If you're on Nifty you know what to expect. This is totally fictional and if any of these guys or events exist, I don't know them.
Please contribute what you can to nifty so we can all keep enjoying this, you get a lot more from here than you get from going to a movie.
https://donate.nifty.org/
I lay in bed looking at the beautiful young man asleep next to me. Though last night proved he's no angel, he sure looks like one right now.
A woman's voice called out, "Will, wake Finn, breakfast will be ready in thirty minutes." I'm Finn. Finnegan Ryan Murphy. The bedroom door opened and I sat up on my right elbow. "Good morning, Uncle Willy," I said. He hated me calling him that. Willy for obvious reasons, but he hated Uncle more. Why? because I'm 19 years to the day older than he is. Let me give you closure on that. My grandmother died and my grandfather married a much younger woman. Will is their child. He is my father's half-brother, therefore my uncle.
"Edith says to come down for breakfast," he said as he entered the room. He was dressed for work from the waist down and wore a white t-shirt.
"Who the hell is that? You're not going gay on us, are you?"
"No, Will, I'm not going gay." He didn't know that I was `gone gay' while he was still in diapers.
"I don't think he's legal, Finn."
"What does legal have to do with anything? This is Michael French. I met him in a cocktail lounge last night. He needed a place to bed down, so I brought him home with me."
"Well, Finn, if he calls the cops on you, you might find your newly retired ass in jail for twenty years."
"Not a problem, Will. To use your words, he's legal. He was drinking."
Michael woke up, said, "Good morning, Finn. Good morning, Mr. Murphy. Don't let me interrupt," then rolled over on his belly. His ass even caught Will's attention, and Will was military and straight as an arrow.
"I don't know how I'm going to tell Edith."
"You don't have to, Will. She was downstairs when we came in this morning. She's already met him."
Will left saying. "Breakfast in twenty, guys."
Back pedaling to last night:
Baltimore doesn't have too many gay bars (my cocktail lounge.) Most are mixed gay; only a couple are exclusively male by patron choice. I was standing at the bar nursing a drink when this young man walked up next to me.
"You come here often?"
"That is so fucking trite!" I said, laughing.
"I know it is, but it's so trite it works. I've got you hooked," he said, smiling.
I learned a long time ago you don't ask an apparently too young man his age. It's too easy to lie. Ask the year he was born. If he hesitates, he's toast.
"1915," the young man said, without batting an eye.
I blew a swallow of my drink out my nose. "You're hustling me, aren't you?"
"No sir, I'll prove it." "Barkeep, get this man another drink. Put it on my tab." Barkeep was a pretty dated word I thought.
The bartender set a drink down and then asked, "Anything more for you sir?" The young man shook his beer bottle and said, "Not just yet."
"I guess that you're twenty-one or you wouldn't be being served. One hundred and seven I kind of doubt. I don't think anyone is that old."
"With 8 billion people in the world, there has to be a few. Perhaps, one or two of them like me."
We made our introductions. "I'm Finnegan Murphy."
"A pleasure to meet you, I'm Michael French, Mr. Murphy."
"It's Finn, Mr. French."
"Awkward! No offense intended, Finn. I'm Mike."
"None taken, Mike."
A young man came and stood next to Michael. "Hi, guy, want some company?"
"I have some already, thank you."
"Your loss, sweet cheeks," he said leaving, and patted Mike on the butt. Mike turned, put his upper teeth on his lower lip. It looked like he was going to say "Fuck you!" What he said was "Fun."
"Why didn't you go with him? He's cute."
"Yeah, he's cute. But he's obnoxious and he's about as shallow as a puddle of cum on the floor." Mike is an anomaly. At some points he has the savoir faire of Walter Pidgeon, at others he exhibits the sophistication of Wally Cleaver. "I chose you. I'm not looking for the kind of fun that he is," said Mike.
Pity, I thought.
"Do you want to grab a table, Finn?" "Sure." Michael tapped his empty bottle on the bar to get the bar tender's attention. "Another for you, sir?" Mike nodded, "We're going to grab a table." He was drinking nice imported stuff, a Czech Pilsner, instead of the myriad Miller Light cans scattered everywhere. The bartender brought the beer.
