A gay story: My Baseball Buddy Ch. 06 The funny thing was that just as Nate and I were finally coming to terms with our situation… everything changed.
Typical.
The first change came at us fast and furious… our near-sacred baseball screenings quickly evaporated. As the final countdown to the playoffs got started, all kinds of fair-weather fans came out of the woodwork and wanted to be part of the action.
Including, alas, our wives.
I’m hoping that when my wife announced she and Nate’s wife wanted to join us to watch the games, and wanted make some nice hors d’oeuvres and bring a bottle of wine to share while we did so, I reacted with grace and poise instead of making a face of unbridled horror.
Worse was the playoffs themselves. Nate decided to host a viewing party–his downstairs TV room was large enough, and posh enough, for just such an occasion. Several of his co-workers were expected. I slapped a smile on my face and was a magnanimous guest… although at one point, I did whisper to Nate that whatever he used to clean the downstairs couch, I hoped it was strong.
He punched my arm.
The playoff games were an utter disaster. Our boys crashed and burned, getting knocked out in straight games. Worse, they looked like they were playing T-ball in a Hollywood film about hapless, lovable losers.
Fucking Yankees.
Fast on the heels of that debacle, Nate got a great opportunity at work that sucked up nearly all his free time. As the new guy, he had been itching to make a name for himself; the company decided to give him a chance with a project that would take everything he had for about six months, and still keep him tied up after that. Nate was flush with excitement at the opportunity and I very vocally cheered him on, even knowing what it would do to our chances of getting together. At first, we were able to still sneak in a couple of small-scale get-togethers where I, um… “pumped him up,” but those quickies on the side weren’t the same as those magical fuckathons during that first weekend of discovery.
I have to say… all that combined bullshit, going down at all the same time, kinda knocked the wind out of my sails. It fucking sucked. Ironic, being that I had been seriously thinking of trying to break things off with Nate to avoid getting too attached. Not a chance of that anymore.
Damn.
I really, really, really missed the life-changing sex we had. But more than that, I… I… missed my buddy. Well, “missed” doesn’t seem to capture the full range of feelings. I couldn’t really put it into words.
Looking back, that first crazy-ass weekend we spent exploring together had really did a number on me. It was something I couldn’t shake… or seem to move forward from.
At the same time, I intellectually realized that Nate missed me, too. During the first couple weeks on his new project, he reached out often, saying he was thinking about me, and trying to schedule time together, even if the timing never quite worked out. But as the project advanced, even those messages fell by the wayside. I was happy for him, but… well, it sucks being the one left behind when someone else starts an adventure.
Fall turned to winter. At the start of December, my wife and I hosted a massive open house to kick off the holidays. Nate and Shannon showed up and were their wonderful selves. Nate tried to talk to me, but as I was the host, there was always something else that needed my attention. Only when they were starting to leave did he finally corner me away from the rest of the hubbub. Nate quietly held up a sprig of holly he had grabbed from one of our decorations and said, “Will, bud, I don’t think we can meet under the official mistletoe, but I brought this as a hopeful alternative.” He looked around conspiratorially, held it over his head, then turned to me with puppy-dog eyes. I laughed, leaned forward, and shared an all-too-brief kiss.
“Thanks bud. Merry Christmas.”
“Happy New Year.”
The next couple months were more of the same, as Nate’s big project drew closer to completion. I gathered from the few hasty messages he shot me that stress was eating him alive, and I responded by doing what I could to keep his spirits up. At one point, we got a nasty snowstorm, and as I finished up snowblowing our driveway, I made it point to do his, too. Just trying to look out for the guy. Strangely, I didn’t hear from him. Not that I expected to, or really needed to… but it was just one more sucky reminder of the distance that had crept between us.
It kinda tore my heart out. Nate was legitimately busy, and hell… we both had other commitments, but…
For good or for bad, the enforced radio silence gave me ample (way too much) time to think about what I wanted from him. From us. From our wives, our lives… everything. Some things clarified, but a lot of my feelings just had to be put on a shelf. Fuck all these… complications.
