Reunited - And It Feels So Good

No tie, I decided, looking at my reflection in the hotel room mirror. I shucked my sport coat and pulled off my necktie. But the white dress shirt was a little boring so I went over to the closet. I’d brought a patterned dress shirt in soft blues and greens as well. I took if off the hanger, pulled the white shirt over my head and slipped into the replacement. I shrugged myself into the gray blazer again and rechecked the mirror. I smoothed a lock of my auburn hair that had gone askew, then I was satisfied. Pretty sharp, I thought.

I don’t know who I was trying to impress. I hadn’t even really wanted to come to my twenty-fifth high school reunion, but I had been talked into it by a couple of old friends I hadn’t seen in person in a long time. The people I really wanted to keep in touch with I had, at least virtually through social media. As for the others, many I didn’t remember very well, some I was apathetic about, and a few could fuck off and die as far as I was concerned. That’s probably how most people would break down their high school classmates, I thought drily. 

I tucked my wallet in my pocket, grabbed my phone, and stepped into the hallway. The event was in the ballroom of a convention hotel in my hometown and had started half an hour ago. I figured it would be lame to be there right at the beginning, then cursed myself for thinking like a teenager. I went down the hall to the elevator bank and got in when the door opened. I pushed the button for the ballroom level and waited. Just as the door started to close, I heard footsteps hurrying and someone said, “Can you hold it?”

I pressed the Door Open button as the latecomer slipped into the elevator car. I was momentarily at a loss for words as I saw who it was. I hadn’t even thought about him coming to the reunion; we’d been out of touch for twenty years.

****

We certainly hadn’t been out of touch back in the day. We’d touched quite a lot. I had a lot of my sexual firsts with Jesse while we were growing up in our suburban neighborhood. He was always tight and lean, with a cute, tight set of buns and dark blond hair. We spent years exploring our developing bodies together and sharing experiences. We compared our pubic hair as it began to appear and then progressed from peach fuzz to thicker patches of pubes. I was fascinated by the fact that he had jet-black pubic hair in contrast to the blond hair on his head. We masturbated together and rubbed our young, eager penises against each other as we looked at contraband sex magazines swiped from wherever we could get them. We talked about classmates and speculated on what their naked dicks would look like. As we moved into high school, we began to experiment with oral and moved from tentatively licking each other’s shafts to full-on blow jobs. Jesse was the first guy who ever saw me shoot my load and he was the first other guy I ever saw have an orgasm. As we got older, my cock began to get longer and thicker and finally settled in at slightly bigger than average. On the other hand, Jesse was not a large guy in the dick department. Actually, it wasn’t a whole lot bigger than a tube of lipstick even fully erect. But it was nicely shaped and when he was hard, he was hard. His tool was like iron rebar wrapped in skin. He was also devastatingly cute, with strong features, a ready grin, smooth fair skin that tanned nicely in the summer, and that spectacularly fine ass. 

In those years, we did pretty much everything but anal. I think full-on fucking was just too advanced for us at that time. The closest we came was a game we played in which one guy would soap up his inner thighs with lather and the other would stand behind him and push his cock between his buddy’s legs and “fuck” him. I could still remember the feeling of the soap and Jesse’s light leg hair building agonizing, exhilarating friction on my shaft while the soap suds stung my piss slit a little. One time, I lost control and came all down Jesse’s legs. He freaked out a little and furiously mopped up my juice with a damp washcloth, afraid someone would be able to smell my seed on him.

****

“Hi,” I finally managed to say as the elevator doors closed. “Good to see you here.”

“You too,” he said, smiling broadly. He seemed to be searching for something to say. Was he feeling awkward, having some of the same memories I was? Or was I projecting? “I wasn’t sure who all might come to this.” He was wearing a dark blue suit with a gray shirt and light blue tie. Still youthful, still trim, still looking sweeter than a donut. 

“Yeah, I was just hoping there would be some people I would recognize after all this time,” I said. “You don’t look twenty-five years older. What’s your secret?”

“Clean living,” he grinned. “You aren’t showing the years either.”

“Thanks. Is your wife with you?” I asked. I knew through the grapevine that he had gotten married and had a couple of kids. 

“No, the boys have exams starting Monday so she stayed home with them.”

“Ah, too bad. I’d have liked to meet her.”

“Yeah, she wanted to come, but what are ya gonna do?”

