JiminQueens2's blog

The reception hall was crowded and dimly lit. Some two hundred middle-aged men and women were milling around, drinking, talking, reminiscing. It was Charlie Simpson Memorial High School’s Class of 1986 thirty-year reunion, and the party was in full swing. Shrill screams of “Donna!” and “Judy!” and lower-pitched calls of “Tom, you old son of a gun!” and “Keith! Buddy!” were echoing back and forth around the hall. Old friendships that somehow had fallen by the wayside were being rekindled, and a good time was being had by all—aided, of course, by the open bar.

Over by a wall of ceiling to floor windows that, during the day, would provide a fantastic view of the beach beyond the terrace, two men didn’t share in their peers’ boisterous revelry. Both men were well-built and trim, with obviously solid muscle visible even under the well-tailored suits they wore. They were looking hard at each other, as if trying to reconcile the face in front of them with a face they had known thirty years before.

Finally, one of them spoke up. “Johnny Lopez?”

“Ryan Spagnola?”

Identification had been achieved; the two men relaxed. Smiling, they stepped forward and exchanged a firm handshake. “It’s good to see you again, man,” Johnny said. He had dark hair liberally streaked with white, dark eyes, high cheekbones, and a strong chin. “I haven’t seen you since we graduated—at least, I think I haven’t. You didn’t make it to the last couple of reunions, right?”

Ryan shook his head. If there was any gray in his flaxen hair, the contrast wasn’t enough to see it in the dim light. His features, thirty years before, could have been described as “boy next door”. “No,” he said sourly. “My wife didn’t want to. She absolutely hated her high school experience and she didn’t or wouldn’t understand why anyone would even tolerate theirs, much less like it. But since she’s now my ex-wife, thank God, I thought ‘what the hell’ this time around.”

“Good for you,” Johnny smiled. “And I hope I’m not out of line, but congratulations on losing the dead weight.”

“Not out of line at all,” Ryan smiled back. “And thank you. What about you? Is your wife here?”

The smile faded from Johnny’s face. Mutely, he held up his left hand. Even in the dimly lit room, Ryan could see that the band around his ring finger was solid black. “Oh, man…I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” Johnny said. “It was a while ago. It still hurts, but it doesn’t hurt as badly as losing her did.”

“Let’s grab a beer,” Ryan suggested, “then go out to the terrace and catch up.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

The two men made their way to the bar, where the harried bartender quickly poured them two drafts on tap and didn’t even wait for a tip. They made their way to the terrace exit. It was a little chilly outside, being so close to the water, and only a handful of people were braving the cold. But neither man showed any signs of discomfort, and soon they were leaning over the railing, sipping their beers.

“So what have you been up to the last thirty years?” Ryan asked.

“Construction,” Johnny answered. “Started with a company right out of high school, and I’ve been with them ever since. The old man finally made me his partner about ten-twelve years ago. You?”

“Congratulations! I’m in sales, so I travel a lot. It’s more a pain in the ass than it used to be, though – loved it when I was in my twenties and thirties, and even a few years ago. Don’t know what’s changed.”

“Maybe because up until a few years ago, I’m guessing, your ex wasn’t your ex?” Johnny said slyly.

Ryan stared at him, then began to laugh. “Dude. That’s it. That’s got to be it. You are a fucking genius.” He paused, then continued, “But then, you were always one of the smart kids. Straight-As, honor roll, all of it. What made you go into construction instead of going to college?”

“Money”, Johnny said bluntly. “And not money as in ‘I’m making more than I would have if I’d become a lawyer or an investment banker or some shit like that’. Money as in, ‘I was absolutely broke and completely on my own and I needed to find a job fast if I didn’t want to be homeless’.”

“What do you mean, ‘on your own’ and ‘homeless’? What happened to your parents? Did they kick you out or something?”

