Date: Thu, 14 Jun 2007 15:18:02 -0700 (PDT)
From: rimpigfl <rimpigfl@yahoo.com>
Subject: PETE AND RE-PETE

The most exquisite pleasure is giving pleasure to others.

Pete and Re-Pete
by RimPig   2007

How long had it been since I'd seen him? Five, six years? Ever since his
marriage. He and the girl he'd met had come back home after that. They'd
stayed for a week. His parents had invited me to the house for a welcome
home party for them. He and I had talked for a couple of minutes, promising
that we'd get together before I left town to go back to college, but we
never did.

Now, here he was, coming through the door of Danny's, the same neighborhood
bar that his dad and my dad had drunk in as friends. That's how we became
friends first, the fact that our dads were. Neither one of us had brothers
or sisters but we didn't need them. We had each other.  We only lived a few
doors apart and it was like we lived at each other's houses growing up.

"Hey, Steve. How you doin'?" he asked, coming up to where I was sitting at
the bar.

"Okay, Pete. Pull up a barstool. How have you been. I heard from my mom
that you were back in town." I said, indicating the empty barstool next to
mine.

"Yeah. Decided I might as well come on home."

"So you're out of the Marines now?"

"Yeah. I put in ten years but I didn't want to go back to Iraq again so I
decided to get out."

"How many times were you there?"

"Twice, but one deployment was for almost two years."

"Uhh...my mom said you came back alone."

"Yeah. Cindy divorced me. That was part of it. Spending so much time apart
killed our marriage. Plus, I gotta admit, I've changed. The war changed
me."

"Well, yeah. You do seem different somehow."

"How about you? Haven't you changed some?"

"I guess I have some. You've been gone now, what? Ten years? Yeah. I've
been to college, got a good job, but some things haven't changed."

With this, I gave him an significant look which he, surprisingly, blushed
at and looked away. I guess maybe he understood it. The change that hadn't
taken place was one that I didn't expect to ever change - the fact that I
was in love with him.

When we were young, we were never known as Steve and Pete. We were known as
Pete and Re-Pete, acknowledging the fact that you never saw one of us
without the other and, since we looked enough alike to be brothers - both
of us tall with dark hair and blue eyes, we were almost like seeing double
images of the same kid.

Growing up the way we had, always together, only thirty-two days apart in
age, spending nights at one or the other's houses, sleeping in the same
bed, taking showers together, it was like we were brothers and, at first, I
thought that's all my feelings for him were, just the brotherly love of one
friend for another. But more than a friend. It wasn't until puberty hit and
the hormones began to rage in our young bodies, though, that I discovered
how much more than for a friend or even a brother those feelings were.

We, of course, discovered our changing bodies together. We noted each
other's growth of pubic hair and we gravely measured the length of each
other's erections, carefully noting down in a notebook the measurements in
a code we had, ourselves, devised. We were always within a quarter inch of
each other both in length and thickness. The only real difference was that
mine curved to the right while Pete's was straight as an arrow. I should
have taken that as a sign, but I didn't.

We discovered masturbation, taking great delight in practicing this
so-called solitary vice together until one night, when we were thirteen,
Pete reached over and pushed my hand off of my dick, replacing it with his
own. I can't even begin to tell you how wonderful it felt to have somebody
else's hand on my cock other than my own. But I soon discovered something
that felt even better - my hand on his cock. Pete had jacked on my cock for
about a minute and then, quite unceremoniously, grabbed my hand and put it
on his dick. I got the message. We were going to do each other at the same
time.

And for about six months that's what we did. Almost all the time. Two and
three times a day if we could manage it. But that soon wasn't enough for
us. We started to hear rumors from older guys at school about something
called a "blow-job". We weren't exactly sure what it was and there didn't
seem to be anybody to ask, that is, until one night our dads kept us at
home and wouldn't allow us to spend the night together, each of them saying
that they had something they wanted to talk to us about.

