" Cally's Move": Chapter Six

It's been a while since that fateful wedding and the not so cool actions of Jason's step mother. In fact, it's been quite a while since I've heard Cally even speak of Jason. After detailing the events of that day, maybe in a braggart fashion and to somehow give me notice as to his stud skills, Cally slipped into a mode of pensiveness.

The times we've hooked up since then have been measured, somewhat subdued. His usual zest seems to have taken leave and in place of it I get this problematic mindset. He seems to be down, at times confused, reluctant to spill any details on the whereabouts of his friend, Jason, although he does bring up Nathan occasionally. Since, I met them this past summer, I've never spent any time with either guy, alone. I think they may be on to Cally and I, but I'm not sure.


I met Cally during the summer also if my memory serves me well, just a couple months before that the August Wedding of Jason's sister and that hunk of a man that she married. I remember jason being very cautious in his assessment of the guy. To this day, I still don't even know if he likes his sister's new husband, but it's none of my business. I've got my own set of problems.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Cally was running through the deeply wooded trails which bordered my property. I'd often looked out through the thick mesh of pines
to see him running his usual course. The trails skirted a sinuous grove of fairly established evergreens and a deep wooded ravine, which dipped and eventually rose to level ground, only to extend further into a more expansive range of trails. I'd moved into the secluded area for just that reason: the beauty.

There were only a handful of homes at that time and it just so happened that this gorgeous man named Cally always ran within eyesight of my back patio. It got to a point where I deliberately set out to watch for him as he fastidiously ran the paths, each day. I so wanted to race out there and grab him, my hormones in disarray, but I was no runner, at least not compared to him.

With that in mind, and with all the skill of the lecher within me, I set out to corner this stud. How I intended to accomplish that, remained a mystery to me. The fact that I'm detailing a past event in the present, obviously means that something happened. As it turns out, that something was good, much better than I'd anticipated for a first run-in.

Did I call myself a lecher? Well, I am, but I happen to be a sophisticated, healthy well respected, well known, physically developed type of lecher. I'm no Couch Potato as the compliments from some of my patients attest.

I casually practice what I preach to my patients on the value of exercise and diet; however, no amount of physical agility was going to catch up with a twenty something guy who ran every day, rain or shine. I was on my own and it was that thought that let me loose on those imposing trails to somehow strike up a conversation with this guy. I was crazy, but I'd always taken risks.

I ran out there in a "tizzy'. I 'd just seen him running through the thick swath of pines moments before, and now I was about the duty of trying to either cut him off. when he came back around or at make myself known on the trail. That way I cut strike up a conversation with him. I even know where he stopped his jogs each day, having watched him meticulously for weeks.

It was my time to go after this beautiful guy. Who knows, maybe he was gay or bi, that might make it all the easier, but that wasn't any guarantee. Past experience has taught me that sometimes its easier to strike up a conversation with a straight dude. They don't expect the come on and usually it's after the fact that they realize your intentions. Sometimes they've softened enough to let you into their head and that's when you pizazz them. It could take months. I know all about that effort.

I huff and puffed my way through a grueling run: down the hill, up the Hill, through the ravine, sprint to my house. At this point I wanted to stop, but I kept on going, down another hill, through a long stretch of God knows what underbrush where the trail had been washed out by a heavy rain, back onto the trail, around a tortuous bend which had the audacity to curve upward. I found myself gasping for breath when I finally decided enough was enough. The whole time I hadn't seen that gorgeous guy who I now know as Cally.

I came out in a clearing, a short distance from my house. My eyes watered, my side ached and before I could feel better, I had to feel like shit from the exhaustion. Exercise does that and so I let it take its momentary course before the exhilaration came on. Funny thing, but around that same time, finally catching my breath and wiping the sweat from my eyes, I looked over and very near to me was the object of my desire, He sat there on that bench, water bottle in hand, sweat evaporating from his well conditioned physique. Screw it, I was walking up to this guy. My fatigue was a good excuse to plop down beside him.

