Two Warrior Night

Eddie stood at an impressive 5 feet 11 inches, his jet-black hair cropped just right--short enough to comb, yet long enough to run your fingers through and feel its silky texture, something that I was able to manage from time to time when we were horse playing around.

Those piercing brown eyes of his could lock onto you, daring you to look away while promising something wild beneath the surface.

His body was a masterpiece of sweat and steely muscle, sculpted from countless hours at the gym, every curve of his biceps and pecs flexing with raw, untamed power. That flat stomach, etched with a chiseled six-pack, begged to be traced, each ridge a testament to his discipline and primal strength.

I had, on occasion, been lucky enough to grasp that muscle-bound torso while we were playfully wrestling around. Eddie and I both loved to wrestle.

He was hunky in that rough-around-the-edges way--swarthy skin glowing with a look that screamed of adventure, like he'd just stepped out of some gritty, pulse-pounding guy magazine or something.

His street-punk vibe clung to him like a second skin: a little dangerous, a little reckless, with an air of mystery that made you wonder what secrets he hid behind that cocky grin. And oh, that mouth--he could trash-talk like a pro, his words sharp and filthy, dripping with a confidence that hit you low and deep, stirring every sexy feeling you didn't even know you had.

He swore he was straight, tossing it out there like a challenge, but then there was the way he'd touch me--casual, sure, but deliberate. A hand brushing my shoulder, fingers lingering a little too long, (But not long enough for me) or a playful shove that felt more like a pull. That touchy-feeler edge of his, paired well with his rugged charm. It was electric--a slow burn that could set any gay or bi guy ablaze, leaving you craving the heat of his next move.

That's who Eddie Was.

And me?

I'm a guy who's been described as quietly captivating, standing at 5'11" with a body I've shaped through dedication--not over-the-top, but with just enough muscle to catch your eye and spark your curiosity.

My sandy brown hair, cut into a sharp flat-top, gives off a classic vibe, while my clear, clean skin has an everyday glow that's hard to miss. Catch me with a glance, and you'll see an engaging smile that promises warmth, mischief, and maybe a little mystery--I'm secretive, you see, and that's part of what draws you in.

I'm not your typical heartthrob like my buddy Eddie, but there's something about me that sticks with you.

I'm sensitive yet adventurous, carrying a spark that pulls you closer, a quiet confidence built on compliments I've earned from those who've noticed me. Deep down, I've got this playful, yearning edge--I'm craving a connection that's fun, innocent, and maybe a little bold, especially with someone like Eddie. If you're into a guy who's real, intriguing, and ready to explore, I'm the one you'd want to peel back, layer by layer.

That's who I am and that is who Eddie generously gave his title of "Best Friend."

Eddie and I went out bar-hopping together. We went hunting and fishing together. We spent countless hours just sitting and talking about all kinds of things. Sometimes, we would strip off our shirts, go to my big empty room on the second floor of my house and wrestle. We both loved wrestling.

While wrestling, we would often play "Grab Ass." "Grab Ass" was a wrestling match where both of us would try to get into a position where we could gently grab or rub our hand against each other's crotch.

Eddie was just too damned good at crossing his legs and protecting himself so I could rarely, if ever, get my hands onto that area of his really tight blue jeans. It was frustrating. I had to figure some way to up the game while, at the same time, not being too obvious about what I was up to and getting his approval.

As it turns out, getting his approval was not as hard as I thought it was going to be. Let me explain.

One night, Eddie and I were drinking at the old Pleasure Mill Inn, a local bar and saloon. We often visited this place. Eddie liked to talk about looking for girls. I could care less about girls. I was there because Eddie was my best friend and I hoped that I was his. Eddie was 27 years old at the time of this story and I was 30.

Usually we would get pretty soused before going home. Tonight, we were well on our way. We had already had several drinks and been fondled by the waitress, hoping to get us to drink even more.

"Eddie, I said," I am thinking that we should do something like we have never done before. Something wild and woolly, something a little crazy but a helluva lot of fun."