As you might guess, what it was that they wanted to talk to us about was -
"The Talk", that mutually embarrassing rite of passage for fathers and
sons. One good thing did come out of what seemed like hours of painful
questions and even more painful answers. Pete and I had both, somehow, come
up with the courage to ask what a blow-job was and, though I thought my dad
was going to have a heart attack, he got so red in the face when I asked,
he finally, stumblingly came up with an answer. An answer that I shared
with Pete the very next night, only to learn that he'd had asked the
question as well and had gotten a similar answer from his dad.

Armed with at least rudimentary information, we lay there that night, in my
bed, each of us trying to figure out how we were going to utilize
it. Finally it was Pete, always the natural leader in our explorations, who
suggested that we perhaps should try blow-jobs with each other the same way
that we did masturbation - mutually. While neither of us had ever heard of
sixty-nine, it didn't take us long to figure out a side-by-side
configuration where we could get our mouths to each other's cocks easily.

In our first, tentative efforts, we quickly learned that it was important
to protect your partner's cock from your teeth. We also learned that no
matter how eager you were, taking too much of the other guy's dick in your
mouth led to gagging which was neither helpful or sexy in any way. Of
course, by the time we'd shot our fourth load of the night down each
other's throat, we were like a well-oiled sex machine.

That was the limit of our sexual exploration together. We stopped at oral
sex because, though we eventually learned of anal sex, the possible pain
which no doubt had to be involved didn't interest us. I think there was
something else that killed the idea of "butt-fucking" for us and that was
that everything we'd done up to that point had been not only mutual but
simultaneous - something that was not possible with anal sex. At least we
didn't think so at the time.

I remember that I was turning sixteen when something began to become clear
to me. Pete had turned sixteen a few weeks before me and had gotten the
dream present of every sixteen year old male - a car. Not a new car, not
even a newer used car, but it was wheels and that's all that mattered. I
was hoping for a similar present on my birthday. When he got it, Pete
announced to me that we could now think about dating - as in dating
girls. I was frankly disconcerted at this.  Why in fuck would we want to
date girls? I had absolutely no interest in them but, evidently Pete did -
something that he'd never really talked about before. He explained to me
that we should both go and find girls to date and then we could
"double-date" in his car.

Now, to be honest, since we were both jocks - both of us on the football
team in high school - getting dates wouldn't be all that hard. There were
always plenty of girls who wanted to go out with jocks. I was just never
interested and I had no idea that Pete was. Down inside I was extremely
hurt by this. It was like Pete was saying I wasn't enough for him, where
his friendship had always been enough for me.

 It was then that I began to see that Pete and I saw our friendship
differently. Eventually I came to understand that to Pete, I was his "best
friend" but to me, Pete was a lot more than that. I don't know when it was
that I finally was able to, just to myself, finally put the words "love"
and "Pete" together but by the time our senior year came along, I knew that
I had a major problem. I was in love with my best friend and he didn't feel
the same way.

We did go out on a few "double-dates" but they weren't exactly what you
would call successful. Eventually, I just made up excuses of either why I
couldn't go or couldn't find a date.  I think Pete somehow understood
because he never pressured me and, after a time, just stopped asking me to
join him on his dates. Oftentimes, after he would drop his date home, he
would come over to my house and spend the rest of the night with me. He'd
come around the back of our one-storey house and tap on my bedroom
window. I'd open it and he'd climb in. Usually, we'd have sex - even if
he'd already had sex with his date that night.

As the time for graduation got closer and I was finalizing my choice to go
to the same state university where my dad had gone, Pete shocked me one
night with the announcement that he had other plans.

"I'm going to join the Marine Corps," he confided to me as we lay across my
bed shooting the shit with each other.

"You're what? Are you nuts?"

"No. I just feel like I ought to go and serve my country like my dad did."

"You're dad was a Marine? I never knew that."

"Yeah. He served in Viet Nam. He doesn't talk about it much, that's
probably why you never knew."

