Date: Sat, 23 Apr 2011 04:44:09 -0700 (PDT)
From: jim ford <sojourn1950@yahoo.com>
Subject: Gordy comes Home chapter 4

This story is fiction. The characters are adults in adult
situations. Warnings: The only person you can ever hope to truly know is
yourself. Trust no one; use condoms. If you are not of legal age or in a
jurisdiction in which this document is illegal, go way. This is my
story. Please respect the copyright.


John's father had to be in New York, over Thanksgiving. He asked that John
and Wylie join him in the city. John explained that Wylie couldn't afford
the fare. Without hesitation, Mr. Grant said he would pay any
expenses. John told him Wylie would most likely resent the offer. He would
view it as a reminder of what he didn't have. Mr. Grant understood.

John and his father had talked at least once a week, if not more
often. Every conversation had included some discussion of, or news about
Wylie. John had confided in his father concerning Wylie's limited funds as
well as his sensitivity, concerning the same. John didn't share
"everything" with his father.

They knew he was on a tight budget. He was desperate to keep his
scholarship. Mr. Grant suggested John call Conchatta and they spend the
four days at the ranch. John opted to remain at school over the holiday
weekend.

His father was only too well aware of Wylie Keyes. His financial state, his
familial situation, his educational performance (past and present) as well
as swimming abilities. He knew more about Wylie's background than, perhaps,
even Wylie.

He knew enough to form an opinion regarding Wylie's potential for future
success. Mr. Grant had, through various sources, learned enough to
encourage John in his new friendship. That was a step that John's father
did not take lightly. Mr. Grant didn't accept anyone, in his life or his
son's life, at face value.

Without ever having met him; he liked Wylie Keyes.

John searched until he found one of the few really good restaurants open on
Thanksgiving. At that, he was lucky there had been a cancellation. Since he
would have gladly flown Wylie to New York and shown him around, John wanted
to do something nice for Wylie.

Anyone else might have looked upon a candle lit dinner for two, in an
expensive restaurant, as a date.

As it was, even a simple dinner was a hard sell. John finally convinced him
that his father had specifically told John to take Wylie out to
dinner. "Dad feels bad that he can't be home for thanksgiving. This will be
the first holiday we spend apart. He knows I was planning to invite you to
the ranch. He'll be pissed if you refuse. This is his way of apologizing
for messing up our plans. If you refuse, it's like refusing his apology."
Wylie relented. John made a mental note to tell his father about this
"little white lie".

Tuesday after classes, John reminded Wylie that the restaurant required a
coat and tie. Wylie freaked a little, letting John know; that was not made
clear before he had agreed to go. Wylie tried to back out.

John held his ground. Finally he blurted out: "Dad wanted to fly us to New
York, I knew you wouldn't go. But you damn well are going out to dinner!
So, get used to it."

John's fist were clinched and his chest heaving.

Wylie was dazed. He tried to assimilate what he had just heard. John had
turned down a trip to New York, rather than leave him behind. Wylie felt
small.

His eyes fixed on the floor, Wylie confessed to having only an ill-fitting
suit. It had come from some thrift store. He had worn it to his
grandmother's funeral."

He had no clothes suitable for anything more sophisticated, than Burger
King.

John would have gladly taken Wylie shopping except he would probably have
to knock him out. Something he had been prepared to do, a moment before he
saw Wylie's embarrassment.

Then again, Wylie was as heavy as John. So, dragging his unconscious friend
through a shopping spree was not something he looked forward to. And
besides; the alterations would probably be less than satisfactory and
probably not be finished in time.

The only reason John toyed with the idea was the things he could do, with a
non-resistant Wylie, unimpeded by alcohol. Such is the stuff that makes us
dream.

An alternative was to have Wylie try on one of John's suits. After
considerable cajoling and several tense moments, Wylie again relented.
John spent an inordinate amount of time shifting, tugging, touching and
caressing the suit until if rested on Wylie's frame; just right.

As John's ministrations went on Wylie felt the crotch of the, well fitting,
suit become increasingly tighter.

Tying the tie had John pressed against Wylie's backside, both looking into
the mirror. John let his hardening cock move against Wylie's ass. Just
often enough: Any less was not a consideration; any more and he would cum
or assault Wylie; here and now. More than once he lost his concentration
and had to start over. Neither complained.

The end result, of all the fussing, left John wishing he had assaulted
Wylie. The man could have a career in modeling. He was a little jealous
that his suit looked better on Wylie.

Wylie's face held a smile that John had not seen before. It told of how
good Wylie thought he looked. That smile also showed gratitude. The air of
confidence that settled on Wylie was priceless. Looking at His expression,
John felt warm, really warm inside. That smile made it hard for John not to
kiss him tenderly and hold him close. God! It felt Good.

