Dwayne lived in one of those rural cities that surrounded NYC - it was about 90 miles away from "the city" as everyone called it. e had been born in that city, and had lived there all of his life, except for the period of time that he was at college. He studied Russian literature and language at the University, but you wouldn't know it. He didn't speak any Russian with anyone and didn't read any Russian literature, nor did he go to Russian cultural events. He simply didn't talk about that period at all. He didn't need to in his work either. Instead of going to graduate school, or looking for a job with an international "flavor," he had different ideas. Dwayne went to work at a local bookstore. He went to work there because it was less stressful: he over reacted to things, and wanted a life that was, well, as quiet as he was: and he WAS quiet. One former lover at college had talked about how Dwayne was so "mellow," that the only way to tell he was having an orgasm was to see if a mirror fogged up when he breathed on it. No one quite knew where the wish to avoid any kind of excitement or stress came from. Perhaps it was because of the man that nature made: Dwayne was 6'5", very thin, with what could pass as an "afro" if he were a man of color and it were a different point in time, and he had big aviator glasses that hid beautiful dark brown eyes. Add a deep bass voice that made him an ideal singer for Russian songs, and you had a young man who did have some body issues. His appearance was such that men who were attracted to him were absolutely enthralled with him. BUT... Dwayne didn't date. There was a reason for this, as we'll find out.
While he didn't seem to have much ambition, Dwayne DID have a plan in mind: he wanted, desperately, to own and run a comic book store. Dwayne was OBSESSED with comics. He had entered contests on comic trivia, and had won more than a few of them. He had an extensive collection, which he kept in pristine condition in the large house where he lived, alone - an inheritance from his mother. His favorites? All the superhero comics, and comics with one theme in particular. If a comic, regardless of the superhero, involved the hero being in peril: captured, kidnapped, tortured, imprisoned, anything like that, Dwayne would read it over and over again. He'd memorize the drawings. And he'd dream: he'd dream he was in the comic, as the hero in peril. Dwayne was a superhero looking for a villain.
There wasn't much hope of finding his "villain" where he lived. His city was beautiful, and he lived within walking distance of a small lake where there were always ducks, fish, other wildlife. On weekends, he'd pack up a simple lunch with his favorite comics, and sit on the bank of the river, reading and fantasizing. But apart from his fantasies there was really... nothing. He would, occasionally, find a person interested in comics, although not as much as he was, but if the man were gay, and if things proceeded, inevitably, the guy wanted to be the one in distress: he wanted Dwayne as the villain. It made sense. The deep voice, and Dwayne's height seemed to make him more of a villain than a hero, but it wasn't what he wanted. He had told a friend when they were at dinner one night:
"I guess I'm really looking for a caveman. Someone I don't intimidate, who just comes in and, well... turns me into the damsel in distress." He blushed immediately. "I didn't say that did I?" Helen, his friend, smiled at him. "You did. It's ok. But you're not gonna find him here, love. Probably need to head south. Try the big city. At least there are stores that might have comics you need for your collection."
Dwayne had been thinking of NYC for a while. He was more than tempted. If nothing else, "the city" provided a much wider selection of men than he had around him. Getting there was a pain in the neck: there was the train, and his car, of course, but parking a car in the city.... It was a 2 hour trip one way. But the thought began to come back, over and over again. He thought about it. He had to work at the bookstore on Saturdays, but not Sundays. He had a day off in the middle of the week, which he viewed as kind of a dead day, but it was there. He began investigating: what was there in NY on Sundays: where could someone who really wanted a quiet type of environment go?
"What about church, Dwayne?" Helen had suggested to him. "Isn't there that LGBT church that has their services on Sunday?" When Dwayne expressed disdain for something, the sound that came out of his mouth was somewhere between a deep laugh, and a bray from an animal. "CHURCH? I can barely make the sign of the cross. You know how I feel about religion!" Helen laughed. "No one told you to become a monk. Just go. It's one afternoon and evening of your life. No one's gonna try to convert you, and you may just , hey you never know." He thought about it for a while: a LONG while. Helen mentioned it in early fall. It was the following February, that Dwayne gassed up his car, took his credit card so he could pay whatever the exorbitant parking fees would be, and headed to NYC.
