Barry
Chapter 1
The coffee tasted good but it wasn't good enough to improve the depressed state I was in. Looking out my kitchen window at the dim gray landscape, I felt as miserable as I ever had. The realization that my wife was gone forever was still a shock every morning when I awoke. After 30 years of marriage I guess it will take more than three months to get over losing her.
I did love her, in a way, even though the last 20 years was not all wedded bliss. Most of the love and respect that we shared during our first 10 years had deteriorated significantly. In the end, we just tolerated each other's existence in the same house. Although her death was not my fault (she died of kidney cancer) I still couldn't help feeling guilty about the way we had lived the last few years.
Our lovemaking had gone to zero 15 years ago. I searched for love with other women, trying to satisfy the fire that still burned in my loins. But it was not fulfilling. More and more my fantasies involved thoughts of when I was young and had 'experimented' with other teenage boys. Now, it seems that every time I walk through the mall I see hunky young men and get so excited that I would have to go to the men's room to make adjustments to my cock. During some of these moments of passion I would step into the nearest stall and jack off while dreaming of sucking their cocks. After release I would have guilt feelings, thinking that I had become a sexual pervert. But the fantasies and dreams continued and I readily succumbed to the pleasure they provided me. After all, a 53-year old man can still be horny!
Well, I thought, this is still a good day to go to the bookstore and find a book to curl up with and pass the time until better weather came and I could get out on the golf course. Golf had become my passion and I was on the course every day, weather permitting. Sometimes I even played when the temperature was below zero! At least I could bounce the ball across the frozen ponds on those days!
Looking out the window again I noticed that the rain had tapered off a bit but the temperature still huddled around 40 degrees. Too cold and too wet for golf. Yep, a good day for reading. Barnes & Noble was my favorite bookstore and they had a great coffee shop where I could get a bowl of soup and read my book among people who probably were as lonely as myself. I believe that most of the customers in the coffee shop were there just to be in the company of others. The drive to the mall was only a short five minutes and I was in the bookstore browsing before the car could heat up. I scanned the newspaper headlines at the news stand. "Victory for Bush" screamed the Washington Post. Thank God that's over, I thought. The media blitz over the past month about the delay in selecting a new president was really getting on my nerves. I picked up a copy of the Post plus a couple of magazines and headed for the New Books section. The first thing that caught my eye was a book titled "Oscar Wilde, A Certain Genius" by Barbara Belford. I have always been interested in books about Oscar Wilde and picked it up to read the description. This will be a good book to read on a day like this, I thought, and proceeded to the cashier.
After paying for my purchases, I headed straight for the coffee shop. Walking up to the counter, a movement to my right caught my eye and I glanced over to the window tables. My breath caught in my throat and I nearly strangled on my own saliva as I stared at the most beautiful man I had ever seen! God, was he ever handsome! He looked up at me with a half smile and I quickly looked away, embarrassed at being caught. I must have blushed profusely because the girl behind the counter asked if I was all right. Choking, I said that I was ok. Just a little feverish. Man, was that an understatement! The lust in my groin was overwhelming and it took me a few seconds to regain my composure. I ordered chicken noodle soup and coffee and took my purchases to a table several feet away. Now, most people sit facing the window so they can look out and see the activity on the sidewalk. I deliberately chose the seat facing back toward the young Adonis who had smiled at me and caused me to be so flustered. Looking up I saw him looking back at me, still with that beguiling smile on his face. Again I became flustered and blushed, hating myself for being intimidated by this man. What is wrong with me? I'd never had this happen before and here I was acting like a infatuated teenager. My hand literally shook as I tried to bring the spoonful of soup to my lips. Soup splashed over the sides of the spoon and dripped down my chin. No napkin, I realized with horror! Jumping up I nearly overturned the table and in the process spilled more soup. My God, Tommy, I thought, get a grip! Finally I was able to settle down and clean up my mess. Sneaking another peak at my Godlike friend, I noticed that he was fervently reading and making notes in a small book. This gave me an opportunity to really look him over while he was engrossed in his work.
He was tall, over six feet judging by the way his knees almost touched the underside of the table. His black hair was neatly combed and his facial features were what writers like to refer to as 'chiseled.' Cleanshaven, his high cheekbones and arched eyebrows lead down to an aquiline nose set above lips that were slightly turned up at the corners, like the Mona Lisa. Was he smiling at what he was reading or was it amusement at my antics? I hoped it was because of me, in spite of my embarrassment. I wondered if he had this effect on all men and women and he was smiling because he realized that he could do this to others. My eyes dropped down to a light blue shirt that covered wide shoulders and a strong upper body with no hair showing in the vee of his open collar. The cuffs of his long sleeved shirt were rolled up halfway to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms and strong hands. Looking down further under the table his long legs were encased in old faded jeans with frayed cuffs and pockets. They fit him snug and the bulge in his crotch was proof positive of a well-endowed stud that caused my own cock to stir and swell. He had long feet in a pair of well-worn sneakers, further proof that he was packing a lot of goody! His legs were spread wide, as though he was showing off what he had. I fantasized about crawling on my hands and knees to his table and nuzzling my face in that seductive package. That really brought me to full tumescence and I squirmed trying to free my swelling cock from it's confines.
I must have stared at his body (especially that inviting crotch!) for several minutes, caught in a dream fantasy of what it would be like to be naked and pressing my body against his. Slowly his right hand went to his crotch and he fondled himself, probably attempting to rearrange his packege.
