Why I Say Thank You

Published on Feb 8, 2002

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Do not distribute or reproduce this document, all or in part, without express permission of the author. (c) February 8th, 2002, Anfernee Williamson.


WHY I SAY THANK YOU

Obsession.

One word alone failed to explain it. Even give the slightest idea of the true depth of emotion and dedication.

The single minded, and almost blind pursuit.

Even a lifetime of words may have failed to portray that would consumed day by day. One thing. One goal and no other. When one would consume their whole day in that one thing. Spend every day in concentration on it alone. Their every night, no doubt, dreaming about it. To wake the next, consumed anew. The fire of passion a brighter fire than any. Even stronger, hotter than the sun that rose with that new day of obsession.

Juan sure loved basketball. Enough that it would take his every waking moment in its practice and honing of skill. Cesar always wondered if finding the words to describe that obsession would make it any easier to describe the depth of his.

Juan's smooth, thick ass.

The youth sat against the wall that he had spent the last three hours bombing. In the blazing heat of the dying afternoon. His mind still consumed with the thoughts, as he saw his close friend continue to shoot baskets. In this heat? Cesar still couldnt shake the raw heat and aerosol that boiled in his lungs. After spending so long already just working on a graffiti piece, Cesar found it hard to fathom how Juan could do something far more athletic.

But then, Cesar would never complain. Not when he knew what it meant. Both to Juan's obsession, and his own.

The youth stood up finally. Stretched. His senses still swimming in the sounds and sights of the day. His thick smell of the paint of his work still strong in his nose. The heavy, popping beat of the music that had kept them both company through out the day playing second base to the stranger rhythm of Juan's basketball hitting the concrete. Music of both making and activity, playing under the sounds of natural tongue. Punctuated by a string of occasional trumpets, almost as bright and brassy in their sounds as the heat of the day.

Even out in this heat, Cesar wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else. Heat that caressed and licked at Juan's wet body. His own. As he stretched his lanky limbs, his eyes played the same caress over the older boys body. Where his oversized black basketball uniform hung loose from brown, muscular limbs. The light of the sun caught the shine of sweat on his body below.

Juan paused, stepped. Shot.

Of course it sunk.

Flawlessly.

Flawless in skill. His skill a lot like other parts of him, Cesar always thought. His own quiet obsession not as obvious as Juan's continuous striving for perfection with the ball. But an obsession none the less that was just as powerful in passion and pursuit.

Cesar's eyes lingered down about Juan's ass again.

Their obsessions played twin perfectly. Juan's sole concentration basketball only further aided Cesar's own passion for his friends ass. Not in an amorous or lustful way. More like Juan's own wants. The concentration of one thing over all others. To Cesar, looking at Juan's ass in those baggy shorts was as much a thing that he needed to live, as Juan needed to play basketball. It was not a matter of want, as it was a total part of his life.

Yet he never questioned that one fact. As he was sure Juan never questioned his own.

Cesar leaned against the wall as he continued to watch Juan move. In a city the size of Bradford, it was hard to find a place like this. So truly alone. Bereft of humanity, other than signs of its once past presence. Atop the distant hills, that overlooked the massive sprawl. A broken reminder of what once was. Twisted, half demolished buildings. This one in particular that Juan and Cesar often visited. Where Juan had cleared as best he could the mess of the past, set up a makeshift hoop. Fallen brick mingled with empty cans of spray paint. As much testimony to Cesar's past creations of paint as the artwork themselves. Sharp, angular words of undiscernible text to those who didnt know. Painting dead greys in harsh new urban color.

The one place in the city where Cesar most wanted to be with Juan. Alone.

Juan shot another basket. Completing an easy, long shot. Cesar's eyes still travelled wistfully, lethargically over the smooth curves in those shorts. A dreamy high only aided by the heat of the day, the smell of the aerosol. The youth older than him by a few years. Shorter. Far more muscular. Athleticism born of days of practice. Repetitive motion and work. Fueled by passion of obsession. One that hardened his body.