Of course, the kicker was that even my wife noticed me moping about and asked if anything had happened between Nate and I. I gave kinda a wishy-washy answer and she responded, “Oh, quit being such a man about it! Guys are allowed to reach out to their friends, too! Just talk to him… you know you’ll feel better.”
That, maybe not surprisingly, really got to me. I mean, she had no fucking idea about us, but here she was pushing for us to spend more time together. She instinctively knew Nate was important to me, and that his absence was weighing on me. Great. Way to make me feel like a real piece of crap. Again, I had to wonder if the fates were just playing with us, or worse, were telling us we shouldn’t be together anyway.
But the fates kept on working in mysterious ways. One particularly blustery late-winter evening, I got a message after dinner. Pretty low-key: “Hey, you around this eve?”
Despite my self-pitying conviction we were never going to see each other, I snapped up to instant, full-body alertness. I typed out an affirmative reply so fast, I completely misspelled “Yes!”
A minute or two later, he was at my back door. Despite the close distance between our houses, he was covered in wet snow. “Hey stranger,” I answered, trying to remain cool even though my voice was warbling like a teenage boy’s. “This is a surprise, what’s up?”
“Hey man!” Nick enthused. Shit. His baritone voice was warm and smokey, like fine scotch. I think I was getting butterflies. “It’s nasty out here. Can I come in? Seriously, this a bad time for you?”
“No, no, it’s all good.” I gestured toward the living room, continuing, “The wife’s watching TV, and I’m just wasting time online.”
“Cool.” He bushed by me and started to stamp the snow off his shoes. Taking… a loooong time to stamp his shoes. Staring at them the whole time. Finally he looked up at me. “Cool. I……… Look, I just thought……… I mean…………”
His completely out-of-character pauses were starting to make we worried. “Dude, are you okay?”
Nate breathed out, hard. Almost a laugh. “Shit. Sorry. Something else to apologize for. So… I… I wanted to say… I’m really sorry. I’ve been a shit friend these last few months. Life has been out of control, and… Look, I feel bad.” He looked over toward the family room and its blaring TV. Satisfied that she couldn’t hear us, he continued in a low voice. “We really were coming to an understanding, and I was all pushing you… to… accept things, and then I essentially went AWOL as soon as you… actually started accepting them. I’m so sorry. I swear to God, Will, this wasn’t just some massive mind-fuck. So, I wanted to tell you I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole. For a while now. But it dawned on me that we’ve been so out of touch, the silence itself has become part of the problem, and it was even harder to apologize. It’s a mess. And… it’s all been my fault. I’m sorry, bud. Really sorry.”
I took a deep breath. Hearing his voice… really got to me. And hearing my brash corporate would-be-titan almost… grovel did a helluva lot to wash away the anxieties I had over the past few months.
“Thanks, man… I appreciate it. But to be fair, to totally warned me that this was your first big test and you’d be off the grid. Don’t worry about it. Things still crazy?”
There was a pause. He just looked at me. Considering. When he resumed, Nate’s voice was a lot quieter, but audibly brighter.
“Thanks, Will. You… you’re fucking amazing.” A longer pause. “But yeah, still crazy, but I’m happy to report I’m in the final stretch. For this phase anyway. There’s still a shit-ton of details, but it’s moving into the phase where it’s the firm’s business, and less my personal business. They’ve been really happy. Really happy with how things have gone. In fact, with their support I’m going to be taking Shannon on a big trip to Costa Rica in a couple of weeks. It’s a chance to show her my (and the company’s) appreciation, and we’re looking forward to reconnecting. It’s been hard on her, too.”
“Holy shit, man, that’s fantastic! I’m really happy for you.” I was really happy for him. But at the same time, I was feeling about 25 other emotions and many of them weren’t quite as generous.
