Finding Tim
A Fourth Alternate Reality

 by: Charlie

© 2005-2008

 

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Episode 53
Transition

Lives consist of phases, perhaps eras.  Tim and I were pretty much in agreement that we were both completing phase IV of our lives.  We both thought of the time before the magical summer at Camp White Elk as the first phase.  For each of us it was quite different, and certainly it could be divided into phases as well.  But for both of us, the other part of the couple was the main marker of life, so Phase I was simply “the time that went before.”  Phase II was the time of letters.  Phase III were the deliriously happy months living in Minneapolis with Mom and Dad.  Phase IV was the equally happy years in Grand Forks.  Now that was coming to an end, and a new phase, which would at least begin in Washington was upon us.  We were both sorrowful and excited.  No one could possibly have had a happier college career–or law school career.  But we knew that life had to move on, and we were ready, quite excited.

 

The ending began with Billy’s wedding, which was wonderful.  Much of the collegiate diving fraternity showed up, including Coach Burns.  Stan came up from Indianapolis.  High school friends of Sara from Hibbing and Billy from Fargo came in droves.  Their college friends were there en masse.  Fred and my mom, Felix, most of the gang, along with Billy and Sara’s families filled the natatorium.  They’d decided to leave the church out of the whole thing.  The ceremony was led by Larry and a local judge, a good friend of Fred’s.  Tim and I could imagine them arriving in swimming suits, but traditional wedding clothes were the dress of the day.  Miracle of miracles, nobody got tossed into the pool–not even the bride or groom.

 

After the ceremony we moved into the gym–the building right next to the natatorium.  There the university food service had a huge buffet spread.  A combo, all friends of Billy and Sara, provided live music.  Everyone danced, ate, talked about events of the year, dives accomplished, medals won, people loved.  Sara looked to be the happiest girl in the world, and at that minute I think she was.  Billy couldn’t keep his eyes, or his hands, off her.  He did manage to resist having sex with her during the reception, but none of us thought the restraint would last!

 

They headed that night to a motel just outside Grand Forks.  The next day was graduation for Tim and me and they attended.  The next night was spent at Billy’s home in Fargo, and from there they set off on a trip out west, visiting many of the major national parks.  Sara told us later that they found a different way to have sex for each state that they went through.  “He got to fuck my ass every night in Utah!  We opted for celibacy in Idaho, and then drove through in one day–didn’t spend a night!”

 

By the time they were back, Tim and I were off to Europe.  They moved into our house, where Felix made them feel right at home.  They both got jobs that summer at one of Fred’s sporting goods stores–he made them work at different stores, realizing that he wouldn’t get any work out of them if they were together.  Billy dived at least two hours a day, and most of those hours Sara watched, or like me, swam gentle laps in the pool while Billy dived.

 

Regrettably the pool wasn’t the private place that Tim and I had had available during our first months together.  They had to dress in separate locker rooms, and head home for play.  Felix was invited to join them at night, but he declined–at least at first.  He was uncomfortable with the idea of having a sexual relationship with a woman.  “I’m gay!” he said.

 

“There has to be a little straight in you, let’s find out.”

 

Finally Sara convinced him that he’d enjoy being sucked, and wouldn’t know if it was Billy or Sara, man or woman, gay or straight.  He did  come down one night, closed his eyes, and allowed them to undress him.  They took turns sucking him, and defied him to tell him in whose mouth he had come.  After that, they fell into the same routine–about once a week–that Tim and I had gotten into with Felix. Felix never felt comfortable with his tongue inside of Sara–he left that to Billy, who was more than willing.

 

For Tim and me the next event was graduation.  Tim was afraid that the same kind of thing that had happened at his high school graduation would happen at this one.  He decided, wisely I think, to simply go with the flow.  No visits to the President to attempt to shape the event, no refusing awards, no nothing.  As the day approached we found ourselves busier with plans for the big wedding than thinking about graduation, which  started the morning after the wedding with a special ceremony in the law school.  We’d officially  graduate with the main University Commencement ceremony, but our individual recognition was in the separate law school presentation ceremony.  I’ve never been convinced that class rank should be a big deal, but law schools and military academies seem to think so.  So I crossed the stage first, shook hands with Dean Fry, received my diploma from President Edison, and then was invited to the podium for a valedictory address.   The podium was a huge affair, sort of half a hexagon.  It was all closed in, and hiding in the base was my little kid.  He couldn’t have gotten there without Dr. Fry’s cooperation, so I knew I’d been had.

 

I got out my notes and started to speak.  We weren’t wearing caps and gowns–that was reserved for the official graduation ceremony in the afternoon.  As I spoke there was a tweak on my knee.  I continued.  The tweaking started climbing my leg.  I continued.  My fly was being threatened.  I knew that if I wanted to have any clothes on before the speech was over, I was going to have to get Tim out of there.  That meant tossing aside the prepared speech, and talking about Tim, preliminary to introducing him.

 

Thank goodness it’s easy to talk about Tim.  My fellow students certainly knew who he was, most had met him.  It seemed appropriate to introduce him.  My verbal tact was to suggest that the law class of 1969 needed a mascot.  It should either be something that wore a ridiculous costume or was pulled around on a leash.  By a show of hands, the class voted for a leash.  I asked whether it should walk around on two legs or four.  It was close, but I called it as a slight majority for two legs.  Should it be allowed to speak or be mute.  Mute won, hands down.  Someone in the audience got the message and from somewhere produced a dog leash, which was handed up to the stage.  Dr. Fry brought it to the podium, and I leaned down and put it around Tim’s neck.  I whispered, “You asked for this.”

 

“Yeah, I did.”

