Meeting Jack
Mike,
It's really great to hear from you and hear how you're doing. Yeah, I quit tennis. I live in Brooklyn now. I'm married, got a kid. Life is good.
Let's get together for a drink some time. Boston isn't that far, right?
Jack
His email came a few days after I hung out with Chris. I really thought he wouldn't answer, so when I saw it in my inbox, I was suddenly excited. He didn't say much, but at least he was into the idea of catching up.
I found myself wondering about the part where he says he's married with a kid. To a man? A woman? Now that gay marriage is legal in so many places, when someone says they're married, you don't know to which gender. Not that that is a problem, but it does make things a little complicated.
It was morning and I had been doing some stretching and yoga on a mat in my living room. The whole time after reading his email, as I stretched and breathed, all I could think about was what it would be like to see him again. Fuck. I realized I felt like a twelve-year-old having a crush for the first time. But it wasn't really a crush. Or at least it wasn't just that.
I thought back a couple days to hanging out with Chris. After we fucked, he stayed the night. It was really sweet. I really liked his boyish energy and his insatiable sex drive. We fucked twice more that night between naps and snacks. He took two of my loads and swallowed them. He liked cum as much as I was discovering I did. In the morning, he got up before me and made breakfast and brought it into bed. I hadn't done that before with anyone.
But I worried that he was totally falling for me. It's not like that's a bad thing. But I was concerned that I couldn't go along for the ride. At least not yet. Being with a guy? That was a new concept for me. Having sex was one thing and I was totally down with it now that I realized how much I liked it. But a relationship? Love?
I thought about Seamus and Brad. They were clearly in something together and despite the complications of sex, they seemed to have this emotional bond. You could just feel it. I admired it. In fact, I realized, I was a bit envious. I had had that with women and maybe someday I would again. I thought about my ex. She was really cool and we had a good thing together, but my lifestyle didn't work for her. And I remembered that when it ended, I was hurt. I was in pain. I had a lot of cheap sex with all kinds of women but obviously it didn't help.
Now that guys were part of my story it felt even more complicated. And that led me to wondering again why I was so driven to see Jack. I knew it wasn't because I had some revelation that I loved the guy. No way. But I realized that it felt like unfinished business. Really important unfinished business. When I finally had that thought, I felt better. It made sense.
I finished my yoga, showered and went to the tennis school. I had a bunch of students that morning and I didn't get a break until one. When I finally got out off the training court, I found Brad in the coffee room. He was eating a sandwich a reading a book.
“Hey, Brad.”
He looked up at me and slapped me on the ass as I walked by. “Hey. How are you? You seem tired.”
“I am. I've been seeing a lot of Chris.”
“You're all fucked out! Poor Mike.”
“Fuck you. But yeah, I'm beat. And I just had five lessons in a row. Who makes these schedules, anyway?”
“Not me. So I hear Chris is looking to take over from Susan. That might be cool.”
“Yeah, it would. Keep your paws off him, if he does.”
“A little jealous, are we?”
“Not really. He can fuck whoever he wants to...and he will. Trust me, he will.”
Brad chewed on his sandwich for a minute and I sat down opposite him. He swallowed and said, “So Seamus tells me you're thinking of connecting with this guy from your past?”
“Yeah. Jack Foster. Do you remember him?”
“Dude. Sure. He was an amazing player. He totally flattened me a few times when I was a teenager. Whatever happened to him? He could have been a top seed.”
“I know, right? He's a lawyer now. Married, a kid.”
“To a guy?”
“I have no idea. He sure liked to suck cock, so I imagine to a guy.”
Brad grinned at me. I felt annoyed. “What?”
“Oh, just imagining some guy with your cock in his mouth.”
“Well you've been that guy, remember?”
“That's what I mean.”
He looked down at his sandwich as if he was being all demure. He looked up again and said, “Meet me in the storage locker in a five minutes. I want to show you something.”
I knew Brad well enough to know what that meant. He got up and left the coffee room. I waited, sipping my coffee then decided I could use some distraction.