"But, God! The Marines? Why? We ain't at war."

"All the more reason to do it. I go in for a few years and when I get out,
I'll have money to go to any college I want to go to and all kinds of other
benefits. I've been talking to a recruiter and since I'll be turning
eighteen before school ends, I can sign up on my own. I don't need my
parents permission."

"You know that they're gonna shit when you tell them."

"Yeah. I figure it might take some getting used to for them."

That was an understatement. Pete waited until he'd already signed up to
tell them. They hit the ceiling and tried every way they knew to get him
out of the enlistment but, like the recruiter said, he was eighteen and
could make the decision on his own. Somewhere along the line, it must have
dawned on my parents that, since I'd always done everything that Pete did,
that I might be thinking of enlisting in the Marines. They both sat me down
and started lecturing me on the dangers of military service until I
adamantly assured them that I had no intentions of having anything to do
with a the military.

That last few weeks before Pete had to report to boot-camp sped by in a
blur. I know we spent almost every night together. For a while, when Pete
had this one steady girlfriend, we'd slacked way off on the sex between
us. It was nothing we talked about, it was just like Pete wasn't as horny
or as interested as I was. But she'd dropped Pete the minute she found out
he was going into the Marine Corps so for those last few weeks at least, it
was just like old times between us. The only problem was, I was really torn
up inside about him going away. As much as I wanted to, I just couldn't
bring myself to tell him how I felt about him. I remember how, on that last
morning, as his parents were pulling the car around to take him to the
recruiting depot, he took me in his arms and we hugged each other for the
one and only time I ever remember us doing that. I know I was fighting
tears and it seemed like Pete was, too, but if we did cry, we never let
each other see that.

Neither Pete nor I were what you'd call writers but we did manage to send
each other a couple of letters while he was in boot-camp. By the time he
got out, however, I'd left for college and the whirl of being a college
freshman and living away from home for the first time sort of ended our
correspondence.

I learned a lot in those four years. It didn't take me long to discover
that I was far from the only guy on campus who was attracted to other guys
- not girls. I also discovered that I was considered to be rather
attractive and had no lack of guys who wanted me to share their beds. I
lost my anal virginity to another jock on the college wrestling team who
also gave up his hole to me. I learned that anal sex could be quite mutual,
though not in the way that Pete and I had defined it.

One thing I couldn't seem to do, however, was feel anything other than
sexual attraction for the guys I played with. While guys around me were
falling in love and forming relationships, I was totally incapable of it. I
was still in love with Pete and, even though I knew that there was no
chance of having him as my lover, I just couldn't seem to get my heart to
get that message.

Then, in my senior year, came the letter from my mother, telling me that
Pete had met some girl who lived near the base where he was posted and he
had gotten married. If anything should have convinced me it was that. After
all, reading that part of my mom's letter I felt like I'd been kicked in
the guts by a mule. But even that didn't seem to phase me. I remember I
went home that weekend as Pete's parents had requested for the party for
Pete and his new bride. I had to admit, whatever else the Marine Corps did
in their training, it created incredible male bodies because Pete was more
muscular than I had ever seen him. However, I couldn't help noticing that
for someone who had just gotten married, Pete didn't look all that
joyful. In fact, he looked more haunted than happy. All during the party,
he kept glancing over at me like he was trying to tell me something but
whatever it was he was trying to communicate, it wasn't getting through.

We never got together that weekend like Pete said we would and I went back
to college determined to just forget him now that he was married. It kind
of reminded me of that old song by Natalie Cole that said, "though you're
someone in this world who I'll always choose to love, from now on, you're
only someone that I used to love." Unfortunately, I was lying to myself
thinking that I used to love Pete. I only wished that was true.

