A gay story: A Bend in the Road This story is the expression of a fantasy that I’ve had for a long time. It is partly autobiographical, in that I took some incidents and events from my own life and used them. But I’ve never had an actual homosexual experience or been involved in a gay relationship. Therefore, the story is pure fantasy—my idealized version of what it might be like to have a gay lover. For those of you who are gay, the story might not ring true. For that, I apologize. Please know that I dealt with my fantasy and the subject matter as honestly as I could. I’m sure that this story probably resembles in some ways my other submissions to this site. That is fine with me. I like the way I write. In my writing, I experience the romance that I lack in my real life. In any case, I hope that you enjoy the story.
I would say that I’m a reasonably good-looking, forty-three year-old man. Brown eyes, salt and pepper hair, average weight, five feet eleven. I’m told that I have a good sense of humor. I can tell a joke. I’ve been fortunate to enjoy good health as well. I watch what I eat and I exercise. I own my own title abstracting business, and it involves standing around a lot in courthouses, so I make sure that I go to the gym from time to time.
My wife Margaret and I divorced about two years ago after being married for twenty-five years. We had raised two children, a son and a daughter, and when the youngest left home, we looked at each other and asked, “Who is this person?” There was nothing left of the marriage. We tried for a while to enjoy being together again, like when we first married, but there was nothing there. So we moved on. Margaret became involved with someone about eight months later. She was happy, although she had no plans to remarry. I, on the other hand, had dated a few women I wasn’t really interested in, then nothing.
The loneliness gets a little tough, sometimes.
I said that I’d been healthy. That was true until earlier this year, when I came down with pneumonia. Mycoplasma pneumonia, in fact. My doctor said it was “community acquired,” which means that I got it from somebody else. Hell, I could have told him that. Anyway, it put me in the hospital for five days while I got a course of antibiotics.
For the first two days, I felt terrible. All I wanted to do was sleep. I didn’t want food or anything to drink. I just wanted to lie in bed. On the third day, I felt better. I decided to ask my nurse if I could take a shower.
I was a little surprised when a young man entered my room that morning. He was carrying a clipboard, had on colorful scrubs, and was wearing a stethoscope around his neck.
“Good morning. Is it Richardson? Mr. Cliff Richardson?” I affirmed that it was. He took my wrist and looked at my hospital identification band. “My name is Tad Sorenson, and I’ll be your nurse today,” he said.
It was the first time I’d seen him. The first two days, my nurses had been females. Tad was young, maybe twenty-five or six, and fair-skinned, with light brown hair. He was slender, with blue eyes and small, even white teeth.
“Good morning, Tad.” I said. “Hey, would it be possible for me to take a shower today? I feel a bit scummy.”
“I don’t see why not, sir,” he replied. “We’ll just cover your IV site with some plastic wrap to keep it dry. But first, I need to do your assessment. Can you lean forward in the bed while I listen to your lungs?” He leaned over me, listening to my lungs with the stethoscope. I was suddenly more aware than ever of my funky odor.
“I’m sorry if I’m a bit ripe,” I said.
Tad was leaning over me, concentrating on my lung sounds, his stethoscope on my chest. I noticed that he had a very nice watch, an Omega in fact, and that his hands were small and nicely formed. He nails were clean and trimmed, and his fingers were long and slender. He wore a heavy gold class ring on his right ring finger. Tad did not smell funky. He smelled good. “Excuse me,” he said, taking the earpieces out. “I couldn’t hear what you said.”
“I said, I’m sorry if I smell bad,” I said.
“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Richardson. I’ve smelled much, much worse,” Tad said, taking my wrist and looking at his Omega while he counted my pulse. He wrote something on his clipboard and told me he’d see me later, then left the room.
A little later, they brought me a breakfast tray with the usual, bacon and eggs. I almost never ate bacon and eggs, but for the first time in several days, I was hungry. I ate everything on my plate, and the coffee and orange juice too. About that time, the patient care tech, a middle-aged black lady, came in and said she was going to “clean me up” and change my bed. I told her I wanted to take a shower and she rolled her eyes a little. “I spoke to Tad about it already,” I said. She put the bed linens down on the chair and left the room.
Five minutes later Tad came in the room and said, “Okay, let’s fix that IV so that you can shower.”
“I think I made the tech mad,” I said as Tad disconnected the line and flushed the site.
“Who? Mary? Don’t worry about her. She’s used to her patients not being able to even talk to her. You are a bit of an oddity around here, sir. A patient who can ask questions and make requests.” Tad said this while deftly applying plastic wrap around my IV site and taping it in place. “There,” he said, “that should keep it dry. Do you need any help getting to the shower?”
“No,” I said, getting up from the bed. But then I couldn’t reach around and get the damn gown untied.
“Let me help,” Tad said and I felt a gentle touch and a breeze of cool air as my gown was untied from the back. I stepped into the small bathroom and took off the gown. I handed it through the door to Tad. As I closed the door, I glanced at him. He was looking at me openly, even somewhat appraisingly. I was glad that I’d spent as much time at the gym as I had.
“Call if you need anything,” he said through the door. I told him I would, and turned on the water. The hot water felt really good. I shampooed and then started on my body. As I scrubbed off the dirt, my hand wandered to my penis, now semi-erect. I usually masturbated at least three times a week, but I hadn’t felt like it lately. Maybe tonight, I said to myself.
I put on clean underwear and Mary helped me into a clean hospital gown. For the first time in days, I felt human. I shaved and put on a little after shave lotion. I still coughed occasionally, but not nearly as much as when I came in.
Tad was in and out during the day. I was reading a book by Cormac McCarthy when he came in once. He remarked on it. “Oh, so you read McCarthy too. I’ve read a couple of his, but I don’t think I understand everything that’s in them.”
“I’ve read Child of God, All the Pretty Horses, and Blood Meridian,” I said. I enjoyed them, but I don’t understand them either. I’ve never been able to get what the critics mean when they say Blood Meridian is about ‘regeneration by violence.'”
“Still,” Tad said, “there is something compelling about them. They’re so simple on the surface, yet deep. You know?”
Tad’s shift ended at seven that evening, and I was sorry to see him go. He checked on me one last time at about six-thirty. “So, are you working tomorrow?” I asked.
“Sure am,” he said, giving me a smile.
“Will you be my nurse tomorrow as well?”
“Most likely,” he said. “We keep the same patients for several days. It’s called ‘continuity of care’ in healthcare talk.”
“Good. I’ll be looking forward to talking about McCarthy’s books with you. How about No Country for Old Men?” I asked.
“I’ve seen the movie, but I haven’t read the book. But it was a real downer as a movie.” Tad said.
“It’s the first movie I’ve ever seen by the Coen brothers that has absolutely no humor in it at all.” I said.
That night, as I lay in bed, I thought back to a couple of experiences I’d had when I was younger. For instance, when I was about twelve or thirteen, I had a friend named Robin. We used to camp out in his backyard in an old abandoned station wagon. We’d watch TV and smoke cigarettes. Another thing we did was get completely naked, and stand in the street in the middle of the night. We could see the headlights of approaching cars well before the cars themselves came into view. Robin and I would wait until the last second, then run back into his yard as the lights shone on us. We never got caught, but a few times, the cars paused at the top of the hill. Our late-night shenanigans later progressed to sexual experimentation. A couple of times, I put Robin’s cock into my mouth and he did the same to me. I’ll admit, however, that he didn’t seem to want to suck me as much as I did him. It was terribly exciting, but we never carried it past the experimentation stage. Another time, when I was in the Navy, I met a young man name Kerry. He was somewhat effeminate, with a soft North Carolina twang and slender hands. We became friends while I was in hospital corpsman school. When the time came to leave school and join the fleet, we rode home together on the same plane. I never saw him again, but I often thought of him afterward.
Both Robin and Kerry looked like Tad.
The thing is, I told myself, I love pussy. I mean really love it. I always loved getting close to my wife’s pussy, kissing it, licking it, eating it up. I loved fucking her as well. Other than those experiences when I was young, I’d never been attracted to men. At all. And now, here I was thinking about the past, and thinking about Tad. I caught myself wondering what he looked like naked.
