Reggie's Hair

Reggie's text had signaled to me that something was up, maybe bad news or something troubling. He sat on the sofa with a smile on his face. I sat next to him and waited, letting him take his time to say what he needed or wanted.

He stared at his hands, rubbing them together between his knees. And then he let out a long sigh and looked up toward the ceiling. He laughed just a little, but I could tell it was a troubled or nervous laugh not really about anything funny.

Reggie started, "Man, I'm just lonely. I could tell you a lot of things that I've thought about lately. Or things that I've done or said but all of them come back to just being lonely. It's not an emergency. I just was feeling the bone-crunching hollowness of being lonely at my place tonight and I wanted to talk. To you."

I like the way you tell me about your life. I like how you ask about me and you listen to me. Night after night I've come over here and you are interested in me and that's cool. No, it's more than cool. It's like close, you know, like friends or more than that. I don't know. It's nice. I like you, Thom with an h."

And he laughed and so did I.

I could see when he looked straight at me that he had tears in his eyes. He rolled his shoulders.

"The happiest experiences I've had lately have been on your sofa while we've talked, and you've rubbed my head. I like my school and I'm doing well there. I've got buddies in some classes but just head-nodding kind of thing.

I like my new position in the theater company and the stage director and owner seem to like my work and they're friendly. I've got other jobs and I pay my bills and all of that. But you're the only person that I talk real with. I open up with you. And you touch me, and it's not weird. I, actually, really like it."

I continued to listen, purposely not talking, sitting still and just relaxing into the sofa.

I thought to myself, "I like it, too."

Reggie went on, "I know you're older than me. I know you're a white dude and I'm black. But I've never had a friendship with a guy or a girl that's anything like what we are doing. Or, what are we doing?"

I laughed. And he laughed as well, putting his hand on my knee. Then after slightly squeezing my knee, he moved his hand to rub his face with both hands.

Looking at the floor, Reggie said, "I am confused sometimes, I think. Or I'm not and then I wonder if I'm weird.

And I'm sure I am weird about some things, but I don't know, man. I don't feel gay or think about men when I jerk off. But I like being around you and I want to stay connected to you."

The room fell silent and I let it stay that way for a while.

Then I said to Reggie, "At first, I crushed on you because your very attractive physically. Then as I got to know you over the last several weeks I've come to appreciate you and care about you as a person, as a unique and wonderful person in my life."

It's unusual for men to be together unless they are working together, or in the military, or doing something physical like sports or hunting. Many men are uncomfortable being together alone with other men. There has to be a goal or a game or some project. But being tender and touching each other doesn't really happen without it being seen as something to be made fun of or alarmed about."

Reggie was nodding his head and still staring at the floor.

He said, "So what do we do?"

I smiled, "It's okay for us to be friends. To be together as much as we want. And to be as intimate with each other as we both feel comfortable."

Reggie was looking down at the floor and he smiled. Then he leaned his head toward me like he had that first night. I started to reach out to his beautiful hair. But instead of holding his head out like before, this time he kept moving toward me. His head settled into my lap, his shoulder against my outside of my thigh.

I propped my feet on the ottoman, slowly stroking his hair and rubbing his head. I watched his body, long and lean, as he stretched out and curled his legs into the confines of the sofa.

This arrangement of our bodies seemed brand new and so comfortable, like we had been doing it for months or years. Soon it seemed that he was asleep. I let my head fall back, continuing to play with his hair and occasionally gently rub his neck and shoulders.

I woke up about 6:30 am and Reggie was sound asleep, his head still in my lap.

As I stirred around, he looked up and smiled, sitting up on the sofa. I said, "I don't have anything until noon," and asked, "When do you need to be at school or work?"

Reggie answered, "Not until this afternoon. I have to be at the store by 3 pm."

I suggested breakfast.

Reggie stood up and said, "No, come here."

I walked into most delicious hug as his arms went completely around me and held me close. I wrapped my arms around him.

"Thank you," he said. "Thanks for being with me in my weird moment last night. Now I want to do something for you. With you."

He took my hand in his and, with him leading, we walked back to my bedroom.

The bed was still unmade from the late-night disturbance. He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped his jeans, crawling into my bed wearing only his boxers and a sheepish smile.

"Come on, jump in, Reggie said, "We're not fucking, but let's cuddle and get some more sleep. And I'm comfortable to be as close to you as you want."

"And honestly, touch me anywhere. I'm ok with it. At least, I think I am."

I pulled my t-shirt over my head and started to unfasten my pants.

I asked, "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes," Reggie said, "What you do when you rub my head is magic and I'm not afraid that you're going to hurt me or force me to do something I don't want. Besides, I'm taller than you and I outweigh you by at least 20 pounds."

He smiled. I dropped my pants and curled into my bed beside him and it was warm and, well, it was loving.

I turned to face him, placing my hands on his shoulders and we lay facing each other, not yet touching. I could see his eyes were almost closed and he still had the residue of a smile on his face.

I kissed him on his forehead, as I slowly rubbed his shoulders and began to touch his chest. His skin was so soft. He lay still.

I kissed his nose and rubbed the stubbly hairs that slightly matted his upper chest. I slowed my hand and rested them on his pecs and settled into the space under his right arm, which he wrapped around me, with my head on his shoulder. And he rolled onto his back and I snuggled into him.

I could smell him. Not odor, but a little sweat; more man than boy but still a hint of that smell boys have when they've run or played a lot.

My alarm went off at 9 am and we lay there for a while. He sat up and pulled the blanket and sheet off of us.

Except for my white briefs, I was naked in front of him. I was embarrassed about the bit of fat around my waist and the lack of definition in my arms and chest. It was clear that he had sexy definition and almost no fat on him. He didn't seem to care what I looked like.

He dipped his head and rubbed his hair against my chest, slowly, sensuously, and into my face. All over my face and then back down my body slowly.

I sighed, "Oh my, oh my, oh yes!"

He did this like we had done this forever, but my body was exploding in emotions and sensations.

It was like being teased all over and a feeling of a tiny electric current coming out of his hair as it bristled and tapped at the skin of my stomach and then my thighs and down my legs.

"Roll over," he said, sitting now at my feet. I could see that his blue boxers were full but he didn't seem to be erect. I was hard as a rock.

I rolled over, face into the mattress. He moved his head slowly back up my legs, teasing my pale skin with his big black crown of fuzzy wonderful hair, skipping my underwear, and teased across my back up to my hair.

He leaned over me, sitting on my ass now, his chest against my back, and he breathed into the skin of my left shoulder and neck, mashing his face into my neck.

I couldn't tell if he was kissing me or just putting his face so close to my ear. I felt his breath on my neck and in my ear. Then I exploded, experiencing an involuntary orgasm in my underwear. I had been humping the bed slowly and the sensation had built up and built up and I couldn't control it.

I exhaled loudly and groaned. I pressed my groin into the bed.

"Did you just, um, you know?", he asked.

I was catching my breath and began laughing. I looked up at him, nodding.

He laughed also, with his hands on my back, pushing himself up.

He said, "Oh my god, I made you come in your underwear. I love it. Wow."

And he fell back into bed by me, still laughing, and pulled the sheet and blanket up over him, backing up to me, getting close. I lay there, face down still, recovering, and listening to his breath as he fell asleep.

I got up and showered. I had a noon meeting. And I was trying really hard to not force this whatever-this-was into a category.

I had a lot of questions and I was worried about what we might be setting up or who might get hurt. But I had just had one of the best nights of my life. For now, I was just going to let it be. Time will tell.