“Nothing happened to them, and they didn’t kick me out, I left.” Johnny took a long swig of his beer and stared out at the darkened beach for a long minute, while Ryan forced himself not to push. Finally, Johnny decided to tell all. “When I was eighteen, some money that my grandfather had left for me in trust came to me outright. It was just enough to pay the first three months rent on a basement apartment on the other end of town from where my parents and I lived. So at my birthday party, I announced that I was moving out and that I would never speak to them again.”

Ryan choked and gagged as the beer went down the wrong pipe; he started coughing and spluttering. When he finally gained control of himself, he asked, “But…why? What did they do to you?”

“Religion,” Johnny said bitterly. “And not the ‘do unto others’ type of religion. Not even the ‘go to church on Sunday and keep your nose clean the rest of the week’ kind of religion. The ‘pray every day, have as little contact with the outside world as possible, and turn the other cheek because yours is the Kingdom of Heaven’ type of bullshit. If it weren’t for the fact that there were nine of us and my dad didn’t make anywhere near enough money to send us to religious school—because God forbid Mama should work outside the home—we wouldn’t have gone to public school.”

“Was that why you never tried out for any of the teams?” Ryan asked. “None of the clubs, either, now that I think about it?”

“Exactly,” Johnny said. “My parents wouldn’t let me. I had to come straight home from school, every day, without fail, and forget having any friends over. I was never allowed to have friends, even though I got along with pretty much everybody.” He smirked, and added, “Except you, of course.”

Ryan grinned ruefully. “Yeah, I did kind of give you a lot of shit, didn’t I?”

“You certainly did. Almost every day for the better part of three years.”

“And you just took it. That was what I couldn’t understand. I would say shit to you, even shoved you once or twice, but you just took it and didn’t respond.”

“Like I said, religion.” Ryan winced at the level of bitterness in Johnny’s voice. “All that ‘turn the other cheek’ bullshit. My parents drilled that into me nonstop from the time I was five years old, and it made me literally incapable of standing up for myself. And I hated your guts, not only because you kept picking at me every damn day, but because it was for something I didn’t even do.”

“I don’t even remember what it was,” Ryan said.

“You came up to me one day in ninth grade and said if I called you ‘Fag-nola” again, you’d beat the shit out of me,” Johnny told him. “I had absolutely no idea what you were talking about. Not only wouldn’t I have said something like that about you, but I didn’t even know what a ‘fag’ was at that point. But Jesus fucking said turn the other cheek, so for almost three years, ninth grade, tenth grade, most of eleventh, with you picking at me the whole time, I kept turning it and turning it.”

“Oh shit, now I remember,” Ryan gasped. “It was in the second floor boys’ room. I’d gone in to take a piss and splash some water on my face because I wasn’t feeling so hot, and you were already in there. And we just stood there, staring at each other.”

“And before I could remember my parents or Jesus or any of that religious shit, I challenged you to a fight after school,” Johnny said.

“And I immediately told you that you were going to lose real fast,” Ryan smirked.

“And I told you that I was going to make you cry in front of the whole school,” Johnny smirked back.

“And then fucking Old Man Hartigan had to come into the bathroom and we had to pretend nothing was happening.”

“I literally could have killed him for that, I remember.”

The two men were laughing, but there was an odd undercurrent to their laughter now. It was as if they both realized that something important was unresolved between them that needed to be set to rights.

Four fists were raised. The two massive men stalked each other in the narrow alley. Mike made the first move, throwing a jab-cross combination that Jack easily evaded, just as Mike had expected him to. They shadowboxed, bobbing and weaving and looking for any opening to do some damage.

Mike threw another jab that feel well short, and got a short jab back in return. He threw another, but this time Jack stepped forward and threw a combination of his own that landed hard on Mike’s face. Mike’s eyes widened in surprise at the power behind the other man’s blows. For the first time, he realized that he was in for a real fight.

He lunged forward, throwing punches, driving Jack backwards, and Jack had to step to the side to avoid being trapped against the wall. Mike followed after him, and threw a hard left that made Jack’s face contort in pain. Jack shook his head as if to try to clear the cobwebs, and Mike waded in, throwing hooks to the body that drew very satisfying grunts from the other man, and a solid cross to the face that sent Jack spinning around to land face first into a huge pile of reeking garbage.

