The reality of my grandmother’s passing struck me when the lawyer handed me the keys to her house. I sat at the table with my sister and two cousins as I fought not to break down. I had seen her the previous Christmas, full of life and as vibrant as ever, and then six weeks ago came the news that she was ill. I came to see her twice. Two weeks later, she was gone. Now I sat in a room filled with animosity as members of my family grumbled that it wasn’t fair that she gave me the house.
What no one at that table knew, is that the company I had worked for since college had just collapsed into bankruptcy. I had some savings, but I was jobless. My belongings were in the car. Fortunately, I didn’t collect stuff, so except for the TV, a Blu-ray player, some DVDs, and a few books, the rest of my belongings were my clothes and a box of pots and pans.
I left the lawyer’s office without so much as a good-bye from my sister. I drove to the next town and easily found Elm Street. I had been here a million times. I spent summers with my grandmother, even while I was at college, I would visit her. I was welcomed there. She loved me, understood me, cared about me. A gentle mist began as the sky darkened slightly. I pulled into the driveway. I stopped the car in front of the closed garage door. The house had a single car garage, and I was certain that my grandmother’s car was still inside.
I took the luggage from the front seat and stood at the front door. The yard needed work. I wish I had done more when I had visited that last time. I turned back to the door and unlocked it. I began to sob. It’s not what my grandmother would have wanted. I calmed myself back down and went in.
The house seemed to be much darker than I remembered. I locked the door behind me and went upstairs. Turning to the right, I made my way to the room that had always been my bedroom. For years it had a simple full-sized bed and an old dresser. The wallpaper was faded, and old brown curtains covered the one window that looked over to the house next door. I walked to the window and moved the curtain to the side. Glancing through the small space I’d just made, I saw Evan’s old window. I looked down into the yard where I first saw him when I was ten.
I remembered going outside to meet him, another kid my age. He told me his name was Evan Walsh, and he was also ten years old. We played together almost every day during the month that I was at my grandmother’s. He showed me the special places in the woods that ran on the other side of the creek that flowed behind the houses on the south side of Elm Street.
When I was eleven, I spent the entire month of July there. We were old enough to venture downtown, and we ate hot dogs at the counter in the old drugstore. We played along the old railroad tracks that ran just west of downtown. That Christmas, I brought him a present when we came to visit my grandmother for those two days. There had been snow on the ground, and we took pictures of each other with the camera he received from Santa. I let him know that he was my best friend, and he told me I was his.
There was no summer vacation for me when I was twelve. I had been sick with the flu right after new years. Missing a lot of school meant that I had to make up for it during summer. I wrote Evan a few letters, and he wrote one short one back. He admitted he wasn’t much for writing.
My summer vacation when I was thirteen gave me six weeks at my grandmother’s house. I helped her bake cookies and pies, and she took Evan and me to pick strawberries right off the plant. Along with our hikes in the woods, hot dogs downtown, and borrowing books from the library. Evan shared a secret.
During a previous stay at his cousin’s, he had seen an older cousin masturbate. He told me all about it and admitted he had tried it himself. “My dick gets really hard whenever I think about it, and when I rub it for a while, I pee this whitish stuff, and it feels really good,” he said, and since we were alone in the basement of his house, he pulled his pants down to show me.
I was amazed to see another boy’s penis. It was almost five inches long and very straight. I reached down and held it in my hand. I didn’t think to ask permission, and I heard Evan breath kind of funny as I wrapped my fingers around it. His was different from mine. While we were both circumcised, mine was a little longer and a little thicker. I was fascinated by the difference.
“So you just move your fingers back and forth like this?” I asked as I manipulated his erection.”
He made little gasping noises and white liquid spurted from the end of his hard dick. “Wow,” he whispered. “That felt better than when I did it.”
I smiled to know I’d made him feel good.
He went on to tell me a bigger secret. “I got a book from the library; I didn’t check it out, but I read it while I was there. It showed pictures of people doing things. I want to try one of them.”
“OK,” I answered rather innocently, but I was intrigued, and I felt a stirring in my penis when he told me. I unzipped my pants and pulled my penis out. It got hard right away.
Evan got on his knees and put my penis in his mouth. I was grossed out until he closed his mouth around it. He moved his mouth back and forth. I felt myself get harder than I’ve ever been. I felt myself get dizzy as my dick squirted.
Catching it in his mouth, Evan swirled it around with his tongue and swallowed it. “It’s salty tasting.” He licked a drop from the tip of my penis.
“I read that the stuff that comes out of your dick can make a girl have a baby.”
“How?” I demanded to know.