Mike and I occupied the table for a long time. I said, "You seem very well informed for a man your age."
"I ought to be," he answered. "I've got eight college degrees ranging from the physical sciences to the fine arts."
"You've got to stop pulling my leg, Michael. I won't be able to stand up straight."
"I'll try to alternate," he said, sipping his beer.
Last-call bell, the bar was closing. "Do you want anything else?
I shook my head no, and said, "Do you have a place to stay?"
"Are you hustling me now, Finn? I don't, but I'll find something."
"Do you want to come home with me?"
"You live in Baltimore?"
"No, Philadelphia, but I'm visiting relatives."
"Would I be welcome?"
"I'm sure, but if you're not we'll both walk out. Should I call a taxi?"
"No, I've got a car," said Mike.
We got in the car and Mike asked, "Do you know where we're going."
"Yes, more or less," I answered. He asked if I knew the address. I nodded. He pulled out his phone.
"No addresses saved." said the phone.
"It's got your voice!"
"Yeah, cool huh?" Mike said. "Tell him, Finn." I spoke the address.
"Private residence, Ellicott City, Maryland, William and Edith Murphy. Calculating route; 20 minutes."
"Shit, Mike, how did it know?"
"I don't know, I guess it looks it up."
"Can I try something? Give me your phone." He did.
"New address," I said.
"Shall I save current address?"
"Yes," said Michael. "William Murphy saved. What is the new address."
I gave it the address of my condo.
"Private condominium, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Finnegan Murphy. Calculating route; one hour and 40 minutes."
"Can I get one of these, Mike?'
"I don't think so."
Michael said, "Cancel guidance, save address."
"Finnegan Murphy saved."
Two saved addresses, do you want Finnegan Murphy?
"No," said Mike.
"Do you want William Murphy?"
"Yes."
"Private residence, Ellicott City, Maryland, William and Edith Murphy. Calculating route; 20 minutes."
"Destination is on the right."
"Have a good morning, gentlemen." Not only did the phone know there were two men in the car, it knew what time it was.
"That's it, the Georgian." I expected to have to tell him which house had a Georgian architecture, but he pulled up right in front.
Back to the bedroom:
"Why are you here, Mike?"
"Because you invited me."
"You know what I mean. What is a young man like you doing in an old man's bed?" He rolled on his back, pushed the duvet down to his waist, put my hand on his well-developed chest and put his hands on my hand.
"First of all, Finn, I'm older than you."
"So you say."
"Secondly, I like you, and I trust you for some odd reason. That's not easy for me to say, let alone do. I haven't said that to a man in a long time."
"Like maybe five years, Mike?" I chuckled.
"Way more," he said. "Will said you're retired; you don't look old enough."
I had been thumbing a very happy nipple, Mike moved my hand to his furry belly. I wanted to dive under the duvet where other happiness was apparent, but we didn't have time.
"I'm sixty, Mike. Probably not old enough to retire these days, but wealthy enough. I retired from a marketing firm that my best friend and business school roommate, Ira Liebowitz, and I started. L & M Partners, Ltd., A Marketing Firm since 1990, is what it says on the door. We were equal partners, but L & M falls easier on the ear than M & L. I have a nice bank account, good retirement pension, and the firm will buy me out when the paper work is ready. I'll be rolling in dough. More than I ever thought possible. Ira will probably retire in a few years and his kid will take over."
"Did you and he, you know." Rudy bumped his hips.
"Regularly, as recently as earlier this month."
"And his kid?"
"Janet Liebowitz isn't my type."
I slapped Mike on the belly and a nice eight-pack appeared reflexively.
"We've got to get up. We don't want to keep Edith waiting."
"Kiss me, Finn." I did. We got up, showered together quickly, then dressed. When we got to the kitchen, Edith greeted us.
"Good morning, Finn, and your friend too. I'm sorry, young man, I forget your name."
"It was late, Mrs. Murphy. I'm Michael French, Mike."
"Mrs. Murphy is Will's mother, I'm Edith."
"Thank you, Edith."
