THIS STORY IS TOTALLY FICTITIOUS. IT CONTAINS DESCRIPTIVE SEX BETWEEN MEN. IF THIS IS OFFENSIVE TO YOU GO ELSE WHERE. IF IT IS ILLEGAL FOR YOU TO BE READING IT, YOU SHOULDN'T BE HERE TO BEGIN WITH, SO JUST GO AWAY. OTHERWISE ENJOY IT. JWS
DINING ALONE (PART 1)
JOE'S TALE
by J.W.SMITH
You'd think that after thirty years, living with Frank, I'd be accustomed to eating alone on the night of his company's Christmas party. Well, I suppose that I am. I made no bones about it when he announced that Friday night was the night. I didn't feel like sitting at home so I dressed and went to my favorite local restaurant. It's a curious thing when Frank is at home in the evening I will be in my office working on my latest book, but if he isn't there I simply cannot concentrate on my work.
I hate sitting in a restaurant alone. I always feel like I'm on display, an object to be pitied. So I was delighted when I was interrupted by a deep masculine voice, while I was looking at the menu.
"You look like you'd enjoy some company and I hate eating alone. May I join you?
His voice was so plaintive and at the same time it sounded like he was going to burst out laughing; I was sure someone was playing with me. I looked up into his eyes, liquid deep pools of blue. His smile was warm and generous.
"I--- I would be delighted if you would. Please do. I'm Joe Williams."
I stood up offering my hand.
"I am please to make your acquaintance, sir. I know who you are. I've read everything you have published. My name is Don Thompson."
He took my hand in both of his and held it, squeezing lightly. I could feel the strength behind the restraint. After several seconds, I felt myself blushing and pulled my hand back. He smiled, and sat down. A waiter came and handed him a menu.
"You know my profession. What do you do?"
I looked him over trying to guess before he answered. He stood, I'd say, about six foot five. And from the way his clothes fit, I figured him to be a hundred and ninety pounds. When he had held my hand I could feel the roughness of calluses. His face was weathered. He wore a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His sun bleached light brown hair was almost military short. I guessed construction worker, even though he was dressed in slacks and a sweater over a white dress shirt.
"I'm a building contractor."
"And you've read my novels?"
"Also your essays and short stories. I like your essays best. You say what I feel."
"Thank you. I always enjoy hearing that. I assume you're also telling me that you are a member?"
"Lifetime."
The waiter came and took our orders.
"Tell me, Don, why is a good looking guy like you alone on a Friday night? I would think you'd have young fellows lined up waiting."
"Young fellows are not my thing, sir."
"Please, drop the sir. It makes me feel old."
"I'm sorry. I was raised to address any one older than myself as sir or ma'am. It's only a show of respect, and a habit I've never been able to break."
"I appreciate that. There is so little respect in this world. I apologize for asking you to drop it. You may address me as you please."
"Thank you. May I use you given name?"
"Of course you may."
"I've seen you in here several times, and always with your partner. I never approached you before, he looked so stern."
" Frank? He's such a teddy bear. That's just his public persona, his straight look."
"He's not out? Living with a infamous person like you I'd think he would be."
"Infamous am I?"
I arched an eyebrow and chuckled.
"In the straight world you definitely are. In our world you're probably a glorious saint." Don said
He grinned. I grinned back at him.
"No, if you recall Frank's only mentioned as my partner, no name, on the dust cover bios. He works in an industry that still frowns on us. So I'm a secret. At least in his straight world."
"Where is he tonight?"
"At his company's annual Christmas party."
"And you're left to dine alone." The sadness in his voice caused me to look at him. There was an expression on his face I didn't comprehend, like he might start crying.
"It's just office politics."
"If you were my partner, I'd never leave you to dine by yourself." I didn't know how to respond to that. He had said it so ardently, so vehemently that I figured diverting the course of the conversation to focus on him was the thing to do.
"Why are you alone tonight, Don?" He looked away. His eyes teared. He shook his head furiously, and then looked back at me. 'Uh-oh, wrong direction.' I thought
"I-I'm sorry. I haven't been able to stop being emotional. I lost my partner almost a year ago." He said.
I reached across the table and covered his hand with mine.He looked at me through his tears, and smiled. I thought maybe the weather might be a safe subject. But he obviously needed to talk about what was so heavy on his mind. So I dug in.
"Tell me about him. How long were you together?" I asked.
He scrubbed the tears and scrutinized me a long time. He seemed to be searching my soul for his answer. I could only look back with the sincere sorrow I felt for his loss.
