A gay story: Dream
I stayed in the closet until I was 27. I regularly fucked my girlfriend in college, all while hunting for cock in restrooms. Got my cock sucked and my ass rimmed occasionally; usually we ended up just jacking off looking at each other through the glory hole. Ate out a few other women who seemed to really appreciate it. Mostly celibate between 27 and 32 (taking care of my mother during her final illness for part of that time). Grew my beard at 31. Haven’t trimmed it in 15 years.
I was a swimmer in high school and got a nice broad chest and shoulders out of it. Once I started college, I realized that enjoyed seeing other men in barely-there swim suits and then watching them shower. I’ve done fitness things off and on since, and always enjoyed the locker room experience; men of all ages, shapes, and sizes. Some spectacularly hairy men, some spectacularly hung men, sometimes both, but plenty of material for my overheated imagination and even a few stories.
I finally came out after falling in love with a close friend. He was very hairy (and still is, unless his wife makes him shave his body), and had a gorgeous chestnut-brown beard: full, not long, but intoxicating. I never saw him naked, but I did see a healthy morning bulge in his boxers once when we took a road trip and spent the night at his sister’s house. I used to fantasize about being in bed with him, holding each other close, kissing passionately, and making love; his cock gliding in and out of my ass, and his ass gratefully accommodating mine. There’s nothing like a lovesick freshly-out gay man pining over someone he sees daily but who is completely unavailable other than a twinkle in his blue eyes.
I finally professed my love for him one day, and had my heart broken. But he was very nice about it, which was unusual for the 1980s. Years later I thanked him profusely for maintaining our friendship and not getting angry. He said that he just treated me the way he would want to be treated were our roles reversed. A couple of years later I attended his wedding; I’d known his wife as well, and adore her, and their two daughters. I’ve only gotten to see him a couple of times since, but we communicate from time to time. I still fantasize of being 26 and naked with him making love.
The Dream
Flash forward thirty-five years. The night before last, my friend came to me in a dream.
I open my front door, and, to my surprise, he is standing there. The years have been very kind to him: Older, grayer, but still with the sly smile and piercing blue eyes. He’s reconfigured his facial hair from a full beard to a closely trimmed goatee, but the rest of his face sparkles with stubble.
I immediately invite him into the house and guide him to the kitchen. We have coffee and chat about his wife, his daughters (one of whom is an out lesbian), and his career, as well as my partner, my retirement, and plans for the near future.
My nerves are getting the better of me as the conversation continues, my old lustful fantasies distracting me from what he is saying to me. At one point, I realize that my balls are hanging below my shorts in plain view. There I go, commando again! That just makes me more nervous, as it raises my internal sexual tension. However, he doesn’t seem to notice my balls or the tent that’s forming in my shorts, complete with wet spot.
Abruptly, we’re in my car driving somewhere to get lunch. As is my habit, I start apologizing for having put him in such a difficult position all those years ago. He just laughs it off as he always does. I’m overwhelmed by his kindness.
Traffic is terrible, so we pull over and get out to walk the rest of the way to the restaurant.
After a few minutes, he abruptly pulls me aside. With a hand on my shoulder, he says, “I’m ready.”
“Ready for what?” I ask.
“Our secret,” he replies, cryptically.
“What secret?” I ask, thoroughly confused.
“Well, your secret, I guess,” he says.
I look into his beautiful blue eyes, and I realize that he’s ready to take our friendship to another level.
We are about to kiss when I wake up.