The next day, I felt a bit better. My doctor came in, examined me and told me that I’d be able to go home the next day. When Tad came in, I told him the news. “That’s great,” he said, smiling. “I have orders to discontinue your IV and put you on oral meds.” Later that morning, he deftly pulled my IV out and gave me a handful of pills to take. I took another shower and shaved carefully. I put on some after-shave lotion I had in my case. Tad even remarked on it. “Well, you must feel better if you’ve put on lotion,” he said, “it smells pretty good.”
He was in and out during the day. We talked and got to know each other a little. I sensed an attraction. Was he leaning over a bit closer than he had to when he listened to my lungs? Did he hold my wrist a bit too long when he counted my pulse? Was that bright smile only for me? Or did all his patients get the same one?
I was let down when he left for the day. “Will you be back tomorrow?” I asked.
“You bet,” he said. “It will be my third day of a three day stretch. Don’t be surprised if I’m a little grouchy.”
“I doubt that,” I replied, “but I’ll be on my best behavior.”
He laughed, a good sound, “Okay, sir, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The next morning, I was up early showering. I wanted to be ready for my doctor, and honestly, for Tad as well. I shaved carefully, put on lotion, brushed my teeth, and generally made myself presentable. As predicted, my doctor came in and promptly discharged me. I suddenly became alarmed. What if I had to leave before seeing Tad? And then I caught myself. What was I thinking? Tad was a man. I could remember acting like this for a woman a long, long, time ago, but never for a man. Did this mean I was turning gay?
No it didn’t, I told myself. I just liked Tad and wanted to say goodbye to him. Anyway, I needn’t have worried. When Tad came in he said, predictably, “Well, Mr. Richardson, your doctor has discharged you.”
“Good,” I said. “Do I leave right away?”
“Heavens no,” Tad said, “I’ve go to do the paperwork first. It will be a little while.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’m at your disposal.”
Later that morning, Tad came to my room, a sheaf of papers in his hand. There were forms to sign, and prescriptions, and something called “discharge teaching.” We got through it all fairly quickly. I was dressed and ready to go. “Is that it?” I asked.
“Yep,” he said. “But you have to wait while someone takes you down in a wheelchair.”
“You’re kidding,” I said incredulously.
“Nope,” he said, smiling. “Hospital rules. We can’t take the chance that you’ll fall and hurt yourself on the way out.”
“Who’s going to take me?” I asked.
“Probably one of the techs. Mary, I would think,” Tad said, a little smile on his lips.
“Hrmph. She’ll probably be glad to be rid of me.”
“Anyway, Mr. Richardson, It’s been a pleasure taking care of you. Take care of yourself.” He stuck out his hand. I shook it.
At that moment, something happened inside me. Suddenly, I had to see Tad again. I said, “Tad, how would you like to go out sometime? Maybe have dinner or see a movie?”
He looked surprised. “Well, I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve never been out with a patient, I mean, former patient, before.”
“Nothing elaborate,” I added hastily. “I thought maybe we could just have an evening together. Do you by chance play golf? We could hit a bucket of balls.” I realized I was talking fast and sounding like a fool, a desperate one at that. I reached into my pocket and took out my business card. “Here,” I said. “Call me if you’d like to go out.” Tad still had hold of my hand. He gave it a quick shake and took the card.
“Tell you what,” he said, taking out his pen. Tad wrote something on the back of the card and handed it back to me. “Why don’t you call me? Here’s my number.”
A surge of excitement coursed through my body. I know my hand was shaking slightly when I took the card back. Still, I managed to sound casual. “Okay. I will,” I said.
“Well, I have to go. Take care, Mr. Richardson,” Tad said, turning to the door.
“Cliff,” I said, “call me Cliff.”
He turned, smiled and said. “Okay, Cliff,” and left the room.
I turned the card over and looked at it. Written on the back was “Tad Sorenson” and a phone number. There was also a little smiley face.
That night, back at my house, I was having mixed feelings. While I definitely wanted to see Tad again, I wondered what I would be getting myself into if I called the number. Where was this leading to? Did I actually propose to “date” him? I had always considered myself strictly heterosexual, notwithstanding my youthful experimentation. I loved pussy! But at the same time, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I put his card down beside my phone and decided to think about it a little.
That night, my sleep was full of dreams, and they all involved Tad, or Robin, or Kerry. I took it as a sign. All day long I planned what I was going to say. That evening, with shaking hands, I picked up the phone and dialed Tad’s number. It rang eight times and I was just about to give up when somebody picked up and in a breathless voice, answered, “Hello!”
“Hello,” I said, “I’m calling for Tad.”
“This is he.”
“Tad, this is Cliff Richardson.”
“Oh yes!” Tad said. He sounded pleased, and my heart gave a little lift. “How are you, Cliff?”
“I’m much better, thank goodness. I felt pretty bad for a while. Listen, I was wondering if you’d like to…” I stammered.
“Go out? Sure, I’d love to.”
I barely managed to get the next few words out, but I managed to say, “How about dinner? Maybe a movie?”
“That’s fine,” Tad said. “When?”
“Tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.” I was feeling a little more confident now. This was just like making a date with a woman.
“Make it seven-thirty. I have to work and I don’t get off until six forty-five.”
“Seven-thirty it is, then,” I said. “See you then.” As I hung up, a palpable excitement filled my chest. I still didn’t understand it, but I was happy to have it. I hadn’t felt this way in a long time.
The work orders for title abstracts had piled up while I was gone, and I spent the next day at the courthouse doing research and fending off lawyers’ offices while I tried to catch up. It didn’t stop my anticipation from mounting, though, as the day wore on.
I had gotten direction to Tad’s place and that night at seven-thirty, I was there to pick him up. He lived in an upscale apartment complex and I admired the nice cars parked in the lot as I pulled in. I hoped I was dressed okay. I had on my best shoes, light linen slacks and a button-down dress shirt, worn open. I had shaved carefully and put on my favorite cologne. I had even done my nails.
Tad answered the door and asked me in. I was impressed. I though he’d said that he was a contract nurse, and so would only be at this assignment for about three months. Still, the apartment was tastefully furnished and appointed with small touches that added class and comfort. He had made it into a home, if a temporary one.
Tad himself was dressed in a creamy yellow sport shirt, fashionable blue jeans and penny loafers. A preppy look, but I liked it. When he greeted me, he smiled as if he meant it. I stood nervously in the living room while he got ready. A couple of minutes later, he came out with a sweater over his arm and said, “I’m ready, let’s go.”
I had spent a lot of time thinking about where we should go. I wanted to impress him, without appearing to try too hard. On the other hand, there was still a little part of me that rebelled at this being a “date.” Weren’t we just two guys going out for dinner?
I took him to the nicest restaurant in town.
It was a steak place called Rufous, and it was on the edge of town, nearly hidden in a grove of trees. I had been there only once before, and it had cost me a pretty penny. Something told me that Tad was used to being taken out to nice places, and I didn’t want to disappoint him.
Tad ordered the smallest, most expensive steak they had, “half a baked potato, sour cream only,” and a salad. I ordered a T-bone with fried onions and steamed vegetables, and splurged on a very nice, garnet-red cabernet to drink with it. For dessert, we shared a dish of peach ice cream and a slice of pound cake. I could hardly believe it, nor did I protest, when Tad carefully scooped a little cake and ice cream onto his spoon and held it out for me to eat. “Together, Cliff, eat them together,” he said as I closed my mouth over the treat. I looked into his smiling eyes as I swallowed. I was suddenly a little weak.
I had planned for us to go to a movie, and I told him so, but then I said, “Do you mind if we just drive around a little and talk?” Tad said that was fine with him.
We drove around in the country for a while, and then ended up at his apartment. “Would you like to come in?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said. I hoped I didn’t sound too eager.
He made coffee and put on a CD—I couldn’t tell you what it was if my life depended on it—and sat down beside me on a very nice leather sofa. He was at one end and I was at the other. I wished we were closer. Then Tad looked at me and said, “Okay Cliff, be honest. Just what are you doing here tonight?”