****

I had a sudden memory of the two of us in my bedroom one afternoon during high school after we had jacked off together. We were naked and Jesse was looking at himself in the mirror. I was staring at his ass, which was milk-white against the golden tan of the rest of his body. It looked like all tight muscle with dimples on the side. He must have been a little chilly in his nudity, because his butt had goosebumps on it.    

“Do you think this means we’re gay?” he asked me suddenly. 

I was stumped for a minute. I didn’t know what answer he was really looking for. I found my voice and said, “I think it just means it feels good.”

He kind of nodded and resumed looking in the mirror. I wondered why he had asked me that now. I certainly knew deep down that I was gay, though I wasn’t about to tell anyone. I had known for a long time even then, had known on some level back to when I was a really young child. When the family would gather on Friday nights to watch The Dukes of Hazzard, I knew that Bo and Luke made me feel things that Daisy never did. I knew that the boys in my class at school were much more interesting to me than any of the girls. I knew that I liked sleepovers because of seeing the other boys my age in their underwear.

****

The elevator door dinged open and I snapped back to the present. 

Pop music from our high school years pumped out of the ballroom. “Here we go,” Jesse said. 

“Eagle pride!” I told him. “See you in there.” We went to separate tables at the entrance to pick up our nametags, which were organized by last name. I am not ashamed to admit I was checking out the rear view to see if I could get a look at his backyard as he walked away, but the tail of his jacket thwarted me.  I was still thinking about the memory of his question about being gay. I wondered if he was just going through a phase of experimenting and discovery back then and was now straight. Or was he repressing feelings he couldn’t handle?

Properly name-tagged, I went into the ballroom, where the reunion was in full swing. There was a good turnout, with probably two hundred people there. I went straight to the cash bar and loaded up on a double vodka tonic. I had a feeling I would need liquid fortification to make conversation with people for an evening. I’m not a recluse, but I do lean to the introverted side and small talk can be challenging for me. I took a big gulp and looked around to get the lay of the land.

My first thought was, Holy shit, these motherfuckers got old. So many of the attendees had gotten slack jowls, bald spots, and paunches. I don’t know if it’s genetics or just good luck, but I’ve always looked young. And I was in better shape than a lot of what I was looking at. It gave me a boost of confidence. But just in case, I snagged another vodka tonic before beginning to mingle. 

I fell in with a group of old friends I was still in contact with through social media and we were enjoying catching up in person. The drinks were flowing and the laughter was getting louder and we were having a great time. I took note of the other classmates going by or gathered in nearby groups. Next to us was a group of ex-jocks and their wives. A couple of them still looked like they could hold their own in a game, but not all. I started thinking about how many of these guys I had seen naked in the shower after gym class. There was Brandon, who was a major basketball stud in high school. I was much better in the classroom than on the gym floor and he was a cunt to me because of it, so I had a moment of schadenfreude that he was now bald as an egg. Next to him was Eric, the star baseball player. Back then, he’d had a tight, meaty ass that featured prominently in many of my masturbation fantasies. His ass was still meaty but not nearly as tight. All this made me appreciate that much more how good Jesse still looked after all this time. 

Speaking of Jesse, I saw him waving me at me from nearby. I excused myself from my group and went over to him. He was talking to Brian, who lived next door to me growing up. Besides the three of us, there had been a couple of other guys from the subdivision in our class. One of them was an asshole, so thank God he wasn’t here. The other had developed a tragic depression during college and committed suicide. The three of us did a solemn toast to his memory and fell into conversation about the old neighborhood.

I had a major crush on Brian growing up. He was an athlete too, with a lean, tight stomach that I tried not to stare at when we shot hoops in his driveway. He was a nice guy, with a big smile and thick, wavy light brown hair that always seemed to fall just the right way. I kept praying all through junior high and high school that we would be assigned gym class in the same period so I could check him out in the shower. It never happened, but one year Jesse was in his class. I begged him to give me every detail and he reported back that Brian had an average cock but pretty big balls and light brown pubes that weren’t too thick. He also told me that Brian had a mole in his pubic area that wasn’t quite covered by his bush. Brian also apparently bragged to some of the guys about fucking a couple of girls and all the pussy he was getting. I couldn’t vouch for how true that was, but I wouldn’t have been surprised. I knew I jacked off furiously to my mental image of Jesse’s description. 

