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I knew Jason had a crush on me. Actually several of the gays in this quirky neighborhood tavern discretely eyed me, but Jason in particular. It is a broadly inclusive establishment where all types congregate – straight, gay, lesbian. Who cares? The ambiance is mellow and cheery, definitely not a meat market. But we’re all adults here so let’s be real, people are going to hook-up. Several guys hit on me or just signaled they were available with that open-for-business look. But I felt no desire for a man.
Still, amid that menagerie of characters, Jason was everyone’s favored company. He is a laid-back, affable guy with a smile so quick it seems eternal and a wit that gets sharper with every beer. His hair is full but dusted with gray and his lips are framed by a goatee in a manner I can only describe as graceful. How he was single was a mystery to us all.
On the other hand, I was perpetually single to the astonishment of absolutely no one. I’m a reasonably attractive, personable guy and I have dated more than a few women. Yet none of those encounters had gone anywhere for reasons that always revolved around me and my deep-seated phobia regarding commitment. That aversion manifested in utterly devious ways and has successfully sabotaged every relationship since I was fourteen. Now I’m forty. The age-appropriate women I know have evolved past the casual sex stage of life and instinctually know that I am questionable husband material. Heterosexually speaking, I have been relegated to the Goodwill drop-off box. I am loathe to imagine who might choose me from that collection of discarded, fraying cast-offs.
Yet gay men have always been attracted to me. I don’t know why. I guess I’m the virile type. A big, strong good-time kind of guy with a hearty laugh and wicked smile. My occupation is woodworking; desks, tables, custom doors and bookshelves. I have strong hands with long, articulate fingers that are well suited for intricate work. Maybe that is what incites a certain imagination. I admit the attention is flattering but misplaced. I wish women responded to me the same way my gay friends did.
But things build up inside. And I’m not talking about semen, as urgent as the need to ejaculate might be. I’m talking about that other stuff. The stuff that’s deeply missing. Missing even after the best goddam cumshot of your life. I was more lonely than horny. I examined my life in a broad light. What I realized was so basic I was astounded. How could I have missed this.
I had never made the choice to be heterosexual. My sexuality was not of my choosing. From the cradle on, I had been fashioned to be straight. All the boys in my average small town had. How could something so obvious be so hard to see?
The resulting logic was basic. In order for my sexuality to be of my choosing, I had to entertain other possibilities. Maybe the pursuit of happiness includes discovering where my true sexuality exists on the spectrum of possibility.
It was a Friday Happy Hour so the tavern was a cacophony of bon ami. The stool beside Jason became suddenly vacant and I pounced on it. He and I toasted to the weekend and chatted amiably before toasting the weekend again with another round of beers. We were sitting at the far corner of the bar, an eddy in the social stream, separated from the din. We were having a good conversation, as always with Jason. He has a sense of humor that is tucked within his chitchat. It is so droll most people never hear it. But if you are keyed in, you wind up laughing at the most unexpected things. Jason could really tickle the ivories of barstool babble.
We toasted the weekend again. I looked at him and a voice in the seedy back alley of my brain said: why not? Into the next lull in the conversation, I interjected the only thing I could think of. “You know, I’ve never done anything sexual with a man.”
Jason faked a spit-take and cast a very skeptical look my way. “Really? Never once?”
“No. Why is that such a surprise? Do I come across as being closeted or something?”
“No, you do not. But most guys have messed around at least once. Considering this crowd, I’d guess you might be the lone hold out.”
“Really?” I took a careful scan of the crowd. “Huh, who’d a thunk.”
Jason laughed, “Absolutely every gay man here. Anyway, I interrupted you. I think there was a point behind that true confession.” There was a scintillation in his voice. “What were you about to say?”
The ünye escort bartender came down to check on us and that gave me a moment’s pause. What was I about to say? I mean, I hadn’t exactly planned this. It just felt right. I surfed my welling excitement. And that is what scared me. It was precisely that titillation that concerned me. I know I am absolutely gifted at making horrible mistakes based on impulse. I wavered.
“I forgot my point” I deflected. “Let’s just move on.”
“Let’s not. Tell me. What were you saying?”
“Okay … It’s just … You seem like you’re a very sensuous … is it sensuous or sensual …”
“I think you mean sensual.”
Nervous anticipation gave me a bit of a gut ache, a classic case of schoolboy jitters.
“Anyway, let’s just forget it.”
“No, let’s not. And, yes, I am a sensual guy. A very sensual guy. Now get to the point.”
“Okay, the point is,” I took a deep breath, “I think you are the kind of guy that it would be really nice to be alone with.” Despite the small ocean of beer I had consumed, my throat was painfully dry.
“Is that a compliment?”
“An observation. Or a surmise, is more accurate.”
“Okay. Again, I am that kind of guy. But you still haven’t gotten to your point.”
“Okay. The point is… this is my point … Jesus, why is this so hard?”
“Let me make it easy for you. You’re thinking with the little head in your pants. Your long neglected little head that is Jonesing like a crack whore. The heeby-jeebies in your gonads are eating you alive. You’re hoping for a quick fix.”
