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Best Buddies Play Hard Redux (with a new ending)

Re: Best Buddies Play Hard Redux (with a new endin

Between tears I type my friend (and again I'm not the crying type). It would be so predictable (redundant?) to say that it was another great chapter,but I don't know how to describe it otherwise. This story touches me on a personal level and it's your artistic brilliance and discipline that makes it possible. You not only have a gift you are a gift Neil. I have the highest respect for your talent.

I can only imagine the emotions you have to tap into to write a story like this, but please know that your efforts are greatly appreciated. If you ever write professionally I'll head the fan club!!!!!(ww)
 
Re: Best Buddies Play Hard Redux (with a new endin

Neil, Thank you./
This is beautiful, you bring out the emotions so well.
Please continue! I don't care if the next chapter is the last, or next to last, or whatever! This is a true love story
Hugs
Harry
 
Re: Best Buddies Play Hard Redux (with a new endin

For what it's worth, I didn't plan this:

"I'm scared, Marty," he began slowly. "I'm so scared of tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" I said stupidly. "What's happening tomorrow?"

"I don't mean ‘tomorrow' tomorrow, Marty. I mean the future. My future. It scares me. I've been alone since Mom died and I hate it. It scares me. And now I'm so afraid that I might do something to make you hate me and I'll have to go away again and spend the rest of my life alone." Kevin sucked in one of those deep, anxious, stuttery breaths that makes your whole body jerk with each sputter and let it back out again in the same way. "And that scares me more than dying," he concluded.

And, with those words, the final piece fell into place.

It just happened. I, myself, didn't really know why Kevin left. I started with the 'paths' thing, thinking it would be good enough, but it wasn't. So, I sent Marty hunting for the other reason. The idea that Marty might hate him sent him running was the reason I had planned, and that was going to be it. But then that little speech by Kevin played out in my brain and I started writing it. The 'bold' lines came out all by themselves and, when they did, I had one of those 'eureka' moments and I knew why Kevin really.

I love it when a plan comes together. . . even if I didn't plan it. ;)
 
Re: Best Buddies Play Hard Redux (with a new endin

For what it's worth, I didn't plan this:



It just happened. I, myself, didn't really know why Kevin left. I started with the 'paths' thing, thinking it would be good enough, but it wasn't. So, I sent Marty hunting for the other reason. The idea that Marty might hate him sent him running was the reason I had planned, and that was going to be it. But then that little speech by Kevin played out in my brain and I started writing it. The 'bold' lines came out all by themselves and, when they did, I had one of those 'eureka' moments and I knew why Kevin really.

I love it when a plan comes together. . . even if I didn't plan it. ;)

Wow that's amazing! I used to write years ago so I know what you mean when you say sometimes a plan comes together even when it's not planned. Characters really do take on a life of their own. I must say that I love the fact that Marty became a tad more aggressive...very fitting! I know this will not be a Watching Brad (which I just began reading), but I do hope it continues a bit longer. Thanx for sharing your gift Neil.

Always in awe;)
 
Re: Best Buddies Play Hard Redux (with a new endin

another one of your stories to keep looking at every day praying for a update:help:


but its worth it i love them(*8*)
 
Re: Best Buddies Play Hard Redux (with a new endin

Neil,
I just read through the alternate ending from ch5 on, sonce I' only just finished the original in the past few weeks. You know how much that ending tore at me.

This ending is much better, assuming we ever get the final final chapter of shared expressions of their unconditional love for each other. At least I got current beforehand, so I can post public comments in real time frame!
 
Re: Best Buddies Play Hard Redux (with a new endin

BEST BUDDIES PLAY HARD
PART 9​

In another place, in another time, I might have thought that Kevin's complete lack of participation might have been a silent critique to my kissing abilities - or lack thereof. Under different circumstances, I might have been offended by it. To be perfectly frank, I'd had more passionate kisses from my own father. But I knew that Kevin was merely making a desperate, last-ditch effort to keep his promise to himself just as I was doing my best to keep my own promise. It all came down to a battle of wills and the person who held out longer, the one who didn't give up and give in, would be the winner. If Kevin won, we would both lose. If I won, we would both win.

I was determined to win. Kevin had left me alone a long time ago and he had returned for only a very short time before leaving me alone again. I had no intention of allowing him to walk out of my life for a third time. . . at least not without a fight.

My heart was still pounding in my chest. I could feel it, and I'm certain Kevin could feel it, too, since I was still holding his hand there. His palm pressed against me, separated from my left pectoral only by the almost insignificant thickness of my cotton T-shirt. I could feel the nipple rubbing ever-so-slightly against his palm with every breath I took. I liked it and clutched his hand even tighter to me. I may have, in the excitement of the moment, twitched his hand so that it rubbed over the growing nub beneath it, but I will never admit to doing it intentionally. Still, it made me suck even more air into my lungs as if to push my chest even harder against his hand.

Throughout, my lips and tongue worked frantically at Kevin's lips, trying to erode his reservations and to wear down his resistances, but his lips remained tightly closed and impenetrable. He made no move to pull away from me, but he made no move to join in the fun, either. I decided to up the ante.

I released the hand which I was holding against my chest and let it fall where it would. It ended up on my left thigh and remained there. His touch was warm and comforting, even through the denim of my jeans. I rather wished I had worn shorts instead of jeans so I could feel his hand on the bare skin of my leg.

I turned my upper torso slightly toward him and brought my left hand up and behind him until I held the back of his head in my palm. His hair felt cool, soft, and silky against my skin. My other hand moved, as if on its own accord, and came to rest on Kevin's thigh. It tensed and tightened beneath my touch and I was surprised at the heat and strength and power I could feel. It felt so strange. I wasn't accustomed to feeling such masculinity. Sure, I'd touched Kevin and a lot of other guys millions of times before, but not like this. Not sexually. It sent warm, fuzzy feelings through me that tickled me from the inside out and I found it oddly exciting and curiously stimulating.

My fingers splayed themselves over the solid, cotton-encased muscle beneath my palm and I squeezed gently. I felt Kevin's whimper more than heard it and he tried to pull his leg away from my grasp, but I gripped it even more firmly, making sure he understood that I didn't want his leg to go anywhere. My hand behind his head did the same thing when he tried to pull his lips away from mine. Kevin strained against me, giving me a half-hearted display of his own determination, before resigning himself to the fact that I wasn't about to let him escape my grasp. Still, it took several more infinitely-long seconds before Kevin relented and, with a heavy and breathy sigh escaping his nostrils and blowing over my cheek, resigned himself to the moment.

I relaxed my grip on Kevin's thigh and, as I did some of my best work in trying to get him involved in the kiss, my thumb began a simple, gentle, and slow circular massage of his leg. Bit by bit, stroke by stroke, I could feel Kevin's resistance wavering and, ultimately, beginning to falter. I renewed my oral efforts, forcing my tongue against Kevin's lips and trying to push my way inside. I found myself anxious to taste the inside of his mouth. Kevin fought the good fight, but he was ill-prepared to battle my relentless determination.

