dontravis.com blog post #539
It seems these two young men are looking backward into their adolescence to save themselves. Will it work? You’ll find the answer below.
RAUL AND ME
I tensed up after blurting an honest answer to his question. Did I remember jerking off together every week for most of the summer and early fall when we were sixteen? Absolutely. Eagerly. Fondly.
“Me too.” He admitted, taking me off tenterhooks. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my wife and kids. We have a great relationship, and I wouldn’t want to do anything to harm that. But… but….
I breathed a sigh of relief. He’d explained my dilemma. “But sometimes you want something different. Something… forbidden.”
He glanced at me uncertainly. “With someone you like… dammit, love… but who’s safe.”
My whole body reacted. “Exactly. Somebody you love but who’s safe. Who does that describe?”
Raul smiled at me wickedly. “Somebody you love who’s hunky and safe.”
“Somebody you love whose hunky and safe and won’t destroy your marriage.”
He sobered. “Is… is that cheating on your wife?”
I went thoughtful. “Yeah, I guess it is. But you know what? I think it’s the only way I can stay married to a woman I love and respect.”
That quirky smile reappeared. “So you’re saying we’d be getting it on out of respect for our wives.”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far. But if I don’t do something it’s gonna be hard for me to hold it together.”
“We’d have to be careful.”
“Yeah, we would. Not too many people would understand.”
His smile died. He leaned forward in the seat. “What are we talking about here?”
I shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe just what we did in the tenth grade. I can live with that… for a while, at least.”
“Me too. When?”
“No time like now,” I said.
Raul swigged the last of his beer and plunked the mug down on the table. “I hear that. Where?”
“My office has a couch.”
He was on his feet in a second, reaffirming my own eagerness.
We took separate cars and met at my parking lot. As we made our way through the darkened lobby of the building, His hand grasped for mine. Nothing had felt more comfortable, more natural than holding the hand of my best friend in the world, the man I trusted more than anyone else… the man I loved. That had nothing to do with the woman I loved. Nothing at all.
I closed the blinds and snapped on the reading lamp on my desk and then competed with him to see who could shed his clothes fastest. It was a tie. He moved toward me, but I held up a hand, stopping him. I had to see him. Drink in his macho comeliness. He could have been sixteen again, except his body had filled out in places it needed filling out. He was as beautiful a man as he had been a boy, and that’s rare.
Apparently, he liked what he saw, as well. When we finally moved together, our excitement was apparent… and, man, had that grown. Without asking permission, our lips found one another’s, and the kiss hit me right in the belly. Before either of us lost control, we settled side by side on the couch where we did what we did as kids. He grasped me and set up a rhythm while I let out little gasps and peeps of sheer pleasure. Long before I wanted, I felt the buildup begin. He continued to stroke as I erupted, stopping only when I grabbed his semen-drenched hand.
Once I recovered, I grasped his impressive manhood and found a measured beat that seemed to satisfy him. My eyes feasted on his pecs, on his wide shoulders, his flat belly, narrow waist, solid thighs all the while I manipulated him. And when he reached orgasm, I gloried in his trembling legs, his spastic knee jerks, his moans of pleasure, and the gush of hot sperm over his belly and chest and my hand. It was almost as if I experienced his ejaculation with him.
That was a few months ago. We’d been true to our pledge, limiting ourselves to occasional masturbation. Our marriages have prospered. Does one have to do anything with the other? I don’t know about Raul, but I suspect in my case, it’s allowed me to continue to express my love to Karen more fully than ever. Truth? Or an excuse to give myself permission to have sex outside the marriage? Can’t prove it, but it’s settled in my mind. It’s truth.
And so when one or the other of us feels the need, we’ll meet and express our mutual love and respect. He’s the one who called this time… in the middle of the day, yet. As he drew near enough for me to see his great smile, I wondered if he had a safe place to go in mind.
Truth or rationalization. I don’t imagine there’s an answer that will satisfy everyone, so I’ll leave it to the reader to come up with his or her answer. As for me, it’s clear.
Now my mantra: Keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say… so say it!