“Just where you belong, fucker,” Mike said mockingly, then spat on his fallen opponent. As the liquid hit Jack’s bare back, the other man’s body stiffened, and he pushed himself up and turned to face Mike again. The look of rage on his face would have sent most people running for their lives, but Mike just smiled. Obviously this asshole wanted some more, and Mike was going to give it to him.

They squared off again, but this time as Mike threw a jab, Jack’s hand shot up, caught his wrist, and pulled hard. Off balance, Mike staggered forward, and a left hook caught him right under the ribs! He doubled over, gasping for breath, and Jack grabbed his head with both hands and brought a knee up right into his face!

Mike’s head snapped back, and he felt Jack’s hands grab both of his ears, and then pain exploded right behind his eyes. Headbutt, the fucker must have headbutted him. His nose started throbbing and he knew it must be broken, and he staggered back, the stars still dancing in front of his eyes.

His back hit the wall, and Jack was right there, throwing punches into Mike’s abs. Mike was still stunned from the headbutt and couldn’t tighten his gut the way he normally did when taking a gut punch, and Jack’s were driving deep into him, driving the wind from his body, doubling him over, wheezing. Then Jack threw an uppercut that caught Mike right on the chin, snapping his back and making his skull impact the bricks behind him. His legs gave out and he sank to the pavement. He felt something wet hit his face, and heard Jack say, “I’m going to go finish my workout. Remember who the alpha is in this gym.”

Fury gave him new life. He opened his swelling eyes to see Jack put his t shirt in his bag and zip it up. Scrambling to his feet, he lunged at Jack from behind, tackling the other man and bringing him down to the ground!

Jack tried to roll onto his back to face Mike, but Mike wasn’t letting him. Jack only made it to his side, blood dripping from Mike’s nose onto Jack’s chest, before Mike had his arms pinioned over his head with one hand; leverage and gravity were on his side. His other hand…Mike smiled.

He began to pound Jack’s face, punch after vicious punch after merciless punch, not stopping until he saw a beautiful, wide cut begin to open under Jack’s right eye. He rolled Jack completely onto his back and straddled him, raining hard, nonstop punches, down on his fallen enemy.

But Jack wasn’t done yet. His legs snaked up and caught Mike around the head, and brought him down onto his back with a tremendous impact. Mike barely had a chance to register the reversal before Jack was on him, his hands going for Mike’s throat. Mike slammed the butt of his hand into Jack’s cheek, and the cut grew a little wider. With his other hand, he grabbed a handful of Jack’s hair, and the two men began to roll back and forth across the alley, punching and headbutting each other all the while.

Finally, Mike, thrown onto on his back, got a leg between his body and Jack’s and kicked the other man off of him. He slowly got to his feet, his body aching from the abuse it had taken on top of the hard workout he’d already done. His vision was still puffy, but he thought that Jack was taking just a long to get up, but the fury in his eyes was obvious even to Mike’s swelling ones.

The two men sprang at each other again, leading with their fists and their chins, and savage, powerful punches found their way to their faces. Mike’s nose throbbed painfully every time Jack’s fists landed anywhere near it, but the entire side of Jack’s face was a sheet of blood from the cut he’d opened.

For what seemed like hours, Mike traded bombs with Jack. Kicks, too; Mike’s thigh was bruised from the savage impacts delivered by Jack’s foot. Now and then, they would get in close enough to wrestle on their feet, and each would slam the side on his head into the other man’s face, trying to do even more damage. It was when they were wrestling that Jack’s head slammed into Mike’s cheek – and his ear was right in front of Mike’s gasping mouth.

Mike didn’t think about it. His teeth closed down on Jack’s vulnerable ear.

