This is a fictional story dealing with love and consensual sexual activities between males. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality and/or homosexual themes, leave this site now.
The author retains all rights to this story. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the permission of the author.
WHEN LOVE COMES - PART 2
The next morning we got up and went for our run. Actually, Matt ran and I jogged around the track. Afterwards we went back to the apartment, had some breakfast, took showers and settled in to do school work. Matt read for his literature class in the living room while I corrected lab note books in the bedroom/office. About five we went over to the gym and worked with the free weights and machines in the training room for almost an hour and a half then went home, showered again, cooked supper (sauteed chicken with rice this time) and then settled into the living room for wine and conversation.
That became our routine for the next six days. A run in the morning followed by breakfast and a shower. Work on school stuff until five or five thirty. Work with weights in the gym, come home, cook dinner, and then talk until eleven or eleven thirty. After dinner, I would take one end of the couch and he would take the other sitting with our backs to the arms of the couch so we were facing one another with our knees drawn up and out feet flat on the middle cushion of the couch. Occasionally our bare feet would touch. The first night I'd pull my foot back when that happened, but it didn't seem to bother Matt so after that night, if our feet touched, I'd just let mine stay where they were and enjoy the physical contact. I was surprised by how fast the week went, how much work I was really getting done, and how much I enjoyed his company. I also became much more at ease with seeing Matt's body. It was apparent that he didn't like clothes any more than I did. Except for that first night on the couch, he slept in the nude and usually didn't put anything on until after his coffee before we went out running. During the day he studied in a pair of cut off sweat pants and a sweat shirt with the arms cut out. After the afternoon shower he either put the cut off sweats back on or wore loose jeans with another sweat shirt or a loose jersey. I was a little more modest, but we both got used to the sight of the other's naked body. He didn't even try to hide his morning erection when getting out of the covers. As he said, "Well, everyone has 'em so it's no big deal."
Friday night we stayed up a little later talking. We both went to our respective beds just after midnight. About four in the morning I woke up. I didn't know what had caused me to waken, but I was wide awake and alert. Then I heard Matt's moan from the living room couch. I got out of bed and went into the living room. He was thrashing around on the couch, clearly having some sort of nightmare. His moaning grew louder, and I could make out some words.
"Stop, please stop!...Don't hit me...Please, Dad, no..." Then came a very clear, "You fucking bastard, leave her alone!" His movements on the couch were more spasmodic, and he had his arms out in front of his face and chest like he was trying to ward off some attacker. His moans turned into sobs and he began pleading, "No, no, please, no!"
I knelt down beside the couch and placed my hand on his bare shoulder. "Matt, Matt, wake up. It's a dream."
His eyes opened wide and his whole body recoiled away from me. The look of fear in his eyes was clearly visible even in the dim light from the street lights in the parking lot. I gently grabbed both of his arms and repeated, "Matt, wake up! It's a dream!"
The realization of who I was washed over his face, and his body relaxed momentarily. Then with a huge sob he buried his face in his hands and began to cry. I put both arms around him and pulled him to my chest and began rocking gently back and forth. One hand was stroking his hair, and I kept repeating, "It's okay. It was just a dream. It's okay."
Gradually he stopped crying, and for a while he leaned against my chest as I continued to rock back and forth stroking his hair. He was drenched in sweat, and I could tell that the sheets on the couch were soaked through as well. After a couple of minutes his breathing returned to normal, and he almost whispered, "It wasn't a dream. It was a memory."
"It's okay now. Hush," I crooned just like I was comforting a small child.
He put his arms around me and hugged himself even closer. We held each other for another couple of minutes, and then he said, "I'm all right now. Sorry I woke you up."
"That's okay, Matt. That was a pretty bad dream. Do you have those often?"
"Not as much now as when I was at home. It's much better now that I'm away from Dad."
My heart broke, and I held him tighter. "Come on and try to get back to sleep. You'll have to come in with me. The sheets here are too wet."
I got up and went into the bathroom and grabbed a couple of towels. I went back out into the living room and handed one to Matt telling him to dry himself off. I used the other to dry myself where his sweat had gotten onto me. He meekly got up, used the towel, and then followed me into the bedroom.
We climbed into bed. I moved toward the edge of the double bed to give him enough room, and he climbed in after me.
"Do you want to tell me about it?" I asked.