I was surprised. I know that I blushed. For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I started to stammer, “Well, I just thought it would be nice to…”
Tad interrupted me. “Listen, Cliff. I know you know that I’m a gay man. I know that you are not a gay man. Is this just an experiment for you? If it is, I want you to know that I’ve been down this path before, and I got hurt. I like older guys, but I’m not going to put my heart or my body out there for some aging pseudo-gay Casanova who just wants to know how it feels to have a man go down on him.”
I looked at him. “The truth is, I don’t really know. When I was younger, I did a little experimenting with a friend, but it never developed into anything. It passed, and I’ve been exclusively with women for the rest of my life. Hell, I was married for a long time. I’ve always enjoyed sex with women. But there must have been something in the back of my mind, something dormant, something waiting, the whole time. And then I was in the hospital, and a little vulnerable, and I saw you, and I suddenly had to get to know you better. Tad, I’m attracted to you physically, I won’t deny it. I love your hands. But I also think we have a connection that goes deeper than just that. I promise you my feelings for you are genuine. I will not hurt you and I’ll treat you with the utmost respect. I am nothing if not a gentleman. Still, if you want this to end now, I’ll understand.”
He smiled and said, “A gentleman. What a novel concept in this day and age. Cliff, I believe you.” He patted the couch next to him and said, “Slide over here.” I slid over eagerly. “Now put your arm around me,” he said quietly. I did so. “Have you ever kissed a man before?” he asked. “No,” I said. “Well, there’s a first time for everything,” he said. Tad turned toward me, put his hand on my face and pulled me down. Our lips touched, our mouths opened, I felt and tasted his tongue, and I kissed and was kissed by a man for the first time in my life.
I cannot describe the feelings that kiss produced in me. I felt a rush of excitement unlike any I had felt before. Tad was both more aggressive and more submissive than a woman. At first his tongue was in my mouth, but then he drew my tongue into him, and gently sucked on it.
I was erect within seconds.
We sat on his couch and “made out,” for want of a better term, for about fifteen minutes, and then to my disappointment, Tad pushed me away gently. “Cliff, I think it’s time for you to go,” he whispered. I could see that his face was flushed and that he was breathing heavily; I was gratified to know that he was excited too.
“Okay,” I said, “but one more before I go.”
Tad obliged me with another kiss, this one slightly more chaste than our previous ones. I reluctantly got up and walked to the door. Tad followed. When I opened the door, he leaned against the opening. A little smile played across his lips. I took his hand in both of mine and asked the age-old question: “When am I going to see you again?”
“Call me tomorrow and we’ll see,” he said. “I’ll be in and out during the day.” Then he smiled a trifle ruefully and said, “I hope that I don’t live to regret this, Cliff.”
“You won’t, I promise,” I said, and walked on air to my car.
I worked at the courthouse the next day, but my mind wasn’t on my work. Tad was all I could think about. Finally, at one o’clock, I dialed his number. He picked up on the fourth ring.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hi Tad, it’s Cliff Richardson.”
“Oh hello!” he said. I was thrilled. He actually sounded happy to hear from me.
“How’s your day going?”
“Just fine. I’m cleaning up around the house. How about you?”
“Routine, for once,” I replied. “I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed last night. It was a bit of a revelation for me.”
“Oh? How so?”
“It’s hard to explain over the phone. I’d have to tell you in person.” I said this fervently hoping that he’d agree to see me again soon.
“That can probably arranged, Cliff. What did you have in mind?”
Knowing that this was a clue for me to take the lead, I said, “If you’re not doing anything this afternoon, why don’t we meet for drinks?”
“Sounds good. I know just the place.”
We arranged to meet at one of the local sports bars where one could get a drink or a beer or a steak. I was there at five. Tad showed up at five-ten. He was wearing crisp khakis, penny loafers and an expensive linen shirt of several pastel colors. I waved him over and he smiled when he saw me. On his way through the restaurant, I saw several other male patrons look at him. Some watched appreciatively, others with barely concealed disgust. It was a bit of a shock for me. Suddenly, I wondered if I wanted to be associated so closely with a gay man. I mean, wouldn’t most people now assume that I was gay also? I must have been frowning when Tad walked up, because he said, “What’s the matter, Cliff? Is something bothering you?” He sat down across from me and looked into my eyes.
“Nothing,” I said. “Just thinking about my ex-wife.”
“Mmmm-hmmm,” he said dubiously. It was obvious that he didn’t believe me. Then it occurred to me. Tad had encountered this before. He had told me that he’d “been down this road before,” presumably with other men like me, men who had never been in a homosexual relationship before. It became clear that this whole encounter was a test. A test to see whether I was embarrassed to be seen in public with Tad. Even his outfit was part of the test. Tad looked great to me, but his dress and the way he carried himself practically shouted his orientation to the world. I looked around the restaurant. It was filled with men. Most of them were professional types, like me, with shirts and ties. But there was an appreciable number of working class guys and college students. There were women, but not many of them. At this time of the day, this place was mainly male.
And then I decided that it didn’t matter. I had not felt this way about anyone, male or female, in a very long time, and I was not going to let anything ruin it. It was then that I threw myself totally into the relationship with Tad. To do so was such a relief that I must have been smiling, because Tad’s face lit up and he said, “Wow! What a change! You have such a nice smile, Cliff, when you choose to let me see it.”
“Tad,” I said happily, “you have no idea how glad I am to see you. I have been looking forward to this all afternoon.” I reached over and patted his hand, his beautiful hand.
Tad looked down, then back up at me from under lidded eyes and said, “I’m glad you’re glad. I think we’re off to a good start.”
We ordered drinks and sat talking for two hours. During that time we also ate, but I don’t remember what we had. We talked about everything: politics, movies, our families (including my children), all the things people talk about to get to know each other. At about eight, we got up to leave, leaving our long-suffering server a generous tip. I walked him to his car, a very nice gold-colored Avalon. “I would ask you over, Cliff, but I’ve got to work tomorrow and the next day. I have to get some rest and if you came over, we might spend the night…talking.” He blushed attractively. (My heart actually beat a little harder.)
“No,” I said, “it’s quite all right. I have to work tomorrow too. I’d like to call you tomorrow night though, if it’s all right.”
“Absolutely,” he said. “Call me tomorrow night.”
“And by the way,” I said, handing him my card, “here are my numbers. Both my cell and my house phone are on there, as well as my email address. “Okay then, ‘bye,” I said, leaning in. Tad favored me with a smile and firm peck on the lips. He then slipped into his car and drove off.
The next two days we didn’t see each other, only talked on the phone. They weren’t long conversations, just keeping-in-touch talks, but they were pleasant enough. On Friday night, I asked Tad if he’d like to spend Saturday together with me. To my delight, he said yes, and on Saturday morning I picked him up at his apartment. First we went to the gym, where we both enjoyed good, hard workouts. We played a couple of games of racquetball, each one of us winning one. Afterward, we went out to lunch. Over a second glass of cold white wine, Tad told me that he’d always found older guys more interesting than younger ones.
“You said you’d been down this road before.” I said. “Do you mind telling me what you mean?”
Tad sighed and looked away. Then he looked at me and said, “When I was twenty-two, just out of nursing school, I had an affair with an older man. He was a doctor at a hospital where I worked. Very handsome. Very distinguished. Wealthy. The whole package. I fell in love with him. He took me to Italy with him, for heaven’s sake. Then I found out that he was divorced, no, actually just separated from his wife. He had teenaged kids. He told me one night that he was on the verge of reconciling with her. I wanted him to make a choice. His family or me. It was stupid of me, I know, to force him to choose.” Tad wiped a tear with the back of his hand. I gave him a napkin. He wiped his eyes and blew his nose. “I don’t want you to see me like this,” he said.
“I’m sorry I brought it up,” I said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Oh, it’s all right,” he said, laying his hand on mine. “But you can see why I’m a little ‘gun shy’ if you know what I mean. Anyway, in the end, he chose to go back to his family. I chose to move on. But it still hurts a little when I think about him.”
“Is he a local doctor?” I asked.
