Sitting with Greg was a bit like being at a porn show and a bit like being in the principal's office. I was always worried about saying the wrong thing and at the same time I couldn't keep my mouth shut. While I sat and kept him company, he went through his exercises and contortions as he honed the upper half of his body back to its natural rippling form.

One day I came in and he was chinning himself furiously. I don't know why I liked it when he sweat but I enjoyed watching the water running down his chest and into his lower reaches. It made his muscles shine in the most delicious way. The continence of his atrophied body had faded as he focused on exercising day in and day out.

It gave us less time to argue because he rarely said anything after he exhausted himself. That gave us time to stare at each other and the sight of him was no less exciting than the first day I saw him and I saw a lot more of him now.

The last five pull-ups seemed agonizingly slow as I stood just inside the door. His biceps bulged as he watched the crossbeam he was trying to conquer. His chest swelled with air as the water dripped down his stomach and into his rich pubic hair as he swung limply on top of his smooth balls, almost hiding them if they didn't flop. The big cast on his right leg had been cut down sometime early that day or late the night before. Doctors here did things on their own schedule. It now only reached his knee and the new freedom exhilarated him.

Each time he pulled himself up the pin in his left leg pulled tight just below the knee and this challenge to his disability made me wince. The metal gear that held it all together clanked and yanked and he ignored whatever pain it caused if any. He pulled himself up twice more, struggling with a third, finally he let his bare butt come to rest on the pillow that usually cradled his head.

I don't know if he knew I came in or not but I suspect so. For the first time he looked at me as his head leaned back on the wall and he panted and tried to speak at the same time. His nipples were both erect and perky in the midst of the moisture that covered his chest and shoulders. I counted four rivulets of water running onto his stomach but his skin was damp all over.

"You bring the gloves?"

"No, I forgot," I said, rushing as usual to get to him.

"Damn it Martin, I don't ask you for much. This thing is tearing up my hands."

He looked at his hands so I'd know the thing was tearing them up, but he didn't go further.

"I'll go look for them and come back tomorrow," I said, standing up not long after I sat down, but the chair was close enough that he could grab my arm and he did. "Or, if you don't like that idea, I'll rub lotion into your hands for you. Unless you need it rubbed into something else."

Of course I knew he'd stop me and I kept the chair close enough so that he could touch me if the mood struck him. It usually only struck him after he was done talking me into touching him. Those conversations weren't very long but if there was one thing he needed more than his gloves it was relief from the boredom and his overactive libido. There wasn't much else to keep him occupied so we spent a great deal of our time keeping him satisfied.

At times it got raw and too sour for me to touch and I wondered how many times a day he got himself off when I wasn't there. He was good for two or three most days while I was there but these were secrets he kept until he got too sore and then I'd get to use lotion there as I often used it on other parts of his body to keep his skin smooth. It was a good way to get things started without me acting too anxious or him having to ask me. There were things about Greg that were almost predictable; his constant need for control and relief being one of them.

I understood he was never going to fall all over himself trying to let me know how he felt about me but he showed me in more ways than I ever thought he would or could. There were those days when he would go first and make me last and then he'd hold my hand until we rested or it was time for me to leave. There was a sadistic streak inside him that gave him great pleasure when he stopped just short of the moment of truth and forbid me to finish myself off. Sometimes I did anyway and did it on his chest and arm. He didn't hesitate finishing what he started once he was good and ready but I didn't complain. I had more of Greg than I ever dreamed possible. For the most part he growled little and rarely insulted me except when I bit him by mistake or sometimes not.

The hospital staff mostly co-operated during my visits. I heard stories about him taking spells when he was calling for a nurse constantly. Once I arrived they could all relax, because I waited on him. Doug was the only one that ever walked in when he was too far gone to stop. Of course Doug took it in stride. He'd seen it all and nothing surprised him about his brother. He told me later, it's good to know it all still works. It had worried him that what his brother once had might have been lost or damaged by the accident and I assured him he wasn't damaged in that department and if anything he was more horny than before. Of course Doug found that hard to believe.

"They cut the cast down," he said, after catching his breath. "Thirty-six today."

"Yeah, your leg is pale."

"It'll tan up as soon as I get out of here."

"When?"

"I don't know. They keep staring at this one. There were three in here last night. All Colonels. I get the brass, you know. They took X-rays and just stood around shaking their heads and passing around the X-rays."

"What did they say?"

"Give it time. It's early. These things don't heal overnight."

"They've been saying that for two months. Overnight must mean something different to doctors," I said.

"Yeah, I noticed that too. Want to wipe me down. I don't want to get my sheets wet. Set the pillow over there so it can dry. Do my ass first."

He reached for his towel and tossed it at me. It was incredible how far he could get while being screwed to a damn bed frame.

"Do my butt first and then my back. I need to lie down," he said, leaning up away from the wall, pivoting on one arm after grabbing the chinning bar over his head. I tried to reach under him and do it from one side as he leaned forward.

"Move around the front to do that side," he said, keeping himself elevated.

Reaching around him with my right arm, I was chest to chest with him as I started to wipe his shoulder and the top of his arm. He put his lips on mine and had his free arm wrapped around me before I knew what we were doing. He always surprised me when he did something like that. I lost the towel and felt his still damp skin. His tongue had grown and he didn't hesitate feeding it to me. The passion told me he was firing up for a couple of go-rounds. It was still nice because he didn't rush me to do anything. We held each other and kissed without hurry. This would be one of the good days.

