This is the fictional memoir of a gay man, told in the first person. Some of the stories in this series are based on actual experiences, usually embellished a lot, as well as completely fictional ones. They depict sex between consenting adult males. If this offends you, do not read them. These are my stories. Please respect the copyright. If you enjoy them, let me know at johntheartist@hotmail.com. Please Contribute to Nifty.org and keep this wonderful resource going!
In the previous chapter, C'est La Vie! 12, I described how I had hooked up with a man, Randy, I met in a gay movie theater and went with him to his hotel for some hot sex, then went out for dinner and back to the hotel for an all-night session.
C'est La Vie!: 1988, Birthday Celebration
After graduation from university in the Midwest in 1982, I spent a couple of years in New York, going to galleries and museums, making friends with some young artists, hanging out in art bars and sampling the sexual delights of a young gay man in New York. I decided, though, that I needed to further my education as an artist and enrolled in an MFA program in Philadelphia. So I moved there in 1984.
After grad school, I decided to stay in Philly. There was a vibrant art scene, I had lots of friends there now--gay and straight--and living and working space was cheap. In fact, the death of an aunt left me--her favorite nephew--some money that was enough to buy cheaply a four-story building in Philly's Old City neighborhood, an area of restaurant supply firms, used wood-working machinery shops and a variety of other mostly industrial suppliers in 110-plus-year-old buildings. Artists were just beginning to discover the work spaces there. Living was still strictly speaking illegal, but was usually overlooked, and legislation was working itself through city council to make it legal and help revive the neighborhood. The space was ideal for an energetic young artist with some building skills. Over the last four years, I had renovated the building with an open-plan apartment on the top floor (with a roof-deck and a view!), a third-floor studio, and two rental loft-style apartments on the ground floor. There was even parking in the back accessed by a narrow side street!
So it was 1988 and I was turning 30. Maybe not the most important birthday, but kind of a milestone nonetheless. My profession was doing well, and so I didn't have to worry about money. I was finally losing the baby fat in my cheeks and though I still looked boyish (I had just been carded at a bar!), I was finally filling out, my features looking a little more chiseled, and when I worked out at the gym, instead of just getting strong and staying skinny, I was actually able to put on a little bulk, and now I had a nice set of arms, abs and pecs. I might not have been the best looking guy on the block, but finding other guys to play with was pretty easy, looking back on it now.
I decided to take off a week for my birthday--the middle of April--and go to San Francisco, my favorite gay destination. I arrived at SFO in the middle of a Friday afternoon, and by 4:30, I had my rental car and was checking into my favorite motel on upper Market St., a couple of blocks from Castro, the historic center of the gay neighborhood.
I planned to spend the days visiting friends, grazing in SF's ethnic restaurants, and taking little trips to Marin County, and the Napa and Sonoma wine country, or driving the coast down to Santa Cruz. The evenings would be devoted to as much sex as I could find: at the Castro bars, the baths in San Jose and Berkeley, the sex club a couple of blocks away on market, and of course, cruising the motel at night, which, from experience, could be very productive.
After checking in, I unpacked, and spread out my sex supplies and toys on the dresser --a pump bottle of lube, a couple of fresh bottles of poppers, a selection of condoms. I had brought, among other things, a nice double-ended dong, and a 10" dildo thick as a beer can. I stripped and hopped into the shower, where I spent fifteen minutes washing outside, and inside too, in hopeful preparation for some evening fun. Then I put on jeans and a T-shirt and around 5, went out on the balcony to take a look at what was up.
I left my door open, and leaned against the railing in the warm afternoon sun. My room was on the third floor, opening off the balcony, the first door from the elevator at the corner of the U-shaped building.
I had been there a few minutes when I saw a sports car drive in and park, and the driver get out to go into the motel office. From where I was, he was not bad looking. While he was in the office, I looked around. On the second floor balcony to my left, a middle-aged man with a belly came out of his room, looked around and when he saw me, clutched his crotch. Not now, I thought, and shook my head. I saw curtains moving at some second and third floor rooms, and I knew that they were beginning the search for partners to start the weekend.
Meanwhile, the sports-car guy came out of the office, and retrieved a weekend duffle from his car, and walked over to the corner where the elevator was. Walking in my direction, he looked pretty good, but it was hard to tell from the third floor. He disappeared from view, and a couple of minutes later, I heard the elevator open on my right, and he stepped out. He was wearing chinos, penny loafers, a light blue button-down shirt and a blazer. Despite the preppy clothing, he looked handsome, and well built: a couple of inches shorter than me, and some pounds heavier, but nice and solid. A craggy masculine face, a little gray at the temples, maybe 40 or a little older, and I thought pretty tasty looking.
