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Reply to alien_writerPosted to the RoswellSlash mailing list October 21, 2003
You may not believe me but my best friend, Michael Guerin, and I share an unusual and powerful bond. Up until now we have ignored it but now I can't any longer, it's driving me crazy, with pleasure.
I walk up the few stairs to his apartment door, not bothering to knock mainly because Michael doesn't bother to lock it; I open the door and head into the apartment. I find myself looking at what could easily been the mess left by a household of fraternity jocks, but what really is only the untouched mess of Michael.
Ironically I can hear the shower running, most likely because Maria had told him he was beginning to smell like his house. The bathroom door is slightly askew so I go stand next to it and call out to Michael. "Michael I'm just going to watch some TV while I'm waiting for you to finish your shower, ok?"
Michael answers saying "Max, come in I need to talk to you now."
"I'll wait at the door then," I replied.
"Don't worry Maxwell, there's so much steam in here you want see anything you don't want to."
But I'd already seen, already felt it.
I slowly opened the door and walked in. "What is it Michael?" I asked.
"It's sort of personal," he replied shyly.
"It's me Michael; I know all your dirty little secrets already."
"That's it Maxwell, you don't. You see I feel this connection with someone, someone very special to me and I know that they might shun the feelings I'm having for them but I need for them to know, do you understand what I'm getting at?"
Without noticing I had left the door opened and thus let the steam escape the room, the fog was thinning and Michael was becoming clearer and clearer to see.
"I think I understand," I replied.
That's when we both get the flash, no the connection between us and we see ourselves through each others eyes. It ends quickly even though it seemed to go on forever, but really only long enough for the steam to fully clear.
I see Michael in all his naked beauty and as he washes himself I can feel his hands touching his soft skin, likely caused by some always present alien/human hybrid psychic connection. He could even feel me enjoying his self exploration and my pleasure was his pleasure.
I... I mean... he smoothly glided his hands down his chest, over his hips and then following his snail trail downwards he began to explore the thing that made him male.
Slowly he aroused himself causing my masculinity to arise as well. Our connection, our mutual pleasure became stronger as the pleasure increased. Michael had his hand firmly gripped on his manhood as he slid down against the shower wall to rest on the floor. There he pumped himself slowly, very slowly, agonisingly slowly.
It wasn't that we were gay but rather we loved each other as our friendship had spanned over two lives, maybe more. We had learnt about our connection only recently at school.
Maria, as usual, had been flirting intensely with Michael just before the bell had rung for class to start, she whisked off to class, brushing against Michael's crutch as she past. Michael after suffering weeks of this couldn't take the tension any more so he went to the male toilets to relieve himself knowing he would have privacy there as everyone else was in class already.
I on the other hand had just arrived at school, running late after my alarm clock hadn't gone off in time. Desperately needing to go I headed to the bathroom.
Michael entered a stall, undid his pants and sat down. Just then someone, being me, entered the toilets and headed to one of the urinals. Great Michael thought, being impatient Michael began to pleasure himself as silently as he could.
I think it was the close proximity that caused our already close connection to go to the next level and I know it was the sexual energy that strengthened this new bond.
Anyway there I stood at the urinal feeling immense pleasure as I urinated. I finished but could not move as I closed my eyes tilting my head upward.
Michael's pleasure was already heightened by his earlier arousal from Maria so it flowed powerfully into me as he increased it. I couldn't resist. I grabbed my manhood and began to jerk myself. In no more than three strokes I heard Michael moan with pleasure as I spewed fourth into the urinal mimicking a similar situation in the cubical.
Michael cleaned himself up a bit and caught his breath, as I was doing, before opining the stall. He opening his mouth to say something but was interrupted by some student with a hall pass coming to use the bathroom. We both washed our hands and left, Michael having to follow the boy to art class.
Now two days latter, I find myself collapsed on Michael's bathroom floor grabbing my manhood again and stroking it in unison with Michael. In under a minute I heard Michael scream with pleasure, as I was doing.
Nothing could beat this experience.
Michael, breathing heavily, spoke, "Max... I don't understand this... I'm not gay... but I do love you..."
"I know Michael... I Know..."
Continue to Chapter 2
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