Every part. Especially that part.

His baggy uniform danced about his body as he moved. Shifted again in a sharp motion, yet still fluid in its truest way. Cesar's eyes continued the caress that the suns heat had started long ago. Truly there was nothing more captivating about a mans body than that one place alone. And to have that perfection in ones best friend. A friend whose own goals had him working out in shorts like that, almost every waking moment. How could they be a better pair? Juan's step and poise seemed like Cesar's whole world at that moment, focussed on that one part of him.

So smooth and thick. Filling out even the bagginess of his shorts.

Cesar glanced about for his drink. The raw burn of his passion and stare almost as hard as that which was taking his throat. The beat of the track had long since changed. He had barely noticed. Cesar took up his drink bottle from his pack, putting aside a number of the cans he'd left there. The cool water did little to sooth his throat, either of the heat, or the aerosol. He'd barely noticed that either. He sat down again, his black and white gang colors tied about his head still moping up the same sea of sweat that had gathered under his tight white wifebeater and baggy jeans. He swum in that moisture. Moisture that only made his close friend look more intense.

Reminded Cesar of the implications of what that mean to his one total fascination. The thought alone made him throb.

The twin to the beat of the music stopped, leaving only the hard bass pound of the CD player. Cesar glanced back at Juan, seeing him standing, staring past him. His hands on his hips as he heaved his breaths. Cesar silently lamented his position, yet still thanked for his presence. Sweat still rolled off his toned shoulders. Made his young face wet with that which caught the gleam of light. His light eyes moved, swept. Took in as Cesar's own dark eyes did in those quiet times of almost worshipful admiration.

"You done some good work there, ese."

'Not nearly as good as the work you been doing the last few hours ...' the youth thought.

Cesar merely replied with a brief nod. His usual way. Those dark eyes that hung beneath his black bandanna speaking as much as they read of the world about him. He watched as Juan continued to look over his graffiti.

If only he could portray in those colors and shapes the obsession that he failed to put into words. If only he could express in those smooth curves and sweeps the same things that he saw in Juan. Day after day. That true want, that controlled him with the same blazing passion that basketball controlled Juan. Cesar tried every time he stood up to the wall. He knew that he would fail every time.

Cesar passed up the bottle of water to his friend. Juan nodded, thanked him, before drinking heavily. Taking deep gulps of the water. Cooling him of the sweat and heat of the day. Cesar feared that. It was here. Now. Times like this. Right at this moment that his interest was at its peak.

He could feel his cock rising with each beat of the music. Each beat of his heart. As steady and inevitable as both.

Cesar knew that Juan thought the same thoughts of basketball. How could life be any better? For him, those sentiments were just as powerful. Even if the words were different. How could life be any better than the smooth, full curves of another mans ass? And right here? Right now? How could it be any better than after so many hours of basketball. Sweaty. Tight. The mere thoughts as intoxicating as the heat and spray paint.

Cesar glanced down at the ground again. As taken in mind by his thoughts as his body was with sweat. He shook ever so slightly. Took his breaths deeper, a more accurate match to Juan's own exerted pants. His eyes flickered lightly with his friends as he heard him finish drinking. His dark meeting with Juan's light eyes for the briefest of moments.

Juan had known long ago.

The shorter youth smiled lightly, putting the bottle back down by Cesar's pack. Cesar smelt the thick assault to his senses of Juan's raw sweat. The heat that came off his body almost rivaled that which beat from above. That he felt under the sun, and beat within his own hot center. The smell came heavy to his nose, like a nights worth of drink. The scent itself almost a tease, as Juan stood back up. His brown features still lit with that lightest of smiles.

A knowing smile.

Cesar's eyes lowered again, this time not nearly as low as they have just before. Down to that level which was inevitable. He still shook with the past closeness, the pent, silent passion of a day. One that Juan had spent in equal passion doing the one thing that only fueled Cesar's own. The youth watched as Juan walked lazily across the remains of the building- cum-basketball court. Watched on that one place alone, at least.

