kind of seedy looking
barbecue place that had the look of a place where people
minded their own business.  Big mistake.  It was really the
kind of place where everyone turned around and stared at you
when you came through the door.  Teeth seemed to be in very
short supply in this joint.  It was most definitely not the
kind of place where a couple of clean-cut, fresh-faced,
freshly laid gay guys, albeit very straight acting, would be
welcome.  We did not let the doorknob hit us in the ass.

We were luckier with the second place we tried.  It was one
of those older chain burger joints with the catchy
names...Steak and Suds, Beef and Bird, something like that.
You've seen every one of them:  dark Tudor-ish d‚cor, cheap
fixtures, wooden floor covered with peanut shells, burgers,
chops and, most important, beer.  "Please, dear God, don't
let them card us," I chanted under my breath.

The hostess sat us in one of the side booths, which was
great, gave us some privacy to talk.  The waiter came around
with the menus, introduced himself, Ron-and-I'll-be-your-
waiter, and asked what we wanted to drink.  I asked what he
had on draught...implied age.  He spouted off the list and I
selected the Killian's.  Jon made that two.  Ron, a youngish
guy, looked at us for a quick second and then just walked
off with a slight smile.  I couldn't tell exactly, due to my
current distraction, but I thought he might be a friend
giving a couple of other friends a break.  We were very
thirsty, very hungry and very thankful that he wasn't too
inquisitive.

We were studying the menus when he came back with two large,
frosted mugs and a basket of peanuts.

"Oh, God, thanks," I said to him as he set the beer down.
"It's been a long day."

We ordered the potato skins to begin with and then a couple
of bleu cheese bacon cheeseburgers.  "Great," he said, "I'll
get that right in."  As he walked back towards the kitchen,
he stopped to check on one of the other tables.  Jon and I
both noticed the great ass.

"Mmm," Jon grunted quietly.

"Runner, I'll bet," I observed, "Long legs."

Ron the Runner Guy disappeared back in the kitchen and we
started in on the beer.  We clinked our mugs and I toasted
Jon to our future happiness.  We quickly downed about half
of our mugs and a slight buzz set in right away.  It felt
really, really good.

"Oh, I needed that," I said, setting the glass down.

"So what's up with that deal back at the house?" Jon asked.

I told Jon about my two experiences, about when I was in the
bathroom that morning and thought I heard someone come in
and the one just earlier when I thought he was in the
bathroom when he was really downstairs.  I thought it was a
little unsettling.  Jon listened attentively as I recounted
the details.

"Well," he began, searching for the words, "Brad, it could
be just your imagination, you know."

"Maybe."

"But on the other hand...I think... you're a helluva lot more
sensitive to this kind of thing than most people...more than
you want to admit to yourself even."

I just stared at him and nodded, clenching my beer and
taking another long draw.  You might not think it to look at
him but Jon could get very thoughtful and sympathetic when
the topic became deep.  I generally learned to listen to him
no matter how ridiculous it might seem at first.

"Take for instance that canoe trip we were all going on last
spring.  You said it would be a waste of time and tried to
convince the rest of us.  And then the guys who did go came
back looking like drowned rats after that huge thunderstorm
came up out of nowhere."

"Yeah, I remember," I said with a wry smile.

Jon started to laugh, "Boy, was Franklin..." He was our Social
Chairman at the time,  "...ever pissed!"  We both started
laughing.

"Yeah, I think he was madder at me for being right than at
the weather.  Geez, he didn't talk to me for nearly three
days..." I cackled.  "...that asshole!"

"Then there was that time when you told Kreuger to take a
different way when he was going out to do grocery shopping
and he got into that nasty little fender bender."

"Yeah," I said quietly.

"I guess what I'm saying is that you've got to deal with the
possibility that you might really be psychic," Jon said, and
then in that mimicking elderly voice he sometimes did, "...or
what we old peoples calls da Sight!" He said, winking.

"How we doin', guys?" came Ron's chirpy voice.

"Great," Jon chirped back.  "We're telling ghost stories,
wanna join us?"

"Ghost stories?" asked Ron, puzzled.

"We are not," I droned.  I'd found that after a beer or two,
Jon would come out of his shell a little more...sometimes a
lot more.  When he did, he had the greatest knack for just
spontaneously drawing complete strangers into a conversation
using the most inane derivation of whatever we were talking
about at the time.  Ninety-nine percent of the time people
joined in and, to tell the truth, it was an invaluable asset
to have in our corner when we were rushing for pledges.
Sometimes, however, it could really get under my skin and I
think he did it just to see my reaction.

Ron set down the potato skins and a couple of fresh beers,
"You looked like you could use some fresh ones," he said.
"So what's up?  I love a good ghost story."

I was inclined to be a bit more reserved about it but Jon
just opened right up and told Ron everything to that point.
Well, not everything, just about how we were house sitting
for his uncle that summer and how I was thinking I was
hearing things and a little bit of what he knew about the
house.  Ron listened intently; I could tell he was
definitely interested in Jon's story.

"Wow, that's pretty cool," he said after Jon had finished
his monologue.  "Can I ask, is this that huge old place up
off of Route 32?  The one you can barely see from the road?"

"That's the one," Jon confirmed.

"Oh, wow," Ron exclaimed.  "I've got a friend who's really
into that sort of thing.  She's psychic and she's always
been curious about that house."

"You wanna come see it?" Jon offered.

"Great," I thought, let's get the news cams out there while
we're at it.  I could hear the teaser now: "Gay
Ghosthunters...Film at 11."  It might be fun but I was still a
little hesitant.

"You don't mind?"

"No, bring your friend, too.  We could get her take on
it...maybe have some fun," Jon said.

"Excellent," Ron said.  "Work on those skins and let me go
check up on your burgers."

I bit off a chunk of potato skin; the cheese almost seared
the top of my mouth.  A bit frantic, I put out the fire with
what was left of my first beer before I said, "You sure you
want to do this?  Next thing you know it'll be all over town
and we'll never get any privacy."

"Oh, it will not," Jon said with a wave of his hand as he
bit into his potato.  "We'll have some fun with it, that's
all.  It's not like they're gonna bring the whole town with
them.  Besides, it's nice to have a friend or two in the
area, you know?"

"You just want to see what Ron's butt looks like in the
daylight," I grinned.

"Oh...yeah...like you don't," he replied.

Ron came back with a couple more mugs, as we were getting
low again,  "These two are on me," he said.  We thanked him
profusely and he said that he'd just been able to get ahold
of his friend who was very interested in seeing Jon's place.
We bandied about some days and decided that the following
Saturday worked out best for everyone.  Jon and I were
flexible for the next two weeks, Ron had that day off and
his friend didn't have to work.  So we decided to get
together around elevenish and then do lunch.  We exchanged
phone numbers when Ron came back with the food in case
anything came up.

After we ate, we chatted with Ron a little more and I was
starting to get excited about getting together.  I was the
one who usually went in for this sort of thing so I was a
little surprised that Jon had prompted all of this.  His
enthusiasm was contagious and by the time we left, he had us
both pumped up.

Back at the house, we moved all our stuff into the Master
Bedroom.  We hung out in the den and surfed around the cable
for a while.  Nothing on.  Two million channels and nothing
on, so we bagged it and went to bed.

We didn't get to sleep for quite some time, however.

                         *  *  *  *

(To Be Continued)

                         *  *  *  *

I wanted to take this opportunity to thank those people who
have written with their kind thoughts for the story thus
far.  This story is the first this author has posted
anywhere and, since new waters are always a bit
intimidating, their words of encouragement have been very
much appreciated.  Many thanks, again...Michael.