Eddie took a draw off his cigarette, a sip from his drink and replied, "I know you pretty well, John. If you have cooked something up I am sure it is going to be wild and crazy. What have you got on your mind?"

Sensing an opening, I began. "I have been reading some old comic books I found about tribes of warriors who used to hunt and dance and fight with enemies. I thought we might go to my place and play some games designed on the way those warriors looked and acted. We would even have little pretend wars, tussling hand-to-hand just like they did."

"Well, so far I am with you, so what next?" Eddie said.

"Let's go on over to my place and I will explain the whole thing," I answered, a certain warmth developing in my belly and slowly creeping up my spine.

So we got to my house and went upstairs to my big upper room. The room was pretty bare saving for a couple of mattresses that I had put down on the floor, a table, a chair, and some pictures of half-naked, loincloth-clad tribal warriors on one of the walls.

"That is what I am talking about." I said as I directed his attention to the posters on the wall. "We should dress up just like those guys in the pictures and do a little wrestling on these mattresses here. We could pretend we are members of enemy tribes, fighting each other.

"You mean you want to dress up like those warriors, all naked-assed and everything?" Eddie responded with surprise in his voice.

"Yeah," I said, "Why the hell not?"

Eddie seemed to think for a minute before replying, "Yeah, for sure! Why the hell not! I'm in!"

It suddenly dawned on me that Eddie might not have been as straight as he claimed to be. That was a very welcome thought. Very welcoming indeed!

The floodgates of expectation and the thrills of imagination descended on me like a hurricane of expectant pleasure. I cool feel a certain stiffening going on in my underwear. It was to be expected, I guess.

"I am going to assume that you have already got the warrior clothes for the game. Am I right?" Eddie remarked glancing again at the posters on the wall.

"Yep," I answered, "Everything we need is right in these boxes here."

"I gotta say though," Eddie continued, "All this is beginning to sound a little gay to me."

"Is that a problem?" I hesitantly asked.

"Well, I hate to admit it, but maybe it doesn't sound as gay as I might have thought it might be, "Eddie fidgeted, let's just do this thing and see how it turns out!"

In the next moment, Eddie and I were busy shedding our regular clothes and placing them neatly in a pile in the corner of the room.

First, off came the shirts. Then the blue jeans. We were soon standing there in nothing but our white underwear briefs. I could see by the bulge in Eddie's shorts that he had apparently abandoned any fear of our plan to be gay or anything like that.

He didn't even seem to be embarrassed.

"Just good old-fashioned American fun!" He teased. He had already tied the deerskin loincloth belt around his waist and was fumbling with the front flap of the loincloth costume. There was a flap of deerskin for the front of the warrior and another for the back. It was not one of those sissy-assed single strand loincloths you sometimes see in movies.

"Here, let me help you with that!" I offered as I held out my hand to take the piece of skin out of his hand. He handed it to me saying, "Sure thing, help me get dressed in this shit."

I carefully drew the 12-inch-wide by 30-inch long fringed piece of deerskin and pulled it over his belt and adjusted the length of it so that it hung just about 4 inches above his knees. Then I draped the other "Flap" over his belt so that it hung an equal distance, covering his ass.

I put on my own stuff in like manner as his and then said, "Alright, Eddie, let's ditch the underwear now."

That went off without a hitch. I thought that Eddie might be reluctant or hesitant but he surprised me and just went along and did it like it was nothing at all.

Now we were both totally naked-assed except for the loincloth flaps covering our front and our back. I gotta say it felt good!

"How do you like it so far?" I asked Eddie.

"Wow!" he exclaimed, doing a little pretended war dance, "I think playing warriors is fun!"

I thought to myself, "Yeah, it is and it's gonna get a lot more fun too." Both of us had boners now that tented out the front of our costumes. The wildness was progressing well. Eddie seemed to be at ease with the whole idea.

"Let's give our pretend tribes names!" Eddie suggested.