“Heaven’s no! I couldn’t stand to be around him anymore. He’s in another state, and good riddance to him.”
“Well Tad,” I said, “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. My wife and I are totally and completely divorced, with no chance of getting back together. My children are living their own lives now. Now, I’ll admit, this is the first time I’ve ever been in a relationship with a man, but I feel kind of like I’ve been waiting for it, for you, my entire life. I want to make this work between us. God! I can’t believe I’m saying this! It’s so different from what I’ve been like before. But it feels really right to me.”
“I’m glad,” Tad said, looking at me.
We spent the rest of the afternoon shopping. Tad helped me pick out a new shirt and shoes. They were both of a style that I would never have chosen for myself, but I figured I was broadening my horizons in several ways. Afterward, we went over to my house for dinner. I already had the grill set up and the steaks marinating. I opened a bottle of my (best!) red wine and we started on it while I grilled. Tad made fettuccini alfredo and a salad. I had put a record album on my turntable while we cooked. “I can’t believe you have a turntable and records,” he said, kneeling in front of my entertainment center. He pulled out an album and handed it to me. “Let’s play this one,” he said.
I looked at it. It was by Dire Straits, an album title Making Movies. Actually one of my favorites. “Good choice,” I said. “I really like this album.” Soon we were enjoying Mark Knopfler’s guitar playing. Then “Romeo and Juliet” came on, the second track on the album. “I love this song,” I said to Tad.
“Me too,” he said. “It’s so romantic.”
I couldn’t help myself. I put my wine glass down and came up behind Tad. I put my hands on his slender waist and turned him around. He moved into my arms and we exchanged the first kiss of the day. It was perfect. It was quite a while before we broke the kiss. Tad patted me on the chest and whispered, “More of this later, baby. I’m starving.”
“I’m starving, too,” I murmured.
“Patience, big boy. Good things come to those who wait,” he said, turning back around and pouring sauce onto noodles. I picked up my glass, refilled his and mine, and went back into the yard. The steaks were done. I brought them in and set our places. Tad served the fettuccini and the salad. We ate hungrily, talking little, the silence companionable.
The sun was going down as we drank coffee on the back porch of my house. I lived out in the country. My porch looked out upon a field, with a patch of woods bordering it. The sun set behind the trees, the shadows lengthened and stretched toward us. It got a little cool. We went inside and sat on the couch. The room got darker, so I lit a candle or two. I put on another album, this time a really old one—The Best of Bread. Tad put his head on my shoulder. I played with his hair. It was very fine.
“That feels nice,” he said quietly.
“You have the nicest hair. So straight and fine.”
“Cliff.”
“Yes.”
“Please kiss me now.”
He crawled into my arms. I looked into his eyes, half-closed with anticipation, mouth slightly open. His body was warm and firm; his muscles moved smoothly under my hands. I pulled him close and kissed him, gently at first, then more deeply, more hungrily. The kiss went on and on. I felt it in my whole body. Tad was a better kisser than any woman I’d ever met, even my wife. It was like he threw his whole being into the kiss. I was erect within moments.
I felt Tad’s hand on my chest, and then his fingers unbuttoning my shirt. His hot breath seared my skin. He took my nipple into his mouth, sucked gently. My belt became unbuckled. My pants were deftly undone. His lips moved back up my throat; I was kissed again. A warm hand went under the band of my shorts and grasped my cock. A rush of pleasure coursed through my body. It had been years since I’d had my cock touched by another person. My ex-wife and I had not made love for at least a year before we separated. Tad slowly worked his hand up and down on my erection. It made no difference, none at all, that it was a man handling me instead of a woman. “Oh baby,” I moaned, “that feels so good.”
“It’s going to feel better,” Tad whispered into my ear. He lowered his head onto my lap. I felt his hot breath on my stomach. He pulled down my shorts and took my cock into his mouth, sucking it just right. He was warm and wet and very practiced. I could already tell that no woman had ever sucked me with as much skill and relish. We went on like that for several minutes, and then I had to stop him—I was getting ready to cum. “Let’s go in the bedroom,” I murmured. We got up off the couch and I led Tad by the hand to the back of the house.
We undressed quickly and got into bed together. I was struck by how much the same, yet how different it was from making love to a woman. Tad’s skin was certainly soft and smooth. He had hardly any hair anywhere, and what he did have was soft and light. He kissed ardently and somewhat aggressively, but let me take the lead. He took my tongue like a woman. I kissed him on the neck and nibbled his ear, then moved lower to his chest. He moaned. All this time, there was the undeniably arousing, yet strange sensation of our genitals being squashed together. We were both hard. He lay back a little, and I looked at his pale smooth body by the light of the lamp. I ran my hand over him, ending at his crotch. I hesitated.
“Have you ever handled another man’s cock before, Cliff?” Tad asked.
“No, I never have,” I managed to choke out.
“Then we’re both about to get a treat. Go ahead, lover. Touch my cock.”
Tad was about seven inches long, fairly thick, and cut. He obviously trimmed his pubic hair, because it was no more than a springy little bush. His testicles were large, the sac drawn up firmly. Tad’s cock was fully erect. I put my hand around it and squeezed gently. He sighed and inhaled sharply. “Oh yes baby, that feels good.” I moved my hand up and down on it a little, and a small drop of clear pre-cum appeared at the tip.
“I want to do it,” I said.
“Do what, baby?”
“I want to suck it.”
Smiling, Tad looked at me and with a mischievous glint in his eye, asked, “Suck what?”
Now I was smiling. Now I realized that for many years, I’d waited for this moment. I’d waited for the right time, the right man, and, heaven help me, the right cock. “I want to suck your cock, Tad.”
“Go ahead, Cliff darling. Enjoy yourself. Oh, and don’t worry about my cumming in your mouth. We’ll get to that later.” With that, Tad laid back a little, displaying his slender, pale body and hard cock to me.
I was literally trembling with anticipation, and with trepidation. I had never sucked a man’s cock before. This was unknown territory for me. I scooted down so that I was directly over his groin. I picked up Tad’s cock and placed a tentative kiss on the head. I ran my tongue over the bulbous glans and took it into my mouth. He tasted smooth and alive, a warm living thing. He was also nice and hard. I sucked ardently. For a second, I couldn’t believe what I was doing: I was actually sucking another man’s cock, and enjoying it. Just as quickly, I accepted it and realized that this was what I wanted. I settled in to give Tad a good cocksucking. “That’s good, Cliff,” I heard Tad say. I tasted something a little salty and realized that it was Tad’s pre-cum. I squeezed the shaft and milked a little into my mouth. Tad groaned. I figured I must have been doing all right. Suddenly, I remembered all the times that women (the few that I’d had) had sucked my cock. I remembered how much I liked it, but also that most of them didn’t seem to enjoy what they were doing. It was something to get past, so they could get my mouth on their pussies, and then presumably my cock in there. I made up my mind right then and there that Tad would never feel that way about my cocksucking.
The excitement got too much for me, and I moaned with a mouthful of Tad’s penis. I opened wide to get more of him into me, closed my lips tightly, and sucked hard, moving my head up and down. He groaned again, and thrust his pelvis forward a little. He was fucking my mouth, and I loved it! I threw my body over his, laying my head down on his stomach, the warm wonderful taste, smell and feel of his dick overwhelming me. I was moaning and didn’t even realize it, and more than anything in the world, I wanted that man’s cum in my mouth. But then he gently pushed me away. “Let me do you,” he said.
Tad pushed me back on the bed and got between my legs. He started by kissing the insides of my thighs and working slowly toward the center. As he did so, my cock got harder and harder. He cupped my balls in his hand and kissed and sucked them, then planted a line of wet sucky kisses all the way up my shaft. When he got to the top, he engulfed the head with the wettest, most ardent cocksucking mouth I’d ever felt. “Oh! That feels so damn good!” I cried. Without missing a beat, he deep-throated me, something no woman had ever done. Slowly he crawled up my shaft. I felt his talented tongue every millimeter of the way. I looked into his eyes, his pretty eyes, and I couldn’t help but give a little thrust. Then down he went again. This time he worked me a little with his hand, and the sensations were exquisite, beyond anything I’d ever known before. It wasn’t going to take much of this before I exploded, and I told him so. To my amazement, it made no difference to him. He kept on sucking. He went back up to the head, and sucked gently, concentrating on the tip. His slender hand began moving up and down on my shaft; his mouth worked his magic on my glans.
