Drinks With An Old Friend 1

"Who's James?"

Henry's face went white, his heart faltering for a moment. "What?" he asked.

He recomposed himself as she glanced upward. "James. He's just messaged you." She held up his phone to show him.

Henry stepped closer, not wanting to believe it. He squinted at the screen until it was close enough to read, and grabbed it from her hands.

Half a dozen times before, at most, she had used his phone. And James had to text him now. The odds against it were incredible.

"Adler," he choked out. "James Adler. Just someone from college."

"Have you talked to him recently?" his wife asked, already reaching out to reclaim the phone. Hers was off charging in another room somewhere.

After a moment's hesitation, he closed out of the message and handed it back over.

"Not since graduation. We weren't very close." He stepped toward the hallway, eager to be out of her sights.

"Are you going to get a drink with him then?" she called out after him.

He grit his teeth together and slowed his pace for a moment. "No."

The bathroom slammed shut, and he locked the door behind him. He avoided her the rest of the evening, eating his dinner quickly over the desk in his office, pretending to work. As the sun had dipped below the treeline, Henry sneaked off to bed.

But she wasn't far behind. She appeared in the doorway as he brushed his teeth, and sidled in next to him to talk.

"I'm going to be out next Friday, too, you know. I think it'd be good for you to go and have fun. You never hang out with your friends."

Henry scrubbed silently for as long as he could, plotting his course through the conversation ahead.

"I don't have any friends," he said, spitting toothpaste into the bowl. "And I like it that way."

He stepped up behind her and, with a sigh, tugged her backward into his arms. "I want all of my time and attention on you."

As he tried to nuzzle into her neck, she swirled out of his grasp. "It's not healthy," she pushed on. The look on her face grew more serious. "You should have someone you can talk to, and share things with. Someone who's not just me. I don't like you being all alone when I'm not here."

"I'm not lonely," Henry said, running his fingers through her hair. "But if you're that worried, I'll go see my cousin on Friday. Would that make you happy? I'll get out of the house for a bit."

"They're in California right now. And it's not the same," she added, batting at him weakly.

"But I don't even like talking to this guy," Henry pushed on. "If I did, we wouldn't have lost touch."

"It's been so long time since college, though. People change. You shouldn't be cutting anybody out."

Henry swallowed. He could feel it. He was losing this.

"I'm not cutting anybody out. He was never in." Henry thought about it for a moment. "They're having a party at work," he tried. "Some kind of ceremony-"

"I'll tell you what," she said, turning and throwing her small arms around him. "If you go have this one drink, just one drink -I'll give you a free wish."

A brief, shameful image flashed through his mind. She watched the look on his face and grinned.

He had to admit, there was a chance she was right. James might have matured in all the years since school He might have let some of the worst habits go.

But it wasn't very likely.

The image flashed through his mind again. Blood flooded to his cock in response. Her eyes widened wickedly and she reached down. He swelled faster in her hands. She ground herself gently back against him, looking proud, like her seduction had worked.

"I'll take that as a yes?" she purred.

Henry closed his eyes. After a long moment, he nodded. "Yes."

The week passed with rapidly mounting, and carefully hidden, anxiety. Through it all, his wife only grinned, teasing that he finally had a friend; that he had a play date.

He held out hope that love or guilt would wear her down as the day approached; that she would offer to let him back out of the deal, even if it was just a bluff. But the offer never appeared.

And so, that Friday, Henry returned from work, took a shower, and headed right back out into the night, a case of beer in hand.

"Don't come back before midnight," his wife called out after him. He could think of nothing to say in return.

The address James had given was on the other side of town; an apartment complex far to the north, on a street he'd never heard of. Henry idled in the parking lot outside for as long as he dared. With a pained sigh, he stepped out into the balmy summer night and headed onward.

James was on the second floor, at the far end of the building. The battered door pulled open on the second knock and a head of shaggy black hair emerged to greet him.

"Thump? My God, you look the same," James said, giving a snarl of disgust. With a laugh, he dove forward, pulling Henry into a bear hug that pulled him off the ground.

"Jesus," Henry gasped, when he could finally breath again. He eyed his friend over again, and gave a disgusted look himself. "Well, you have." A great shaggy beard now covered the man's chin, with more than a bit of gray was flecked through it.

