A gay sex stories: Geoff and Chet Ch. 11 Chapter 11 Preparing to Leave for Houston
Author’s Note: This is a work of fiction, part of a multi-chapter, two part novella. Copyright, 2023. All characters portrayed in sexual situations are over 18. The chapters in Part I are told almost entirely from Geoff’s POV and cover the period until the move to Houston and the commencement of the new school year. BD
I started my last full day at home before med school bright and early. I swam laps for over an hour; then spent a leisurely breakfast talking with Mom. She had accepted that Chet and I were already in a relationship and that we were going to try to make it work for a time. “Just be careful. Those Irish boys are loving and lovable, but they can be unpredictable, independent, and headstrong—just like your father. They also have addictive personalities—which goes both ways–you can easily become addicted to him and he can easily become addicted to you. Be sure it’s attraction, not addiction.”
“Don’t I know it? Particularly with a guy as beautiful as Chet. But, I think I like someone who is independent. I really can’t handle anyone who leans too hard on me for self-validation. I prefer someone able to stand alone—who can give and take. Perhaps I could even all for someone who is addicted if that means committed to something all-in. I can’t believe how committed Chet is to cycling. He really expects to be the best in the country. And Chet is very intelligent. He’s going to graduate near the top of his class in finance. He’s not naïve—if he doesn’t make it as a cyclist, he’s got great credentials for a career in finance. We talk all the time about important things—and about feelings. I can actually have an intelligent conversation with him. I think he is down deep a really good guy. He’s rejected, at least on the surface, most of the fundamentalist religious ideas that have been drilled into him—but he’s idealistic and wants justice for everyone. And boy does he have a strong sense of Catholic guilt. Yeah, I know he’s not Catholic, but his Dad was. I think it’s genetic with them. Over and over, he has done the right thing by the team, even at personal cost. He could be the one for me. And I just vibrate when he is near; he’s a magnificent specimen of alpha manhood.”
“I’m pleased. Obviously, you have thought this through. We are all going to be pulling for you two. But, I’ve got to get ready. Today is my day with Matt. We’ll send you off with a proper farewell tonight.” I could tell she was already in gear. Momma hen was ready to preen her chicks—especially the youngest. She roused Matt, gave him only a few minutes to eat, and they were off to the barber and the mall by 10—just as they had since he was 5.
I did a little packing—I really didn’t have much to take. Then, I was off to meet Becca and Chet. They were ready and we drove to Austin. Becca sat between us in the cab, resting her arms possessively on both our thighs. Interesting.
En route, he told Becca about the Amazon offer. She was impressed, and he glowed in her approval. She was obviously someone special to him—particularly given his difficult family situation. I was pretty sure he was going to take the deal—assuming no legal obstacles were raised. But, he had agreed to hold off acceptance until we received the foundation attorney’s advice later. I could tell he was very anxious. “I know it’ll work out. Just sorry that you had to be banged up to make it happen.”
Becca added, “And it would have been nice to hear about before this.”
We all went into Lone Star. The bike looked terrific, like almost new. He took it out for a quick ride which left Becca and me alone. I thought I was in for another warning lecture. But, no. “You may be the best thing that has happened to Chet in a long time. He does need someone even if he doesn’t know it. He really hasn’t had a supportive family for years. He’s been struggling with who he is. We all like to think we’re independent and self-sufficient. But, it’s really nice to have a partner. I thought a lot last night about the two of you. And I’m really pleased. Count on me for whatever support you need in convincing him to lean on you a bit. Otherwise, I know he won’t. He really is proud of his independence.” Wow, I had her approval.
Chet returned from the ride, pronounced the bike perfect, and then looked around a bit, taking photos with his phone of some equipment that he wanted. I think he was creating a mental Christmas list or maybe an Amazon list. If we’re still together then, as I hope, I presume he will share it with me. But, we didn’t buy anything. We wrapped the bike in bubble. Chet had brought the travel case and we loaded it in the pickup bed and tied it down. I could tell how precious it was to him. He was back in business.
Becca suggested a cute little bistro, Café Monet en Provence, for lunch—and it worked since we could eat outdoors and park the pickup nearby. I hadn’t yet planned for securing the bike in the bed. We walked in and the hostess greeted us: Becca, a beautiful blonde Texan between two tall hunks–one dark and mysterious, the other a blonde Adonis—all in reflective Hollywood style sunglasses, tight white tees that highlighted our pecs, and shorts that bulged provocatively in the front. You could almost see her reaction to our appearance. Her eyes lit up; her smile widened as she scoped out both Chet and me from crotch to forehead. “How’re y’all? Three for lunch?”