“It’s going to happen Tad, very soon!”
He took his mouth off and said, “You can cum in my mouth, lover. I want you to.” Then down he went again. I spread my legs open and relaxed, letting Tad suck my cock and take me anywhere he wanted me to go. I closed my eyes as an engulfing warmth spread through my body, its center at my cock. I felt a knot of pleasure-pain forming at the base of my penis. I felt Tad’s warm hand and wet mouth drawing my essence. And then I came.
I grunted sharply as a bead of hot-sweet-sharp semen made its way up my cock and blasted into Tad’s ever-so ready mouth. I was helpless in ecstasy as my orgasm roared through me. It was by far the most intense climax I’d ever experienced. I looked down to see Tad busily sucking and swallowing every drop of my cum. He finished and let my cock drop out of his mouth with a soft pop, then crawled up beside me on the bed. He kissed me and I kissed him back, hard. Smiling down at me, he asked, “Did you enjoy that, Cliff?”
“I’ve never felt anything like that,” I said. “No woman has ever made me feel that way. It was like you totally accepted me. It was the best. I need to rest for a moment, but then I want to do you.”
A few minutes later, I was ready. I laid my head on Tad’s belly and looked at his semi-erect cock. I picked it up in my hand, then kissed it all over, from root to head, nuzzling it and feeling its warmth. Slowly it came to life in my hand. When it was hard, I once again took it into my mouth. Carefully, I sucked the head and glans, trying not to let my teeth touch it. While I did that, I played with his balls and worked the shaft a little. This was going to last, I told myself. Tad shifted a little and I felt his hand on my head. He ran his fingers through my hair. “Am I doing it right?” I asked. “You’re doing just fine,” he replied.
I shifted forward and took a little more. I wanted to get the whole thing in my mouth if I could. The press of the head against the back of my throat made me gag a little, so I backed off. I let myself fully experience what I was doing. There was nothing in the world but his cock and my mouth and what I was doing to him. He began moaning and I responded. I picked up the pace and worked my mouth up and down over the shaft. Tad tensed. He was close to cumming. I heard him say, “Finish me off with your hand, baby.” Reluctantly, I took him out of my mouth but licked the tip as I jacked him off. Tad thrust a little, and then his hot warm cum spewed out. Most of it ran down my hand, but some of it got on my lips. I took a little into my mouth. It had a salty, alkaline taste. The smell was also a bit alkaline. Not unpleasant. Tad was uttering quiet grunts as his cum pumped out. I jacked his cock a little more, then stopped, knowing that it would be getting sensitive now.
Now I was left with the sticky aftermath of our lovemaking. Unlike Tad, who’d swallowed me, I had to clean up a little. I disengaged myself slowly from him and walked shakily to the bathroom. I came back with a washcloth, cleaned up the mess, and crawled into bed beside him.
“How did I do?” I asked.
“Not bad for a first-timer. You’ve never sucked a cock before, have you?”
“Well, when I was younger, I did a little experimenting. Let’s just say that I’ve had a cock in my mouth before, but I never finished the job.” I actually felt a little embarrassed at telling him this. I had just sucked him off, and telling my gay lover about former experiences had caused me to blush a little.
Tad smiled at me and caressed me gently. He turned on his side. I put my arm around him and drew him close. “I really don’t know how to feel,” I said. “I suppose that I’ve been harboring these feelings for a long time, yet never really acknowledged them. I always thought that I was straight, through and through. I believed that the things I did in my youth were aberrations, nothing more. I guess not. I guess they were actual desires coming to the surface.”
“I’ve been like this for as long as I can remember,” Tad said. “I don’t know any other way to be. I’m under no illusions as to what I am, or what I want.”
“Have you ever been with a woman?” I asked.
“I tried it once, but it didn’t work. To me, a woman’s genitals just aren’t appealing. I mean, the smell and the moisture and the hair. It all just seems so unsanitary. Yuck. I like a good, hard cock. But that’s not everything. I like men because of the way we are. Women make good friends, but men are much more to my liking as lovers. We know what we want. We want to get off. If a man’s cock is hard—hell, even if it isn’t—I can get him off. Not so much foreplay bullshit. I don’t have to spend weeks or even months cultivating a relationship before I can get a man in bed. And baby, if you cum, I’ll know it. Just like I’ll know it if you don’t cum. No faking. I hate that about women. Some men claim that they can always tell if a woman is faking her orgasms. Bullshit. I know women who’ve never had an orgasm, and yet their husbands and boyfriends believe they’re satisfying them every time they make love. Let me tell you, honey, a man believes what he wants to believe. If she makes enough noise, he’ll think she just had the best orgasm in the history of orgasms, while all she wants to do is read a fucking romance novel.”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s a bit cynical, Tad. I hope you don’t feel that way about me.”
“Cliff,” he said gently, “you are my lover, and special to me. Yes, I’ve been around the block a few times. I’ve been used a few times, by men and women. But I’ve never cheated on a lover. I will not cheat on you. And as long as you treat me well and are honest with me, you will have my heart and my loyalty.” He grasped my cock gently, and fondled it until it was hard. “Now,” he said have you ever had anal sex?”
“Yes, with a woman.”
“Well, you’ve never had it yet, until you’ve had it with me. Have you got any lube?”
“I believe I’ve got some K-Y around here. Funny, I never got rid of it.”
“Then find it,” Tad said, “I want your cock up my butt.”
I looked in the bedside drawer and found the tube. Tad got into position, his butt in the air, his butthole fully exposed. From this angle, it looked like a woman’s ass, except the opening was maybe a little hairier. I put a glob of lube on his asshole, and some on my cock, and got behind him. From the times I’d done this with women, I knew to go slow. I placed the tip of my cock against the opening, and pushed forward slowly. Tad pushed back, which surprised me a little. Normally, when I had done this with women, they’d resisted or protested, or made me feel like they were doing me a huge favor. Not so with Tad. Before I knew it, the head of my cock was inside. Now Tad was taking deep breaths and moaning a little. “Is it too much?” I asked anxiously.
“No baby, you’re doing it just right,” he whispered. Then Tad pushed back again, and my whole cock was swallowed up by his butthole. “That feels good,” Tad said. “I so love a nice hard dick in my ass. Stroke me a little, lover.” I started moving back and forth, grasping him by the hips. He was very smooth and warm. “Now hold up a minute. Stay deep,” he said.
He got very tight around me. I mean really snug. And then he began moving back and forth. Tad was milking my cock, loosening up on the downstroke, and tightening on the upstroke. It felt wonderful. He pulled up a little, and his hole danced around the head of my cock a few times, then he plunged back down. I moaned loudly. I heard him chuckle and say, “Pretty good, huh?” “You have no idea, Tad,” I managed to get out. “That’s just it,” he said, “I do have an idea.” He slowed his rhythm a little to let me catch my breath. I caught his hips again, and thrust into him over and over. I pulled back and worked the head into his asshole, then shoved my cock back in. It was feeling very hot and good down there, and I was going to cum soon.
“Oh baby,” I’m gonna cum,” I exclaimed.
“Go ahead! Don’t hold back! Give me that hot cum!”
He leaned up and back, and I felt his hand come around and grasp my ass, pulling me closer. I put my arm across his chest and we kissed. I reached around and grasped his hard cock, jerking it a little. But to be honest, I couldn’t concentrate. I was so close to cumming that I let go, took hold of his hips, and fucked him for all I was worth. He went back down on his elbows and took it like a man.