"All that clean, moral living can be hard on a body," James sighed, slipping back into the house and pulling the door open wide for his guest.

Henry followed him in, sweeping a glance around the place as he walked. The small room inside was a wreck, with clothes scattered about and empty bottles lining every flat surface. He quickly came to a stop.

"I think your dorm might have actually been cleaner."

James gave another harsh laugh. He swigged down the last of his beer and tossed it onto an overflowing trashcan.

"I don't remember yours being any better," James said, waggling his eyebrows. He seemed to spot the case of alcohol in Henry's hand. "What's that?"

"Beer."

"Nah. We're moving on to something better than beer," James said, waving it off. He stretched up to the cabinet tops and pulled a bottle of amber liquid free.

Henry watched him carefully from beside the entrance way, his eyes narrowing as the man struggled to pull the cork from the bottle with his teeth.

"You doing okay?" Henry asked.

With a pop, James staggered backward, holding up the bottle in triumph. He spotted Henry's face, and some of the excitement seemed to drain from it.

"I'm not drunk," James said. "Or I'm not as drunk as you think. I thought we were gonna have fun."

"Where you working now?" Henry asked.

"Some insurance company. They've got me doing claims. It's alright," the man said with a shrug. "It's work."

Henry nodded. It was acceptable. He stepped forward carefully and eased himself onto the sofa. James collapsed into a recliner beside it and handed over the whiskey.

"Girlfriend moved out last week," James explained. "That's all this," he said, gesturing to the mess around them.

Henry grit his teeth, forcing his lips into a polite smile. He lifted the bottle, took the merest hint of a sip, and handed the bottle back.

"Together four years," James choked out, downing a messy gulp himself. He seemed very eager to talk about it. He thrust the bottle back into Henry's chest without looking.

"That sucks," Henry said flatly.

His eyes flashed back to the door. Even his wife would understand if he left now. He hadn't signed up for drunk crying.

"I'm not drunk," James insisted again.

"You seem a bit drunk," Henry replied. "I'm married now."

James blinked at him for a moment. The grin returned, all troubles apparently forgotten. "Really? When?" He sounded more skeptical than curious, Henry noted.

"A few months out of college, actually."

James raised an eyebrow, and gave a quiet chuckle. "Well, good for you, man. How is she?"

"Pregnant. And more than I deserve." Henry took a proper swig and gagged on it. "Jesus, this shit's awful."

"We always called this the good stuff."

"We used to be poor." Henry's eyes glanced around the trashed and filthy room again, and regretted it. James didn't seem to take offense, though.

"Well, congratulations. That's... ten years then?" James went on, scratching at his chin. "And you never-"

"Nope."

James eyed him for a moment and nodded, silently taking back the bottle. "Must be a hell of a woman."

Henry nodded. A long silence dragged out between them.

"You know," James went on, "there's a good bar just across the road. If you want something else, we could just head there."

Henry glanced up at the clock. Less than five minutes had passed since he'd arrived. Walking to the bar would kill another five. But a bar would be harder to escape from.

"I think I'll just have one of my beers." Henry rocked to his feet and went to grab one. James held onto the whiskey.

But, after a few sips, Henry settled in. And, after a few more, they were chatting about friends Henry had long since forgotten. James caught him up to date on all their various lives and scandals. He, at least, had stayed in touch with some of them. Henry cracked open a second drink without thinking.

Every so often, though, James would steer the conversation back over to the girl who had most recently walked off on him. He would get sullen, and his eyes would start to shine. Each time, Henry guided him quickly back away.

Until, at last, James wouldn't be diverted any longer. "So, what happened?" Henry sighed.

James waved his hand dismissively. "Enh, nothing. Caught me with another girl," he mumbled. "And she chased her away, too."

"What a bitch," Henry said dryly.

"You don't understand," James wailed, collapsing for a moment against the seat cushion. "She was supposed to marry me. I was fine that she never in the mood. I was understanding. I still gave her everything she needed. I didn't pressure her. I did all of the dishes. But weeks would go by..."

Henry shook his head is disbelief. "So, you gave her everything... except fidelity then, right?"