Once Wylie was again in casual clothes, they went for beer and pizza. Too
many beers, of course: Both were horny!

Once in the room they drank another beer. John was on his bed. Wylie, legs
folded in an almost yoga position, was on the floor. The only light was
from an old lava lamp that Wylie had. It's, wavering, soft, blue light gave
the room an ethereal quality.

John, clumsily, got up off the bed and staggered, mumbled, " I got go drain
the lizard."

Upon returning, still staggering, he grabbed two more beers and sat on the
floor, his back against his bed, facing Wylie.

Their drunken conversation, already inane, continued. John said something
that Wylie had not understood. He leaned toward Wylie to clarify his
point. His forehead came to rest lightly against Wylie's. In a spitting
slur he mumbled, "You're drunk".

Bona fides established!

He then reached into Wylie's boxers and extracted his already hard and
leaking cock. He knew that sometimes he got hard just watching Wylie. Did
Wylie do the same?

He looked at the slick liquid that coated his fingers. He leaned his head
away from Wylie and making eye contact, proceeded to lick his fingers
clean.

Wylie pulled John's head back to his for a deep kiss. His tongue searched
John's mouth for a taste of himself. When the kiss broke, John squeezed
Wylie's cock and collected more precum. This he offered to his, drunken,
best friend.

Wylie, holding John's gaze began to lick John's finger clean. John then
twisted his ass around. He tugged on Wylie's legs until Wylie
understood. Now they were face to face, Wylie's legs draped over John's and
around his backside. John's own legs mimicked Wylie's. Their cocks poked
each other bellies. Their lips met in another deep kiss. They stroked each
other's chest. Wylie, teased the curly hair on John's chest. While John
felt the stubbled remains of Wylie's tease his fingertips. They rubbed and
lightly pinched each other's nipples.

John reached down and took both cocks in his hand. His thumb and fingers
could not meet. He reached for Wylie's right hand and together they
stroked. Slow strokes; fast strokes each could build toward ecstasy and
calm down. Both understood the changing pressure of the other's hand. This
went on and on. Finally John pinched Wylie's nipple; Wylie moaned into
John's mouth and signaled an increase in their tempo. John understood and
together they jerked themselves into orgasmic delight. Cum shot from both
cocks, onto chins and necks and chests. Through it all there lips kept
contact.

Even after cumming, the kiss held. With considerable effort they were able
to lie down, alongside the bed, still holding the kiss. Neither had
completely lost their hardons. Finally, Tongues withdrew. John's head was
rested on Wylie's chest. Neither wanted to move and, thereby, let this
intimacy slip away.

It was hours later that John awoke, again, needing relief. Clad in boxers
and cum he sought the bathroom down the hall. When he returned, Wylie was
in bed. It flashed through John's mind that this would have been a perfect
day had Wylie been lying in John's bed, awaiting his return. A heavy sigh
was all that got in bed with John.

Wednesday already held the holiday spirit. People hurrying, calling our
goodbyes, and frantically trying to vacate campus. There were enough
acquaintances left on campus that a pick-up b-ball carried them late into
the afternoon.

John went, for the first time, with Wylie for a swim. After watching Wylie
in the water, John found his respect growing. Wylie, on the dive board, was
clockwork precision. The water seemed to absorb his form. The water and
Wylie melded, like two molten metals flowing into one-another. In swimming;
the water seemed to propel him, while Wylie effortlessly rode along. It was
to John; a thing of beauty.

John's diving was flagrantly lacking; compared to Wylie's. John viewed
water as an element to be dominated; like a novice climber views his first
real mountain. Wylie, on the other hand, greeted the water with unabashed
joy.

John perceived the difference.

Once John expressed admiration and envy, Wylie spent time working on
improving John's technique. John was further impressed with Wylie's
patience and willingness to teach. Wylie worked to improve John's
technique, while John worked to improve his attitude. Progress was made on
both fronts.

By the time both were water logged it was almost seven. They showered and
dressed and headed for, you guessed it, pizza and beer. They engaged two
other students in a darts match. It was close but John and Wylie wound up
buying beer for most of the evening. Wylie complained that they had been
hustled. John just had a good time.

Together they staggered back to the dorm. It would have been clear to
anyone, once they left the bar, they were "in their cups". Wylie entered
the room first. John closed and locked the door. Grabbing Wylie, he spun
him around and took his head in his hands and kissed him, with a hunger
that surprised, even him.  Wylie did not object. He began undressing John,
even as the kiss continued.

Breaking the kiss, each watched as the other hurriedly undressed. Strange
that moments ago both were staggering and yet now each could balance on one
foot while removing boots, socks and jeans.