“Yes mam.” She seated us immediately—and prominently as eye candy–to the envious eyes of several attractive groups of ladies who were already dining. Obviously this was a spot for ladies’ leisurely lunches. I wonder what was going through their minds. “Which one is hers? Or were they thinking perhaps a threesome?” “How does she rate two guys who look like that?” “I could handle a threesome with those two guys.”
Chet and I decided to play along and both of us had hands all over Becca as we chatted and ordered. She picked up on the game and touched our arms every time she spoke. “Just think of the bridge club conversation later. We’ve just launched a hundred stories—some of which are bound to be x-rated.”
We ordered salads and iced teas, and began to eat. It was excellent, but Becca seemed melancholy. “Pourquoi si triste? C’est seulement au revoir, pas le fin. Even with virtual courses at Rice, I know you’ll be on campus at least once a month. Be sure to let us know when you are. And you are going to be so busy playing the bride-to-be.”
I offered the spare room in the condo even though I guessed her parents and fiancé might be scandalized with her staying with a single guy (or guys?).
Curiously the “we’s and us’s” started creeping into both of our vocabularies as we talked about the summer, our immediate plans, and Chet’s first official meet in only three weeks in San Antonio. After dessert, Becca’s spirits were improved, and I think it is safe to say that Chet and I were also on a high with anticipation.
We drove back to their place, and Chet and I started carrying a few boxes to the pickup. We wrapped and loaded the second bike. When the last suitcase was loaded, we vacuumed and washed down the bath and efficiency kitchen. I hadn’t done so much domestic labor in years. By then, it was late afternoon. Chet went to say good bye and to thank the Pierces, dropping off the key and leaving a giant bowl of fresh cut hydrangeas (a favorite in French Provence) on the hall table. We both embraced Becca, promising to meet soon in Houston, wished her well with wedding plans, and drove back home. It was still quiet. Dad was expected home around 6; Mom had texted she would be home then as well. Even she was exhausted from shopping with and for Matt—so we are doing Chinese take out.
“Let’s take our last skinny-dip before Mom and Matt get home.” We stripped poolside and both dove in and floated for awhile in the sun. It was good to see that Chet had healed enough to dive. After a few laps, we approached the deep end and he climbed onto me, wrapping his legs around my waist. My penis hardened and lifted to rest in his crack as his arms surrounded my neck and we French kissed until we were both completely aroused. “There is a pool and a gym at the condo, you know, but I don’t think there will be much opportunity for this level of casualness—or closeness.”
Chet’s face seemed to fall. I realized there was an elephant in the pool with us. “Ok. What’s up now pardner?”
“Just thinking.”
“I know I can smell the burning rubber.”
“You do understand that I am not moving into the condo with you?”
“I sort of expected that, but we do have a few more nights before the jock dorm opens.”
“Things are going to change a lot. We’re going to be really busy. And, Geoff, I can’t continue to rely on you for almost everything.”
“That has become very clear. But, I’ll take—or give—whatever you’ll permit me. I think we should enjoy the next couple of days, and certainly the nights, and then see how things work out. And after that, even if I can’t do everything, perhaps you’ll let me do some things. I think I’m falling in love with you.”
“I have so much on my plate right now that I really can’t add more planning and decisions. But I agree–we’d be crazy not to give us a try—but ‘us’ is going to take second place to our individual primary responsibilities at school.”
“Have you been talking with Dad?”
“I’ve been thinking. Assuming you don’t move in with me, I’m hoping we can work out together in the condo gym several times a week. Surely we can spend some time together at the end of at least some of those days. Fortunately your senior curriculum is not all-consuming. Hours on the mock trading floor, but not much homework after. I realize that often when I have a day or two off—I guess mostly weekends—you’ll be traveling to competitions. For some at least, I plan to be there. But, at least we’re not going to be hundreds or thousands of miles apart. My invitation that you move into the condo stands. At least then we might have more casual time together. I don’t think Mom and Dad would be at all surprised. Perhaps we could start with weekends—long weekends.”