I graduated and, since I had a degree in finance, I was offered a job in
the same accounting firm my dad worked in. I moved home and found my own
apartment. It took a couple of years to get my CPA license but, when I did,
I decided to go out on my own. I could work from my apartment on the
internet and could basically set my own hours. It was not the kind of
career that my dad had wanted for me but, he understood that I had to do
things my own way. I think it also impressed him that in less than two
years I was now making twice what I was making working for the same firm he
was.

Because ours was a relatively small town, about once a month, I took a
weekend and went away. I didn't tell anybody but during those weekends I
went to major cities like New York and Chicago where there were large,
active gay communities and I continued to have the same kind of fleeting
sexual encounters I'd had in college. I thought that maybe, somehow, I'd
find somebody to fall in love with but it never happened. I knew that there
was no chance of Pete and I ever having anything together. Not even when my
mom told me that Pete and his wife had gotten divorced and that Pete was
leaving the Marine Corps and moving back to town.

Until that night, I'd managed not to run into him since he got back to
town. I guess I should have figured that he'd end up coming in Danny's
sometime. After all, from what my mom told me he was temporarily staying
with his folks. I had just bought a small house in the same neighborhood as
my parents but a couple blocks away. Nothing large. Just a little two
bedroom, two bath bungalow. Big enough for just me and, should it ever come
to that, big enough for someone else to share it with me.

"So, now that you're out of the Marines, what are you going to do?" I asked
him.

"Haven't really decided yet. I could go to college but I think I'm a little
too old for that now."

"You're only twenty-eight."

"Yeah, but I don't think I could stand being in a class of eighteen year
olds."

"What about community college then? Lot of adults go there - especially at
night."

"I thought about that. First of all, I need to find a job. I want to get
the hell out of my parents place as soon as I can."

"Crampin' your style, huh?"

"Not so much that, as I can't deal with the questions. They don't
understand what went wrong with Cindy and me. They keep thinkin' that there
was somethin' I could do to fix it - put us back together again. They just
can't understand that the marriage was a mistake from the beginning."

I had to admit, that was an interesting piece of information. I wasn't
exactly sure what it meant, however.

"You two didn't have any kids?" I asked.

"Nah. We'd talked about it but with me off on deployment so long and so
often, we decided to wait. I'm sure glad that we did. That would have
complicated things all to hell."

"Yeah, I guess it would have."

"You ever get married?"

I looked at Pete in surprise. I couldn't believe him asking that. Of
course, maybe he didn't really know. After all, I never told him that I was
gay. Never told him I was in love with him. I always thought he had figured
out the first one and I didn't want him knowing the second.

"Uhh...no, I never did."

"I kind of thought you hadn't." Pete said it in such a way that I got the
feeling he had figured out what my story was and was just confirming for
himself that he was right.

For the first time in my life, I suddenly felt uncomfortable with Pete. I
wasn't exactly sure where this conversation was headed and before it got
any more uncomfortable for me, I decided to leave. I picked up the glass
and downed what was left of my Scotch.

"Well, that's it for me tonight. It's about time I got home."

I then stood up to leave. However, Pete was having none of it.

"Don't go now, buddy. The evening's young yet."

"Nah. I've got clients I have to meet with tomorrow. I need to be going."

"Please don't go. I've been wanting to talk to you ever since I got back to
town."

He said this with such longing that it stopped me dead in my tracks.

"So why didn't you call?" I asked.

"I guess I was afraid to."

This answer took me completely by surprise.

"Afraid? Why the fuck would you be afraid to call me?"

"I was afraid that...well...after everything...you wouldn't want anything
to do with me."

"We were best friends. Why wouldn't I want to have anything to do with
you?"

This attitude on Pete's part was truly confusing me. I couldn't understand
why Pete thought that I'd want nothing to do with him. After all, I still
loved him. Of course, he didn't know that however, but I couldn't think of
any reason for him being afraid to call me either.

For a few moments, Pete said nothing. It was like he was trying to come up
with some kind of answer which would explain his feelings but he couldn't
seem to come up with one.