“You know, you can be a cynical bastard at times.”
“You’re hoping for a little sensuous fellatio from a sensual guy. A buddy you can come to with your problems. Your horniness problems.”
“Well fuck you, too. You know damn well it’s not like that.”
“I hope not, Marc, but I gotta be honest. I’ve heard that sort of line before from several curious-slash-horny guys that are here tonight. Just look around.”
I took a gander around the room and wondered which of the so-called straight guys had come on to Jason. “Really? Did you do it?”
Jason gave a very disappointed shake of his head and I immediately felt like shit. He said, “I am not the subject of this little chat. You are.”
“Look, Jason, it’s not like that.”
“I hope not. All the ladies maintain that you’re a gentlemen. A totally hopeless gentleman but a gentleman nonetheless.”
I cringed. “I hate to imagine what else they think.”
“Oh, I can tell you if you really want to know. Women confide way too much in gay men.”
I groaned. Jason gave me a teasing smile and a lurid possibility shone in his eyes. I stammered on “I guess it’s like this. We have known each other for years, and, ya know, you’re a great guy, and I enjoy your company, and I know that you have a thing for me.”
Jason feigned a tad of indignation. “You know what? How?”
“Get real, Jason. I know you’ve got a thing for me and, well, I guess I’m saying … I think I might, too.”
There was longing in Jason’s eyes. “You are so close to making your point. Please continue.”
“Well, I think I’d like to be alone with you and see, ya know, where things go. Ya know?”
Jason’s hand drifted off the bar. His fingertips were light as they skated up my inner thigh. “You think?”
I shivered. “No. I’m sure I’d like to be alone with you. To try …”
I think it was his little finger that found the tip of my swelling cock. “You’re right,” he said. “I would like to be alone with you, too. Let’s go to my place.” A lascivious promise suffused the very atoms between us. “It’s time you become one of the guys.”
I motioned to the bartender to tab us both out.
I followed Jason to his place. It was a short drive, just long enough for me to stew in my anxieties. I cautioned myself about acting upon my urges. I imagined rolling down my window when we got there, saying something shamefully lame, then driving off. But this wasn’t an urge, it was a desire. Something had kindled between this man and I. Whether from my loneliness or his gentle charm, there had sprung the promise of fulfilling a primitive, carnal need. By evolutionary design, such desires are meant to be pursued.
As we crossed his threshold, my trepidation almost overcame me. “I’m really nervous right now,” I confessed.
“I’m nervous, too,” Jason said. “But not like you. Mine is şanlıurfa escort anticipation. That’s a good kind of nervous.” He sat me down on the couch. “Now try to relax while I get us some beers.”
I took the opportunity to check out the place. Jason’s walls were graced with paintings and arty photographs. The decor was tasteful – comfortable furniture, shelves of well-read books, scattered memorabilia, and a baby grand piano in the corner.
He handed me a beer as he sat close and turned facing me. “I didn’t know your were a musician,” I said.
His fingers stroked my thigh so slightly that a shiver coursed up my spine. “I play. I don’t know if that makes me a musician.” There was an invitation in his smile that seemed more alluring by the second. “But I love it. And it gives me somewhere to put my emotions when there isn’t a man in my life.”
I slurped some beer. Wanton frontiers of pleasure played out in his eyes. The voice inside my head said this is what you want, this is what you’ve been waiting for. “What about when you have a man in your life?”
“Then I have something to really play about.”
I grinned stupidly at him. “I don’t know what to do.”
He took the beer from my hand and set it aside with his. Then he straddled me. Though a small man, he now towered over me. “Just try to relax. Focus on having fun.” My head was in his hands. “Good, clean fun.” He kissed me.
__________________
I awoke in my own bed still enthralled by the night before. In the shower, I let my recollections take over and I stroked out an orgasm that seemed incredible yet sad compared to the one I had with Jason.
Although it was Saturday, I went to the shop just to keep busy. I spent the morning at my drawing board working on a bid – sketching plans, figuring materials, estimating hours – which meant no power tools were involved. Good thing. No telling what I might have sliced off.
I kept experiencing body rushes, tingling waves that swept over me as images of my adventure with Jason encroached upon my mind. Nothing so exhilarating had ever happened to me before. I realized I was the crack whore that Jason suggested I was. My little head was Jonesing and I needed another fix.
I finally gave up and called him. “When can I see you again.”
I arrived at his door an hour later with my heart already pounding and heat smoldering in my loins. I promised myself that I would not immediately pounce on this delicious man and ravish him with lusty intent. But as soon as the door was shut behind us, it was Jason who pounced. His lips were plush and moist atop mine as his tongue danced in my mouth. Those delicate fingers teased my cock through my jeans. His ass was firm and lush through the slick fabric of the kimono he greeted me in. His hips wriggled, lifting his cheeks to meet my eager hands. I was teetering within the carnal swoon of his arms.
I pushed away, gasping. He strained his lips back towards mine but I abstained. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Can we talk?”
“How about we talk later.” His fingers continued to stroke my craning cock.
