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I was four years old the first time Dad took me to a football game at the university to watch George play. I remember how George ran over to our seats, lifted me high in the air above his head, then holding me upside down gave me a big kiss on my forehead. And when he brought me back down face to face, I squeezed his cheeks with my little hands and gave him a smack on his lips, telling him, "I love you, George." . . .

I guess I was maybe six the first time I heard about the cave below the Roble's house. I was at a barbeque with my dad in their back yard standing at the low wall that enclosed it, looking out at the town down below. It was George that told me about it. And he warned me that I should stay away from it because his dad would get really pissed off if he caught me down there. He made me promise to stay out of it. Since George was my hero and was always nice to me, I had no problem making that promise. For as long as I can remember, George Robles has been the one man, in addition to my father, who has been important in my life.

George's father, the head of local law firm, Robles, Franklin and Benning, always joked that my dad, president of our local bank, became a banker just for the hours. The truth was that Dad inherited his position just like Georges' father had, and as George and I will someday. Anyway, Dad was home a lot more than George's dad, and gave George a lot more attention than his father did. George's mother had died before I was born. George's father was one of Dad's close friends, even though he was quite a few years older. Dad's always been like an older brother to George and took pride in all his accomplishments. George and his father lived across the street from us in the other big mansion on top of the hill. I grew up having the whole hill top as my playground

* * *

Mister Robles, George's dad, warned me when I was eight that the cave below his house was off limits. My dad often reinforced that warning, so I stayed away from it. But then one time when I was around fifteen I was by myself and bored. Never having even seen the cave entrance I decided to go see it. So I wandered down the little used path that led around and down behind the Roble's place to end up in a bunch of big wild bushes and scraggly trees and discovered that they hid the entrance to the cave. I don't know what I was expecting, but I was disappointed when I saw the hole in the hillside.

I had no intention of entering the cave, which like I said; I'd been repeatedly warned to stay out of. There's a big boulder on one side of the entrance, so I plopped my butt down on it and lay back to just enjoy the warm day hidden amongst the bushes. There's something about sitting in the sun that makes me horny, and I soon had my jeans opened enough to get to my stuff, which was already hard, and lay back against the boulder fondling my balls and spreading the precum over the helmet of shaft with one finger when I heard groans and moans coming out of the cave. I listened for a bit, thinking it might be a wounded animal, but then I heard words mixed with the groaning. I thought someone must be hurt and that they might need help, so I crammed my stuff back in my jeans and cautiously sneaked inside and was absolutely flabbergasted by what I saw.

There was George, naked, bent over a boulder and Walt Franklin, his close buddy, pounding into him. I knelt behind a big boulder just inside the cave mouth and watched as the two naked men traded places. I was so close to them that I could have taken two steps, reached out and touched George's butt. Without thinking, I dropped my jeans and took myself in hand. I was already horny, and watching George plowing Walt, seeing his big muscular butt and back muscles flexing, put me over the edge. I must have groaned louder than Walt, 'cause George turned and saw me in the throes of the wildest orgasm I'd ever experienced in my life.

He'd stopped his fucking, but stayed buried deep in Walt's butt. Walt was struggling to turn around, but George held him in place with a hand on his back. He smiled at me and said, "Come over here, Johnny." His voice was calm and friendly. Walt was cussing under his breath. George smacked the back of his head and told him to be quiet. Hiding his face, Walt laid his head on his forearms and obeyed. I stood up, pulling my pants up. "Come on. You know I'm not going to hurt you, Buddy."

"I didn't mean to spy on you guys. I thought someone was hurt with all the moaning and groaning you were doing. You were really loud before you traded places."

George grinned at me. "So you've been here a while."

"Yeah… I couldn't leave." I was fighting back tears. My voice was cracking. I glanced at Walt, who had his head buried against his supporting arm, and wished that I was in his place. I wanted to get a look at George's cock, but he had it buried.