 

He didn’t resist when I pulled him out.   We got huge applause as I handed the leash to Dr. Fry and proceeded to talk about the wonders of my partner Tim.  The whole thing was completely absurd, but everybody loved it.  As I left, I was handed the leash, and Tim and I walked off together.  I returned to my seat, and the people next to me squeezed together to make room for Tim.  At the reception afterwards, Tim’s leash was passed around to most of the class.  In almost every case, he was gently pulled off to meet parents, spouses, boyfriends and girlfriends. 

 

Then it was off to the main graduation.  I’d have loved to have been hiding in the podium when he gave his valedictory address–the only summa cum laude graduate that year–but I was seated with the law graduates.  At this ceremony we stood as a group and had our degrees conferred.  With almost a thousand graduates, only doctoral candidates and the valedictorian got individual recognition. 

 

Tim’s speech was a wonder.  He dreamed of the perfect university, and then as each element was discussed, spoke of how close or how far the University of North Dakota was to achieving the dream.  It skillfully combined a highly complimentary view of the University with an agenda for change.  For those of us who knew him, he was charting the course of the University over the next few decades.  Prexy certainly knew it, and afterwards was effusive in his praise of the speech.  Tim and Prexy both could see the future, and were delighted by it.

 

In about two weeks I had a bar examination to take.  I had the option, taken by most of my classmates, to study like mad all summer and take it in the fall.  Perhaps I was cocky, but I was convinced that I was ready.  Tim encouraged me in that belief, but still insisted that I spend every waking minute between graduation and the exam cramming information into my head.  He would not, however, let me stay up late studying.  “Sleep is much more important than anything you might happen to remember from studying late at night,” was his mantra–spoken like the morning person he was.  I still thought of myself as a night person, even though in the years with Tim I had never lived as such.  Nevertheless, I was simply not permitted to stay up late studying.

 

The actual exam was not as intimidating as I had feared–though it was long and challenging.  Tim spent the day getting the house ready for Billy and Sara, and packing what we would need for Europe.  We were off to his folks home in Minneapolis as soon as the exam was over.  Felix would mail the results to me somewhere in Europe.  It was a somewhat sad evening with Mom and Dad.  They realized that with our moving to Washington we would not see each other as often in the coming years.  During the past four years we’d gone back or forth quite often.  Certainly never a month would go by without one of us visiting the other.  Washington, requiring either two days driving or a plane journey would be a trip less frequently made.  And, of course, now we were off for an extended trip to Europe.  Mom and Dad didn’t resent our plans or our move–they knew it was the normal thing for grown children to do.  That didn’t make it any easier, as the four of us shared a mutual friendship unusual between the generations.

 

The next day they drove us to the airport and we were off to New York, and that evening off to Iceland on Icelandic Airlines.  As I had on my first trip to Europe, we spent a day in Reykjavik, walking around the town, visiting the hot springs, and experiencing one of the cleanest spots on earth–heating is from hot springs not from burning coal or oil.  The next day we were off to Luxembourg on Icelandic Airlines, and the next day the trip really started as we used our Eurailpasses for the first time. 

 

It would be pointless to make this simply a travelog of two young men’s trip to Europe.  We saw a lot, but in two months couldn’t see it all; in two months we couldn’t get to every country unless we raced so fast we couldn’t see anything.  We both were fascinated with the north country.  Tim had grown up in Minneapolis, and spent all of his life there or in places farther north.  I’d summered in Michigan, lived with Tim in Minneapolis, and now lived in North Dakota.  With that background, and the prevalence of Scandinavian communities in the areas we knew best, we headed north to Scandinavia.  Denmark was first, and our first train ride was on a night train headed for Copenhagen.   Riding on a Eurailpass meant that we rode in first class compartments, which seated six, but were seldom full.  In fact, we often were able to get a whole compartment to ourselves, especially at night.

 

We’d been advised that we should travel by night.  It is, in fact, a simple fact of Eurailpass life.  You have to travel a good many miles to make the pass worth it.  If you travel by day and sleep in hotels by night, you don’t have time to see Europe.  So, on the advice of good friends at the University who’d spent the previous summer in Europe, we generally followed a pattern of sleeping two nights on the train and then one night in a hotel.  Of course, in big cities where we wanted to spend some time, that pattern didn’t work.

 

Most Americans arrive in Europe in the morning, having flown all night.  But with our stopover in Reykjavik, we arrived in the afternoon and spent the night in a hotel.  We saw what we wanted to of Luxembourg the next day, and now were headed on the night train to Copenhagen.  We were sharing the compartment with a very attractive college age American couple.  They’d been married after their sophomore year of college, and now one year later were spending a summer in Europe.  Their plans weren’t dissimilar to ours–buy a Eurailpass, get on the train, see what you can, when time and/or money runs out–go home. 

 

We introduced ourselves as Tim and Charlie and they were Kelly and Philip.  The didn’t recognize us as anybody special, which pleased us immensely–the usual rounds of autograph signing, “Is it really you?,” “Oh, my God, I never thought I’d meet you”, did get in the way of pleasant conversation.  It turned out that Kelly was a costume designer and Philip a set designer.  They were technical theatre majors at Ohio State, and had been very successful in their fields in the student theatre at the University.  Sports didn’t interest them in the slightest.  Their theatre stories were fascinating, and they were good at telling them–managing to make them witty as well as informative.  We let them talk, but eventually they wanted to know about us.  Tim confessed to being a diver and me to being a lawyer.  We told stories about UND, including the Red Cross, the clean up, and the toilet, but we avoided the Olympics.  Tim dropped the name Prexy a couple of times without thinking about it.  The idea that we had such a close relationship to the President of the University impressed them, especially Philip.  We noted the difference in size of our schools, but I think they still figured out that we might legitimately be considered BMOCs. 