“I’m not going to move in Geoff. If I do that, I’m essentially sponging on you. Rice provides the dorm room and the jock table, but they won’t reimburse me if I decide to live off campus. I can’t afford off campus rent, let alone my share of what I assume is a Texas-sized luxury condo.”
“We are definitely going to get over this dependence hang up you have. When you love some one, that is not an issue, babe. We’ve got money, actually quite a lot of it, and I’m willing to share.”
“You just dropped the L-word and “babe” in the same sentence. A week ago that would have sent me screaming for the door. But, I think I feel the same way. I’m not sure you will ever be my “babe” however—you’re too big–and dark. I guess my mother would call you my dark angel—or maybe something worse. You are temptation personified. Sex—no sin on a stick. I can’t believe how much we’ve sinned this week. That monster pole of yours is resting right where I love it even now—so, so tempting. But, what do you think if I called you “Angel”? I’ll find my way through this. I promise to try. The Amazon deal may be the foundation that gives me the kind of self-confidence that I need to have. So will a successful biking year. I’m learning to accept the benefits of your love. Just give me a bit of time. Meanwhile, I’m trying to show that I can love too.”
“I thought you were raised Baptist. You’re sure filled with Irish Catholic guilt. I guess that’s in your genes. Another virtue that I’ll have to screw out of you. So can I consider it settled? We spend as much of the next few days and nights in bed as we can manage. Did I tell you the condo had room service from the hotel next door? Then, we make it work. And, I bet you’ll be in our bed often and move into our condo before Thanksgiving.” Chet gave me a dazzling smile and reached around me to pull me in for another long kiss as he squeezed my hard dick with his ass cheeks and his own climbed up my abs.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Dinner is in an hour or so. Let’s go wash off the chlorine. And then we have all night to celebrate this arrangement—or will you let me call it a relationship?”
So we showered together in my marble-clad spa, soaping, rubbing and bringing each other off so hard that we needed each other for support. I grabbed the hand held, looked at him, and said, “Assume the position. Spread’m.” He leaned against the wall and gripped the bar, pushing his magnificent ass up and at me. I used one hand to reach under him and steady him. Then, I lubed my index finger, probed a bit and teased his prostate. Sometimes I think my dick is connected to his prostate for when his penis jerked up, so did mine. Then I used the device to clean him thoroughly. I found this to be incredibly sexy. “We have one of these in the condo.”
“I couldn’t have assumed anything else.” Then, he performed the same procedure on me, until we were both hard again. We dried off, changed and went into the living room. Sated, but expectant.
Mom and Matt soon arrived with two large brown bags of fragrant Chinese food. “There are tons of packages in the SUV. Will you help Matt bring them in?”
Matt frowned, “She bought me enough clothes to wear something different every day for the entire semester. I’m sorry Regent doesn’t permit jeans and tees—or that it doesn’t prescribe a uniform.” We made several trips bring packages in and as we finished, Dad arrived.
Mom hugged him and said to all of us, “I have news, good news. I heard from Paul today. He thinks the Amazon proposal works from the standpoint of Chet’s amateur status, particularly if you emphasize the accident—the endorsement is for the Rice Cycle Team, not you personally; the rest is compensation for injury. He also thinks that, given the famous results that the Texas plaintiff’s personal injury bar gets, Amazon’s offer is too low, much too low, perhaps by a factor of ten. He’s calling them to get them to at least double it. I trust his diplomacy even if he does seem to be waving a litigation red flag in front of the bull. He is sure that Amazon knows who is responsible and that they will certainly understand the potential liability and the nasty publicity that could occur. I expect his call any minute. If by some remote chance they balk, Chet can always say he didn’t authorize a counter-proposal and accept the first one.” I certainly understood why Mom was CEO of the Foundation—her strategic sense was unfailing.
We sat down to an informal dinner, but I could tell Chet was tense—he ate only an egg roll and a little Kung Pao. Near the end of dinner, Paul called. Mom took the call and we saw her smile widen. “They are doubling the offer and throwing in a cash payment of $10,000. Shall I tell him that you agree?” “Of course,” Chet whispered. I could see the relief on his face; he needs to learn to be a bit more demonstrative if he is going to be taken seriously by this family—or maybe a little less so, if he goes to be a chamption options trader.
“Thank you Mom and thank Paul for us.” I think she and Dad both noted the “us.”