There was a long pause. Nate kinda… chuckled. Another pause. Nate was… working something over in his mind, and I gave him some space. “Will, I was thinking of something else. Something that… Well, I wasn’t sure if I’d fucked things up so badly I wouldn’t even get to float this by you. But I was thinking… well, Shannon isn’t the only person I wanted to connect with.”
There was a huge lump in my throat that I couldn’t quite get rid of…
“I totally understand if it’s like, too weird and all… but we’re coming up on Spring Training soon. I don’t suppose… like if you have free time or something… if you might want to… you know… head to Florida with me for a weekend so we could…”
“HOLY SHIT DUDE ARE WE GOING TO SPRING TRAINING??!!”
Nate burst out laughing. “I take it that’s a ‘yes’?”
“YES! This is fucking awesome! Especially since two minutes ago I was half afraid you were breaking up with me!”
I could hear the wince in Nate’s voice. A whole-body wince. “Will, I am so, so, so sorry about everything. I’ve been a shit friend and pretty much threw you to the wolves. It was so unfair, especially after… everything.”
“Nate, for the last time, we’re good. So, what’s your plan?”
Nate was about to say something, but then he checked himself, then looked over to where the TV sounds were coming. And he had A Look come over his face. He walked closer to me. And leered.
Before I realized what was happening, Nate had unzipped my fly, and was reaching into my jeans.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed, looking toward the other room where the TV was still blaring. That said, I didn’t move to block him in any meaningful way.
“First part of my plan. I’m starting reparations.”
“Shit, man. You can’t… my wife…”
Nate dropped to his knees. In a second, he had fished my cock out. “Your wife will certainly know something is up if you make any noise. So someone is gonna have to be real quiet.” He leaned into me, and ran his face around my cock, which had gotten rock hard. “Fuuuuuuck,” he whispered. “I forgot how fucking good you smell. Like sex.”
“Duuuuude,” I murmured. My hands shaking.
And like that, he fucking went after me. He took my head into his mouth, running his tongue around the rim and tickling the underside. I hissed out my excitement, and grabbed his shoulders. He continued to work my head, sucking in hard, and using his tongue like no one else could. Fucking teasing my piss slit. Tickling the underside. Rolling across the rim. I gave one last terrified glance towards the TV, and then leaned into it.
Nate fucking sucked me. Sucked me like only a man could. Hard. Wet. Fast. Mouth-fucking me. I almost fell forward, my eyes rolled back into my sockets. I gave out a strangled sound. I had replayed Nate’s blowjobs in my mind a hundred times while jerking off, but no memory could possibly compare to the real thing.
God, I had fucking missed this.
Nate fucking worked me over, hard and fast. My knees slightly gave way, and I tightened my grip on his shoulders to keep from falling forward. So. Fucking. Good. My whole body was crackling with electricity.
The TV continued to make its sounds. Nate continued to fucking suck me.
I grabbed Nate’s head and started to face fuck him. Hard. I couldn’t care less if my wife walked in on us. I didn’t care if Nate fucking choked on my cock. I needed his fucking mouth. My head flew back in a squelched scream, and I fucking let him have it. Taking out all my frustrations with our prolonged separation. Needing the masculine aggression that only came from sex with a man.
The fucking purity of man-on-man sex.
And Nate was right there with me. His hand grabbed my ass through my jeans and massaged me roughly. He fucking went after my cock with a fucking hunger. God, no woman could ever match the intensity of a man blowing you. I fucking drilled him, slamming into him as hard as he slammed into me. Not caring about anything. Fucking him. Making him pay for all the time we were apart. And I could feel my balls starting to boil over. Needing release. I fucking pinned his head and fucking raped his mouth. Ramming my cock into his hungry throat. Again and again, and againandagainandagain…
I bit down hard to keep from screaming, and fucking blasted about a hundred gallons of cum down his gullet. Nate had to swallow, and swallow hard. But there was too much cum for him. Finally, after an obscene gurgling sound, he pulled back and cum started pouring onto the floor. Nate coughed, and slammed his mouth back onto my cock, slurping down every last bit of cum he could.