And then he began telling me his story. His father was abusive and became violent whenever Matt, his mother, or little brother did the slightest thing wrong. He would fly into rages and beat them. This had been going on since Matt was small. In addition, his father had told both of the boys that they had to become professional athletes. Basically they were shit if they couldn't make the grade to be stars. Matt told me that after every football game in high school his father would sit him down in their kitchen and go over every play of the game telling Matt in great detail what mistakes he had made and how stupid and worthless he was. Those post game beratings often turned into post game beatings. The next week in school, everyone assumed that the bruises came from the game.
I listened in stunned silence as he opened his heart. I knew things like that happened, but I didn't know anyone (until that night) that had experienced such horror. I don't remember my parents ever laying a hand on me for punishment. There were (and still are) lots of hugs and words of love and encouragement, never any hitting or spanking. I didn't know what to say at that point so I just reached out and pulled him to me again. He melted into my arms. I was lying on my back. Matt had his head on the left side of my chest. My right arm was around his back and my left was under his neck and crooked up so that I could stroke his hair. Matt had his left arm over my right side and bent up over my shoulder so that his hand was touching my face. We lay that way until both of us fell into an exhausted sleep.
I gradually awoke about nine that Saturday morning with a raging hard on. I was lying on my right side, and Matt was curled against my back with his left arm over my waist and his hand pressed flat against my chest. I could feel his substantial morning boner pressed against my right ass cheek almost in the crack. I lay there for a couple of minutes remembering the events of the previous night and why Matt was in my bed. I could feel his breath against the back of my neck, and every once in a while the fingers of the hand against my chest would move a little digging gently into my chest hair. When his fingers moved I could also feel his hard cock pulse against my ass. I had to pee desperately, but I didn't want to wake him and I sure didn't want to move away from the touch of his body against mine. Just when I thought I wouldn't be able to hold it any longer, he gave a big sigh and rolled over on to his back.
I used that opportunity to slip out of the right side of the bed and quietly made my way into the bathroom. I couldn't decide if I had to pee or beat off. After a couple of minutes trying to pee with no success because my cock was still standing straight up, I opted for beating off. It didn't take long before I shot a big load into my hand. I wiped the cum from my hand with toilet paper and was finally able to pee as my penis became softer and no longer pointed straight up to my chest.
I didn't put on any clothes since I didn't want to go back in the bedroom and possibly wake Matt. I padded on out to the kitchen and started some coffee. The coffee was just about ready when I heard the distinctive sound of a stream of piss going into the toilet followed by a flush. I looked up, and Matt walked into the kitchen. He was still naked also, and his morning hard-on was just beginning to subside. As a result his dick was pointing more or less straight out away from his body. Even though it wasn't completely hard, it was still an impressive sight.
He scratched his belly, yawned and said, "Good morning, Doc. Looks like we slept a little late."
"Yeah, someone had a hard night last night."
He walked over to me, put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Thanks, Doc. I'm sorry about the nightmare."
I told him not to worry about it and that I'd been glad to help and that he could talk to me any time but that I thought he might want to see one of the university counselors.
Matt sat down at the table with his cup of coffee, lowered his eyes, and said, "I ...I can't do that. Not yet. You're the only one I've ever told about my dad."
"And I won't ever tell anyone what you told me, Matt. I'm more than willing to listen or provide a shoulder to lean on, but I think you have some issues that need a counselor."
He looked away from me, and said, "Not now. Maybe later. I'm just not ready."
We finished our coffee in silence, put on jogging shoes and shorts, and went out for our run. The weather had turned unseasonably warm during the night, and even though this was still mid-March it seemed like spring might be just around the corner. We did our distance in jogging, and then I stretched out while Matt completed his wind sprints. Afterwards we went back to the apartment. I took a shower and shaved, and when I came out of the bathroom I found that Matt had folded up the sheets from the couch and had the kitchen and living room all picked up. When he started his shower, I started on more school work. I'd completed the lab notebooks but now was working my way through the exams I'd given just before the break. It was Saturday, and I wanted to be sure I had them corrected and back to the class on Monday.
I heard Matt finish his shower and go out into the living room. He picked up another book for his lit class and started reading. We had bits of conversation every ten minutes or so. After a couple of hours, he got up and went into the kitchen. After a few minutes I smelled coffee, and he brought a new mug of fresh coffee into the office area. He put it down on the desk beside the papers I was working on and laid his hand briefly on my shoulder. I thanked him for the coffee, and he went back out into the living room.
About four o'clock he announced it was time to go over to the gym.
"Put the stuff away for now, Doc. It's time to go work our muscles, and then it's my turn to cook. You've done it all this week, and this might be my last chance to pay you back."
