Dave

Copyright for this story belongs to and remains with the author. I don't have any major objection to my work being re-distributed, but ASK FIRST!!!

This is a gay adult story with the consequent language and images. If homosexuality and/or sexually explicit themes offend you then do not continue. If these are illegal in your area, then you have my sympathy, but you proceed at your own risk.

This is a work of fiction, and as such the characters are not bound by the usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is your obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily.

I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may inspire new work, please feel free to contact me -- all emails will be answered to the best of my ability. Iainlthr@hotmail.com.

Dave

Iainlthr@hotmail.com

Chapter Three -- False start??

Steve and I stayed together for another three months after the night that I bumped into Dave again at that bar. We tried, really we did. But as wonderful as our sex life was, outside of the bedroom we seemed to be less and less alike as time went on.

He struggled at the small intimate dinner parties I loved so much, did all he could to keep up his side of the conversation, but just seemed to lose interest. When we went to the theatre he would go through the programme, reading all about the show beforehand, and attempting to follow the plot, but invariably his eyes would droop and his head nod forward well before the final curtain.

For my part, I did my best to sit through the smash-em-up movies he loved without wriggling like a cat on a hot tin roof. And I honestly tried to get the hang of football. I read up on the rules, watched the sports reports on TV, and went along with him and his mates to the home games, but somehow I always managed to miss the crucial move, or to cheer at exactly the wrong time.

After each and every failed attempt at socialising together, Steve and I made up for the awkwardness with passionate love making, taking each other to places mere mortals only dreamed of. He was, without doubt, the best lover I had ever known. The things he did to me and for me were unbelievable, sending me to the highest peaks of sexual bliss over and over again. And, all modesty aside, he proclaimed that I was his perfect partner, that no-one could come close to me when it came to ultimate erotic excitement.

As the weeks and months slipped by, we spent less and less time together except for our escapades in bed. I knew in my mind that this wasn't right, that we needed to part if either of us was to find true love, but whenever I determined to raise the subject with Steve, my resolve would melt way with the first touches of his fingers on my neck, and the feel of his tongue against my lips. My head said no, but my body ached for the delights he bestowed.

It was late August, and the cold winds of winter showed no indication of letting up, when I decided it was time to call an end to our relationship. Steve had gone to the footy -- it was an important game with the season drawing to a close -- and I had arranged to meet him at his place around 7.00. By habit, I checked the results, Steve's team had won, which meant he'd be on high, and I set out with a sense of dread. Right on time, I knocked at his door, and he flung it open, dragging me inside quickly with a huge smile on his face, and threw his arms around me. As his lips found mine and his hands sent tingles down my back, I began to melt, felt the strength to end it vanishing again. My fingers went to his neck and I began to tug at his ears just the way I knew would drive him crazy with anticipation. And then I stopped. The look on his face was of sheer disappointment, as the flame ebbed from him.

"Steve, we need to talk," I said, slowly but firmly.

"I'll bet you can make me sing!" he said smiling.

"No, seriously. We need to discuss ... us."

His smile left his face, and his hands left my back. I felt cold and alone without that contact, and my body screamed out to move against him, to have his touch back again. But he too was now somehow determined. He sat on the sofa, and I took a position opposite him, not touching him.

"I know," he said quietly. That made me look up and into his eyes quickly, surprised. "We should have talked a while ago," he went on. "But every time I want to talk to you, the thought of making love crowds out everything else."

That threw me. I don't know why, but it hadn't occurred to me that Steve might also have concluded that our relationship was not the perfect match, was something we needed to finish for our own sakes.

"Yeah ... !" I said. Not exactly deep, but I said it with feeling, and we both knew what I meant.

"Mike, ..." Steve began, then stopped to think.

After a minute or so, I took a breath, and started to speak. "Steve, the sex we have is incredible. More than incredible, it's absolutely amazing," I said, holding his gaze with my eyes. "But ..."

"... I need something more," he finished for me, for both of us. "I need someone who can join in without having to try, someone who wants to go to the games, and then grab a burger afterwards, before we come home together." His face was contorted with the difficulty of saying the words.