 

Tim had started right out by referring to me as his partner, and nothing was made of it.  When it became time to try to get some sleep, Kelly asked, “How’re we going to sleep in here?  These seats move to sleep three very well, but four isn’t so good.  Maybe one of us should see if we can find a compartment with only two in it?”

 

Tim responded, “If you two want to split up, that’s fine.  But Charlie and I are going to do fine right here.  These seats slide out and we’re just going to curl up together on this side.”

 

Philip said, “Then Kelly and I’ll just curl up on the other side.”

 

Kelly asked, “I hope I’m not being rude, but you said you were partners.  I take it that means you’re gay, not business partners.”

 

“Right you are.”

 

“No wonder you want to curl up together.”

 

“You got it.”

 

I think that both Tim and I were waiting for some kind of reaction, but it never came.  Oh for a world in which we weren’t treated any differently than any other couple!  Before the end of summer we would have all kinds of reactions to our sleeping arrangements:  “Disgusting.”  The conductor who told us we’d have to get off the train if we were going to sleep like that.  The two American teenagers who threatened to throw us off the train because they couldn’t stand traveling with queers.  That had ended when Tim stood up to his full five foot four height, grabbed one of the kids by the elbow and squeezed so tight I thought the kid was going to faint.  His elbow was being grasped by hands that swung from a trapeze, held the rings, supported Tim on the pommel horse, and now were almost crushing an elbow.  The kid’s eyes almost popped out from pain and surprise, and he and his friend beat a hasty retreat.  Kelly and Philip simply went to sleep.

 

The next morning we got to talking about plans in Copenhagen.  Neither of us had any reservations, or even any idea of where we’d stay.  All of us were clearly on a budget level trip.  Kelly suggested, “Shall we all share a room tonight?”

 

Tim said, “Sure.  But there is one thing.  I’m not interested in sex with anyone but Charlie, but I am interested in that.  I’m not going to be chaste on behalf of my roommates.”

 

Philip replied, “If you’re comfortable, we will be.  It’s going to be a new experience for us.  We’ll learn.”

 

I said, “We won’t push.  Tim just doesn’t want to be in a room where he can’t be himself, change his clothes, attack me; you know, just let loose the raging hormones of a teenager.”

 

“I haven’t been a teenager for three years.”

 

“I know, but you act like one.”

 

“You’re jealous.”

 

“Damn right I am.”

 

Kelly said, “We think we get the picture.  I think you two may be exciting.”

 

The train pulled in at ten a.m. and by eleven we’d found a cheap, large, inside room at the Royal Copenhagen Hotel.  It had two double beds, a toilet and shower, a couple of chairs and chests of drawers, and not much else.  It was all we needed.  Tim walked in, looked around, checked out the bathroom, took his clothes off, and headed for the shower. 

 

Kelly said, “He wasn’t kidding.”

 

“Not a chance.  I assure you he enjoyed doing that, and he was definitely testing you.  I think you passed.  But be warned, more tests are coming.”

 

Before long Tim came out of the bathroom with a towel over his shoulders and nothing around his waist.  Philip said, “I can’t wait for tonight.  This could be interesting.  But now, lets all head out and see the city.  At the very least I want to see Tivoli Gardens and the little mermaid.  We spent the afternoon as typical tourists, ate a nice dinner in Tivoli, and got back to the hotel about nine. 

 

I think we all wondered just what was going to come to pass that evening.  I was pretty sure what Tim had in mind, but I couldn’t predict Kelly and Philip.  I was quite correct: Tim did his usual instant strip tease, and started working on my clothes.  He paused and started to speak, but was interrupted by Kelly.  “Don’t worry about us.  We’re both curious and horny.  If you don’t mind we’re going to watch.  Then we’re going to have sex for the first time in our lives observed by someone.  It’s going to be a new experience.  I think we can deal with it.”

 

I grabbed Tim by the balls.  “OK, my little teenager, hop up on that bed.”  He did, and I finished undressing.  Tim hadn’t been hard till I grabbed him by the balls, but I was hard well before my clothes were off.  I knelt over Tim and leaned down and started sucking him.  At the same time I tickled his balls, and soon he was bouncing all over the bed.  I was doing my best to encourage him, and he was exaggerating things as much as he could.  Clearly the little imp wasn’t just having sex with me, he was having a ball showing off for our friends.

 

As he shot his load in my mouth he said, “Push my legs up and fuck me.  Use that load as a lube.”

 

I did what I was told, shoving my face into his butt so that I could deposit his cum.  Then I aimed my dick and shoved it in.  I came pretty quickly, and the two of us fell together on the bed.

 

Philip and Kelly very hesitantly got undressed, and then went into the bathroom to shower.  Frankly, we were a little surprised that they’d undressed in front of us instead of in the bathroom.  Soon they returned, climbed on the bed, turned out all the lights except for the bathroom, which lit the room dimly with the door ajar.  They kissed for a while and he slowly mounted her in the missionary position.  There was certainly a passion in their lovemaking, but both Tim and I got the clear impression that they did it the same way every time.  Variety was certainly the spice of our lives, and the idea of sex always being the same seemed perfectly dreadful to us.  We said nothing, but each of us knew what the other was thinking.  We moved into our spoon position and drifted off to sleep.  The room was warm, so we were nude and had no covers.  The others slept under a sheet.  When they awoke, the scene in front of them was Tim sucking me rather violently.  We became aware that we were being watched, and that heightened the sex.  I came, and then grabbed Tim and jacked him off–I could tell from his body language that that was what he preferred that morning–probably because it exposed him more to Philip and Kelly!