Alone. Here. Together. Where else in the world would Cesar want to be right now?

His mind quickly supplied the answer as his piqued interests rose further. An obvious and intentional show. Played over lightly by the pretext of an easy afternoon stroll. Juan stared down over the vastness of Bradford below. As Cesar stared at the one thing that he knew Juan had just encouraged. Cesar watched darkly, silently. As the beat of the music pounded with his heart in his ears, within his groin. Sharing the heat of the day with the heat of passion that burned there also.

The black material of his basketball shorts and jersey contrasted perfectly with his brown skin. Clinging to wet skin still. His shorts falling down over the thick firmness of his ass. The rest of his shorts there seemed to fall from those two mounds, tight and prominent. Perhaps hidden by the mesh of the material, but hinted at and implied by context and the smooth stroke of that same material. Cesar's jaw was slightly lower, unknowingly, breathing in the raw heat. His eyes drunk in the strongest beverage of them all.

For one taste of that strong flavor.

Cesar continued to stare, as Juan looked out over the city below. Cesar had always felt as small and insignificant as just even the merest of those buildings below. But when he stared and took in every slow motion of his close friends ass, he felt as if nothing else truly mattered. Right there was all he wanted to see. All he ever wanted to touch and experience. Where Juan's whole life was in the pursuit and perfection of basketball, to master every step and motion, Cesar wanted nothing more to explore and experience every smooth curve and motion of that right there. To be with it as much as the every passing moment that Juan spent with his own obsession.

To think of it not being there was almost unspeakable. As hard to describe as the passion itself.

"Pretty good view from up here, ese," Juan called back. He still looked out over the city. Cesar had only just realized again the passage of time, the changing of tracks on the CD. "Bet you always saw that though, huh?"

Cesar replied with his usual silence. Still watching. Waiting. Worshipping in his own quiet way. He'd learnt to take things in life this way. His own distant ways.

"Too damn busy playing basketball to notice much else, I think," he continued to muse aloud. Juan's voice danced in Cesar's ears with a familiarity matched only by his own voice. His eyes took in that which matched it in familiarity of physical presence.

"Why don't you come up and get a better look?"

Cesar glanced up, noticing that Juan was looking back at him. Smiling in that smooth, knowing way. As silence as Cesar always was, matching the older boy like his own shadow, Juan knew his every thought. A close trust known, not always expressed in words. Cesar suddenly wondered what he had been talking about. He thought quickly, taking in the implications of the question. The possible, more accurate ones, given that he had been looking at the city as long as he had been looking at his ass.

Yet that smile spoke as much as Cesar's dark, wanting eyes.

"Can't see much from way back there."

Cesar stood up, with some effort. He could feel the sticky take that the sweat was having of his body, beneath his heavy, or tight clothes. He became aware suddenly of his erection. The way that it made what was always baggy bulge somewhat with what lay below. He felt the lump, almost painful, in his throat as he swallowed. He wanted another drink. But he wanted more to drink of something which would sate far deeper needs.

Cesar walked the few steps that took him to his friends side. Long, lanky strides. Far better suited in height to the game of basketball, than his far shorter friend. He stared down slightly at Juan as he stood there. His dark eyes under the bandanna that made him Loco for life. More practically, stanched the wetness of his forehead from falling to his eyes. Cesar saw Juan looking right up back at him. Still smiling.

How could one man -- no, one thing have so much power over him?

Cesar lowered his head lightly. Trying at least not to make obvious where his eyes eventually fell. Another few tight quick glances exchanged in the seconds that ensued. Wants, desires. Permissions. All silent, yet as real as if they had been spoken. Cesar wasted little more time as he went down to his knees. Feeling the hard concrete there as he moved about to that one place he so longed for. It was times like this what he knew what crack fiends felt like. He understood that hungry, all wanting look in their eyes that he saw every day.