"And I need someone who likes what I like, with whom I can share my thoughts and not put them to sleep," I said in response.

"So we both need someone else!" he smiled sadly.

"I guess so."

"You know, I'll never find anyone as good as you when it comes to making love," he whispered, his eyes moist.

I felt the tears well, struggled to keep my voice level. "Ditto, handsome," I muttered. "We can still be friends ...?" I offered.

"No, Mike," he said firmly now. "We were never `friends', but we were damned good lovers."

My mind spun. He was absolutely right, and I wondered if I had misjudged him all this time, if I had underestimated him. I probably had, but that didn't change the fact that we simply weren't compatible, except in bed.

"Thank you, Steve," I said, and with feeling. "I'll never forget you. You mean a lot to me, honestly, even if it doesn't seem like it right now."

He smiled then. "You mean a lot to me too. And you've taught me a lot." I thought to myself that the sentiment was mutual. "I know we can't be boyfriends," he went on, "but if you ever need to `relieve the tension', let me know. God knows we're hot together!"

I chuckled at that, and leaned forward to take his hand in mine. I couldn't find any words, but we held hands for a long time, staring into each other's eyes, before I let go and stood up, letting myself out with a parting kiss on his cheek.

As I walked away from his flat, I found myself immersed in a sea of conflicting emotions. I was upset that my relationship with Steve was over, even though I had wanted it to end, and knew that it couldn't go on. I was sorry that I would not be continuing the amazing sex that I had enjoyed with him, and at the same time I felt liberated, relieved almost, that I was single again, a free agent, able to go out and look for Mr Right without feeling guilty, or bound to someone else.

I won't pretend that I stayed chaste over the next few weeks. After I broke up with Steve, I dived back into the pool quickly, resumed my search for the perfect man, and along the way I managed to find several partners to share a drink, a dance and a fuck. I enjoyed the sex, even enjoyed the company, but none of them were quite what I was looking for. They weren't Steve, yet I wasn't looking for another Steve anyway. They just weren't ... well they weren't whatever it was I wanted. And to make things even more difficult, I didn't seem to know myself what it was I wanted.

And then it happened again. It was a Friday night and I had been drinking since shortly after finishing work. I had gone from one bar to another along Oxford Street, meeting up with a few acquaintances, sharing a dance or flirting outrageously, but with no intention of following through. The night was getting on, and the effect of the alcohol was beginning to take its toll, when I saw a familiar face in the crowd. Unsure if it was who I thought, I made my way over to him and tapped his shoulder, interrupting what may well have been a serious pick-up attempt by a tall blond guy who was talking to him. He turned around, and I grinned stupidly.

"Dave! I thought it was you. How are you?" I said, a little too loudly and a little too keenly.

"Hey, Mike, good to see you again, mate," he said, his lips curling into a grin. He glanced behind me and to either side. "Where's Steve?"

I was surprised that he remembered Steve's name so instantly, since they had only met once. And I sensed something else in his voice, almost a strain, but I couldn't make out why.

"Gone," I said simply. "We weren't quite right for each other."

"Oh, sorry to hear that."

"No, it was okay," I reassured him. "We both realised it, and we separated friends, before it developed into anything too serious."

"That's good," he said, a smile breaking out on his face. I sensed him relax considerably.

"How about you?" I asked cautiously. "Any new boyfriends on the horizon?"

"Nope. I'm single and loving it."

"Oh, come on. Everyone says that, and no-one believes it. How could you `love' the endless searching, trying to make contact in a bar, wondering if he'll call the next day, the lonely nights at home alone?"

"Ooh, Mike," Dave grimaced, "I do believe that's the voice of someone who speaks with bitter experience!" We laughed together at his comment.

"But seriously, Dave, don't you find it all gets you down?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he mumbled. "I just find that no-one I meet matches up to my expectations."

"Me too," I echoed. "I have this standard that nobody can reach." I reddened then, unable to look him in the eye. My `standard' was one I didn't even know myself, because I constantly compared anyone I met with Dave, yet I had no idea what being with Dave was like, but how could I tell him that?