 

Kelly said, “When I suggested sharing a room, I was really only thinking of saving a little money.  It hasn’t turned out the way I expected.  Well, that’s not completely true.  I’ll admit that sexual fantasy was at least part of my motivation.”

 

“Is that good or bad?” I asked.

 

“I’m still thinking about that.  You guys are the most uninhibited pair I’ve ever met.”

 

“Think about it,” said Tim.  “Have you ever given another couple, gay or straight, a chance to demonstrate their lack of inhibitions?”

 

“Not really.  Philip and I move in a pretty staid crowd.”

 

“I thought Ohio State was supposed to be a fairly with-it place.”

 

“It’s so big, you can get lost in any kind of crowd you want.  The single undergrads can be a lively bunch.  The married apartments don’t swing very much.  The theater students talk a good line, but they don’t seem to do much.  Or, if they do, it’s the singles and they leave the marrieds out of it.”

 

“Yet you were willing to come with us last night, after Tim and I warned you pretty clearly.”

 

Philip jumped in.  “We’ve daydreamed together of getting out of our rut.  Maybe that’s why we’re traveling in Europe this summer.  We didn’t know  what we were getting into, but neither of us was inclined to chicken out.”

 

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

 

“So are we.”

 

Tim said, “So, Philip, do you want some help giving that girl a ride this morning?”

 

I said, “I’m just guessing, but I’d be willing to bet that Kelly’s never had a tongue in her pussy.”

 

Kelly didn’t look too eager, but she said, “That’s right.  I guess I’m realizing just how deep a rut Philip and I are in regarding our sex lives.”

 

I said, “So the question is, ‘Do you want to climb out of the rut or just widen it a little bit?’”

 

Philip replied, “We thought we knew.  But faced with the reality of this situation, I think that both of us are uncertain.  It never occurred to us that spending this night with you two would move us so fast.”

 

“That’s my Tim.  He moves very quickly down the sexual highway.”

 

Tim said, “We aren’t in the business of pushing.  All we said when we agreed to share a room was that we wanted to be able to get on with our personal lives without your being offended.  That’s happened.  If you’re eager to push the envelope, we’re pretty good at it.  But it has to be your decision.”

 

Kelly turned to Philip and asked, “Are you ready?  If you’re game, I am.”

 

“I don’t know where this is headed, but I’ll go along for the ride.  Tim and Charlie, we’re going to let you two be in charge.”

 

Tim and I were both naked.  When Tim heard Philip’s invitation, he leapt off the bed, ran to theirs and jerked the sheet off them.  He took one of their hands in each of his and led them into the open space between the beds, facing our bed where I was now sitting.  “Stand up and show off your equipment, kids.”  Philip wasn’t completely hard; Tim fixed that with a few strokes on the underside of his balls.  He kissed Kelly on both of her tits, and fingered her clitoris while he kissed her.  He stepped back and said, “You’re completely embarrassed, but that’s OK.  Embarrassment is very arousing.  Now both of you spread your legs and lean back so we can really see what you have.”

 

They complied with Tim’s instruction.  Tim walked over to Philip and grabbed his dick and squeezed.  While he held it, he tickled his balls.  Then he let go and said, “OK, now turn around and bend over and show us your backsides.  Spread your cheeks with your hands so we can get a good look.”

 

They complied.  Then Tim said, “OK, now face each other and take turns checking each other out the way we just checked you two out.”

 

With instructions from Tim they did just that.  They squeezed, peeked, poked, stroked, turned, bent, kissed, and rubbed for about fifteen minutes, all following Tim’s instructions.  Then he said, “OK, Kelly, up here on the bed, on your back.  The three of us are going to take turns with our tongues.  I’ll start.  He really went after her, starting with her vagina and moving to her clit.  Then he got Philip in place and told him to get his tongue inside as far as he could.  Then Philip was to lick, stroke, and thrust as far and as hard as he could, followed by stroking her clit.  Then it was my turn, and then back to Philip.

 

Then it was Philip’s turn on the bed and the three of us took turns sucking him, being careful not to let him come.  Then we helped Kelly to mount him cowgirl style and she got the first non-missionary fuck of her life.  They both seemed to be having a ball.  Inhibitions be damned.

 

Then Tim and I decided to push our luck a little.  While Philip was still laying on the bed, Tim climbed on him, missionary style, wrapped his arms around his neck, pulled him to him, and kissed him long and deep.  When he was done, I took his place and did the same thing.  Frankly, we’d found that gay kissing bothered many people more that genital activity.  We knew we were pushing.  Philip pushed back, squeezing us both tight, and pushing his tongue into us.  When he came up for air he said, “That’s sure a new experience for me, but you guys are so cool I couldn’t resist.”

 

Tim recited his mantra, “There’s a little gay in everybody.”

 

Kelly said, “I feel left out, I’m the only girl present.”

 

I said, “We can’t do anything about that, but I can kiss you.”  And I did.  So did Tim.  And so did Philip.

 

Tim said, “Let’s get dressed, have breakfast somewhere, and head out on the town.  Charlie and I are heading for Stockholm this evening.”

 

Kelly and Philip were going to spend a few more days in Copenhagen, so we’d be separating.  At lunch we invited them to look us up in Washington if they were in town in the next two years.  They gave us their address written on a sheet of paper.  Without thinking Tim got out his wallet and pulled out one of his personal cards.  It had our Grand Forks address on it, but he wrote our new Georgetown address on the back and handed it to Kelly.  She turned it over, and seemed puzzled by the little Olympic gold medal in the corner.  She showed it to Philip who immediately recognized it.  He sort of stared at Tim and then burst out, “Oh, my God.”

 

Kelly was still in the dark.  “What, Philip?”

 

“Do you know who this is?  This is Tim....”

