Chapter 4
It was good sex, but it wasn't the same as it had once been, and that, Blane supposed, was only as it should be. He and Tad were, after all, now different than when they'd first met as two college frosh and launched a whirlwind of sex and mutual discovery. Blane had been the high-school jock who had gotten to college on a track and field scholarship, and Tad had been the rich man's son who had balked at his father's plans for Harvard and opted instead for the state university. Looking back, Blane suspected their relationship had begun on pretty flimsy footing. Blane had been out to prove that even if he came from the slums, he could still make it with somebody like Tad Thaner. Tad had thought it would really be a bit of a lark if his old man ever found out he was carrying on a torrid homosexual romance with a kid so evidently from the other side of the tracks. That their relationship had blossomed into something deeper had actually surprised them both. They'd had many long discussions that went on deep into the night as they tried, like most college kids, to come up with the answers to life and the universe, and, like those who had come before them, they'd solved no great problems, answered no mysteries. But they had gotten uproariously drunk on more than one happy occasion and had had a lot of good times. After graduation, they had both made solemn pledges to keep in touch, but they had gone from regular correspondence to merely exchanging Christmas cards in less than three years. Blane had gotten the wedding announcement eight months before and had been a little too short on cash at the time to send a gift. He wouldn't have gone to the wedding or reception under most circumstances anyway. He didn't know Miss Jocelyn Potter-Sykes, but he knew he wouldn't like her. He had sent a note of congratulations instead.
When he'd opened the door, he hadn't immediately recognized Tad. It wasn't that Tad looked any older, it was just that Tad had been the last person in the world he'd expected to see. Blane had thought it was Jamie knocking, even though Jamie had already stated earlier that he wouldn't be by. Still, Blane had hoped Jamie had somehow gotten away, since very few people showed up at the recreation center after it was closed.
"I know you were probably expecting some handsome young stud," Tad said, smiling, "but at least try to act a little pleased."
"Tad?" Blane asked, his vocal recognition actually preceding his conscious one. "Christ, it can't be!"
"Well, close your Goddamned mouth and invite me in," Tad said. "I was afraid I was going to get mugged before you even opened the door. The fucking cabby didn't bother waiting, even after I'd given him a tip tat was too damned big. You'd have thought I'd asked him to take me to the moon instead of just across town."
"Can in this neighborhood get ripped off while in motion," Blane said. "You're lucky you got him past Jackson Street at this time of the night."
"Doesn't it scare you, living in an area that the police are afraid to patrol even in the day?" Tad asked, walking past Blane and into the hallway beyond.
Blane locked the door, turning to face Tad. It finally began to sink in that it was really Tad Thaner standing there.
"By God, Tad, it's good to see you," Blane said, extending a hand for the first time and giving Tad's fingers a firm squeeze. "Did you bring the little woman?"
"The little woman isn't very little," Tad said, frowning. "She's pregnant and looks like a two-ton truck."
"Tad Thaner -- husband and father," Blane commented. "Who would have guessed?"
"Not me," Tad said. "But let's not ruin an evening by talking about Jocelyn and her fat belly. I thought I'd get away from all of that for at least one evening."
"What brings you both to our fair city?"
"You," Tad answered. "What else but thoughts of seeing you again could pull me into a neighborhood like this after the sun went down?"
That from the doorway to the bedroom was a comparatively small step to take didn't surprise either of them. The cooling of their romance hadn't occurred because they had grown physically tired of each other. God, no. Actually, it had been because the two had a physical relationship that had been a bit too perfect, a bit too exquisite, a bit too passionate. They'd both, quite frankly, been frightened off by the very intensity of it. Neither had really been mature enough at the time to attempt making something lasting out of it. By mutual agreement, they had forced themselves to let things cool. Now that there were oceans and oceans of water under the bridge and each knew there was now remaining very little chance of something permanent springing up between them, the two were eager to get back into bed together. They actually wanted to see how sex now would compare to sex then, see if they'd been right in all the ecstasy they remembered, or if they'd been merely exaggerating to themselves all that had happened back in those good old days.
