Geoff and Chet

Chapter 23 Meets in Athens and Chapel Hill and an encounter with Reg

(Ed note: This chapter concludes with an attempted rape and related strong language. There is some discussion about affirmative action and young white male reactions to it. It does not necessarily reflect the views of the author—but it does reflect the views of many yong white males who feel disadvantaged. Skip the chapter if that disturbs you. Copyright, 2023, all rights reserved. All characters portrayed are 18 years or older. BD)

Chet's POV

Sunday we drove the BMW back to Houston, and we had a passenger, Rebecca. She was going to be on campus for a week of in person course work. Geoff had invited her to stay in the condo in our "spare room", but she preferred to stay on campus in a single room in a suite where several of her friends were in residence. During the trip Rebecca entertained us with anecdotes about her mother's over-the-top planning for the wedding, the growing size of the guest list and the wedding party, the number of events surrounding the ceremony etc. (Later Geoff and I remarked that if we ever decided to marry, it would be an elopement to an exotic location with only a few in attendance. The planning seemed exhausting, expensive, and a little anachronistic. Why would anyone want to do this?)

Our next meet was in Athens, George and only a week away against teams from the University of Georgia and University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill. Neither team was considered a candidate for the conference championship. Although it was too far to drive, Rice decided we needed to race; so the club had sprung for flights (and bike transport). We were leaving after lunch on Friday and returning late Saturday. The Athens course was the hilliest in the conference and about 100 miles long. The weather was beginning to cool and some rain was predicted for Friday night—so the course could be treacherous. We didn't expect many spectators, nor were RCC's fans likely to make the trip. Geoff had Saturday classes so he obviously wouldn't be there.

The club practiced every day. On Thursday, we drew lots for room mates and by coincidence; Pete was bunking with me again. Maybe I could find out what was going on with Reg. They had remained cordial, but Reg had taken up with Nicole and had a new weight room partner, another teammate from New York, the son of a wealthy investment banker. The flight was short, but the bus trip from Hartsfield to Athens was long because of the notorious Atlanta metro traffic. We arrived at the motel and had only a few minutes to drop our stuff, wash up and go for the team dinner.

As usual, the club curfew was 10 pm and dinner finished around 8:30, so several headed off to see if there was any action on the nearby campus. Pete and I headed back to the room. He headed to the shower and I used the next few minutes to check in with Geoff. It was a short call and Pete emerged from the bath toweling his hair and naked. He reached into his duffel, pulled out some silky shorts and slipped them on. He moved to the other bed and stretched out, placing his arms behind his head to emphasize his developing, pecs, bis and tris. "Anything on TV?" "Of course not, but you're welcome to try. My turn for a shower."

I got up, stripped and stepped into the small steamy bath tub/shower. (The condo shower was really spoiling me!) Minutes later I was finished and dressed only in sleep shorts and headed for my bed. The TV was silent. I guess he had not found anything. He was paging through a magazine, obviously not interested in its contents.

"Do you want to talk about what happened with Reg?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Well for the first few weeks of the semester you two were glued together. Then suddenly after the San Antonio meet, you cooled—no you went almost cold...and he showed up with his arms around Nicole."

"It's a long story."

"We've got some time. I'm not tired enough to sleep yet."

"Sure, then. But this is private and confidential. I've been bursting with the need to talk to someone, but I really don't have anyone that I trust. Chet, promise that this is between the two of us."

"Now, I'm not sure I want to hear this, but go ahead."

"I think at first I was infatuated with Reg. We all were. He's certainly larger than life and seems to be completely different from all of us. Celebrity has changed him into something else. He's really a god. When you warned me off, I immediately thought that you were afraid of the competition. Or perhaps discrimination was involved. Anyone who speaks with a Georgia accent like yours is automatically suspect. Even though we are friends, I always thought you were a little too guarded and careful about our one black member. I balked at your rejection of Reg and at least unconsciously decided to make a special effort toward him. I wanted him to feel welcome on the team."

"I don't think that discrimination was involved. I know my background and I've consciously tried to make sure that I'm as color blind as I can be. We've had another African-American team member for three years and I've treated him like everyone else."