He looked at me with those soft brown eyes, skin glowing from the robust application of workout and good health. His lips seemed to twitch slightly as the cooling breeze blew our way. I hoped he wouldn't stutter because I could see the intermittent twitch in his lips. It was a foolish thought; nevertheless, it was mine. I would hold on to it until he said more than one or two sentences, then I would know.

I felt demoted in my thinking when he greeted me with the most alluring, somewhat cosmopolitan smile. He moved to one side, allowing me berth next to him, in a simple but congenial act. I was delighted! All my masculine fag genes were turning on me and I was fast becoming a parasol flussy, effete, melting in my own disguise, weakened by the seeming innocence of a stranger who just happened to be my Lancelot.

By the way, as you probably know by now, I'm given to exaggeration at times. I am however, solvent in my thinking, enough to know that I was working my tail off in order to lure this guy into my clutches.

He smiled. I smiled. We both were smiling and for the moment it was somewhat awkward until he offered up his name.

"I'm Cally." he extended his hand to me.
"Perrin." I returned the greeting.
"Another unusual name." He said.
"Yeah, " I tried to act nonchalant about my baptismal name
"This is the first time, that I've seen you out here."
"I live over there." I lifted my hand, gestured over my shoulder without once loosing eye contact. I was being a prefect gentleman. "This is my first time." I paused, "Can you tell?"
" The outta breath thing?" he laughed.
"That and the 'hard to breathe thing." I added.
"You need to take it easy at first." He said, "this is a rough run with all the dips and climbs." He asked, "How far did you run?"
"How far?" I was finally catching my breath.
"Yeah," he offered, "These trails go on for miles."
"They do?" I was actually dumbfounded, but I felt ignorant, living within walking distance from the bench where we sat. I had that puzzled look on my face, but that was good because it hid the rapture in my mind as I gazed upon this hunky male next to me.
"Yeah,judging the way you're sweating and breathing hard, you must have run a hefty course."
" If you say so." I added, "I thought exercise was supposed to make you make you feel better. I feel like shit."
He laughed. "Fist time thing." He paused, "If you don't run you obviously work out."
"It shows?" I took the opportunity for a little self deprecating humor. Being who I am, and in my line of work, I'm always aware of this angle.
"You're in good shape."
I could have melted at that one. This beautiful thing beside me was complimenting me and I was old enough to be his daddy, at least I assumed so.
I changed the subject.
"You live close to here?"
"Not far."
For some reason at that moment, Cally reached down, casually adjusted his dick in those wonderful, baggy, silky shorts that hang loose and show the gift that keeps on giving. It was the first time I dared to glance down at him. When he adjusted himself, he looked away momentarily and I took advantage of the time to stare at his crotch.
It wasn't one of those simple adjustments. He seemed to prolong it, pressing the folds of his shorts together several times and thinking nothing of me sitting a foot or so away from him.

Maybe this was my mind, the mind of a lecher. Most guys probably aren't even concerned about that type of move. They most likely don't give another guy's presence a second thought. They just do it when the need arises. Makes sense; however, in this case, Cally was treading on dangerous ground. I wanted some of that and that type of thing made him all the more irresistible. I felt the slight rise in my shorts before I quickly willed the thought away.

"So you ready for a beer?" I chanced the move.
Cally didn't look at me at first. It was like he was weighing his options or just be a little cautious, but my chance pulled through.
"Sure." he said with that wonderful full of life smile, "I'm ready."
Somehow, I knew there was more to his answer, but I wasn't certain, It could have been my overactive want in high gear and I decided to leave it at that. I got up from the bench.
"This way." I offered.

It only took a few minutes for Cally and I to reach my house. Yes,I lived in that beautiful secluded, wooded area that we had just been running through. I've always loved nature and it was here that I chose to reside for a combination of factors, but mainly for the privacy. I also loved the trails which bore the look of regular maintenance along with that primitive aspect.

