Date: Thu, 04 Apr 2002 02:36:03 +0000
From: tom fox <tfox2099@hotmail.com>
Subject: Hot Springs - II

This fantasy story is completely fictional.  If you are offended by stories
of male/male physical relationships, or are not of legal age, do not read
this story.  If you enjoy this story, or would like to offer comments or
suggestions for future stories, I'd love to hear from you. Send comments,
suggestions, etc to tfox2099@hotmail.com

There are 3 parts to this story, and are best read in order; otherwise,
Parts II and III will not make much sense!

Hot Springs - II

"Arrrggghhh!"  I awoke with a start.  My body was drenched in sweat,
trembling uncontrollably.  I was completely confused as to where I was. I
looked around the room to get my bearings.  I didn't recognise anything in
the room, and I began to panic.  I looked at the alarm clock on the
nightstand next to the bed.  It was 2:30.  The room was dark, with only the
faint glimmer of light coming in through the curtains, from the streetlight
outside the window.  I felt as if I were in a daze, looking at the shadowy
forms within the room, and took a deep breath to assess where I was.  I
started to focus my eyes on my surroundings, to determine where I was.  My
eyes became adjusted to the faint light coming in to the room.

I looked over at the body next to me in my bed, a small beam of light
breaking through a space between the curtains, and faintly lighting this
man next to me.  I was in a motel room.  My motel room.  I looked more
closely at the body next to me, the sheet down around his waist, his
exquisite back muscles exposed to me as he laid there on his side, the
rhythmic breathing sounds coming from deep within him.  His right arm was
up over his head, the palm of his hand laying on his pillow above him.  The
long, coal-black hair framed the side of his face exposed to the light,
hair that was somewhat in disarray, falling down around his neck and
shoulder.  Even in such a relaxed state, I could see those incredible lat
muscles, strained from the position of his right arm.

He rolled over toward me, his arm coming down from that position above him.
His back was squarely on the bed, while in the same motion his left hand
reached down and scratched his groin, pulling at the sheet covering him, he
moving his fingers in a scratching motion on the side of his manhood.  He
was still sound asleep, his breathing continuing in that deep, rhythmic
motion.  His hair was still disheveled across his forehead, but his mouth
and nose were exposed, that beautifully chiseled nose and mouth, that mouth
with just a faint pout to it.

Dan.  I'd met him at the Hot Springs.  Now it was coming back to me, where
I was, what I was doing here.  I'd come in off the trail after spending a
week hiking the mountains in solitude.  I'd gotten a ride into town, found
a motel to say in, and had taken in the Hot Springs.  The old gentleman.
He had recommended the motel to me, and suggested that I enjoy the Hot
Springs.

Enjoy, I had!  The memory of what had happened just a few hours before,
came back to me.  I'd taken that magnificent body in a way that I'd not
experienced for a very long time.  And as I laid there remembering, my own
passions began to stir again.  I felt a heat in my crotch, as my cock began
to expand with the thought of this man next to me, and what we had done,
what I wanted to do again.  I reached down with my right hand and began to
stroke my stiffening rod, gently stroking back and forth, my thumb
massaging the crown of my dickhead, gently teasing my pisshole.  I moved my
hand down to my ball sac and gently massaged my orbs, feeling the pleasure
of a hand against that sensitive skin.  God, I wanted him to take me as I
had taken him, I wanted to feel that beautiful prick prod my manhole, feel
the head of it entering me for the first time - for the first time I'd had
any man do that, in a very long time.

With my left hand, I gently reached over to Dan's body, tentatively
reaching undering the sheet and touching his side, those muscular obliques
now relaxed.  I moved my hand toward his groin, and teased the crotch hairs
surrounding my target.  His limp cock was lying there pointed up toward his
abdomen, exposing the underside to my touch.  I gently stroked back and
forth on his limp manhood with my index finger, all the while tugging on my
own rigid cock.  I gently encircled his cock with my fingers, and boldly
proceeded to grasp his rod, while I continued to stroke my own rod.  He
didn't stir at all, his breathing still deep and rhythmic, but an ever so
slight moan came from deep within him.  I continued to hold his cock, not
moving my hand, just enjoying the sensation of the touch of him.  His cock
did not stir, and I pulled back the foreskin to expose the head of that
beautiful piston.  He repositioned his hips slightly, turned his body
toward me, which made it a bit easier for me to grasp him.  With the
foreskin pulled back, I continued to massage the head of his cock, just as
I was doing with my own cock.  He was still sound asleep and his cock
remained limp in my grasp.