"Alright, I answered, what shall we call ourselves?

"Eddie suggested, "How about Ah-rah-ners and Assers?" He looked expectantly at me.

"Why "Assers" I asked.

Eddie explained, "Because when we move around in these loincloth flaps, the flaps move with our action and show our asses temporarily.

"Why "Ah-ha-rahners"? I asked.

"I dunno," he answered, "It just sounded like something a tribe would be named. It was settled. We had tribal designations. Each tribe would be traditional enemies of the other and that would be our excuse to enter into safely choreographed mock hand to hand battles to a certain illusion of defeat. The whole scenario was beginning to gel -- to come together.

"So how does this thing work from this point on?" Eddie queried. "How do we go about enacting the pretended hand to hand combat part?"

"How about this?" I started explaining a scene: How about we wrestle each other until one of us pins the other down to those mattresses on the floor? The warrior that gets pinned loses the battle and the one that wins has to claim the spoils with a few minutes of prolonged gentle touch below the belt.

Eddie, who had been a little reluctant at first, was warming up to the war game idea and he said, "Oh why the hell not? There's nobody here but us and it ain't gonna hurt anything. Just one thing though, If you tell anybody about this, I will kick your ass."

"Not gonna tell a soul," I promised.

"Well then, Asser dog, come and get what is coming to you!" Eddie exclaimed as he crouched getting ready to attack. "We will see who claims the spoils on who!" He added with a chuckle.

"O. K., you Ah-rah-ner asshole, give it your best shot!" I chided.

We rushed toward each other and collided, chest to chest, skin to skin. We grabbed each other by the wrists and struggled, digging our heels in, pushing and pulling, trying to trip each other and cause our pretend enemy to fall to the soft mattresses.

The bodily contact caused both of us notice that we now sported full hard erections. It was almost a supernatural feeling but totally divine.

We wrestled. We rolled together on the floor, over and over, rolling first atop one another and then underneath each other. The loincloths flapping and flying in every direction, showing every inch of everything that was to be seen. The atmosphere was changing rapidly into something intoxicating with pleasure.

With little warning, I managed to pin Eddie to the mattress with the weight of my own body. He struggled to rise but finally gave a big sigh and said, "Alright fucker, you got me! Now go ahead and mark me."

"O. K., Ed," I said, "Just lay still for awhile. I will do the rest.

His legs were splayed. The front flap of his costume had slid off his naked dick. I gently took hold of him and softly squeezed. He moaned a sort of silent grunt of agreement.

For a few minutes, I slowly and very gently stroked him, occasionally shifting my attention to his balls. I found myself entranced by the sight of his nuts dancing against the crack of his ass.

"Be careful" he said, "If you keep that up you are going to jack me off."

"Well," I thought to myself, I sure don't wanna do that just yet, we have several more scenes to act out before we do anything like that."

In a few minutes, Eddie was up and at it again and we were playing our second combat scene of the evening. This time, by mutual agreement, it was going to be my turn to take the fall and get the goodies. And that is how it all worked. First him and then me and then him again and me again for several fight scenes until the one called "The Final Take Down."

In the final take down, he warriors shared taking the spoils' with a series of slow and deliberate teasing touches. After the final take down, they lay together, side by side, almost spent from the thrill of it all, basking in the glow of what they'd shared. In that last scene, they lingered there, hands roaming freely, stoking the heat between them until release came like a quiet storm."

And so, the first meeting of the warrior club came to an end. But it was not the end of the war play. Eddie and I kept that alive for years to come. In the interim, we also attracted at least a dozen other willing warriors and finally had a real tribe of our own. (Or two tribes according to how you see things because there were, after all, two different tribal names.

The years have passed now. The whole warrior scene is but a distant cherished memory but it lives on in my thoughts and dreams. I never knew whatever happened to Eddie or any of the others who shared our vision and who helped to bring it all alive for a few precious moments on summer days so long ago.

And memories are wonderful things.

Trust me.