George grabbed my arm, pulled me to his naked side and gave me a hug. I held my pants up; my wilting tool still hanging out. "It's okay, Johnny, that was some wild shooting you did there… but listen to me. I want you to go to the mouth of the cave and keep watch for us. We'll get dressed in a minute and be out in a bit. Will you do that?"

I nodded, but didn't move. I wasn't only seeing George's wondrous body up close for the first time, I was leaning against it. I wanted so badly to raise my hand and touch him, to put my hand on his hairy butt to feel it just once, but all the sensations of him hugging and all… along with his strong scent, had my brain locked up; my hand refused to move.

"You're my good buddy," he said. Patting me on the butt, he turned me and gently pushed me towards the entrance. I realized he hadn't called me his little buddy like he always had in the past. I loved George; he made me feel grown up and special.

I tucked myself back into my pants, buttoned up and stumbled out to sit on a boulder outside the cave. It was a couple of minutes before George's groaning and moaning started up again. I could hear Walt cursing, but soon there was a roar from George, and I knew he'd climaxed, then I heard him tell Walt to 'shut up'. Thinking about what had just happened, I got hard again - I couldn't help it - but I didn't do anything because George had said he would be right out.

It wasn't long before both men came to the mouth of the cave completely dressed. Walt was acting nervous. He glanced my way a couple of times as I heard him ask George in a low voice, "How're you going to keep him from talking?"

George answered, "Don't worry about Johnny. He won't talk."

Walt frowned in my direction. I could tell he didn't like me. It didn't matter though; I'd never liked him either - and after that menacing look I liked him even less. George patted him on the shoulder and Walt turned back into the cave. I supposed that he was going to stay inside until I left, which was fine with me. George sat down next to me on the boulder and put his arm around my shoulders. I leaned into him. This was nothing new; I've leaned into George's hugs for as long as I can remember.

"So, what you saw in there - did it shock you?"

I was feeling too shy to answer, so I shrugged against him. My face was burning.

"I know it excited you. Did you like watching?"

I managed to nod my head.

"Can you tell me what there was about it that excited you the most?" He looked down at me, snuggled against his big muscular side and smiled at me

That relaxed me and I grinned up at him. "I liked watching your naked body, especially your butt."

He slightly blushed, then after a bit, asked, "Did you like looking at Walt's naked body?"

I shrugged. "His is okay, but yours is beautiful."

"What did you think about what we were doing?"

I wanted to look at him, so I swiveled to sit with my legs drawn up. "I've dreamed of doing that with you. I thought I was being queer imagining you doing that, but I can't be since you really do it." I looked away, no longer comfortable looking into his soulful brown eyes. "I just wish you would do it with me," I muttered.

He didn't say anything for a bit. I could tell he was embarrassed, but he smiled gently at me. "Johnny, you're too young to know if you're going to be a man lover. I'll be getting married someday and having children. And if you're planning on following in your dad's footsteps and taking over his bank someday, you're going to have to get married, too. Walt's wife is having a baby soon. He told me today that this was the last time we'd get together."

"I'm not going to be a queer, George. Even if I was, it would only be for you. You're the only one I want." I had kind of figured that if I planned on getting married and have a family, then I wasn't queer.

"Johnny, I'm nearly twice your age."

"Doesn't matter, all my life you've shown me and told me that you love me. That love may have been a brotherly love, and I've loved you the same way since… as long as I can remember, but now it's different. Even if you won't do with me what you and Walt were doing, I'll still go on loving you."

"You're only fifteen, Johnny. I'd get hanged from the nearest tree if I touched you sexually, even if you do want it."

I sighed and turned around to lean against him again. He put his arm back around my shoulders. "I tell you what," he said. "If you're still feeling this way when you turn twenty-one, I'll give you what you want."

"Really, George? You promise? Because I'll still be wanting you a long time after I turn twenty-one."

"I promise, Johnny." He kissed my upturned forehead. "You know I always keep my promises."

After a bit, he said, "Would you mind letting me sit here alone for a bit?" He hugged me tight against his side, then let me go. Even though he said it as if he were talking to another adult, being dismissed made me feel like a kid.