 

“I know that.”

 

“Tim, as in the guy who captured every sports page in the country by winning some fantastic number of Olympic medals.  In two sports.  Diving and....  What was it?”

 

I said, “Gymnastics.”

 

“And you’re Charlie.  You won a medal in riflery or something.”

 

“Archery.”

 

Kelly said, “I’m so embarrassed.  We don’t follow the sports pages at all.  I’m surprised that Philip knows as much as he seems to.”

 

Tim was having a very hard time not bursting out laughing.  He did manage to say, “It was wonderful.  When you didn’t recognize us, it meant that we could be friends for what we see in each other, not because of some newspaper article–which would never have been correct.  Don’t be embarrassed.  I could bump into a famous movie actor and not know him from Adam–Charlie and I seldom get to the movies.”

 

Philip was quiet for a little while and then said, “We have the story of the summer.  We went to Europe, met Tim and Charlie, shared a room with them, had sex with them.  And we can’t tell the story!  Oh, man.”

 

Kelly said, “We certainly aren’t going to talk about the room sharing and sex.  We wouldn’t be believed anyway.  It’ll be hard enough to convince our friends that we met you two.”

 

Tim said, “Give me your camera.”  He took the camera, hailed the waiter, and asked him to take our picture.  Tim stood behind Kelly rather stiffly for the first picture; for the second he kissed her on the cheek.  “I think your friends will enjoy seeing one or the other of those.  You can take your pick when they’re developed.”

 

I said, “I’ll tell you what.  When you have the next stage production in which you both have a significant role, give us a call.  We’d like to see it, and we can spend the night with you two.  We don’t mind if you show us off a little!”

 

Tim said, “He’s serious.  Don’t forget to invite us.”

 

Philip said, “That would be the spring production.  I’ll be the set designer and Kelly will be the costume mistress for a big musical.  They’re deciding which one about now.  We’ll be starting design work in September.  It’ll be a major part of our studies this year–our senior projects.  We were very lucky that we got to work on the same production.”

 

“When you know the date, let us know.”

 

Kelly said, “Aren’t you worried that we’ll embarrass you by talking about last night’s adventures on a mattress.”

 

“Not in the least,” said Tim.  “I think you’d be much more embarrassed to have the story out than Charlie and I would.  The world knows we’re gay, and I don’t think it would be very surprised to learn that we aren’t totally monogamous.  But it’d be better for everyone if we all just talked among ourselves about last night.”

 

We soon left them, kissing goodbye all around.  Philip was enormously embarrassed, but we assured him that nobody in Copenhagen either knew him or cared if he kissed a man in the railroad station!

 

We’d been told to plan on eating dinner on the train ferry to Sweden.  So we set off for Stockholm on a train leaving late afternoon, arriving at the ferry about dinner time.  It was a lovely smorgasbord, and I’m afraid that we ate like pigs.  We were also discovered.  We were sitting at a table for two near a window when a boy of about 15 or 16 approached the table.  A little shyly he put forward a ferry brochure and asked if Tim and I would sign it.  Of course we did, and Tim asked him who he was, what he was doing on the ferry, where he was going, who he was traveling with.  At first the boy was almost too shy to answer, but he gradually warmed up to Tim.  He and his parents–at a table across the room–were touring for a month in Scandinavia.  The boy, Scottie, was a sports autograph collector.  He’d recognized Tim immediately in the buffet line, but not me.  His father had read more about us and told Scottie that he should get my autograph as well.  I think Tim was feeling a little impish: he invited Scottie to pull up to the table and join us.  I’m sure that he knew that Scottie’s parents would be perplexed at best, and he was getting a kick out of it.

 

Scottie turned out to be very pleasant.  A well-spoken young man after he got over the initial shyness, he told us about his autograph collection.  It was mostly baseball players, but any well-known athlete was sought.  He sent letters with reply envelopes, leaned over fences, and hung out at the players’ entrances of stadiums.  He had the autographs of several hundred major league baseball players and several hundred other athletes of all sports.  He didn’t mind autograph events where you paid a dollar or two to get in line–with the money going to charity.  But he was upset at a growing trend for players to essentially sell their autograph–usually for $5 to $10.  Scottie refused to ever pay an athlete for an autograph.  “Good for you,” was Tim’s response to that.  As an amateur, Tim hadn’t really dealt with the many ways that sports fame could be turned into dollars.

 

It would be a fun story to tell how Scottie became another Billy, but in gymnastics instead of diving.  But after sitting with us for about ten minutes and devouring a plate of food, Scottie went back to his parents’ table; we all waved across the room, and Scottie passed out of our lives forever. 

 

He was not, however, the only person in the room that recognized us–or at least Tim.  Gradually people realized that Tim was OK with being asked for an autograph.  Several came up and just asked to shake his hand.  It wasn’t a huge crowd, just an irregular trickle, but it kept up for the entire ferry ride.  Then we were on the train, sharing a first class compartment with two girls, obviously Scandinavian, who didn’t speak English.  That suited us fine as it allowed us to sleep.  As we moved around trying to figure out how to sleep four, the girls got up and checked out nearby compartments.  They found one with two other girls in it, and one of our compartment mates moved there.  That left only three in our compartment, so that we each could have two seats opposite each other.  They slid together, and made a fairly decent bed.  I think that at first the girls had been reluctant to separate and have just one sleep with the two American boys.  But I guess they decided that we were safe!

 

The next morning we were in Stockholm, and we headed for the University.  Tim had arranged in advance with the Gymnastics Club there to use their facilities for a couple of days.  They were delighted to have him there, and he planned to practice with them all one morning and most of two afternoons.  Several of the gymnasts would be competing with him in Munich the next month, and I think they were a little in awe of the competition they’d be encountering–though he was a known quantity since the Olympics.