The TV chatter kept on going. Indifferent to the intensity of the moment Nate and I just had.
“So, can I count you in for a spring training trip?”
Over the next few weeks, we laid our plans with boisterous energy. I had to smile at the metaphoricalness of it all: spring was bringing a new start to everything, kicking off a new season with a clean slate, and endless possibilities. Plus, it was bringing a fucking trip to sunny Florida, which cannot be underestimated when you’re trapped in frigid northern climes.
On the departure day, I kissed my wife and ran across the alley, as Shannon was set to drive us to the airport. Shannon smiled to greet me, and popped the back of the car for me to stow my gear. “Where’s Nate?” I asked.
“Oh, the idiot can’t find his phone again. He’ll be here in a second… he was absolutely ripping apart the house trying to find it.”
I chuckled, “Well, I think we’re both excited to get back to baseball!”
“Oh, no doubt. But… well, I’m glad you two are able to take this trip together.” Shannon gave me a look… one that was benevolent, yet surprisingly… matrimonial. A look all wives instinctively make, especially when their husbands are being stupid. “I told him he should call you more often. He’d never say anything–men being men, I guess–but he’s really missed you.” My face remained blank.
She looked back over toward the house fondly, then looked back at me and smiled warmly before continuing. “I’m really glad he’s got you as a friend. A lot of the guys he works with are self-absorbed pricks. You’ve been good for him, helped keep him honest. Plus, you know Nate… he tries to hoist the world onto his shoulders, and never takes care of himself. I’m hoping that now that all the dust is finally settling, he can start to unclench. Hopefully you can help convince him there’s more to life than getting ahead!”
“I’ll try!” I said hopefully, desperately masking a hurricane of emotions.
The flight to Florida was a bit of a whirlwind. I have no idea what our fellow travelers thought about us… we were like two riled up teenagers, loud and excited. And horny as fuck, although we were fighting mightily to keep that from spilling into the public. Thankfully we both were keeping our shirt tails untucked, to better hide our pronounced bulges.
Sexual tension ratcheted up to 11 as soon as we got off the plane and stepped into that warm, sultry air. We’d been trapped in the frigid north for so long, we started sweating like pigs the moment we were outside… especially as we had to stand in the car rental parking lot for nearly 45 minutes trying to figure out some fucking snafu on their part. God, his scent was absolutely killing me.
By the time we got to the hotel, I was so horny I thought my eyes were gonna explode. I was rock hard and fucking seething to finally be with him. Furious at having to keep playing nice in public. Ready to punch someone in the throat if they delayed us with one goddamn second of small talk.
The last obstacle was that perfectly fine, perfectly pleasant ASSHOLE BEHIND THE FRONT DESK JESUS MAN FOR FUCK’S SAKE JUST FUCKING GIVE US THE KEYS ALREADY YOU GODDAMN FUCK. I swear my hands were almost shaking as I nearly wrenched the key cards out of his hand–I think he finally finished his spiel explaining everything, but fuck it, it was fucking good enough. We started a speed-walk to the elevator that basically broke into a full-blown sprint. I was hard enough to lift weights with my dick.
I must have pounded that fucking call button on the elevator like 45 times trying to get it there, bouncing my leg wildly. Just as the doors opened, a sweet little lady approached and asked us to hold the door. God help me, it took every, every ounce of civilized upbringing to not shout “FUCK NO!” and take off without her. But we let her in. That was the longest elevator ride of my entire fucking life. I can’t fucking imagine what it must have smelled like to her, trapped in a small metal box with two big, sweaty guys in full-blown rut for each other.
We finally got to our suite and blasted the door open so hard it was like an asteroid smashed into it. I don’t know where the luggage ended up, and fucking didn’t care. I slammed into Nate so hard that any neutral observer would have assumed I was trying to kill him. Faces smashed together, lips grinding against each other hard enough to draw blood. Hands digging into each other like mountain climbers ascending the Matterhorn. And a truly embarrassing spectacle of two guys trying to kick off clothing even though we were so tightly pressed against each other you couldn’t slip a knife blade between us. We were so tangled in a twist of limbs and pant legs/shirt sleeves that we fell heavily onto the floor… Nate on his hip and me on top of him.