I shrugged as if I didn't care. "Sure, George, Dad's probably wondering where I am anyway."

The first thing I noticed when I reached the street was that Walt's car was no longer parked there. I just figured I'd been so involved in talking to George that I didn't notice him leave. Dad hadn't come home yet, so I sat on our front porch steps where I could see George when he came back up.

Mr. Robles, George's dad, was sitting in his high-backed wheel chair on the porch across the street. He'd had a bad stroke a few months ago that had partially paralyzed him. His man that took care of him, sat at the old wicker table reading. Mr. Robles waved to me with his good arm. I waved back, then propped my chin in my hands, my elbows rested on my knees, and sporadically glanced at them while I watched for George. After nearly an hour, George came out the front door wearing a suit. I sat up straight and wondered how he'd gotten back up the hill without me seeing him. There must be another trail I hadn't found.

He stopped and talked to his dad. They both looked at me and George waved. He kissed his dad's cheek, got into his car and drove down the hill. Mr. Robles had his man roll his chair back inside. My curiosity got to me; I couldn't recall any other trail. Since Dad wouldn't be home for a while, I stuck my head in the back door and told Wanda, our housekeeper and cook, that I was going hiking. Wanda became my nanny when my mom died soon after I was born. I loved Wanda. Even though she was black, I still treated her like she was my mother.

I hurried back down to the cave and carefully examined the whole hillside below the house, but it was rather steep and there wasn't even a bunny trail leading up there. Being a Boy Scout, I searched for signs that George had climbed the hill to his house. There were no such signs, not even a broken twig. I stood at the mouth of the cave, but it never occurred to me to explore its depths.

He must have gone back up the only trail and I'd simply missed him. I shrugged thinking that's what must have happened and trudged back up to the house. Dad was home, and Wanda had dinner ready. I pushed the events of the last couple of hours out of my mind. Dad would be curious if I was preoccupied.

George never said a word to me about not telling anyone about what I'd seen him and Walt doing in the cave. Still, I never told a soul. As time passed, I pushed the memory of my wish to the back of my brain and forgot about it. It was something that would never happen. That day at the cave was never mentioned - until about a month before my twenty-first birthday.

I was a junior here in Los Robles at CSU and on the swim team. I burst through the back door after practice one afternoon to discover Dad and George sitting at the kitchen table. They both smiled warmly, but I could see concern in their eyes as they both studied me. Rather than confront them, I turned to the fridge to get a Coke. I popped the cap off and guzzled some. Dad said, "John, please sit down and talk with us."

I pulled out a chair at the end of the table, turned it around and sat with my arms propped on its back. "What are we talking about?" I asked.

"You," Dad said.

"What about me?" I asked, feeling rather cocky.

"We were talking about your upcoming birthday," George said. I wondered why Dad would be talking to George about my birthday. And then I recalled the conversation with him outside the cave six years ago and realized that it was the other way around. George was talking to Dad about my 'twenty-first' birthday. I turned and stared at him. He kind of blushed, and I knew then that he'd told Dad about my wish and his promise. He and Dad had always been tight since as long as I could remember.

The muscles around my mouth tightened as I frowned. I glanced at Dad, who looked noncommittal. "What about my birthday?" I blandly asked, looking from one to the other.

It was George that spoke. "I told your dad about your birthday wish and my promise."

That he told Dad about my birthday wish and his promise meant that he'd just told my Dad about me; but then - he was telling on himself, too. I'd long since realized that whether a guy married or not, if he liked sex with other men then he was queer. I wondered if he'd told Dad about himself, or if Dad already knew. Although Dad and I are close, I'd never discussed my feelings with him. What was the point? I'd never done anything with any guys. I looked at Dad and he didn't look the least bit perturbed. I thought of several different responses.

"I was fifteen," I said. George looked rather crest‑fallen at my response.

Did he really think that I could respond positively to being revealed to my dad? He'd put me in a difficult spot. I glanced at Dad, wondering how he was taking the revelation that I wanted to make love to George.