"All of my life." he said. "I had been with him all of my life."
He held my gaze, daring me to look away. All kinds of thoughts flew through my mind. I wondered if he could read them as he stared at me.And then it dawned on me what he had just admitted.
"He was your father."
He didn't answer. He just continued to regard me. I felt he was challenging me to make something of it.
"You want to tell me about him?" I asked. Our waiter interrupted us with the drinks we had ordered. Don picked his up and took a sip of it.
"You remind me so much of Dad." He swirled the amber liquor, considering it for several moments.
"How's that?"
"Well, not in looks. He was a big man like me, heavier, slightly balding. No, it's in your demeanor, your presence. You give the feeling that you are in command of your world."
"I have that kind of presence? I am not aware of it."
"That is what makes you so attractive to me. It's like you are the natural born ruler of your universe and anyone who comes into it. Dad had it, but I think his size had a lot to do with it."
"I'm not sure I understand what you are saying."
"Watch the waiter. Notice how he is rather arrogant as he waits on that table."
"Yes, he is rather a snot, isn't he?"
"Now, I'm going to call him over. Observe how he reacts to you."
He got the waiter's attention and beckoned him over. He asked something about our order, and the waiter, had the same attitude with him. I in turn asked him a question and he almost kowtowed. I was amazed. I had never noticed it before. And now that I had, it made me uncomfortable. And uneasy that he had seen that in me.
"You didn't make that observation just tonight,did you?"
"No, sir, I have watched you here several times before."
"Here?"
"Yes, sir."
I thought a moment. Yes, I did recall having seen Don in here with his father. I remember thinking what a handsome man his father was. And Don looked so much like him.
"Are you stalking me?" I asked.
He just grinned.
"And you find that trait in me attractive?"
"It reminds me of my dad."
"You have reverted to addressing me as sir. Why?"
"I always addressed him that way. It just seems natural to do so with you."
The waiter served our salads. As we ate in silence I thought about what Don had revealed to me. And I wondered why he had chosen me.
Our table was placed next to a fountain, in the center of the room. It was rather isolated from the other tables by a walkway for the waiters. The musical splash of the falling water, and the quiet roar of conversation gave us privacy for my next question.
"I recall how as a teenager I fantasized about my father when I masturbated. Still today I can vividly recall seeing him naked. How did you get beyond the fantasy?"
Don laid his fork on the salad plate and studied it for a few moments. He smiled at the memory he was reliving.
"I caught him at a weak moment and seduced him. I was twenty-three. He had just showered after work one day and lay naked on his bed. I had just come in from class. His bedroom door was open. I started to knock as I peered into the room. He was rubbing his hands over his body. He was standing high and proud. He would pinch his nubs and buck his hips, rubbing his hands up and down his hairy body.
"I watched for a couple of minutes, and then I quickly stripped and walked over to the bed. He was whispering, "John, John, god how I miss you man. I need your touch so bad." I knelt beside the bed and reach out and caressed his chest. I can still feel how the hairs felt on my fingers that first time. Dad was so into his fantasy that he didn't know it was me touching, not Uncle John. With his eyes still closed he started telling John what to do. And I did it. When he said, "Get on top of me man and rub your hairy body over mine." I did.
"We were pressed together. I had my arms around him. He had his hands on my butt pulling me against him. I was getting so into making love to my dad that I blurted out, "I love you, Dad." He opened his eyes and looked at me. "What the hell are you doing son?" I kissed him on his mouth. He twisted his head away. "I'm doing what I have wanted to do all my life. I am loving you. Dad, love me too." His eyes were full of tears, as he looked at me. " I do love you, Son."
"He had gone soft. He moved his hands up my back. " But this isn't right. You're my son. We shouldn't be doing this." I still lay on top of him, still very excited. "Uncle John was your brother." I argued. He ran his hand up and down my back. I could see the see the cogs intermeshing behind his eyes as he thought. I could feel him getting excited again. I tentatively kissed him. He closed his eyes as tears filled them. I kissed them, and licked away the tears. I pulled back and looked at him. He opened his eyes and smiled at me. God, I loved the way he smiled, that special smile that was mine alone."
The waiter interrupted with our dinners at that moment. I was relieved. I was in quite a state of excitement. I looked at the food sitting in front of me and then looked up at Don. Suddenly, I was ravenous. I picked up my knife and fork and began to devour my food with gusto. As I chewed a rare piece of steak I glanced up at him again. He, too, was eating like he was starved. It is amusing to note how eating can be so sexual. I almost felt like we were playing out the dining scene in Tom Jones, sensuously stuffing bites of seared bloody beef in our mouths as we grinned at each other.
