Paint the Line: The Queer Couple: Act 3
Act 3: Of Ping-Pong and Sex
Once upon a time, there were two young men who went to pin-pong school. They quickly because bitter rivals on the ping-pong table, but little did they know that fate had much more for them in store than simply fighting each other. In 1976, the United Nations Security Council issued an edict requiring that all foreign disputes must be settled by a game of table tennis, or pong-pong. Three years later, a group of Red Chinese terrorists numbering in the hundreds challenged the United States Table Tennis Team to a match… which the latter subsequently lost. The US Team paid for the loss with their lives. The terrorists demanded a team worthy to be their rivals, and thus the Secret Service was dispatched to find players who were good enough to beat the Chinese at their own game. They came back with hundreds of hardened college ping-pong players, the heads of which were the two rivals. The two young men quickly learned to settle their differences as the battle for the free world claimed both American and Chinese lives. Near the end, only two were left standing: the two rivals and the two strongest terrorists. Soon, only one terrorist was left standing. As the American brunet hero was about to strike the final blow, however, he collapsed from exhaustion and was forced to watch from the sidelines. That man’s name was Tycho Brahe. His fellow warrior, the raven-haired Jonathan Gabriel, was the only American left standing along with the leader of the insurgency, Zhang Feilong. Both fought valiantly, but in the end, Gabriel struck a ball that would penetrate Zhang’s skull and lead to his death. The threar from Chinese terrorists was no more. The two rivals had won. Rejecting every sort of honor from the government and the people of America, the two settled down to begin a new life together.
After they had settled down in Washington for three years, the two began to realize their homosexual feelings for one another. Unable to marry each other, they were forced to live their lives as fellow occupants of the same house.
However, fate was about to smile upon them once again. Their friend and employer, James Holkins, was persecuted by member of the Christian right for his homosexuality, and the two rivals-turned-loved quickly realized what must be done. They rallied up a gay mob from Seattle’s Capitol Hill district, and confronted the Christian rightists, driving the dread foes from their sight forever.
After this, Brahe and Gabriel are now ready to settle down and live out their lives as a happy homosexual couple. And yet, there is one thing they lack. One thing that is very important: true passion for one another.
I wake up to pictures of Gabe showing off his underwear-clad butt.
Just the start I need to a new day.
I’m not even being ironic here. I jack off to these photos every single time I wake up.
Gabe has pics of me showing off my underwear-clad butt in his room.
He’s assured me that he masturbates to them, too.
Ugh! There goes the semen.
Good thing I’m wearing briefs over my dick or these pictures would have been ruined.
We’re also used to semen stains on each other’s underwear. Just thought I’d throw that out there.
I always masturbate to pics of Tycho’s underwear-clad ass with my underwear covering up my dick.
Otherwise, the semen would ruin the photos.
Of course, we’re used to the sight of semen stains on each other’s underwear by now.
I get up, stretch and walk downstairs.
Now, what should I do today?
Should I go out side and jog?
No. I don’t feel like putting on more clothes.
Should I go to work?
Oh, that’s right. We have the day off today. Jim Holkins at the pizza parlor has been so kind to us, he’s given us designated vacation days—something his father Mike never did for us.
Should I just play table tennis with Tycho?
Yeah, as soon as Tycho walks into the living room.
In fact, here he comes right now.
Classic Gabe. Always in the living room before I am, even though my bedroom’s on the same floor as the living room.
Paradox or sheer dumb luck?
I don’t know which of the two theories I like better.
Well, at any rate, he’s here, so we should just make the best of things.
“Hey, Tycho. Do you want to play ping-pong with me?” Gabe asks.
“Sure, why not?” I reply.
We always play table tennis before breakfast. Makes us all the more hungrier, I should say.
I should mention that we often bend the rules a bit. For example, we score when the server wins a point. Makes it all the more interesting, I should say.
It’s my turn to serve. Both serves fly past Tycho. Score: 2-0.
It’s Tycho’s turn now. With a look of grim determination on his face, he tries to make both serves fly past me, but I return one of them, missing the other. He misses one. Score: 3-1.
My turn. I make both serves fly past him again. Score: 5-1.
Tycho, a bit annoyed, tries to make the balls fly past me again, but this time, I return the both. He misses both times. Score: 7-1.
I make both the balls pass Tycho yet again. Score: 9-1.
Tycho is is bit upset, to say the least. He tries to score over me again, but they bounce back, missing him completely. Score: 11-1.
Another way we deviate from the official rules: we don’t usually do “best of three” or “best of five”. When one of us wins, it’s over.
Tycho attempts a smile as he congratulates me. It’s not very convincing, if I may say so myself.
Today, it’s Tycho’s turn to cook.
I always love his meals. Eggs and sausages with french toast for breakfast, grilled cheese with ham with a side dish of macaroni and cheese for lunch, and roasted chicken with french fries for dinner.
That’s what’s on today’s menu, anyway.
We like to mix things up a bit.