"That's precisely the point. Josh has had a really tough time; so maybe he's entitled to a little slack, maybe a little more than like everyone else."

"His times make him an alternate. He's not one of the top riders in the club. Should I change that?"

"I really don't know the answer. But, I know he's good, and his financial circumstances mean he has to work—and has less time for practice."

"But Reg is different. Joshua is quiet, studious, one of us."

"I hope you're not going to say he knows his place. He's quiet because he has a speech defect; and he's a survivor of child abuse. Did you know that? He is torn up inside. Cycling is a lifeline for him."

"That's not what I meant at all. Don't put words in my mouth. I'm concerned about the team—and Josh obviously strives to be part of the team."

"You've pretty much ignored him. You should see his face when you praise another for a particularly good effort, or the execution of a good tactic. I think he idolizes you. Are you so devoted to your personal ambition that you don't see the respect, no love, that is under the support you receive from all of us?"

Pete took a deep breath, rolled toward Chet and began again, "Reg is different. He's a celebrity, accustomed to being the star of the moment, with exposure to an aggressive, sexual world at a young age, and a top athlete—declaring openly his plan to be the best. He is a potential threat to you, with your pro ambitions, and is opening himself to implicit racism. Being good, being attractive, being aggressive are all issues for a black man in a white man's world. Josh and Reg are totally different people. Josh likes you, maybe even loves you. Reg sees you as a competitor, maybe an obstacle, perhaps the biggest rival to his pro status. He needs that status to survive. Don't you understand?"

"I don't think you understand either. I didn't exactly have it easy. My folks opposed my cycling. They have ignored my successes and have just about disowned me. Without cycling, I wouldn't be at Rice today. The fact that my skin is white doesn't mean that I've slid into the position that I'm in today."

"But there was more. The situation between Reg and me is as much about me as it is about him. No one—until this experience with RCC--has ever treated me as being special. I know that you and the coaches hope I'll continue to develop and become captain next year. And I appreciate it, really. But if I fail at that, I'll lose my golden status very quickly. My family is very independent minded and conservative socially—and they expect me to be independent. That means they rarely praise anything I do. I'm just expected to perform at a high level and play the stoic macho role. Nobody in my family is openly affectionate. I don't think my Dad has hugged me since I was a baby—if then. Reg is different. He is very physical. Without RCC—and maybe Reg—I was destined to graduate with mediocre grades, and go back to the ranch and work for my Dad until he passes. Only then will I have the chance to be me."

"At first the relationship with Reg was built on my reaching out to him, to make him comfortable on the team, to feel a part of what we all had. Then when he responded and adopted me as a best friend, everything changed. I became the taker. I started enjoying his praise and his touching and his gifts. He liked me because I was me, and he wanted to help me improve myself athletically, but he also wanted me to become a person more comfortable with my own body and my own desires and dreams. And I became addicted to him. Is it possible to become addicted to a person?"

Pete went silent for a few minutes. I thought of my own addiction to Geoff. Isn't addiction called love when it involves another person?

"Did you ever get the impression he was using you for his own objectives?"

"I'm not naïve Chet. Of course, he was. He wants to be the best on the team and he wants to captain. I knew I was a stepping stone for him, but that didn't matter to me. I don't need that kind of stuff. I don't have professional expectations. I'll never have the charisma that Reg has. I'll never be a world famous underwear model. But, when I was with him, I absorbed some of his glow. It felt good to be treated in a special way."

"So what happened?"

"This is the tough part. I need you to promise this doesn't go beyond this room."

"You're scaring me. You've got it."

"Well, we had sex. I blew him a few times. He's got an enormous dick. And he got me off by stroking me and later by finger-fucking me. Both were firsts for me. I was moving out of my vanilla comfort zone. I was a player. I got off by walking on the other side, doing something that would shock my folks. Fuck, I didn't even know I had a prostate until he showed me where it was. And wow, did he show me. He was better than any girl I had ever dated. I had several really powerful orgasms. I'm sure you know how that begins the bond between two guys."