Tad had brown hair, cut short but not military. He had large gray eyes that had lost but little of their twinkle. He had a Roman nose that wasn't so large as to dominate his face. Rather, it blended into the rest of his features the dimpled left cheek, the deeply clefted square chin, the sensuously wet lips to make a decidedly masculine composite. When Tad stripped off his clothes, he was heavier than Blane remembered, but the excess weight seemed to sit well on him, and there was still no way Tad, even these years later, could have been called fat. His firm physique had acquired, after four years of college gymnastics and swimming, a well-sculptured form that Tad had followed up later with much pampering at the club. His chest was well-muscled, absent of most body hair except for a few strands that haloed each nipple and a line of hair that ran along the cleavage of the domes and down to the belly button. There was a fanning of silky brown hair over his lower belly, a concentration of similar strands grouped about the base of his swollen cock.
The state of Tad's cock, its turgid hardness, certainly gave the impression that his marriage had done little to turn him off to the prospects of gay sex. His cock, a thick and lengthy one, rose upward from bull-like balls, containing so much bulk it actually couldn't achieve a rise that made it parallel to Tad's belly. The cock, instead, jutted upward at a forty-five-degree angle. He had a thick anchorage amid the nesting of crotch hair, that thickness being maintained the total length of its shaft. The cock began its taper only after the flaring of the knob. The head of the cock was almost halved by a deep cum-slit that was glossed with leaking juices. The circumcision scar was a wide band of tissue encircling the neck of the cock just before the mushrooming of the tip.
When the two kissed, their hard-nippled chests met, their stiff cocks aligning side-by-side between their mated bellies. Their lips were firm and warm, their tongues battling in spit-warm mouths. It was a good kiss, one that held up favorably in comparison to those which were past and well-remembered.
In the bed, they moved easily to a sixty-nine position, each eager to renew an acquaintance with a familiar prick. Cocks seldom changed physically after reaching puberty, and neither man was disappointed in what he found nestled between the other's muscular thighs.
Tad was on his back, his face looking upward at the dick Blane's splayed thighs were offering him. Down between his own legs was a cock that was even then being savored by Blane who looked down on it.
Blane watched the movement of the flesh about Tad's nuts, and he got suddenly hungry for the fat prick that was ready and available for his licking. Diane bowed his face into Tad's nuts, licking over them and up to the broad belly of the cock whose back was now laid out on Tad's stomach.
Beneath Blane's hairy belly, Tad reached a hand upward and began massaging Blane's balls. The sac and its nuts hung so low they almost pooled over Tad's face. However, as Tad's fingers continued to fondle the gonads, the bag that housed the balls began to contract noticeably, elevating upward toward the thick root of the erected rod. With his other hand, Tad reached upward for the cock, feeling its stiffness protesting as he yanked the head downward toward his mouth. The segment of Blane's lower belly into which the base of the cock was seemingly affixed became ballooned outward as Blane's cock was moved into the more convenient position for Tad's sucking. Tad had visions of the thick cock popping free from Blane's belly even if he knew it never would.
By yanking down Blane's dick, Tad found that the knob almost touched his lips without his even having to lift his face up to claim it. The man reached for a pillow on the bed beside him and propped it beneath his head. Given the additional elevation, Tad was now able to open his mouth and take a good two inches of Blane's hard cock with little bother. Almost as soon as his lips closed around the pulpy knob, Blane's cock rewarded Tad with a gushing of tasty pre-cum.
Blane in the meantime, hadn't left off servicing Tad's prick. Blane's tongue had licked slowly up the belly of the cock and had centered its lapping momentarily on the prickhead. He, too, was tasting pre-cum, the flavor of which made him only hunger for the richer, creamier cum that was nestled in Tad's fat balls.
Blane placed his chin firmly into Tad's belly, pressing with difficulty into the solid scalloping of the muscle until his mouth was able to align with the drooling cum-slit. Blane kissed that deep hole, and then opened his mouth to completely swallow the whole knob. He scooted his chin forward, working his face deeper into Tad's groin, siphoning up more and more of his cock.
Surprisingly enough, despite the years which had passed since he had sucked off Tad, Blane was finding that the stiff cock he was now taking was still somehow familiar to him. It seemed to fit easily into his mouth, as if he'd long ago adjusted to the entering bulk and hadn't forgotten. The head of the cock pushed directly into Blane's throat, and the man edged even closer to Tad's balls.
