Sometimes you’re out in a club, or you’re at the beach or on the street and you see a gay couple like the guys in today’s photo post. You look at them and say, “Those two are meant for each other.” (Okay, you also think, “I wonder if they’d let me watch while they have sex sometime.” But, of course, you’d never actually ask, would you?)
We’ll, I slept in far too late this morning, due to last night’s festivities. Five of us gathered to watch the NCAA basketball tournament: Florida v. BYU and Wisconsin v. Butler. The Gators won another nailbiter. Wisconsin lost. I brought a casserole of ham and scalloped potatoes that turned out to be delicious. (Don’t be afraid to try new recipies.) Everyone brought stuff to eat and drink and I’m afraid the party lasted far too late, but it sure was fun.
It’ll be a lazy day for me. I’ll write this morning, take a run with my boyfriend this afternoon. He’s working tonight, so I may take a relative out for dinner, at a nice seafood place here on the island. It’s another perfect day in west central Florida: sunny, warm and still. I’m sure the beaches will be packed with Spring Breakers and locals this weekend; the traffic will be awful, so I’ll visit the supermarket today and stock the fridge.
It’s time to post the last installment of my story, If You Only Knew. A few people have written me to say, “You posted a photo of a guy who looks like Stewart, the main character in the story. But what about Grady? Show us someone who looks like him.
Thanks to all of you who’ve written to say how much you’ve enjoyed reading If You Only Knew. I wrote the story in 2009, and it was one of those that seemed to write itself. I like Stewart so much. He’s an unabashed “skulker” and not afraid to admit he likes boys.
Okay, here’s the final installment:
* * * *
I grinned and shook my head before returning my gaze to the pool. One guy on a chaise drew my attention, a fellow with dark hair and a slim waist. His shoulders were broad, his biceps bulged, and I wondered if he might be a competition swimmer. His cock was uncut; it rolled between his thighs when he shifted his weight. An upturned nose made his face look almost pretty.
“Ingraham,” another boy called to him, “show us your back flip.”
He rose and stepped onto the pool’s diving board. Standing with his back to me and Grady, he extended his arms, raising them till they were level with his shoulders. His dimpled buttocks clenched a time or two, then he bent his knees and thrust himself skyward. The board jiggled and made a funny sound. (Boing!) Arching his back and neck, Ingraham’s face came into view, then the forefront of his body. He struck the water with a subtle splash.
While his friends cheered, Ingraham swam to the pool’s edge and hopped out. He seized a towel and commenced drying himself. His dive had rippled the pool’s surface and the underwater fixture cast slivers of light upon his flesh, making him look like a comic book hero in a striped, skin-tight outfit. My cock stiffened and I gulped, staring. He seemed utterly at ease with his nakedness, conversing with his friends while his cock wagged before him. Water glistened on his shoulders and rump, it drizzled down his flanks. He turned and bent at the waist to dry his legs and I studied a stripe of hair lining the cleft of his buttocks. I could see his ball sac dangling between his thighs.
Grady nudged my ribs. “I think you’re in love.”
In the shadows, I blushed like a schoolgirl. I whispered, “This is great. He’s so sexy, plus he has no idea we’re watching.”
Grady grinned at me like the Cheshire cat. He reached between my thighs and squeezed my boner. Sticking his tongue in my ear, he rolled it about. It felt warm and moist. In turn, I seized his erection, a thick tube jutting down the leg of his shorts. I had never touched another boy this way; I was still a virgin, save for the blow job Grady’d given me days before. My heart galloped in my chest.
Grady placed his free hand on the back of my neck, pulling me to him so our chests conjoined. Bringing his mouth to mine, he pried my lips open and his tongue entered me, probing and twirling, rasping against my tongue. His breath steamed against my upper lip. His fingers found the tab of my zipper and lowered it. Then he opened the button at my waist and my shorts plunged to my ankles. My cock bobbed before me.
I followed Grady’s lead, dropping his shorts. His cock sprang forth (it was larger than mine by a couple of inches), pointing skyward. Grady joined his cock with mine, enveloping both in his hand while we continued kissing. Our hips rubbed and our knees touched and I sighed with pleasure.
While I traded spit with Grady, Ingraham discussed his car (an Italian convertible) with another boy. Ingraham’s style of speaking — a syrupy drawl — charmed me. When his laughter erupted, it came from deep inside his throat.
Grady tore his mouth from mine. He whispered, “Let me suck your cock while you watch your boy.”
I smiled at Grady and nodded, my pulse accelerating.
Grady turned me so I faced the pool deck, then he sank to his knees upon the oak leaf carpet. Seizing the base of my cock, he slipped the head and shaft into his mouth (Ah-h-h). He tickled my ball sac, making me shiver. I rested my hands on top of his head, running them through his hair, teasing his ears while he commenced sucking and polishing the underside of my cock with his eager tongue. I moved my hips in unison with Grady’s actions, finding a rhythm, enjoying the slurpy sounds he produced with his lips.
My gaze fell upon Ingraham. I saw him in profile: his smooth chest and flat belly, his patch of pubic hair and uncut cock, his pert buttocks. Occasionally, while conversing with his friend, he’d reach down and scratch his testicles or pull at the foreskin of his dick, not caring if others saw him do so. My belly fluttered each time he did this and I thought, Oh, Ingraham, if you only knew.
I glanced down at Grady. His hand stroked his erection, flying like a piston while he sucked me off. His eyes were closed, his breath huffed, and beads of sweat appeared upon his forehead. I stroked his sooty eyebrows with a thumb. Even with his mouth stuffed he looked handsome, and I thought, Lucky me.
I looked back at Ingraham. He sat in a lawn chair now, facing me, knees spread wide, displaying his genitals, hands joined behind his neck so his armpits were exposed. He wasn’t talking any longer. Instead, he appeared to study the night sky, searching, perhaps, for a favorite constellation. His lips parted and light from the pool fixture reflected off his central incisors. He shifted his hips. His cock rolled against one thigh and he reached between his legs to adjust his nuts.
I envisioned him masturbating, working his foreskin back and forth. The picture in my head made my balls tingle and my heart race. My cock throbbed in Grady’s mouth. I grabbed the back of his head and pulled his face to me, burying his nose in my pubic hair. My hips thrust and I groaned, tossing creamy wads into Grady’s throat, four or five spurts. (Oh-h-h, yeah . . . .)
Grady made a whimpering sound while he swallowed my load. He kept his mouth wrapped about my cock, gazing up at me, continuing to pump his erection. I locked eyes with him and licked my lips while his breathing quickened. I combed his hair with my fingers. His chest heaved, then he moaned and his cock splattered my shins with a series of sticky gobs. They oozed through my leg hairs and slimed my ankles before pooling inside my bunched-up shorts.
I studied tree limbs above us, thinking, Jee-zus, this is nice.
We kept still a minute or two, my cock in Grady’s mouth, hands resting upon his shoulders. We listened to frat boy chatter, to more wisecracks and low-brow music, while our heartbeats slowed. Then, just before Grady released my cock, Ingraham turned his gaze from the sky. He shifted in his chair, looking into his lap and toying with his foreskin. Then he raised his chin and looked at me, his eyebrows arching, a smile on his lips. He gave me a conspiratory wink and I gasped in disbelief.
In the darkness I shook my head.
Grady, you minx.
* * * *
Okay, friends, that’s the entire story. I hope you liked the surprise ending. Just remember, there are probably as many exhibitionists as there are voyeurs. You never know who is which, do you?
Enjoy your Friday, everyone.