Friends' All
by:
Will B
(Copyright
2007 by the Author)
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are
allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
Chapter 1
Note: Some terms in this story may not be familiar to anyone outside the Baltimore are, so they are marked with an asterisk and will be explained at the end of this chapter: Will.
This story reintroduced four characters from two of my other stories. Pete and Joe first got to know each other in “Brothers All,” and Al and Steve made their debut in “Looking Ahead.” The story is set in Baltimore in the summer of 1963. Milford Court is imaginary, but other places and institutions are real. Any resemblance between the people in these chapters and actual people is purely coincidental.
(Sssssssshhhhhhhhhhh. \!/) “Oh that smells so good,” Al Johnson said to his lover, Steve Green.
“Want some more, hon?” Steve asked Al.
“Do I ever. Let me have it,” Al begged.
“OK, here it comes.” (Sssssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhh \!/)
“I could drink this stuff all morning,” Al said, with a wide grin.
“But you’ve already slurped down three cups of coffee, you caffeine addict, you!” Steve grinned back.
Steve and Al were sitting in the kitchen of their house at 35 Milford Court. It was Saturday morning, and neither one had to go to work, so they were just sitting in boxers and tee shirts.
Steve was wearing a Colts tee shirt and blue boxers. If one looked one could see a nice bulge at the crotch. Al was wearing an Orioles tee shirt with red boxers. He also had a tasty looking bulge at the groin.
(Some readers may not know that the Colts and Orioles were Baltimore’s professional football and baseball teams).
Al Johnson was 46 years old, 5’10” with brown hair and hazel eyes. He had been a widower since his wife had died three years earlier. His son and daughter were grown, and on their own, living in other parts of the country. He still lived in the house he and his wife had bought 20 years earlier. He worked for a computer company that was developing a small experimental model of a computer that could fit on a desk. He and Steve Green had been long time friends, but only a few months before had become first lovers and then partners. Steve had moved in with Al, and in fact, had bought half the house so that the property was in both their names.
Steve Green was also 46, 5’11” with black hair and blue eyes. He was a childless widower. His wife had died eight months ago, and he had been pretty much out of it for a while until he made contact with Al, an old friend. He was an assistant manager for a men’s clothing store.
“Did you see the story in the Baltimore Sun that the U.S. Army Map service is retiring Univac 1, one of the country’s pioneer computers,” Al asked Steve. It’s been working 24 hours a day, six or seven days a week for over ten years.”
“Yes, I did, Al. Do you think computers will ever be small enough that individual citizens can own one?” Steve asked.
“That’s what our company is working on,” Al replied.
The noise of a large truck made both men look out the window. They saw a moving van pull up outside 37 Milford Court. The movers carried furniture, and then many boxes, into the house.
“Wonder who our neighbors will be?” pondered Al.
“Just hope they’re nice,” responded Steve.
At that point an old Chevy pulled up, and parked in front of 37. Two young men, in their late 20s got out, and went into the house. After an hour, the movers came out of the house, got into the van and drove off. The two young men came out on the porch, waved to the movers and went back inside the house.
“Ya know, Al,” said Steve. “When new people moved into the neighborhood, my mother always used to bake a cake or pie to take over to them, as a sort of welcome.”
“Yup, Steve,” Al replied. “My mom used to do the same thing. You know, I’m not much at baking, but I grill a mean steak. Wadda ya say, we put some shoes and clothes on, and go over and invite our new neighbors to come to dinner tonight. We can eat out on the deck. We’ll invite Sarah Schultz, and maybe she’ll make some of her apple strudel.”
“Good idea, Al. Let’s do it,” said Steve.
A few minutes later, Al and Steve walked up to the front door of 37 Milford Court. They rang the bell, and in a minute the door was opened, and two good-looking young men stood there. They were in their late 20s, and were dressed only in tee shirts and jeans. They were kind of grubby, having been unpacking, but they had pleasant smiles.
Al introduced Steve and himself as their next-door neighbors.
“I’m Pete Harris,” said the younger man, “and this is my cousin Joe Jones.”
Steve and Al noted that Pete was about 25, 5’9, tall. Joe was probably 27, and 6’1” tall.
Steve said, “We know you just moved in this morning, and you probably still have a lot to do, but Al and I were thinking that maybe this evening, you would like to take a break from setting up, and come over for dinner, on the deck.”
“Don’t worry about dressing up,” Al added. “We’ll probably just be wearing short and tennis shoes. We’re going to invite Sarah Schultz. She is the widow who lives on your other side, at # 39.”
Pete and Joe looked at each other, their eyebrows telegraphing a couple of unspoken questions.
Al continued, ”It would really be a good way to get to know us and Mrs. Schultz. We’re gonna be neighbors. I’m gonna grill some steaks, and we’ll have some potato salad and cole slaw, perfect for summer, and we’re gonna ask Sarah to make some apple strudel.’
“Gee,” Pete said. “It sounds great, but…. Are you sure?”
Steve looked at the two guys and how they acted towards each other, and decided to take the plunge. “Guys, we’re gonna be neighbors, and I hope we will get along, but I guess I’d better tell you….” He looked at Al, and took his hand. “You see, Al and I are… a couple, you might say. Better you hear it from us than from any neighbors.”
Pete and Joe looked at each other and grinned.
“Yeah,” said Pete. “We’d love to come. But we’d better tell you also, that Joe and I…. are also a couple. We’ve been together for ten years.”
“That’s right, Pete,” chimed in Joe, “and we’re as much in love, if not more so, now, than we first got together.”
“That’s great!” Al said. “I’m gonna fire up the grill at 5:30, and we’ll eat about 6:30, so come on over any time after 6:00.”
“Boy, thanks, guys. You want us to bring anything?” Pete asked.