He walked toward me from the elevator alcove, with a confident, masculine stride, and smiled as he met my eyes for a second or two. He checked the number on his room key, and unlocked the door of the 2nd room down the balcony at right angles to my right. As he went in, he turned and smiled again. This could be interesting I thought.
I decided to wait a little, and went back to my position by the railing, watching the movements of the doors and curtains of the rooms I could see on the second and third floors. A couple of guys walked by and nodded, but nothing really interesting.
About twenty minutes later, I was about to go back into my room, when the curtains of the room two doors down to the right opened, and I saw him standing there. His preppy costume had been traded for a pair of 501s and a T-shirt that was tight enough to show off a great chest, and biceps that filled the sleeves so that they were pulled tight over his arms.
My interest was suddenly aroused, as was my cock, which started rapidly swelling in my pants. His gaze scanned the rest of the complex, and finally settled on me again. He smiled and ran a hand over his firm chest and down his abs. He held my gaze. I did the same and licked my lips. His hand moved to his crotch, and pushed the cloth of his jeans around a bulge, revealing a nice, thick erection. I smiled, licked my lips again, and turned to go into my room, leaving the door open, an invitation for him to join me.
I stood at the foot of the bed, between the bed and the mirror over the dresser, and listened as I heard a door open and close, footsteps coming closer, and then saw him standing in my door.
"Can I come in?"
"Yeah." He stepped inside, closed the door and threw the latch.
He came over to me, and put his hands on my hips. I put my hands on his chest, feeling the hard muscle underneath. He whispered "I'm so fuckin' horny, I can't stand it."
I started to tease him. "So, where you from, man?"
"Shit, we can do the introductions later," he said, and pulled me into a deep-throat kiss.
He pressed his muscular body against mine, our cocks grinding together through our jeans. We were both desperate for hot action, and I knew that, though this encounter would be very satisfying, it would be quick. We were both way too horny to make it last, and anyway, I was thinking about getting out after dinner and finding some hot younger guy for a few hours--or even a night--of mutual pleasure.
I pushed him away slightly, my lips still working on his, so that I could run my hands down his chest and abs, and feel that hard body's details. He was running his hands up and down my back and thrusting his pelvis into mine, grinding our erections together in small circular motions.
"Turn around," I said, and he complied, turning to face the mirror over the dresser.
"I like your collection," he said softly, eyeing my toys and shoving his ass back at my cock and grinding it some more.
"HmmmmÉ," I said, "no reason not to have a little fun with it if you want."
"Yeah," he sighed, as I put my arms around him, and let both hands move slowly down over his chest and belly, as I nuzzled his neck, him leaning his head back on my shoulder.
I kissed and tongued his ear, as I gently pulled his T-shirt slowly up to reveal a nice defined set of abs, and pulled it over his head to show a smooth chest which was carefully shaved, probably in the few minutes before he came to my room. He leaned his head back, and our mouths met as I lowered my hands and unbuttoned his waist and then his fly.
I stepped away from him a little and ran my hands down his arms, feeling his hard biceps. He obliged by raising his arms and flexing for me, to feel his muscle. I looked at his beautiful back. I find a hot back a real turn-on, with thoughts of fucking a guy lying on his stomach and feeling his back muscles working beneath me as we couple.
I knelt behind him and pulled his jeans down his muscular thighs, and worked them over his hard calves, pushing them to the floor so that he could step out of them. I was delighted to see that he was wearing a jock-strap, and while I was kneeling behind him, I took the opportunity to gently part his cheeks and get a look at and kiss his puckered ass. It, too, was hairless, the product of careful shaving, nice and clean, smelling of soap.
I stood up again, pulling his body to me, and kissing his neck and I looked in the mirror at his beautiful, mature, man's body, his erection clearly outlined in his jock. Slowly, my hands descended over his torso and then brushed lightly against his erection, as I whispered in his ear, "Hot body, babe."
He sighed with satisfaction and turned around again to kiss me. I lightly cupped my hands around his cock and balls, as he worked his hands under my shirt and pushed it up. Then I raised my arms so that he could work it off over my head. He let his knuckles trace lightly over my torso, whispering, "So young, so smooth, so sexyÉ"
He then unbuttoned my waist, and lowered my zipper. He pulled me to him for more kisses as he plunged his hands under my jeans and around my firm ass, pushing down to lower them to mid-thigh. We parted briefly, and I worked my jeans off by stepping on the hems of the legs and pulling my feet out.
We stood a little apart, each gently reaching out to feel the other's cocks through the fabric covering them. I was wearing low-rise white briefs, and my cock, around 7" and average thickness, lay to the side, creating a hard ridge under the fabric. His cock was shorter, probably about 6", but nice and thick, pointing straight up toward his navel. A mouth-full, but perfect for deep-throating. We kissed once more and I said "Sit on the bed."