"Everyone sit down. There's plenty of food. What would everyone like to drink." Will already had a coffee.
"Coffee, please, Edith, black as usual" I said.
"Do you have milk?" asked Mike.
"Low fat, OK?"
"Just fine, Edith," Michael wanted milk. Yeah, like he's not really a baby I thought.
Edith is a good cook, and loves to show off to guests. She would have done this for me. Michael just gave her more reason.
Over breakfast, Edith asked. "Are you from Baltimore, Mike?"
"No Edith, just here for a couple of days."
"Do you have a place to stay tonight. You can stay with us again if you like."
"Is that OK with you, Finn?" Mike asked. I nodded.
"You can have Ben's (my cousin, Will and Edith's son) room, he's away on a boy scout camping trip. "
"If it's alright with you, I'll bunk down with Finn, again. I was a teen-age boy once. I don't think Ben would like the idea of a stranger having access to his stuff."
"He can stay with me, Edith. Mike doesn't snore, and it's nice to have someone in bed with me for a change who doesn't expect anything from me. Not that I don't sleep alone most all of the time anyway."
Mike dropped his fork, bent over to pick it up, and stabbed me in the calf with it.
"Let me get you a clean one," Edith Jumped up. What do you do for a living, Mike?"
"I travel."
"You're in sales?"
"Edith!"
"I'm just making polite conversation, Will."
"No you're not, you're being nosy." Will said, as he refolded the sports page.
"Do you gentlemen have plans for the day?" She looked at Will. He ignored her.
"I haven't discussed it with Mike, yet, but I was going to invite him to see some of Baltimore, and take him to Scuppers for dinner."
"Oh Finn, there are so many nicer restaurants."
"Don't confuse pretention with what's good, Edith. You know Scuppers has the freshest and best seafood in town; and the view over the inner harbor has more natural ambiance than tuxedoed waiters and more silverware than anyone needs."
"Do you want to use my car," said Edith, "Rachel can drive me to the school (Edith was a teacher.)"
"That won't be necessary, Edith, I have a rental," said Mike.
"You rented a car?"
"I'm older than I seem, ma'am." That "ma'am" rather than "Edith" was a polite way of telling her she was getting nosy again.
"Can I get you something else, Mike? "No Edith, thank you, I haven't had a homemade breakfast like that in a very long time, and to be able to share it with new friends made it so much the better."
"You're sure you're finished? There's plenty more. You're all skin and bones."
"Will put the paper and his coffee cup down. "When did you stop noticing muscle, Edie? I've got to get going to the Garrison." Ft. Meade was where Will was stationed.
"Do you have a hug for your only nephew?" "Haven't I always," said Will.
Edith straightened Will's tie, but it didn't need it. He put on his jacket and cover. Major William Forsyth (Edith's maiden name) Murphy, U.S. Army. He was striking.
Edith walked him to the door. Mike said, "Will is a looker."
"Do you know what a man in uniform does to me?"
"I guess anything he wants, Finn."
I picked up my fork, menacingly, laughed and put it down. Edith came back.
"So are we on, Mike? I'd like to catch about an hour's nap first."
"Make it two and it's a go," said Mike. "Finn and I can clean things up here, Edith. Go and get ready. Though you look wonderful the way you are."
"You are such a charmer, Michael, but don't stop."
We began KP. Just as we were finishing. Edith came in. I kissed her, so did Mike. "Are you going to be out late?"
"Probably ten or so." I answered
"We'll be up to say goodnight."
Michael and I went back to the guest room. "Does that door lock?"
"I don't know, Mike, but we're the only one's here. Will wouldn't have come in if he had known you were here."
"Kiss me, Finn." I kissed him.
"No not like you'd kiss Edith, kiss me like you'd kiss Will, I know you want him."
The thought had crossed my mind a few times especially when he was younger. He still is a very desirable man at forty-one.
I don't think Mike was ready for what he asked for.
"Oh yeah, Finn, like that. Do it again."
We kissed and undressed each other. "Are we really going to nap, Mike? I need one."
"Yeah, but why do you think I said two hours, doofus?"