We got ourselves ready and went over to the gym. I thought our workout that day was a little more intense than before. I know I was tired and more than a little sore by the time we quit. Matt insisted that we stop at the grocery store but that I stay inside the car. I didn't mind since the weather was still warm. I listened to the radio and was almost asleep when he opened the back door, deposited several sacks of groceries and a bag of charcoal in the back seat and then climbed in the passenger seat.
"Home, Jeeves," he smiled. "Have I got stuff for us! Steaks, potatoes, salad, and of course wine. I've even got something special for after dinner."
I asked him what the something special was, but he refused to say. "Later," was all I could get out of him.
Back at the apartment he insisted that I take my shower first and refused to let me help put away the groceries. He came into the bathroom while I was drying off after the shower.
"My turn," he said and stripped off his sweat pants and gym shorts. He climbed into the shower and turned on the spray.
I finished drying myself, hung up the towel, went into my room and pulled on a pair of briefs, jeans, and a shirt. It was still fairly warm so I didn't bother with shoes or tucking in my shirt. I went out into the kitchen and rummaged around in the refrigerator and cupboards to try to find out what Matt had meant by something special. All I could find were the fixings for dinner. The steaks were huge. Almost an inch and a half thick. I thought just one of them would feed the both of us. They must have cost him a fortune. I certainly didn't buy steaks like that very often. I opened another cupboard door and looked inside.
"You won't find it. It's supposed to be a surprise," came Matt's voice from the hallway.
Caught in the act! I looked up with a guilty expression on my face. He was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He was still naked and using the towel to dry his hair. Man, what a beautiful sight!
"Go into the living room, Doc. You're banned from the kitchen until further notice. Out!" He took me by the arm and steered me out of the kitchen and then gave me a push toward the couch. "Sit down and enjoy. You've cooked all week. I need to pay you back."
We laughed, and I went into the living room as he wrapped the towel around his waist and disappeared into the kitchen. I put a couple of CD's on the player and sat down. In just a minute or so Matt was back in with a glass of red wine, some tortilla chips and a small bowl of salsa.
I remarked that it was the first time I'd ever been served by a naked waiter. He laughed and told me that I must not have ever been to a big city. Then he told me to drink my wine, eat the chips and, "Keep your butt out of the kitchen."
He went into the office where he'd been keeping his clothes and emerged wearing his cut off sweats and nothing else. I could tell he hadn't put on any underwear because the sweats hung low around his hips, and I could make out the clear outline of his penis against the soft cotton fabric of the sweat pants.
I stayed in the living room as Matt worked in the kitchen. I heard him go out the door, and I was glad there was a small courtyard area just outside the kitchen that would prevent any one from seeing this nearly naked young man working around in the courtyard of the apartment. He must have started the charcoal fire while he was outside because I could smell a faint odor of lighter fluid on him when he came back into the living room to check on the chips and wine. He refilled my wine glass and went back into the kitchen.
It was now nearly seven thirty and very dark outside. I hadn't turned on any lights so it was almost as dark inside the apartment except for the light from the street light outside. Matt came into the room and sat down on "his" end of the couch with a glass of wine of his own.
"Everything's ready. I'll put the steaks on in just a couple of minutes. How do you like yours cooked?"
"Rare to medium rare," I replied.
"Good," he said. "I like mine still bloody. It brings out the carnivore in me."
He set his wine down on the table next to the couch and leaned forward toward me, "Thanks again, Doc. This has been a great spring break."
"It was my pleasure, Matt," I replied. "I enjoyed the company, and I think I enjoyed starting to get back in shape."
He laughed and patted my shoulder as he got off the couch and headed back toward the kitchen. "You were in pretty good shape to begin with, Doc."
I heard him go out the door again. He must have put the steaks on because he was inside again in just a minute or so. I heard noises from the kitchen as he set the table. About ten minutes later he went back outside to turn the steaks, and five minutes or so after that he came back in. The wind had been going the other way, and I hadn't smelled the steaks as they were cooking, but as soon as he brought them inside the aroma filled the apartment. I realized I was famished and more than just a little tipsy from the wine.
"It's ready. You can come into the kitchen now."
I got up from the couch and steadied my self from the effects of the wine. The kitchen table was set. Salad, baked potatoes with sour cream, steaks, and two bottles of wine. One was the one we'd been drinking and the other was yet unopened. The only light in the kitchen came from the parking lot through the kitchen window and the light over the stove.