He smiled tenuously. "I love you, Son. If this is what you want and it would make you happy, then....." He kind of dipped his head as if the rest of the sentence had gotten stuck. Dad and I stared at each other. His eyes said all I needed to know. He loved me unconditionally.

"So, are you saying that it's no longer what you want?" George asked.

I looked back at George. I was still upset with him for going to Dad behind my back, but as I thought about it, I saw that he'd been planning on surprising me on my birthday, but to do that he had to expose his own sexuality. Dad didn't look upset and he was still sitting at the table, so I figured he must be okay with us. I decided to meet this head on; there was nothing to lose. I looked George in his eyes and said, "I told you then, and I'll tell you now in front of Dad. I've always loved you. That will never change. It will never diminish. I am aware that you're older than me, but it's not something to consider anymore. I appreciate that you respect Dad enough to discuss this with him, but in a few days it won't be his concern."

I swallowed and looked at Dad. I couldn't tell what he was feeling or thinking. I felt, though, that he did need some assurance. "I will eventually get married and take my place in your bank, Dad. I would like to have children, too. But just once, I want to express my love for this man." I nodded my head at George. "I don't expect you to understand my feelings toward him, but I do appreciate your acceptance. I love you, Dad."

"I do understand, John. I won't explain how, but I do understand."

I stared at Dad a moment while my imagination considered an unlikely thought of maybe him and George… I quickly snuffed that thought; I respect my father too much. He's never put his nose in my private life; there was no way I was going to venture into his. I felt the same way about George. If I hadn't wandered into the cave that day nearly six years ago, and if George hadn't queried me, I'd never have done or said anything about my desire.

George rubbed my forearm to get my attention. "So, you're not upset that I discussed your wish with your dad, and my plans for fulfilling my promise?"

My first reaction was to grin at him, but for some reason, I felt like this was a very formal occasion - like when a man asks the father for the hand of his child. I answered him in such a manner. "George, all of my life you've treated me as someone special... like someone older than what I was. The day you promised to fulfill my wish, you never told me to keep my mouth shut with threats of bodily harm like most other guys would have. You didn't even ask me not to tell anyone. That meant so much to me. You trusted me implicitly. It raised you even higher in my esteem than you already were. That you would seek Dad's okay on this, shows me that you really care about me, and that you respect me and my dad. I love you, George. No, I'm not upset."

George looked relieved. Now was the time for payback; I mentally grinned, feeling a bit evil, but kept a straight face as I shook my head and said, "I can't believe that you really sat down with Dad and discussed how I'm going to lose my cherry."

The look of astonishment on George's face, as well as Dad's, was priceless. "You're joking," they both said, almost simultaneously.

"I decided that day on the hillside when I was fifteen I was going to save myself for you." George blanched - he just looked at me as if I'd unexpectedly punched him in the gut.

"Damn, Son," Dad said. "I've watched girls falling all over themselves, vying for your attention, and even a few of your buddies, too. I really thought you were taking advantage of it, and George was just going to be another feather in your cap."

"Why would you want an older man like me for your first?" George croaked.

"You're only thirty‑two. Dad's forty-nine, and he is nowhere near old. So, where are we going for my birthday?"

The question restored George's equanimity. He grinned slyly and winked at Dad. "What makes you think I'm going to ruin the surprise?" Damn, he is so handsome. There's a bit graying on his temples, which made him even more desirable in my eyes.

"Oh, man," I groaned,pouring it on. "You're really going to make me wait a whole month?"

"Ah, you poor kid, it's only twenty‑seven days."

"You're counting?"

George grinned lasciviously. "Hell, yes, I'm counting, and I'm planning to turn you every which way but loose."

I glanced at Dad. He was grinning, too. My face flamed. I couldn't take anymore embarrassment. I leaped from my chair. "I gotta go," I said, and fled upstairs, hoping that they hadn't seen the excitement George's statement had generated in my jeans.