Once naked, Wylie pushed John against the door. It was his turn to show
hunger; he devoured his lovers mouth.

John wrapped his arms around Wylie. Wylie found his hands pressed between
their chest. He rubbed his fingertips across John's nipples and was
encouraged as he felt John's body shudder and he swallowed John's
moan. With this he pushed away and with an evil grin, proceeded to lick,
suck and nibble John's nipples. John couldn't believe the sensations. His
nipples were wired to his cock. He moaned and for the first time ever,
during sex with Wylie, he spoke. "Ohhh Goddamn!"

At the sound; Wylie froze! John had broken a cardinal rule. The unwritten
contract (Consummation without Conversation) had been violated.

John waited.

Wylie raised his head, and roughly covered John's mouth. The message; John
was forgiven, but he had to shut up.

Had he asked for clarification he would learned that Wylie's kiss had
meant: "I don't care if you yell to the high heavens, John Grant! I love
you!"

John pushed Wylie away, just enough to get to his nipples. Wylie now
experienced the sensations, that had made John cry out. His reaction was
not vocal. Instead he started jacking his cock and moaning.

John wanted to hear words.

He had no time to register disappointment.

Wylie, with his free hand began stroking John's cock with fervor. John's
mouth connected to Wylie's nipple. Both approached orgasm by the grace of
Wylie's hands. John released Wylie's nipple. Wylie whined in
frustration. Releasing his own cock he took John's head and guided it
roughly back to the just vacated nipple.

John bit the nipple. Wylie uttered a choked moan and began to shoot. John,
without letting go of the nipple, pushed Wylie's hand away. Stroking like a
madman, John brought himself to climax before Wylie's final spurt. Wylie,
now spent, lifted John's head from his chest and kissed him as at the
start; deeply, passionately.

This was the first time they had sex while standing. Once the kiss was
broken, Wylie simple flicked the lights. Stumbling over the clothes
underfoot made his way to his bed and crashed, naked, face down and
slept. John picked up his clothes and Wylie's and draped them over
appropriate chairs. Then he too, fell face-down, onto his bed. Before happy
exhaustion sent him to Morpheus,

Before fading into oblivion; John silently swore to Wylie, he would never
talk during sex again.

Thursday and Thanksgiving: Both chatted about celebrated feastings from
their childhood. At John's insistence, the day began with a swim. Wylie was
more than a little pleased. He praised John's modest skills. John was in
turn pleased, but not fooled. He knew his shortcomings.

After a light lunch, they joined fellow students watching football, at the
student union. Afterward they took to their room to read followed by a
nap. Just after six, they showered. No, it wasn't needed but it gave both
the opportunity to view, in relative solitude, the others naked body. In
the light of day.

When the topic of dinner was raised John learned that Wylie had never
tasted lobster nor calamari. John hoped these would be available.  Valet
parking was a new experience for Wylie. Inside the restaurant, Wylie
managed to view the interior without gawking. The restraurant was lush and
comfortable. The staff were dressed, so Wylie thought, better than he and
John.

Their candlelit table was in an alcove. At first Wylie thought that
strange, then he noticed several other tables were situated for
privacy. These were all, tables for two. He relaxed.

Looking over the menu Wylie was about to order steak and fries. John made
some suggestions and Wylie accepted John's guidance as John had graciously
accepted his, in the pool.

Their waiter, Paulo, was solicitous and when he realized John and Wylie
were not interested in roast turkey. He was thrilled. Apparently his
expertise had gone unappreciated this evening. He then made suggestions
from soup to nuts with appropriate wine pairings. Paulo confessed it gave
him great pleasure to serve as sommelier, due to the reduced staffing.

He had focused his attention on John during the discussion and got really
close when pointing out entrees'.

Once he walked away Wylie asked, "Don't you think he was a little too
friendly? I don't like it when someone hovers over you..I, uh mean, hovers
over me. Are all waiters in this kind of place, that friendly?" This last
was asked with a look of distaste.

John reassured Wylie, "I think he is just bored, from serving turkey to
turkeys." John gave Wylie, what his father called a "shit eating
grin". (Note: a 'shit eating grin' is worn when one catches someone doing
something not quite right. It generally serves to heighten the
embarrassment of the one just caught.)

Wylie reddened and suddenly found his water glass to be very interesting.
John wondered; could Wylie's blue eyes turn green? John was a happy man.
When the waiter returned with food and wine, Wylie's smile returned
also. The evening was a resounding success. They went through every unusual
item on the menu, that sounded promising. Some lived up to the promise,
some didn't.

Before the meal was well under way, Wylie had himself been charmed by the
Paulo.