"Eat up, and enjoy," he said smiling that slightly crooked smile of his.
Both of us were hungry. We almost attacked the meal. Everything was great. The steaks were done just right. The potatoes were hot and fluffy inside. The salad was crisp. We ate in silence for a while, and then when our hunger was sated somewhat we started talking. We just talked and ate and sipped more wine.
It was nearly ten when we finally got up from the table. Matt propelled me toward the living room again and refused to allow me to help with the clean up. I settled back onto the couch with a fresh glass of wine and listened to the CD's and the sounds of him moving around in the kitchen.
About half an hour later, the sounds from the kitchen stopped, and Matt came into the room. He settled again into "his" side of the couch and we just chatted for another hour or so. Our feet had made contact in the middle of the couch almost as soon as Matt sat down. Neither one of us drew away, and gradually the amount of contact between us increased as our legs straightened out on the couch. We ended up with his left foot almost up to my crotch and my right leg lying against his left leg with my foot about three inches below his crotch but buried in the baggy fabric of his cut off sweat pants. I was semihard from the contact.
"Are you ready for the treat?" he asked.
"Sure, what is it?" I hated the thought of losing some of the body contact, but I sat up a little straighter.
"I know your muscles are a little sore, so I got some lotion to give you a body massage."
"You got massage lotion at the grocery store?"
"Not really, it's just some body lotion, but I think it'll feel good. What do you say?"
I knew this would be dangerous, and I should refuse, but what I came out of my mouth was, "Sure. How do you want to do this?"
"Here on the floor would be the best," he said. "That way I can get right down at your muscles. Let me go get a couple of towels to put on the carpet."
He disappeared into the bathroom and emerged with towels and a big bottle of body lotion that he must have hidden in his gym bag in the other room. He spread the towels down on the floor and then looked at me with his hands on his hips. "Okay, Doc, take off your clothes and then get down on the floor."
I stood up, shucked off my jeans and shirt and started to get down onto the towels.
"No, if I'm going to do a whole massage, you have to take off the underwear also. Otherwise I'll get lotion all over 'em."
When I hesitated he said, "You know I've seen it. We've been naked around each other all week."
I put my fingers in the waist band of my briefs and pulled them down and off. I laid down on my stomach on the towels, and Matt knelt at my head. He took some lotion into his hands and then gently spread the lotion around my neck and shoulders. I was in heaven. The combination of his warm hands gently kneading my muscles with the slickness of the lotion was both intensely erotic and relaxing at the same time.
Matt moved over to my right side and picked up my arm. He began massaging my hand working the lotion in between my fingers and using his thumb to put pressure on the palm of my hand. From my hand he moved down to my right forearm, gently massaging in the lotion using motions that always went from my hand toward my elbow. He braced my arm against his bare chest, put more lotion on his hands and started working the lotion into the skin and muscles of my upper arm. His strokes always moved from the elbow to my shoulder and then on to my back. I could feel all the muscle tension leave from my right arm.
When he was done with my right arm, he switched and knelt on my left side and repeated the whole process with my left hand and arm. I was completely transfixed. If the apartment had caught on fire at that moment, I wouldn't have been able to move.
From my arm he moved again to my back. His strokes moved down from my shoulders to the middle of my back toward my waist and reached just past the top of my ass. At this point I started to get an erection, and my penis began to press against the fabric of the towel on the floor. Matt was kneeling near my left side with his left leg crooked and his right knee pressed against my shoulder. I turned my head toward him and opened my eyes. I could see his leg with its fine, light brown hair. The sweats were bagged around his crotch, but every once in a while I thought I saw the tip of his penis press against the fabric. It looked like he was getting an erection also.
Abruptly he got up from my side and knelt between my legs at the ankles. He lifted my right foot, applied lotion to his hands and began to massage my foot in a way similar to what he'd done with my hands. I'd never had anyone massage my feet before so I had no idea how stimulating that could be. My dick which was still pointed toward my feet began to hurt as it grew harder and pushed against the floor in an attempt to stand upright.
Matt continued with the massage and lotion from my foot onto my calf. Again, all of the motions were toward the center of my body and the knee. I felt him brace my foot and lower leg against his chest as his hands moved to my thighs. The motions again moved upwards. I found it hard to breathe as his hands moved up my thigh toward the bottom of my butt. His right hand moved slightly under my thigh toward the front and his left slide along the inside of my thigh. He brought his hands forward, and I could feel the fingers of his left hand just enter the crack of my butt as his right hand moved onto my hip. He repeated that motion a couple more times and then abandoned my right leg in favor of my left foot.