James lurched back upright, shaking his head. "Well, I was still there for her. Not all of us have perfect little wives that suck your balls dry the moment you come home, you know. Or what was that other thing you used to like?"

Another primal image raced across his mind. All muscle, and sweat, and savage need.

He shook his head until the image was gone.

"It's not always like that," Henry said, cutting him off. "We have our ups and downs, too. But we still always put each other first. She's not always in the mood. I'm not always in the mood, either. But-"

James collapsed laughing against the chair. Before Henry could stop him, James dove out of his seat and onto the couch beside him. He threw an arm over Henry's shoulder and leaned in.

"You're telling me that you, little Thumper, aren't still the horniest little bastard in town?"

"I never liked that name," Henry said, shaking his head. He tried to pull free, but the man gripped him tighter.

"One pump," James said, holding up a finger. "Every time. Like a little virgin. I'd give you one good pump and you'd be blowing your load all over the sheets, tapping your foot out against the ground like a rabbit," James laughed. "Don't tell me that's changed, too."

Henry looked away, a blush burning rapidly up his neck. "Not anymore," he said quietly.

A silence stretched out again, suffocating the room.

"What are you talking about?" James asked, his voice growing serious. The arm slipped off of Henry's shoulder.

"I don't like that anymore," Henry said quietly. His eyes locked firmly onto his drink. "We do other things."

A painful silence crept out once more. "Damn, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Henry said quickly, readying himself to stand.

It was nearly nine o'clock. He could hide in a parking lot somewhere until it was safe to come home. Anything was better than this.

"I love what I have with my wife," Henry said, his voice tight.

James held up a hand defensively. "Of course you do. I'm sorry."

He sipped quietly at his bottle for another moment. James went on, "And, you know, after ten years, I'm sure she knows what gets you off better than I ever did."

Henry nodded quickly, hardly listening.

"Forget what I said. You know what you want. I think that's good. I'm happy you guys have that."

Henry nodded again, but inside he was furious. He was in his thirties now, and it was still a few measly hours out of a few measly nights that seemed to overshadow the entire rest of his life.

No matter how deeply down he buried the memories, there they were, like a canker sore that wouldn't fucking close. Always clawing at the edge of his brain, demanding his attention. Refusing to just fade away.

Henry's hands clenched together suddenly, crushing his empty can.

"Then again," James went on, watching him carefully, "I don't remember you ever being able to ask me for it, either. I was always the one to initiate. Always the one to insist. You couldn't admit you needed it even then."

Henry launched to his feet, and dropped his empty can onto the coffee table. "I'm gonna go."

But James was quicker. He was around the coffee table before Henry could even take a step. His hands shot out and he shoved Henry back onto the couch.

"Hey!"

"You're not going anywhere yet," James told him. "I'm a friend, and you've got me worried. You said she's perfect, right?"

Henry's eyes flashed angrily. He looked around to see if there was another way out, but there wasn't. He turned back to James and nodded defiantly.

"She's not going to hear you. This is just you and me. Are you honestly telling me she's giving you everything you need? That you've never wanted more? Never been too afraid to tell her what you want?"

Henry nodded quickly.

"And you wouldn't get the slightest bit of pleasure out of getting ridden one more time?"

Henry swallowed hard, his eyes distant. He tried to shake his head, but it wouldn't move.

"Don't you dare lie to me," James warned. "Did you ever tell her that you used to like it?" No response came. "Do you ever, you know, try it yourself?"

Henry's face turned darker red. He gave an indifferent waggle of his head. "It's not the same," he mumbled.

"Really?"

Henry chewed on his tongue for a moment. "It's just limp rubber," he said, his voice barely audible. "I'm fine."

James frowned at him for a moment more. "Does she know about the toy?"

Henry looked at the ground and nodded. "I bought it for her birthday. It was for her. So that it'd be in the house."

James clucked his tongue. "Sly," he said, taking another slow drink. "But if that didn't work, then we need another plan."

He scratched at his shaggy beard for a moment, apparently deep in thought. "Do you remember when we first started hanging out? And you were just starting to see that Chloe girl?"

Henry didn't reply.

"And you thought you might be dating, but you weren't sure, so you didn't want to do anything with me anymore? But then you kept screwing up your chances with her, and you said you were too horned up to think straight?"