“Hey, you two, you just moved in, and you’ve got more unpacking to do, and you may want to rest for a while. This party’s for you. Just show up with your appetites,” Steve assured them.
Al and Steve said good-bye and went home to call Sarah Kahn to invite her. As Al guessed, she offered to make some apple strudel, and maybe bring a few other goodies. She was anxious to meet the new neighbors too.
Pete and Joe shut the door and looked at each other.
“Know what, Joe?” asked Pete. “Let’s get the bed set up, and our clothes unpacked, and then take a short rest, but I’ll tell you what—I can think of one appetite I have that won’t be able to wait for dinner!”
Feigning ignorance, Joe asked, “And just what appetite would that be my man? I’m feeling sort of peckish* myself—or my pecker is acting lonely, just wanting something to do.”
Pete leered at Joe and said “Let’s go upstairs and see what we can do to satisfy our appetites!”
The two lovers went to their bedroom, set up the bed, springs, mattress, and put clean sheets on the bed. They looked at each other.
They embraced and began to kiss, their tongues doing that old, but ever new, tango of love. As they embraced they slowly undressed each other, each unbuttoning the other’s shirt, each unbuttoning and unzipping the fly on the other’s jeans.
They stepped out of their jeans, and kicked off their shoes.
Now they saw each other in all their hot, horny, masculine, studly glory. It was a sight they never got tired of seeing.
Joe saw Pete Harris, 5’9, with his now 6½ and growing cut cock, with a smooth chest, and hair only on his pubes, and in his arms pits.
Pete looked at Joe, all 6’1, with his now 7½” rigid cut cock. Joe’s chest, pits, and pubes were covered with fine dark hair, with a treasure trail from his navel to his shaft.
Joe said lustfully, “Me Tarzan, you John. I want to swing on and suck your vine.”
Pete replied, “Ah, I’m Fireman Pete, and I am aching to slaver all over your pole.”
They lay down on that freshly made bed, in a 69 position, and each began to lick his lover’s body. They started with each other’s navels, and licked and kissed their ways down to the beautiful organs that were erect and starting to lick precum.
They licked up the underside of the shafts, and they each swirled their tongues around the glans of their lover’s cock.
As if on a given signal they began to suck their partner’s helmet and shaft. Their hands were roaming over their partner’s body, exploring the navel as if it were the opening to another love chute, finger-fucking and double and triple fingering their mate’s ass hole.
Three time they each almost came, but ten years of loving had taught them to read each other’s body signals, so three times they each released the magnificent “all day sucker” they were licking and slicking so that their partner backed away from the edge.
When their ejaculations came they were immense. Ropes of white cum shot into two eagerly waiting mouths and were quickly swallowed.
“I guess we have dedicated these sheets,” said Joe.
“We can change them tomorrow, put them in the wash, and put them back on the bed in the morning,” said Pete, with a sleepy but sexy grin.
* ** *
In the next house, Al and Steve had checked that they had plenty of steaks, and plenty of potatoes for potato salad, and the makings of cole slaw. There were enough sodas, beer, and wine for an army. There was plenty of charcoal and lighter fluid.
“Looks like we’re all set for tonight,” Al said.
“Yep, it’s gonna be a nice party,” agreed Steve. “But you know, Al, I’d kind of like to start our own party now.”
“Izzat so, stud! What did you have in mind?” asked Al, as if he didn’t know!
“Well, fellow stud, I have this hole that needs filling, and I don’t mean my stomach!”
“Oh, I see,” teased Al. “You want me to put q-tips in your ears. Well, OK.”
“No, that’s not what I meant, ass-hole.”
“What did you mean, Steve? You know I’m just a dumb country boy.”
“Tell you what, Al. I’m going upstairs. Give me five minutes to get ready, and then you come up, and see if you can guess which hole I want you to fill.
Steve went upstairs, and Al made sure the front and back doors were locked, and then went to the foot of the stairs.
“OK, Steve, I’m on the first step, and I’m taking my left shoe off.”
“Hurry, Al. I’m getting hot.”
“Now I’m on the third step, and I’ve got the right shoe off.”
Steve moaned, “Get your fucking hot body up here, NOW!”
“Now I’m on the sixth step and I’ve got my tee shirt off, and I am rubbing my nipples.”
Steve moaned again. “If you don’t get up here right away, I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”
“Now I’m on the top step and I’m completely nude. My cock is getting hard and it’s leaking a little precum.”
“Al, get in here and out your cock in my ass, and FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF ME. NOW!”
“Oh, Steve, why didn’t you say that was what you wanted? I’m coming right away,” said Al, and he went into the bedroom.
“Give it to me fucker. Fuck me with your hot cock. I want you in me now,” Steve roared. “And you can’t take it out until I say you can.”
Al almost laughed out loud. Steve was on his back, with his legs in the air. He had put plenty of hand lotion on his butt cheeks and in his hole, and he had a sign partially under his butt. It read ‘Put your prick in hole and fuck hard!’
Al was a good citizen. He always obeyed the instructions, so he lay on top of Steve and kissed him passionately and moved his engorged member into the waiting tube of paradise. When he was in far enough to reach Steve’s prostate, Steve gave a yelp of pleasure, and moved his body up and down so that Al could go in even farther.
The two men fucked for an hour and then fell asleep in each other’s arms with their bodies coated with cum, and a smile on their lips.
To be continued.
My thanks to DD and E for advising me on this story. They are great guys.
Let me know if you enjoyed this chapter.
*puckish: slightly hungry or very hungry. It all depends.
Feedback always
welcome:
Author's note:
The author thanks Tickiestories for hosting the stories and the webmaster for his advice in setting it up.
Posted: 07/13/07