Brian was still looking pretty good. Maybe not as lean as back in the day, but the hair was still on point and he had an easy grin. He exuded intense hetero vibes and I knew he was straight as an arrow, but that’s what fantasies are for, right?

The evening wore on and the levels in the booze bottles got lower. Inevitably, some couple had a fight and the woman stormed out. Soon after, some fuckwit crossed the line of how much liquor he could handle and ralphed into a trash bin. A few couples who did not arrive together slipped out of the party and went upstairs.

I decided I’d had enough. I’d talked to a lot of people and I had a pretty good buzz going but I hadn’t done anything embarrassing. I wandered out into the ballroom lobby and started for the elevator bank. As I was waiting for a door to open, Jesse came up behind me.

“Time to pack it in?” he asked.

“Yeah… it was fun but I’ve had all the crowd I can handle.”

“Same here…” It seemed like he was about to add something else but then he fell silent.

An elevator car arrived and we stepped in. I knew our rooms were on the same floor, so I pressed the button. After a moment, I took a chance. “Wanna stop by for a final beer?”

He hesitated a moment. “I don’t drink much these days and I’m past my limit,” he said. There was a longer beat, then, “But how many twenty-five year reunions do you have? Yeah.”

“Cool.”

We arrived on our floor and I led the way to my room. I keycarded us in and went to the minibar and pulled out two beers. “Here’s a light one,” I told him, popping the top.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a sip. We remained standing by the foot of the bed. “So, who surprised you the most tonight?”

“Did you see Brandon Connors?” I asked. “He’s totally bald. And not like he shaved his head bald. Like bald bald.”

Jesse laughed. It seemed like he was maybe a little unsteady on his feet, tipsy from drinking more than he was used to. “I noticed. I know you always hated that guy so I was sure you saw.”

“What about you?” I asked. “Who surprised you the most?”

He took another swallow of beer. “Mark Taylor. He brought his husband. I… didn’t know. Had no idea.”

“Me either,” I said. Then we fell quiet. Suddenly there was an elephant in the room with us. 

Jesse drained the rest of his beer and set the bottle on the dresser. He pulled his hand away and brushed it quickly over the front of his pants. My heart nearly stopped. Did he just do that? That was always our subtle, unspoken signal to each other. If one guy brushed his hand over his crotch, it meant he wanted more than just to hang out for the afternoon.

I put my bottle down as well and let my hand brush my pants as well. Our eyes locked and I knew he had done it intentionally. As if to confirm it, he did it again, a little more obviously this time. My mind filled with questions. What the hell? He’s married. What does he really want? Is this just the alcohol? Will he hate me if I make a move? 

Fuck it, I decided. I was horny and curious and filled with nostalgia from the reunion. I took a couple of steps to stand next to him and put my hand over his clothed dick. He closed his eyes and began to unbuckle his belt. I waited for him to unbutton the waistband, the I unzipped his slacks. I got on my knees in front of him and rubbed the small bulge in his black boxer briefs. I put my forefingers under his waistband at his hips and slipped his underwear and pants down to his thighs. His rock-hard cock sprang free, just as small yet beautiful as I remembered it. I was transported back twenty-five years to the bedroom in his split-level house where we would “play” together and get very quiet so that his mother wouldn’t hear anything and decide to come upstairs.

He still had a thick happy trail from his small navel down to a black triangle of fine, straight bush hair. His balls were completely smooth and he smelled like soap and cedar. I wondered briefly if he’d sprayed a dash of cologne down his underwear. I took a breath to absorb the moment, then I took him into my mouth. I swallowed him all the way to the base of his penis and worked my tongue underneath his marble-sized testicles. I worked my tongue over them, enjoying the smoothness of his sack, then applied some friction to his shaft with my lips and moved up and down. Horse cocks are all well and good to look at and handle, but when it comes to giving blowjobs, I still prefer a more modestly-sized rod.

I heard Jesse’s breath catch and he tentatively put his hand on top of my head as I worked his cock. I had to touch that spectacular ass again, so I reached around him and took a firm cheek in each hand and pulled him deeper into me. Quick, vivid memories flashed into my mind…

****

 The time the neighbors across the street were out of town and I had their key so I could feed their dog. Jesse and I let ourselves in so we could be together uninterrupted. We stripped naked and lay on their bed, exploring each other’s bodies. Jesse was on his back and I got between his legs and licked the underside of his shaft from base to tip. After just a few licks, he clenched up and tensed, then shot a single rope of thick spunk up his belly. It was the first time my mouth ever brought a guy to orgasm.

