Short-Term in Chicago Ch. 02

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Please read part 1 to have a better understanding of what's going on. Before I get a dozen emails telling me how irresponsible I am for not including condoms...you're right. My only defense is that this is written as a fantasy, not an instruction manual. Get tested often, and play as safely as possible at all times.

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I truly appreciated John's efforts to give me a farewell party upon the completion of my work in the Windy City. Many of his friends had become my friends, and the company of so many professional, intelligent people made my stay more pleasant than I imagined. The guests had departed, and I was sitting in John's living room, sipping coffee and rubbing Red's ears while I watched him gather the remaining dishes. It occurred to me the irish setter that had it's head in my lap might be the one soul I would miss the most. I briefly thought about getting a dog when I returned to California, but I knew my lifestyle wouldn't be fair to the animal.

"Is there anything I can help you with? You've worked hard enough on dinner as it is." I asked, noticing more dirty wine glasses in the living room.

"Of course not...the major stuff is done anyway. All that's left is a few glasses here-and-there. Besides, I think your jogging buddy is shamelessly taking as much time with you as he can get." John said, looking at his dog which had draped itself over my lap.

"He's been a lot of company. Seems like an extended rub behind the ears is the least I can do for someone who helped me get so many dates."

"If I could just get his charms to work its magic on more of the boys, then I'd be a happy man." John said, with a broad smile.

"I'll admit that I don't have much of a sense for gay relationships, but it seems like Ben is more than a little interested. He seems pretty focused on you most of the time."

"Yeah, well...we had a "thing" about a year back. We're still good friends, but I know I don't want to go down that road with him again. Let's just say he has more baggage than I can handle, and leave it at that." John said with a cool seriousness.

"Ooh...sorry...didn't mean to intrude or pour salt on any wounds. In an effort to change the subject, is your offer to help me pack still good? I don't have much, but would like to leave Steve's place looking like no one had been there."

"Absolutely...but trust me, Steve wouldn't notice if you left a week's worth of dishes in the sink. He has a maid that comes in a few times a week."

"Wow...how did I manage to leave that out of my lease agreement?" I said with a chuckle, moving Red off my lap and getting up to put my cup in the dishwasher.

I helped with the last few items, offered my gratitude for a very pleasant evening, and went across the hall to my rented condo. The next morning's packing job wouldn't be difficult, but I knew that John could help me make sure everything was where it should be. Damn, I was going to miss that huge shower.

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I got up early the next day and started packing, leaving only enough items to get me through the next two days. At around ten o'clock, I heard the doorbell, and knew it would be John coming over to help. I opened the door to find him wearing a well-worn set of hospital scrubs.

"Are you expecting to perform impromptu surgery?" I asked, sarcastically.

"No, smartass...just didn't want to put on a suit to help pack your shit." John replied, punching my arm as he stepped through the doorway.

"Hey, whatever...but I promise I left all the greasy car parts in California."

We worked the next few hours, getting things in boxes for the shipping company, shooting the shit, and basically just getting things done. Around noon, we had a local sandwich place deliver some lunch, and went over to John's place to avoid making a mess. When he took a seat on one of the counter stools, I noticed the outline of his junk as it came to rest down his left pant leg. "Huh...he's going commando", I thought to myself before quickly moving my gaze in another direction. At that moment, my mind flashed with images of the unexpected experimentation I shared with John. In retrospect, the whole thing seemed almost surreal. As I shook the thoughts from my head, and focused on lunch, I realized that I had to respect John for keeping his promise. Not since the last encounter, had he made anything resembling a sexual advance.

"Hey man, where's your head? You seem to be deep in thought." John asked, bringing my thoughts back to the present.

"Oh...just thinking about all the shit I'll have to take care of when I get back home. This three-month field trip has been interesting, but aspects of it have been a pain in the ass."

"I can understand. I know everyone at the dinner last night will miss you. Any chance you'll be back around?"

"I'm not sure. It's likely I'll make a follow-up visit with this vendor...but it may only be a once-a-year thing."

