This is a story about a continuing relationship between two men in New York City. It includes explicit homosexual acts. If you are underage or find such material distasteful, please read no further.
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The people and events in the story are totally fictitious, but actual locales are used to add realism.
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Copyright 2015 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.
AT FIRST SIGHT
by Macout Mann
III
I can hardly wait until the buzzer says "Wilbur is here." I do hope he'll come. How can that be? I've never given a shit about any dude before. If a trick doesn't show up, there're always others right down the fucking street.
I've dressed in my best threads. I know he'll want to go someplace nice. It's almost seven.
The buzzer sounds. I allow him to enter without asking, "Who is it?" I hope I know. I open the door and there he is.
"Oh good" he says. "You're ready. The taxi's waiting downstairs."
"The Waldorf," he tells the cabbie.
"Going first class, are we?" I joke
"When we came to New York, when I was growing up, sometimes we stayed at the Waldorf and sometimes at the Plaza. I love them both, but for steak, it's the Bull & Bear at the Waldorf."
At the restaurant, we both have cocktails followed by the Lobster and Mushroom Chowder. I opt for the Beef Tournedos, Wilbur for the Rack of Lamb. With the Potatoes au Gratin, Sorbet, and Coffee we both have, the bill easily comes to three hundred dollars.
"Well someday I may be able to afford your lifestyle," I say, "that is, if my old man doesn't find out for sure that I'm gay. I'd be disinherited for sure.
"He's got my kid brother all primed to take over running the ranch, and he'll be great doing it. Loves to run things just like Dad does. Dad's always thought my being a singer was sissy."
"Fortunately I had a trust fund which I came into when I was twenty-five," Wilbur says. "The income is more than enough for my needs, and I have a CFP who takes care of the principal for me."
After dinner we take a cab to Wilbur's apartment. It's in a building on St. Mark's Place in the East Village. Definitely not an efficiency designed for a poverty-stricken bachelor. He pours us both a whiskey on the rocks, Scotch for him, Bourbon for me. We chat about nothing in particular. Then he says, "You know, Jack, I really like you. You make me feel so comfortable."
"Funny," I respond, "I feel the same way."
He leads me into his bedroom, and we slowly undress each other. Sort of a strip tease, but one where we are not just stripping each other, but are arousing ourselves at the same time that we are enticingly undressing our partner. Once naked we stimulate each other's erogenous zones with hands and with lips. For some reason I want Wilber to have the most exotic experience he has ever had. That's sure what I'm having.
We taste each other's shaft. He leaks an unbelievable amount of precum, which gratefully I swallow. He tongues me in all the right places, swallowing my pebbles and piercing my piss slit, then rhythmically massages my thick pole with his beautiful lips. I hold off as long as I can and then dump an amazing amount of my tasty cream into his hungry mouth. I emulate his actions. We make the perfect team.
"I want your dick up my ass always," he whispers.
"It wants to be there right now," I answer.
"Oh fuck yes," he cries.
I spear his hole and ram my sword to the hilt. "Oh, yes," he moans. "Fuck me, Jack. Fuck me hard!"
I wake up the next morning to the wonderful odors of coffee and Cheese Danish.
"Wake up, sleepy head," Wilbur cries. "We need to have breakfast, then fuck some more, before I have to go and try to accomplish something."
We each leave a gift in the other's colon before we shower and set out. Wilbur's shower is much better fitted for communal showers than mine is.
I walk the several blocks to my pad and relax until time to go to Asti. I can't stop thinking about Wilbur.
The night at the restaurant is routine. Afterward I go in search of some action. Maybe another dude's ass will take my mind off of Wilbur. I pick up a college student, take him to my place and fuck him. He seems to like it a whole lot more than I do. I'm thinking he's not nearly as good as Wilbur is. I don't invite him to spend the night.
I wake up about 9:30. Have coffee and cereal. I can't help but call Wilbur.
"Hello?"
"Hi. It's me."
"Oh thank god! I was so afraid you wouldn't call. I didn't think I should keep on being the `forward one.' But...goddamn it, Jack! I think I love you. I can't get you off my mind."
"Same here, dude. I fucked some kid last night, and wished it was you."
"Will you come over after you get off tonight?" he pleads.
"Try and stop me," I say.
When he rings me up from the entrance at around 11:30, I get off the elevator and knock on his door. He opens it to reveal himself in all his naked glory. I don't resist. I take him in my arms, and for the first time in my life I institute a French kiss. It's not "manly," but I don't give a shit. This is my fucking guy! And I am his!
It takes a month before he says that I might as well move in with him. My lease still has five months to go.
"You can use it for one-nighters, when you need a break from me," he laughs.
"I tried that and it doesn't work," I tease. "Maybe we can use it, if we want to pretend we've just met."
"One at a time in the shower!" he teases.
"Oh fuck!" Tears actually flow down my cheeks. "I can't believe how much I love you!"
"I knew you were the one for me when you first spoke to me at Asti."