Fuck, it was ON.
I finally wrenched his sweaty undershirt off of his chest, and fucking mauled him with my mouth. Chewing at his hairy abs, sliding over to his nipples. Swinging wildly from side to side. His sweat smeared across my stubbled chin. Taking him in. Then I slid back, straddling him as he laid on his back, and started yanking off my shirt. It caught somewhere, and in frustration I fucking ripped it off, with an audible shredding sound. I could get a new one at fucking Costco or something later.
And I slammed back down on him, our chests and mouths grinding like power sanders. I roughly pinned his arms over his head, and slammed my face into his hairy pit, desperate for his scent. The fucking feel of his pit hair on my face.
Nate, who had been growling like a fucking snow blower this whole time, thundered into a higher gear, and after a few minutes threw me onto my back like I was a fucking rag doll. He grabbed my pants and violently pulled them down. In a flash, he started giving me the most savage blowjob I had ever experienced, equal parts thrilling and terrifying.
No, scratch that. Entirely thrilling.
It was a fucking tornado. He fucking ground his face against my crotch and balls so hard I fucking got razor burn… and I didn’t even think that was possible with fur on fur. He swept his face all over, scenting himself with my musk, and aggressively sucking down my balls. I fucking thought he was going to suck them right off! I was barking out explosive encouragement, swearing violent, blasphemous oaths and demanding more.
Finally, he took my dick into his mouth and fucking inhaled me… so fast, so deep, and so hard that he immediately started off cough-gagging, and spat me out. He gave himself just the barest of pauses, and went down even harder… and to my everlasting joy did the impossible… and fucking deep throated me. All the way down to the fucking base.
YEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGHHHH!!!!
Despite the desperate violence of everything that happened up to that point, the minute he swallowed me all the way down everything fucking stopped. Time itself fucking stopped. I screamed out as only a guy in raw sexual pleasure ever could, my hands instinctively wrapping around him. The tightness of his throat was from another plane of existence. He somehow… massaged my cock with his throat for a few moments, before wrenching his head back and coughing me out again in a shower of spit.
“HOLYFUCK! HOLYFUCK! HOLYFUCKHOLYFUCKHOLYFUCK!HOLYFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” I pulled his face back, looking at him with wonder. “How the fuck did you do that?”
He smiled, still coughing and with his eyes starting to water. “I… googled on how to deep throat a guy. I think I got it to work!”
“Oh, man… I fucking owe you! Fucking get ready!”
It was back on. I pushed him back and, in a flash, had removed his pants and Jockeys, and went down on him like a force of nature. God, his musk was setting fire to my brain, setting my blood to boil. I fucking sucked him down hard, working his dick with my mouth and hand in tandem. Switched to his balls, and worked his dick all over again. Sucking his cockhead harder than a vacuum. My spit flowing down his shaft.
At that moment, Nate joined in the fun and we started to 69. He rolled on top of me and I grabbed his furry asscheeks. The angle wasn’t as good for me working his cock, but gave me perfect access to his ass. My face tore through his sweaty crack, a fucking feast for my senses. His butt funk filled my nose. I made out with his pucker, ramming my tongue in to get him slick and loose, then stared roughly lapping him up and down, then shaking my head from side to side. His wiry butt hair causing friction on my face while my stubble scoured him raw. I was fucking moaning like a bitch in heat as I brutally ate him out. He was matching me, grunt for grunt… but with my dick halfway down his throat, the bellowing howls he was making were muted. We were in a fucking primal state of sexual aggression.
Finally I had enough. I clambered out from under him and pushed his shoulders down, forcing his face against the floor with his spit-slick ass up in the air. There was no time to find our lube. Instead, I hacked up some natural lubrication and smeared it on my cock. I lined up and fucking drove all the way in, balls deep inside him.