It happened almost before I knew it and, ironically, I was the inadvertent cause. One moment we were fighting each other on all fronts. The next moment, Kevin surrendered himself to me completely. And it was all a result of an innocent, unintentional touch on my part. All I was doing was moving my right hand from Kevin's thigh to his waist but, in the short journey there, my baby finger encountered a rather sizable bulge in his jeans and swiftly skipped across its expanse. I had the brief sensation of feeling something solid beneath the material and, despite the fact that it was barely a passing glance, I could feel the flesh contained inside jump against the slight pressure of my finger. It was the most exhilarating accident I had ever encountered.

It also had the effect of causing Kevin to exhale another huge sigh through his nostrils and over my face. Suddenly, he opened his mouth and moaned into my own mouth. My tongue suddenly pushed past Kevin's lips and over his teeth and into his mouth where it encountered Kevin's own advancing tongue. They collided and began an anxious but playful jousting match with each other. A long, resonant moan of resolution rumbled from deep within Kevin's throat, richochetting off the roof of his mouth and into my own. His arms wrapped themselves around me and his fingers dug into my skin. All walls were down. No holds barred. Kevin's body was mine to do with what I would.

I freely admit that my experience with kissing a man romantically up to that moment was seriously deficient. Virtually non-existent, you might say. In fact, Kevin is the only male with whom I have ever shared a romantic kiss. I was surprised to discover how entirely different it was than when I was kissing my wife. Sure, it was basically the same as kissing Sharon, at least in technique, but it was on a scale many dozens of times greater. It was an assault on my senses and everything was undeniably masculine.

There were new sensations on my skin where my face touched his, especially when my stubble scraped against his own. Not only was the face I pressed against more rugged and manly, but it also created a sandpapery feel and a sound as our shaved whiskers tangled with each other. There was a solidity in Kevin's body, a hardness which led me to believe that he would be able to handle any amount of punishment I could deal out to him. Not that I would, mind you, but I got the feeling that I wouldn't have to hold myself back. There would be no need for me to be particularly gentle. I felt as though I could finally uncage my animalistic passions and let them run free for a change without worrying that I might hurt him. Sharon seemed fragile and I felt she required the same gentle care as my son. Kevin did not. Not only did I feel that he could handle the rough stuff, I felt that he would welcome it. More importantly, though, I felt that I would welcome it as well.

There were new smells and tastes that I have rarely paid much attention to before. The enticing scent of a musky aftershave instead of sweet-smelling perfume. Manly-smelling hair and skin instead of skin and hair scented by floral shampoos and soaps. Lingering hints of rugged, masculine deodourant blending with the heady, musky, intoxicating smell of sweat instead of the dainty, light-smelling deodourants my wife always used. There was what I can only describe as a locker room smell about Kevin. A ‘man' smell. It wasn't a new smell to me, but it was the first time that it triggered something in a part of my brain that hadn't been triggered before. The smell, much to my surprise and delight, caused my jeans to become suddenly much tighter in the crotch. And, from his lips to his teeth and his tongue and the inside of his mouth, Kevin tasted different, too. I hate to keep repeating myself, but he even tasted like I figured a man should taste. His abundant saliva had a delightful, smoky flavour mixed with minty toothpaste and what tasted like beer. Combined with my own saliva, it was enormously satisfying. My greedy tongue swept the interior of his mouth for as much of his spit as I could get and I savoured it as I would savour a fine, freshly-drawn brew, and it was equally refreshing.

I must also mention the sounds. Deep, manly sounds. And the strength. Not of the sounds, but of the body. Kevin's body. I think that impressed me most of all. There was a power and hardness to match my own. There was something about having my arms around a body that I knew could pick me up and carry me. Hell, even the strength of his breathing and the roughness and power of his lips and tongue excited me. Much more powerful than what I was used to. I could feel my lungs inflating with every breath which Kevin exhaled into me, especially since our lips were now almost hermetically sealed.

I had been prepared for something of a repeat of our last encounter together except that I thought that I might be a more willing and eager participant. I wasn't prepared for the magnetic attraction I felt to Kevin at that moment. Something had changed and I welcomed these new sensations. I had arrived at the pond that evening knowing that, if all went as planned, Kevin and I would have sex. Now, I knew that we would be making love instead.

I had a lot of time to think about all these things while I was trying to get Kevin to kiss me, and now that we were kissing, I put all these things together in my mind and came to the conclusion that I now wanted to do this more for myself than for Kevin. Making love with Kevin now seemed to be the right thing to do, the most mind-blowing thing I could do. I think, for the first time, I began to understand why Kevin was gay. Making love with another man was certainly beginning to have its appeal, and making love with my best friend now had even more appeal to me than it had ever had before.

I pulled Kevin's lips even tighter to mine and my fingers dug into his waist as I rocked myself first onto my left hip and then onto my knees beside him, guiding him backwards and down until he was lying flat on his back beneath me. My right leg lifted and moved, settling between Kevin's legs and forcing them apart. A moment later, my knee came to rest on the blanket, nudging lightly against Kevin's bulging, denim-clad crotch. Kevin's thighs clamped themselves around my knee, holding it firmly in place there.

Once the barriers had fallen and Kevin became engrossed in the kiss, it was like everything we had been feeling for each other came out all at once. I didn't even have to breath. Kevin blew air into my lungs and sucked it back out again and I swear to this day that his extra-strength suctioning actually loosened a filling or two.

I wasn't really aware of the effect Kevin was having on me until I suddenly realised that my cock was about to either rip its way through my underwear and jeans or break in half in its attempt to do that. I quickly reached for the waistband of my jeans, shoved my hand inside, and shifted my cock so it pointed at my hip. With the danger of the need of a cock splint eliminated, I pulled my hand back out of my pants. It bumped into Kevin's hand as it was heading for the waistband of his own jeans. Apparently he was in danger of needing a cock splint as well.

As Kevin busied himself beneath his zipper, I planted my hand palm-down on his chest where it pawed at the burly pectoral mounds there and I turned my attention to counting Kevin's teeth with the tip of my tongue one more time.

A lot of things happened very quickly after that and I'm not exactly certain what they were, nor when nor how. I remember Kevin's hands moving. One arm wrapped itself around my back and pulled me right on top of him and his other hand grabbed the back of my head and mashed my face against his. After that, it's a bit of a blur until I found myself pushing myself to my knees between Kevin's legs (somehow, my other leg had found its way between them) and planting my hands at Kevin's waist. My fingers slipped beneath his T-shirt and my thumbs hooked the hem. Then, with a shove of both hands, I shoved the T-shirt up to Kevin's shoulders and his bare chest suddenly lay bare before me. I remember that part because I can remember looking down at him and saying, "Holy, shit, Kevin! You're sexy as fuck!"

And he was. As I looked down at him, with the light from the campfire dancing on his bare skin, I could feel my cock jumping in my jeans and a healthy dose of lube gushing out of the tip and soaking into my underwear. I know I grabbed it and rubbed it through my jeans, but I was too busy staring at Kevin's chest to notice if he was watching me do it.

I can't explain the transformation in my mind nor the reactions of my body that night. I had come to the pond fully intending to do what was necessary to convince Kevin to stay home where he belonged. If that meant learning to enjoy sucking his cock, or at least pretending to enjoy it, I would do it. But, as I looked down at him and watched his chest heaving in pure sexual excitement, and with all the sights and sounds and smells of his body assaulting my senses, I realised that there had been only one other person who could turn me on as much as I was turned on at that moment, and that was my wife. She was my best friend, and so was Kevin. They were like the same person somehow and, between the two of them, they could make love to me in every way I wanted to be made love to. What one couldn't do, the other could. Between the two of them, every single sexual fantasy my mind had ever imagined could be fulfilled.

