Chapter 10 A Picnic, Interrogations by Rebecca and Val
Author's Note: This is a work of fiction, part of a multi-chapter, two part novella. Copyright, 2023. All characters portrayed in sexual situations are over 18. The chapters in Part I are told almost entirely from Geoff's POV and cover the period until the move to Houston and the commencement of the new school year. BD
The grove was I remembered it. And it was deserted, as I had hoped. We spread out the quilt—a quilt which had hosted a lot of my x-rated pleasure, the stories she could tell—under a pair of large cottonwood trees right by the stream. It was running clear, but not deep except where a pool had eddied right in front of a rocky outcropping where the water was about chest deep. This used to be a swimming hole with a rope swing, but drought had shrunk it. I had packed a picnic from the previous night's dinner: antipasto, marinated flank steak, salads, cheese, grapes, and a long baguette. Iced tea—without sugar. We ate slowly and almost silently, listening to the breeze through the tall grass and the gurgling steam. We just enjoyed being together, softly stroking each other from time to time and reaching over for a kiss or a caress. Two small deer approached downstream warily to drink, not making a sound, but scampered away when they spotted us. The cottonwoods whispered above us and the dry grass crackled on the nearby hillsides.
We dozed for awhile and then stripped to enter the stream's warm waters. I showed Chet the new trimmed pubes. "Obviously professional—model quality. I'm not sure I can meet that standard," he said as he fisted my cock to get a better look at the artistry. "But I'll take you as the barber any day." Chet remarked that he had never seen a grown man with a waist narrower than mine—and he proved it after we entered the stream by wrapping me securely in his powerful legs, his calves crossing around my butt, as I balanced us both, our dicks floating together on the surface. He bent backwards to skim the cool, still water. I reached over to kiss him and ended up dunking him. He came up sputtering and vowing revenge. He pulled me in with him. The water was fresh and we enjoyed every moment, splashing and playing grab-tag. After a little while, we returned to the quilt to finish the afternoon—the lube was water-based and wouldn't have worked in the stream. And it was the scented stuff. He pushed me onto my upper back, spread my legs and plunged in with his tongue. "This is the cinnamon lube."
"Yeah, they call it cinnabun."
"We should save it for mornings, a breakfast of champions."
"When you're done, I get to lick the beater."
"I'm addicted to you, or at least to your better parts." "And what might those be?"
"If you don't know, forget it." He lay back on the quilt and I planted my thighs under his so Geoffy was aimed directly into his favorite playground. I pulled Chet's legs around my waist and he moved into my lap so we were chest to chest. I was going to pitch, but he was controlling speed and the level of penetration. I started pumping slowly, expanding his tunnel with each push as he responded with increasing passion. For a few minutes, he rocked into me, guided by my hands on his beautiful globes.
"I'm cumming, Geoff. Cum with me." I tensed, plunged, and let loose a long hot blast as he contracted to erupt himself. I reached down, swept his cum from my chest and licked my fingers. Then I moved forward for a long sensuous kiss as my long arms drew our bodies together.. I rolled back, pulling him on top of me, wrapped my arms around his waist, and held him tight to me.
With him on top and our ever-hard dicks rolling together, he rested on his elbows. We talked some about my EMT and ER experiences and Chet seemed genuinely interested. During an average 12 hours shift, I witnessed several life saving procedures every day. I couldn't imagine any job with more satisfaction or enjoyment. I think I convinced him that it was the excitement and challenge that drew me to medicine, not my Dad's influence and certainly not the money. Perhaps he was beginning to understand how my family had molded my sense of service and charity so it was an essential part of me. It was so easy to talk when we were lying together, arms wrapped and lips touching from time to time.
"I only wish that I had had as good a relationship with my folks as you have had with yours. I can see the confidence it gives you. And frees you to be what you want to be."
"Chet, my family is ready to adopt you. And I hope to give you some of the foundational security that my family gives me. If you'll let us." And then we just lay silently, as I traced patterns on the warm tanned skin of his back and his creamy globes. "We have time for another if you want to top me?"