He fucking howled. I’m sure it hurt like a motherfucker, it been so long since we’ve done anything like this, but I fucking didn’t care. God, that fucking ferocious pressure… the wet, hot pressure from his shaggy butt, tighter than any cunt could ever be. FUCK! I FUCKING NEEDED THIS! I rolled my hips around in great circles inside him–as much to loosen him up as to rejoice in the red-hot tightness of his ass–and then started a series of full-body hammer strokes. BAM… BAM… BAM…
His ass fucking ate my dick, crushing it. Massaging it in a fucking death grip. BAM… BAM… BAM…
The thick, heavy slap-thud of man sex. BAM… BAM… BAM…
Our mutual howls locked into the fearsome rhythm. BAM… BAM… BAM…
I needed to release. Fuck his feelings. Fuck our feelings. Fuck everything. I fucking needed to blow. NOW! I sped up. BAMBAMBAM…
It was all too much for my dick, starved of these sensations for too long. I could feel my load build in my balls, screaming for release. My whole body started shuddering, and I swear I could start to see stars. The pressure, the elation, the fucking blood rage exploded inside me, and I shot out so hard I swear I could feel the recoil kicking me back.
NNGGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
I came so hard, so fast, I fried every single cell in my body. I was fucking spent.
Nate, however, was just getting started… and he knew exactly how to wring some last bits of feeling out of my body.
Faster than I could react to, Nate stood and pulled me up with him. He sat down heavily on a couch near us, spat onto his hand and lubed himself up. He pulled me over, getting me so squat over his crotch. He lined me up over his rock-hard cock and pulled me down… GAAAHHHHHH! He fucking speared me to the hilt. I fucking howled, even louder than he did. The heat, the pain were nearly unbearable, but fortunately I was relaxed enough from cumming that my body stopped fighting him in short order. I could feel my body unclench and let him fill me. Fuck it was intense. I gasp-panted desperate breaths onto his shoulder, nearly biting him, and clutching him tighter than a fucking bear climbing a tree.
Then to my astonishment, Nate stood up, hoisting me with him, never letting his cock slide out of me. I’m hardly some twig of a thing, and I’m proud of my well-earned muscles… but he lifted me like I was nothing. In a flash, he had slammed my shoulders against the hotel room door, bracing me… and Nate started fucking me from below. My legs instinctively wrapped around his hips. My arms clutched him around the neck for support, and suddenly his face was pressed against mine. Fucking slamming my mouth as hard as his dick slammed into me from below. His violent thrusts shook my entire body, pounding me up and down, up and down.
The force was like nothing I had ever experienced. Each hammer blow sounded like a a SWAT team was breaking the door down.
And God… the fucking feeling of being slam-fucked by this fucking brute of a guy fucking ripped apart my mind. I was awash in feelings I couldn’t begin to process. Again and again he slammed into me. Deep-body slams that fucking tore me up. Hammer blows hard enough to sink the Titanic. My ass was exploding into fire, which started roaring throughout my entire body. I grabbed onto him for dear life. And he fucked me. Fucked me. FUCKED ME
FUCKMEFUCKMEFUCKMEFUCKMEFUCKME
Somehow, I realized that was me screaming.
The fire inside me kept building, building… and went all-out nuclear. My skin rippling with fire, my ears ringing with the roar of my blood. Nate tensed, and his grunts widened into a fucking battle cry as he fucking exploded deep inside me. That fucking triggered me, and I screamed my head off, blasting out ropes of cum that shot fucking everywhere. Dousing us. Fuck… I think I might have blacked out.
Not bad for round one.
That rest of the evening was fucking amazing. Nate and I fell into a rhythm. The savagery of the that first fuck gave way to more extended sessions that flowed naturally and easily. We fucking worshiped each other, reckless and uncaring of anything else in the world. Pulling, biting, sucking, thrusting, feasting. Nonstop, without a break. Without breaking contact. We fucking ground against each other so fiercely that our hairy bodies gave each other rug burn.