"Could...could we go someplace else and talk?" Pete finally said.

"We could go to my place."

"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

We left the bar and Pete followed me to my house. When we got there, I
fixed drinks for both of us. Since it was a chilly night, I lit a fire in
the fireplace and we sat on the couch in front of it enjoying the warmth.

"So, what should we talk about? Maybe you can tell me why you were afraid
to talk to me?"

Pete looked at me and then looked away, locking his eyes on the fire. I
decided that I'd just let him take his time in answering. It took a few
moments but finally he did. He got up and started pacing in front of the
fireplace as it all came pouring out of him.

"All I could think of, when I got mustered out of the Corps, was coming
home and finding you. There was so much I wanted to talk to you about but,
then I got here and I couldn't bring myself to call you. First, I didn't
know how to say the things I wanted to say and, second, I didn't know if
you'd even listen or just tell me to fuck off."

He stopped and leaned his arm against the mantle of the fireplace and then
rested his forehead against his arm, standing there quietly, his back to
me.

"You've been my friend all my life, why would I tell you to fuck off?"

Pete turned and looked at me with real anguish on his face.

"Because I went and got married without even a word to you. You didn't
deserve that.  What you couldn't know, though, was that the marriage was a
joke. I didn't want it. I only did it so that my fuckin' parents would
leave me alone and stop asking when I was gonna get married.  My so-called
wife didn't know exactly what the fuck was goin' on but she knew enough
that there was no real marriage because I wasn't there. That's why she
left. Got tired of being the only one in the marriage."

As he said this, Pete moved around and sat next of me on the couch again,
only this time closer.

"That happens in marriages sometimes," I said, "especially when guys are on
deployment for long periods of time."

"Yeah, well I volunteered for those deployments. I wasn't forced on them. I
wanted to be away from her. And maybe I wanted to be somewhere I could just
get fuckin' blown to hell and I wouldn't have to worry about none of this
crap no more. I'd die a hero and nobody would ever know the truth. That's
what got me mustered out finally. They did some psychological testing on
those of us they were sending back and they decided that I was too damned
unstable to go back one more time. Since I had so many fuckin' medals, they
let me have an honorable discharge rather than a medical one, but I should
probably be in a loony bin somewhere." With this, he turned his face away
from me so that I couldn't see what he was feeling but I could see the
shudder that went through him at the talk of dying a hero.

Pete's admission that he'd volunteered for the deployments and had hoped
that he would be killed during them shocked me.

"I don't have any idea what pain you're trying to eliminate but nothing is
worth killing yourself over."

"Yeah it is...especially when you finally figure out that you've lost the
only thing you ever really wanted in your life and you don't know how to
get it back."

Pete's head dropped and it was like he drew completely into himself. I, on
the other hand, could feel my walls go up to protect myself emotionally as
I interpreted this to mean that he wanted his wife back.

"Are you sure? Maybe you could get Cindy back somehow. Maybe your parents
are right?" I said stiffly.

Pete turned and looked at me, a look of confusion and consternation on his
face. He then stunned me by breaking out in almost hysterical laughter.

"Cindy? You think I want Cindy back? Oh, fuck! Are you way off base!" he
exclaimed.

"Then who or what did you fucking lose?" I practically screamed at him, my
voice clearly showing my anger and exasperation.

"YOU, FUCKHEAD! I LOST YOU!" he shouted at me.

That brought all conversation to a screeching halt as we sat there, just
staring at each other and breathing hard as our emotions got back under
control.

After a long while, I finally said to him quietly, "You never lost me. I'm
still your friend."

"I got no right to ask you to be my friend." Pete said sadly.

"Why not?"

"Because I ain't been your friend. I did shitty things to you. I used
you. I let you take care of me, I let you love me and I never gave nothin'
back. I was a fuckin' selfish coward who thought I could have it both
ways. I could live a straight life and never have to admit that I wasn't
straight. I could be a 'man', I could be Mister Macho and still have a fake
marriage that would make everyone think what a stud I was while I played
around on the side. But it didn't work. It didn't fuckin' work. All I did
was end up hurting everybody."