He complied, and I knelt on the floor in front of him, pushing his legs apart. They were pleasantly covered with a nice, but not too heavy, crop of hair. I leaned forward and started to mouth his cock through the fabric of his jock. He smelled clean and slightly soapy, fresh from the shower.
He moaned and thrust his cock eagerly up into my face, leaning back on his elbows to watch me. I worked it that way for a couple of more minutes, and then slowly raised the elastic over his erection, and pulled it over, freeing it so that it stood up at a sharp angle against his abdomen. I pulled the jock strap all the way off, revealing a beautiful set of large, shaved balls. I slipped his jock over his feet, looked up into his eyes, and I kissed his balls, ran my tongue up the underside of his cock, licked back and forth at the sensitive spot just under the head, kissed the tip, and gradually let my lips descend all the way to his balls with soft, teasing pressure.
He moaned a loud moan of happiness, and I started to work up and down on his cock, enjoying his hard, warm flesh in my mouth, glancing up to see the look of bliss on his face, his eyes half-closed, his hips moving up and down gently to meet my mouth.
I only sucked him a couple of minutes, when he pulled me up into a deep kiss. "I'm so horny that I'm gonna shoot soon, the way you're goin'," he said.
"I'll take it slower and edge you for a while, OK?" I said, and went back down on him. As I sucked his cock, he gradually raised his legs, and I ran my hands over his muscular thighs, and then under them to his belly and chest, working his nipples softly as I sucked. Again, he pulled me off as he got too close.
We kissed some more, and when I went back to work on his cock, I reached around on the dresser for the bottle of lube, pressed the plunger to lube my hand and started working around his ass, massaging his puckered hole, and gently slipping the tip of my middle finger in. That brought loud moans and more eager thrusts from him. He pulled me off again, and this time, instead of kissing his lips, I moved my mouth to the inside of his thighs, kissing and licking up and down, alternating with his balls, while I slipped a second finger in his ass and he gasped in pleasure.
My own cock was throbbing almost painfully in my briefs, and I worked them down my thighs to get some relief from the pressure, as I edged him and worked his ass, before taking his cock back into my mouth.
In only about 15 seconds, he pulled me off again, saying "I'm so fuckin' close man, but I don't want this to end so soon."
I moved up to kiss him again, and whispered "How would you like to have a little fun with my dildo?"
"Oh yeah," he said in a husky voice.
I stood up and got the thick 10" dildo off the dresser, a nice job that was really fleshy feeling, almost natural in its heft and suppleness. Kicking off my briefs, I stood in front of him, my erection pointing up at a sharp angle, hard and throbbing. I took the dildo in one hand and squeezed a good dollop of lube on the other, than faced him, working the lube up and down the shaft like a slow hand job as he watched, his eyes shining expectantly.
"Ready?" I asked.
"Oh yeah," was his reply and he hooked his hands around his ankles to pull his legs up and apart for the best access to his ass. I reached around on the dresser for a bottle of poppers, and handed to him saying, "These might help." He unscrewed the bottle cap, and took a deep whiff on each nostril, then recapped the bottle.
I positioned the dildo at his hole and whispered "Just relax, baby, and enjoy yourself." He sighed gently and then moaned louder as I eased the first inch in, then another inch and popped it past his sphincter. He gasped, and opened the bottle for another hit, before relaxing completely, as I gradually shoved it up to the hilt, and he closed his eyes and looked almost like he had died and gone to heaven.
A few more thrusts, slow and even, and I bent forward to take his hard cock in my mouth again. He started working his ass against the dildo and his cock in and out of my mouth, and I knew it wouldn't be long for him, and indeed, about fifteen seconds later, he gasped "Ohmigod, oh fuck, ooohhhhh," and began pumping his cum into my mouth, a copious load of warm, tasty semen.
I kept up sucking and slowly fucking him with the dildo for about another minute, and as he gradually lowered his legs, I pulled it out and moved up to kiss him, and he gasped to regain his breath.
I was still so horny that I was almost bursting, but I decided to take a short break with him before getting my satisfaction.
We moved to the head of the bed, him on his back, me on my side, with a leg over his thigh, my cock against his hip, my hand on his still-hard cock. We went into a series of soft kisses and caresses, as he unwound.
"Introduction time now?" I asked playfully.
"Sure," he said.
"John, from Philadelphia," I said.
"Dan," he offered, "from outside Sacramento. What do you do John?"
"I'm an artist," I said, "painter, drawing, some prints. Sometimes I get design and illustration jobs for the money, but my work has been selling well lately and I hope I can keep that up, knock on wood. You?"