Jack screamed and began thrashing wildly to try to break Mike’s grip on him. Mike kept his hold on the other man and bit down even harder, reveling in Jack’s shrieks of agony. But then he felt Jack’s other hand, off-balance but still strong as hell, press on his Adam’s apple and SQUEEZE……

Mike immediately let go of Jack and broke the chokehold before Jack could get balanced enough to do it right. He backed away a couple of steps, rubbing his throat, while Jack, bent over, held his ear. Jack straightened up and fixed Mike with a look of absolute hatred. “Biting?” he growled. “BITING?”

“Yeah, why not?” Mike said, his voice mocking and nasty. “No fucking rules!”

“Fine.” Jack was coming at him again, fists up, and Mike immediately brought his up in response.

So when his balls exploded in agony, he was completely unprepared.

Mike sank to his knees, pain shooting up and down his body from Jack’s kick. The kick had been solid, with all the force Jack had behind it, and Mike had walked right into it, he hadn’t even tried to dodge it.

Jack had found a chair somewhere. Mike tried weakly to get up and fend him off, but Jack swung and caught him right across the face, sending his spit flying across the alley and spinning him down to his stomach. As he tried to rise, Jack’s boot slammed into his ribs, then again, then again, then again.

Mike curled into a ball and tried to protect himself, but Jack’s merciless kicks kept coming in, and his arms and legs weren’t responding to him anymore. And as soon as the kicks stopped, Mike felt Jack pulling on his hair and forcing him back up to his feet.

Jack, his face a mask of blood, stared into Mike’s eyes, which refused to focus on the other man. “Like I said,” he growled, “remember – always remember – who the alpha is in this gym.” He drew his fist back.

And that was all Mike remembered until he woke up. He was in a bed. Something was beeping. There was an IV inserted into his wrist. He was in the hospital.

And almost on cue, a man in a white coat came into the room. “Well, you’re awake,” he said. “Care to tell me what happened?” A name tag on his coat said that he was Doctor McCarthy.

“I must have gotten mugged,” Mike said shortly.

Dr. McCarthy’s eyebrow rose in skepticism. “Your wallet was found in your bag,” he pointed out, “and your money and credit cards were still in it. Also, your shirt was off, but in one piece, so those ‘muggers’ didn’t rip it off you. And muggers don’t generally take the time to leave their victims covered in semen. So do you want to change your story?”

“I must have gotten mugged,” Mike said again.

The doctor shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said shortly. “I’ll report your ‘mugging’ to the police, and they’ll certainly want a statement from you. We’re keeping you overnight, but you’ll be released first thing in the morning.”

He left. Mike leaned back and swore silently to himself. He’d clam up to the cops, of course, but the image of Jack was spinning in his mind. He was going to get revenge somehow.

Someday.

Mike dropped the dumbbells with a tremendous CRASH! and smiled as heads turned all over the crowded gym. He liked attention, positive or negative. He stood up from the incline bench and did a couple of flexes in the mirror. Now that was a chest. He’d been doing flies with 50 pound weights and his pecs were suffused with blood, making them almost ripping through his tight t-shirt.

Just one more exercise to go – cable flies. He left the bench with his sweat still all over it and made his way over to the cable station. He dropped his stuff by one side and adjusted the pulley then turned…and stopped.

Who the fuck was this guy, and where the fuck had he come from? He was already adjusting the pulley and putting the rope handle on. “Hey, asshole,” Mike snarled, “I’m using this. Get lost.”

The other guy turned around. He was as built as Mike, standing about an inch shorter than Mike’s six-two, but with just as much muscle. And the look he was giving Mike was not friendly.

“I’m using this,” he said shortly, “so why don’t you go fuck yourself since no one else is going to?”

Heads were starting to turn. Mike heard his name, and “Jack”, which he figured was this pussy’s name. He took a step forward so that he and Jackoff were within arm’s reach. “I said, I’m using this station. You can use it when I’m done. Leave. Now.”

Jack took a step forward, too. Now they were very close, their massive chests less than an inch apart. “We can do this two ways,” he said quietly. “You can leave and I can do my workout, or I can wipe up this entire fucking gym with your face, and then do my workout. Your choice.”