The storage locker was in a little hallway off the practice courts and was hardly ever used. Well, it was used for sex, mostly. Tennis teachers are horn dogs, men and women. I once caught Susan in there fucking one of her adult students. Not very smart of her, but she sure seemed to be enjoying herself. And who was I to object? I was going in there to meet one of my students. Sue me.
So I got there and went in and shut the door. Brad was sitting on a mat that was kept there. He had taken his pants off. I said, “You're kind of eager today...”
“Yeah, well, Seamus has been busy and I'm horny. Get over here.”
I slid my tack pants off and then my briefs. I came up to him and he grabbed my already hard dick and licked the head a bunch of times. He pulled me closer and swallowed me. Then he pulled off and said, “Get down here.”
I got down on the mat and he lay down but reached up and turned me so my ass was facing him and I was looking down at his big dick. I leaned down and took his balls in my mouth and then I realized what he wanted. He pulled my legs back and I aimed my cock down and slid into his mouth. Sixty-nine is really fun but I had never done it with a guy. Really fucking fun.
I started to thrust down and he pushed up, his cock hitting my throat. I realized it felt a bit awkward, so I pulled us both so we were on our sides. That way I could suck him and not have to worry about trying to hold myself up. I started to move my hips and he did the same. I loved the feeling of his cock on my tongue and mine on his at the same time. It took some co-ordination, but soon we had nice thing going.
I held his cock at the base and tongued my way down his length. I let go and grabbed his balls and gave them a pull just as I felt at least two of his fingers go in my ass. I moaned into his cock and pushed forward hard, choking him on my dick. He didn't spit me out, but went deeper. I put both hands on his big muscular butt and pulled him toward me, feeling his cock go deeper, all the way into my throat and I had to breath deeply to keep from spitting him out.
It was his turn to moan and I pushed his ass harder, trying to get him to fuck my face which he finally did, and I did the same. I was getting distracted by all the sensations in my cock and the rest of my body and I could barely concentrate on his dick so I let him do the work. He fucked deep and I did gag, but let him keep going. I put my hand on his cock and he fucked both my hand and my mouth and I could tell this was doing the trick. I wanted this to end because I had a student in half an hour.
He thrust harder and faster and he stopped moving his mouth on my cock so he could concentrate on his coming orgasm which I could tell was close. Faster and harder and he started to whimper into my cock and then his dick erupted, spurting cum into my mouth which drooled in my throat, drooled out the sides of my mouth. I swallowed hungrily and felt a rush of energy and fucking amazing pleasure rush from my balls to the rest of me and I blasted cum into his mouth. He growled and swallowed it all.
I licked the last of his cum off the end of his cock and sat up, swallowing. Brad sat up and leaned forward and kissed me. I could taste myself on his tongue. He said, “Wow. You're getting good at that.”
“What can I say? I discovered I like cum. As much as you, apparently.”
He laughed and messed my hair with his hand. “You're cute. I've always thought so.”
“Really?” I was surprised.
“Yeah. Not that you're cuter than Seamus. Don't get any ideas.”
“I wouldn't dream of it. You two are really in it, aren't you? Like all the way?”
“I guess we are. I think we're figuring it out. I love the guy. What can I say?”
He was so open it was almost a shock. I guess I had never heard a man say he loved another man. Out loud. But it was really nice to hear. I kissed him and said, “That's awesome. I've always liked you two and the thought of you together make me happy. Really.”
Brad's gave me a look and I got the impression he was close to tears. He said, “Thanks, Mike. That means a lot.”
Again, I wondered why I hadn't said this kind of thing before. I suppose it was part of the whole straight guy bullshit I had been inhabiting. Nothing vulnerable here, ma'm. Fuck that.
We tidied our clothes, wiped our faces – there was a big glob of Brad's cum on my cheek – and, when the coast was clear, I emerged as if I was just looking for something, and Brad came out a few minutes later. We got back to work.
--
When I got home, I sent Jack an email. Again I felt nervous. I realized I imagined he was somehow more mature than I was, like he was the adult. Strange. I knew that wasn't true.
Hey Jack. I'm going to come into NYC on the weekend. You want to grab that drink? Saturday?