I held him at arm’s length. My breath was gasping with desire and I could feel the flush in my face. “Let’s just sit and talk for a minute. Okay? I have questions.”
His satiny robe barely reached his thighs. The orbs of his ass rose and fell with an audible swish and were outlined by the glossy material. I imagined his manhood hidden beneath. He sat close and turned toward me just as he had the night before. His arm reached across the back of the couch and his fingers were lost in my hair. It took all my resolve not to caress the nipples pressed against the slick fabric.
“What is it?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Everything’s great. You’re great. Last night was beyond great. I just need to know, well this is gonna sound stupid but … was I any good?”
“As I recall, you were there. What do you think?”
“I don’t really remember. I mean I recall that it happened but there are parts that are just a blur of, well, ecstasy.”
“And you want to know how you performed?”
“Yes.”
“Well, since you ask … You were a very good sexual partner,” he said, “right up to the moment your cock penetrated me.”
“Oh god, this isn’t going to be good. But go on.”
“You really want to hear it?”
“I asked, didn’t I?”
“Okay, Well first let me re-iterate, I think you were ürgüp escort a really good lover until …”
“Oh god …”
“Let’s just say that I know what your spirit animal is.”
“My what? Don’t tell me. I’m guessing it can’t be the bull. Or the Ram. Oh god, don’t tell me it’s the fish.”
“You’re thinking of the zodiac. No, your spirit animal.”
“Okay so what’s my spirit animal?”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Actually no, but yes.
“The rabbit.”
“Oh shit. I knew it was gonna be bad but …” Jason couldn’t have heard the rest because I had rolled away from him and buried my face in a throw pillow.
Jason pulled me back. His hand kneaded my pecs. “It was your first time and I’m only talking about the finish. Again, I loved your touch and for the first time with a man’s cock in your mouth you were amazing.”
“On the way over yesterday, I gave myself a pep talk because I knew I was going to have to blow you at some point. So I told myself I just needed to man up about it. I didn’t expect that I would find your cock so … entrancing. It fascinated me. I couldn’t look away. And once I held it in my hand, I just wanted to kiss it, and run my tongue over it, and suck it deep. I was surprised by that.”
“I’m glad you like mine because I absolutely love yours. It’s the perfect length and girth for me. And your cockhead is so pillowy and plush.”
“No women ever complimented my cock that way.”
“No women ever wanted your cock that way.”
“Rabbit man and all?”
“It was your first time. You got carried away.”
“I wish I could remember.”
“Well, tell me what you do remember.”
“I remember how you tasted.”
“Did you like my taste?”
“I did. I expected to gag and spit but I didn’t. I actually liked it.”
“And then what?”
“I looked up at you, and you looked so content, utterly content, and your eyes looked into mine, and your gaze was, like, so serene yet so full of, I don’t know, desire. Desire for me. I remember wanting to kiss you but I figured you wouldn’t want to, you know, because …”
“Because why?”
“Well because, you know, my mouth must have tasted like your splooge.”
“Didn’t matter. Didn’t care. You had just done something marvelous and sweetly intimate for me and all I wanted was your kiss.”
“I’ve gone down on a lot of women …”
“I know. They told me you were quite good at eating pussy.”
“Oh, God. They told you that?”
“And so much more. Women really do confide way too much with gay men.”
“But they never looked at me they way you do.”
“They never wanted you the way I do. What happened next?”
“I crawled up and kissed you. We held each other and kissed for, like, forever.”
“And?”
“I don’t know. Things get kind of vague at that point.”
“Do you remember how you finally laid me on my back and crawled on top of me?”
“That sounds about right.”
“And I spread my legs for you and wrapped them around your waist?”
“That’s right. I definitely remember that.”
“And how I reached around and guided you and told you to go slow?”
“I guess I remember that but it’s all so vague. What happened next?”
“You entered me slowly. You eyes began to gape and you made funny little moaning noises until you were deep inside me.”
“I guess I remember that.”
“And you got very still, just like I’d asked, and I started clutching your cock with my core muscles, over and over. Do you remember that.”
“No. I guess I blacked out. Like the pleasure was so intense.”
“Are you aware that I have your cock out now and I’m stroking it?”
I looked down and saw his delicate fingers caressing my hardness. The tip was slick with pre-cum. I suddenly realized that the feelings that were coursing through me were tactile as well as the ephemera of remembrance.
“No. When did you … how long have …”
“Several minutes. You were overcome. Lost in your carnal fugue.”
“Well, what happened next?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Yes. what happened next?”
“You closed your eyes and went all rabbit-man on me for all of ten seconds. Then you turned purple and pressed deep inside, obviously ejaculating. Then you collapsed.”
“That was it?”
“Well, there was the matter of your drooling on me but I am too gentlemanly to mention that.”
“Oh. God.”
“I thought it was adorable. Just like how you are mortified and erect at the same time right now.”
“Oh God. I don’t know what to say.”
Jason straddled me and guided my cock once again. “Don’t say anything. Just let me ride you. Relax and I’ll I’ll fuck you this time.”
Then I just kind of blacked out, over-whelmed by ecstasy.
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