He looked at me with a curious yet knowing glance. "Buy you a drink?" he asked, breaking the sudden silence. I nodded, and together we settled into a quiet booth at the back of the room, downing our beers and reminiscing over shared memories of school, regretting lost opportunities and speculating on what might have been. For the next couple of hours, we caught up on each other's lives, comparing experiences and past lovers, discovering we had similar interests and tastes, filling in the gaps so that by the end of the night it was as though we had remained close from the finish of school. And as we spoke, we drank. So much so that words began to slur and I found it difficult to stand up without swaying.

The night grew older, and we both grew drunker, until around 2.00 am, Dave stopped talking and looked around us. "Hey, mate, I think it's time we were outta here."

"You're place or mine?" I half joked, watching his face through the haze in my eyes.

"Which is closer?" he laughed, and pretending to hold each other up, we staggered out of the bar and into the street.

My home turned out to be the nearest of the two, and we were soon inside, recovering from the cold of the walk. As I let him in and pulled the door closed, my view landed on his arse, and I felt a twinge of desire as I watched the beautiful shape of his butt accentuated by his jeans. I directed him toward the sofa, telling him to make himself comfortable while I headed for the kitchen to make us both some strong coffee.

A few minutes later I returned to the living room to find Dave sitting upright on the lounge, his eyes closed and his breathing loud. He was sound asleep! I sat in the chair opposite him, drinking in the sight of his muscled, defined chest and the serenity of his handsome face. After all these years, I had finally gotten my dream man home, and he falls asleep before I can do anything about it! As I sat and stared at him, I slid lower into the comfort of the armchair, watching his contented slumber. My eyes felt heavy, but I smiled to myself. That was the last thing I remembered until I woke up the next morning, in my bed, alone and fully dressed.

I sat up with a start and instantly wished I hadn't. My head throbbed, but nothing a couple of aspirin wouldn't fix. With a little more care, I got out of bed and wandered into the loungeroom. There, stretched out on the lounge, his back to me, was Dave's form. His chest moved slightly in time to his breathing as he slept on. I tip-toed around him and into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee and swallow a couple of headache tablets. As the jug came to the boil, I heard a groaning from the living room, and poured two cups, grabbing some more tablets and a glass of water, which I presented to the now upright but groggy Dave.

"What's this?" he asked, still half asleep.

"Breakfast!" I declared.

"Oh, boy, we sure killed off some brain cells between us last night, didn't we?" he mumbled.

"Yep." We sat in shared misery, silently sipping our coffees and letting the pills have their effect, bringing us back to life. Almost an hour went by, and I was beginning to feel human again.

"Dave, why don't you have a shower, wake yourself up properly. There's a clean towel behind the bathroom door."

"Thanks," he said gratefully. "I think I need it."

Twenty minutes later, I had cleaned up the flat, and was sitting down to a glass of juice when he emerged with just a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still wet and his skin glowing and pink from the hot water.

"Oh, Mike, that was perfect. Why don't you hop in yourself, and I'll explore your kitchen, see if I can find us something to eat?" he said enthusiastically.

I did as he suggested, diving under the stream of hot water and standing there, letting the heat wash away the last remnants of the night before. After a much longer time than I usually allowed myself, I stepped out feeling immensely better and towelled myself off before draping the piece of cloth around myself and wandering back out into the living room.

Dave presented me with a couple of pieces of slightly burnt toast, and a look that said `well at least I tried!'. I happily ate the food as he sat opposite me, still dressed only in the towel, his chiselled chest and narrow waist looking fantastic in the fresh light of morning. I could feel the beginning of an erection as I watched him, and shifted so it wasn't obvious as I sat at the table.

He had sat and watched me eat in silence, an enigmatic smile on his lips the whole time. I finished eating and wiped the crumbs from my mouth, staring at him with a questioning look.

"Are you okay?" I asked, wondering at his mood.

"Oh, yeah," he smiled again, standing and leaning against the counter. "You feeling better now?"

"Much," I replied enthusiastically. "How about you?"

"Yep, me too. Mike, thanks for letting me crash here last night."