Only our bodies’ need for food got in our way. We knew in advance there was no way we were going to leave the room that night, opting for room service steaks that were surprisingly good. It didn’t matter if they had served us shit on a biscuit… we had each other.
It was… so strange being with him. And I mean that in a wonderful, glorious way. During that first week of discover together, we had fucked each other’s brains out, without any chance of interference. So of course, we had been uninhibited… free with everything we did. But there had always been something of an obstacle in that I always had to go home. So we didn’t have that final bit of freedom–of being free to not only to totally give ourselves over to the moment, but to let the moment last as long as we fucking wanted it to.
That last barrier was finally gone. We were accountable only to each other. So we fucking fucked.
And something… amazing happened. It was well after midnight. We had wanted to get to sleep, so we’d be ready to experience the next day of baseball fever at the spring training compound. We had been in bed naked, making out. Our bodies awash with spit, sweat, and cum splatter, nasty to anyone else but each other. And we really did plan to go to sleep. But in that quiet, that unhurried moment of shared closeness I started kissing him. Really kissing him. There was no need for words… our tongues and lips doing the talking as they melted together. And magic happened.
Our hairy chests were sliding against each other.
Our hairy cocks were jousting against each other.
It was a feeling of physical closeness I can’t fully express. One anchored by our emotional closeness. It washed over me suddenly. It was a euphoria sparked by sex, but it had grown into so much more. No other man had ever gotten into my soul like this. I don’t know if any other person had gotten into my soul like this. Nate’s strong arms made me feel… secure.
Fuck, this guy turned me inside-out.
I wanted more. God help me, he had given me everything. Repeatedly. But I wanted more. I was hungry for feelings only he could give me. I wanted him to make me feel alive. To make my body sing.
I broke our kiss, rolled onto my stomach, and looked at him. No words necessary. Nate slid on top of me, and with the gentlest of pressure I could feel his flared cockhead slide inside me, eased by sweat and several loads of cum. God, he was IN me. I could feel my body come alive as his cockhead moved, my ass muscles relaxing as he slid in deep, massaging my innards. It was slow and deliberate, maximizing the intensity. Fire roaring up inside me. Fucking amazing.
But just as incredible was… all the rest of the physical feelings I was getting from him at the same time. I could feel his scruffy jaw against my neck and ears as his mouth slid against me. His tongue obscenely rolling against my skin. One hand running down the length of my outstretched arms, mimicking the slow pressure from his cock. The other roaming across my scalp and sweaty hair. Our naked legs rubbing together.
It was the most intimate moment we ever shared. And I was fucking lost in it.
He murmured words softy in my ear as he fucked me. Words I couldn’t make out. Words I didn’t need to hear to understand… his body was saying everything I needed. And finally, his strong hands slid beneath my body, as he enveloped me in an all-encompassing bear hug. All the while, sliding his dick inside me. My body awash in a warm, liquid light.
That fuck was so many things. When we came together, it was… well, usually it was typical, pure masculinity, bathed in masculine aggression. But this was another side of masculinity. The way he held me, the way his dick rippled through my ass… it was like… a different side of masculinity. A feeling of masculine intimacy. Masculine affection. Men don’t necessarily do nurturing all that well, but they do do something quite close: defending. Protecting. And that was what was happening. He was caring for me. Watching out for me. Sacrificing some of himself to make me feel good. I was his. But in making me his, he became mine. He was wrapping me in a uniquely masculine embrace. Guarding me. Making sure he pleasured me as I pleasured him. We were together. Fucking, and fucking together.
I’m just gonna say it. I got lost in that fuck. My whole being was… light. My spirit bound with his. And the feeling of that moment sparked something deep inside me… and sparked something deep inside my balls. Not the usual flame-thrower of cum blasting out everywhere, but… like, well music inside me.
