Chris

“Sure,” I said handing him his scotch after he pulled those lucky jeans off.

I was wrong; he was going commando. He took half of what I poured then bent over setting the glass on his pants; showed me his perfect ass, just like that. And I couldn’t take my eyes off him. “Am I doing this alone?” He questioned with eyes that could launch a thousand ships.
“You should never wear a shirt,” he told me after I took mine off. “And I’d feel better if you took that 45 out of the back of your pants.”

“Chris? Really? It’s a 9.” And I pulled it out dropping setting it on the rail. Those fuckin eyes of his.

He shook his head and kind of moaned pulling back. “You’ve got the hottest fuckin body,” he told my welcoming ears.

“Why are you working with your hands when you have a body like that?” I asked pulling the cover off.

I mean looking at a male model I really had to ask the question, “I’m not talking about porn or anything,” I affirmed, not that he wouldn’t be a star. It was obvious he trimmed a little but it showed he had avoided his neither region for a while.

Now was when he put on a little show for me. The view of him was intoxicating. His cock was kind of thick and as he washed the thing grew a little. What am I gonna let happen?

Ok. We have all had those conversations with ourselves in our head; should I do this or that, should I buy these pants or shoes; but not very often do you have a conversation like I was now. Well, at least for me.

The answer was yes. I mean whatever the question was, the answer was yes. I did the buttons on my jeans and felt a little embarrassed showing myself to someone after so… long. The smile and cute fucking look on his face washed all that away.

We met face to face under the water and I wanted to suck him; like a hunger. He touched me. I touched his chest as I had him half a lifetime ago. “Turn around,” he told me. And I did having no idea what he was going to do; I didn’t care.

Do you know? It’s hard to explain. His hands came from behind and went under my arms and around my throat, he didn’t squeeze, then they ran over my chest. It has been too fuckin long. He continued the journey ignoring my favorite part; we’ll just call it a ‘diamond cutter’; that’s what it fuckin felt like even though I was only half hard.

Like I said it had been too long, hands-on my body, hands that appreciated my body. He held nothing back; honestly nothing, but he didn’t touch my dick. Then he placed a couple of kisses on my back; what a flood of fuckin memories.

I pulled away; it was half a lifetime ago, but those lips on my back. His lips on my back, hands on my front, and his part between my legs; I could die a happy man right now. I reached back, took a cheek in each hand, I can’t even describe.

“I hope I feel like this when I’m your age,” he said in my ear still running his hands over my chest.

I was back in my head again, ‘that’s kind of a dick softener;’ I said to myself, and then he touched it. OK.

‘Get out of your head, Dude. Just get out of your fuckin head,’ I told myself.

He turned us and I didn’t even realize. He dropped to his knees so… fuckin slow, “Will you return the favor???” he asked with eyes that pleaded yes. And he licked my knob.

OK? I just died and I’m in heaven again. He kept looking up at me, blinking because of the water, taking more than half my dick, fuck.

“I thought you wanted to sit in the tub,” I asked pulling him up before I came.

He bent over again, grabbed his glass, and downed the rest. “Ready when you are.” And he stepped in the tub floating to the other side watching me.

“I got a lot of things I want to ask but I think I should know your name considering we’re sitting naked in a hot tub.” He tilted his fuckin head and smiled.

“Ryan,” I told him.

“So, how old is Ryan?” He asked as if I was the third person.

“Guess.”

“That’s not fair. But I would say thirty-five.” I smiled.

“I’m 46.”

“No fuckin way. My dad’s 46 and you look way better than he does.”

“I didn’t have kids that drew lines on my face or make me a hard ass. Next time you see your Dad, look close and wonder what lines you put on his face.” And I could tell he was pondering just that.

I climbed out picking up his glass and showing my ass at the same time. What was I thinking pouring us each a double, neat? As I walked back out he had just cum up with wet hair and he shook his head and brushed water off his face then slicked his hair back.

Ok. This had to be a dream. I’m talking it had to be. I must have passed out and this was a big dream that would sadden me when I woke up. I was looking at a wet, young, god. Shit like this just doesn’t happen to a guy like me.

He floated across and stood, his face eye level to my crotch, and took one of the glasses from my hand. He downed half of it, set the glass down, and floated back to the other side. “Did I totally miss-read all of this or are you just playing hard to get?” And he ran a hand over his face again.

I stepped in taking most of what I’d poured and set the glass down as I sat across from him again. His look said he wanted an answer. “No, you didn’t read anything wrong. I’m not playing a game.” And I reached back finishing my glass.

“I have not been with anyone since I was twenty-five.” I’d never said it out loud and it sounded pathetic.

“I still can’t believe you are as old as my Dad?”

“Well, I am. How do you see this ending, Christian?” And his eyes got big.

“How did you know that?” He asked.

“Christopher didn’t fit, Christene, totally didn’t fit. Am I wrong?” He shook his head.

There was a short silence then he floated over, standing reaching for his glass, and finished it. His dick was right there, not a foot from my face, I am so… fuckin, fucked.

He sank down next to me and another short silence ensued. “Can I assume your drunk ass, isn’t driving my drunk ass, home?” And he knew the damn answer.

The lights came on, floods and coloreds, it looked totally different in the dark with lights. “I’m already home, you don’t need to go home. I’ll go get the bottle.” And I stood.

My dick was so close to the lips and tongue who’d already made intentions clear. I got out and dripped to the bar. I reached to the top shelf grabbing a bottle that was half full. What am I doing?

“That’s expensive shit.” And I nodded.

“They’re is Scotch, and then there is Scotch.” And I poured two glasses half full.

“Why are you sitting here with me, now. Why aren’t you with a guy or girl your own age?” I just didn’t get it.

“Drama. I can’t deal with all of it.”

“This isn’t me Chris. I don’t do this kind of thing like what happened tonight, and who says you aren’t looking at drama right now?” He had no idea the shit-suit-case the guy sitting next to him carried.

“So? I assume I’m spending the night; hopefully not in my truck?” And he took half the shot I’d poured.

“First, this is sipping Scotch unless you’re just going for effect this is sipping Scotch. Second, you’ll need to stay in the house because the dogs roam at night.” And I did the best to keep a straight face.

I couldn’t hold it anymore; “I’m fuckin with you.” And I noticed relief appear on his face.

He stood refilling our glasses, his dick dangling in my face, my eyes closing as my mouth opened; he sat down next to me again.

Wait? What? I thought it was perfectly clear; guess it wasn’t.

“Wanna fuck around?” And he looked over at me.

I mean? What does that mean? Let’s start with; wanna. that has multiple meanings. Would you like too? Do you want too? And my favorite, should you and me? Then there was ‘fuck around’?

OK, again multiple meanings; and I reached back for my glass. “Christen?” And I looked at him.

“I have already told you that the last time, for me, was before you were born. You will sleep in the guest room and maybe in the morning we will ‘fuck around’.