It was time to begin fulfilling them.

I abandoned my crotch and grabbed hold of Kevin's rib cage as I bent at the waist until my mouth was sucking and licking and biting at the pectoral muscle I had been pawing at only moments before.

"Oh, God, Marty," Kevin groaned into the darkness. His hands clamped onto my head and pulled me closer, but he didn't really hold me there. As my mouth moved over his skin, his hands moved with me. It was more like he was telling me he liked where my face was and what it was doing to him rather than making sure I didn't try to pull it away from him. I moved from one muscular mound to the other, from the perky, stiffened nub of one nipple to the other. Back and forth, pausing between them to lick at the hairs I found there. I settle myself on top of him, sprawling myself out between his legs. I could feel the full length of his cock throbbing against my belly. Kevin lifted his knees in the air, bending his legs and planting his fee flat on the blanket, and then his legs began to open and close, scissoring his thighs against my side and causing his crotch to move up and down and making his steel-hard cock to rub against my stomach. "Oh, God, Marty," he repeated as he mashed my nose into his twitching pec.

Kevin's body tasted wonderful and I wanted to taste more of it. My mouth moved to the other nipple then beyond where I nipped at his ribs with my lips and lapped at them with my tongue. Not far away from my head, I caught a faint whiff of Kevin's armpit as his moved his arms about. Again I could smell his sweat and the residual hints of his roll-on deodourant. It wasn't strong or overpowering. It was just there and my mouth seemed to be drawn to it automatically. Kevin released his arm and lifted it behind his head as my forehead nudged its way into his pit. I, however, encountered his T-shirt rolled into a bundle there and I didn't want it to be. I swiftly moved my hand there to push it out of the way.

Kevin let out a huge groan of pleasure and his body heaved up off the ground, lifting me with it, when my eager mouth began its attack on his hot, moist armpit. The scent was very much like my own, but my smell didn't turn me on the way Kevin's did. I burrowed my face into his pit and tasted him, surprised at the sensuality of his salty-tasting sweat. I licked until there wasn't a single drop of perspiration left on a single hair there. I licked until there was nothing left to taste except skin. I moved to the other side of him and lapped up as much of Kevin's taste as I could.

Kevin was hunching and thrashing beneath me, humping his crotch against my stomach and reminding me of why I had come to the pond in the first place. I slid down Kevin's body, dragging my own body over his bulging crotch and slathering my tongue and lips all the way down his chest and abdomen, pausing only momentarily to drill into his belly button, before continuing on down until my face passed over the waistband of his jeans and planted itself in his steamy crotch and my hands clamped themselves onto Kevin's hips.

There were all sorts of new smells there - hints of smells that I was quite familiar with. I made those smells, too. They weren't overpowering smells. They were faint. Sort of like the smells I look for when I sniff my underwear or T-shirts to see if they're still fresh enough to wear for another day. But my smells didn't make my cock jump in my pants and squeeze out a tiny stream of precum that soaked into my underwear the way Kevin's did. The aroma was intoxicating and sent my mind spinning.

And there was another scent which was somehow familiar but elusive at the same time and it took several moments of avid munching on the long tube of flesh wrapped in cotton denim and sniffing all around it before I recognised it as the remnants of the three orgasms which Kevin had enjoyed a short time earlier somewhere in the trees as he had watched me sitting near the bonfire. I suddenly sank into my brain that I was the object of Kevin's fantasies and I found it quite flattering to know that just thinking about my body had made him blow his nuts three times. And it made me wonder how many times he had whacked off over the past few years thinking about me, but I didn't wonder about it for very long. I had other more urgent things on my mind. Or, to be more precise, in my face, and I couldn't wait to get at them.

I rocked back on my knees and sat on my heels. My fingers moved to the button of his jeans and fumbled with it, trying to undo it. My hands were shanking badly and I failed dismally in my little task. I tried to cover it up with a laugh and a lame joke. "Holy shit," I exclaimed. "I feel like a schoolboy on my first date. I can't stop shaking!"

Kevin didn't laugh. Instead, he sucked in a huge, nervous breath and his chest and stomach ballooned. That made an already difficult job impossible as the button began to strain against the buttonhole. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Kev," I said. "Suck in your friggin' gut, will ya!? Your pants are tight enough as it is!"

Kevin obediently exhaled and sucked in his belly for me, allowing me to slip my fingers beneath his waistband and to pop the button through the buttonhole. I had less trouble pulling down his zipper, but I have to admit that it was a hell of a lot more fun, especially when it climbed over the totem pole locked inside.

My prize was finally within reach. My fingers moved to the waistband at his hips again, slipping beneath it and tugging downwards. "Lift your butt," I prompted, and he did. His jeans slid down and over his butt and down his thighs as far as space would allow. The only thing left between me and Kevin was his underwear. It was stretched tight over the long, bouncing tube of his cock as it aimed upwards and toward his left hip. There was a big wet spot at the tip of the head where his own precum had leaked out. Impulse took over before I could think about it and I grabbed his hips once more and bent over him and clamped my lips over his cockhead, sucking at it and tasting the juices captured there. It tasted a lot like mine, but it was different enough to make it taste even better somehow. I liked it. A lot.

I rocked back on my heels again and tugged on the elastic waistband of Kevin's briefs. Again, he obediently lifted his butt so I could slid them down to join his jeans. I was very careful to lift it over his rampaging cock. Having one of my own, I knew how much it hurt to catch it up in my underwear. When I finally had it unveiled, I sat there on my heels for a long moment just looking at it and it's two orb-shaped counterparts below it before my hand reached out for it and my still-trembling fingers wrapped around it. I'd touched it before but it was different this time. It was like I was touching it for the first time and I took a few moments to enjoy the shape and the heat and the feel of it against my skin. I think my fingers might have slid over the meat a little bit, but it wasn't to jerk him off or anything. It was just to relish in the feel of it.

It was a magnificent tower of flesh and so much of it extended beyond my hand. Even as I looked at it in the near darkness, I could see the head swelling and becoming glassy-smooth and I could feel the shaft grow wider within my grip. I judged its size using my fingers and thumb and there was a moment of envy when I realised that Kevin's cock was thicker than mine, but I guessed mine to be longer. If anything, his cock had grown since the last time we were together. The size didn't scare me, though. On the contrary. I was even more eager to suck it. I squeezed it and a huge droplet of precum appeared at the slit, gathering into a bubble and beginning to flow down the helmet-shaped head toward the protruding rim where the head met the shaft. I sat there and watched it go.

I must have sat there staring at it longer than I had thought and Kevin must have misinterpreted my immobility as hesitation and fear. "It's okay, Marty," he said in quiet understanding. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

I snapped back to the present and looked him. Even in the flickering light of the fire I could see the resignation in his eyes. He may have been thinking that I'd changed my mind, but he was so wrong. There wasn't anything in the world I wanted to do more than to give the best blowjob I could to my best friend.

I lifted his cock straight up and away from his belly until it was pointing at the stars. My ass off my heels and I bent over him, opened my mouth, and slid the whole cockhead between my lips. The sound that came out of Kevin's throat almost made me laugh and his body did sort of a dance at the waist as his hips tried to push his cock deeper into my mouth as fast as his brain fought to pull it back out so he didn't choke me to death. Fortunately, there was little danger of that. The angle of my body meant that his cockhead bumped the roof of my mouth instead of trying to poke its way into my throat.