With this, Pete's face crumbled and tears began to pour out of his
eyes. Without even thinking, I reached out and took him in my arms and held
him while sobs wracked his body. I held him a long time, letting him cry
out what evidently was a lot of pain - years and years of pain - until
finally he lay quiet and exhausted against my chest. I thought for a moment
that he might have even gone to sleep until he finally moved, struggling to
sit up. I let go, letting him move out of my arms. He sat up once more, his
head turned away from me. I knew he was feeling shame at breaking down that
way in front of me.

"It seems to me," I said calmly to him, " that the person you seem to have
hurt the worst is yourself."

"Maybe you're right but if that's true then that's the way it should
be. After all, I'm the one who's been the stupid, lying shithead all my
life. I'm the one that couldn't admit to myself who and what I was. I'm the
one that couldn't bring myself to love you even though it was tearing me
apart inside. That's what the fuckin' dating was all about. I kept trying
to turn myself straight. I kept tryin' to find a way to stop loving you and
fall in love with some girl."

"Just like I've tried to fall in love with another guy - any guy - ever
since you left for the Marine Corps and was never able to."

Pete then turned and looked at me, shock written all over his face.

"Are you saying that you're still in love with me? Even after all this
time, even after all I've done?"

"Even after all this time, even after all you've done. Though to be honest
with you, what I see that you've done is to try and figure out a way to be
who you are with the least amount of pain. That's pretty human, if you ask
me."

"But I hurt other people doing it, especially you."

"That's pretty typically human as well. But you've grown and changed and
you understand what you've done. You wouldn't be in so much pain if you
hadn't. Now, what's important, is what you want to do about all of this."

"What I really want isn't possible." Pete said quietly.

"What's that?"

"To go back to when we were kids and let me tell you the truth about how
much I loved you."

"Well...I never told you."

"But I knew. You never hid it. I could tell how much you loved me."

"I thought I hid it."

Pete laughed gently and then said, "No, babe, you never did."

I looked at him in shock at the use of the term of endearment. He smiled
shyly.

"I'm sorry. It's how I talk to you in my dreams," Pete said.

I blushed. "I don't mind. I just was surprised is all."

With this Pete slid over, even closer to me on the couch. His arm came
around me and he pulled me to him. I looked into his eyes and I saw
something I never thought I would see there - love and desire for me.

"If you don't mind me callin' you 'babe', then I bet you won't mind this
either." And with this, Pete's mouth captured mine in a deep, passionate
kiss.

So many nights, from the time I was a teenager, I had dreamed of Pete
kissing me like this, never once having any hope that it would ever
happen. The feel, the taste of him was so much more than I had dreamed
about though. The kiss lengthened and deepened and then I felt Pete's arms
surrounding me as my arms slipped up and wrapped themselves around his
neck.

I don't know how long the kiss lasted but when it was over, I was staring
breathlessly into Pete's eyes as he looked into mine.

"Before this goes any further, I want to do what I should have done a long,
long time ago," Pete said. "I love you. I love you more than anything or
anybody. I love you more than life itself. I don't know exactly how you
feel but the only thing that I want is for you to be mine for the rest of
our lives. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Yes, I can more than handle that," I said breathlessly as I smiled at him.

"I don't know how we're going to work this out, though."

"That's very simple. I bought this house with the intention of sharing it
with someone. I always wanted that someone to be you but I never had any
hopes of that happening. As far as I'm concerned, you've finally come home
to where you belong."

"But I don't have any money. I don't have a job. I don't have an
education. I don't have nothin'," Pete protested.

"So what does that have to do with anything? If you had a million dollars,
I wouldn't marry you for your money. I want you here because I love you -
no other reason. All that other shit will work itself out. Now, let's go to
bed. It's late and we need to get your stuff moved in tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" Pete asked pointedly.

