I remember the phone call. It was my cousin Jon. He wanted me to come over and play some pool. 'You know I'm no good at pool, Jon.'

'That's okay, I can beat your pants off and it makes me feel good.'

'I have feelings!'

'Yours don't count, I'm coming to get you.'

It was the fall season. I got out my old soft leather jacket, not a heavy one. It was still warm out, but fall in the Midwest could turn on a dime. I walked to the street and waited the few moments to hear the throaty roar of Jon's classic Harley Sportster muscle its way to the curb. What a beautiful bike. Candy apple red, or was it metallic blue. It was one of the most beautiful bikes of my memory, but I can't quite remember the color. 'Why no jacket?' He wore only a T-shirt and his biceps pushed out in all directions under the tight sleeves.

'I am cold blooded.'

'Reptiles can't even move when it gets too cold.'


He had pulled up to me and I looked down the length of his bike. My eyes began to dilate and my heart started to beat faster as usually happened when I took him in. I tried not to be so obvious. I did not want him to know how much I liked looking at him. His sparkling white jeans seemed so much in contrast to the oiled machine which they grasped. The jeans were held tight over his motorcycle boots. The pant legs rose tightly wrapping his muscular long legs. The button fly would not stay closed over the round package at his crotch. Each button tried but the cloth between pulled and tried to separate his fly. Above was the large silver buckled belt with a turquoise in it. His waist was not extremely narrow, but slim, muscular and solid. The white T-shirt molded itself around his chest. He was never muscle bound, having the long limber muscles of a runner. His tanned handsome face and deep brown eyes with luxurious lashes was topped with a curly tousle of brown hair. I took this in, familiar with the territory, in a single furtive glance.

'Get on.' He said just before I swung my leg over and sat in a distant place at the back of the single seat. He started the cycle up then shouted over the noise. 'Hold on!' I grabbed at his belt. 'Come on! You are never going to stay on that way, wrap your hands around my waist.' I quickly slid up close to him, my penis bump pressing into the crack I saw between his ass cheeks. I circled Jon's waist and pressed myself against his back. I could feel him breathing and my hands could sense the pulse of his heart at the base of his sternum. I closed my eyes and pictured the inner workings of his whole body. I was closer now, than I could ever remember being to anyone.

The engine surged with the clutch and we were off, the wind blowing our hair in those days before helmet laws. When we stopped at the traffic signals I was pressed even closer. The starting and stopping alternately pulsed me into him, doing what I later called dry humping. I thought the moisture would leak right through my blue jeans.

We pulled up to his house and he surprisingly had a garage door opener. We pulled into his empty garage and closed the door. The room had a sudden strange intimacy. I could smell the fond odors of stray gasoline, lubricants and stored chemicals. 'My parents are away for the whole weekend.' Jon said.

'Why don't I stay over.'

'Thought you would never ask. Need to call your parents?' I grabbed a nearby phone and told my folks I was staying. I turned around to see Jon's jeans covered penis unwrap itself from his Sportster. He stood under the light of the door opener, shiny white, the black of his boots contrasting with his ice cream clothes. My resolve not to let him know broke. My eyes riveted on the tired buttons of his fly, I thought something was trying to get out.

We stood there silently, then I raised my eyes to meet his. There was a surprised alarm on his face. It resolved into a quirky smile. Then the smile went away and some peaceful welcoming warmth came from him. My penis started to remember where it had been. I could feel the warmth of memory where his clothed skin had been next to mine. I started to pulse with his remembered heart beat.

I do not know how I traversed the space between us. Suddenly, I was alternately rolling on the cold hard cement floor and turning and alternately wrestling with his warm, warm body. Parts of our clothes were open and parts kept us from the oil stained floor. My hands explored the contours, muscles and dimples of Jon. Jon's hands rubbed across me and pulled on my shirt and pants. 'This is too hard and dirty.' Jon quipped and jumped up to run into the house. I ran after him. He quickly stopped in the pool room and I grabbed him and threw him on the table. 'Ouch!'

I yanked his shirt over his head and unbuckled his silver belt. I popped open the top button stamped with Levis, then I very slowly unbuttoned each button of his fly. I pulled off his boots, smelling of the fragrant odor of fresh new leather. Jon's pants came off very hard, being so tight. Under was the white, white tight briefs that he wore. I thought he had an erection, but he was just that big. I buried my head in the brown curly hair of his pubis and teased his dick into action. I sucked on it, trying to milk everything I could from Jon.

I know I got naked and got a blow job too, but I don't remember that as well. I remember the smell of his body a musty, but pleasant odor. I remember the salty taste of his athletic skin and the feel of hard muscle under the very thin soft blanket of fat. I remember the sounds and gasps he made when he came. But most of all I think of the quiet peaceful look in sleep after we were done. I went to with my head on his breast.

Again, somehow we ended up in the twin beds of Jon's bedroom. 'I did it with a guy before?' Jon said.

'You have? This was my first time.'


'Your welcome, I liked it.'

'I did too.'

'I decided, no more.'

I paused considering. 'No more sex?'

'No more with guys.'

'I was that bad?' He laughed.

'No, I am going out with this girl.'

'I'm jealous.' We chuckled. I felt alone. I thought Jon might be going somewhere where I could not go. I wondered, I pondered. The lights went off and the room took on a glow from the street lights outside on the lawn. I could hear his breathing, regular now. I could not sleep for the thinking and feeling about the events of the night. I watched the heave of his chest above the single sheet in the well warmed room. His strong biceps lay outside the covers and his hands were comfortably at his side. I could see the contours of his body in the pale light.

Again, I cannot remember what happened next. I sometimes remember leaping on his wonderful body and sucking on him again. Sometimes I remember him sucking on me at the same time. It is a very pleasant memory but I do not know if it was a dream or reality.

I do know that Jon married that girl. If he doesn't fuck her every night, then it is because of an occasional thoughtful interlude. They have several children and I am the godfather of their oldest son. He did take a journey that I did not take. Whether I could not, I may never know.


Peter Maxly

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