Seekers

Chapter 8 - Paul sets a challenge

Jeff woke to find the morning sun streaming through the window, and Paul's arm draped over his hips. He had to confess, it felt good, natural, and very, very comforting. With his bladder making demands, though, he eased himself free and then out of bed. In the bathroom he needed to squat to relieve himself, then had to figure out how to clean the belt. He ran a comb through his hair, applied a little deodorant and quietly made his way back to the bedroom, pulled on a pair of loose training pants, and, having checked Paul was still sleeping, headed for the kitchen.

The chastity belt was a constant reminder that his sexual desires would not be addressed anytime soon. Strangely, that seemed to make them even more intense, and, as he worked, the image of Paul's sculptured physique was constantly in his thoughts. He wrestled with his desire and his feelings, particularly for Paul, as he went about his preparations. It had felt wonderful sleeping with his friend, it had felt even better to wake in his company, something he'd not experienced before. All his previous 'bedroom experiences' had been lust driven, and sometimes awkward, sexual encounters, usually driven by whatever Coach Wetherspoon wanted -- and never included sleeping over. The memory of that made him worry briefly.

What if Paul felt the same? He frowned as he worked, remembering the almost aggressive rejection of his desire for contact and reassurance of reciprocated feelings by the Coach. It had, at least, made him far more cautious in who he 'went with'. But now, he worried that Paul might have the same attitude when he woke up — and worse, might want to end their friendship. 

Two hours later, he'd prepared everything for the lunch, showered, dressed casually and was enjoying a second coffee on the terrace when Paul joined him.

"Good morning - or good afternoon." Paul smiled and walked to where Jeff was sitting. He'd showered and dressed and looked refreshed and wonderfully relaxed, though the chastity belt made its presence known through his jeans. He dropped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Point me to the coffee and I'll join you." He leaned down and lightly kissed Jeff's upturned face. "Thanks for playing along with my stupid ideas — and for letting me sleep on. It's something I needed to do."

Jeff touched the hand on his shoulder and smiled. "I think we both needed it. Coffee is in the pot in the machine, mugs in the cupboard above, milk, sugar and everything close to hand. Grab a cup and join me. Lunch is all set whenever you're ready, I need about ten minutes to do the last little bit before we can eat."

Paul squeezed the shoulder. "Be right back. Don't run away."

"I won't." Jeff grinned happily as Paul withdrew, returning minutes later nursing a mug of coffee.

"Smells like a good brew." Paul eased himself into a seat next to Jeff's and studied the view. "Great view." He turned to watch his friend's face. "Sleep OK? Sorry about the 'no sex' situation, but I didn't want you to think that was all I was here for."

Jeff shook his head. "No, it's OK. And I slept pretty well." He reached across and touched Paul's arm. “I didn’t know how good it felt to share a bed with someone. Better than I dreamed I think.” He smiled. "And the — er — restriction made it, somehow, more special. For me at least."

Paul smiled. "Good, I'm glad." He stared at his coffee. "I'll be honest. I'm just not ready for sex." He met Jeff's surprised look. "Yeah, I want it, but I want it when we're both absolutely certain this isn't just lust. That we really do share something special, more than just a taste for bondage, fetish stuff and so on ..."

For a moment Jeff was speechless. Then he nodded, reaching out to touch his companion as he replied, "No, that's OK. That suits me too." He swallowed. "I've been worrying all morning that, when you woke up, it'd be like my one and only time. Pe - the guy I'd slept with treated me like trash when he woke up. He acted like it was all my idea, my fault and behaved like a shit, calling me names and then spreading rumours about me later."

Paul nodded. "Yeah, I know the type. Been there a few times." He smiled. "Damn I need a refill. Can I help getting lunch ready?"

Jeff stood and snatched the coffee mug, grinning. "No, I'll get the last bit done and we can eat. Stay here, I'll get you a refill first."

Lunch was every bit as delicious as Jeff had hoped. He revelled in Paul's company, even though the chastity belt constantly reminded him of his frustrated desire. He found himself opening up and pouring his heart, and his history out to his friend. For his part, Paul let slip small bits of information, but, as Jeff later realised, nothing very definite or revealing. The afternoon slipped by and it was dusk before they cleared the table. 

The door buzzer startled them both.

"Wha ..? Oh, shit. I forgot. That'll be my lift. I've got another gig tonight." Paul frowned. "Damn, now I can't call Tom round here." He smiled. "Look, I have to go, but I'll have to go via Tom's place and I'll get him to bring the keys round to you." He slipped his arms round Jeff as the door buzzed again. "I'm sorry. Do me a favour, let him in while I get my things?" Their lips met and the kiss lingered as their metal covered crotches met through the cloth of their slacks.