“The truck is packed and I’d like to leave it in the garage tonight if that’s ok with you guys. We plan to get an early start.” “Chet, I don’t know whether you need a formal invitation, but feel free to crash at Geoff’s condo anytime, and this is the first of what will be many invites to join us for Thanksgiving—and any other time our wayward son decides to visit us.” It was interesting to hear that it was now my condo.
“I’ll have breakfast at 6 if you want.” “Well, maybe not quite that early. Dad is off tomorrow and deserves to sleep in—maybe 8 or 8:30?” Dad chuckled and gave me a knowing leer.
“Thanks. We’re going to go finish up. I don’t think we need more farewells. I plan to return in about three or four weeks to exchange the pickup for one of the other cars—maybe the SUV so I can transport Chet’s bikes from time to time. The pickup is not good for Houston. Perhaps Matt might like to have it.”
“Are you kidding? Yes, yes, yes.”
Dad added, “If it’s okay with your mother, you can have the SUV.”
I hugged Mom and Dad and pulled Chet into the group hug. “Good luck guys. Make it a great year.”
We retired to my room and closed and locked the door. I turned on some music, dimmed the lights, and drawled in my best Texas imitation, “What’s your pleasure tonight?”
“Oh I think we can share the honors. I am so happy and so relaxed for the first time in weeks.”
“Relaxed was not exactly what I had in mind.” I walked up to him and pushed him back onto the bed. I pulled his clothes off and had his dick in my mouth within seconds. “The Chinese never were very good with dessert.”
I stood and stripped and we were in each other’s arms within seconds. Both of us seemed to be trying to climb inside the other as we rolled, writhed, and caressed hot skin and hard muscles. Tongues, lips, fingers, legs, and hands were all engaged. The temperature was definitely rising. And it was melting us into one hot mash-up of urgent, smoldering flesh. Chet was a sex-crazed Tasmanian devil in heat—and he had the nerve to call me a gorilla. I had never seen him so turned on. There was an incredible urgency to our hunger for each other. I guess I really like him “relaxed.”
“I want you inside me first,” said Chet as he flipped onto his stomach on the bed and raised his hips provocatively. I reached over, placed my leg protectively on his thigh, caressed his magnificent ass, and began to lube and open him up. I really enjoy fingering Chet because he responds so readily, gripping and trapping my fingers inside him. And I could write poems about this ass, just a bit soft over rock hard muscles, and of course with those with handy, deep hip indentations and dimples. I kissed and licked as I sawed into him with now three fingers. My own chest was pushed into his back and my lips were sucking on his earlobe as he writhed beneath me. Then, I pushed up, reached around and flipped him over.
“I want to see your face when I make love to you for the first time.” Both of us knew what I meant. We kissed deeply as I used my large hands to push the backs of his knees up toward his chest. Then he relaxed his legs on my shoulders. I bent down and slowly used my tongue to arouse him even more, taking each nipple between my teeth and biting gently, then harder. He was whimpering and perspiring. Pheromones scented the air as I slowly positioned my rock hard dick and penetrated, withdrew and pistoned being sure to scrape across the prostate over and over. Chet was already tensing his abs and lifting his hips to match every stroke, urging me deeper and deeper. He squeezed my rod tightly as I bottomed out. Then I started to swell. I was bigger than ever and all for my lover. The fit was the tightest I had ever experienced. I could barely breathe. His sheath started to throb and contract—he was exercising his muscles–strangling my pole. “Let up a bit and let me pull out.” I pulled almost all the way out and plunged in as I reached down and kissed his beautiful lips again. He contracted around me again. I reached down and took his mouth in mine, pushing my tongue forcefully so we were fully connected. And I erupted and started filling him with my hot, thick white seed.
He had squeezed me so hard that he compressed the vessels carrying my seed to the head resulting in the most intense and longest orgasm ever. There is no better feeling in the world than an ejaculation traveling through a penis which is being massaged by your lover’s tight tunnel of muscles. And he was my lover, not my bottom or my sub.
I was already soaked with Chet’s precum when he shot up onto my chest. We held the orgasms for as long as possible, pulsing again and again, before I collapsed beside him on the sheets. I reached over and pulled him into a long passionate embrace and kiss. We can do slow. We can do big and fast and hard. And we can do love. I kinda like love. I am so lucky this guy is mine. And I am his.