We slept for about an hour and a half in each other's arms, woke slowly, and then went crazy. I was all over Mike's body with my hands and my mouth. He did the same to me. We ended with a real sweet sixty-nine. "I feel really good, Mike."
"Mutual, are we going to do that again?"
"Probably tonight," I answered.
"What about Will and Edith?"
"They've got a suite downstairs, the only thing up here is the guest room, Ben's room, the laundry, a bathroom, and a study. No one will come up, and no one will hear anything. More privacy than a hotel."
"Finn, I've got something I have to tell you." I rolled over and looked him in the eye.
"I'm not Michael French. My real name is Rudyard Kipling Valenti, Rudy." he said.
"Who's Michael French?"
"Me. I'll always be Rudy Valenti, Michael French won't be around that much longer."
"I don't understand, Mike, Rudy, whoever you are."
"You will."
We got out of bed. I had had a lot of fun with Mike's body, but I'd never really seen it. He is a thing of beauty. Five feet ten inches of perfectly toned muscle. Except for the light coating of fur, Michealangelo could have used him as the model for David, curly hair and all, except for the foreskin. Mike doesn't have one. This is sort of inconsistent with his apparent age. Young men born in the late years of the 20th century were less likely to be circumcised (less than 40%) than in the early years (70 %). While this is only circumstantial evidence, the presence of an appendectomy scar is more meaningful. Though he appears right now to be at the prime age for appendectomies, this wound is not new. Further, most appendectomies are done laparoscopically now. His is an open incision. The scar is very hard to see with his abdominal fuzz, but it's there. This form of surgery was common in the early 1900's. I don't have the scar, but my dad did. If Mike is telling the truth, he's older than my father. I doubt it, but it seems like he's older than he looks.
Not only is his body unbelievable, he moves it effortlessly like a panther, oozing pure masculinity. I got another boner just watching him.
"Do you want me to take care of that for you, Finn?"
"Later, he really hasn't done repeats for years."
"I can try, it can't hurt."
"Oh, yes it can," I replied!
"Get dressed, Finn, I've got to make a couple of calls to make. Then we'll go," said Rudy.
I pointed to his leather knapsack, "Is that secure, "I asked, "or do you want to take it with us?"
"It's secure," answered Rudy. "Once I lock it, only my thumb print will open it." Rudy locked it and put it in the closet, then he took a red card out of his wallet and stuffed it under the mattress. "If that knapsack gets further than thirty feet from that card, it will announce WARNING, ALARM WILL SOUND. I tried it once, I had to. It lets out a deafening wail. Anyone carrying it would have to drop it. It can't be turned off unless it's unlocked, and only I can do that."
"You've thought of everything."
"I have to Finn, I have to. Everything I am, everything I own is in that bag. I have nothing else, I don't have a home, I don't have any family, I don't have any friends."
"Please don't take this wrong. If that is really all you have, do you need some money, Rudy?"
"No, money I have plenty of, do you know what one dollar invested in the stock market in 1935 is worth today?"
"There you go again!"
We headed off to see Baltimore, it's an old and varied city. It's 300 years old, almost 200 years older than Rudy, I thought, and smiled broadly and chuckled.
"What's so funny, Finn?"
"You."
I suggested all the tourist sites; Fort McHenry, the National Aquarium, touring the classic neighborhoods, and more. He said he's seen them before.
"I've been here a couple of times. Let me show you something, Finn." He drove to a hilly park. "Follow me, Finn."
The park had jogging trails and hiking paths, but he set off up a hill. There was a beautiful grassy meadow overlooking the harbor. "Sit down, Finn."
"Isn't this place great?"," said Rudy. "The last time I was here it was very private. The man sitting where you are was totally naked, and so was I."
"I guess you weren't here for a picnic."
"Oh yes, we were, and we both had plenty to eat without ruining our appetites. But that was a long time ago, you couldn't get away with it now."
"Long time ago, let me guess, twenty years?" I said.
"More like forty, Finn."
"Will you ever give that up?"
"I've nothing to give up. Lay down Finn."
I did and he kissed me, not like earlier, but it was a warm and protracted kiss. He laid on my stomach. "The old days were good," said Rudy. "Yes, they were," I agreed.