"Well...don't forget us when you're back in town." John said, finishing his sandwich and tossing the wrapper in the trash. "Let's get those boxes downstairs to the storage closet, and we can relax the rest of the night. Maybe you can even squeeze-in one more date with one of the ladies you're leaving behind."

"I had three dates that went beyond a nice evening out. You make it sound like I'm leaving behind a trail of broken hearts. I've said my goodbyes on very good terms. It's best not to muddy the waters at the last minute and risk leaving the wrong impression."

"I know...I know...just didn't want you to be bored, looking at an empty closet." John said with an easy laugh.

We made a few trips in the elevator, moving my stuff to the storage closet where the shipping company could find them. John and I had both started to sweat, and I could see the back of his shirt clinging to his shoulders and down the center of his back. The thin fabric of the old scrubs was nearly translucent with sweat, and the muscles of his back were visible with every move. Once again my thoughts drifted to previous events...a mix of disbelief that I had ever done anything like that, and realization that I would likely never repeat it. My first foray into taboo sex was spurred by repressed curiosity, and the knowledge that the whole situation was temporary. I would go back home, and never face a scenario like that again.

After all the boxes were stored, and we rode the elevator back upstairs, I found myself staring at John as he leaned against the metal wall. He was attractive, physically fit, professional and intelligent...but still just a guy. John was not at all what I naively thought a gay guy would be like. He could talk about sports, was not unwilling to discuss his early attempts at going straight, and admitted that pussy wasn't all that bad. He had no deep love of show tunes, or rainbow-colored décor. If I was meeting him again for the first time, I'd have no clue to his alternative lifestyle. John had become someone I trusted and enjoyed spending time with...a true friend. The elevator stopped, and we returned to John's condo for a cold beer. Over the last few hours, there was something I wanted to tell him, even though I knew it didn't need to be said. I was starting to have a sense of loss with my departure only a day away, and knew that I would miss his friendship.

"Man...I want to thank you. You've made this detour easier than it could have been, and I'm grateful for that." I said, feeling slightly nervous, but not knowing why. "I...uh...shit...it's just...I wanted you to know that I really am cool with what happened a few weeks ago. We never really talked about it afterwards...and I struggled with it a little...but...well...it is what it is, and I just wanted to make sure you weren't still having a guilt-trip over it."

John smiled, took a long drink from his beer, and paused a moment before replying. "Thanks, Glen...I do still feel like an ass, but I appreciate you letting me off the hook. I'm glad you found a way to put it in perspective and move on."

"You kept you word...and that made it easier. You could have told a scandalous story to your friends...but you kept your mouth shut. I guess you could say that saved my opinion of you." I said with a nervous chuckle.

There was a tense pause in the room. As though both of us wanted to say more, but didn't know how. The tension was broken when John's cell phone started ringing. Apparently, he was on call this weekend for the hospital.

"Sorry Glen...I have to go do my thing. It's just an appendix...hasn't burst yet, so I should be back in three or four hours." John said, mindlessly taking his shirt off and tossing it in the laundry room.

"No problem...in fact, gives me a good excuse to take Red out for a jog. Text me when you're done, and I'll get some Chinese take-out for dinner. I'm not anxious to dirty anything in the kitchen."

"Sounds good...catch 'ya later, man." John replied, walking to his bedroom and closing the door.

I went back across the hall, took a shower, and got ready to take Red out for his walk. When I returned to John's condo, he was already gone, but his furry companion was eager to see me with the collar in my hand. The walk in the park was interrupted by the usual number of attractive women willing to make small-talk while rubbing Red's ears, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I kept thinking about the experience with John, wondering if it had changed me in anyway. The answer seemed to be "no"...that kind of activity had never been part of my life before, and I couldn't see it fitting in with my friends or lifestyle in California. In truth, it seemed to be a special event, focused on one individual, in a unique situation. Yet, I couldn't help but think that I wanted it one last time. The thought of repeating, what to me was such a raunchy and taboo thing, caused a stirring in my groin. This would be the end of it...a life experience I could check off my list...but with someone I trusted as a friend.