"Let's see...you told me you love me and you want me to be yours for the
rest of our lives. I've been waiting to hear that all my life. Sure? Oh,
yeah! I'm fuckin' sure!"

And with this, I threw my arms once more around his neck and kissed him
hard and quick on his mouth.

Pete laughed and then did something which truly shocked me. He grabbed me,
slipped his one arm under my legs and the other around my back and picked
me up off the couch in his arms!

"Fuck! Marines are strong!" I exclaimed.

Pete just grinned. "Which way to the bedroom?"

I pointed down the hall and told him to go to the door all the way at the
end. He strutted down the hall with me in his arms and then kicked open the
door to the master bedroom, striding over and laying me gently on the bed.

As I lay there, looking up at him, he quickly stripped off his clothing. I
suppose I should have been doing the same but I couldn't move. I was
transfixed by what I was seeing. I had seen Pete's naked body thousands of
times as we were growing up together but never had I seen the amount of
pure muscle mass that he sported now. Indeed, Pete's body had completely
changed.  The Marine Corps had taken a boy and turned him into a man.

When he was naked, Pete looked down at me quizzically as I lay there still
fully dressed and staring at him.

"God! You are so incredibly beautiful!"

The words escaped my lips without my even being aware of them until they
were out. Pete blushed but I could see the pride in his eyes as well. He
didn't say anything, however, just reached over and began to undress
me. With my limited help, he quickly had me divested of all my clothes and
then climbed into bed on top of me, covering me with his naked, muscular
body and looking down into my eyes.

"I have dreamed of having you, just like this, so many nights I couldn't
tell you how many," Pete said.

I smiled up at him. For some reason, I didn't want to admit to him how
often I had dreamed of having him, just like this. However, I'd never
dreamed of the hard, muscular body that rested against mine, making me feel
so protected and so loved.

"So what now?" I asked. "What else did you fantasize about?"

"I dreamed about making love to you but I don't know if you've ever done
that?"

"I'm sorry to tell you, I'm no longer a virgin - if that's what you're
asking."

"Yes, that's what I'm asking and I'm not the least bit sorry that you're
already experienced because it's that's much less time we have to spend on
gettin' you ready."

He was grinning down at me as he said this with a feral glint in his eyes
which quickly informed me that I was not leaving this bed until he'd fucked
me. Not that this bothered me in the least as I was more than eager to feel
him inside me and, more importantly, feel us joined as one.

"There's really just one thing I want to know," Pete growled as he leaned
down, nuzzling my neck with his tongue and teeth.

"What's that?" I groaned.

"Where the fuck to you keep the lube?"

I stuck my arm out, pointing to one of the bedside tables. Pete moved over
just long enough to open the draw and grab the plastic squeeze bottle of
clear liquid before returning to his place on top of me.

"Wrap your legs around my waist," he said.

It was not a request as much as a command. I guess ten years in the Marine
Corps does instill a certain amount of command presence because, without
thinking, I quickly obeyed wrapping my legs around him. He took the lube
and I soon felt him anointing the opening to my body and slowly sliding one
of his thick fingers up inside me.

"Fuck! You are hot and tight up there," he said as I groaned at the feel of
him inside me.  "It's been so long since I fucked a guy, I forgot how hot
and tight is was."

"It's been quite a while since anybody fucked me."

"Uhh...do I need a condom?"

"Not unless you want one. I've never been fucked without one in my life."

"Well since I ain't never fucked anyone without one, including my wife, and
ain't nobody but me is ever gonna fuck you again, I guess we don't need
one."

"What do you mean, nobody but you is ever going to fuck me again?" I asked
looking him hard in the eyes.

"Just what I said. When I told you I wanted you to be mine, I meant mine
alone. Nobody but me ever touches you again."

"And what about you?"