We rested for a while then I said, "Is that pizza I smell?"
"Yeah, it's why I'm in Baltimore this weekend. There's a pizza cookoff in the park today. Food trucks have come from all over the eastern U.S. to compete. The pizza samples are free, but there's a ten buck entry fee."
We walked over to the event even though there was parking, at least there was earlier. We would have walked farther from an available parking space than we did from the hilltop.
"This is my party, and it's Michael while we're here." He said, dropping a twenty on the entry table.
They stamped our hands and gave us two tokens.
"Keep these chips, gentleman. You can use them to vote for your favorite pizza when you leave."
"Where shall we start, Michael?"
"That truck over there looks interesting, very Venetian. Let's start there, Finn."
"Is that the way to spell Gondolier?" asked Mike.
"It is in Venice." I answered.
"You been there?"
"Yes, twice., Rudy."
"Even though I travel all the time, I've never been out of the country, well out of Canada, the United States, Mexico, and cruising the Caribbean. Though I'd like to go to Europe and the Orient, it has always posed complications I couldn't afford to encounter. I don't really know a foreign language but I know some words. A little French from Montreal. Of course I know a bit of Spanish from Mexico and the Caribbean."
We walked up and I asked a man standing there, "This your show?"
"No," he answered, "it's his." He pointed at a man tossing pizza dough. "His name is Keith ," he waved back.
"Are you two brothers?"
"No, just friends."
"You look so much alike," he said.
"Perhaps that's why we like each other."
"Are you his grandfather?" he asked me.
Michael responded, "He can't be, I'm older than he is." We all laughed, but the guy at the pizza truck clearly didn't know why.
A young man came up with a tray of pizza samples. In a pleasant baritone voice he said, "I'm Joey. Welcome to El Gondoliere, gentlemen. Would you like to enjoy a taste of our culinary artistry?"
"Well said young man, and the costumes are spot on." They were all wearing red striped boat-necked half sleeve t's, black slacks or shorts, and gondolier straw hats with red ribbons.
I pointed at the sign on the truck and said," I've been to Italy, son. That's a pretty bold claim, `best this side of Vesuvius.' All of Naples itself is this side of Vesuvius."
"If would be bold if it weren't true, sir." he replied.
"What do you have for us this afternoon?" Mike asked.
Joey answered, "Theses are clams casino, very unique. These are Margharita with fresh basil and arugula. And these are traditional but none the less excellent pepperoni."
"No middle slices?" I asked.
"No middle slices, if you haven't tasted our crust, you haven't tasted our pizza. Special mineral waters, imported high gluten Italian flours, live yeast cultures."
"Thank you, young man, this is truly excellent; and the crust is just as you say."
"Have you tried any others," Joey asked.
I answered, "No." expecting to be asked how they compared. He replied, "I apologize gentlemen, but the rest of your visit today is going to be a disappointment."
They turned back to me and said, "Arrivederci." I thanked them for visiting, waved goodbye, then gave Joey a big thumbs up. Joey was so damn cool, he could sell a sequined g-string to a nun.
When we exited the grounds Mike asked the man at the gate, "What do we do with these?"
"Who do you want to vote for?"
Mike looked at me. I said, "Is there any question?"
He told the gentleman. Give them both to Il Gondoliere.
"Two more for The Gondolier." He called.
As we walked away. "That was so good, Mike, and there's something about those two men."
'are you talking about the hunks at the Gondolier?"
"Yes, I don't know what it is, Mike; but there's something about them." I began musing ....
(This is what Finn imagined.)
R-r-r-r-ing, r-r-r-r-ing, click.
"It's your dime. Talk."
"Still the same silver-tongued Keith," I said." "It's me, Greg."
"Sorry, Greg, you didn't show up on my caller ID! I thought you were spam. It's really good to hear your voice. It's been a long time."
"It has."
"Over a year since I've talked to you, and longer than that since we've been together, Greg."
"Has it been that long, Keith?"
"The last I talked to you was your birthday, on Mothers' Day last year."
"The road between Arlington and Annapolis isn't that long, Greg; and the phones are still in place."