Mike.
I pressed send and freaked out. This was really happening. I walked away from my laptop and made dinner and poured myself a big g & t. I wished the Chris was with me and I thought about calling him, but I realized I had to deal with this on my own. It would be great to see Chris again – fuck Chris again – but it would just be a distraction.
My laptop pinged and there was his response. He thought it was a great idea and gave me the name of a restaurant in Williamsburg. Six on Saturday. Fuck.
Three days to get really nervous. And I did. I threw myself into my work, I met with my trainer and we worked on my very unpredictable serve. I ate too much, had too many g & t's, I fucked Seamus. I fucked Brad. They both fucked me. But I was still distracted and nervous.
On Saturday I decided to take the train, feeling that four hours to read my book or listen to music was better than braving weekend traffic in November. All I managed to do on the train was drink too much coffee and, strangely, sleep.
When I finally walked up to The Samuelson Grill in Williamsburg I was kind of a wreck. My nice white shirt was rumpled, my new jeans felt way too tight and my hair was probably a mess. I took a deep breath and walked in. Nice place. Lots of wood and mismatched vintage furniture. Quiet music. I spotted him right away. He was sitting at a little table by the window and he was staring at me. I managed to grin and walked over. He stood up and, just as awkwardly I thought, stuck out his hand.
“Mike. Wow. Here you are.” He sat down and gulped from the glass of water in front of him.
I sat down, tossing my jacket onto the window ledge beside us. It had all kinds of old teapots and pitchers and mugs on it that were clearly picked up at garage sales. The detritus of middle America.
“Jack...this feels wild, right? It's been fifteen years?”
“Yeah, about that.”
I was struck by his neat, professional-looking hair. His nice shirt, his wedding ring...
“You want a drink?”
I said a little too quickly, a little too loudly, “Fuck yeah...sorry. I mean, sure.”
Jack laughed. I remembered his laugh. The way his eyes lit up when he laughed. I remembered that even from the first time he sucked me off. It felt like a thousand years ago. “I'm kind of nervous, too. Let's get a drink. Martini?”
That was a dangerous gambit at this hour of day, but I thought: what the hell. “Sure. Why not?”
The very hip waiter took our order. We watched him go. I wondered if we were thinking the same thing or not. I was thinking: nice ass on him.
He brought the martinis and we toasted to old times. I wondered what old times Jack was thinking about. I decided to get this conversation going after taking a big swig of my drink.
“So what made you leave tennis?”
Jack looked startled for a second, then said, “Wow. Right to the heart of it all.”
I felt bad, so I said, “Sorry...I guess I'm a bit nervous seeing you after all these years.”
He looked guilty and he said, “No, it's a fair question. The short answer is I got a girl pregnant and I had to get a job and get married. End of story.”
To say I was stunned doesn't quiet cover all the things I was feeling. Pregnant? A girl? What? But I managed to say, “That's a lot, Jack. So you had to give up tennis, I guess.”
He looked truly pained. “Yeah. I had to.”
I felt a lot for him all of a sudden. I reached across and put my hand on his wrist. He moved his arm away, but I could tell he was touched. I said, “I'm really sorry.”
In response he mumbled, “Thanks.”
I decided to change the subject and we talked about my career and how he ended up in law school and his kid who he really seemed proud of. A little boy named Fred. He ten how and doing really well.
There was a pause and our waiter brought us some wine that Jack had ordered, along with a pizza. We ate more or less in silence for a while, sipping wine and I think trying not to look at each other. There was a subject that was floating around our heads that neither one of us seemed willing to talk about. Finally, putting down his wine glass, Jack asked, “So...any relationships?”
I had to think a minute for a way of answering that question. “Uh...a while ago I was in one for a few years. She broke it off because of tennis. Too much travelling. It kind of sucked.
He looked sincerely sorry and said, “That's too bad. No one since?”
At first I said, “Not really...” then I stopped and took a big swig of the really nice red we were drinking. I cleared my throat and said, “But recently I've...well...kind of discovered I'm bi.”