"New meat" was the phrase that got whispered after Dwayne came into the church. He stood in the back , after he had found a place that was as far away from anyone as was possible in the fairly crowded sanctuary. "BIG new meat. Cute. Geeky, but cute" were more phrases that went around. Dwayne didn't hear them. He was in a mild state of shock that he was here. The service was longer than he thought it would be, and there was a lot of touching: something he really did not like. He did his best to avoid as much of it as possible. At the end of the service, an attractive woman came up to him and held out a hand.
"Welcome. I can tell you're new. I'm Pamela, the assistant pastor. If you'd like, there's a coffee social in the basement. Good place to meet people. " "Thank you," Dwayne answered. "I have a long trip home so I think I'll pass." Pamela smiled. "It's half hour out of your life. Give it a try. You never know." Then she moved on. Dwayne thought about it. "You never know " was true. And he didn't have to stay long. He took the stairs to the basement.
Anyone who has been a "first timer" to a church social knows they're a great example of what a "clique" is. Indeed , they were in force that night: small groups of men were hanging around, giggling, laughing, lost in a collective world. Dwayne got a S Styrofoam cup of tea and stood off at the side. He was a little chilly: wearing a short sleeved shirt wasn't the best choice for tonight, and he realized that if he came back (the music had interested him), he'd have to dress more warmly.
"Hey. Haven't seen you here before. I'm Dave." A handsome, dark haired man with a moustache had come over, smiling. He was shorter than Dwayne - who wasn't? - but he had a thick, muscular body that evidenced his work outs. "Hello. I'm Dwayne. You wouldn't have seen me. It's my first time." Dave smiled. "I kinda thought that. You have the look." "The look?" Now Dave laughed. "The look of 'oh my God, what have I done? Why am I here? Get me out of here NOW." It was Dwayne's turn to laugh. "Is it that obvious?" "You have an expressive face. What can I tell you? How's about....." Dave pointed to a small settee' that was vacant. "Feel like chatting just a bit?" "Uh, sure..." Dwayne began to feel ... well, was Dave being friendly, or was he trying to pick him up? The conversation was very general. Dave told Dwayne about his job: he did corporate finance for a big company, and worked pretty long hours during the day, so that he could have his weekends free. He was somewhat committed to the church "as a social organization. I could do without the religion." He laughed. "So, you're so quiet. It's like someone gagged you. How about telling me about you." As the question came out of Dave's mouth, Dwayne felt his arm go to the back of the sofa. He didn't feel Dave touch him, but he began feeling trapped and nervous. "Well, there's not much to say..." And then Dwayne spoke for about 15 minutes. Dave smiled. "Russian? That's a hard one. Do you read any Russian comics?" Dwayne laughed. "on line. When I can find them. They're all kind of the same thing: capitalist invaders destroyed by the power of the Russian army." Dave began to laugh. "I should've expected that. " That's when Dwayne felt Dave's hand on his right shoulder. It felt kind of reassuring, and kind of nice, but... He smiled, reached over, and gently took Dave's hand off. Dave was a bit surprised, but he took a deep breath. "Hey, I didn't mean to upset you Dwayne, I really didn't. I think you're interesting, and to be honest... I came over because I thought you were cute and you might want to have coffee, but... " he shrugged his shoulders and looked at his watch. "Damn, look at the time. Gotta go. Nice to meet you. Enjoy your visit." And then he was up and gone. Dwayne saw him stop and chat with a few people before he walked out. The last thing he did was drop a 20 in the giving box. Dwayne wore those glasses, but his vision was good: he could tell the denomination. As soon as Dave was gone, three other guys came over. "WOW. You must have some super boyfriend dude." "Huh? What do you mean?" "You just turned down Dave. Do you know how many of us would give up a testicle to sleep with him?" "NOW NOW. REALLY? " Dwayne looked at them and then said, "really?" "Oh yeah. If you're into what he likes, he's supposed to be absolutely awesome in bed. He met his ex here: told us that there was never a time when he didn't feel like Dave was going to push his limits before he... well, you know." Dwayne shook his head. "I don't think I'm following." Another one of the guys spoke. "He's a Dom. Sweet guy out of bed, totally in control in bed. Ropes, gags, anything like that, but if you like it, he does it well." Part of Dwayne's head was thinking "YOU STUPID ASS," and another part was saying "good. Got out of that." His crotch had no doubt what it wanted. Dwayne shrugged again, and then he lied "Well, we couldn't agree on any kind of time. " Now he did what Dave did and checked his watch. "Nice to meet you guys. I guess I'll see you next week." See, the comments from the guys had intrigued Dwayne. It had been... how long... since he had been in bed with a man? He tried to tell himself he didn't miss it, but... he did. An attractive man came over, and yes, he was aggressive but.... " Dwayne laughed as he drove home. "The guys who take the damsels in distress always are," he said out loud, to nobody. The radio was playing one of his favorite operas and he hummed along.