 

We’d planned to stay at a hotel in Stockholm, but we were invited to stay with Hans and Elsa–a married couple who’d met as gymnasts in whatever the Swedish equivalent of high school is, and now worked out together at the University Gymnastics Club.  They didn’t seem the least put off by our being a couple, and put us together in their guest room with a double bed without batting an eye.  We took them to dinner, and we all returned to their apartment to talk.  They lay on a sofa together, as Hans’ hands gently roamed Elsa’s body–and he was not trying to hide the fact.  Tim and I sat in separate chairs, if only because their wasn’t another sofa.  As we sat there Tim said to me, “You wouldn’t believe the Club–they’re incredibly open about sex.  A number of the gymnasts–at least the men–are gay, and they don’t try to hide it.  They’re affectionate like we are, as are some of the mixed couples.  But it goes a lot further.  I looked up after one vault and there was a couple watching, he behind her with his hands openly cupping her tits.  Every now and then she reached back and squeezed his balls.”

 

“That’s pretty forward.”

 

“In the shower a couple of the men were standing in the water like we do, naked, pressed together, kissing.  Hard as rocks.  Their hands roamed.  Another guy came up and patted one of their butts and said something in Swedish–clearly sexual.  They both laughed and slapped at his dick.”

 

“You won’t see that in the US.”

 

Elsa said, “Don’t think this is typical of Sweden.  We’ve gotten very bold inside the Club.  We do things that we wouldn’t dare do outside–even in Sweden.”

 

Tim said, “It gets better.”

 

“How?”

 

“I looked up and Elsa walked into the shower room and joined Hans in the shower.  They kissed in the same way, and Hans got the same slap on the butt.  However, instead of slapping at the guy’s dick, they called out.  About a dozen boys came running in and they all grabbed the guy, pinned him down and Elsa jacked him off.  He tried to fight them off, but it was clear that he was laughing and was getting the punishment he expected.”

 

I asked Elsa, “Are you comfortable just walking into the men’s shower.”

 

“Oh, I have a locker next to Hans in his locker room.  Nobody minds.”

 

“Do boys go into the girls showers?”

 

“Yes, but it’s an adventure.  The girls are likely to handle you pretty roughly.  You’ll get it worse than poor Karl got today.  But somebody goes over at least every few days.  It’s a game.”

 

Hans said, “Elsa dared me once at practice.  Then she went and showered with the girls and I went in to get her.  They grabbed me–I knew they would–and pinned me down on the floor.  They bent my legs up, got out a dildo, aimed my ass at one of the shower flows, and pushed in the dildo.  I was told it wasn’t coming out until I climaxed.  I had to use my hand.  As soon as my sperm came they let me up, pushed Elsa and me together, and cheered as we kissed.”

 

“Is the whole Club involved in this stuff?” I asked.

 

“Several never do anything but watch.  That’s OK.”

 

“Do outsiders ever come in on you?”

 

“No the Club is closed except for team gymnasts from 2 to 6 everyday.  It’s an unwritten rule that the coaches never go into the locker or shower rooms.  Their offices are on the other side, and they have private showers.”

 

“Do they know what goes on?”

 

“Officially, no.  But of course they do.”

 

“What about other clubs?  For example, is the swim club the same?”

 

“No, they’re quite prudish.”

 

“What do they think of gays?”

 

“Nothing.  There’s no issue with gays here at the University.  But over at the swim club they avoid sex.  They’re prudes.”

 

During this conversation, Hans and Elsa had gradually been getting more sexually involved with each other.  The hand roaming had been replaced by their slowly removing each other’s clothes.  As Elsa had talked about the swimmers being prudes, she’d climbed on top of Hans and was now guiding his dick into her.  She stretched out full length on top of him, and they had at it.  Seeing couples fuck wasn’t outside Tim’s and my experience, but this was going pretty far.  We sat spellbound.  Hans and Elsa got their timing right and almost broke the couch as they climaxed. 

 

Hans looked at us, rather sheepishly, and said, “I hope you weren’t offended.  We sort of got carried away.”

 

Tim made no move to reciprocate, and I was thinking that we’d wait until we got up to the bed to have our own little party.  Then, all of a sudden, Tim grabbed my belt buckle and said to Hans and Elsa, “Help me out here.”

 

They did, and I was quickly stripped and held on the floor by Tim and Elsa.  I’ll have to admit that I didn’t fight too hard!  Hans soon had my dick in his mouth and proved to be fairly expert with his tongue.  I didn’t hold out long; nor did I try.  Hans moved over to Tim and undressed him quite sensuously.  Then Tim let Elsa take him in her mouth and do the same thing. 

 

That night as we spooned together I asked Tim if he’d known how far things were going to go when he accepted Hans and Elsa’s invitation. 

 

“Considering how far they went in the locker room, I had a feeling that things would develop.  The whole club seems to be as open about sex as the Gang back home.  I don’t know about you, but I think it’s healthy.  They seem to have great respect for each other, and their gymnastics seems cooperative rather than highly competitive.  And they’re very good–at sex and gymnastics.”

 

“You’re practicing with them again tomorrow afternoon?”

 

“Yes.  Want to come along?”

 

“Hell, yes, but only if I can shower with you.”

 

“I’m sure you can.”

 

The next morning we walked around downtown Stockholm and saw some of the sights of the city.  We ate lunch at a delightful café overlooking the water, and then took the tram to the University.   Tim knew his way to the gymnastics club and we headed there.  In most of Europe universities don’t sponsor athletic teams as functions of the University, as in America.  They’re organized as private clubs, which has the huge advantage that they remain essentially amateur sports, instead of the quasi-professional sports that American university sports, particularly football and basketball, are. 