"But that's not all. We went clubbing, were given VIP treatment, and picked up some ladies that I could never have dreamed of having if he hadn't been there to orchestrate. We had an orgy at his condo—my first. I got to have sex with these two fabulous girls. And he fucked me while I was doing one of them. I knew then that I was bi. I loved being taken while I was taking. By the end of that party, I was thinking I might even be gay, certainly gay for someone like Reg. I confessed that to him—probably in a situation which scared him. You know how he likes to be in control all the time. It absolutely freaked him out." 'I can't be outed,' he said and disappeared from my life. I don't know about Nicole—you probably can guess. She's done most of the team and when she saw him after you dumped her, I'm sure she made a beeline to him. She's a good match for him. He might even be able to satisfy her incredible desires. And then he started hanging with Lloyd."

"I can imagine that the last few weeks have not been easy for you."

"No, they haven't. Reg is now steering clear of me. I'm some sort of kryptonite to his superman. But, I'm not sorry. I learned a lot about myself. Looking back, I realize that I probably have been attracted to boys for many years. I dated in high school, but never had sex. If the club had not forced the groupie initiation on me here, I probably would still be a virgin. Chet, I joined the club because of the camaraderie of all the guys, and because of you. I like you. I'm attracted to you. My teasing about your dick isn't all tease. I'd happily suck you off or let you stick your dick up my ass--anytime. You only have to say the words."

I could tell that as those last words were said Pete was choking up. He rolled over on his side and faced away from me. I rose from my bed and stretched out along side him. "It's okay to feel. It's okay to want to be touched, to be loved. And it's okay to be confused about your sexuality." I pulled him into my arms and he little-spooned immediately into me pushing his ass cheeks into my dick. I could feel him holding back sobs. He was ready to break. He had bottled up his feelings for his entire life. Reg had helped him to validate himself—and his feelings. Now Reg had turned away.

How did I get into this? What should I do now? I needed him, no the team needed him, to be at his best tomorrow and for the rest of the season. What I did in the next few minutes could determine whether Pete stayed on the team. Coming out to me was difficult for him; coming out to the team would be another matter entirely. He certainly didn't need to do that, but if that was his decision, I would support it. I tightened my arms around his chest, brought his muscular back into my chest, and my hands came to rest on his hardened pecs. His sobs seem to quiet.

"Pete, you know that I've always supported you. I need you. The team needs you. It's okay to be confused about sexuality. We all are. What do you want from me now?"

"I'm feeling really good, right here, right now. Just hold me. Just stay where you are." With those words, he reached down and pulled off his shorts. He took my hand and placed it on his rock hard penis. "Will you hold me like this?" He knew what the answer was. I gripped and automatically began to stroke. I'm sure he could feel my erection on his ass as he squirmed down into my spoon and massaged my fabric-covered dick with his naked ass muscles. He was relaxing into me, but he was also tensing with me. Soon he stretched out his legs, pushed his dick hard into my fist, and we both ejaculated. And Pete fell quiet, perhaps asleep in my arms as I released his softening dick, my fist filled with his spunk.

A few minutes later, I pulled away, covered his naked body and went to clean up and return to my own bed. He didn't turn over and seemed to be asleep. Perhaps this was his way of giving me an out—or perhaps he was giving himself one. This cannot happen again. Now I had a second team member with whom I couldn't room. I think we were just two guys jerking together in an emotional moment to get release. Pete had no way of knowing my relationship with Geoff. He probably wasn't even sure I was bi. And what would I tell Geoff?—if anything. Was this a violation of our relationship—after all, I didn't plan this. I didn't even take off my shorts, I rationalized. Was I really different from Reg? Was I allowing Pete to assume things about us that would benefit me—or was it just circumstance and devotion to the team? With these troubling thoughts, I turned off the light and tried to sleep.