If anyone had observed us they would have known we were making love to each other as we ate our steaks. When he took the last bite of the red meat, he sat back, looking at me with a grin on his face. I grinned back, knowing this tall handsome stranger had seduced me. He took his napkin and wiped it across his mouth, never breaking eye contact.
"Joe, would you consider an after dinner drink at my home? It's not far from here."
I looked at my watch. It wasn't even eight-thirty yet. Frank's party didn't even begin until nine, and he wouldn't be home until after midnight. I didn't give it another thought.
"Yes, I would love to, Don."
I insisted in paying for dinner. He relented, but insisted on leaving the tip.
" Follow me. It's only a few blocks from here."
"So is my home. We must be neighbors."
He just smiled and climbed into his shiny red pick up. I walked across the parking lot and got into my big old beloved black Caddy. As I followed him down the street I wondered, for a moment, why he would chose me I'm nearly sixty years old. In good shape, but slightly over weight. Short, I only stand five foot four, with my shoes on. Rather bleary eyed from thousands of hours sitting at a typewriter and computer. And every hair on my head, face and body is snow white. My conscience kicked in. What the hell was I planning on doing, going home with this beautiful sexy man? I knew what I was doing and exactly what I wanted. And I was willing to pay the fiddler if necessary.
What about Frank? He hadn't touched me with passion for twenty years. After our first ten or so years of joyous sex, indulging in the promiscuity of the seventies, the age of AIDS hit us with a vengeance.
Our friends were dropping like flies sprayed with DDT. Frank chose to stay alive rather than to be alive. I think he may have made a promise to his god that if we weren't infected he would abstain.
Oh, we had sex. Safe sex. Not often. And not with ardor. We loved each other like any old couple, but the colorful passion had died many years ago. I don't think he would care if I did play around, as long as I did it safely and was home when he got there.
Don's pickup turned into the driveway of a long low ranch house that I had passed a hundred times over the years. I was three blocks from home. I parked on the street. I sat there for a few moments feeling dazed that I was doing this. Then decisively I open my door and followed Don in to his house.
"What would you like to drink?" He pulled his sweater over his head and tossed it on a chair arm.
"Scotch and water."
"Ice?"
"Definitely."
He stepped behind an old rattan bar and mixed our drinks.
I studied the room. It was done in South Seas Jungle, with bark cloth covered rattan furniture, grass mat flooring and original island paintings. I pulled my jacket off and laid it on top of his sweater.
"This is great. It's right out of the forties."
"Yeah, I did this after Dad died. We took a trip to Tahiti soon after we became lovers. I fell in love with the look."
He walked over to me and handed me my drink. He stood facing me. I looked up into his deep blue eyes and drowned. He leaned down and gently kissed me. Nuzzling my beard he whispered.
"I want to make love to you, Joe."
He caressed my cheek with calloused fingers. I studied his face.
"Would you be making love to me or to the memory of your dad?
He scrutinized me for a moment.
"Definitely to you, Joe. I loved my dad, but he is gone."
I reached around his neck and pulled his head down to my level.
"Then proceed."
I kissed him. He took my drink and set it on the coffee table along with his. He started unbuttoning my shirt. He spread it open and with a deep growl he buried his face in my copious white chest hair. He explored until he found my nipple and then ran his tongue around it until it stood up hard. He bit it. I arched into him. He backed off, and taking my hand led me into the bedroom.
There he started undressing me, kissing each part of my body as he bared it, my shoulders, my arms, my chest and my belly. He knelt and unbuckled my belt and undid my slacks letting them fall. He took hold of my boxers and slowly, teasing himself, he pulled them down, all the while kissing each newly exposed body part. He rubbed his face in my thick mass of hair. He nibbled it, breathing in the masculine scent.
He turned me around and massaged the two large globes of my ass. He kissed the top of my crack and then ran his tongue down the cleavage, sending shivers up my spine.
Then he pushed me gently back on to the bed. Kneeling before me, he lifted one foot and removed my shoe and sock. He kissed the top of my foot then stuck my big toe into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it. I almost creamed. He then repeated the act with my other foot. He grabbed my shorts and pants and pulled them off. He then stood up.
"It's show time."
He grinned lasciviously at me. I scooted onto the middle of the bed and propped my head up to watch the strip tease. Moving to a beat in his mind, he sensuously teased me, slowly baring his beautiful body. Don slowly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the tails out of his pants. I gasped at the beauty of his hirsute chest, and the two rosy nips poking thru all that curly brown hair.