The taste was amazing. There was the warm, fresh taste of his precum, a soupçon of soggy cotton and crotch sweat, a dash of leftover pee, and a generous pinch of lingering semen from his self-induced orgasms, all mixed with the incredible flavour of his skin. It was a banquet for the senses. I held my head still until Kevin regained control over his body and it settled on the blanket and did its best to remain still. I felt fingertips touching my cheek. They didn't do anything except touch me lightly, but his thumb rubbed against me the way I had rubbed his thigh with mine. I barely heard his whisper. "Oh, Marty," he said, and the way he said it made me feel really good.

When I felt it was safe and I was ready to continue, I started moving my head up and down on his cock, trying to duplicate everything I enjoyed having done to me when I was receiving a blowjob. The only difference was that I kept my hand wrapped around the base of his cock to stop my mouth from going too far down. I wasn't quite ready to feel his pubes against my lips just yet. My lips and tongue did everything to Kevin that I knew would make me feel good and I hoped they did the same for Kevin. I moved my other hand between his legs and cupped his balls in my fingers and palm. Another sigh blew past Kevin's lips and his hips did that little dance again, but he stopped himself much quicker this time. Being a guy who likes playing with his nuts, I had a pretty good idea how hard I could play with Kevin's. I jostled them and teased them and bounced them around in their sack. When his prick started dancing in my mouth, I knew I was doing it right.

I suppose, if Kevin hadn't already came three times that night, he probably wouldn't have lasted as long as he did. I held out as long as I could, but he was still moaning and groaning and heaving his chest and rolling his hips and rubbing my face when my jaws started complaining about the size of the lollipop I was forcing them around. In an effort to speed things up, I started jerking my hand up and down his shaft, matching the strokes of my lips. As much as I wanted the blowjob to last longer, I was afraid my cramping jaws might start hurting Kevin instead of making him feel good so, when I couldn't handle it anymore and Kevin didn't appear to be any closer to blowing his nuts, I reluctantly released his cock from my mouth and sat back on my heels again, slowly stroking it instead.

Once again, Kevin misinterpreted my actions. "Thanks anyway, Marty," he said. "I understand. At least you tried, and that means a lot to me."

"I'm not done yet, buddy," I told him as I temporarily let go of him and climbed out from between his legs. I stretched out on the blanket beside him. "If your cock wasn't so friggin' huge, I'd still be chowin' down on it, but that cannon of yours is giving me lockjaw." I slid my left hand under his leg and latched onto his nuts again as my right hand grabbed hold of his cock and renewed its stroking. Without much experience under my belt, I did the only thing I could think of doing and started jerking Kevin off the way I liked to jerk myself off. Kevin's reaction told me I was doing okay.

He started moaning his pleasure again and, as I looked up at his face, his eyes were closed for the most part and his head rocked back and forth from side to side. His mouth was open slightly and he was breathing hard and fast, and the harder and faster I stroked his meat, the harder and faster he breathed. I was fascinated by his chest rising and falling and I took great pleasure in knowing that I was the one making it happen. It wasn't long before I felt Kevin's right hand fall to my back and start to massage as much of me as he could reach.

From time to time, when it was necessary, I worked up a large glob of spit in my mouth, leaned over him, and spit on his cockhead, using my lips to spread the saliva over it and making it slick and slippery and easier to jerk him off. I kept it up for a time until I noticed that Kevin's body had begun to writhe beneath my manipulations. Sensing success at an impending orgasm, I began stroking his cock a bit faster and bent over him again so I could clamp my lips over his right nipple. That caused Kevin's entire body to heave upwards into a rainbow arch, pushing his crotch into my fist. A sound of pure ecstasy filled the night air around us. "Oh, God, Marty!" he whimpered.

His hips settled back onto the blanket as he grabbed a handful of my T-shirt and held on. I heard a whisper. "Faster," it said.

I obliged, picking up the tempo and continuing to roll and tease his nuts with my other hand. My mouth chewed at his nipple and muscular pec and Kevin's hand released my shirt and moved up to the back of my head. He grabbed my hair and pulled my face against his chest. He was holding me there this time but I didn't mind. I licked and chewed and sucked and mashed my mouth against his body, doing my best to give his right tit a blowjob. His chest rose and fell with every breath he took and my head rose and fell with it. And each breath he took became deeper and faster. His hips took up a counter rhythm to my stroking hand, rocking and humping upward as I was stroking downward. His legs closed on themselves, clamping my left hand firmly on his balls and making sure I couldn't stop playing with them until he was ready. I loved being told what to do through his actions.

Kevin's moans became progressively louder and more urgent. My head felt the amazing strength in his right arm as it pulled me even closer to him and his other hand joined its counterpart. There was the smell of pure sex in the air. There was the sound of his frantic breathing, guttural grunts and groans, and the sound of skin rubbing on skin as my hand moved rapidly up and down his shaft. It was all joined by the rhythmic, snapping sound of liquid bubbles forming and popping in the slit of his cockhead with every stroke of my hand. I could feel it in his body. I knew it was time. His voice squeaked recklessly. "Faster, Marty!"

Kevin's grip on me was formidable. I tried to pull my head away from his chest and his increased and held me fast. He wasn't going to let me go. I guessed (correctly, as I later discovered) that Kevin was afraid I would go after his cock if he released me. He was right. When I realised he wasn't about to let me do what I fully intended to do, I found his husky, concrete nipple and clamped it between my teeth, biting down on it harder and harder until he had no choice but to relent and let go of my head. As soon as he did so, I tore myself away from his chest and slid downward and captured his now pulsating cockhead between my lips. Despite his reservations, Kevin's hips instinctively pushed up again, trying to push his cock deeper into the cavern of my mouth. I was ready for him and my hand, wrapped securely around his cock shaft, prevented it. Still, he managed to push his cockhead inside my mouth once more. My lips met my hand and there it stayed. My jaws strained and ached, but I ignored it and held on as his cock began to pulsate.

The first blast took me completely by surprise. Considering this was Kevin's fourth orgasm of the evening, I wasn't expecting much from it, but his semen torpedoed out of his cock and exploded against the back of my throat like a water balloon splattering against a concrete wall. Before I even had a chance to react and think about the possibility of either drowning or choking to death from it, a second blast of creamy, hot cum splashed against the roof of my mouth, and then a third. I didn't have time to worry about not liking it. With my mouth quickly filling up with his cum, I had to start getting rid of it, and that meant that I had to start swallowing. I did. Two more spurts followed. Five in total. After that, his cock continued to spasm and pump, but there were only two more small, intermittent squirts. As his orgasm drew to an end and Kevin began to settle into afterglow, there was a wee bit of residual dribbling which joined what still remained on my tongue.

With the deluge finished, I was able to relax and enjoy the final remnants of Kevin's orgasm. I could concentrate on the cock in my mouth and the thick, creamy liquid which bathed it. I could take the time to savour what remained of Kevin's cum and, although I wasn't particularly keen on the heady, pungent flavour, I wasn't repulsed by it. It was a flavour I knew I could easily become accustomed to. I used my tongue to slather it over Kevin's slowly-shrinking cock and then I wiped it clean and swallowed what I had gathered.