"I'm a high school gym teacher and coach," he said.
"Wow," I said, "that must be a lot of temptation, all those nice young athletic bodies."
"Yeah, it is," he said, "but I really like the job and want to keep it, so at home I live quietly in the closet and get my satisfaction with my hand. Probably some of the folks there think I'm gay, since I am not married and don't have a girlfriend, but I think as long as I keep hands off the boys, they are at least enlightened enough not to bother me or ask questions. That, and my teams have a pretty good record of winning. That counts a lot in smaller towns."
"So, what do you coach?" I asked.
"Football, basketball and track," he said.
"And so you come down here to have your fun?" I said.
"Whenever I can. Of course during some of the sports seasons, I often can't get down for a weekend, but I do drive down to Berkeley to the Steamworks for an afternoon of hot fun some Sundays during the sports seasons, or come down late on a Saturday after the games are over. Otherwise, I check in here every few weeks for a weekend of play. I have a couple of regular fuck buddies that I see too, so it's not a bad compromise between job and personal life."
"And yet, there are all those hot, young eighteen-year-olds," I said.
"Yeah, too bad," he said, smiling ruefully. "Actually, I did have a related experience earlier this year."
"Yeah? What?" I said, intrigued.
"Well, I was down here on one of my periodic trips, and hanging out in one of the Castro Street bars, where younger guys are often in search of daddies. At the other end of the room was a tall young man I recognized, and before I could duck out, he saw me and came over. He had been one of the best players on my basketball team about ten years ago, and at that time, he was a real looker: 6'6', about 220 lbs of tight body, and when I saw him in the showers, I could see how well hung he was. I lusted after him then, but of course, I did nothing. As I said, I really like the job. Ten years later, he looked even better. Boyish still, but much more mature and confident looking.
"This time, though, he saw me, a look of surprise on his face, and then a smile. He said something to the guy he was with, another hot-looking kid in his 20s, and came over to me. `Hey coach,' he said, 'I didn't know you came to places like this.'
I told him that I didn't exactly want to get myself in hot water at home. He said, `That's cool. My lips are sealed. Actually, I'm a coach now too, and prefer not to have my personal life public too.'"
"So, the long and short of it was that he invited me to join him and his friend for the evening, and we all ended up back here at this motel for the night of hot three-way sex. I've seen him a couple of times since, and he really is something. By the way, why are in San Francisco?"
"I decided to take a week to celebrate my 30th birthday, see some old friends, eat a lot of good food, and pig out on as much sex as I can get," I said.
"Geez," he said, "I wouldn't have taken you for over 27 or 28. How do you do it?"
"Dunno," I said, "genes I guess."
"Well, you will have no problem getting all the men you want this week. I'm envious."
"What?" I exclaimed, "You're really hot. I would think you can get all the sex you want too!"
"Well, I am getting older, and the lines in my face and gray in my hair sometimes don't help with getting the young guys into bed."
"Well, Dan," I replied, "experience trumps youth most of the time, though maybe when I am your age, I will feel the same. Hey, I told you my age, you tell me yours."
"Just turned 45 a month ago," he said.
"I guessed 40," I said, and he looked pleased, and gave me a big smile.
With that, I sought out his lips again and thrust my hard cock up against his hip. I held his cock in my hand again, and as we kissed, it rapidly stiffened.
"My turn for some satisfaction," I said and rolled over on top of him, our mouths still hungrily devouring each other. I helped to prop him up on some pillows at the head of the bed, and then gradually moved up, straddling his chest, and thrusting my hard cock between his pecs as he held it down with his hand.
I moved up a little farther, and he took me in his mouth and I slowly started to face fuck him. He was an eager cock-sucker and quite skillful, and he didn't gag as I shoved my whole length down his throat. He worked my balls with one of his hands while I fucked his face, and the other one stroked my leg, and then sought out my asshole, probing it slightly. As I picked up speed, the hand on my balls went to his own cock, and started pumping away as I pounded his throat.
A few seconds later, I was over the cliff, pumping hot cum into his throat. I kept my cock there after I came, and he rapidly pumped himself to another climax.
When we were done, I fell back into his arms, and this time we both dozed off for fifteen minutes or so, before finally stirring to life again. It was only six o'clock now, a faster session than I usually like, but really good nonetheless.
We kissed and got up to get dressed. I asked how long he was in town, and he told me through Sunday afternoon. But, he said that if we wanted to get together again, he had some sick days coming, and could stay in SF for a couple of more days.
That certainly sounded appealing, and I said, "Let's stay in touch."
"Cool," he said. "This was a great start to the weekend and I hope it was a good start to your birthday celebration."
"Yeah, definitely," I said, as I smiled and opened the door for him.