We came together. And that left me… breathless.
After that, we finally did drift off to sleep together. It was almost like I was drunk. Falling into a sea of emotion and feeling.
I only woke up once that night, with Nate on his back and me snuggled nearly on top of him. His arms still around me. Still protecting me. God. He was like hero straight out of an ancient epic. I gently swept back a curl of tousled hair that had fallen across his forehead. His shallow breathing didn’t change. I held him tighter. And surrendered again into sleep.
The next day was one of the best of my life. We went to the spring training complex and took absolutely everything in. It was better than Disney. We blew way too much money on new gear for the upcoming season, each deciding to buy a player jersey of the guy we thought was going to make a difference this year. Of course, we busted each other’s balls over our choices. We took seats in the stadium, and chatted up the other fans. Argued about stats. Took stock of the hitting practice, and got into vehement discussions about holes on the pitching staff. The “game” that afternoon was pretty much what you’d expect as an expo game… it was really just a chance to see the guys getting into shape, working out the kinks, and dreaming about infinite possibilities.
And I couldn’t help but realize… our lives at that moment mirrored everything happening on the field. Everything was an endless progression of infinite possibilities. A blank slate in front of us. And we were swept up in it all. And it wasn’t just about baseball. Sitting in the stands, we found ourselves opening ourselves up to each other about our own hopes. Our own fears. Plans. Dreams. We never mentioned the sex… we didn’t need to. Our need for each other was a given, and permeated everything without us having to say a word.
It was a day like no other.
Finally spent, we piled back into the car, planning on grabbing some Florida seafood at a local fish shack before heading back to the hotel.
My heart was… full.
In that moment after we had slammed our car doors shut, I reached over and blocked Nate from starting the car. He looked at me. And I finally said something that had filled my mind for some time, but I never quite had been able to put into concrete words.
“Nate,” I began quietly, looking ahead toward the horizon. “I’ve… there’s something………I’ve never told you this, but… I love you.”
Nate was quiet for a beat. He turned to look straight ahead, and dropped his head. A wide grin slowly spread from his face. Then he looked back up again, out over the steering wheel. “You’re wrong, bud,” he stated simply. “You have told me.”
I turned my head, looking at him in puzzlement.
“You’ve told me every single day I’ve known you. With every word, every action, since the first day we met.” He gently gripped my thigh and looked at me. His eyes were red. I couldn’t breathe. “It took me some time to make sense of it… but now I have. That love is the reason any of this… all of this… ever happened at all. Will? I love you. I fucking love you so much my heart hurts.”
Oh, fuck.
I gave him the biggest, slobberyest kiss in human history. A kiss that steamed up our windows.
And I didn’t care who the fuck saw us.
***
It’s probably not surprising to learn we didn’t get outside to any of the other baseball events we had planned for the weekend.
It might be surprising, however, to learn that despite openly acknowledging how much we loved each other, nothing much changed for us, especially on the home front. For either of us. By mutual agreement. We… understood. We had what we needed. And for us it didn’t make sense to change anything, or make any announcements. At least for now.
Watching baseball games continued to be one of the keystones of our relationship. And so was fucking each other’s brains out. When Nate’s wife was home, we kept things slow and quiet… and when she wasn’t home, we fucking let loose. We even started scheduling baseball weekends to see the boys play away games. And that’s when we really let loose.
It seems almost perverse to say it, but Nate’s and my relationship seemed to work as a safety valve in other parts of our lives, helping us become better men, better husbands… and in time, better fathers. Maybe it was the absolute security in knowing we had each other. Maybe it was the ability to burn off built-up aggression. Or maybe it provided a chance to break out of the straightjacket of conformity, family life, and day-to-day obligations. Who knows? I’m sure psychologists could have a field day studying us.
But that’s for another time. I have to go–Nate’s wife Shannon took the kids to visit her sister in Chicago. And tonight, Nate and I are going to have his house to ourselves. For the first time in a very long time.
And I can’t fucking wait.
THE END