Tad put both hands on Blane's hips, using his possum like hold for support as he lifted his face upward over Blane's down jutting dick. Tad's gumming lips pressed tightly into the neck of the cock, pushing the loose outer layer of flesh up toward Blane's lower belly. He continued to lift, gagging only slightly, and then silently, as the head of the cock clogged into his throat and slipped even deeper into the compressing dampness.
Tad enjoyed the taste of Blane's cock on his tongue. As he'd remembered, it was an exciting piece of meat, and Tad enjoyed eating it. Jesus, how could he have been such an asshole as to let this escape him? This, after all, was what he really needed, what really turned him on. His wife certainly had never done anything for him, nor had that vacuous hole between her legs. How could Tad ever get sufficiently turned on to a pair of thighs parted only by a gash when he'd been so used to a sprouting of cock like this one he was now sucking? He'd been a tool to allow himself to be sucked into thinking he could play straight, adapt completely to the heterosexual world. Oh, he'd fucked Jocelyn, played at being a straight stud. He'd even gotten her pregnant, which had made Tad's father happy. But Tad still hungered for cock, and he could hate himself for tying himself down with first a wife and now a child. Christ, why couldn't life have been one big a fuck, suck, and screw as it had during those four years of college with Blane? Why had all of those good times ended? Or had they actually been as good as Tad now remembered them?
Whether or not the passage of time had made the past seem far rosier than it had actually been, Tad did know for certain that there was one thing his memory hadn't exaggerated, and that was the lusciousness of Blane's cock. The thick prick, now almost lost up Tad's mouth, still held its old fascination, could still make Tad hot and horny just with the taste of it.
Tad pulled his face that last fraction of an inch over Blane's rod, his nose pressing Blane's balls and his chin in the black crotch hair of his lover's lower belly, just as Blane's mouth had reached the bottom of Tad's cock, his nose into Tad's balls, his chin still pressing the muscles of Tad's belly.
The two were in harmony. The two were one. They were once again united, cock-to-mouth and mouth-to-cock, as they had been so many times in the past. It was an exhilarating experience to remember old passions and experience their resurrections.
Tad let his head begin its fall back down toward the bed. He let his lips drag halfway down the neck of Blane's cock, then pushed back up to the man's balls. He dropped again, this time a little farther than before, quickly reversing to gum toward the root of the cock.
Blane worked his hands beneath Tad's ass, his fingers sliding into the crease formed by the two muscular buns. He probed for the pucker with his fingertips as his head simultaneously rode back up the wrist-sized shaft of Tad's dick. He located the opening of the ass when his face was once again plowing deep over the hard-on. He poked for entrance when his throat was clogged with all of Blane's cock. The bung protested the entrance of an unlubricated finger, but Blane persisted and was aided by a wiggling of Tad's butt that worked the asshole over the finger even as the finger was working up the asshole.
Again Tad's face rode upward between Blane's thighs, his mouth even more anxious for cock now that his butt was plugged with Blane's finger. His eyes were open, watching his progress. Looking cross-eyed at the neck of the cock his mouth was claiming, Tad could hardly believe that the throbbing mass actually fit so securely in his throat. Tad sucked to verify to himself the easiness of the fit. His pursed lips reached the root of the cock, giving it another good gumming. His tongue whipped the spit-wetted dick, washing all of its buried inches with even more swirling saliva. His mouth was stretched so much that he doubted he could have gotten his jaws to yawn any wider than they already were.
Tad's cock got only stiffer as Blane sucked back up the stem. Blane's mouth glided up to the pulpy knob, paused, dived, paused, slipped again up the thick shaft of the cock. He moved quickly into an easy bouncing cadence, timing his sucking to coincide with those of Tad's, the latter being slower because of his more awkward position.
Blane sucked on the pulsating prick, his finger twisting up Tad's bung. With each suck, he was acutely aware of Tad's rubbery lips at work on his prong. Time certainly hadn't paled Blane's ability to enjoy with Tad, had it? They'd been good before, and they were good now. Blane tried consciously to keep relaxed, wanting the first sex of their reunion to last. At the same time, he found relaxation virtually impossible. Tad's swinging on his cock was making him go all mushy inside. That mushiness would soon convert to a tautening of muscles. Blane knew ecstasy would soon follow after that.