I continued to stroke my own rod, needing to feel a sense of relief.  I
quickened the pace a bit, then slowed down, quickened the pace, and then
slowed down, continuing this ritual until I felt that burning heat deep
inside start to build, and knew what I had to do.  I spread my legs further
apart as I continued to stroke my rock hard rod, all the while maintaining
a grip on Dan's limp manhood.  I felt the tension building inside of me, my
breathing began to quicken, and I felt that first glob of juices shoot from
my cockhead, then another and another and another.  I continued to jerk
off, still holding Dan's cock, and released a slight moan of my own, as I
enjoyed the feeling of relief that I needed.  I continued stroking my still
rigid cock, massaging my own juices into my flesh, feeling one last shudder
as that last glob of semen shot from within me.  I stopped stroking, and
gently massaged my entire crotch, feeling that jism in the palm of my hand
as it mingled with the hairs of my groin.  I took a few drops on my finger
and reached up to my mouth, tasted my own sweet juices, that sticky,
bittersweet taste that lingered on my lips, as I sucked my fingers.

I looked over again at Dan, sleeping so peacefully next to me, my hand now
gone from his beautiful manhood, still limp, lying to one side.  I started
to feel something inside of me, deep within my soul, but I couldn't quite
get a grasp of what this feeling was.  I knew that I craved the physical
contact with this incredible man, but there was something...something more.
I watched him sleep and wondered what he was dreaming about.  Dreaming.
That's when I remembered why I woke up with such a start.  The dream, THAT
dream.  It had come back again.  I had hoped that my time away from the
world would make the dream go away - but it had not, it was back with a
vengence, it was haunting me...again.

*****

He'd been drinking all day.  I'd just gotten home from a hard day at the
office, and Evan was in the Living Room, sleeping on the sofa, several
empty beer bottles on the floor, even more on the coffee table.  He was
lying there just in his boxers, and from the looks of things, had not made
much of an effort to do anything other than drink all day.  The TV was on,
but the sound had been muted, the crawl line of the closed captioning on
CNN coming across the bottom of the screen.  The telephone was beside him,
and there was an open newspaper partially across his lap, open to the
classified ads.  A phone book stood open on the coffee table, amongst the
scattering of beer bottles.

Evan was a construction worker, and had lost his job several days before.
His boss had accused him of drinking on the job, said that he couldn't
afford the risk of losing his contracts because of a drunken foreman not
being able to do his job, and putting his crew at risk.  Evan denied it,
said that he had not been drinking, but I knew better.  This wasn't the
first time that Evan had been fired from a job for the same reason.  For
whatever reason, Evan had been drinking more and more lately, but wouldn't
admit to it, wouldn't talk about it.  My worst fear was that he was
becoming an alcoholic, that he WAS an alcoholic.

We'd been together for 3 years.  We were complete opposites.  Where I was
fair, he was dark.  I was fit, he was stocky and semi-muscular.  I was
smooth, he was hairy.  I was Scottish, he was Greek-Italian. Neither of us
was what one would call GQ handsome, but I'd been told that I was "cute",
and though average looking, there was an endearing quality about Evan.  For
whatever reason we had hit it off, became friends, and then became lovers.
He was the best thing to happen to me in a long time.  He moved in with me,
since I had a house and he was living in a rented trailer.

I walked over to the sofa, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and walked
into the kitchen to get dinner ready.  Seems like this had been the same
scenario from the day before, and the day before that.  I didn't know what
to do, so I did nothing, I started cleaning up the kitchen and looked in
the refrigerator to figure out what to make for dinner.