"No worries. I don't think either of us was in much of a state to get any further than where we did. How did I get into bed anyway, do you know?"

He laughed. "I woke up about 4.00 this morning, and you were sound asleep in the chair opposite me. I tried to wake you, but no luck, so I dragged you into the bedroom, pulled your shoes off and dropped you on the bed, and came back here to get some more sleep."

I grinned and blushed at the same time. "Thanks," I said. "You know, you could have had your way with me last night? Taken advantage of me and I would never have known," I said, trying to sound pious.

Dave smiled wickedly at that. "But where's the fun if you can't remember? Besides, I doubt I would have been capable of `having my way' with anyone last night," he chuckled.

I tried to look hurt. "Wouldn't you have wanted me then?" I asked in a mock tone of disappointment.

He lowered his voice, but his eyes were full of mirth as he matched my pout. "Of course I would, handsome! But if I was gonna do that magnificent body of yours justice, I'd want us both to be fully alert and giving it all we had."

Suddenly, the game was wearing thin. I felt a rush of blood to my cheeks, and a familiar tingling in my groin. I couldn't look into his eyes at that moment, as I realised that my words were far closer to my true feelings than I wanted to admit.

"Mike? Mike, are you okay?" Dave's voice came to me through a fog.

Shaking off my sudden change of mood, I turned to him again. "Yeah." I looked at him then, becoming serious, and quiet. "You know, Dave, back at school, and during those long hours in the pool, you were my dream, my fantasy. I used to wank off every night wishing you were holding me." I was expecting a laugh, or a sordid comment, but this time it was he who blushed and looked away.

When he did respond, it was almost a whisper. "If only we'd known ...!" His eyes were downcast as he went on. "I wanted you bad back then. After school finished and I came out, I used to compare everyone I met against my imagined version of you. I was sure you were straight, but I wanted someone just like you, and no-one ever measured up. And then when I finally found you and you were available, I wasn't. And later, you were with Steve ..."

My heart was racing as he spoke. He seemed so vulnerable yet strong all at once, and damn he was beautiful. I stood up and went to him, took his hands in mine and met his gaze with a steady look.

"But there's no-one else here now," I said softly but firmly. "Just the two of us ...?"

Our eyes locked as I inched closer to him, so close I could feel his breath, hear his fast-beating heart. And when my lips met his it was like electricity. We kissed, long and gentle, but locked together, tongues exploring teeth, saliva mixing as we tasted the forbidden fruit of each other. My arms went around his back as his hands lifted to rest on my shoulders, his fingers against the tender skin of my neck. Chest to chest, stomach to stomach, we stood and joined. The quickly rising hardness in my cock tented out the towel and I soon felt his erection pressing against my leg through the cloth he wore. We ground our pelvises together and the flimsy material fell from us so we stood buck naked, hard and desiring, against each other.

Desire was unleashed with that kiss, and the pent up urges of two men which had been held in check for many years. We almost wrestled each other to the bed, unwilling to relinquish the slightest touch on each other, stumbling and feeling our way across the room until we fell together onto the soft mattress. Freed from the need to remain upright, we rolled and twisted as one, hands rubbing, caressing, groping, bodies mashed together as our mouths remained joined, lips enmeshed and tongues jousting with each other. I could not get enough of him, nor he of me as we played and pinched, grinding and writhing with the release of our inhibitions.

Nothing was said as we continued our exploration of each other's bodies. No words were needed. We both knew what we wanted, and what we wanted was finally within reach. I rolled him onto his back and straddled him, my knees on either side of his waist, my hands on his wrists, pinning him down. In that position I could take my time, and I did, licking and biting at his chin, his neck, his nipples, then back to his lips for tiny pecks and pulling motions with my teeth. While my mouth worked on his torso, my arse rubbed and ground against his groin. I could feel the rigidity of his cock against my skin, and I moved purposefully to get the tube of his manmeat gliding up and down along the crack of my arse. I felt the head of his prick make contact with the soft ring of muscle that was my anus, and I pushed back, urging him against me. Still dry, he could not enter, but as I pushed I bent his prong until it must have been painful for him, but he made no protest.