Dwayne went back the next week. Helen had given him a severe talking to after he told her about the coffee hour. "YOU TURNED HIM DOWN? " "Well, he never really asked me." "YOU DIDN'T GIVE HIM A CHANCE. " "Well, you have a point. " "I hope to CHRIST you're calling him." "Can't. We didn't exchange numbers." "YOU TWIT. Maybe I need to go with you and act as your wingwoman." "NO. NO. Not again." The last time Helen had done that, Dwayne had a 19 year old blond in his bed who begged that Dwayne fuck him, then put him in the tub and piss on him - something completely out of Dwayne's repertoire. That night, he fantasized about having been captured by Dave as a villain, and slowly being broken. He repeated that fantasy a few times that week, and at work when things were slow.
"Hey Dwayne, welcome back." Pamela was at the door as Dwayne walked in. "Hello. Thank you. It was nice last week." "You're welcome here any time. Can I find you a seat?" "No, no. That's fine." She gave him a smile. "Dave is sitting off to the left . She pointed. Dwayne saw that he was sitting next to a burly looking guy with dirty blond hair. "No, that's ok. He seems occupied." Pamela laughed. "That's his COUSIN, Dwayne. His cousins introduced him to the church. We're glad he did. Does a lot around here. Interprets sometimes when we get foreign visitors, good donor, not afraid of physical labor. Lesbians like him too." "Interprets? He speaks something other than English?" "Ha ha. Four others. Italian, German, Spanish. Japanese." "Impressive." Dwayne didn't mention his Russian "Listen, there's room if you want to join them. " "No, it's ok. I like being back here. It's more open."
And at the end of the service, Dwayne went to the social. He saw Dave: he wasn't chatting with his cousin, who seemed to have left, but he was chatting with a few people. Dwayne took a deep breath: this was hard for him, and he went up to the crowd. Dave saw him "DWAYNE! You came back. Good to see you again. Let me introduce you." Dwayne heard the names, but he was really in a different place. He began thinking about his fantasies about Dave. The fantasies were blown apart when Dave finished the introduction and said. "I'm gonna have to get going gang. Take care." He smiled at Dwayne. "Glad you came back. Safe travels." Dwayne stared after Dave and the guys noticed. "He's fine isn't he Dwayne?" "Uh, yeah, he's ok." One lowered his voice. "He thinks YOU'RE the sexiest man to walk into this building in the last year. You have any idea how badly he wants to date you?" "No. He didn't say anything?" Another one of the guys spoke. "Well, he told us what you had done last week. It took him by surprise. Dave isn't used to getting turned down." Dwayne blushed and sputtered. "I... I... I guess I'm not used to getting flirted with." They looked at each other and laughed. "Well, if you go out with Dave, you won't be. No one approaches Dave's man: he makes clear: who he dates is HIS. But if you don't, trust me babe, you'll start getting them. Three quarters of the men here are dying to have you on top of them. Dwayne "blushed to the roots" as they say. "Well, they'll be disappointed." There was a look between them, and a roll of eyes. "Dave must've smelled that out because, to be with Dave is to be on your back. I know..." There was a moment of silence. "I think I owe Dave an apology. By any chance, would any of you be willing to let me have his number?" "I think that would be ok," one of them said to Dwayne and after he got Dwayne's number, texted it to him. He didn't tell Dwayne that Dave had told them to do that.