“Instead of a dick, she has this hole, and you stick your dick in there. Your dick pees this white stuff into her and a baby starts to grow. That’s what the book said.”
I caught myself smiling as I remembered my first sex-ed lesson with Evan. I continued to smile as I remembered how we got a lot better at oral sex with one another. We learned about anal sex, but neither of us was willing to venture that far.
I suddenly felt a pang of sadness when I remembered receiving a letter from him saying that he was being sent to live with his aunt. We were sixteen, and his uncle was very sick and she needed help. I hadn’t seen him since, and a letter he wrote just before high school graduation was the last I’d received.
The clearest image of him in my head was when we were fifteen, just after a sex session. He stood in front of a rumpled sleeping bag, tall, extremely skinny, with his six-inch sharpie marker thin cock sticking straight out at me and rumpled blond hair on his head. His emerald green eyes always seemed alive and knowing. I didn’t know it at the time, but I had fallen in love with him. But I didn’t really understand who I was and who I would eventually be.
That night I had a fitful sleep and I woke up several times. In a dream, I relived the time that Evan had fallen in the woods and cut his head. He had bled at the time, but in the dream, everything was covered in blood. Just before six in the morning, I got up, threw on a t-shirt and some running shorts. I made a cup of tea and went outside. I figured I could make a mental list of the things that needed to be done.
The sun was not up yet, but it was fairly light. Most of the yard just needed a mulching mower to get it under control. The flower beds were another story. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do about those. There was a rickety wooden fence between my new home and the Walsh house. I examined it, and I was sure that two of the posts were rotten. I had just walked to the end of the fence nearest the road when an old Chevy truck pulled into the Walsh driveway. The side of the truck indicated it belonged to the city.
Someone got out of the rear passenger door, and the truck backed out of the driveway. The man standing there was just over six feet tall and thin as a rail. Dirty blond hair reached almost to his shoulders was covered with an even dirtier baseball cap. He’d been working somewhere with dirt. I knew instantly that it was Evan. He stood frozen to the spot and stared at me.
My heart began to beat a little faster, and I hurried over to him.
“It can’t be you,” Disbelief changed to realization. His green eyes seemed to mist up.
I threw my arms around him. We were about the same height, but I was sure I had eighty pounds of muscle on him.
“I’m filthy.”
“I know, but I don’t care. How long have you been here?”
“I’ve been living back here for about a month. I got a job with the city.”
“But I talked to your dad a few months back, and he said that no one knew where you were, but he thought he remembered going to your funeral.”
“Yeah, well, we need to talk, Tryst.”
I felt a pang in my heart. Only Evan called me Tryst, and I hadn’t heard him say it since I was fifteen. My mother said it was vulgar, and I should insist he call me Trystan, but I loved it.
“I want to hear and know everything,” I told him.
“Let me shower and change clothes. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”
It seemed to take forever for him to come over, and in that time, I realized that I was acting as though I were sixteen again. I secretly wanted him to touch me. I’d always felt so good when he did, and I wanted to feel that way again, as unrealistic as I knew that was. We were both in our mid-twenties now. I’d done a few guys in college and had a couple of unsuccessful dates. We were just playing around as kids, and for all I knew, he could have a wife somewhere.
A knock at the door made my heart beat faster. I was sitting at the bottom of the stairs, so I only had to stand up and take a step to open the door. There he stood in an old t-shirt and some cutoffs. His blond hair was tucked behind his ears and as straight as a poker. His emerald eyes made me realize what I had been missing all those years. He wasn’t just my best friend, but I also knew that the chances he felt the same way were as slim as he was.
Evan smiled. “Are you just going to stare at me, or are you going to let me in? You’re probably shocked at how well I clean up.”
Go for it, I told myself, but I chickened out. “I guess I’m amazed at how long your hair is. You used to dog guys with long hair. Come in.”
“I just don’t want to pay forty dollars to have it cut. Who does yours?”
“A guy where I used to work. He did it for twenty-five. Want me to get some scissors?” I laughed.
“Why not?” He stepped closer to me.
“I’ve missed you terribly,” I said with a tremble in my voice.
I saw him bite his lower lip. “There are some things I have to tell you before I tell you what I’m thinking and feeling.”
I bit my upper lip. “Serious talk.”
“Very,” he said.
“Let’s sit at the kitchen table. Do you want any coffee or tea?”
“A shot of whiskey is more what I need.”
“I think there is some on the cabinet next to the refrigerator. Let me look.”
I remembered that my grandmother kept some there for special occasions, and I poured some for Evan. “Any ice.”
“No. This is good.” He tossed it back in one gulp. “If I weren’t such a chickenshit pussy, I wouldn’t have needed that.”