People had stopped even pretending not to listen. A crowd was starting to gather around the cable station. Mike decided it was time to teach this scumbag who was boss. “Just remember you asked for this, fucker,” he said as he began to raise his fists.

And then, Steve, the gym owner, was there, putting his body between the two much bigger men. “If you two fight in here, our insurance premiums will go through the roof and we’ll probably have to close,” he said, “so would you mind taking it outside?”

Mike almost took a swing at Steve, but the little man was right, and he liked this gym; he didn’t want to have to find another one. So he nodded curtly at Steve, grabbed his stuff, and stalked to the exit. He looked over his shoulder. “Coming, you little bitch?”

Jack was right behind him. As Mike paused to deliver his challenge, Jack kept walking and bumped Mike as he passed him. He reached the gym entrance and opened the door, then theatrically invited Mike to come outside. The rest of the people at the gym were right behind them, but the gym owner nonchalantly blocked the door and said, “If you want to cancel your membership, feel free to leave now.”

Mike and Jack walked around to the side of the gym – there was a narrow alleyway between it and the next building, and as they followed it, they found it opened into a larger space – about five feet wide. “This suit you all right?” Mike asked.

“Just fine,” Jack replied, dropping his stuff by one of the walls. He peeled off his shirt and dropped it on his gym bag, revealing an upper body packed with solid muscle under a thin coat of dark, coarse hair across his chest and abs. He started swinging his arms to loosen them up. “You need any special rules, little girl?” he asked mockingly.

Mike had dropped his bag against the opposite wall and removed his shirt as well. Stripped to the waist, he showed off a thick, muscular, smooth tanned body. He threw a couple of jabs in the air and smiled. “No rules at all. I win when I make you quit.”

“You fucking wish. Let’s do this.”

Ryu’s cries became louder and more pronounced, and his face twisted into a rictus of mixed pleasure and exertion. Kevin’s head shot up and his back arched and his lips formed a silent “O” as Ryu emptied his nut sack into my Boy’s ass. Satisfied that I could last longer, I no longer had to hold back, and I let the pressure that had been building up release, exploding deep into Wyatt’s guts. Wyatt’s “O” wasn’t silent; he howled with pleasure as I seeded him.

The Boys collapsed on their bellies, exhausted, with Ryu and me collapsing on top of them. We lay there for a long minute, panting, our bodies slick with sweat. I felt Ryu nudge me; I glanced over, and he jerked his chin at the boys. I had no problem interpreting his intention. He and I had gotten off; now they deserved a turn.

Moving as one, we got off the Boys and turned them over onto their backs. They were both still rock hard, and both of them were leaking a little after what we’d given them. Ryu lowered his mouth onto Kevin’s cock, and I did the same for Wyatt. Still earthy. I gently worked his shaft with lips, tongue, and throat until I could feel it start to get even harder, then began to suck him harder and deeper until, with a cry they probably heard next door, he exploded into my mouth.

I had no trouble taking all of the salty-sweet juice and swallowing it down, and next to me, Kevin’s cries were joining Wyatt’s and Ryu was doing the same. The Boys softened and left our mouths, and we collapsed on top of them, but my left arm reached out for Ryu at the same time as his right reached for me, as Kevin and Wyatt reached for each other. The four of us pulled each other close and lay there for a long time, savoring the closeness and the contact and the sheer joy of finding kindred spirits.

Finally, Ryu said, “We should clean up the mat, and then find our beds. It’s late.”

It didn’t take us long to remove the last vestiges of oil, sweat, and cum from the mat; Ryu was an absolute fanatic about keeping it clean, and I agreed with him 100%. Still naked and leaving our uniforms downstairs, the four of us climbed up the stairs from the basement and made our way through the house to the stairs leading to the second floor. At the top of the stairs, we didn’t even have to consult with each other. Wyatt led Kevin, hand-in-hand, down the hall to presumably his bedroom, while Ryu put his arm around my shoulders and guided me to his bedroom. It was a good room, tasteful but masculine, and it reflected its owner very well.