I felt his crotch on my ass as I bent over to look in the fridge, and he
reached around my waist, pulling me to him.  He pulled me up from my
semi-crouched position, and turned me around to face him, drawing my face
close to him, kissing me long and hard on the lips.  I could smell the
stale smell of beer on him, and felt the stubble from his beard, his
unshaven face pressing against my beard.  I pulled away from him.  Christ,
he'd not shaved in three or four days, and that strong chin of his, his
jawline and cheeks, were now covered with a dark growth of beard.

"Didja miss me?" he said in a tone that was a cross between a drunken slur
and a haughty sneer.

"No, not really.  Look, I had a really rough day at the office today and
the last thing I need tonight is another evening with you and your pity
party," I said, trying to muster more courage than I really felt.

"Fuck you, you cocksucker.  I don't need your fuckin' pity.  I got me a job
lined up for tomorrow, asshole.  So don't go giving me a hard time with
your shit...".The look he gave me was one that bore right through me, at
once menacing and at the same time, pleading.

I looked at him intently, my emerald green eyes meeting his soulful brown
eyes, those eyes that had not looked directly at me for several days, those
eyes that nows stared back at me defiantly.  I searched his face, looking
for a clue as to what he was really thinking, what he was really feeling,
what was eating him up inside.  His eyes stared back at me, but softened
ever so slightly, and then more so, as I continued to stare at him
searchingly.  I reached for his face with my right hand, gently stroked his
cheek and felt the stubble of beard growth against the palm of my hand.  I
took my index finger and gently probed the outline of his mouth, tracing
around his lips, those beautiful, full lips, now shaded in dark fur.

"All I want you to do is to be there for me," he said, the defiance and
anger melting from his voice, his words now barely a whisper.  He continued
to match my searching stare, his eyes pooling with moisture, a stray tear
escaping those beautiful lashes and running down his cheek. His eyes
searched mine as intently as mine searched his.  "I know that I've been a
bear to live with, and I don't know why.  Maybe it's because I'm too
comfortable with you, maybe it's because I love you more than I ever
thought I could, more than you'll ever know, and that I'm not good enough
for you," his voice cracking as he choked out those words.

I took him in my arms, held him close to me, my cheek next to his cheek, my
chest against his chest, his bare, hairy-matted chest pressing against my
silk shirt, my arms around his shoulders, his arms around my waist.  We
stood like that, just holding each other, Evan sobbing while I held him
tight.  I gently kissed his left ear, his curly black hair coarse against
my face. Tears welled up in my eyes, and in spite of myself, I was crying
too.

I pulled back from him ever so gently, tears streaming from my eyes, and
looked at him squarely.

"Don't you know how much I love you, Evan?  I don't care that you're not
working right now.  I knew that you'd have ups and downs from the very
beginning.  That's OK.  Because I love you and I love to take care of you.
Christ, we've been together for so long, I thought you knew exactly how I
felt about you.  I'm crazy in love with you.  You make me happy, you make
me laugh, you make me cry....  you... you...make me want to be a better
man", I said, not realising what I was saying, how cliched it must have
sounded.

Evan looked at me in amazement, a small shudder of stifled laughter, and
then a stream of hardy laughing, not laughing at me, but laughing with me.
It suddenly came to me what I'd said, and I realised that I sounded
like...who?... Keanu Reeves in one of his movies, which one was it?
NO...JACK NICHOLSON! I burst out laughing as well, roaring with laughter,
tears streaming down my face, both from the emotion of the love I felt for
Evan as well as the uncontrollable laughter that was rolling through my
body, and the release of tension that was between us.  We held each other,
now with our arms around the other's waist, our crotches melded as one, our
torsos pulled away in laughter, looking like some crazed letter "Y" in a
spasm of merriment.