Henry's eyes widened, but he shook his head 'no' frantically.

"You don't remember that? And then you said it wasn't cheating if we beat ourselves off next to each other?"

James stepped closer, until his knees brushed against Henry's.

"No."

Henry moved to try and stand again. With the flick of his wrist, James' zipper rolled down. A pale, half-erect cock spilled out from between the flap. Henry froze very still.

Except for his hands. His hands shook quite noticeably.

With a sigh, James ran his fingers underneath the length of it, propping his cock into the air. He peeled back the foreskin with one slow pull. His eyes slid shut in pleasure.

It took a few strokes more for him to swell to full size. His cock darkened from pink to red as it grew. The head of it spilled out from the foreskin a bit more with every inch, suddenly swelling into hard, clear ridges. James' hand worked faster.

"Are you just going to watch me?" James breathed, peeking from beneath one eyelid.

Henry nodded softly. Already, a hard bulge was stretching against his jeans.

James moaned deeply. With a shimmy, his pants spilled to the floor. Snug, black briefs clung to him, with his cock jutting out from a slit in the front.

The last of Henry's will broke. His hands fumbled at his own zipper. His feet trembled with sweet relief as he gripped around his own heavy cock. He tugged at it, racing to match his friends' rhythm.

The room was silent once more, save for the sound of their furious pumping. But, this time, it was a good silence. It was intimate.

Their eyes held onto each other as the muscles of their arms worked at furious speed. A blush had crept into both of their cheeks now. Henry's cock burned an ever darker red as he squeezed it tight between his palm.

"Take off your shirt," James whispered.

Henry nodded, and quickly pulled it free, tossing it out of sight. James followed after him, revealing hard knots of muscle and a dark curve of his hips.

"I want to see all of you," James said, as Henry's tried to resume his beat.

With a sigh, Henry quickly kicked his way free from his jeans. He hooked his socks off as he kicked his shoes aside. The soft touch of the couch against his bare ass and balls sent a stream of pre-cum dribbling down through his fingers.

Then James stripped, too. He slipped quickly onto the couch, sitting once more beside his friend. Their shoulders and thighs pressed against each other as their hands beat faster.

Soon the room was filled with the sound of slapping meat and the smell of musk. Their fists pounded harder against their laps. Pre-cum seeped down Henry's hands in great rivulets, making the sound of his work wet and sloppy.

His eyes became locked onto James' hairless shaft as it bulged red beneath the man's blurring fingers. The last time Henry had seen it, there had been a dense tangle of black hair around it. Now he could see every glorious inch of it. It was sleek, and powerful, and knotted with throbbing veins.

James gripped himself tight by the base, his hips pumping against his hand in a fury. The last few inches of the man's cock were left unclaimed, waving in the air above his lap. Before Henry knew what he was doing, his fingers reached for it, latching around it, just above James' fist.

For a moment, they stroked the man's length together. They watched with their mouths hanging wide, both of them unable to look away.

With a hard moan, James let go of himself, and he gripped Henry instead. They stroked each other quickly for a moment. That was all it took for the last of Henry's willpower to waver, and then collapse.

He opened his lips wide and dove into James' lap with animal abandon.

James seemed to be waiting for it. His hands gripped against Henry's head and he pumped his friend down hard, slamming him down against his thighs and dragging him back up again quickly, working Henry's mouth like a toy.

Henry's cock spilled pre-cum across the couch as he knelt there. James was every bit as sleek and smooth against his lips as he imagined. A sweet gagging stretch ran through his throat as James pushed in deeper.

With every pull of the man's arms, his cock forced its way down a throat that was just too small for it. The air was pushed from Henry's lungs. The muscles of his throat compressed around it. His chest trembled as it tried and failed to pull in air. His body spasmed and pushed closer and closer to the edge of orgasm.

After a moment, Henry had to try and push away. He wasn't ready to cum yet. He tried to force the man to slow, to give himself time to relax. But James either didn't noticed or didn't care. Henry howled wildly as his balls pulsated. Muscles trembled up and down his body.

James' clenched Henry tighter by the hair and worked the man's mouth faster. Henry gagged one final time, spittle spraying across the couch. His body buckled and shook all the way over the edge.