 

I was welcomed, and I suited up in sweats, if for no other reason than it gave me a reason to join the group in the locker room and showers after practice.  I ran a little, and even worked the parallel bars a little–something I hated to do around Tim, as we weren’t in the same universe when it came to gymnastic ability.  But mostly I watched.  Watching Tim move through the air as a gymnast was like watching perfection in perpetual motion.  His skill and grace were mind-boggling, and the Swedes clearly thought so as much as I did.  They couldn’t keep their eyes off him.  I think some of it was sexual (it certainly was for me) but mostly I think they were aware that they were in the presence of something truly unique: a body that did exactly what its mind directed, and executed virtually impossible feats as if they were a child doing a somersault.   The Swedes aren’t exactly losers in the looks department, and these tall, lean young men, only half-clothed, certainly didn’t slow the blood flow to my mid-section.  My jock strap was strong enough to keep me from being embarrassed, but just barely.  The shower was clearly going to be a trip.

 

Tim had two conflicting tasks to accomplish: Get his own practice in and be as helpful as possible to his hosts.  They had the courtesy to let him practice, and he encouraged them to perform and allow him to make suggestions.  Over the years I’d been amazed at how much Tim could accomplish with an athlete in a short period of time.  When watching Tim coach I always remembered that middle of the night session with Billy: he would establish a very private rapport with the athlete first.  If they didn’t have the focus and dedication to respond to Tim’s efforts, then very little would be accomplished.  These young men were truly special.  They hung on every word Tim spoke, and responded magnificently.  I think the sexual play the day before had broken the ice.  Regardless, you felt that Tim was making lifelong colleagues, even though he wasn’t likely to continue the relationship.

 

One of the young men came up and sat beside me as I was watching the practice.  “You and Tim, you are gay?”

 

“Yes, we are.”

 

“Is that problem in America?”

 

“It hasn’t been for us, it is for many gay young men.”

 

“The same here.”

 

“I thought things were pretty open and accepting here.”

 

“OK at university.  Almost OK in Stockholm.  Not so OK in smaller cities.”

 

“Are you gay.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Do you have a partner?”

 

“Yes, Tor.”  He pointed to the young man currently talking with Tim–he was probably their best gymnast.”

 

“He’s very good.”

 

“Yes.  Very happy to have time with Tim.”

 

Tim and Tor saw us talking and walked over.  Tor spoke, in perfect English.  “Hi.  I’m Tor.  I see you two have met.  We’re going to see each other again in Munich next month.  Tim has suggested that we all room together.”

 

It was obvious that more than rooming together was on the agenda, and my jock strap felt a considerable increase in strain.  “That’d be great,” I said.

 

Tim said, “Tor’s best apparatus is the pommel horse, and it’s my worst.  If it’s OK with you, Charlie, I’d like to stay over an extra day.  I think Tor can help me on the pommel horse....”

 

“...and Tim can help me on everything else.  You two can stay with Vlad and me tonight, if you like.”

 

“We’d like,” both Tim and I said together.  I think that Tim and Tor had already decided!

 

Practice was ending and we all headed for the locker room.  As usual, Tim was the first one without clothes, and he stood and watched us get ours off.  His eye was clearly on Vlad and Tor, and a few of the others, and not me.  As he watched his dick rose to the occasion, and several of the boys (I think of them as boys, I think they would’ve used the term men; their boyish, hairless bodies, and the obvious delight they were taking in Tim’s nudity put them in the boy category for me) giggled a little and one brave young man pointed, while another actually got up enough nerve to touch it–very quickly.  I’ve never seen Tim’s hand move so fast: in an instant he’d grabbed the boy’s dick, pulled him gently toward him, and stroked his balls.  The kid came in Tim’s hand, getting cum down Tim’s leg.  I thought Tor was going to fall on the floor laughing, and everybody around joined in.  The young man was hugely embarrased, but Tim  laughed very gently and patted him on the butt.  “Thanks,” said Tim, “I needed that.”

 

We headed for the shower, and there weren’t many holds barred.  Actually, that’s not true.  It never got beyond hands, but we all got felt up and seriously goosed several times.  Things quieted down when Elsa walked in with Hans.  She said, “Don’t stop on my account.”  But things did stop, we all finished washing and headed back to the lockers. 

 

Tor, Vlad, Tim, and I headed for a restaurant and an inexpensive dinner, then home to Vlad and Tor’s.  As soon as we got inside and were sitting around in their little living room, Tor said, “Look, Vlad and I like to have sex with anything that moves.  We’d like to have sex with you two, but not unless you’re comfortable in that.  We can all sleep up in our big bed, or Vlad and I’ll sleep on the sofa here and you two can have the big bed.  Or, we’ll pair up any way you like.  You tell us; we’ll respect your decision.”

 

Tim said, “We knew the invitation would come, and we wouldn’t have come tonight if we weren’t going to say, ‘Yes’; I’m right, aren’t I, Charlie?”

 

“Certainly.”

 

Tim continued, “But you need to know our one rule, no fucking.  We don’t fuck other boys and nobody fucks us but each other.”

 

Vlad said, “Fuck is to girls, no?”

 

I said, “When it’s boys, it means up the ass.”

 

Vlad said, “Ass is arse?”

 

“Damn British,” said Tim, “Yes.”

 

Tor said, “We like fucking, but we like other things.  Tonight it’ll be other things.”

 

Vlad said, “Right.  Nobody pushes here.  We like people who don’t need to be pushed.”

 

I said, “You don’t need to push us on the ‘other things’.”

 

Vlad said, “How we sleep?”