The process started all over again from my foot to my lower leg and then on to my thigh. Again his hands circled my thigh and moved upwards with the fingers of his right hand moving into my crack. This time they moved a little deeper into the crack than before. Each time as his right hand moved deeper and deeper into my crack, his left hand came farther around the front of my hip so that his fingers were touching my pubic hair each time. I felt the tips of the fingers of his right hand brush along the back of my balls and penis. My breathing became deeper and deeper, but each time his hand touched my balls or entered my crack, I'd hold my breath. I thought I could hear Matt's breathing more and more as he worked.
Suddenly his hands left my leg and landed again on my lower back. My left leg and foot were still braced against his chest and I could feel my shin move up and down against his chest as he moved forward and back. He moved his hands from my lower back onto my ass cheeks. He would start each movement with the thumbs of his hands inside my crack and then move outward bringing his hands fully around my hips and lifting slightly so that his fingers met in the middle of my pubic hair in front. If my dick had been in an upright position instead of pressed against the floor pointing downward, he would have been running his fingers across it with each stroke. As he continued, his thumbs started deeper and deeper in the crack of my ass so that eventually they were brushing across my asshole each time. Each time he lifted my hips slightly to bring his hands around in the front, my hard dick took the opportunity to move a little more to the side and upwards. Finally, it snapped completely up against my belly, and his fingers did run across it each time. I had never felt anything as emotionally and sexually intense as I was at that moment.
"Turn over, Doc. I'll get your front," Matt said in a husky voice.
I hesitated for just a moment, but then I figured that he already knew I had a hard on, so what the heck. I just knew that I didn't want this to stop.
I turned over on to my back. Matt had moved backwards a little to allow me to turn over. He was leaning back on his haunches. The only light in the room came from the streetlight out in the parking lot, but I could clearly see that crooked smile on his face as he looked at me. During the massage, his sweat pants had moved even further down on his hips. I could see the top of his pubic hair peeking above the drawstring of the pants. There was a wet spot on the front of the pants which I thought must be precum. I knew we should stop, but there was no way I that I could form the words.
I saw Matt's eyes move from my face and travel down my torso to my throbbing erection. He gave the faintest smile, stood up, and pulled the draw string on his sweat pants.
"They're kind of getting in the way," he said as the pants dropped to the floor, and he stepped completely out of them.
Now both of us were naked. His penis was as erect as mine. It stood almost straight up from its root with the head nearly touching his navel. I could see a slight movement in his dick that must have been from his heart beat.
He knelt back down between my knees, put some more lotion on his hands and leaned forward to put his hands on my shoulders and drew them across my pecs, over my hard nipples, and then he brought his hands together and moved them down from my chest across my stomach to the tip of my penis. Gently, I felt his hands, slippery from the lotion, move over my penis, down to my balls and then off my legs just below the hip.
He leaned forward to put his hands on my shoulders again, and this time he moved his hips forward. That brought our pubic regions together so that our dicks were just touching one another. As he moved his hands across my chest and down to my cock like before his own dick moved lightly over mine and then lifted away as his hands came closer to my dick.
Again he leaned forward bringing our throbbing cocks into contact as his hands began their slow, sensuous movement down my body. At this point it was hard to tell if the lubrication on our cocks was coming from the lotion or the large amounts of precum we were both producing. This time as he slid his hands off my dick, he moved his hands to his own hard member.
It was one fluid motion from my cock to his. He was jacking both of us with each turn.
I felt my balls drawing up, and I knew I was close. As he leaned forward, I reached up, put my arms around his back and drew him down on to me.
He groaned with pleasure as our bodies fitted into one another. We began to grind our dicks together while we held each other tightly.
Suddenly my back arched as my cock exploded volley after volley of hot cum between us. I was aware of the tension building in Matt's body and his own climax followed on the heels of my own. I felt his cum flow out and mix with mine.
We stayed motionless for a long time, and then both of us drew in a deep breath at the same time. He rolled off me onto his left side. We looked into each others eyes and then both of us began giggling almost hysterically.
When our laughter subsided, I started to speak, "Matt, I..."
"Shhh...Don't talk. Not now. Let's just go to bed."
He got up on his knees, picked up one of the towels and gently wiped the cum off my body and then his. "Come on." He stood up and held out his hand for me.
I took it. He pulled me up, and then, still holding my hand led the way into the bedroom.
(To be continued)