About an hour later than expected, John sent me a text saying he was on his way home. I ordered the food, and was pulling out plates when he came in the door. By now, I had turned into a nervous wreck. For the past several hours, I argued with myself about what I really wanted. The idea of trying to get sex out of another dude was simultaneously intriguing and repulsing. I had no idea how to approach the subject, or if my resolve was strong enough to actually do it. By the time dinner arrived, I had convinced myself that this was just a phase that needed to end. My conviction started to erode, however, after an hour of bullshitting about baseball, work, and cars.

"Is there something bugging you, Glen? You seem...I don't know....a little distracted." John asked, as he grabbed two more beers and sat next to me on the sofa. "This is my fault, isn't it? What I did to you really messed with your head."

"No...please stop beating yourself up over that. I'm honestly cool with it." I answered calmly, even though my throat began to tighten. This was my last opportunity to step over a line I never imagined I'd cross. "You know...I should be honest...if it weren't for the knowledge that I was leaving soon and unlikely to return, I wouldn't have let you do it."

"Well...again, I'm sorry...and now that I think about it, it was probably the same for me. I confessed my "thing" for straight guys...and I allowed myself to go too far, knowing you wouldn't be here forever." John leaned back on the couch with a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. "I'd say that definitely makes me a fucked-up predatory jerk"

"We're grown-ups, man. If I felt that way about it, I wouldn't be sitting here." I said, instinctively grabbing his leg above the knee and giving it a friendly shake. It was an innocent enough gesture...nothing two buds wouldn't do...but I found my hand shaking, and lingering on his leg. I stared at my hand as though it were separate from my body...my thoughts begging it to move, but my muscles unable to pull it away. I chugged on my beer and sat back on the sofa, my hand still on John's leg as it pulled upward on his thigh.

John didn't move, and didn't say anything. He just sat there with eyes still closed as my hand simply remained in-place. My eyes kept darting back-and-forth...glancing at my hand, his face, and finally at his crotch. I could detect movement behind the fabric of John's pants, and felt a stirring between my own legs. I was becoming overwhelmed with the need to feel the heat and strength of another man in my grip. Never in my life had I ever wanted this before...but a bewildering sense of lustful novelty and danger began to creep over me.

"Oh man." John said, with a yawn and standing up from the couch. "I'm going to take a quick rinse and get the hospital smell off me." He said, stretching his arms and bending his back...highlighting the bulge in his pants. "Maybe even a cold one."

I said nothing in return, and watched him walk toward the bedroom. John didn't close the door, and a few moments later I could hear water running in the shower. I had to respect him for this approach. By walking away, we could both see my clumsy gesture as nothing more than innocent contact, and he could avoid seeming to pressure me. The ball was now fully in my court, and my stomach churned with nerves. "You don't need this...you're not fucking gay." I said to myself. "But it was fun...in a different sort of way." My mind reeled with contradictions. "You know you'll never do this again. It might make John feel better." I told myself, trying to pretend my desires were less about me, and more about easing a friend's conscience.

I drank the last of my beer, took a deep breath, and stood up. My legs seemed wobbly as I stepped slowly into John's bedroom. Only one lamp on a nightstand lit the room, and I could see John's clothes in a crumpled pile at the foot of the bed. "Oh fuck...get a grip!" my voice said within my own mind. I took another deep breath and entered the bathroom. The layout was similar to the large space I enjoyed in Steve's condo, but had a more modern feel, with lots of glass and stone. John was standing behind the clear glass walls of the shower...his hands against the wall, with the water streaming down his muscled back and toned legs. My hands were still shaking as I pulled off my shirt and stepped out of my jeans. I was half-hard as I walked into the shower and stood behind John. Reaching out with my arms, I gripped his shoulders and gave them a firm rub. I would have used a gentle touch, and traced a finger over a woman's body...but I wanted this to be about men, interacting like men. Tenderness wasn't going to help me get through this, and I wanted John to know that from the start.

"Feels good...but you don't have to do this." John mumbled as I kneaded his shoulders. "Don't do anything you're not interested in, just to relieve my guilt."