 

I said, “We all sleep together.  If it gets crowded Tor and I’ll come down here, and then tomorrow while they sweat, you and I can practice here.”

 

Tim asked, “Tor, will it bother you if Charlie and Vlad spend tomorrow together.”

 

“Wonderful.  It won’t bother you?”

 

“Not at all.”

 

The four of us in the bed was a hoot.  Both Vlad and Tor were bigger than me, leaving Tim as the little toy for us to play with.  And did we play.   Every part of him felt our hands, fingers, lips, toes, you name it.  I think he came three times before sleep overcame us.  He did his fair share of damage as well, preferring to suck whomever was free as the other two went after him.  What a night. 

 

Tor and Vlad both had bodies of steel.  They reminded me of Hal’s legs.  Rubbing and stroking any part of them was a wild turn-on for me, and seemingly for Tim as well.  At one point I got Tor in a bear hug and squeezed him just as hard as I could.  God, pressing in on him was exciting; our dicks pressed together and my balls almost exploded.  Then Tor brought his hands down and cupped my buns and pressed us together even tighter.  Then I did come,  spewing cum all over our pubes and up to our navels.  When Tor realized what’d happened he pressed all the tighter.  I couldn’t move, and didn’t want to.  We were squeezed too tight for me to kiss him on the lips, but I turned my head to his cheek and kissed him long and hard.  We relaxed and got our lips together.  Immediately his tongue was almost down my throat, and I was pushing into him.

 

When we finally relaxed, Tim said, “Charlie, you never go for me like that; are you afraid you’re going to hurt tiny little me?  You aren’t strong enough, you know?”

 

I grabbed Tim, pulled him down on the bed, and squeezed him like I never had before.  His arms were incredibly strong, and his return squeeze took the breath out of me.  With arms stronger than Tor’s he gave it all he had.  I’d never thought of Tim’s as a body of steel, but I realized then how much I’d been missing.  I think that had we not been fairly careful we could’ve broken ribs that evening, but we just held each other tight for a long time.  When we finally came up, Tim said to Tor and Vlad, “I think we owe you a big debt.  We learned something about each other that we hadn’t known.  Thank you.”

 

Tim and Tor were off early the next morning, at least by my reckoning, heading for a quick breakfast and then to the club for a day of practice.  Tor was able to give Tim a few pointers on the pommel horse, but not much.  Tim’s problem was simply that his legs were short, and the inertia that you get by swinging long legs helps your program.  There was no way that Tim could really compensate for his short legs, and so he simply wasn’t cut out to be a medalist on the pommel horse.

 

As Tim and Tor talked about the various events, Tim mentioned to Tor the comments about fear that Frank had given to him.  Tor responded, “Yes,  I’m limited by my fear of falling from the high bar.  But what’s this about the circus?  Were you in the circus?”

 

Tim told him the whole story of his summer in the circus; his work on a high trapeze; and how Frank had suggested that that could translate into more spectacular programs on the high bar.  Tor was fascinated.  “A high trapeze.  Did you fly from one to another?”

 

“No, we were a small circus and only had room for a single trapeze.  Besides we didn’t have a big enough crew to have flyers and a catcher.”

 

Nothing more was said, and they continued their practice for the rest of the morning.

 

Vlad and I were left to our own devices.  He wasn’t highly enough ranked to be part of the team that was going to Munich, so it didn’t bother him to miss practice.  He clearly had the events of the morning mapped out, and they didn’t involve going very far from the bed.  “Tor and I always push arse, we don’t suck much.  Today I suck.”

 

“What’s this ‘push arse’?”

 

“You call it fuck.  ‘Push arse’ is the closest to the Swedish I can get.  I need to learn to use the word fuck for boys.  Can I put my finger in your arse?”

 

“Yes, if you’ll call it my ass.”

 

“Stick your ass up.”

 

I did, and with fingers kept moist with saliva, he worked his way inside me, easily finding my prostate.  Tim and I didn’t find this the most exciting part of sex, but in the hands of an expert, which I clearly was, it was a most exciting experience.  I had my first orgasm of the morning.  There would be more!

 

My lips and tongue, and sometimes teeth, were the instruments of choice; that Vlad had made clear.  I used them on his entire body, front, back, high, low, fingers, toes, mouth, ass and dick, you name it; my tongue found it.  Eventually I took his fairly large cock as far down my throat as it’d reach, and moving up and down gave Vlad his first orgasm of the morning.  There would be more!

 

Then my hands decided that they wanted to explore his body of steel.  He didn’t have a weight lifter’s body, with muscles sticking out everywhere.  It was smooth and even, but as hard as a rock–a gymnast’s body; a lover’s body; a huge bundle of sex.  Oh, God, was it ever.  Vlad sensed that I was totally aroused by fondling his entire body, and he let me explore to my heart’s content, ending by my squeezing and stroking his cock of steel.  As he came and I slowly relaxed, his mouth took my dick, and his tongue brought me quickly with gentle stroking.  His mouth gave my body a complete tour, ending with my third orgasm.  We got up, fixed juice and toast for breakfast–eaten naked at his little table–and then we headed back for the bed.  He wanted to try 69, though he didn’t know what to call it.  He thought 69 was a really funny term.  Evidently the Swedes, at least in his circle, didn’t do it by the numbers!  After the games of earlier in the morning it took a while to give us two orgasms, but we got there.  We tried side by side, and over/under (both ways), and ended up being side by side when we finished.  This was Vlad’s first time, and there’s no question that anything is more fun the first time.  “I can’t wait to do this with Tor tonight,” was his conclusion.

 

Tim and I would be on the train heading north that night, so it might be a while before I would try 69 again.  I wished Vlad well in his adventure that night!

To be continued...

 

Posted: 07/04/08