I felt the heat rising in his crotch, matching the heat rising in my own
crotch.  We started grinding our crotches together, his stare that was once
defiant and angry, now full of passion.  He started stripping my suit and
tie off, flinging the clothing across the kitchen with abandon, until I was
standing in front of him, my briefs straining against the bulge that was my
engorging cock.  Evan pulled his boxers off in a mad rush of passion and
dropped down in front of me, while in the same motion, pulling my briefs
down around my ankles, my 6-inch rod now fully engorged and ready for
action.  He took my cock immediately into his mouth, sucking on it like a
man possessed, as though he was sucking on a drinking straw.  "Hold on
there, big guy", I said with a laugh, and pulled him up to me, so that we
were face to face, cock to cock. Evan was just a bit shorter than my 5 feet
10 inches, and even though he was pretty muscular, there was a beginning of
a beer belly, pressing against my smooth stomach.  His hairy body pressed
against my smooth, hairless body in a mad embrace, as he directed me over
toward the kitchen table. We kissed long and hard, his tongue probing my
mouth, stroking my teeth and tongue, my willing tongue.  We separated from
our kiss, and he leaned me back on the table, my reclining body
perpendicular to his upright body.  He gently but purposefully pushed my
legs up and back so that I was bent in half, providing him with a ready
access to my waiting manhole.

Where my cock was average and thick, his was long and slender, about 10
inches, but not as thick as mine.  I loved to suck that beautiful cock,
taking as much as I could into my throat and sucking him until he was dry.
More often than not, I fucked him, or sucked him.  I'd always been the
dominant, aggressive one in our relationship, he the passive partner.  It
was only on rare occasions that he wanted to fuck me, usually wanting to
face fuck me and not take my velvet hole.  I was surprised at Evan's
aggressiveness, but certainly not disappointed.  I'd wanted him to take me
for a long time - it had been months since the last time he had taken me
with such passion.

Evan reached for the cooking oil that I'd gotten out of the pantry and
lubed up his rock hard cock, the pre-cum dripping from the end of his cut
head.  He placed a healthy dollup of that cold oil against my hole, and my
muscles involuntarily shuttered and retracted from the feeling of that cool
sensation.  His fingers probed my asshole, first one, then two, then three
fingers, massaging my opening, pressing against that hot button that always
got me going.  He slathered up his hot cock and gently substituted his
fingers for his ready pole, pushing the head easily into my eager, waiting
hole.  I spread my legs wider, and pulled them back, at the same time,
leaned my head up to watch him, and grabbed and pulled at my own pud, which
was also leaking like crazy.  He slowing pushed himself in against the
muscles that guard the gate, and I pushed out with my interior muscles, so
that they would grab around his cockhead and pull him deep inside of me.  I
could feel his head going past the muscles, and he was inside of me.  I was
in ecstasy, it had been far too long since he was at last inside of me, and
I was reveling in the feeling of it.  He was only about halfway or so in,
and I felt him continue to press on inside of me until I could feel him
reach bottom and he as all the way in.

Evan stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, only moving his
hips around in a circular motion, not moving in and out, but sort of
stirring my hot ass with his ready rod.  I could feel the warmth starting
to well up deep within my balls and begged him to ride me hard.  He slowly
started to pump in and out of me, pulled out nearly all the way and then
plunged in, his raging cock pressing against my prostate and driving me
wild.  He began to pick up the rhythm, pistoning me with abandon, knowing
that it would not take much of this to make either of us cum, it had been
so long since I had felt his hot cock deep inside of me.

He continued to pummel me as I watched his hot peter ramming into me, and I
looked up to see the expression of sheer joy on his face.  He too had
forgotten what it felt like to be inside of me, and from that look of
pleasure that I gave him, I could tell that it wasn't going to take much
for him to shoot his load deep inside of me.  I jerked my own cock with
abandon, rapidly matching the pace at which Evan was pistoning me, and felt
the fire burning out of control deep within me.  I felt the wave starting
deep inside, as my own orgasm was beginning to drive me crazy, that feeling
that is unlike any other feeling known to man.  At the same time, I felt
Evan's hot cock tense and grow even longer and larger, the veins on the
underside of his cock popping out, as the first spurt of hot jism shot from
my lover's loins deep inside my loving hole.  He let out a string of words,
first in Italian, then in Greek, words that he always shouted whenever he
came deep inside my throat, words that I always loved to hear.  I let out a
low, gutteral, steady moan that built to a crescendo as I shouted " OH
YEAH, LOVER...GIVE IT TO ME... .OHHHH... ...FUCK ME, EVAN....GIVE ME ALL
YOU GOTTTTTTT............OH, GOD..... I LOVE YOU, EVAN......
OHHHHHHHHHH......"  and as I shouted, and he chanted in Italian and Greek,
we both shot load after load of hot cum, his deep inside of me, mine all
over my chest and abs, in a wave that drove me crazy with delirium.