Tad had the shaft of cock sucked right up to the fat balls, his tongue continuing to lash the bulky mass. He tasted more salt on his tongue, considered it only the hors d'oeuvre before the main course to follow.
Both men were pros at giving head. In college, they had sucked off each other enough times alone to remove them from any amateur standings. As it happened, they'd both had enough experience even before college that their first sexual union with each other hadn't been that of two fumbling novices. After college, after they'd both gone their own ways, neither had remained celibate. Blane had temporarily resumed his affair with Greg Bravo and later with Greg's brother. Tad had gone on the prowl for a man even before the cum on his honeymoon sheets had gotten dry enough to flake.
As the suck progressed, each man renewing his acquaintance with a cock he'd once known as well as his own, each was able to utilize more and more of his expertise to swell those pleasures already running rife through his partner's body. Tongues whipped cocks, lips gummed, cheeks massaged, throats vacuumed with skill. Each man teased the other closer and closer to climax, at the same time trying to judge how his own nearness to orgasm corresponded with the nearness of his companion. They both worked for a simultaneous eruption, confident they could pull it off.
Blane dragged his taut ups over the cock, suctioning loose outer skin around the blood glutted inner core. Over and back, over and back, his hungry mouth masturbating the spit drenched dick. He corkscrewed his head over the cock, his finger twisting up Tad's asshole.
"It was still good, wasn't it?" Tad said. It wasn't a question but a statement. Blane didn't answer. It had been good, and both men knew it.
"Do you ever wonder how it would have been if we'd only tried a little harder?" Tad asked finally. "The two of us were really so scared about all of this, weren't we?"
"No use mulling over what could have been, is there?" Blane asked. Yes, he'd thought of how it might have been, but things never worked out. Blane seemed to have fairly bad luck with the people he cared for. There'd been Greg who, despite his ability to give himself partially to Blane, was really too traumatized still by his early gang rape to ever form a permanent gay relationship with anyone. There'd been Tad who'd been too immature at one time and who was now married with the added complications of a child on the way. And Jamie? What of Jamie? The kid was so young, but he wasn't so young that he didn't know how to please another man in bed. Jamie was special to Blane, but Blane couldn't help looking on the kid more as his younger brother than a lover. That came from having been so close to Greg when Jamie was struggling through puberty and early adolescence.
"So, shall I tell you what brings me here?" Tad asked, realizing Blane was right. You couldn't live in the past. Tad had made his bed and had to lie in it. That thought was somehow amusing, and Tad couldn't help smiling to himself because of it.
"I already asked, and you told me you'd come just to see [missing text]."
"That's true," Tad admitted. "But there's a bit more to it."
Blane stretched on the bed until his spine popped as a result.
"Actually something fell into my lap the other day, and I immediately thought about you. How you used to tell me every night how great it was to be out of this environment, even if it was only for a few years. I remembered how you'd trotted back here to try and save a few souls. Have you?"
"Saved any souls?" Blane laughed. "I'm afraid my days of such illusion have long gone." It was easier to admit that now than it would have been a few years ago when he'd been fresh with enthusiasm for his project to rescue the kids of the slums.
"Well, you're about to make your contribution to at least a few young studs' salvation's," Tad said. "You got a few poor, deprived kids around here that you think deserve getting out, maybe for college and the whole bit?"
"You're serious?"
"I can't guarantee they'll stay away from the old neighborhood," Tad said. "After all, you came back, didn't you?"
"Let's forget about me for a while. What did you have in mind?"
"I thought maybe I'd like to get fucked for quick beginners."
"That wasn't exactly what I meant."
Tad smiled, thinking how strange things worked out. He'd been thinking of Blane about the time this assignment had been dumped into his lap. How much easier knowing Blane was going to make all of it. What did Tad know about the poor, neglected riffraff that hung around the streets just waiting to mug little old ladies? The closest Tad had ever gotten to this kind of environment was going to bed with Blane Tanners.
"I know that wasn't exactly what you meant," Tad said, turning to his belly, "but I've decided, on second thought, that there'll be plenty of time for us to talk over that aspect of my visit a little later. Right now, I'd actually rather have a fuck. You haven't last any of that well-remembered virility in your old age, have you?"
"Fat chance of that," Blane said, rolling to cover Tad's prone body, his cock had already regaining the hardness it had lost after blasting up Tad's mouth.