A familiar tingle in my groin signaled to me that I was very close. I slowed a little, enjoying the feeling of his tight, hot anus around me. I worked the head a little more, then plunged in. Suddenly I felt the cum bubbling up my shaft. I cried out loudly and jerked spasmodically as Tad took the second load of my cum that night. Jetting into his asshole, I felt for a second like I was leaving my own body. The rush of pleasure was something I’d never felt before. Tad was once again tightening and loosening, milking every drop out of me. Somehow, he’d known just when I was climaxing, and he was doing his best to make it as pleasurable as possible for me. Needless to say, it worked.
When my long, intense climax was over, I collapsed into bed beside him. “I’m getting too old for this,” I sighed. Tad snuggled up to me and kissed me on the shoulder.
“Very satisfying,” he said.
“Very,” I said.
“I can see that you’re tired. Sleep now, honey. We’ll talk in the morning.”
I hardly heard the last few words.
I woke up the next morning to an empty bed. I lay there quietly, going over in my head what had happened the night before. I could hear Tad bustling around in the kitchen. I hoped he was making coffee. Then, nature called and I got up to pee. I washed my face and hands and ran a bath cloth over my cock and balls. I brushed my teeth. Then, still a little tired, I went back to bed. A few minutes later, Tad came in. He was wearing tightie whities and an undershirt. “Good morning!” he called out cheerily. He sat down on the bed and leaned in for a kiss. To my credit, I didn’t hesitate. I kissed him warmly. “Well, that’s a change,” Tad remarked.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, I’ve been with a few men on their first times, and usually they are a bit standoffish in the morning. You know what the song says, ‘It’s in his kiss.'”
“Well, I’ll admit that I’ve got a few things to think about,” I said, “but I don’t regret what happened last night. Not one little bit.”
“Good,” Tad said, “then get something on and come eat. Unless you want me to take care of you right now.” He whipped the covers back to reveal my semi-erect cock. He ran his finger down its length.
“No,” I said, getting out of bed. “I’ll come and eat.” I put on a t-shirt and boxers and went into the kitchen. We had cereal, toast and coffee.
“I like to eat light in the morning, although I could make you something more,” Tad said, crunching on toast.
“No, this is fine,” I said.
“Good. When we’re done, you can run me home.”
I looked at him. “You don’t have to go. We can spend the day together.”
“Listen Cliff,” Tad said, putting a hand on my arm. “It’s been my experience that, after the first night, if we’ve had sex, most of my older lovers like to think about it for a while. It’s all so new to them that they have to mull it over. Right now, you’re probably thinking about last night and how good it was. I’m thinking about it too. But later, since you’re not a gay man, you’ll have second thoughts. I don’t want you getting in too deep when you’re not ready. So you can take me home this morning and call me later this week.”
I started to protest, but then I realized that he was right. The boner I was sporting right then was the result of my thinking about what had happened between us the previous night. It would be better for both of us for me to consider where I wanted this relationship to go.
“I suppose you’re right,” I said. “I want you to know that I want this to continue. But I’ll do what you say and think about it. And I’ll call you later this week.”
He smiled at me. “Good. Now, big boy, would you like me to take care of that hard-on I know you’ve got?”
I grinned. “How did you know that I have a hard-on?”
“My lovers always have a hard-on in the morning. They can’t seem to get enough of me,” he said, laughing a little.
“I know exactly how they feel,” I said. Tad took me by the hand and led me back to the bedroom.
He sat on the edge of the bed and said, “Come over here.”
I stood in front of him, my erection making a tent of my boxers. “What have we here? Oh my goodness, Cliff has a problem that he needs taken care of. Well, I am a nurse after all.” He pulled my shorts down, exposing my nice thick cock. “Oh yes, let’s see what we can do here.”
Tad took the head of my cock into his mouth and began sucking me gently. “I’m going to have to lie down,” I managed to say before my knees buckled.
I kicked off my shorts and lay down on the bed. Tad crawled up between my legs and parted his lips over my cock. He swirled his tongue around the head, then plunged down, taking half my length into his wet, warm mouth. “I love sucking a cock in the morning,” he gasped, before plunging down again. When he came back up, he tugged with his slender hand. With just the right amount of speed and pressure, Tad sucked and tugged on my prick until, with a strangled whisper, I managed to say, “Oh baby! I’m going to cum very soon.” He plunged once again onto my raging, rock-hard phallus, this time taking its full length into his sucking eager mouth. He stayed like that for a few seconds, then came up, took a breath and went back down. I could feel every caress of his talented tongue. This time, I felt my orgasm building powerfully. Down Tad went, and up ratcheted my excitement. Finally, with little warning, I climaxed, shooting gob after gob of thick hot gooey cum into Tad’s mouth. He caught and swallowed most of it, but some ran down my prick onto his hand.
“Oh Lordy, Cliff! I didn’t think you had it in you,” he said looking at me. There was a little splatter of semen on his lower lip. I saw his tongue snake out and lick it up.
“I usually don’t. But this is a special occasion.”
He took me back into his mouth and cleaned me thoroughly. Then he sat back on his heels, patted my thigh and said, “Okay, big boy, time to take me home.”
I reluctantly got up and got dressed. To be sure, I was full of conflicting emotions. But I also knew that I would be calling him later in the week. When I pulled up in front of his apartment, I pulled him close and kissed him long and sensuously. I wanted him to know that it wasn’t going to end there. I wanted him to know how I felt. He kissed me back the same, then broke the kiss, patting my chest and saying, “Whew! We’d better stop or I’m going to have to change my policy.” Then he got out. He gave a little wave, then walked lightly over to his apartment.
* * *
I’d like to say that I couldn’t resist calling him right away, but it wouldn’t be true. Tad had been right, I needed time to think. I wondered if I’d been gay all along, but had not realized it. I doubted that, since, as I said before, I’d always enjoyed pussy. I loved women, while at the same time I knew perfectly well how aggravating they could be. My ex had been, on the whole, a good wife. But she had also been a bitch sometimes who had bartered affection (if not sex) for money and used premenstrual syndrome and her monthly period to treat me like shit and even lash out at the kids. At times, I was amazed that we had ever married in the first place. We basically had nothing in common by the time we were divorced. I was getting nothing out of the marriage, and neither was she, even though she wouldn’t admit it. It was a relief for both of us when we split up. It is possible that my marriage had colored my feelings toward women. During the marriage, I’d been tempted, but never slept with another woman. I had looked at them and seen my wife looking back at me through their eyes. Even if I had started a relationship with one of the women I knew, how long would it be before they started acting like her?
I couldn’t deny the physical attraction to Tad. Though not muscle-bound, he was very fit. His skin was smooth and the muscles beneath were hard. He had very little hair, just a little sprinkling in his pubic area and on his arms and legs. He had great eyes and a sensuous mouth. I loved his smile and his sense of humor. Tad had fine light-brown hair and a discreet spray of freckles across his nose. In short, he was for me, the perfect man.
What would my children and ex-wife think if they found out about us, though? That was a sticky one. In a perfect world, I would have spent as much time as possible with Tad and said to hell with the rest. But the world is not perfect. So, I had to figure out whether what I got from being with my male lover was worth what I was going to pay.
Tad had already been hurt before when a former lover had left him and gone back to his family. No worries there—I had no family to go back to. What Tad was really scared of was being used, hurt and abandoned. Well, isn’t that a fear that we all have? I certainly didn’t want it to happen to me. While my ex would probably smile sarcastically and say “I knew it” when she heard (and she would hear, eventually) that I’d gone with a gay man, it would probably hurt my children. Wendy and David were both in their twenties now, and out on their own. They were both modern adults, and liberal in their thinking, but how would they react to this? I could only imagine that learning their father was engaged in a homosexual relationship would, to coin a phrase, “rock their world,” and not in a good way. On the other hand, they’ve got to have known how desperately unhappy both me and their mother had been. And while my ex had moved on with another man (good luck with that, by the way) I had been floundering of late. The relief of ending the marriage had not ended the loneliness. To tell the truth, I had been at a real low point when Tad came along. Now I realized that even as I pondered the ramifications of my relationship, there was a little voice deep inside of me that was singing. Singing with joy at having found Tad. I decided that I didn’t really care what my ex-wife thought. That was the first thing. The second thing I decided was that, when the time was right, I would sit down with my children and tell them what had happened. I would tell them how I felt. I would be honest with them. I would open my heart to them and let the chips fall where they may. I was happy for the first time in a long time, and it was because of Tad. I wasn’t going to let it go.