I stayed there a minute or two with my head resting on Kevin's stomach and his cock still nestled snugly in my mouth. I was rather astonished at how reluctant I was to let it go. I quite enjoyed the taste and the feel of it. And so, with the hope that this would not be the last time I gave my friend a blowjob, I allowed his wilted cock to slip from my lips and into the night air once again.

My hand gently released Kevin's balls and I tugged my arm from beneath his leg. Then, after one more kiss on his cockhead, I let my fingers fall away from it and I rolled onto my back beside him, staring up at the sky and trying to find the Sea of Tranquility on the moon overhead. The remains of the bonfire popped and crackled nearby.

I turned my head to the side. Kevin lay there with his T-shirt still shoved up to his neck and his jeans and underwear still shoved down to mid-thigh. His eyes were still closed and his right arm lay draped across his lower rib cage. His breathing was gradually slowing and, as I watched, his hand moved up to his chest and, with the lightness of a snowflake dancing on a feather, his fingertips slowly began circling around his left nipple.

I thought hard about what to say to him. I knew I couldn't say what I really wanted to say. At least not yet.

Kevin sucked in a deep breath through his nose and held it for a bit, then opened his lips and blew it back out. His hands reached down beyond his waist, grabbing the stretchy waistband of his underwear and, lifting his butt off the blanket, slid his briefs up. The balls I had held in my hand and the cock I had held in my mouth took refuge inside the white cotton. A moment later, he'd pulled up his jeans as well, but he left them undone for the moment. He sat up slowly and reached up to tug his T-shirt back down and over his chest. And then he looked at me.

I sat up as well, spinning around slightly so I could face him. I started to pull my knees to my chest but a tightness in my jeans brought to my attention the fact that I still had a painfully-hard erection and changed my mind. Instead, I made myself as comfortable as I could without making a big display of it. My voice was strangely quiet when I spoke, as if I were afraid the night might overhear me. "I've done what I came here to do, Kev," I said. "We've each kept our promises now. Both to ourselves and to each other. Whatever happens from now on is up to you. You can stay here where you belong or you can go away again. I won't try to stop you. It's your decision."

There was nothing more for me to do than to sit back and await his answer.

This Is Not The End. . . Yet
 
Re: Best Buddies Play Hard Redux (with a new endin

Oh Neil. Thank you. This is so much more satisfying than the original abrupt & tragic end.
Please let them be happy now
Harry
 
Re: Best Buddies Play Hard Redux (with a new endin

Neil, I just fiinished reading the complete story to date and thought it was terrific. I agree with Harry, please let them be happy now. H&K
Vic
 
Re: Best Buddies Play Hard Redux (with a new endin

Neil,
The Passion Portrayed in this, the PenUltimate Paragraphs Pertaining to our Present Pair of Protagonists approximates Perfection.

This is SOOOOO much more satisfying than your original ending. Let the love they feel toward each other out from under the basket it's been hiding under and illuminate the world.

Yes, Marty is happily married to a wonderful woman and has a family. His wife understands the special bond between these childhood friends and is OK with it -- no, MORE than OK with it. She encourages Marty to go to Kevin and embrace their love for each other. She knows it won't hurt her relationship with Marty, it will only deepen the love they feel for each other.

I PM'd you my deep concerns about the original ending, and you responded with your explanation.

I couldn't accept then and don't accept now the original premise that Kevin did what he did in the original ending for Marty -- to free him from something he wasn't. That was and is a coward's way out that doesn't protect the ones left behind, it devastates them. Eternally better to face the issues together, head on, and deal with them, as you have allowed so far in this alternate universe.

I agree with my fellow book club members, Let the final chapter bring Kevin back HOME, where he belongs, and let them have the Fairy Tale ending we all long for.

Thank you for reopening this powerful story and allowing it to have a different culmination.

(!) :gogirl: ..| :wave: (*8*) :kiss:
 
Re: Best Buddies Play Hard Redux (with a new endin

I couldn't accept then and don't accept now the original premise that Kevin did what he did in the original ending for Marty -- to free him from something he wasn't. That was and is a coward's way out that doesn't protect the ones left behind, it devastates them. Eternally better to face the issues together, head on, and deal with them, as you have allowed so far in this alternate universe.

I still stand by the original ending. It wasn't popular but, in Kevin's mind (and, more importantly, in my mind), it was the only way it could end. I covered this to some depth in this new version with Kevin telling about how he had been trying to protect Marty and everything but, ultimately, the resolution came to both of us - that he would rather be dead than to live his life without Marty in it.

In this version, Kevin had resigned himself to a life without sex. There wasn't anybody else he wanted to have sex with. Even if he couldn't love Marty the way he wanted to, he was content just to be with him.

Sure, suicide is the "coward's way out" and it devastates everyone left behind, but it happens, far more often than more fulfilling 'happy' endings. Too many young gay people feel there is no other option.

It happens.

And I thought that was a more important message to get out than to have Marty and Kevin go dancing happily through life in a fantasy.

Don't get me wrong. I like the way the redux version is advancing. It's allowed me to delve deeper into their minds and let them do a lot of their own soul-searching. It is through this soul-searching that Marty started paying attention to all the individual pieces around him and began to put them together - the sights, the sounds, the smells, the tastes, the feels. He knew all of these things, but he'd never put them together into the same context before. It wasn't until he saw the whole picture of Kevin as a sexual being who could delight Marty in ways he could only have imagined before that he realised, "Hey. This isn't as bad as I thought it might be. This could actually be fun!"

That's why it took so long to write this last chapter and why I couldn't finish up the story in it. I hadn't intended for Marty to make such a self-discovery. His original intention had been to simply go to the pond and do whatever he had to do to make Kevin want to stay. In the end, he did what he did for entirely different reasons.

Still, though, happy endings like this are the exceptions rather than the rules, and sometimes you have to follow the rules, whether or not people like it. And that's why I ended the first version the way I did.

Neil (*8*)
 
Re: Best Buddies Play Hard Redux (with a new endin

Neil,
You know I greatly enjoy your artistry in crafting your stories.
I agree that the unfortunate truth is that far too many (ONE is too many) people - gay, straight, young, old, and everywhere in between, decide to end their lives through suicide when they are confronted with what they see as an impossible future.

It is critically important that these feelings be explored, examined, dissected to the sub-DNA level in dramatic literature, so the people who might someday find themselves in such a position have the possibility of having seen a discussion about THEMSELVES somewhere along the line.

What is also critically important, is that characters who face this decision, whenever possible, be confronted, and made to understand that suicide is NOT a good solution. It is NOT a self-LESS, self-SACRIFICING solution that saves their loved ones pain. It is, instead, close to if not, the ultimate selfISHNESS on their parts. It is an EASY ESCAPE for THEM, that leaves their loved ones wracked with anguish and pain for the rest of their lives. They may be able to compartmentalize the pain, and function, but they are never free of the pain extracted by this act.

When the artist feels that suicide is dramatically required, it is ESSENTIAL that the act is not glorified, but exposed for what it is. The author must take every effort to make the act as distasteful and unpleasant as possible, so they run no risk of encouraging such abominable action. I understand that not every real life experience, or fiction as it mirrors real life, can have the fairy tale happy ending we all would like to see. That does not mean that suicide needs to be glamourized.