You actually feel like you are enmeshed deep within a forest s you walk or run the gamut. They seem to go on endlessly; the deliberate planning of a estate broken down into several tracts. There are only seven of us back here in this area, although unbeknownst to the public. There are no signs or visible barriers to keep people away. Anyone venturing back far enough off the road would run into this sort of remote, sort of off the beaten path community. The homes within it represent the individual tastes of the owners, of which mine is one.

I'm not going to get on to all the details about my property. That's too drawn out. Suffice it to say, that I've done quite well in my Endocrinology practice, having built up a considerable reputation and a slew of centers across the country. I've also developed several well known products used on the market today by millions of Americans, So yes, I am wealthy but so is everyone who lives back here.

"How did you find this place?" I asked Cally.
"I just drove back here one day. I'm sort of curious in general." Cally went on to explain." I thought that eventually I'd probably run upon some private property with the "No Trespassing" signs in plain view, but I never did.
"Surprised." I asked.
"Hell yeah!" Cally responded urgently, " this place is awesome!" He spoke with the energy and enthusiasm of a youngster. "I haven't told anybody about it."
"I'm glad you like our little homestead." I offered.
"Like it. I love it." Cally looked at me with those soft sensual eyes, "I took a chance one day, parked my bike and got out and just started to run. I guess I thought that if I ran across anyone they might just think that I belong here and not hassle me."
"Have you?" I asked
"What?" he looked at me,
"Run into anyone?"
"Nope." he responded, " And I've been running here for several months now."
"This is the first time I've seen anyone back here. I don't even see the neighbors that much."
"That's good." Cally responded, "I'm not much into crowds."
"How far do you live from here?"
"A few miles." He answered, giving more detail. "It's pretty quiet where I live, but not this secluded. My pop built our house in a wooded place, not far from the city, but I'm long gone outta there. For now, I live by myself, while I build up my business."
"And that would be?" I asked,
"Pest, bugs termites, you name it. I'm up to seven employees now. Not bad for three years."
"I guess not." I was duly impressed, "I guess there's a need."
"Yep." Some of Cally's answers were short, maybe even a little distancing. but I certainly didn't get the feel that he was hiding anything and I decided to press on.
We were approaching my house. Cally was silent as we came up to the entrance, crossed the threshold and entered the foyer.
"Wow," he said, "Nice place."
"Thank you." I offered, not wanting to get into specifics about my home, "I like it."
"How long have you lived here?" He asked,
"Eleven years."

We walked through the foyer with its seventeen foot ceilings and massive chandelier. We peered up at the balcony bordered with rich cherry, the winding staircase off to the left, the library leading to the den and a host of other rooms through which we passed before we finally came to the back room in my house which overlooked the sylvan depth of my homestead and the woods beyond.
"This is unbelievable." Cally was smiling, "simply awesome," he said.
"Please have a seat." I motioned Cally over to the plush sectional, "I'll grab a couple of beers."

Cally gave me that approving look. His eyes seemed to betray his coming ease. He sat back, sinking deep into the sofa, his well developed thighs accented by the sky blue
shorts which hung loose exposing the dark underside of his thighs.

I could see the dark fabric of hair that flowed in delicate waves up and down his legs, blending into the soft tufts which covered his thighs, gradually disappearing beneath his shorts where the imagination took over.

His legs were spread wide, inviting and yet I knew it for what it was-an unpretentious
exercise of the obvious. He was at ease. Returning, I glimpsed the weight of the day
take over as his eyes grew heavy. That sudden overwhelming relaxation had seduced him, if only momentarily, into a type of stupor. He sat back in the quiet comfort of an old friend. I thought to myself.."amazing".

A few minutes later he opened his eyes to find me watching him.
"I'm sorry." He said.
"No reason to be." I followed, "the beer's still cold."
Cally rubbed his eyes and forced himself forward. He had sank back comfortably, so his initial efforts sent him back against the sectional. His legs flew up slightly. I halfheartedly chuckled at his attempts to right himself. Frankly, it was all about the joy of seeing this wonderful male so completely relaxed in my presence. It gave me a feeling of warmth within that transcended my sexual motives. The daddy was there, the comforting center of my existence where I could connect with the pure physical beauty
of youth, as if a spawn of my own making.

