Swimming Pool Eyes

"No. Please. It was very good of you to come."

"I want to bring you some Chinese," I told him. "On me."

"Later, maybe," he said. "I'm not hungry right now."

I looked around and his apartment was really a mess. Of course, he hadn't been able to clean it. I decided to clean it.

"I'm cleaning your apartment," I told him.

He protested, and I insisted, and I finally made him tell me where the pail and the bleach and the brushes and the dustcloths and the mops were.

"You just lie back and rest," I told him.

He lay back and closed his eyes, while I went about the task of making his small apartment spick and span. Two hours later I went out and brought back some Chinese for the two of us. I sat on his bed, and we both ate. While we were eating there was a knock on his door.

"Olga?" he asked.

"Yes," said a young woman's voice. "Are you ready for dinner?'

"Open the door," he told me. I opened it and saw a pretty young woman standing there. She had obviously just gotten home from the office and hadn't had time to change.

"OIga," he told her. "This is Chester. He's the man who did this to me."

Her face darkened and her mouth gaped.

"He came to apologize. He's very sorry. And he brought me up a Chinese dinner. We were just eating."

"Are you going to be all right?" She asked him.

"I hope so," he told her.

"I won't hurt him," I swore. "I'm only here to help."

Finally and reluctantly she went back to her own apartment, and Nicholas and I finished our Chinese. I took out the garbage and tossed it down the disposal, and came back to the apartment. There was a television at the foot of his bed.

"Let's watch television," I suggested.

He didn't answer. He just switched on the set. It was a ballet on Public Broadcasting, but that was all right. If that's what he wanted to watch. I sat back against the headboard on the other side of the bed, and we lay there side by side watching Giselle or something like that.

After the ballet, I knew it was time to leave and get back to the halfway house, and besides I could see he was tired, so I left.

But I started coming back every day and cleaning for him, and shopping for him, and I brought up Chinese dinners. And we watched television every night until it was time for me to go back to the halfway house.

I told Professor Stoner what I had done at the next session.

"Very interesting," he said. "And why do you suppose you are doing all this?"

"I hurt the guy. It's up to me to help him get back on his feet, isn't it?"

"Of course," he said, and I got another syringe and another swim in his eyepools.

And then I started to get these strange lonely feelings. I would be lying on my cot at night, and I would be missing Nicholas. What was that all about? He really was kind of cute and sweet. I almost felt as if I wanted to cuddle and kiss him. A guy! So ridiculous! I mean, I'm not a fag. I like to kiss the ladies. But he seemed so vulnerable, and now he was depending on me a lot, and I kind of liked that feeling. To be needed.

One night after the eleven o'clock news, I said, "I wish I didn't have to go back to the halfway house. It's so lonely there. I wish I could stay here with you."

He looked at me as if I were crazy, and I think he still didn't trust me.

"Could I stay here with you?" I asked him. "I won't touch you. I promise you."

"Okay," he said, a little uncertainly. "But my neighbor, Olga, knows who you are. If anything happens to me........."

"Nothing's gonna happen to you. I won't lay a hand on you. I swear. I won't touch you."

I stripped off my clothes, and I was just in my underwear, because now I was wearing underwear. I was not out trolling for a fag. I climbed into my side of the bed.

"Night," he said.

"Night," I answered.

He turned off the bedside lamp and we both went to sleep. And it felt so comfortable being there with somebody. I could feel his warm body near me under the blankets, and it was a nice feeling. I never thought I could sleep all night with anybody, but it wasn't so bad.

I told Professor Stoner that I had stayed over at Nicholas' apartment.

"And how did you feel about that?" he asked me.

"How did I feel? I don't know. It was okay."

"You didn't want to beat him up during the night?"

And then I realized. "No. No. I didn't. I like Nicholas. He's a nice guy. We watch television together. I don't want to beat him up. Maybe I'm changing."

"Maybe," he said. "Roll up your sleeve."

The next time I went over to Nicholas' apartment, I brought some hamburger meat and some salad in a bag and some dressing. He stayed in bed and told me how to cook it in the little kitchen off his one room apartment. I had never cooked before. It came out pretty good. I served him in bed, and I brought my plate to the bed and sat upright against the backboard next to him eating.

"What would you like to watch?" he asked me.

"You want me to pick the program?"

"Well you've been watching all my programs. We could watch something you'd like to watch once in a while."

He was such a decent lovely guy. This is the kind of guy that I had been battering. I was so ashamed. We were sort of becoming like buddies or something. It didn't even matter to me that he was a fag anymore. I really liked him.

After dinner I washed the dishes and we watched a detective show. I really liked that better than the ballet, and Nicholas seemed to be enjoying it also. Around eleven o'clock in the evening, when it would have been time for me to go home, I asked him "Can I stay over again tonight?"

I saw a funny flicker in his eyes. He winced a little. He still didn't trust me. What could I do to make him trust me? I was a different person now. Maybe it was me, or maybe it was Professor Stoner, but I wasn't the same guy who beat him up. "Can I?" I asked again.

"I guess so," he said.

I got undressed and got under the covers next to him, same as before, and he turned out the light. After a while, I knew that he was sleeping, so I kind of sat up a little and looked at his face in the light that was coming through the window. I kind of wanted to touch his face, but I was afraid that I would wake him, so I lay back down and tried to fall asleep. It was hard. I was so conscious of him next to me. I wanted to pull him close, and feel his warm body against mine, and maybe smell his hair. And I was feeling a little lustful also. The way I used to feel when I was going out to fagbash. I reached down and touched my erection. Wow! I really needed to fall asleep.

I knew that I should be telling Professor Stoner about my emotions, but I was too embarrassed and ashamed. I didn't want him to think I was a fag or anything.