I've been through manic depression with obsessive-compulsive complications that ruined a friendship, and left me working through my own emotions for the better part of a decade. BUT, I NEVER contemplated suicide. I fought every step of the way to Let God and Let Go. It wasn't easy. I still regret the lost friendship and inability to reach out to this former friend and reconcile, but they won't even remotedly entertain the idea, even a dozen years later.

You are a great author, and you have a large following. You have been candid with your readers about your health situation while devoting countless hours to your craft for our benefit, and we all thank you. I do not want to detract from your writing at all. I do want you to help encourage people toward life, and away from suicide, even in the face of seemingly overwhelming odds.

Thank you for bringing us this instense, dramatic, love story. And thank you, too, for being willing to reconstruct the story so that it doens't have to end in tragedy. :wave:
 
Re: Best Buddies Play Hard Redux (with a new endin

:D:=D:

I can't tell you how happy I am Neil....THANK YOU! I saw the story when it was first posted, but I didn't have time to enjoy it. Once again my friend you never disappoint.

I think I understand why it takes you so long to update this story. It's the "re-ending" (yeah I made that up;)) of something that may have ended properly the first time. I know it was an unpopular ending, but it was fitting. It seems to be a task to separate the two Kevins. To me the first Kevin was more desperate, confused, and irrational which is to be expected given his past. He had no one to turn to except a friend who he loved more than life itself....yet that friend couldn't return that love in a manner other than platonic which is what he wanted. What else was there for him, but death after he said goodbye? The current Kevin, by contrast, seems less irrational....in fact quite the contrary. He wanted Marty's love, but only if it was genuine....he had to let Marty find his 'path' at all costs even if it meant that they didn't share the same one. This Kevin is mature enough to be content with the one good memory (his making love to Marty) than the many bad ones he has. Each Kevin represents men who have been abused (in my opinion) to a certain degree and they BOTH work in these stories.

I won't say that this ending is a better one, but I won't deny that I am enjoying it thoroughly. You more than prove your ability to write. I am enjoying Marty's self discovery!!! It seems as if I'll learn to love Marty as much as I love Kevin! This is a journey that I'm glad I'm on. Thanks again for sharing your gift Neil. You are soooooooooo appreciated!(*8*)
 
Re: Best Buddies Play Hard Redux (with a new endin

Thank you for this amazing story. I read the original and I've just now been able to read the revised ending, and I must tell you both had me tearing up. The original made me so sad and heart broken when Kevin left, and this one has made me feel so happy and in love with the way that Marty and Kevin feel about each other. I would have loved it if it was possible for Marty to help Kevin without Kevin leaving, but it wouldn't be life without a little heartbreak.

I love your story and I love the changes. If you plan to continue this story, which I believe that you should, then you will make this young author a very happy reader as well. :)
 
Re: Best Buddies Play Hard Redux (with a new endin

nice story i ever read...
 
Re: Best Buddies Play Hard Redux (with a new endin

I'm am so happy now. The first ending was good but I couldn't take it. This one so far is so much better. Sad endings are good but too many stories lately use them. You need to read something happy now and then.
 
Just to let you know that I will be posting the final chapter within a day or so. I am in the final stretch and tying up all the loose ends to this version and to the previous version, trying to tie them both together, yet making them their own story. It's been quite a challenge, but an interesting one. If nothing else, it should answer a whole lot of questions you've been asking.

There's just one more thing I think should happen, but I'm not sure I can make it realistic enough. I'll give it my best shot, though. If it doesn't work, I'll delete it and you'll never know about it. ;)

I hope the new resolution works for you.

Take care, always. (*8*)
Neil
 
Just to let you know that I will be posting the final chapter within a day or so. I am in the final stretch and tying up all the loose ends to this version and to the previous version, trying to tie them both together, yet making them their own story. It's been quite a challenge, but an interesting one. If nothing else, it should answer a whole lot of questions you've been asking.

There's just one more thing I think should happen, but I'm not sure I can make it realistic enough. I'll give it my best shot, though. If it doesn't work, I'll delete it and you'll never know about it. ;)

I hope the new resolution works for you.

Take care, always. (*8*)
Neil

Dang I can't believe I almost forgot about this story. I just hope that a day or two doesn't turn into a year or two.
 
This is 'The Beginning' of Part 10. As I explained the other day, I am trying to tie the two stories together. In effect, I am incorporating the first version into the second. I am succeeding to my satisfaction, but it hasn't been an easy task and it's taking many more words (and pages) than I had anticipated. To this point, the final chapter is over 3 times as long as a 'normal' chapter and I am still trying to find the end. (Well, actually, I have the end already written. I just have to fill in all the stuff from where I am now to where I need to be.)

I decided last night to break down Part 10 into two sections - the 'Beginning' and the 'Conclusion'. The story will end with the Conclusion. This section is, in fact, the length of usual chapter, so there's still plenty to read, but there will be a whole lot more in the final section.

Enjoy. (*8*)
Neil


BEST BUDDIES PLAY HARD
PART 10 - Beginning​

The small campfire sputtered and crackled with renewed life. The stick I held in my hand poked and prodded at the charred coals, revealing the glowing undersides. A wash of heat warmed my face as the small flames rose once again out of the fire pit, casting a gentle glow over the body of my best friend. He still sat upon the blanket close by.

Kevin sat there as he had been sitting since he'd finished arranging his clothes a few minutes earlier, seated with his knees pulled up so that his solid thighs pressed close to his chest. His legs were crossed at the ankles and his arms were wrapped around his legs. His head was bowed and his forehead rested on his knees.

He hadn't said a word.

I tossed the stick onto the fire and added several more from the small pile I'd gathered. I wasn't sure if they would be necessary, but I preferred the small amount of brightness to the loneliness and silence of the dark.

I returned to the blanket, taking up my place beside Kevin, sitting cross-legged beside him yet not near enough to touch him. My erection had subsided completely by then. Kevin's head lifted and his chin settled on his knees, but still he said nothing. He simply sat there in silence, staring into the flames. I pulled my cigarettes from my pocket, retrieved two of them, and stuck both filters into my mouth. I lit them both with a single flip of my Zippo before taking one of them into my fingers and holding it out in front of Kevin. A moment or two later, he reached out and took it into his own fingers and nodded his thanks.

It wasn't until we'd both finished our cigarettes and flicked the butts into the campfire that Kevin finally spoke. His quiet words startled me:

"I tried to kill myself, Marty."

"What!?" There was no disguising my shock, my surprise. "When!? Why!?"

"The night I went away," he replied with a bit of a hesitant quiver in his voice. "I really wanted to kill myself, and I almost did it. You have to understand, Marty. After what happened with you, all the storms that were in my head all those years were all gone. For the first time in my life, I knew who I really was. What I was. And I knew it was exactly what I wanted to be. I was happier than I could ever remember being, and I couldn't imagine myself ever being happier than I was that night. That's why I left the way I did. I was so afraid that it would all turn sour somehow if I stuck around and my happiness would all go away." He lifted his head from his knees and turned his face toward me. "Can I have another smoke?"

"Sure." As I set about getting us another cigarette, he returned his gaze to the dancing flames and continued solemnly.