Cesar put his shakey hands onto the firmness of Juan's ass. He breathed heavily. Felt the raw rush in his throat. His hands resting there. Two firm, full handfuls of ass. He could feel the softness of Juan's basketball shorts, the incredible hardness implied beneath. He could spend an eternity alone with his hands right there, if not for the strong smell of sweat that assaulted his nose again. Like a sweet song, beckoning him closer. Drawing him with the same strength as the hardness he felt beneath his palms.

Juan stood in silence, taking the place in voice that Cesar always occupied, as the younger youth left his hands talk volumes. Cesar left his grasp wander. Explore. Taking in anew those curves that he knew totally by heart. But moving with the same passion as if he was discovering them for the first time. Pulling Juan's shorts askew as his palms shifted across the thickness there. His hand lowering lightly to catch under one long, baggy leg of his shorts. Cesar let his hand move up the hot, tight muscle of Juan's thigh.

Onto the thick globe of his ass.

Cesar could hear his friends tight moan above. Feel the burning heat of his skin there. The light strap of his jock that played across the smooth skin. He could feel the moisture under his hand. Cesar wondered if he could feel that he was shaking still, slightly. His senses blind, his mind locked only in that one pursuit, the youth tugged at Juan's shorts. Feeling little resistance, either from the shorts, or his close friend, as they came down. They puddled about Juan's expensive shoes, revealing a sight that Cesar would call priceless.

The youth stared momentarily. The two full globes of Juan's tight ass. So smooth, hairless. A size perhaps only further pronounced by his relative shortness. The deep, promising cleft between his cheeks. Cesar batted lightly at Juan's jersey as it slipped down over the one place he longed to be one with. Frustrated by even the lightest, slight disruption. Barely noticing much more than it was gone suddenly, as Juan pulled it off. Dropped it aside. Cesar's eyes were already in love again. For the first time.

If anyone below could have seen him, a young basketballer all but naked in just a jock, they would have thought he would make a stunning model. Strong bodied. Flawlessly smooth brown skin. A face, seemingly untouched by the ghettos he grew up in. Still strong with the fire of his determinations. Cesar couldnt see past what was right in front of him. The one place he would die a thousand times alone to see just once. Thanking a thousand times more that he had the chance to see as often as he did.

Juan ran his hand again across the tightness of Juan's butt, feeling the wetness there almost. The presence of his jockstrap. Cesar felt the smell of the sweat and the heat running to his head quickly. He let his face fall lightly against the source of it, moaning in the sudden increase in both. Drunk on the moisture. The pungent smell of a number of hours hard basketball workout thick in his nose. Along with that unmistakable scent of ass. His shakey hands worked at the last obstruction to the full smoothness that he felt against his cheek. He barely noticed that Juan did most of the work, slipping the jock down to join his shorts.

Cesar turned his head. Feeling his nose press into the crack of Juan's ass. He breathed in the scent, like it was the air he needed to survive. Feeling the flush to his face that the heat there caused. Swum in the sweat that had collected, deep between the tight cheeks of Juan's butt. Cesar felt drunk, yet no more alive than right there. Right there in the full presence of his close friends ass. Breathing and feeling that which made Juan what he was.

Cesar's mouth was already opening, panting hot breaths against Juan. Raw want took him the little distance further to pry apart the tight cleft of Juan's cheeks, exposing the softness between. A soft, moist, puckering tightness. A prize held between the mountains of that which Cesar already considered the true winnings alone. Looking only for a moment, Cesar drove back between Juan's cheeks, taking his mouth to what he would rather taste and feel than see.

The youth panted tightly, trapped between keeping Juan spread, and wanting to release his own throbbing cock from his jeans. His tongue lapping and poking at that which was already soft and relaxed. The thick aroma of the afternoons sweat mingling with the natural tastes of Juan's ass. Cesar pushed deeper, maybe too quickly. Longing to experience his friend in ways that he could satisfy so seldom. Paying true homage to his one obsession, directly after Juan had paid homage to his own.