Suddenly needing to be truly joined with him, I leaned over and retrieved a bottle of lube from the bedside table, but before I could do anymore, Dave heaved himself up and flipped me over onto my back, while the weight of his body now bore down on my abdomen, my legs still spread and wrapped around his hips. Now it was my turn to be teased and nibbled at by his mouth. I felt the velvety touch of his tongue across my neck, felt the warmth of his breath at my chest, and then groaned with delight as his teeth closed around my nipples one after the other. He bit at me firmly, pulling the erect nubs of skin away from my chest, twisting them with his teeth and then letting them go as he licked at the sensitive points. The pain was delicious, the eroticism intense as I gasped and shuddered with joy at what he did to me.

At the same time, his hand found the lube, and he spread a generous helping of the cool gel over his throbbing erection, before applying more of it to my arse with his fingers, sliding first one and then a second digit into me, opening my hole and massaging the sticky liquid over my muscles, readying me for his assault.

As the firm rounded shape of his knob found my puckering entrance again, I willed myself to relax and readied myself for him. He tried to be gentle, tried to take it slowly, but our combined need was too great. I felt the momentary pain as his cockhead opened my sphincter, and I pushed back to meet him. His thick meaty rod began to slide between the walls of muscle, and as it did I hunched myself backward, driving my body onto that fleshy pole and feeling him spike deep inside me. I gasped with the discomfort and the delight of having him, and my gut trembled at the penetration by his prick as his shaft rubbed against my prostate and his throbbing weapon filled me.

I was not going to allow him the slow build-up I would normally crave. I had waited so long for this moment, and as he sank fully within me, I clenched myself around his invading spear and milked his cock with my rectum. Dave moaned with the sensations as he buried his sword inside me, and quickly he began to hump at my body, driving himself deeper and deeper, harder and faster into me. I ached with the joy of our union and gripped back at him, released him and clamping again as he thudded in and out of me. For quite some time he continued to ram that pile driver of steel hard manflesh into my compliant body, and I felt the waves of tingling passion grow from the pit of my stomach where his tube of cockflesh filled me, spreading throughout my body and filling me with the lusty joy of ultimate masculine sex.

On and on we humped, harder, faster. The wet squelching sounds of his cock probing my bowel joined with our gasping breath and the squeaking of the bed. His skin glistened with the sheen of sweaty passion, and I could smell the aroma of male musk as he ploughed himself into me. I took all he could give and begged for more, needed so desperately to be coupled with him. "Fuck me, Dave, fuck me hard!" I hissed at him, and he did. My hands were on his shoulders, pulling him harder into me, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist while my hole was speared by his manhood. We crashed against each other, humping and cursing, pounding and hissing as we fucked each other with animal passion, lost to the world, oblivious to everything except our thundering fucking. He slammed himself into me and I took his prong, clenched it within me and owned him as he plumbed the depths of my gut.

I knew he was close to the edge, could feel his peak approach as he thumped harder and faster at me. Our eyes locked, and we stared deep into each other's soul, each seeing the need and the pleasure in the other. And at that moment his eyes widened, his body tensed, and he crashed one final time into me, his cock swollen and rampant. Burying his sword to the hilt within my body, spasms shook him and I felt the force of his orgasm explode as his nuts emptied their precious load into his shaft, his cock pumping a river of cum deep into my bowel. His voice called out a strangled yell, and with our eyes still locked together, my climax erupted. Wads of hot white cream shot from my prick, splattering against his gut and spraying up onto my chest and abdomen. Together we tensed, together we spasmed and shuddered, and together we slowly collapsed in exhaustion as the tide of orgasm receded. With his cock still firmly buried inside my rectum, he fell forward onto me as I relaxed myself and threw my arms around him. Curled up into a ball, and not wanting to let him go, I lifted my head and we kissed again, long and satisfying.

Aching from the exertion, Dave began to pull himself from me. Reluctantly I let him go, but not before I squeezed again with the ravaged muscles of my sphincter, milking every last drop of his essence from him. Now we lay side by side, arms entwined and mashing together with the slimy glue of my ejaculate. We looked again into each other's eyes and smiled, the happy smile of a dream finally sated.