"That road goes both ways, and so do the phones."
"Are you apologizing or complaining?"
"A bit of both," said Greg.
"I'm not just calling to say hi. I've got a three-day weekend and I thought we could get together."
"That sounds fantastic, but I've got commitments, Greg. I've got a Pizza cookoff this Saturday in Baltimore, a major one. I'm taking the gondola up."
"Sounds like fun, can I go with you?"
"Have I ever said `NO' to you?"
"Not that I can remember. I can drive us up in my truck, unless you have to go with the gondola. We can sleep in the truck bed, the weather this weekend is nice all up and down the eastern seaboard."
"My crew is taking the kitchen. I was going to drive up later, but I'd love to go with you, Greg. Can't do the truck bed, though. I've got to get a good night's sleep if I'm going to win this thing on Saturday; but I've got a motel we can share."
"Oh, the thought of sharing a bed with you again, Keith, makes my mouth drip, among other things."
"I see time hasn't trimmed your horns, which is good. Tomorrow evening around five. I've got a new place. I'll text you the address."
"I'll be there!"
I pulled up to his place at five on the dot. Keith came out immediately, carrying a backpack. I jumped out of the truck and ran to meet him. "Just as handsome as ever," I said.
"I'll bet you say that to all the guys, Greg."
"Only the ones that are. Kiss me."
"Here?"
"No," I said pointing to my lips, "here."
We did. It was longer than I expected it to last, but just as nice as I remembered.
"I was wondering who was going to break the ice, and when." Keith said.
"There's no ice between us, Keith, never has been, just warm still waters."
"I know that, Greg, it's just ..."
"I know, Keith, it has been a long time. Hop in."
It was rush-hour on Friday, it took over an hour and a half to get to Baltimore from Annapolis. We used the time to catch up. "What are all those midshipmen going to do while you're in Baltimore?"
"Eat a lot of second-rate pizza. They keep me pretty busy on weekends."
"Do any of them, you know what I mean, ever express their gratitude?"
"Have you gone pederast on me, Greg? They are for the most part handsome, all nicely put together, but they're babies. When I want a man. I want a MAN!" he said, grabbing me high and tight on the inner right thigh.
"You'll have one once we get to Baltimore, if I can wait that long. There's always the truck bed."
We both laughed.
The skyline of Baltimore loomed up ahead, dominated by the huge but uninspiring architecture of the TransAmerica Tower. We arrived in the city and decided to grab some dinner in one of the many seafood restaurants along the inner harbor.
We were seated. They gave us menus and took our drink order, two pints of a local IPA craft beer.
Opening the menu, I said. "Maybe we should order oysters (knowing neither of us ate them), Keith, not that we've ever needed an aphrodisiac."
"Do they really work," Keith asked.
"Yes, but only if you want them too. It's mostly in your head. They have no direct effect on your Willy. Perhaps we should be eating snails instead."
"I don't get it," said Keith.
"I stole that from an old movie. In it an older Laurence Olivier tries to seduce a young Tony Curtis by asking him if he eats oysters or snails, then tells him that his (Olivier's) tastes go to both oysters and snails."
"I still don't get it?"
"Well, I guess you know what an oyster supposedly looks like, or may know for sure. Have you ever seen a large garden snail? They sit on a branch, short and still, until agitated. Then they grow to many times their quiescent size."
"I get it, now! Perhaps we should be sucking snails rather than oysters."
"We'll take care of than later, Keith."
Keith had soft-shell crabs and I had crab cakes, they really are the best when eaten in Baltimore.
We walked dinner off along the harbor. As the sun was setting Keith said, "We better get going to the motel. We've got to be up and out at 6 A.M., at least I do."
"It'll be us, not just you. This weekend its always going to be us."
We checked in to the motel. It was nicer than I expected. "Motel" conjures up images of bleak accommodations, and psychotic murderers. This place didn't have all the perks of a hotel, but we didn't need them. Other than that, it was a very nice place. "Let's hit the shower," said Keith, "Then I've got to get to bed." He kissed me sweetly, "... to sleep, papa bear." I hadn't been called than since we were last naked together, I'm hardly more than a year older than he is, but I am quite a bit hairier.