Evan continued to pump into me, even after I knew he was spent, and I felt
the burning deep inside of me as his engorged rod continued it's
machine-like action.  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he
slowed down to practically nothing, and then started that circular,
stirring motion, until I could feel his peter going limp inside of me.  He
pulled himself out of me, gently leaned forward and kissed me long and
hard, his tongue probing my mouth, the smell of stale beer wafting into my
nostrils.  I steeled myself against that smell, stifling the urge to pull
away from him.

Evan looked at me, his eyes meeting mine, searching my eyes, looking for
something.  What?  I hadn't a clue as to what he was looking for, what was
haunting him, causing him to look so deep inside of me.  Evan pulled back
quickly, and looked around for his boxers.  "Gotta run to the store, Tom.
I'm gonna jump in the shower real quick and get dressed, I've got a
surprise for you. I love you." And with that, Evan was out of the kitchen
headed to the bathroom, me still lying there on the kitchen table with my
feet in the air, savouring the remnants of that feeling of Evan being
inside of me again, at last.

Four hours later and Evan had not returned.  It was well past dark, and
certainly enough time for him to run to the store and get back.  I kept
looking at my watch, wondering where the hell he was.  I glanced outside
the front door, hoping to see his car pulling up.  As I was turning to go
to the telephone, I saw 2 police cars pulling up outside the house.  My
heart skipped a beat, skipped several more beats, as my mind was
racing...what the hell was going on?  Why were cops coming to my house?  I
was a law-abiding citizen, never so much as a speeding ticket.  My mind was
a blur of thoughts rushing through it.

Three officers came up to the door.  One was a Sergeant, I saw the stripes
on his sleeves.  He was accompanied by two other cops.  "This can't be
good," I said to myself.  I switched on the outside light, and went to the
door to meet them on the porch.

"Can I help you, officers?"

"Mr. Fox?" the Sergeant inquired.

"Yes, I'm Tom Fox", I said in reply.

"Mr. Fox, there's been a car accident.  A friend of yours, Evan Costas, was
involved.  We found your name and address in his wallet, and his car
registration listed this address.  When did you last see Mr. Costas?", the
Sergeant asked.

"He was just here at the house several hours ago...I dunno... I guess it
was around 5:45 or so.  He left the house to go to the store around 6:30,
may 6:45 or so.  Is there a problem?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"Mr. Fox, Mr. Costas was in a very serious car accident.  He ran a red
light at a very high speed and crashed into several cars going through the
intersection.  Three people were killed at the scene, others were taken to
the hospital.  Mr. Fox, Mr. Costas was also taken to the hospital with very
grave injuries.  The Paramedics and the Doctors did everything they
possibly could, but their efforts were futile, and Mr. Costas died," the
Sergeant said solemnly.

Tears welled up in my eyes, my head was spinning.  This can't be, THIS
CAN'T BE!  He was just here a few hours ago, he can't be gone.  My body
began to shake, my lips quivered, I could feel the blood draining from my
face, my knees got weak.  I sat down on the steps, my head in my hands,
sobbing uncontrollably.  I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder.

I could only understand bits and pieces of the questions the Sergeant was
asking me, things he was telling me....."Had Mr. Costas been drinking?
.....we found a number of empty beer cans in his car.....a copy of an AA
book under the seat.....his blood alcohol level was at .322....must have
been drinking for quite a while......are there any relatives that need to
be contacted?.....yours was the only name and address we found in his
wallet.....need to contact the morgue.....funeral arrangements.....chaplain
is available to assist you......."  no....noooo.......
NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

*****

That nightmare continued to haunt me.  I knew that Evan was an alcoholic, I
just had not admitted it to myself, had not confronted him about it.  I
kept telling myself that everything would be OK.  But everything was not
OK, and now Evan was gone.  And I kept punishing myself with the guilt of
knowing that I could have prevented his death, but hadn't.  "I love you"
were the last words I heard him say.  That was over 2 years ago.  There had
been no one else in my life since then.  Until now.

