Geoff and Chet Ch. 21: A Provocative Gay Sex Story on Xboylove.com
A gay sex stories: Geoff and Chet Ch. 21 Chapter 21 San Antonio and a Quiet Evening at the Condo
The last chapter contains a side story about Reg and Pete–how Peg tried to use Pete to get at Chet. This Chapter reverts to the standard time line. No RCC competitive meets have yet occurred. This is the first meet of the season with a small flashback intro. All characters engaged in sexual activity are over 18. Copyright, 2023, all rights reserved. BD
Chet’s POV
During the next two weeks, Geoff and I fell into a pattern which was likely to persist through the end of the semester. Sundays were typically free–so we enjoyed a late sleep-in (which quickly developed into a morning wood “suck-in”), a long hard workout in the condo gym, followed by a takeout lunch. Afternoons were reserved for studies, with a “tea time” sex break which we began to call a “stud-ee break”. We went out to a local ethnic place for a “different” light dinner, then more study and an early bed–usually just cuddling, but often finishing with slow, languid sex and powerful mutual orgasms. Sunday was definitely becoming Sexday.
Geoff’s classes occupied him throughout the week and his days began before six. He would come home exhausted; we’d shower together and I would give him a sensual massage. Occasionally, he would fall asleep during the massage. Sometimes, (what am I saying, usually), we’d get off–orally or with the slow sensual anal coupling we’d begun to cherish. Then, we would have a late light dinner, often a protein shake, before turning in. Geoff was turning me into even more of an “early to bed, early to riser” than I had ever been (at least not since I left the plantation). Sleeping in each other’s arms was also becoming addictive.
My own classes varied from day to day, were peppered around my workouts and rides. Cycling continued to dominate my life. Monday was an early long ride, with afternoon class and a three hour session in the mock trading room. Tuesday started with classes, a lunch with the team at the jock cafeteria, study and a late afternoon workout–again at the condo. Wednesday morning had back to back classes, the jock lunch and a full afternoon at the club, working out, riding stationary bikes, and critiquing films. Thursday duplicated Monday except for a late afternoon meeting with my thesis advisor. That was the day Geoff and I used the condo gym to workout before showering, a massage and dinner. Friday’s activities varied–some combo of class and a workout. Within a few weeks, we would be leaving Friday afternoon for an away meet, but until then I had some free time. Saturday was reserved for the team’s Memorial Park exercises and starting in a few weeks, meets. Typically, I joined Geoff for a late lunch and we decompressed for the rest of the day on Saturday.
We found time for cuddling and occasional sex during the week, but the morning “exercises” of our waking woodies were relegated to Sundays. Our schedules were difficult. Our times were tight. But, it was comfortable to realize that Geoff and I were becoming easy roommates–with occasional explosive benefits.
The designer finished the redo of the condo by the third week. The silk drapes and bed covers were gone. Blue grey duvets covered both our beds. Dark grey/navy, smooth, silky area carpets now graced the floors of the living room and both bedrooms, leaving some bare marble for an occasional dance. We decided to leave most of the mirrors–I am sure you can guess why. The largest available LED appeared in place of one piece of abstract art. The place felt more masculine–and was now “our home.”
The first meet in San Antonio brought several issues to resolution. First, there was the question of how to handle Nicole. She insisted on joining friends (groupies) on the trip although I had told her I would not leave the team on Friday night–and that I intended to be with the team for the drive to and from San Antonio. So I wouldn’t have much time. She did cheer us on as we were victorious over three other teams–from Shreveport, Dallas, and San Antonio, the home team. Our team time was outstanding and I set a personal record for the 105 mile course that included an excursion through some of the hill country surrounding the city. Great start to the season.
Nicole came up to me after and was characteristically demonstrative in her praise and affection–she pulled me into an embrace, Frenched and groped me within seconds–and for minutes–after the meet ended. Geoff had given me permission to date her, but I just couldn’t do it. A phony relationship to cover my own sexuality was just not something I could handle and live with myself, particularly because with Nicole it would definitely involve trading fluids. I was smelly and sweaty and a little put off by her assumptions. When I told her that I had another date for that Saturday night back in Houston, she exploded. “You could have told me before I came all the way to San Antonio.”
“Nicole, I’ve been trying to tell you to cool it for two weeks. You just don’t seem to get the picture.”
“Who is she?”
“We’re not going there.”
She appeared to be getting ready to slug me, but suddenly turned, and moved off quickly to rejoin her friends for the trip back home. She stared back at me with daggers in her eyes and then whispered something to her friends. I’m pretty sure we haven’t heard the last of this. But, at least I’ve set the end in motion.
The San Antonio meet also provided an occasion to try to patch things up with Pete. I deliberately put us in the same room on Friday night. But, Pete was pre-occupied and appeared to have joined Reg at the hip. They sat (and slept) with each other on one of the buses. And he went out with Reg after the team dinner and didn’t return until just before our 10 pm curfew. We probably didn’t speak more than 100 words together the entire time. But I did note that Pete had changed. He was much more confident, almost cocky. He had previously been among the most modest of our mates–always wrapped in a towel, but now he moved around the room in form-enhancing designer underwear (I wondered where that had come from) or nude. If I didn’t know better, I would have assumed he was flirting with me. Or maybe he was flaunting. His cycling performance had improved–and maybe he was more cut. Several times he seemed to pose nude while he stripped and watched nonsense on the TV, knowing that he was in my direct line of sight. Perhaps Reg was the ego boost he needed. Ironically Reg probably thought he was using Pete, but he might be helping to make him the next captain. At any rate Pete didn’t seem to be in any distress–or danger.
After the initial heat where Reg had seemed to exhibit an aggressive willingness to do anything to win, he settled down. It was hard to imagine that Coach Neal’s conversation had had such an impact. Maybe he understood that we were filming everything. Reg was careful around the team, offering positive advice, sharing shower stuff, keeping his ego on simmer. And of course there was no doubt that he was a champion cyclist. His times were consistently second or third best–and deep down I thought he was sandbagging. At some point, he would explode and let loose. I was careful, rarely alone with him, and always treated him like any other team member. We are cyclists, familiar with French words. I think I would say we had reached a “détente.”