The time I got a video camera for Christmas and he let me shoot a few scenes of him getting out of bed and walking around my room naked, his ass golden in the glow of my bedside lamp. We watched it together as we masturbated, then recorded over it.

The time his older cousin visited and had some issues of Penthouse. We lay on their guest room bed and looked at the pictures while we all jerked off together. Jesse and I still had peach fuzz pubes at the time, but his cousin had a couple of years on us and had a full carpet of bush. I pretended I was interested in the titty books but I was really studying his cousin’s crotch. 

****

Jesse tasted amazing and it felt great to have him in my mouth again. It was just like I remembered, with his spongy glans and concrete shaft. I got the salty hint from his precum and I could tell he was getting close. He made quiet little grunting sounds and his breathing rate increased. Suddenly he pulled out of my mouth and turned to the side. He gave himself a couple of pumps with his right hand and shot his jizz into his left. His load filled his palm and some of it dribbled between his fingers and onto the carpet. 

“Darn,” he said. I laughed to myself. Jesse never cursed, whereas sometimes my vocabulary would make a sailor blush. 

“No worries,” I said. I quickly dampened a washcloth in the bathroom and tossed it to him. He wiped his hand down. I didn’t know what would happen next, but my cock was threatening to burst my zipper and I needed release. I rubbed my crotch through my pants. Jesse put the washcloth on the nightstand and moved next to me. He moved my hand aside and felt the length of my erection through the cloth. He began to unbuckle my belt and I helped him gain access by unbuttoning and unzipping. He stuck his hand into my underwear and tucked the waistband under my balls. He gripped the shaft in his hand and gently stroked as he looked at it.

“You were always so much bigger,” he whispered. He bent over at the waist instead of dropping to his knees and took the head into his mouth. Electricity shot through me as he moved part of my shaft into his mouth as well, his fingers still encircling the base. He began to move his hand up and down, which caused the underside of my shaft to glide back and forth across his tongue. More memories came rushing back…

****

The time we took sandwiches and Cokes and rode our bikes out into the woods beyond our housing development. We found a sunny clearing over a mile into the forest and lay naked in the sun for a couple of hours, occasionally sucking or stroking each other. He rolled over onto his stomach for a while and didn’t object when I knelt next to him and stroked my penis back and forth over one of his smooth, bare ass cheeks. 

The time we were fucking around in my bedroom and my dad came home from work early. Jesse dressed in a flash so he could slip out the back. But before he left, he turned and leaned down to take me in his mouth for another moment, just like he was doing now.

The time we were home from a college break and we each drove to a closed-down convenience store nearby and parked behind the building. It was raining and I quickly ducked into his car. We lowered our zippers and pulled our cocks out and stroked each other while keeping a watch for any cars that might happen by. That was the last time we were together…

****

…until now. His warm mouth felt like the finest silk and the combination of the physical sensation and the sheer surprise of getting to experience this again had my balls tightening. A few seconds later, he backed away and stood up. He looked at me a little shyly, uncertainly. I gripped myself with my left hand and used the saliva he left behind to lube up and stroke. He stared at my cock as I built quickly to my finish. 

“Fuck,” I gasped as my orgasm hit and I splattered the carpet with my milk. My head swam and I was breathing hard. 

“That felt great,” I told him.

“Yeah,” he said. “I remember when we used to…” His voice trailed off and he started to rebutton his pants and rebuckle his belt.

“Me too,” I said quietly.

“I don’t really do… I mean, that kind of thing… anymore.”

“Sure. It’s just old times’ sake… and beer.”

He looked away. “Do you… do that still?”

I swallowed as I considered what to say. “Yeah,” I said finally. “I do.”

“OK. I thought maybe so. It’s fine.” He finally met my eyes again. “But I guess I’d better go. Long drive tomorrow.”

“I understand. It was really nice to see you again.” I pulled my underwear pack into place and fastened my pants.

“You too.” He moved past me without touching and went to open the door. “Good night,” he said as he stepped into the hall.

“Good night,” I answered as the door closed. I turned all the locks into place and leaned against the doorframe. I reflected that the word nostalgia is from Greek that loosely translates to “the ache of homecoming.” It made perfect sense.