"I didn't want to kill myself when I left. That idea came to me as I was riding along. I knew I loved you, Marty. More than anyone else in the whole world. But I was so afraid you would never love me back the same way. That's when I thought I could always love you if I was dead. In my brain, death would solve all of my problems and nothing could ever hurt me again. And nobody could ever take away the love I felt. . . feel for you."

I extended the lit cigarette and Kevin took it, taking a few anxious drags from it and blowing the smoke into the darkness where it shimmered orange and red and yellow in the soft firelight.

"I know it was stupid," he continued, "but after everything I'd been through with my. . . family and all, and then after what happened with you, it seemed like it was the only way I could be sure I'd never be unhappy again."

Kevin paused for a few more puffs and handed the cigarette to me. When he spoke again, his voice dropped to a whispered mumble and I had to strain to hear his words. It was as though he was terrified to say them out loud in case someone would hear them.

"I almost went through with it, Marty. You'll never know how close I came. I had just topped a small hill out on Route 2. You know, just past Bensfort Road where it goes down into the valley and turns to the left. There were only a few cars on the highway with me and a transport rounded the bend and came toward me. That's when the idea came to me. I knew it would be a fast and painless way to go, to run head-on into it. It was almost like fate was telling me I'd made the right decision in killing myself and had put that transport there just to fulfill my final wish. I remember smiling."

He reached for the cigarette and I passed it to him. He took two more puffs before continuing with his story. "I wasn't afraid to die. I wanted to be dead. Anyway, there were only one or two other cars coming toward me in front of the truck, so I let them go past me. After that, it was only me and the transport. All I had to do was to steer the bike into the oncoming lane and wait for the transport to hit me. I wasn't afraid. I was happy and I was still smiling. I think I was smiling mostly because I knew Da. . . I mean, I knew my father and my brother would never be able to hurt me again. Nobody would ever hurt me again. I was ready to die. I wanted to. I really wanted to. Anyway, the transport came closer and closer and I stared at the headlights. I wanted to time it so the driver wouldn't have any time to slam on the breaks or turn away or anything.. It came closer and closer, and when I thought the time was right, I closed my eyes and took a final breath and held it, and then I started to turn my bike into the other lane. But then I saw. . . I mean, in my mind. . . I felt. . . um. . . I. . ."

Kevin fell silent again, sitting there staring into the small bonfire as the neglected cigarette smouldered away in his fingers.

"What, Kevin?" I asked softly, trying to keep my emotions in check. "What happened? What did you see?"

Kevin shook his head back and forth two times. "You won't believe me, Marty," he said without looking at me. "You'll just laugh at me."

"No, I won't," I told him. "I promise."

"Forget it, okay Marty? Just forget it. It's stupid. Really stupid. I'm not even sure I believe it myself."

Something had changed Kevin's mind. The fact that he was sitting there beside me was proof of that. I wanted to know what it was. I slid my butt to the left a bit until my hip contacted his and I settled into place there with my legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. I reached my left arm around his back in a reassuring, brotherly fashion. My hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"Please, Kevin, tell me," I said as calmly as I could. "What happened? What changed your mind?"

Over the next few, tense moments, I began to fear that Kevin was going to remain stubbornly silent, but he surprised me by taking a final drag on his half-finished cigarette and tossing the rest of it into the bonfire. Mine quickly followed and all my attention turned to my friend.

After a deep, slow inhalation, Kevin said, "Okay." He began his explanation:

"You know how sometimes, when something is happening or is just about to happen and your brain sort of freezes time and a shit-load of thoughts and daydreams go through your mind all at the same time? It's like your brain is trying to figure out what's going to happen before it does and makes you think about things that maybe you didn't want to think about before. It was like that. There's five things I still remember most, though."

I could feel Kevin suddenly shiver beside me and that sent a shiver running through me, too. In that instant, a million horrifying thoughts flew through my own brain, and I didn't like any of the.

"First," he continued, "I remember seeing the transport coming at me, and then it was almost like a camera zooming in on it until I could see the driver through the windshield. It was my brother. My father was sitting in the passenger seat beside him. They both had wild, scary looks on their faces, like they couldn't wait to run me over. And they were laughing, too. Remember the way Alex always looked at the camera in A Clockwork Orange? Remember how scary he looked? It was like that. They couldn't wait for me to be dead. After that, I saw you and your mom and dad. You were all calling out to me and trying to grab hold of me, but every time you did, your hands would go right through me. But you kept on trying. You wouldn't give up. You just kept on trying. Another thing I can remember was seeing a man sitting on the highway in front of the transport. It was stopped. What was left of my motorcycle was all smashed up in the grill. The guy just sat there, holding my helmet in front of him and crying and talking to the visor. He kept saying how sorry he was over and over again."

For the first time, Kevin turned his eyes to mine. There were too many emotions in them for me to sort through them and figure them all out. "They all made me think that maybe killing myself was the wrong thing to do, Marty, but the last two things were what really made me change my mind."

Kevin released his legs and allowed them to drop sideways until he was sitting cross-legged beside me. His right thigh pressed against my left leg; his left hand dropped idly into his lap. His right forearm dropped into my lap and perched itself in the long valley of my thighs. His elbow came to rest dangerously close to my crotch. Had I not been quite so involved in his story, it might have caused more of a physical reaction in me than it did. As it was, there was a momentary tingle in my nuts, but that disappeared as quickly as it came.

I hugged him tighter.

"I saw Mom, Marty," he continued almost reverently, but very hesitantly at the same time. "I was standing in front of a huge door and I knocked on it. Mom opened it. She stood there, surrounded by a bright light that almost blinded me. But I could see Mom's face very clearly. She looked so happy to see me, but I could see it hurt her to see me at the same time. I knew she was dead, Marty. I knew she was in Heaven, and I wanted to go inside. You know, to be with her and have her hold me again." He paused briefly to inhale a large, ragged sigh. I could hear the sorrow and pain and effort in it. "I took a step forward, but she just held up her hand to stop me and she shook her head back and forth. She didn't say anything out loud, but I heard the words ‘not yet'. It was Mom's voice." Another sigh. "And then she closed the door and left me outside and the light went away. But it wasn't a door anymore. It was a tombstone, and it had my name on it."

There was another pause, which was accompanied by another shiver this time. "There was an old man kneeling in front of it, Marty. He was crying. I thought it was your father at first. It looked like him. But then he looked up at me and I realised it was you, all grown up and old. You looked right at me, Marty. Right into my eyes. You looked so sad. I couldn't believe that you could still be that sad after all those years. And then you looked like you were mad at me. . . like you hated me. And I couldn't understand why. And then you said. . . I heard you say, ‘How could you do this to me, Kev?' and I knew you hated me for killing myself. I screamed, and the next thing I knew I really was screaming, and my bike was just about to cross the centre line into the other lane. The transport was so damned close, Marty. So damned close. It scared the hell out of me because I didn't want to die anymore and I jerked the bike back into my own lane. Somehow I managed to stay on two wheels and I pulled off the highway onto the shoulder and parked my bike. I don't even think the transport driver knew what had happened. I just sat down right there on the gravel and cried."

Kevin spun himself around to face me, dragging his arm across my thigh until only the palm of his hand remained in contact with me. My hand fell from his shoulder to the blanket at my side. As I looked into his eyes, he squeezed my leg.