"Oh...I think you caught my interest." I replied, stepping closer and pressing my swelling cock into the crack of his ass. "I'm not sorry you showed me something different. Just be aware that I can't ever see myself doing this kind of thing ever again...with anyone else." I moved one arm around to his chest, taking note of how different it was to feel another male body this way. My hand rubbed across the neatly trimmed hair on John's chest...the firm muscles of his pecs feeling so different than the silky softness of female breasts.

"Damn...this place is going to be dull when Steve gets back." John said, reaching back between his legs, teasing the head of my cock and brushing the bottom of my balls.

I continued tracing my hand down John's chest and rippled abs until my fingers met the base of his shaft. John stood up, pressing his back to my chest as I wrapped my fingers around his swollen tool. I could feel the heat and hardness under the silky outer skin as I slowly stroked the only other cock I had ever touched.

John grabbed a bar of soap and slowly turned around, our hard cocks bouncing against the other. "If this is truly your last time, then we're going to make the most of it." John said, gripping our dicks together with a soapy hand, while the other lathered my chest. "I think it's always more fun when everything is squeaky-clean."

I just stood there, enjoying the firm touch as John soaped my body. Once satisfied my front was sufficiently clean, he wrapped his arms around my torso, pressing his body against mine while roughly sucking and biting at my neck. His slick hands ran down my back and over my buttocks. After giving each cheek a firm squeeze, John slid his soapy fingers in my ass-crack, pressing one digit into my tight pucker.

"Oh fuck!" I grunted as a second finger pressed for entrance into my sensitive hole. My hips bucked away from the intrusion, making my cock twitch, and slide against John's stomach.

"Sorry, man...but if you liked the way it felt when I ate your ass the last time, then it's got to be clean for me to do it again." John said gruffly before licking my neck and planting a firm, insistent kiss to my lips.

Once again, my immediate reaction to kissing another man was less than positive, but my apprehension soon faded as the gesture imparted a sense of rugged lust and trust...not loving intimacy. I returned John's strangely masculine kiss more easily this time, having more confidence that he knew what I wanted and how I felt about it.

"I love how straight guys kiss...never really sure of themselves." John said, with an evil grin. "On your knees, Glen...now."

I was both put-off and aroused by the demanding tone, and found myself sinking toward the tile floor as John pushed down on my shoulders. His hard cock dragged over my body as I knelt down, and smacked hard against the bottom of my chin. In spite of having done this once before, the sight in front of me seemed strange and unreal. Having been in countless locker rooms and gym showers, the sight of naked men was of little interest to me at all. The only other hard cocks I'd ever seen were in porn movies. Yet here I was...willingly kneeling on a shower floor, staring at a hard prick as a ribbon of clear pre-cum trailed down to my chest. This time I kept my eyes open while I stuck out my tongue and licked my way down the throbbing shaft. Moving back toward the tip, I pressed my lips against the spongy head and collected the slick fluid on my tongue.

"Ummm...yeah...that's it, bud...suck it for me...suck my dick." John moaned, gently pressing a hand to the back of my head.

The taste of warm water and soap filled my mouth as I inched slowly down the white-hot pillar of flesh. I learned enough from the first encounter to know that I had to keep the spit flowing to make progress easier. I took my time, and John was patient, as I adjusted to the thick intruder without gagging. The first time, I could barely manage half the length. I amazed myself that after several persistent attempts, I felt John's neatly trimmed hairs brush against my nose. My mouth and throat felt impossibly full, and my lips couldn't stretch any further. The moans of pleasure I could hear through the splashing water told me that I was making another human being feel incredible...and that we trusted each other in the deepest way possible. It still wasn't love or romance...but it was a bond between men that I had never felt before. Despite an odd of sense of pride in making John feel good, I also had a feeling of shame and degradation. It was just a nagging thought that I shouldn't be here, doing this kind of shit.

"Oh damn, man...you are one fucking quick learner!" John said, holding my head firmly and fucking my face so deeply that his balls slapped against my chin. He wasn't being brutal about it, but was insistent. I coughed and gagged around his cock a few times until I learned to relax my throat. Spit coated my chin and clung to his hairless sack. "Oh fuck...yeah...lick my nuts...come on, Glen...lick that hanging fruit." John hissed, pulling his cock out of my mouth, and pushing my head further down.