"Holy fuck!" he said eloquently.

"Ditto!" was my evocative reply.

As our breathing slowly returned to normal in the hazy glow of post-coital warmth, we held each other tightly. "Maybe all those years of wondering and waiting were worth it," he said quietly.

"Well my imagination didn't do justice to the real thing!" I smiled back at him. I was in a state of pure bliss. This was not the ultimate sensuality I had known with Steve -- nothing would ever compare with that -- but somehow it was better. Making love with Dave was like a joining of mind and body, as though two separate pieces of the one being had finally come together to make a complete whole.

Almost an hour later, Dave leaned up on one elbow and stared into my eyes. "So, do you think I could possibly see you again?" he asked, as if we were strangers, two guys who had picked up some trade for the night.

I hit him with the pillow.

For the rest of the weekend we were inseparable. We talked and joked as though we had been together for years, but we also tried to make up for lost time, making love again and again as we exhausted our bodies and surrendered to our urges. The sex we shared was fantastic, but the time together when we weren't engaged in sweaty congress was even better. I had found my soulmate, and every minute with him was a joy.

Over the next three weeks, Dave and I saw each other constantly. We began to meet after work for drinks, get something to eat and then go to one or other of our homes where we happily and lustily joined together in rollicking sex. We spent the weekends together, and we ignored our friends, as often happens at the beginning of a relationship. I felt my attraction to Dave growing all the time, and began to think that this really was it, that we should begin to talk about some long term plans.

We had arranged to meet for dinner that Friday night, and I was in a bubbly mood as I walked toward the café. Another weekend to spend with my man -- that was how I was coming to think of him -- and I had decided it was time we started meeting each other's friends as well. I got there first and waited for him, unable to keep the smile from my face. When he arrived, I stood up and waved.

"Hi there, handsome," I said happily as he sat down, giving him a peck on the cheek, which made him smile and return the kiss. But there was something in his face I couldn't identify, some kind of concern.

"Hi Mike," he said simply as he looked at me again.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, wondering at this mood I hadn't seen before.

"Yeah, ... well, no, ... well ..." he trailed off as I gazed questioningly at him.

He took a deep breath, and a sense of foreboding grew in my mind.

"Mike, I don't know how to say this, we've only just found each other after so long ..."

My brain dreaded the words that were coming, but I put on a brave face. "Just say it, Dave, get it over with!"

"The company I work for want me to manage a major project. It's a huge job, with lots more money and a giant feather in my cap, ..."

I brightened. "Great! So what's the problem?"

"It's in Melbourne! They have already started plans to relocate me, find me somewhere to live, settle me in. It will be a huge job, could last up to two years."

The look on my face must have been shock. Dave stared at me. "Mike? Mike, are you okay?"

"Melbourne!" I gasped. "Two years? Fuck! It's so far away, and so long."

"They do have telephones, you know?" he offered with a wan smile. "And it's only an hour and a half flying time ..."

"When?" was all I could manage as my mind reeled at the news.

"They want me to start down there a fortnight from Monday."

"Two weeks! Is that all? Shit!"

"Mike, I don't want to lose you again, but I really need this job. It's not that bad. We can talk every day, and I can't see why we can't get together every couple of weeks. You can fly down for weekends, or I can fly up to Sydney to be with you. Please, please tell me it'll be alright?"

I smiled then, pretended to brighten up. "Of course it will, handsome. We'll manage somehow." But in my mind I thought of all the difficulties of long distance affairs. Deep down inside I had a bad feeling about this. We were going to be separated by almost a thousand kilometres, and two years was a hell of a long time!

To be continued...

Comments, complaints or compliments? Email me at iainlthr@hotmail.com

This story is a fantasy, it is not real and only happened in my imagination. YOU MUST REMEMBER that in the real world, you can DIE from having unsafe sex. It is your right and your duty to make sure that condoms are always used, whether you are giving or receiving. It doesn't matter how good looking or how ugly he is, and it doesn't matter whether you are top or bottom, USE A CONDOM!