I had left Tad on Saturday morning. I made my decision on Sunday night. I didn’t want to appear too eager, so I held off until Tuesday night before I called him. The phone rang twice, then his answering machine picked up. “Hi, this is Tad, leave me a message, please.” I started to talk, but he picked up. “Hi Cliff,” he said. “Sorry about the machine, but I’m screening my calls right now.”
“Telemarketers?” I asked.
“Um, something like that. What’s up?”
I was suddenly feeling awkward. Even though we’d made love, I still felt unsure of myself around him. I desperately wanted him, and I wanted him to want me. But I wasn’t sure how Tad actually felt about me.
“Well, I’ve thought about us. I’m ready to continue with our relationship. Let’s see how far it will take us.” There, I’d said it. I hadn’t actually told him that I was in love, but what I was feeling was certainly close to it.
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said. But then he said nothing else.
“So? When can we get together? I’d really love to see you.” I wondered why he was being so noncommittal.
“I’ll tell you what. Call me later this week, maybe Friday night.”
This struck me like a blow. Why was he putting me off? “Tad, is everything all right? I’ve thought about it and I want to be with you. Isn’t that what you wanted?” I was starting to get upset.
Tad said, “Listen, I really like you. But I can’t talk now. Call me later this week.” Then he whispered into the phone, “We’ll talk later this week. I promise.”
“Okay,” I managed to say, dumbfounded. As we hung up, I was left with the impression that someone else was with Tad, someone that he didn’t want me to know about.
I managed to hold off until Friday night, but it was difficult. What I really wanted to do was confront Tad and say, “What the hell’s the matter? I thought we had something!” But I managed to contain myself. On Friday evening, with (once again) trembling hands, I picked up the receiver and called. He picked up as soon as I started speaking.
“Hi Cliff,” he said. He sounded okay, but maybe a little guarded.
“Hi Tad,” I said. “How’s it going? You left me a little worried the other night. Is everything all right?”
“Well Cliff, it’s a little complicated. Look, let’s meet somewhere where we can talk.”
“Why don’t I just come over? Or, why don’t you come over here? I’ll fix us a nice dinner. We’ll have wine, listen to a little music and …talk.”
To my great relief, I heard Tad laugh. “Is that all you want, Cliff? To talk? Sounds like a seduction to me.”
“I won’t lie to you, Tad, I want you. But you’re calling the shots tonight. If all you want is to talk, then that’s what we’ll do.” I waited anxiously for his reply.
“I’ll be over in twenty minutes,” he said. I took a breath for the first time in five minutes.
“Great,” I said. “I’ll have everything ready.”
“I’ll bet you will,” he said, and hung up.
I had already showered and put on cologne in hopes we would see each other tonight, so all I had to do was chill some wine and make some dinner. I put a nice sparkling white wine in the freezer, making a mental note to get it out before it froze. Then I put a turkey breast in the oven to roast. I set out brie and crackers, lit candles, and tossed a nice fresh salad. I made a pan of wild rice with mushrooms, and got the coconut cake I’d bought earlier that day out of the refrigerator. I brewed a pot of strong coffee as well, his favorite brand. These were all things that I knew Tad liked. I put in a CD that I also knew he liked, and had just pushed play when there was a knock at the door.
I opened the door and there he was, dressed in pressed corduroy jeans, an ecru dress shirt and his standard penny loafers. He looked great. I told him so. “Thanks,” he said, giving me a big smile.
“It’s so good to see you,” I said.
“It’s good to see you, too,” he replied.
I gave him a big hug, feeling him against me, smelling his scent. He was warm and firm and he hugged me back, for which I was immensely grateful.
“There’s cheese and crackers on the table, if you’re hungry,” I said. I suddenly remembered the wine in the freezer; thankfully it hadn’t frozen. It opened with a pop, and I poured two glasses. It was a little sweet, but mainly bubbly and tart. The wine and cheese were a good match.
“You splurged,” Tad said, eating a little cheese and sipping wine.
“Well, I hadn’t seen you in a few days. I wanted it to be special.” I looked at him. “I want all our times to be special.”
He smiled and put his hand on my shoulder. “Me, too.”
The rest of the night went well. We ate well of the turkey, rice, and salad. After dinner, I pressed a small piece of cake and a cup of coffee on him. We talked about work, about politics, about sports. I poured another cup of coffee and we took it into the living room. I put on a long Beach Boys CD and turned down the lights. On the couch, we turned to each other. I played with his hair. “After what happened last week, I did a little soul-searching,” I began.
“You did? And what did you find?” He looked into my eyes, then looked away.
“I found that I don’t care what other people say or think. I don’t care what my children or my ex-wife thinks. I just want to be with you. To tell you the truth, I can’t believe that I’m saying it, but it’s true: I just want you.”
“Cliff, do you know that the hardest person I had to come out to was myself? All through my teenage years, I denied to myself who and what I really was. I figured that I hadn’t met the right woman. When I met her, I would want her the way other men wanted women. But it never happened. Oh, I had plenty of opportunities, but it just wasn’t right. Instead, I just thought about men. Finally, when I was twenty, I admitted to myself that I was gay. And it was like, ‘Oh, what a relief!’ I could finally relax.”
“Well,” I said, “I’m not exactly relaxed right now. In fact, I’m excited. I’m always excited around you. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before, with any woman. As a matter of fact, Tad, I’m going to explode if I don’t kiss you right now.”
I leaned in and our arms went around each other. We kissed fiercely, passionately. I wished it would never end. “Tell me that you want me too, Tad.”
“Oh I do, Cliff. I do!”
We left our coffee on the table and hurried to the bedroom.
Laughing, smiling, we undressed each other. I kicked off my shoes and took his off. I unbuttoned his shirt and kissed his chest. Off came the shirt. I reached for his belt and undid it. “Oh baby, what am I going to find when I pull your pants down?”
“Pull them down and find out,” he whispered huskily.
I knelt in front of Tad, undid his pants, and pulled both his pants and underwear down at the same time. His cock jumped out. “Oh lord, it looks so good,” I said, taking it in my hand. I licked the head and kissed the shaft, nuzzling it eagerly. “Get naked, Cliff,” Tad said, and I quickly undressed. We fell on the bed together, kissing. Our tongues darted into each other’s mouths. Tad kissed my neck, his hot lips tracing a lazy trail down to my nipple. I moaned in pleasure—it had seemed forever since we last made love. He moved down to my stomach, then lower, and I felt his breath on my cock. A warm, wet, appreciative tongue slid from the head of my cock to the root, then back up, where he engulfed me with his ardent mouth. A wave of feeling washed over me and I let out another groan. Tad worked his hand up and down the shaft, causing me to grunt. I took it as long as I could, then said, “Baby, if you keep doing that, I’m going to cum too soon. Let’s change positions.”
We shifted so that we were lying on our sides, each one facing the other’s crotch. Now we could suck each other. After a little rearranging, we were set. I took Tad’s sizable cock into my mouth, enjoying its smoothness and warmth, and sucked hard, trying to keep my teeth from grazing him too much. (After all, I was inexperienced.) At the same time, I was experiencing the most delicious sensations myself as Tad worked on me. We were both giving out with little cries of ecstasy. It was, for me, the most divine sexual experience I’d ever had. Tad knew exactly how to suck my cock. He alternated hard and soft, knew just when to let up and nibble on my shaft, then when to plunge back down and take to whole thing to its root. I was hard put to keep up with him. At times, I just wanted to lie back and enjoy what he was doing. But I wanted to give as good as I was getting, so I gamely kept sucking.
Tad took his mouth off and said, “Let’s try something different.”
“Anything,” I said.
“Have you got any baby oil?” he asked.
“I believe so,” I said. “Should I get it?”
“Get it and bring it to bed.”
I got up and rummaged around in my bathroom cabinet. In the back was a bottle of baby oil that Margaret had kept. I brought it to bed.
“Have you ever heard of frottage?” Tad asked.