The next time I stayed over, Nicholas had fallen asleep facing away from me, and I was facing his back. I think I was half dozing, and that I unconsciously put my hand around his chest under the blanket. Suddenly he jumped and sat up.

"What are you doing?" he asked me.

"Nothing," I told him.

"You touched me."

"Sorry. It was in my sleep."

"Please don't touch me," he told me.

"Okay," I said, but I wanted to touch him. I wanted to touch him so badly. "Please. I won't hurt you. I swear it. I like you." And then I started to cry like some stupid baby.

"I'm sorry," he told me. "I shouldn't have said that. I really know you won't hurt me again. It's okay." And then he put his arms around me and gave me the biggest hug, and all the time I'm crying like some stupid baby.

And then we kind of looked into each other's eyes, and before I knew it, he had leaned forward and put his lips over mine, and we were kissing. And I knew then that it was just what I wanted. I eased my tongue into his mouth and stroked it around, and down below I was hard as anything. I wanted him so badly. I wanted to hold him and cuddle him and love him.

As we were kissing, he reached down and touched me. "You're hard," he said.

"Yeah," I said. And then I did the strangest thing which I had never done before. I reached down. "So are you," I said.

"Yes," he answered, and we started to kiss again, and our two bodies were laced together, and his chest was against mine, and his prick was against mine, and I had never felt so excited. Our arms were locked around each other's bodies like we never wanted to let go of each other, but finally he pulled his mouth away from mine and asked me "Do you want me to kiss it for you?"

"You don't have to," I told him.

"I want to," he answered. "But I'm still sore. I have to move down on the bed very slowly. Maybe you could help me."

I helped him into position and he began to suck on my cock, and it felt so nice. Really nice. He was being so tender. And I didn't have any desire to ball up my fist. I was enjoying what he was doing. He was sucking me and sucking me. It was great. I knew that I was gonna come in his mouth, but I had done that before, so I just let it blast, and made a satisfied "Aaaahhhh," as it shot out.

Then I helped him back up onto the pillow, and we pulled the covers back up, and now I was lying right up against his back, and when I put my arm around his chest he didn't say anything this time. And we were both trying to fall asleep, but there was a sexual tension there that was keeping us both awake.

My cock was getting stiff again. So soon. And it was pressed against his butt. I mean, he had pajamas on, but my cock was pushing into the crack anyway.

"Do you want to put it inside me?" he asked me.

"I never did that before, but yeah, I guess so. Would you like that?"

"Yes. I want you inside me. Please."

I got a lot of spit on my hand and rubbed it around my dick and slowly pressed forward, after pulling off his pajama pants. The walls of his ass were squeezing around my dick, and it was so hot and so tight. I had fucked a lot of pussy, but this was a different feeling. This was so intimate.

"Is it okay?" I asked him.

"Yes. It feels wonderful," he told me, and wriggled his ass back upon my dick. We were side by side, but eventually I eased him over and I was lying on his back and I really started to fuck. What a feeling. And he was making all kinds of pleasure noises. It was so great. I started to kiss his neck and lick his ear. And then I knew I had to say it. I couldn't hold it in any longer. "I love you," I told him.

"I love you," he said, and we were both crying. Fucking and crying. Crazy guys.

"You're so handsome," he whispered. He had told me that once before.

"I know," I told him. "So are you."

"I am?"

"Yes," I said, and he really was. He was beautiful. Just a delicate little package in my hands that I could hold and cuddle, that I could kiss and make love to.

"I'm gonna come," I said.

"Come inside me," he said, so I brought myself to completion lying on his back. We lay there for a few minutes, in a post-fuck cloud of satisfaction. His ass muscles were still gripping onto my dick. I started to withdraw.

"Don't take it out," he told me.

"Okay," I said. And then he started to move us around so that we were both on our sides again, and his hand went down, and I knew that he was jacking off with his good hand, while squeezing onto my dick with his asswalls. It was hard for him with one arm still in a cast.

"Let me do that for you," I offered.

"Really?"

"Yes. I want to," I told him. And I reached around his waist and took his prick in my hand and I was still a little stiff inside him, so I fucked him as I jacked him, until he groaned and I felt his hot sticky milk shoot out onto my hand.

I didn't get up and go into the bathroom to wash. I lay there with my cock nestled in the warmth of his body, and we fell asleep. And that's the way we spent the whole night.

Little by little Nick got better and was able to go back to work. I had pretty well run out of cash by then, and naturally I had lost my old job because of you know. But luckily Nick was able to get me a job at the advertising agency where he wrote ad copy, even though I would only be working in the mailroom. I was grateful. It would have been hard for me to get a job without his help. After all, I now had a record.

We decided to pool our resources and take a larger apartment together. Professor Stoner said it would be all right. And yes, I do know that I'm a fag, but so what? I love Nicholas, and I am happy, and we are together.

Professor Stoner says I must take the treatment every week for the rest of my life, that there could still be a hidden danger lurking inside me. And I certainly wouldn't want to hurt my baby. So I go every week and look into those swimming pool eyes, and know that everything will be okay. Professor Stoner told me that as I am younger than he is and will probably outlive him, or if he is sick or anything, I am to go to the Mesmermentis Institute. Yeah. That's what it is called. My case is on record there, and they will know how to treat me in the event that he is unable to.

Tonight I cooked hamburgers again, in our new kitchen, and Nick and I sat across from each other at the little table, with the candle glowing between us, and in the semi-darkness, I stared into his eyes, and it was almost as if they were swirling. Just like Professor Stoner's. I just sat there eating my hamburger, and gazing crazily into Nick's swimming pool eyes.