He took his time unbuttoning his slacks as he gyrated his hips and threw lascivious glances my way. He let them fall, exposing his muscular legs also covered in curly blonde hair. The front of his boxers were tented. He slipped his finger in the opening and caressed himself. He grinned at the hungry expression on my face and slid his hands in the waistband, pushing his shorts down slowly revealing his thick thatch of hair. I could take no more. I growled.
"Take those damn things off and get over here."
He pushed them on down. He stepped out of his pants and shorts. He removed his socks balancing on one foot and then the other. Grinning like a kid that gets to go with daddy, he jumped on the bed and straddled my thighs. I sharply drew in a breath of air as he rested against me. He looked at my hairy chest and belly, running his fingers thru it; he sent little chills coursing thru me.
"Man, you're gorgeous with all this white hair and tanned skin. You have no tan line. You nude sunbathe, huh?" He asked
"No, it's my natural skin color. I rarely get out in the sun."
"Are you Hispanic? Your facial features look Irish."
"Black Irish. My hair was black until I was 25." I said.
"What turned it white?"
My hands explored his furry calves. I ran them up his legs. I hadn't touch another man, except for Frank in twenty years.
"I was in an accident. Head on collision. When I woke up my hair was totally white. That's where I met Frank.
He leaned forward and kissed my neck and nibbled on my earlobes.
"He ran into you?"
"No, he was the first person at the scene. I looked at him and asked his name, and then ask that he never leave me. I passed out. I wokeup in the hospital with white hair and Frank at my side. We've been together ever since."
My lust took command. I flipped him off my body and letting my pent up hungers rule me. I reveled in inflicting him with ecstatic pleasure. We took and gave to each other with equal passion. When finally we came, we came together, mightily, powerfully. While we lay in each other's arms recovering, he began to explore my body with his strong calloused hands.
"Is that how you got this scare in your scalp?" He ran his fingers over it.
"Yeah, there's a metal plate under it. I was in a coma for nearly six weeks. The first thing I saw when awoke was Frank."
"That's so cool, man Sounds like something out of a romance novel."
He stroked me from my throat to my toe tips. Then licking and nipping, he had me crying out in sweet torment. Each new assault was pure sensual delight. Mastering my release, he matched me blast for blast.
"My god, you could kill a fellow with that kind of onslaught." I said.
He grinned at me as he lay back, pulling me onto his chest. I lay there, momentarily exhausted.
"We should get you into the shower and then home."
I agreed as he pulled me up.
He adjusted the water and then held out his arms, inviting me into them and into the warm spray of water. Lovingly we bathed each other and then toweled each other dry. He wrapped himself in a terry robe while I dressed. When I was ready to leave he hugged me and lingeringly kissed me again.
"Goodnight, Joe."
"I really enjoyed it. Thanks for the drink."
I motioned toward the two glasses of amber liquid that neither of us had touched. He grinned at me.
"Goodnight."
I turned down the walk. I didn't look back. I knew he was standing in the door watching me walk away. As I opened my car door, I looked at him; he waved, and then closed his door. I felt like a cat that had been tossed out into the cold night.
'You're being stupid' I thought to myself as I drove the three blocks to the house.
It was still an hour or so before Frank was due home. I made myself a cup of herbal tea and sat down at my word processor. I stared at it, wondering what the hell I had just done. I sipped my tea and relived the past three hours. I tried to imagine what kind of impact they were going to have on the future. For the life of me, I couldn't imagine life with out Frank. God, we may not have had a great sex life for years, but I loved him with all my heart. I put it out of my mind, and finished my tea.
I stood at the window looking out into the darkness for a few minutes emptying my mind of all thought. I undressed and crawled into bed. I immediately went to sleep. That was unusual for me. I usually lay there thinking about the story I'm writing and visualizing the next days writing.
Sometime later I awakened when Frank came to bed. I rolled over and embraced him. He seemed rather surprised at my ardor, but returned my hug.
"I love you, Frank." I whispered in his ear. He kissed me on he cheek and patted my rear.
"I love you, too, Joe. Let's go to sleep, I'm pooped." He rolled away. Again I was a little hurt at the rebuff, as I have been time after time over the years. Why should this time be any different?
And there more!
IF YOU LIKE READING ME, I have a bawdy tale on Beginnings "Sonny and the Law", Listed 9-17 and a three part mystery also under Beginnings "Someone Like You" 9-23. You may flame me or what ever at js.collection@verizon.net