It was Tuesday night when Dwayne punched in Dave's number. "Hello," came from Dave, and Dwayne answered "Hello," and then went silent. "I'm sorry, but I don't know who's on the phone. " "Oh. Sorry. It's Dwayne." (The man who had given Dwayne Dave's number had reported back to him, so Dave wasn't completely surprised). "Hello Dwayne. How are you tonight?" As he heard Dave's voice, Dwayne began to play with himself. "I'm fine. I'm glad I found you because I know you work a lot." "I'm at the office now. Saving the world from its own errs." He laughed. "What can I do for ya Dwayne?" He heard the deep breath Dwayne took. "Well, I owe you an apology, Dave. I'm sorry. I was... well, I was an asshole. No other way to put it. I didn't know how to react." Dwayne was trying to hold tears. "I don't remember the last time someone touched me and I felt that good." "hmmmmmmmmm ." thought Dave. "This may be easy." "I appreciate your honesty, Dwayne. " He paused. "Listen, this may seem very forward. VERY forward but... do you want to do something before church next week? Or just skip church and do something else?" "OH! I didn't expect that. Yes, I really would." Dave smiled on his end of the phone. "Well, we could meet up on Sunday, or on Saturday if you like." He paused now. "Just two things. First, if you want to get together on Saturday, I hope you'll pack an overnight bag. And... I'm sure the cackling hens of the church have told you what I like. Is that going to work for you?" Dwayne had rehearsed what he said next. "Yes sir." "I like that Dwayne. I like it when a man knows his place." "You may have to teach me Sir. Do you want me to come on Saturday?" "I want you to cum every day, dwayne, but seeing you on Saturday? SURE.
You know, I don't know what YOU like." "Oh it's silly. Don't worry about that." "I'll find out. I'll make you tell me." Dwayne felt his cock nearly bust out of his pants. "We'll see, Sir." "And I'll see you Saturday. Call me when you're leaving your house. I may be at the office. I'll come and meet you." "Yes sir," Dwayne answered. Was that a kiss that Dave gave him over the phone? It was. And it was because Dwayne wasn't the only one who jerked off after the call.
Dwayne was nearly overwhelmed with anxiety and excitement over his Saturday date. He had Helen come over to help him pick what to bring. She was good at that, but Dwayne unpacked the bag, repacked it, unpacked it, and finally repacked it with what she had chosen. He pulled up Dave's number and texted him. "Getting in the car now, Sir. 90 minutes?" Dave texted back an address. In just about 85 minutes, Dwayne was pulling into an open parking lot. He saw Dave leaning up against the fence, arms folded. "DAMN" dwayne thought. Dave was wearing a black leather jacket and black jeans. His sweater was dark blue, over a white shirt. "Hello Sir," dwayne said as he stood in front of Dave. Dave was tall, but still nearly 5 inches shorter than dwayne, who had put his hands behind his back. "Welcome back. " Dave craned up and kissed dwayne, shoving his tongue into his mouth. "Your keys in your pocket?" "Yes sir. Left side." "Ha ha. Left side is for guys like me dwayne. I'll drive. I got a license, don't worry. Dwayne WAS worried. The car was his baby. He needn't have. Dave was an excellent driver. They pulled up in front of a building in Soho. "We don't have an indoor garage, unfortunately, so I just wanted to show you the building before we take it off to a place I trust. Just about a block away. Your bag in the trunk?" "yes sir." Heh heh. I hope you don't mind waiting until you unpack it, cause, tree top dwayne... I got something I need to unpack and it can't wait."
To be continued.....