Last time Tycho cooked for me, I had steak for dinner. Steak! That’s one of my favorite meals, but we rarely have it, it’s so expensive nowadays.
Usually we have things like pork chops or chicken or hamburger casserole.
They’re cheaper, but they still taste good.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Tycho always puts his heart and soul into his culinary creations.
I like to think that if he ever entered a cooking contest, he’d win first place.
But Tycho’s not like that. He’s too modest.
“Here’s breakfast. Sorry that I couldn’t have made it any better,” Tycho says humbly as he passes me my plate.
I dig in, and, as always, it’s simply divine. That is, in my opinion.
Man, sometimes I wish I could cook as well as Tycho.
My cooking skills.. well, let’s just say the last time I cooked eggs, Tycho didn’t leave the downstairs bathroom for hours.
I usually fix easy things like cereal and milk.
They’re good, but not as great as hot breakfasts.
Tycho sees me finish my meal. He says” What, no tip?”
I nearly burst out laughing.
At least he laughs at my jokes.
It’s really disgusting, the way Gabe gushes about my meals.
They’re hardly worthy of being cooked by Julia Child, let alone being inducted into the Cuisine Hall of Fame!
Why, I bet I could shit into a pan and feed him that and he’d still call it a five-star meal.
In fact, I think I’ll do that one of these days.
Speaking of things that come out of a butt, why haven’t I got the chance to return the favor Gabe did for me when he came into my butthole on Christmas day?
He only said I would be “soon”, and I have no idea how soon” soon” might be.
He could be lying about letting me ejaculate into his anus for all I know.
Ah, well. I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.
I can tell Tycho’s anxious to come into my ass.
I mean, really. I can see it in his face.
I told him “soon”, and “soon” it shall be.
Perhaps even sooner than he might think.
I think I’ll play some games on the Atari for a while.
Maybe some Pac-Man, or Pitfall.
Most likely both.
“Hey, Gabe,” I say. “Could I play the Atari, when you’re done with it?”
“Sure,” Gabe says.
I watch his gaming prowess for quite a few minutes.
I ask myself: Could I be better than him at video games?
Finally, Gabe gives me the controller. “It;s all yours, pal.”
“Thanks,” I say, as I begin pressing buttons on the controller.
“Watch out for the pit! Gabe shouts.
“I am watching out for the pit!” I respond, breaking my concentration.
The next thing I know, Pitfall’s lost a life.
“You know, Gabe, if you would just let me play without interruptions, I’d like you a lot more,” I snap.
“OK, you’re the boss. My lips are sealed,” he replies, pretending to zip up his lips.
“Thank you,” I say, as I resume the game.
I try jumping over the pit again, and I succeed!
“Ha! You see that!?I gloat to Gabe. “I win, yay me!”
But when I look at the screen again, lo and behold, he’s gone!
“Ugh, these games are stupid anyway,” I rationalize. “I’m gonna go fix lunch.”
Well, I fix Gabe grilled cheese and noodles, and guess what he said to me?
“You are the greatest cook ever!”
Ugh. I sick and tired of his constant praise, even if he does honestly believe I’m the best.
“Why, yes, I am the world’s greatest cook! How did you guess?” I say to him.
Of course, he knows it’s sarcasm right away: “Nah. You’d never really say that in real life, you’re too humble.”
I groan and say, “I’m going to take a nap. You keep playing that Atari 2600 and winning at every game you own,” I say, hoping Gabe will catch my own praise for him.
He does: “Why, Tycho, I didn’t know you cared.”
“Yeah, well, you know now,” I say, as I enter the bedroom.
I wake up to the sounds of a synthesizer.
I do the usual masturbating to Gabe’s butt, then I go upstairs and check on the man himself.
Well, he is getting better. Slowly.
“May I have a turn when you’re done with it?” I ask him.
A Few minutes later, he hands control of the keyboard to me.
I play “Heart and Soul” on it a few times.
Gabe then claps. “Bravo, Tycho!” You’re getting to be as good as me.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” I respond, and I go down to cook dinner.
As usual, Gabe gives me unrealistic praise for my meal—in this case, roasted chicken and french fries.
“Sweet ambrosia!” he says. “Truly a gift from the gods!”
When will that idiot ever learn to give constructive criticism?
My guess is he’ll start doing that when pigs fly, or when Hell freezes over.
One of the two.
“Hey, Tycho!” he says. “Do you want to play ping-pong again?”
“OK, fine,” I reply.
He’ll probably beat me again like his always does. doesn’t seem fair, does it?
Still, I have to admit, he can be quite persuasive.
I always beat Tycho at this game.
Except for this evening.
This evening will be different.
And I’ll give him what he’s wanted for quite some time.
This time, Gabe suggested that I go first.
That’s fine. Anything to help me win the game.
My turn: I serve two balls; he misses both. Score: 2-0.
His turn: He serves two balls; I bounce back one and miss the other. Score: 3-1.
My turn, I serve two balls; he misses both. Score: 5-1.