"OK," Jeff released his friend as the buzzer sounded several more times. "And thank you." He headed for the door and the entry phone as Paul ran to the bedroom and his heavy bag.

Two hours after Paul left, Jeff had the flat tidy and clean again. He'd surrendered to his kinky impulse soon after his friend's hurried departure, and stripped, enjoying being naked, his 'assets' covered only by the heavy steel prison of the Carerra belt. But now he was a little worried as he stood on the terrace enjoying the view. Surely Tom should have been here by now?

Wandering to the telephone, he lifted the receiver and dialled the number. The phone rang, then went to the answer phone. "Hi, this is Jeff. Tom, Paul said you had a key for me. If you're already on your way ... Oh, well. If not, can you give me a ring? I could have a problem at work tomorrow otherwise."

It was almost ten-thirty when the door buzzer sounded. Jeff pulled on a top and some sweat pants and hurried, half running, half skip-staggering to the entry-phone. "Hi." He looked at the face on the screen. "Tom. I was hoping you'd call." He keyed the door release. "Come on up."

He opened the door and waited on the landing.

Tom stepped out of the lift and smiled. "I've got a key for you, but there's a price attached."

Jeff's face fell. "Oh?"

Tom laughed. "Yes, I need a drink, and I want it served by someone wearing only what's under that outfit." He gripped Jeff's shoulder. "Nothing more." He followed Jeff inside. "Enjoying yourself? Learned anything about yourself yet?"

Jeff swallowed. "I guess. A lot in fact." He waved toward the livingroom. "Take a seat. I'll fetch the drinks." He hesitated. "What would you like? I've wine, beer, or some good whiskey."

Tom smiled. "I'll take a white wine, I think. And I'd like it if you'd join me with something. It's time we had a good talk."

"OK, I've a good Chenin Blanc in the fridge, I'll pour one for myself as well." He grinned nervously. "Give me a minute and I'll fetch the drinks." He hurried to the bedroom and stripped. At the door he stopped and studied his well muscled image a moment in the mirror, the heavy steel prison encasing his crotch stark on his naked flesh. Then, with a shrug, he turned and walked to the kitchen, found a couple of glasses, retrieved the wine and carefully poured two full measures. 

Tom watched as Jeff approached, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Accepting the proffered glass, he said, "You know, I think you've passed the first and most important test." He sipped as Jeff, blushing, groped his way to a seat opposite. "The fact you were willing to wear that for Paul speaks volumes." His eyes locked Jeff's. "How do you feel about him? What do you want him to feel about you?"

Confused, Jeff froze. "How do I feel about him? I don't ... Oh, shit. OK, I think I love him." He dropped his eyes. "I think about him at work, and when he's not around. I wish I could see him more often, and not just at the gym, or the dance workouts." He gulped his wine. "But, I shit myself whenever I think what it means when I wish he'd make love with me ..." 

Tom chuckled. "Yeah, that's a problem, isn't it?" He sipped the wine, staring at Jeff over the rim of his glass. "You were prepared to wear that thing, you enjoy his company, you want him to make love with you, but you don't want to face up to the fact that, like me and Clive, like young James and a lot of other guys, you're Gay."

Jeff looked miserable. "Yeah. I'm a Fag. A cock sucker with a massive rubber and bondage fetish. And I hate it." He stared at the floor. "If only you knew what it was like. Always the odd man out, always looking at the other guys and wishing, always being teased and sometimes roughed up. The coach liked me though." He grimaced. "Preferably tied to the wall bars."

Tom sighed. "Listen up. We do know. We're Gay, kinky, and proud of it. We've been there, done that, and survived." He produced an envelop and laid it on the coffee table. "Paul is very like you. He's besotted in fact, but he's been rejected so often he's afraid of it." He held Jeff's eye. "There's a note in there as well as the key." He finished the wine and stood up. "You need to stop being afraid of what you are, so you can be who you are. Believe me, I know, and you don't have to jump up and down naked on a roof top to 'come out' anymore. Just be yourself and let others figure it out for themselves." He touched Jeff's shoulder. "You'll find most of the folk you work with have already figured it out, and those that haven’t, will eventually." He smiled. "Now I better get going. That's a nice wine, let me have the name of the vineyard sometime, I'd like to get a little myself."