After awhile I sat next to him with my face on his chest. He seemed to be asleep as one of his arms was across my shoulders and his breathing became long and even. As always I couldn't leave him alone for long and I didn't. I used the towel to finish drying his legs and all of a sudden his arms reached up for the cross member and he pulled himself up.

"Do my bottom. You got me sweating again," he said and seemed quite innocent. "I don't think it even got soft."

His bottom was off limits for the most part. On a few special occasions, back when he was still out of it, I got away with stimulating him there with my roving hand but he'd let me know that it wasn't in play. Putting lotion there or drying him didn't take long. On this day he decided he didn't mind no matter how long I took.

He did about half of a pull up and I moved to the top of the bed and shoved the towel on his bottom end. While he held himself there I lost the towel and felt his round bottom. I sat on the bed behind him and let my fingers feel it and when there was no objection I poked at it with the tip of one, making sure I felt up between his legs until his balls were on my fingers.

The removal of the big awkward cast had created much more flexibility and mobility in his upper body. With the new strength in his arms he could stay airborne long enough for me to admire that which I had often dreamed of taking off of him. He finally had to lower himself and my state of excitement over his exposure to me was no surprise to either of us. What was surprising was that when I reached around him, he too was out standing in that department.

"Don't even dream about it," he said firmly, letting his naked ass rest on the front of my poking pants as I massaged his front end with long strokes.

Once he settled back on the bed he was totally erect. He leaned back against me and didn't say anything. The sheet he usually used to hide it from prying eyes was on the floor but he never tried to hide it from my eyes any more. In fact he more often than not drew me to it any time it demanded attention. There were no more inhibitions between us, well, maybe one, but that too seemed to be changing as Greg adapted to his circumstances and to mine.

He gave more and demanded less. We'd often sit and watch television, holding hands, and he'd ask the damnedest questions right out of the blue.

"Do you think two guys can fall in love?"

"Yes!" I said impatient with the question.

"Yeah, me too. I don't mean love love. I mean I haven't talked to Joey since Friday night. love. I love guys. Herbie, Dougie, my old man. I know that's love. You. I just can't be sure guys can be in love, you know. I don't see how they can."

"Believe me Greg, they can."

I continued, "You said me. Do you love me?"

"I never said me. I said you. In a way I do. That's why I asked about it. I know how I love the old man, Dougie. I don't know how I love you. It's different than that. I mean it's like the sex is cool and all but I been with dudes and sex was all "just thanks and move on." Why is that do you suppose?"

"I don't know. I never think "thanks and move on. I don't suppose I've ever been with anyone I didn't want to stay with," I said, thinking about it in a way I hadn't before. "I want to be with someone all the time. I need to be with someone all the time. Being alone is about the scariest thing there is."

"You and me? That what you're saying? You think we can be together forever? You love me that much?"

"I don't know," I said, not willing to give him that to use on me.

"I wonder because I'm laid up here and you're about the only one that remembers I'm alive, except for Mom and Dad. Maybe that's why I'm starting to feel more like I.... I guess I don't know what I feel any more."

"A feeling is part of feelings. How can you take one and use that to explain anything? We feel a hundred things all at once. I feel all kinds of different things for you. There's no way to explain how that works. I don't know. Maybe when I get older I'll figure it out. Right now I just want to feel what I'm feeling."

"You do love me though, right? Spending all this time up here. Seeing me act like an ass and all. And you still love me?"

"Greg, I think I've always loved you, and I think I always will. I do know that."

Speaking about a conversation stopper. I was always afraid to express myself to him. I never knew if the silence was about him thinking or about him thinking I was some kind of a total nut-job. He didn't have anything to say about that but he didn't make me get up or leave him alone, so whatever he was thinking, he was thinking he didn't want to interrupt the flow just then.

There was no explanation. We were from two totally different worlds. I knew I liked guys for as long as I knew anything about anything. Of course when I was small, all I knew was that I was different. I didn't know how until I was old enough to find out. I suppose that's the way it is. We can't know what we know until we know it. I couldn't know about loving other boys until I could love other boys, but then I did love them.

Greg was nothing like me. He liked boys because they gave him what he wanted. It was more about what he felt than what he thought. There was no connection beyond what they did together. Once they were done the only time he thought about it was when he was ready for more. Once little girls came into the picture for him, everything changed. He still got what he wanted from little boys but it was just something he needed until he found something else.

Maybe there was no love of the boy for Greg. Maybe he could separate sex from the rest of his life and from his feelings. Maybe married guys who go out and buy prostitutes or have affairs are like that. It's just a biological need and it's not important where the relief comes from. Once the need is strong enough, you seek satisfaction. Then there were the guys that were married, and had families, and they drove into town from time to time, and went to gay clubs and gay theaters and baths to get that shot of whatever they needed, and then they went back to their family and their wives until the next time the need arose.

I didn't know how you figured all that out. We were all different. I was different. I never knew anyone so different as me. I was different enough to want to hang onto whatever I had with Greg as long as I could. Being in love was way better than anything else I'd ever found, and that would never change.


Send Rick an email at [email protected]

On to Chapter Forty-Five

Back to Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Index

Rick Beck Home Page

"Discovering Love" Copyright © 1 September 1997 OLYMPIA50. All rights reserved.
    This work may not be duplicated in any form (physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise) without the author's written permission. All applicable copyright laws apply. All individuals depicted are fictional with any resemblance to real persons being purely coincidental.

Home Page | Authors | Stories by the Writer Suggested Reading | Suggested Viewing | Links Privacy Policy | Terms of Service Send a Comment All Site Content © 2003 - 2024 Tarheel Writer unless otherwise noted Layout © 2003 - 2024 Tarheel Writer