Jack gave me a look for a second, but he didn't respond right away. Then he said, “Listen...what you and I did at tennis school that summer...that was just teenage stuff, right?”
It was my turn to be speechless. It sure as hell didn't feel like teenage stuff. Instead I said, not looking at him, “Well...I think I realized recently that for me it wasn't just teenage stuff.”
I wanted to say that it didn't seem like it was for him, either, but I thought that would be going too far. Jack looked really uncomfortable. He put his napkin down and fumbled in his pocket for what I realized was his wallet. “Listen, the past is the past. I'm glad you're discovering yourself, but I've got to go.”
“What? Did I say something?”'
He looked really uncomfortable and a little sad. “No, Mike. Let's just call it a day. I'll get this. It's the least I can do.”
For what? I didn't know what was happening. But he clearly didn't want to be around me. Fuck. He was like a wild animal that had reached its limit of taming. He walked over to our waiter and handed him a credit card. When the bill was paid, he came back and picked up his jacket. He looked at me for a moment, then said, “See you.” And walked out of the restaurant.
I sat there for a few minutes, finishing my wine. That was not what I imagined would happen. Not in a million years. I got up and walked out into the chilly street. It was still early – like seven – so I went to the train station and got on the first train back to Boston.
When I got off the train, I called Chris.
“Hey Chris...can I come over?”
He sounded happy to hear from me as always. “Sure, Mike! That would be nice. I'm just chilling here watching a movie.”
I went to his new place which was a little studio apartment not too far from the tennis school. I walked up to the third floor and he was there, the door open, a glass of wine in his hand which he handed to me. “You didn't sound so great, Mike. Come in.”
He took my hand and led me to his sofa. He took my coat off and I sat down, taking a big swig of wine. He sat beside me, a look of concern on his face. “What's happening?”
I told him the whole sad story. He listened and when I had done, he pulled me down so my head was in his lap. That felt great. He stroked my hair and said, “That's just not on. After all these years and he couldn't even stay to talk. Shitty, mate.”
He leaned down and kissed me. That felt even nicer. I kissed him back and soon he had moved down and joined me, our legs intertwining. He ran his hands up and down my back and slowly, gently, undid the buttons of my shirt and pulled it off. He opened my pants and slid them down and I kicked them off. I was naked and sort of hard. He pulled off his sweatshirt and his track pants and we just lay there together.
After a few minutes, he moved down and started to very slowly, with lots of suction and stroking, suck my cock. He gave the end a lot of attention, using his lips to massage it, his tongue lapping at the little cleft and I could feel myself give him all kinds of precum which he slurped up. He pushed me so I was on my back and he got to his knees and really got to work. He bathed my balls with his mouth, and jacked me, then still sliding his hand at the base, moved his mouth up and down, sucking and tonguing.
It came slowly and gradually, but I could feel something happening, some sort of growing energy and this little fire started in my balls and I said, “Fuck, Chris...I'm going to blow...” and I did. All of a sudden I reached a critical mass and my body seemed to burst, and my cock started to pump out cum which he gulped and swallowed. He seemed hungry for it. He pulled off my cock and watched as a long stream ran down the head which he licked up and he moved to my mouth and fed it to me.
We kissed for a while, then I wanted his, I wanted his cum, so I said, “Get up into my face, Chris. Feed me your cock.”
He grinned and got up and straddled my face so his balls were sitting my neck and his cock was angled above me. He leaned forward and was able to slid the head of cock into my mouth and he jacked himself. A long stream of juice oozed out and then that was followed by, with a choking sound from him, ropes and sloppy ropes of cum that coated my tongue which I swallowed. It felt like some kind of resolution. Not the one I expected with Jack, even though I had no idea what that would have looked like, but when Chris was done, when I had swallowed the last of his cum and he had settled in behind me, wrapping his strong, lean arms around my torso and tucking his chin into the back of my neck, it felt like a resolution.
Just before I fell asleep, I heard Chris say, really softly, “I really like you, Mike. I really fucking like you.”
I didn't know how to think about what he said, but it felt really good, and I was able to drift off into oblivion.