My eyes widened and my cock rose to new heights as I stared at what he was doing to himself. My mouth hung open and drool started spilling out the corners. Suddenly, my reverie was broken and he turned as though he was getting up. I looked up at his gorgeous face and saw him staring straight at me with that shit-eating grin! Again I blushed and dropped my eyes to my soup which by now was getting cold. Flushed and sweating, I pushed the bowl aside and pulled out the Oscar Wilde book, pretending that I was very interested in it. As I stared at the opening page, not really reading but in a daze, I felt a presence by my table and slowly looked up. I knew before my eyes reached that wondrous body that it was him.
"Excuse me," a strong but gentle masculine voice said, "I see you like reading Oscar Wilde too. Is that a new book about him?"
"Er, ah," I stammered, "yes it is. I think it's just been published." What a stupid thing to say! Of course it's just published if it's new. I blushed for a fourth time. My mind raced to say something more to keep him there but I couldn't get any words out.
"Who's the author?" he asked.
"Oh, ah, it's, ah... let's see, I think it's B-b-barbara" I stammered. "Uh, Belford! Barbara Belford!" I finally got it out.
"Do you mind if I look at it a minute? I think I may buy it."
"Uh, no," I said holding it out for him. His fingers touched mine and the electricity shooting through my body almost gave me a stroke.
"Thanks," he said and tried to take the book from me. My hand stayed where it was, not wanting to move away from the charge that it just received. "Ah," he grinned, "I promise to return it."
"Oh shit," I blurted, "I'm sorry. Here. Why don't you sit down while you look it over?" I said, finally getting my wits about me and gesturing for him to take a chair at my table.
"Thanks," he said with a brilliant smile that melted my heart. I expected him to take the chair across from me but when he came around and sat beside me I was ecstatic! Then I noticed his scent. It was Polo Sport, one of my favorites, and I almost swooned when he pressed his forearm against mine as he opened the book.
"I've read Richard Ellmann's biography of Oscar Wilde. Did you know that it was the basis for the movie 'Wilde'?" he asked, looking into my eyes. His eyes were a deep blue, like the proverbial pools that one gets lost in.
"Uh, yeah," I stammered again, not able to take my eyes away from his. "I saw the movie."
"I did too and I even bought the video so I could take it home and study it.
I can't really concentrate on a movie in the theater."
"Yeah," I said, "I wish that I had done that. Maybe I will go out and buy the video."
"Well, I'm afraid they're all sold out. A friend of mine tried to get one and the video stores said that it had been discontinued."
"Oh" I said. "Well, maybe they'll reissue it again someday." Reissue? Again? Come on Tommy, my thoughts stormed in my mind, get it together!
"Tell you what," he exclaimed "why don't you come over to my place and I'll make you a copy? I've got the setup to copy videos and it wouldn't take long to do that. Unless of course you're busy and can't make it today?"
"Oh man," I sighed "that'll be great. No, I don't have anything planned. I sure can't go golfing in this weather so I was just going to go home and read."
"You're a golfer? That's great! So am I," he said excitedly. "Where do you play?"
Uh oh, I thought, next he'll want to know my handicap and he's probably a scratch golfer and I'll be too embarrassed to tell him that I'm a 12. "I play over at the Country Club," I said in a meek voice.
"Really?! No shit! Oh, sorry man, didn't mean to say that. It just slipped out."
I laughed and said "No problem. I say it all the time, especially when I hit a bad shot!"
"I know what you mean," he grinned. "I just started playing last summer. I've been playing at the municipal course on the other side of town. I've never played the Country Club. I hear it's a great course but probably too hard for a beginner."
By this time I was relaxed and the conversation took on an air of camaraderie between old friends. But my eyes continued to devour him as they scanned his luscious body. He noticed what I was doing but didn't say anything, letting me drink him in with everything in my being.
"Well, what do you say? Should we go to my house and make you a copy of the video?" he asked with a certain amount of excitement in his voice.
"Well, I don't want to impose on you," I said, adding "Your wife may have something else she wants you to do."
He laughed loudly and said, "My wife? Man, I'm not married. Got engaged once but found out it wasn't for me just two days before the wedding. Boy, was she pissed when I told her I didn't want to get married" continuing to laugh. "Come on," he said rising out of his chair, "let's go. I'll even give you a beer and maybe we can have some fun!"
As he said that last sentence I saw a grin and, was that a wink? My heart leaped and I thought that maybe there was more to this casual acquaintance than I originally thought. But why me? I've got to be at least twice his age. Could he really be interested in an old fart like me? My thoughts raced to think of some reason why this young stud, who could have anyone he wanted, would really be interested in me.
"By the way," he said holding out his hand for a shake, "I'm Barry Wilkinson."
"Art," I said grabbing the strong hand and again feeling the electricity course through me, "Art Thomas. But my friends call me Tommy."
"OK, then, Tommy it is," and he pressed my palm causing me to nearly faint.
As we stood to leave I noticed immediately that my head came to just below his chin. "Man, you are tall," I gushed.
"Six five" he replied. "And yes, the weather up here is just as bad as it is down there, maybe moreso" he laughed.
I couldn't get enough of this very tall, very warm and happy young man. My whole body seemed to be lifted as we exited the bookstore and he put his firm hand on my shoulder as he held the door for me. My spirits had done a complete 180 from this morning when I was feeling sorry for myself. I silently thanked God for bringing this wonderful person into my life, just when I needed him the most. Whether we remained simply friends, as I was sure we would, or something more would ensue, I was content now just to be with him. The clouds had broken up and the sun was beginning to peek out. You could feel the air warming up as we made our way to the parking lot. Was this an omen of things to come?
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