He managed to correct himself and get to his beer. His legs were still spread, slightly less, but apart enough that I could see the glorious development between his thighs, hanging, slightly loose in those revealing shorts, nut sack dipping slightly below the fold at his crotch.

A definite bulge indicated the resting place for this dude's pouch. The pointed tip, a little above and laying slightly to the right indicated the lay of his cock. From a respectful distance, say two or three feet, which is where I sat( well, where did you expect me to sit? across the room form him?)

Hell no, I was right there upon that, but not to close for my interest to be obvious....anyway, as I was indicating, I could see the slight swell of the tip of his cock head through his shorts. It was driving me crazy. This part was always the sexiest.When you could imagine, be so close and yet not have full access to the source of your dreams. Half naked, under clad guys showing box, like in GQ had always turned me on. I let my imagination run free and I was certainly there at that moment so I had to contain myself.

Cally slurped his beer, seemingly ignorant of my fantasy. If he was aware of my admiration, he took it all in stride. Between gulps, which is the way he drank, he was simply gazing around at everything as if he were in a museum.

"It seems a bit overwhelming, doesn't it?" I asked.
"Where'd you get all this stuff?"
"I loved the simplicity of his question. There was no pretentiousness there, no attempt to intellectually curry any type of favor with me. There was implicit flattery in the statement, but not deliberate. It was one of those genuine curiousities. I could see it in his eyes as he looked around.
"This is some neat shit." he added. "Excuse me!" he caught himself, "need to watch my mouth. We both smiled at that, he, out of his embarrassment, me, for other reasons. You figure it out.
"Just some things from different countries." I added. "keepsakes. souvenirs." I really didn't' want to get into the story behind all my accumulated crap that others could find beauty in. Well yeah, I guess some of it was special or I wouldn't have carted it all the way home from the God fearing regions of the world, but here and now, I didn't want to talk about it. I merely wanted to sit there and stare at his beautiful thighs, marvel at the sculpture beneath the fabric, snug, pressed there against the warmth of his inner thigh, yearning to be free.

There I go again with my active imagination. In reality, his dick was there and I could see the head poke out beneath the cloth and so I knew what that was, and that his nuts had obviously dropped into that position, revealing a sturdy bulge. It was a simple choice and so I chose horniness over composure, but I wasn't about to let this guy slip from my hold by some premature advance. I'd bide my time.

Truthfully, since this was the first time I'd had the chance to hook up with Cally, the extent of his presence known only through his frequent forays onto the trials through the deep woods bordering my property, I couldn't very well gauge his reactions; however, as he looked around I did detect a bit of reserve the way he offered up his opinions.

Also, on more than one occasion, and understanding the male libido quite well, I could see an underlying mischief in the way he looked intently at me as he spoke. Our conversation was true, not strained, but relaxed as if to offer up the suggestion that any topic could be broached. As we sat there, both of us chugging one then another beer, feeling it go to our heads after a long day, it truly became an inspirational first meeting. I felt good and I could tell by Cally's banter back and forth with me that he felt the same.

Several times, he let his hands run down across his thighs, briefly lifting the fabric, exposing a swath of man fur that creeped up into his crotch, disappearing from sight. He rubbed his thighs gingerly, occasionally grabbing the tip of his dick with two fingers, rolling the head as to counteract an itch. He probably wasn't aware that I noticed each occurrence of said act, but it was on my mind.

My folly was in the unique lecher that I had become, clever and indeed treacherous. that's why I kept mind, body and spirit together. I needed to look good for my pleasure. A pretty picture with a broken frame would serve no use in my hunt, and the hunt was so much the better of my joy.

The second beer, and the timing was perfect. Twilight had just settled in and the balcony overlooking the wooded ravine was welcoming. We moved from the comforts
of the den to table side, where an inlay mosaic, framed in oak, supported by a sturdy
base of rosewood, served as the centerpiece for our beers.