Wylie learned; he loved raw oysters, wasn't particularly fond of calamari,
he could live on lobster. Escargot, took more than a little convincing. He
told John it was ok. John noted Wylie ate only the one.

He promised himself and told John; he would learn more about 'good" wine.
Paulo had suggested five wines. John concurred, but when the fifth was
about to appear along with a plethora of dessert samples he balked. There
was still wine left from the previous course.

Paulo was disappointed but not deterred. When the sample size desserts
appeared, so did two glasses of wine. "Complements of the Chef", Paulo
explained that the Chef had been bored to tears, until John and Wylie
offered a "bit of a challenge".

Waiting for the jeep, John nudged Wylie, "I thought you didn't like guys
like Paulo, I think just before the dessert came he was hitting on you. I
thought you showed more than passing interest. Is there something you need
to tell me about you and Italian waiters."

The jeep arrived before Wylie could properly defend himself. He settled
with muttering, so only John could here, "Fuck you John."

If Wylie could read minds he would have heard John reply, "If only".

Visions flooded John's mind as blood flooded a lower hanging appendage. He
forced his brain to concentrate on other matters.

He smiled as he wondered what Wylie would say, had he seen the check. It
would not have paid for a flight to New York, but it would have taken them
both well beyond Texas borders. John enjoyed conjuring images of the
reactions, Wylie might have had.

Wylie finally broached the comfortable silence, "John, I would like to let
your father know, how much I enjoyed this evening. I know this makes me
sound like a hick; but, it really was one of the best nights of my
life. Not even sex, uh, with Miss Texas could make it better. It was
perfect."  Those sentiments were shared by John. He absently wondered if
Miss Texas had Wylie's blonde hair and blue eyes?

"Wylie, it might make me sound like a hick too; but, I had a great time. I
don't remember a better time, that didn't involve sex. I'll remember
tonight for a long time, to come. It couldn't have been any better; with or
without Miss Texas."

Even though each left the restaurant with a pleasant glow, neither
pretended to be drunk. Once in the room the atmosphere was subdued and
convivial. Long, comfortable silences were broken with almost
reverence. Each wanted to hold onto the level of intimacy; the food, wine
and companionship had created. Both went to bed without a beer, but with a
smile.

They both knew there would be other nights filled with sex, uh, beer,
filled with beer. The evening would be a cherished memory for both. Each
would recall years later; their first date. Each would proudly state, "I
didn't put out, on our first date."

Friday, Saturday and Sunday came and went. Each evening found both, more
than a little "drunk". Already the dorm buzzed with the idea that those two
were party animals. The buzz also marveled at the fact that those two were
outstanding students and that Wylie was a champion swimmer. How long could
they maintain their status and drink like fishes? Some jealously awaited
their, sure to be imminent; downfall.

Days flowed into weeks. John's swimming instruction continued. He would
train with Wylie, after classes. The pool area was never crowded and
occasionally they were alone. Showering after a lesson, was followed by;
food, study and partying. From the beginning, John rarely allowed Wylie to
fund the drinking. Wylie forced himself to acquiesce. After all; it was let
John pay or no sex. College is a horny time for any man. Wylie's libido won
out over his pride.

It was a week before holidays and studies had taken a priority over most
other activities. Well, of course not all. Seems the tolerance for alcohol
was lessoning instead of increasing.

John had mentioned several times that Wylie should join him and his Dad, at
the ranch. Wylie dismissed any serious discussion by muttering something
about visiting fiends in his neighborhood and getting a "temp" job. It was
only after John convinced him that life at the ranch was not "Lifestyles of
the Rich and Famous".

There would only be his Dad and Conchatta. She lived with her own family,
in her own house, on the ranch. She prepared meals and cleaned and
occasionally kicked John's ass, when he got out of line. Besides, she was a
great cook and made sure her "men in la hacienda" always had plenty to
eat. John's convincing argument was that there would be work on the ranch
for both of them and Wylie would be paid; in cash and more than he could
earn in a temp job.

"Ok, John. I'll go, just promise me you will quit your nagging. If this is
what it's like to have a nagging wife, no wonder, husbands die before their
wives."

John had not realized until then that underlying all his other stresses,
was the fear that what they had, might be lost. He was afraid of how Wylie
would react, when they came back from the long separation. John was even
more afraid of how he himself might react; given time away from his
physical attraction to this man.

He relaxed. The slight ache throughout his body let him know that he had
been carrying tension, of which he had been; unaware? That came as a small
shock to him. After all; he knew himself so well. Didn't he?

Wylie's surrender made him a contented man. That didn't stop him from
slamming Wylie with a pillow.

The scuffle that ensued found no real victor. Just two smiling, contented,
best friends.