The Athens meet was, as expected, a weather-caused disaster. Rain lingered into the early morning hours, and given our flight schedule, if the start were postponed past 10, we would have to leave and forfeit. Finally, we checked out of the motel and left for the start at around 9. Pete had not said a word to me since I woke and heard him in the shower. This time, he emerged fully dressed from the bath ready to race, picked up his duffel and went to breakfast. We remained on the bus until just before the start to stay warm and dry. A light fog had settled in. Hours later, the meet was over. We won, but our times were terrible—this was probably a race we would drop from our standings results at the end of the season. Curiously, Reg must have come to the same conclusion as he could have won the race, but pulled back in the stretch to allow our now typical finish: me, Chet, then Reg.

We returned to Houston for a farewell dinner with Becca. Geoff had ordered take-out and we ate in the condo. She was impressed with our living accommodations—particularly the mirrors-- and promised to stay with us on her next visit. But, she really wanted to borrow it when her fiancé was in town.

I was pre-occupied and Geoff noticed. "What a waste of time. Flights to Atlanta, heavy traffic, lousy weather, not great competition. The whole team seemed down because of the situation. I need to find something to pick up our spirits. We're off next week. Will you help me plan a team party?"

"How do we do that? Where did you have in mind? Certainly not here. And how about dates? Were you planning on coming out?"

"Yeah, you're right as usual. But, I need to do something to raise spirits."

"One bad meet—which you won by the way—doesn't destroy team morale. You're still on top of the conference."

If only he knew what I was dealing with. Not what, who: Pete was attracted to me; Reg was out to get my guts. Both had made overtures to my dick—and being young and male, I hadn't exactly been unaffected. It wasn't team morale; it was mine. And Geoff was soon going to expect to romp around our bed in a few minutes while I felt soiled in a way that one of our intimate joint showers would not clean.

"Let's head for the shower. It's been a really long, boring week. I'm looking forward to one of your Savannah slides."

I got up from the sofa and followed his bouncing cheeks, commenting without real conviction, "I think I can handle that."

The shower was long and restorative as I pressed back often into Geoff to prove to myself that he was still with me. By the time I turned out the bath light, Geoff was already in position on the king. He handed me the lube, stretched his left thigh forward to open his cheeks and his anus winked invitingly at me. How could I be depressed with this magnificent man waiting for my pleasuring? How could I be confused about myself with this much love and trust before me. I lay behind him, lifted his leg, lubed and fingered him open, and, as we had practiced, I reached around his hip and fisted his dick to steady him as I slid my snake into its burrow. I could hear his contented moans as I poked and petted his love spot. We managed to remain nearly motionless for most of the next half hour, stroking occasionally to stay hard as his sheath gradually relaxed around my pole. Finally he pushed his ass back into me. It was time to perform. And of course I did—and he did. We slowly built to a loving and powerful joint release. Geoff had a moist cloth nearby, so we didn't even need to rise to clean up. Soon we were asleep in that relaxing spooned embrace that brought me release and him peace and reassurance. I thought to myself, "Can you have forgiveness without confession? I think it starts by self-confession, not rationalization."

On Sunday, Geoff announced that he had an idea. He knew that we had another meet similar to Athens in Chapel Hill in two weeks. It was likely to be chilly (late October) but the color should be nice. Then, the following week we would be in New Orleans at a highly competitive meet. And of course it would be New Orleans, the legendary party town. "I have a cousin there and he has an interest in a riverboat casino that docks in New Orleans. I'm going to call and see if we can do a party on board on Saturday night. It's close enough to Houston that the team can drive—so we can invite dates. The cousin knows I'm gay and has two very nice younger sisters who love to party. I'll ask if they can be our "beards" for the party. I'm going to call him today. The only extra expense for the club would be a second night in a hotel or motel on Saturday. And I'm guessing that many of the "dates" will have rooms anyway—so we can keep the second night bill to a minimum. I'll take care of the rest."

"Sounds like a plan. I love it. Particularly because the week before is mid term exam week. Everyone will be ready to party. Let's go to brunch. My treat. And I want to use some of my money to help with the party expenses."

Later Geoff called the cousin and one section of the river boat was chartered. It being a Saturday, the whole boat would have been an impossible expense. Geoff handled most of the costs, but had no intention of letting anyone else know he had done so. He had several other surprises in store as well. He would know in a day or so about the availability of the sisters—but Beau made it clear that they both adored Geoff and loved to party.