Cally was initially hesitant to sit his beer on such a masterful table, but I saw the hesitation and handed him a coaster. I sat mine down without one. You couldn't hurt this mosaic. I had it shipped here from Peru and it seemed impervious to abuse. All the same, it was a beauty and being full of my collection, I valued his thoughtfulness.

The sun set full over the horizon and the mesh of tightly connected underbrush formed a foundation for the weave of stately pines, deeply embedded in the ravine, then rising to level off into a sinuous network of old and new growth which ran along the trails. We could look out from our view and capture the beauty of this place-this small area of the world, within the metropolis, where all seemed to be outside of worry as twilight moved to night. This was my home and I felt blessed to be so fortunate.

I guess that was the overall feeling because in a short span of time we had become comfortable with each other. The approach of night had taken us from rushed mode to the ease that flows with evening tide. For the longest moment Cally sat there sort of mesmerized by the view. I knew it to be one of the most beautiful in the county, but I wasn't willing to offer up my prejudiced angle on my home. I let it rest, let him enjoy that which was before him. I said nothing, keeping my distance from his thoughts so that he take it all in. I wanted the moment perfect and it was.

I don't think either of us wanted to admit how tired we were. The day had been full of events and the presence of Cally was emotionally draining for me. I wanted this guy to like me; to take me as a confidante, and of course to lead him into the throes of pure male to male comaraderie.

It existed, I had known bits of it at different points of my life with other males, but marriage and family had interrupted this cycle in my life. I, like most males had let go to conformity, ignored my own feelings in favor of accepted social norms. Truth be told, I had never been in love with the mother of my two children. Now, alone. my wife deceased of her own psychotic wanderings, my kids grown, successful, my time was finally my own, at last.

Cally was at that point, at least I felt that way about his driff into the ease of the evening. That release, made it easy for him to warm up to me. He looked at me with the special sentiment of an early friendship. I truly felt that truth could evolve from this and that our mutual bond could develop, unhindered.

I wanted to touch him so bad, to feel his maleness, savor the aroma of his masculating presence, maybe take a pinch of his flavor for memory. He was about me, near me and leisurely prolonging the moment. Even in my need, I recognized the unpredictable and so chose the safe company of distance. I wasn't sure, but that's always the case. I needed to feel the signs more deeply, to let them cross my path, feed more into my sensibilties about the moment. Then, I would feel more confident, free to explore.

Cally let his hand brush slightly against his thigh. For a moment it lingered there, a small pinch of his dick head between his fingers: the typical male scratch or stimulation. I couldn't tell, but I surmised that Cally might be throwing me conscious signals to act on, comfortable ways by which straight males make known their ease and willingness, but I still needed more.

"Wow, I'm tired." Cally said, "I hate to ruin the moment but I think if I don't get going, I won't make it home."
"Stay here tonight." I was forward. It was a deliberate, but measured in its intent. There was no indicator to give away my thoughts. In reality, I was tired also and the beers made rest imminent.
"Maybe I'll take you up on that." Cally said.
"This way." I motioned as I got up from the table. It was definitely hard to leave the moment, but sleep beckoned.

We slowly made our way to the bedroom where Cally would sleep. I could tell you about the slow revelations of a straight male, many fashioned from fatique, and the dreamy
concourse of expressions gradually spilling from his tongue, but that would ruin later moments. These were the tired times, the special times when guys let down their defenses.

On the way to the bedroom, he slipped off his shirt to reveal a beautifully sculpted torso. He was so carefree about the way he showed himself to me, and the closeness
of his approach made me feel wonderful. This guy was taking all the challenge, well at least some of it, out of my quest.

After indicating the whereabouts of bathroom and toiletry items, I moved to the door, unrepentent about my desires, but careful. I stood there and looked at him as he slipped his shoes off and with the casualness of an old friend, swiftly slid his briefs down and over his magnificent ass. He stood there naked, his stately, but relaxed man piece hanging, his balls falling slightly beneath. I salivated and hoped
he didn't notice.

"Goodnight." Those were his last words as he lay down on the bed, his beautiful spread accented by the depth of his tan against the white linen. The rest was up to me.