"I can handle a lot of things, Marty," he continued in a feathery whisper, "but I couldn't handle it if you hated me for killing myself." Kevin's chin dropped to his chest and dark shadows washed over his face until only one side of it glowed dimly in the firelight. "I never, ever want you to hate me. Not for anything. Not even for a second."

We were both silent for a long, empty minute or two. Finally, Kevin laughed nervously, sniffled once, and said, "See? I told you it was stupid. You can start laughing at me now."

"I'm not laughing, Kev. I believe you."

He looked up at me. "Really?"

I placed the palm of my right hand over his. My fingers curled under his palm on one side - my thumb on the other. I nodded at him. "For one thing, you don't lie very well, Kev. You never could. You'd rather not say anything at all than to have to tell a lie. Besides, I've had moments like those myself. Quite recently, in fact. Everybody does. Dad says it's the brain's way of giving you a kick in the ass to make you start paying attention to yourself." We both laughed at that. "But yeah, you were right. I hated you enough for just going away without telling me where you were, but I would have hated you a whole lot more if you had. . . you know. . . killed yourself because of me."

His fingers folded themselves under and closed themselves over mine. He squeezed very hard. His chin dropped to his chest once again.

"Why didn't you just come back, Kevin?" I asked. "That night."


He didn't lift his head when he responded. "I wanted to, Marty. I really did. But I started to think. You know, after I stopped crying and everything. I was afraid I'd turn you gay if I did."

"I already told you. . ."

He looked up momentarily and continued. "I know, Marty, but that's what went through my mind that night. I really wasn't thinking very clearly, you know. Anyway, that's when I came up with the ‘paths' thing. I decided I would just go away for awhile and let you make your own life first. You know, wait and see if there was still a place for me in it when you decided what you wanted to do."

"I've got a question for you," I interrupted. Kevin looked up and into my eyes, waiting. "What would you have done if I hadn't married Sharon? What if I really was gay and all you did was make me face the truth?" Kevin's eyes opened wide and his jaws clenched suddenly. "What if I fell in love with another man instead of Sharon and he fell in love with me? What would you have done then?"

It took several long, quiet seconds before Kevin answered. "Geez. I didn't even think of that. I guess I just assumed you'd get married. I suppose, if you fell in love with another guy, I wouldn't be sitting here now. I wouldn't have come back."

It was my turn to squeeze Kevin's hand and I smiled comfortingly. "Then I'm glad you didn't think of it."

Kevin smiled weakly, but at least he smiled. The smile faded quickly, though, and his face turned solemn and serious again. I waited and, finally, he spoke. "How could you do what you did to me tonight, Marty? After everything I've put you through. I mean, you're straight. You're married and you've got a kid. How could you. . . you know, do it?"

"You still don't get it, do you, Kev?" I squeezed his hand again to make certain I had his full attention. "I don't have to be gay to have sex with you, and having sex with you doesn't make me gay. All it makes me is someone who cares about you enough to want to do it with you."

"See?" he said. "I don't get that, Marty. I know you didn't really like doing it, but you did it. And all you can tell me when I ask is that you don't mind doing it. I don't understand. How can you not like doing something but still not mind? I don't get that."

I took a moment to think. What was the difference between not liking something and not minding it? I had to admit, it was a little confusing to me as well. It wasn't anything I would ever want to do with anyone else, and I didn't really like doing it to Kevin, but it was because of the fact that I was doing it to Kevin that I didn't really mind doing it. Still, a distant memory managed to come slinking out of some distant corner of my brain, dusted itself of the cobwebs, and presented itself as an example. After a brief moment of consideration, I thought it could work.

"You didn't like liver when you were a kid, did you?"

"Not back then, no."

"But you still ate it at our place whenever Mom made it for supper and you stayed over, didn't you?"

"Well, sure. I mean, it wasn't as bad as when she put turnip in the potatoes that time." He paused a moment to scrunch up his face and quiver in recollection. "At least liver didn't make me puke all over the dinner table."

"But you still stayed and ate the liver even when you could have gone home for supper. Or you could have just told Mom you didn't like liver."

"Yeah, sure," he said. "Why not? She was as much of a mother to me as my own mother was, and it wasn't that big a big deal to eat liver once in awhile. After all that trouble she went through to cook it and all. It didn't bother me that. . ." And then it was like that proverbial lightbulb clicked on over his head. His eyes widened and understanding filled his face. "Oh, shit. So you didn't. . . you know, do it because you thought you had to? You did it because you wanted to? Because it was me?"

I nodded. "Like I've been trying to tell you, Kevin. I didn't really mind giving you a blowjob. Maybe I didn't really like doing it, and I certainly wasn't as good at it as you are, but it wasn't that big a deal to do it." And then I chuckled. "Well, it was a big deal, I suppose. I mean, your dick's more than a mouthful, especially when you're not used to having one stuffed in your face. But my point is, I didn't mind doing it for you, Kevin. Because it was you. And tonight, when I stopped thinking about the fact that I had your cock in my mouth and started concentrating on how good I was making you feel, I realised that sucking cock really isn't as bad as I thought and I really started to like it doing it. And the fact that it was your cock I was sucking made me like it even more. I finally understood why you like doing it so much, and now I can't wait to get as good at it as you are."

Kevin's attitude had changed. I could see it even in the flickering light of the campfire. The anxiety and reservation and stubborn determination in his protestations I had seen earlier that evening were gone, and they had been replaced with hope. I could see it in the firelight which flickered in his eyes.

His eyes remained unblinking and unmoving as he stared into mine for the longest time. Only the rhythmic rising of his chest and shoulders told me he was still breathing. Finally I could both see and hear him swallowing deeply before he spoke. When he did, his voice quivered. There was hope in his eyes, but there was still fear in his words.

"I don't want to go away again, Marty," he began haltingly. "I want to stay here. Stay home. But I'm so terrified I'll be making the biggest mistake of my life if I don't get away from here. . . from you. . . right now."

His voice died away.

"Why?" I asked softly.

I thought he was going to cry when he answered me. "Because I made that promise to myself. . . to you. . . that night on the side of the road, and if I stay here much longer, I don't think I'll be able to keep it."

So, it came down to this. Kevin was still fiercely loyal to me and to himself, and his fear of betraying either of us and, undoubtedly, me in particular, was like a roadblock to him. I knew Kevin well enough to know that he would never willingly break a promise he made, yet it was obvious that I had failed in trying to convince him that it was okay to break this one.

I don't know where the idea came from, and I don't know if I even knew what I was doing as I was doing it. All I know is that I reached out my hand to him and grasped his right hand in mine. Kevin dropped his gaze to our hands and watched intently as I moved them slowly into my lap and pressed his hand palm-downwards into my crotch. My cock reacted immediately to his touch and began to fill and swell. I held his hand firmly in place as I stared into his down-turned face. For several long breaths, there were only the sounds of nature around us to break the silence.

Finally, Kevin lifted his head and his eyes found mine. With his hand still locked over my expanding crotch, I tilted my head slightly to one side, leaned toward him, and pressed my lips against his. He didn't resist me this time. Not at all. The kiss was relatively short, but it was long enough for each of us to engage in a bit of mutual, oral exploration before I ended it and pulled my head back far enough that we could once again look each other in the eye. I pressed down on his hand once more, making certain he could feel the effect his touch was having on me.

"I need you to break your promise, Kevin," I said softly.

The Conclusion of Part 10 will be posted very soon
 
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