I sat at the table and touched my fingertips to his. “I don’t believe that.”
He pulled his hand back and took a breath.
“That last summer that you and I were here, my father heard us in the basement. He didn’t say anything, but a few weeks later...” Evan bit his lip again and released a huge sigh. “I was in my room and I was finger fucking myself. And I was saying ‘stick it in me Tryst’ and stuff like that, and my father came in. He started smacking me, and he grabbed a baseball bat. If my mother hadn’t come in, I think he would have killed me. They sent me to live with my aunt and uncle. They were Pentecostal.” He looked at me, and his eyes filled with tears. “It was horrible. My father would come to visit and he would tell me that if he saw you near me, he would kill you. He said he might kill you just because. I was so scared. I didn’t even want to write to you in case they found out. They even picked a girl for me to marry, but she ran away before the wedding.
“When I had a chance to run away, I did. I went down to Texas and got a job working on an oil rig. I started to call home to talk to my mom. She told me it wasn’t safe to come back. My father’s sick now. My mother told him that I had died and she told him I’m one of her nephews, and I’ve come to help her. He’s losing his mind, some kind of cancer that’s spread to his brain.
“In the past month, I’ve looked back at how I handled things. I was a coward. I could have contacted your grandmother and found you. Instead, I hid the truth from the other roughnecks while at the same time trying to find someone who meant as much to me as you do.”
“You’re not a coward, Evan. You’re certainly not a pussy. You’re a survivor.”
“It seems weird that we’d both end up back here.”
I reached out for his hand, and this time he gave it to me. “Some things are meant to be.” I stood up and stepped closer to him. I leaned forward. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for years.” His eyes told me that he wanted the same thing, so I pressed my lips against his. As we kissed, he stood up and pressed our bodies together. Our tongues explored our mouths, and as his hardness grew, it pressed into mine.
His hand slipped down and brushed against the tent I was making in my running shorts. “It’s bigger than I remember.”
“Because, happily, you’re here, and so am I.”
“I want you to fuck me with it. Today. Now. Will you?”
“Yes, oh, yes.” I led him upstairs to my bed. He kissed me again and pulled his shorts and underwear off. I removed his shirt. His chest had the same straight blond hair that covered his head. I could still count his ribs. His stiff dick was now almost seven inches long but only slightly larger around. My fingers could still encircle it. He was without a doubt the hottest man I’d ever met. How I wanted him!
He turned around and pulled apart his cheeks. I had placed some lube under the pillow the night before in case I wanted to jack off. Now, I wet his hole and my dick. I guided the tip of my cock against his hole and pushed it into him. He pushed back onto me.
“Fuck, Tryst, that’s better than I ever imagined.” He began to buck back on me. I grabbed his shoulders to stabilize myself. His ass held my cock so tightly that I was worried I would fall over. Then I felt the urge build within me.
“Slow down; I’m getting close.”
“Shoot your load inside me; I want it.”
I tried not to, but I couldn’t resist his fucking, and I pushed myself deep into him and came. His hands reached farther back and grabbed my hips before we fell forward onto the bed.
“Keep pumping me.”
My dick was still hard. Years of wanting this man drove me on. I kissed his back as I thrust into him.
“Turn me over. I want to watch you,” he insisted.
I flipped him onto his back, and he tilted up his ass, and I saw his tiny hole oozing my cum. Oh, how that turned me on. I pushed my cock into him again. His emerald eyes disappeared as they rolled back.
“Fuck,” he hissed.
When his eyes opened, they were filled with tears. I leaned forward and licked his chin as I continued to piston in and out of him.
“I fucking love you, Tryst. Give me all of you,” he shouted and I came again inside him.
I was breathing heavily, my diaphragm and abs worked to draw enough air into my lungs. I looked at him. He was smiling. I moved down onto the bed and rolled him onto me. I took the lube and prepared my hole for lovemaking. As I lubed his dick, I remembered the first time I touched it. I had known then that something special existed between us. I pulled my legs farther up.
“I need you to breed me, Evan. I need it as I’ve never needed anything.”
Evan leaned forward and kissed me before adjusting his erection and penetrating me. I gasped at how large his cock felt. He moved in and out with accuracy. Being fucked by him was pure bliss, and when he shot into me, I could feel a warmth and pressure that seemed to go all the way to my heart. He positioned himself next to me and kissed my ear. “You’ve got muscles everywhere,” he said. “You are one hot fuck, and one fucking hot dude.”
I leaned over and kissed him. “And you, you are one hot fuck. And as soon as you get your haircut, you’ll be a fucking hot dude, too.”
He laughed. “I think I’ll let it grow a little longer.”