“No,” I said.
“It’s called cock-to-cock. We rub our cocks together. That way we get to lie on each other and look each other in the eyes. Here, I’ll show you.”
We sat up in the bed, facing each other. Tad poured a little oil into his hand, then took my cock into his hand and rubbed me down with it. He poured a little on his cock, too. Then, we scooched closer together so that our cocks were side-by-side, touching. “Now,” he said, “take both cocks in your hand and start masturbating us together.”
What a feeling! Unusual and sexy, at the same time. I loved looking at our two cocks next to each other, touching each other. It was like they were making love. Tad leaned in and we kissed. He placed his hand on top of mine and we stroked our cocks together. We fell to our sides, stretched out, and began making love again. “Get on top of me, lover. I want to feel you on top of me,” Tad said. He opened his legs and soon our oil-slippery cocks were trapped between our bodies, rubbing against each other, and our bellies. I felt his hand grasp us both while I was moving against him. Our mouths were glued together. We were fucking face to face! “I’m not going to be able to keep this up for long,” I managed in a strangled whisper, between kisses. “Me neither,” Tad said. “Let’s try to cum together, baby. I want to mix our sperm.” I groaned with pleasure when he said that.
We went for it. Tad held us with just the right pressure. I could feel, with my cock, the shaft and head of his cock gliding against me. His eyes were closed, his mouth open. He was clearly deeply in the throes of pleasure, as was I. I never wanted that moment to end. I wanted always to be there, with my lover Tad. I felt the familiar tingling that told me I was about to climax. “Oh baby, I’m going to cum soon!” I said. “Go for it, I’m with you.” Tad said. A few more strokes and I cried out as the semen burst from my cock, drowning me in pleasure. There was suddenly something hot and sticky between us. The smell of my sperm hit me, heightening my ecstasy. Tad grunted and released his cum then too. I could feel it jetting between us, mixing with mine, joining us together.
We went a few more strokes, until it became too intense, then fell back side by side. There was semen everywhere. We were both heaving huge sighs, replete with happiness and sex. I looked up at our bodies. “We made a mess,” I laughed.
“We sure did.”
I rested a few more minutes, letting my breathing return to normal, then got up and wet a washcloth with warm water. I cleaned us both, then crawled into bed and pulled the sheet up around us. “Are you going to stay the night?” I asked.
“If you want me to.”
“Of course I want you to. Tad?”
“Yes?”
“I…uh, nothing.”
“No, what is it?”
“Nothing. I’ll tell you in the morning.”
We slept, for a while. During the night, I got the urge to suck his cock. I carefully got over him and pulled the covers back. Tad was on his back, his arms thrown back over his head. It was if he abandoned himself to sleep. His cock lay against his belly, semi-hard. It was a nice cock, I thought. Not too big, or too small, and nicely shaped. As I said before, Tad was cut, with a perfectly proportioned head. I picked it up gently, handling it. It got hard almost immediately. Tad, in his sleep, swiped at my hand, and I dropped it, but then I picked it up again. I gently kissed it from root to tip, smelling his skin and the residue of our lovemaking. I moved my hand up and down slightly. It got harder. Taking a deep breath, I placed my mouth over the head and sucked gently. Tad shifted a little, to give me better access. I hoped that he was having an erotic dream, and that I was the star. I plunged my mouth over him, taking as much of his erection as I could get into my mouth. I sucked hard, tasting a little pre-cum as I did so. Tad groaned a little. Was he still asleep? It was hard to tell. His eyes were still closed. But then I looked again and saw him smiling, still with his eyes closed.
I chuckled, mouth full of Tad’s cock. He said, “Didn’t you get enough earlier?”
I reluctantly took my mouth off long enough to say, “Sorry man, but I’m a bit besotted with you. I’ve missed you the past few days, and I’m going to make the most of our time together.”
“Well, from the look of my cock, and what I’m feeling, you are certainly a fast learner.”
I looked at him. “I want to drink your cum,” I said.
“Do you think you’re ready to swallow a man’s semen?” he asked.
“I think I’m ready to swallow yours,” I replied.
He smiled, and opened his legs wider for me. I got down to business. I used every trick I had ever experienced while getting my own cock sucked. I nibbled the shaft like a corn cob, swirled my tongue around the head, flicked the glans, and took him as deeply as I could. Tad groaned and thrust into my mouth. I could tell I was getting to him. It made me feel proud and a little powerful. I had this beautiful man under my control. I was in control of his pleasure. I was the giver, and I was joyfully giving him the best I could. I found it deeply gratifying.
Keeping my mouth on him, I gently grasped his shaft and began tugging at him, while moving my mouth up and down on his head. I knew this would be very intense, so I took it easy for a little while, but gradually I increased the speed and pressure. “Oh baby, suck my big hard cock!” Tad hissed. I gurgled in reply, anxious now for his rush of semen. I had decided to let it spurt down my throat. I didn’t know if I was ready for the taste, but one way or another, Tad was cumming in my mouth.
He threw his arms back over his head, spread his legs even wider, thrusting into my avid mouth. He moaned continuously now, and I could tell he was very close. I paid attention to his breathing. When he started gasping in short, sharp breaths, I got ready to receive his essence. Sure enough, Tad grunted, tensed, and said “Oh baby, here it comes!” His cock seemed to swell and then I tasted the slightly alkaline flavor of my lover’s semen as it jetted over my tongue. Tad grunted with every spurt, and I sucked gently, milking him dry with my hand and my mouth. I swallowed as fast as I could, and got most of it down. The residue that remained in my mouth did not really taste that bad after all. I crawled up beside him in bed and kissed him deeply. Our tongues swirled together, and he drew mine into his mouth.
“Well, what did you think?” he asked.
“I thought you tasted wonderful. I want to do it again, lots of times.”
He smiled at me, and we fell asleep in each other’s arms.
The next morning, Tad was up before me. I showered and put on a robe. He was in the kitchen making coffee. I loved to see him moving in my kitchen. He seemed very much at home. I allowed myself a little fantasy for a few moments.
We had coffee together. I felt so happy to be with him. He looked so good in the morning. I was gazing into his eyes when he said, “Cliff, I have something to tell you.”
His tone jolted me back to reality. “What?” I asked, suddenly anxious.
“The other night, when you called, I wasn’t alone.”
“You weren’t? Who were you with?” I asked the question, but I already knew the answer before he told me.
“Do you remember the doctor I told you about? The one I had a relationship with?”
Tad was holding his coffee cup tightly, and looking down.
“Don’t say it, Tad, please,” was all I could get out.
“You don’t understand, Cliff. He’s separated from his wife. For good this time. He swears he’s never going back to her. He needs me, Cliff.”
“I don’t fucking believe you are saying this, Tad! You are the one who warned me against hurting you! And now this! Shit! He’s probably just going to hurt you again.” I was so hurt and angry that I couldn’t look at him. Tears sprang to my eyes.
“Listen, Cliff. I want you to know that I’ll always…”
“Don’t say it, dammit!” I was suddenly utterly defeated, overcome by hurt. I looked at him. For the first time I noticed that he was fully dressed.
“I suppose I’d better go,” he said, getting up.
“Yes, I suppose you’d better.” I still couldn’t look at him.
I heard the door close and his car start. Then Tad was gone.
I spent the next three weeks in a fog of sorrow. It hurt so bad that I could hardly stand it. Even the people I worked with noticed. My friend Ron, who worked at the courthouse, tried to snap me out of it. We had a “boys’ night out” with beer and football. He even tried to fix me up with his sister. But I had changed. Out of habit, I still looked at women, but they honestly didn’t interest me in the same way as before. Being with Tad had outed me, at least to myself. Not that I was interested in other men—yet. But I found that I could look at women dispassionately now, without being interested in them sexually.
And then, one day at the courthouse, deep into a complicated 40-year search of an obscure property in the middle of nowhere, my cell phone vibrated. It was a text message:
“You were right. I was wrong. Coming back to town. Would love to see you. Can we talk? Please call me. Tad.
With trembling fingers, I dialed his number. It rang. There was a click. “Hello?” he said.