"I'm really content just like this for a few more minutes but I think I will slip it in just for the feeling of enclosure—then I guess we should go in for a final swim to cool down and wash off." Of course, he couldn't just "slip it in" for a few minutes. He was quickly hard and demanding, but that was fine with me. I just loved having him inside me. And my prostate never says no to a massage.
I was falling for this guy and I'm pretty sure the feeling was mutual. But, there were so many challenges facing us in the next few months. Best not to contemplate the future. Just revel in the voluptuous present. There was pleasure in just being together and holding each other. And practicing our love-making skills on each other.
We drove back to Chet's apartment and showered, changed and went to find Becca for drinks. "Where shall we go?"
"I think she'll make that decision." We entered the house, my arm around his waist, keeping him close, which Chet didn't seem to mind, and met Rebecca.
"I suggest we stay right here. The garden is really nice and it's quiet so we can talk."
"Fine by us. (Was I speaking for "us" now? Chet didn't even blink.)
"I've got chilled Sancerre, lemonade or beer. What's your pleasure?"
"Sancerre," we both answered simultaneously.
"Go on out into the garden and I'll bring the stuff."
She emerged from the kitchen sliders in a light sundress—apparently with little or nothing beneath it. And she didn't need any help. She was beautiful. Long straight blonde hair. Large violet eyes, long lashes. A very nice set of firm tanned breasts crowded the low neckline of the sundress revealing a nice cleavage. Narrow waist that I could encircle easily with my hands. Long shapely tanned legs emerged from the short hem, legs enhanced with high-heeled sandals. I knew she was an amateur tennis contender and had the body to prove it. The epitome of a Texas princess. Certainly Miss Texas material.
"Geoff, I'm not going to start in again. I've already given Chet shit, pardon my French, for not calling us about the accident—and then for not telling me about you until just yesterday. I should be really angry. But, you guys are really cute, and after all, Geoff, you're a neighbor of ours, so you must be a Texas gentleman. I can vouch for Chet—he is one of the nicest and most mannered guys I know. If he weren't gay, I think we might be engaged now. But, he does have a fierce competitive side. Are you sure this has been going on for less than a week? Chet, I go away for a long weekend and you fall in love and are practically engaged—with someone I don't even know. How dare you?" She smiled and leaned in to peck his check. She pulled back and sniffed. "Have you been baking—I didn't think you could even boil water—I think I smell cinnamon."
I ignored the last comment, but I think Chet rolled his eyes up and choked on his wine; then said, "Wait. Don't get ahead of yourself—or ourselves? Geoff rescued me and has helped get me back on my feet. I've had some of the worst days—and the best days—of my life. Ask away, anything. We're big boys and can handle the consequences of a few dates."
"Is that all it is? I gather that you have been practically inseparable since the accident. And since you are big boys, I am also assuming that you gotten to know each other pretty well." With this last phrase, she winked and very obviously leered at me. My physical attributes weren't exactly hidden under a bushel (or under my shorts either), and clearly she knew Chet's rep and probably his endowments. My guess is that they had slept together. She wasn't as innocent as she looked, but isn't that true of most beautiful southern debs—they maintain an illusion of virginity while fucking passionately at will?
"Ok. We think it may be more than a casual friendship with benefits. But, it's too early and we are both exploring and experimenting. Nobody is going to get pregnant. Nobody is going to get hurt. And we want you to be happy with and for us."
"I only wish I had been a witness to your experimenting. Probably porn star quality. We'll see about who might get hurt. Chet has had a really rough year after his Mom and Dad abandoned him, and he is looking at a great year with plenty of challenges. He deserves to revel in this last year at Rice. He's popular and probably will burn up the track. I'm sorry he's given up the groupie lifestyle. It can be pretty exciting and satisfying, I think, for a sheltered young man. I hoped to be there for some of it. But, I haven't told you, Chet, that I've decided to do my last four courses at Rice virtually. Mom wants a blockbuster wedding and needs my help and participation. I don't think she does, but I really don't get a vote. So, I won't be in Houston to rescue you from your insecurities and uncertainties. You're going to be on your own."