"What about me? You think there could ever be anybody else that I could
want instead of you? You think you're the only one who's been in love all
your life? Ain't nobody in this whole world I want but you. As long as I
have you ain't nobody else in this whole world that could even get my dick
hard."

This he said looking down at me - a huge, wolfish grin on his face. For my
part, I reached down between us and felt how hard his cock was only to
discover that it was rock hard and throbbing.

"See what you do to me?" he asked and I grinned back proudly at what I had
caused.

He reached down and added more lube to my hole and then I could hear him
lubing his cock. Soon after, the blunt head of his hard dick was pressing
against my anal opening. I pressed down with my muscles as he pressed
forward and his thick cock began the slow penetration of my inner
recesses. I groaned at the spreading of my opening all the while loving the
feeling of strength and fullness of his cock as it slowly slid deep inside
me. He didn't stop until he was buried all the way and then stopped to look
down and assess how I was doing.

"You okay, babe?"

"Yeah. Just stay there and let me get used to it a minute. God! You are
bigger and thicker than I remember."

Pete chuckled at this.

"Well, since we never fucked, I don't much see how you could remember how
big or thick I was."

"I sucked on it enough to have some idea."

"That's true but suckin' and fuckin' are not the same thing at all."

"No, you're right about that. Especially like this."

"Like what?" Pete asked.

"With no condom. I feel you so directly. Not like anyone before."

"Same here. I've never known how hot and wet it was inside a guy
before. I'm just so fuckin' glad it's you that I'm finally getting to know
it with."

And with this, Pete leaned down and kissed me passionately. As the kiss
deepened he began to slowly withdraw his cock from my hole. Just a few
inches, only to slowly push back in again. This pace he kept up for a while
until I finally couldn't take anymore and began crying out for him to fuck
me harder and faster.

Pete had no difficulty in answering my pleas, swiftly ramming his cock in
and out of my ass at jackhammer speeds until we both reached our climax
seconds apart from each other, groaning out our ecstacy into each other's
mouths as we kissed and screamed at the same time his cum was shooting deep
inside me while mine was painting both our stomachs and groins.

Within moments, Pete collapsed on top of me, exhausted from the monumental
efforts he had put into bringing us both to climax. I held him in my arms,
smelling his scent, the scent I remembered from my childhood that I had
always loved but never could admit to loving. It was somewhat different now
- stronger and more mature - since he had become a man but still
recognizable as the scent that I had smelled in my bed or his all our
lives. I guess, however, my snorting his scent got a little loud and
carried away because eventually, I heard Pete's voice, tired and somewhat
gravelly.

"What are you doing? Smelling me?"

I immediately stopped and held my breath, totally at a loss for how I was
going to explain this to him. He rose up and looked down at my face as I
blushed in embarrassment.

"You are, aren't you! You're smelling my sweat and my scent. Do you like
it?"

I knew I was busted and the only thing to do was tell him the truth.

"Ever since we were little boys, I've loved your scent because it was a
part of you and was something that made me feel really close to you."

He smiled gently at me.

"Maybe that's why I've always loved yours."

I looked at him in surprise but he just leaned down and began kissing and
licking my neck.  His cock softened and withdrew from my hole. He moved
over until he was laying on his side next to me and then put his arms
around me, pulling me close to him with my back to him. It was like this,
two of us spooned to each other, that we fell deeply asleep.

We moved his stuff from his parents house the next day. Pete explained to
me that "Marines travel light" when I saw how little he actually had,
mostly just clothes and a footlocker with all his military memorabilia. His
parents and mine didn't really need an explanation of the two of us living
together. To them it was just like when we were boys growing up. However,
after a year or so, they completely stopped asking if either of us was
dating anyone or if we were going to get married. I don't think either of
our parents want an answer to those questions anymore.

As for Pete and me, we don't need and answer because we know that Pete and
Re-Pete have found their place together for the rest of our lives.

The End

If you liked the story, please write me at rimpigfl@yahoo.com

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