I was hard again; I couldn’t always get this hard this soon after cumming, but I was really, really into this man and my dick wanted more. Ryu was just as hard, especially after we kissed and held our bodies close, crushing our dicks between them. He pushed me down onto the enormous bed and opened a drawer in the table next to it. More lube; did he keep a bottle of it in every room? He lifted my legs in the air and applied a liberal amount of lube to my hole and to his cock.

I don’t bottom very often, and not for anyone but Kevin in a long time, but I wasn’t about to fight. I wanted this man inside me. Ryu jumped on the bed, lifted my legs again, and guided his cockhead to my waiting, pulsing hole. Kevin’s dick was bigger, but Ryu’s had an interesting curve to it that I’d never seen before.

It hurt, as it always does, when he entered me; I took a series of long, deep breaths and waited for the pain to subside and the pleasure to take over. It didn’t take long. Ryu let go of my legs and lowered his body and his lips onto mine. He began to drive into me, easy, measured strokes, while our tongues renewed their acquaintance. I could feel my body melting into his as my hips rose to meet his thrusts. We were like two halves of a seamless whole, our bodies twisting and gyrating in unison as if some unseen puppet master held our strings and knew exactly what the next moves would be.

Normally, Kevin and I switch positions several times when we make love, but Ryu and I didn’t. We stayed in missionary the whole time, either kissing each other deeply or else our eyes locked on each other. I had never enjoyed being with another man, not even Kevin, as much as I was loving being with Ryu, even loving it when his sweat dropped off his forehead and landed in my eye. Ryu’s eyes were alight with desire, which made for an interesting contrast with his mischievous, almost goofy smile. My god, this man was beautiful.

I could feel him getting harder inside me; he was getting close. Suddenly I couldn’t decide if I wanted him to cum inside me or all over me, but Ryu took the decision out of my mouth. He pulled out and started jerking his dick. I had never stopped jerking mine, but while I’d had Ryu in my ass, it had softened a bit. Now it was swelling to full size and thickness, and I started jerking it harder, faster, even as Ryu matched me stroke for stroke.

It doesn’t happen as often as you read in the stories, but this time it really did; Ryu and I exploded together in a fountain of semen that splattered all over my chest and stomach and even a little reaching my chin and my forehead. Ryu collapsed on me and I caught him in a rough bear hug. We started kissing and grinding our bodies together, our juices mixing to give both of our torsos a light coating of jizz. I held him tightly and realized that I didn’t want to let him go, maybe not ever.

“That…was….glorious,” Ryu whispered into my ear.

“Yes, it was,” I whispered back. I checked the time; four a.m. “It’s a little late to be driving. Okay if Kevin and I crash on your couch?”

“You idiot,” Ryu murmured with a kiss on my cheek. “You’re staying the night, and right here. Or at least,” he glanced at the clock himself, “what’s left of the night. Besides, the Boys may not be finished yet.”

“They seemed to be getting along pretty well,” I agreed. Then, more somberly, I said, “I’ve never seen Kevin that comfortable with anyone—not even me.”

“Nor have I, Wyatt,” Ryu said. “So I guess that you and I are going to have to spend time together, since our Boys are on their way to being best friends. It will be an imposition, since you’re so hideous and such an asshole—“

I shut his mouth, or rather, opened it wider, by kissing him.

It didn’t take us long to fall asleep, spooned together as easily as if we’d been made that way. I woke a few hours later, and that was where you came in. I felt drained and a little achy and deliriously happy, but the part of me that over-analyzes everything was making a list in my mind. Kevin and I were going to have to have a serious talk, and we were going to have to start spending more time with Ryu and Wyatt. For all I knew, the four of us had just been caught up in the moment and now that the moment was past, the feelings we had for each other would be past as well. But I really, really hoped that wouldn’t be the case. I liked this man and I wanted to see if that liking would develop into the same depth of feeling I had for Kevin.

But those were conversations for later in the day, or for another day altogether. Ryu stirred in his sleep and his body pressed a little closer to mine. I held him a little tighter, closed my eyes, and dozed off again.

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