"Sorry. I didn't mean to sleep so long."
"S'okay. You were having a pretty good dream, so I got up and started breakfast. Didn't want to wake you. Was it a good one?"
"You ought to know: you were the star!" Mike replied.
"Not so fast. Today's your day, yu'know. Happy Birthday, guy."
Mike's jaw dropped. "How the hell did you know anyway?"
"We have ways," he chuckled. "Reach under the bed"
Mike's beefy right arm flopped over the edge of the bed and stopped when his hand hit cardboard, a big goddam box, he thought, as he searched for the leverage to pull it out. Both hands, he thought. He slid the box out onto the carpet and found it wrapped in brown butcher paper. "Plain brown wrapper, huh? Is this X-rated?"
"You bet, guy. Open it up. I can't stand the suspense, anyway, even if you can."
Mike slipped quickly out of bed and into a pair of shorts. He fumbled with the wrapping, only to find a large plain white box. Shit, no markings to give him a clue. And the box had a complicated flap that refused to let go easily. Then, finally, the end popped open and out slipped The Birthday Present of All Time: Mike immediately recognized what Gary had done. Their eyes met; his head shook. "Noway, man! This is too much!" There on the bed lay what Mike had wanted for years, but so many other "necessities" had got in the way: there was his own all-black Viking military drysuit, attached hood, dry gloves, relief zipper, the whole fucking works. "You tired of lending me your suits?" Gary laughed.
"It's been here for two weeks and it was all I could do to keep from blurting it out...especially last night. So, you like it?"
Before Gary got to the question mark at the end of that sentence, Mike was out of his shorts and had one leg into the suit. Gary's question was being answered. "Not so fast," he interrupted. "Why don't you put this on first?" Mike looked up and saw Gary dangling a black rubber cock-and-ball sheath from his index finger. Mike knew where this was going...or, at least, he hoped so. Gary helped him into the suit, sealed the shoulder zip and helped smooth out the latex hood. Then into the dry gloves. "Let's add the finishing touches," as he grabbed a pair of JetFins. Mike stood, then squatted and bled the trapped air through the exhaust valve, then stood again and admired himself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. He liked what he saw and so, apparently, did Gary.
Gary's hand was inside his robe beginning to work his own cock. Mike's was already hard from the sheath, so Gary opened the relief zipper and let that Big One out for the fun he had in mind. "Aren't you going to suit up, too?" Mike asked.
"Nope. This one's just for you. Here, strap this on." He handed Mike the black EXO-26 on the twenty-foot umbilical.
Fully suited and sucking air from the EXO, Mike was on the edge of ecstasy...or as close as he'd been in a long time. He resisted touching himself as long as possible. Seeing himself in the mirror was a turn on but, funny thing, it was watching Gary's reaction that got his motor running. Gary let the bath robe slip from his shoulders. He continued to lean against the bedroom door frame and began massaging his frogman fuckstick...slowly, rhythmically, in time with the sucking sound of Mike's breathing from the scuba tank. He walked toward Mike, began feeling Mike's shoulders, ran his hands down Mike's arms, slid his hands around Mike's back, pulled the Frogman toward him. Mike reach to where their two dicks met, one in black rubber, the other stiff manmeat with bulging blood vessels. Mike's drysuit glove grabbed them both and massaged them together. Their eyes met just the way Mike did when they were underwater together.
Then Gary surprised Mike with a Birthday Present he'd never expected. Gary slowly knelt down in from of Mike, teased the swollen head of Mike's rubber-clad fuckstick with his tongue, took the head into his warm mouth, then slowly took the length of it into his mouth and throat. For a moment or two, Mike forgot to breathe, then he remembered and took a long deep breath. Gary took all the time in the world. They were in no hurry. Soon Mike's breathing and was synchronized with the thrusts of his hips. His cock pulsed with cum until he couldn't control it any more. It pumped into the sheath, so much, he thought, that he wondered why it didn't ooze up to his balls and out of it altogether. When the convulsions subsided, Gary worked his own cock to a frenzy. Muffled by the bandmask, Mike shouted "Give it to me, man! Shoot that fuckin' load on your Frogman, stud! I want it!" as Gary's cum shot on Mike's drysuited leg and dribbled across the giant JetFins.
Slowly Gary stood and faced his friend. His hands loosened the bandmask straps and broke the seal against Mike's face. Slipping the mask up and off Mike's face, tossing the mask onto the bed, Gary leaned forward and tongued Mike's lips, which parted and welcomed Gary's probe into his mouth. They kissed very long and very deep and when their lips parted, Gary said the words that Mike had wanted to hear: "I love you, man"
There had never been a birthday like this one, he thought, a might never be again.
It's hard to say when exactly they committed themselves to one another...but it was clear to anyone who knew them that this was forever.
Some months ahead, though, an interesting kink would be added: The Intruder.
While I'm working on this and future installments, you can return to Part One of the story The Meeting, Part Two of the story The Dive, Part Three of the story The Date, or go back to the Mr.DiverBear Dream Date page or even farther back to
The Frogman's homepage. And thanks to Dan for writing to tell me that he enjoyed Part One.