His turn: I hit both balls; he misses them when they bounce back. Score: 7-1.
My turn: He misses both balls. Score: 9-1.
I can’t believe it! Finally, I’m going to win a game against him! And to think that just lest September, we’d both gotten rusty with the game. He certainly became champion of this household in a hurry.
But my joy is tinged with a bit of suspicion. Is he losing on purpose? If so, why?
His turn: I bounce back both balls, he misses them. Final score: 11-1.
I finally won a game against Jonathan Gabriel! This makes me so happy I could just shake my booty everywhere.
In fact, I think I will.
And I do.
I wave my underwear-clad butt in his face. So much so, In fact, that he gets a boner.
“No! Not this time! I don’t want to come in him, at least not yet! Stay down, boy!” he says.
This puzzles me enough to make me stop my happy booty-dancing.
“Tycho, I have a request for you.”
“What is it?” I ask, even though I already have a good idea what it is.
“Since you’ve defeated me, would you do me the honor of getting on the ping-pong table and coming into me?” he asks.
“Finally! My one true desire, granted after all these days!” I exclaim out loud. Kinda corny, I know. But still appropriate.
“Only for you, my sweet,” he says in an equally corny way.
We both smile at each other, then get onto the table.
I keep worrying that the table will break from our combined weight.
But Gabe doesn’t seem to mind.
As I stare at his butt, I feel a boner coming on, so I take off my underwear, and he takes off his,
I delicately insert my dick into his butthole.
You know what? I don’t really need any petroleum jelly. I can insert my penis into someone’s anus no problem.
He howls, both from pain and from excitement.
My dick hurts, too, but in a good way.
My heart starts beating faster and faster and faster until suddenly…
I feel the sticky texture of semen in Gabe’s anus.
Breathing heavily, I pull out, and, sure enough, there’s semen in there.
But Gabe isn’t finished yet. He begins to look at me as if he wants to come into my butthole, and I let him insert his erection into there.
As I put my cock into Tycho’s ass, I put my finger up my hole and like the semen that’s now on my fingers.
Mmm… Tastes salty. Good!
I push harder and harder until I come in his ass myself.
The experience was painful, but pleasurable nonetheless!
As we both breathe heavily, Tycho puts his hand up his ass, collects some of the white stuff off his finger, and licks it.
Gabe’s semen is quite salty.
My heart, and his heart, I’m guessing, stop racing, and we both realize what has happened.
We have almost reached reached mutual homosexual nirvana: two gay men completely satisfying each others’ sexual needs.
There is only one thing left to do.
I stick Gabe’s dick into my mouth.
Oh, his semen! It tastes so good! So good!
He likes it. I can tell by the smile on his face.
Now it’s Gabe’s tuned to suck my dick.
I feel a wave of endorphins surging through my body as Gabe drinks from the seed on my loins.
Ah, yes! Ah, yes! This is true sexual nirvana!
Gabe finishes tasting my semen, and I feel so refreshed.
Yes, this is the ultimate sexual act, for such a rush coming from sex like this can never be achieved again by man or beast! If only I could take this moment and stretch it out so it lasts forever!
But alas, it cannot. For life must go on!
We must now live our lives with regret that no sexual act we commit from the point forward can ever achieve the same amount of perfection that this act has!
No, rather, this act can only be remembered and revisited by our fallible minds, which will no doubt dull the impact and significance of true nirvana!
…Ok, so I was exaggerating for a while there. But seriously, my and Gabe having sex on the ping-pong table is now the best moment of my life.
I wonder what Gabe thinks?
“Yeah, Tycho?” I answer.
”I think I’ve just experienced the best sex of my life.”
“Yeah, me, too, Tycho.”
“Let’s never forget this moment, OK, Gabe?”
After we each go to our respective bathrooms—mine downstairs, and Gabe’s upstairs—to take a long, hot bath to wash off the semen, and also change our underwear, we rejoin ourselves in the living room and say a few final words for tonight.
“Gabe, that was a real good blowjob you gave me.”
“Yeah, and yours was a very good one, too.”
“And let’s not forget how you came into my butt, Gabe.”
“Yeah, well, it felt good for me too as did you coming into my ass.”
“Uh-huh. So, we really pleasured each other, didn’t we?”
“Yes, we did, Tycho.”
“Well, I don’t know what else to say, so… Good night, Gabe.”
“Same with me, so… “Good night, Tycho.”
And as I, Tycho Brahe, climb into my bed, I consider what has happened this day.
The moment when we had passionate sex with each other, I think, was the moment that I found out I truly loved Gabe.
As I, Jonathan Gabriel, climb into my upstairs bed, I consider this in my head:
The moment when we have pleasurable sec with each other must surely be the moment with I truly fell in love with Tycho.
And so we leave our two boys. Once rivals, now lovers, their relationship has blossomed into true passion for each other. What will happen to them next is a tale for the future, but for the moment, let it be known that they are now truly happy together.