Showering together was a lot of fun, as always. I felt something sticking in my butt crack. "Is than a bar of soap or are you happy to be in here with me."
"Very happy. Can I wash your back?
"You can wash anything you want."
Keith washed my hairy back then my hairy front, still standing behind me with his happy little man pressed against my butt crack.
"My turn, Keith, "I said. Keith and I are both gay wolf types, but I'm hairy like a black bear. Unlike me, Keith is furry with the hair of an otter. It's really fun to play in. It's one color, golden brown, all the way from his head (hair and beard) to his ankles. While I soaped him, we were locked in a long deep French kiss.
"Stand still, I want to do something."
I did, and Keith grabbed my semi -stiff cock and slipped his foreskin over my glans. It looked like an endless cock holding two men together. As Keith stroked us, we both got harder and the foreskin slipped off me and behind his glans.
"While I prefer men like me, I've got nothing against men with cocks like you, Keith. It's the way they're supposed to be, I guess. I don't exactly go cruising around looking for foreskins, but I have had a few. You are the only one I've done this with though."
"Can't say the same, Greg. I like doing that a lot."
"Let's dry you off and get you in bed. I have the perfect way to put you to sleep.
Keith laid on the bed and I climbed between his legs. He was semi-hard again, almost flaccid. I held his cock and slipped my tongue under his foreskin and rubbed it around his glans and corona, and licked his frenulum. I was pretty aggressive doing it.
"Oh Greg, I'd say I forgot how good that feels, but no one could forget that."
"You're too kind, Keith. I'm going to edge you for about twenty minutes, then I'll let you blow your load. I'll know when, you won't have to tell me."
"Grab your knees, I'm going after your love button."
I felt his tongue slide between my ass cheeks and he began flicking and sucking my anus. I moaned. Then he started playing with the part of the boner that goes beneath the balls and between your legs. Done right, it feels almost as good as playing with your cock, but a lot of guys don't even know it's there.
"Legs down."
Greg went back to my shaft and alternated between it and my balls. He nibbled, licked, and sucked on my frenulum and coronal ring. I was panting. I finally let loose. It seemed like the spasms would never stop. Greg handed me a warm wash cloth.
"Clean him up and then get under the covers."
"What about you, Greg?"
"My guy can wait. I'm not a kid anymore."
"Do you want to be big spoon or little spoon, Keith?'
"Little spoon. I'm feeling totally pampered right now."
I crawled into bed behind him, then nestled his naked butt in my lap. "Good night baby bear."
"Goodnight papa bear."
I came back to the room with coffee. Greg was still asleep. He was laying on his belly. I pulled the sheets below his hairy bubble butt and kissed and licked the V at the top of his butt crack until he started to wake. I grabbed both globes of his ass and said, "Wake up sweet cheeks."
He rolled over. The sheets barely covered his morning wood. I grabbed his hard cock through the sheet and asked, "Do you want me to take care of that?"
"No, it's just a piss hard. I took care of him last night while spooning you. I worked one out on your ass cheeks and soaked that curly tuft of hair above your ass crack with cum. It should have been a bit crusty this morning."
"Why didn't you just fuck me, Greg?"
"I tried, but your ass wouldn't let me in."
"I brought you some coffee. Slug it down then you can catch a quick shower before we have to leave."
"Want to join me?"
"We don't have time for that now. Tonight, for sure; and a lot more!"
Greg jumped out of bed, grabbed his pack and headed for the bathroom. I sighed. He is a beautiful bear of a man.
Shortly he came back, wearing a wine colored old-school jock. "Greg, there Isn't a man on earth who fills a jock the way you do. There are some who put more in one, but you just look damn good." Most guys just dump their junk in the pouch. Greg positions himself. Even across the room you can see the outline of his shaft. The nice round head lying low on his balls, both nicely shaped. You can see the right one is a little bigger, and the cleft between the two balls is visible.
"Maroon looks good on you, Greg."
"Thanks, I like it," he said, pulling a matching t-shirt out of his bag and slipping into it.
"Whoa, coordinated. Are you regressing to your onesies days or becoming obsessive-compulsive. I'm just teasing. Looks really sharp."