I lay there in bed beside Dan, thinking of Evan.  What am I doing here,
what am I doing with this guy?  I love Evan, I always will love him, no one
can take his place.  The tears welled up in my eyes again, tears that I
thought I had no more of.  The emotions flooded me, filled my body with
such a feeling of heaviness, of emptiness, of loneliness.  I began to cry,
a whimper at first, and then an uncontrollable sob, shaking my very being,
shaking the bed, this bed that I was sharing with this stranger.

Dan awoke and immediately rolled over to me, took me in his arms and
cradled me.  This incredibly powerful, incredibly handsome man was holding
me as I sobbed like a baby, gently rocked me back and forth and whispered
"I understand, I understand....shhhhhhhh.....shhhhhhh....let it
out......release the Demons".  And the more he spoke, the more I sobbed.
He gently stroked my face, kissed my cheek, whispered in my ear.  His lips
moved down to my lips, and with a softness that I'd not experienced, his
mouth embraced mine, our tongues gently meeting, exploring.  My mouth
opened wider, as if in invitation, and Dan pressed his mouth more firmly
against mine, are teeth touching, the passion rising once again...

It was morning, the sun had been peeking through the curtains, flooding the
motel room with its warmth and light.  Dan and I were still sitting on the
bed, rocking, he with his arms around me, cradling me like a child, me
still whimpering, the lingering thoughts of that nightmare, the Demons
still haunting me.  We'd been sitting like that for what seemed like hours,
I don't know how many.  I felt exhausted, the Dream had drained me of all
feeling, the crying had drained me of any further energy my body had
remaining.  Dan gently laid me back down on the bed, rolled me over onto my
stomach, and then climbed on top of me, sitting on my ass. his powerful
legs were stradling me, his semi-rigid cock pressed up against my crack,
his strong hands massaging my back, kneading my muscles, relaxing me,
releasing me.  I fell back to sleep with this incredible young man
continuing to massage me.


I awoke later, thinking that I'd slept the day away, when in reality it had
only been an hour or so.  I looked at the clock - 10:30.  Jeez, I didn't
want to waste the day.  The memories of that nightmare still lingered, but
were in the deep recesses of my mind.  It was time for the conscious mind
to take over, to force the demons to the hidden crevices of my
subconscious.  I looked around the room, there was no sign of Dan, I was
alone in the room.  I jumped out of bed, headed to the shower, determined
to make something of the remainder of the day.

"Good Morning, Mr. Fox", Dan said with a smile.  I'd gone to the front desk
of the Hot Springs in search of Dan, hoping to find him there.  I was
relieved that he was there.  He looked incredible, today wearing a khaki
shirt with the sleeves cut off, exposing those muscular arms, and a pair of
501 jeans.  God, how he filled out those 501's!

"Hi, Dan", I said somewhat sheepishly.  In a slightly lower tone of voice I
said "sorry to have woke you up like that.  This dream I have.... It keeps
haunting me.  I can't seem to make it go away."

"I know, Tom", Dan said in an equally hushed tone.  "You were tossing and
turning all night long, I was awake for a while, you were talking in your
sleep.  Evan must be very important to you.  The Demons that possess you
are very strong.  I may have a remedy.  Let me talk to Lone Eagle first.
He's in the caverns already. He was at my house this morning when I went
home, he stayed at my house last night, in order to partake of the healing
waters again today", and with that, Dan left the counter area and went into
the Hot Springs, into the caverns, in search of Lone Eagle.

Upon his return, Dan looked at me quizically.  "Are you up for a hike, my
friend?"

Not knowing what to expect, I said "Sure, why not?"


End of Part II.

Coments and suggestions to tfox2099@hotmail.com