Cesar wouldn't have had it any other way. Right now. Right here. Like this. This was his truest obsession. He wanted nothing more than to taste, feel, breath another mans sweaty, tight ass. He wanted nothing more for it to be Juan's, as thankful alone that his friend let him, as for the passion itself.

Cesar began working his tongue into Juan's puckering ass hole. Hearing the older youth moaning strongly as he continued to rim him, eating out his sweaty, funky ass. Pushing his tongue further as the hot bursts of his aroused breath joined the heat of Juan's body there. Feeling his friend stepping hastily, uneasily out of his shorts and jock to spread himself as best he could. Cesar realized suddenly that Juan was already fisting his hard erection. Worked his own jeans clumsily as he continued to lick and suck at Juan's moist ass hole.

Releasing himself into the heat of the afternoon, Cesar began to stroke at his already intensely aroused dick. The act alone of experiencing Juan's ass like this was enough to sate, but it naturally caused passionate highs for him that he often neglected in favour for what he was now tasting. Drinking like a man who hadn't for days, Cesar as much himself without for nearer to weeks of this most sweetest treat.

Cesar kept probing at Juan's ass with his tongue, taking quick looks at those smooth globes. Thick and heavy about his face as he dove deeper between his friends cheeks. The tightness between them as strong as that within the big curves of his butt. Cesar tasted the sweat on his lips, thankful that he'd been able to do this so quickly after a workout. Tasting and smelling Juan at his best. Experiencing him at a level more intimate than any. As bared to the city below, to any who could possibly see, as his naked friend. Cesar right there behind him, eating deeply of his ass.

Cesar moved his hand up onto Juan's hip, trying to bury himself deeper in that tight, funky heat. Wishing that he could loosen Juan to the point his tongue could move more freely into his tight passage. As Juan trembled, moaned heavily about him. All but sitting against him as his tongue invaded as far as it could into his ass hole. Cesar felt the rawest of pleasures searing the length of his cock as he surged closer towards climax. Felt the tightness returning to Juan, felt it pulsing within his tight hole.

Cesar pulled Juan closer, harder. Tighter against his mouth as he felt himself boiling. Boiling in the heat of the day. In the thick smells of Juan's ass. The smooth, wet flesh of his most tender spot. Juan cussing tightly above him as Cesar felt the intensely of his stroke within his slight motions. His tightened muscles, no less than the tightening muscle of his anus. Cesar felt dizzy, overcome, his senses assaulted. The sudden rush that consumed his groin.

Gasping breathily into Juan's ass, Cesar felt the fluid release of his climax. Tasted the still, almost dripping fluid of Juan's sweat. Realizing from the deep moans that Juan too was cumming. Cesar dropped is own spasming cock to pry Juan open further. To seek deeper into his friends ass for that one moment. He felt Juan grow weak momentarily, falling back heavily against that wet stimulus that had bought him so fully to cumming. Cesar let him weigh heavily there, questing deeper with his tongue. Taking his deepest pleasure in return.

Moaning lightly, panting heavily, Juan eventually steadied himself. Cesar had to steady himself, suddenly, feeling the exhaustion and excitement of the act hitting his senses heavier than he had expected. He noticed he had cum thick sprays onto Juan's jock and shorts. Clean white against black, and white. The older youth was already pulling his clothes back up, still clumsy in his post orgasmic bliss as he redressed himself.

Cesar caught his breath. Saying quietly, that which would do little to express the depth. As did so many words fail to express the passion of his obsession.

"Gracias."

"No problem, ese."

Cesar pushed his cock back into his pants. Already so fully spent. Juan's hand was already out, Cesar taking it. Feeling the strength with which the shorter youth pulled him up. Steadied him. Juan still had that same slight, knowing smile. It was almost as if it was reserved for this one such situation. Portraying where mere words failed to express.

Cesar smiled back.

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