"Do you see my shorts?"
"There over here on the bed behind me."
"Thrown them to me, will you?"
"Nope, come and get them yourself."
As Greg got closer, I grabbed his ass and pulled his crotch to my face and started chewing on his cock and balls through the mesh pouch.
"Hold it, Keith. If we didn't have time to shower, we sure the hell don't have time for this."
I gave his cock a kiss and said, "You're right, we better go get some breakfast and get to the park."
We got to the cookoff arena. Keith registered me as a worker and drove to his site. I knew he had changed the look of the truck, but this is the first time I'd seen it. There was a large flattering caricature of Keith on the truck in gondolier dress biting the crust of a pizza slice.
It said "El Gondoliere" across the top, and "The best Neapolitan pizza this side of Vesuvius.".
"That looks really cool, Keith. It must have cost a chunk of change."
"A friend did it for me. Didn't cost me a thing. We exchanged services."
"He must have gotten a lot of pizza."
"He's strictly Keto, won't touch Pizza. I traded other services," he said, winking.
"Why you old whore," I said.
"I beg your pardon, Greg, I am not old!" We laughed.
I've got to go change." He got in the truck, shortly four people came out; Keith, two women, and a young man. All were dressed the same, a red and white striped boat-necked half-sleeved t-shirt, black slacks or shorts. and a gondolier's straw hat with red ribbons.
"Looks really on theme. How come no logo on the shirt?"
He turned around. There on his back was El Gondoliere, Annapolis, MD with a phone number and web address. "Call or log on to see where the gondola is scheduled to dock this week."
"Why not on your chest, everyone notices your chest?"
"They'll see my chest, not the logo. Besides, my back is bigger."
"You're right, there, on both counts, Keith."
Keith made introductions. Jane and Jenny (spouses, I found out later.) Joey was the young man, about 23 years old. "Let's get to work. We've got five grand to win and half of it is yours." Everybody got busy. It was like clockwork. They all knew what they had to do. I walked over to Keith who was setting up the assembly table and began to work on the dough I stood behind him and unobtrusively rubbed my hand along his ass crack.
"Joey is cute, do you ever ..."
"No; one, he's a baby, and two, I never play where I work. What are you doing back there?"
"Just being friendly, Keith."
"Please don't. You're in a jock, but I'm free-balling it. Keep that up and these pleated slacks will be well tented soon. With flour all over my hands, I can't adjust him."
"Please stop, Greg! I've got work to do. Later, anywhere any time."
"Promise?'
"Promise, I said,' putting a dab of flour on his nose. "Go bug Joey if you're so damn interested. I don't know how he swings. You've got your truck. But he does have work to do."
I came back. "Nobody needs any help. Maybe you're over hired."
"Just wait. Things are going to get real busy in about an hour. "
I didn't want to insult, Greg, but they all probably politely refused his help because they all knew if Greg screwed anything up, there wouldn't be time to fix it.
"There's got to be something I can do to help."
"There will be, Greg. Once the gate opens you can just stand here and look sexy. That will get all the gays and single women over here."
"You don't need me for that, Keith."
Pizzas were going in and out of the oven and into warmers. The loud speaker announced, "Gate opens in five minutes."
Keith turned to his team and hollered, "Group hug!" They all did. "You get in here too, Greg." I did, right between Keith and Joey. We all high fived. "Onward to victory," called Keith. The team repeated him, "Victory!" People started walking in slowly. Joey was handing out samples to attendees. None of them took only one.
"Greg! I expected Keith to be here. I never expected to see you."
"Hello, A.J. (Anne Jeffries) it's been years." A.J. lived in Baltimore, but we all three went to school together.
"Hey, Keith," She called. Keith waved and smiled under a spinning disk of pizza dough.
"Are you working, Greg, or can we walk around together?"
"Let's put that in front of Keith and see what he says."
"Go ahead," Keith said, "but talk up El Gondoliere as you go." He laughed.
"Count on it," A.J. and I said together.
A.J. kept running into her friends. After a while I was just part of the group. Except for A.J. I didn't know any of these people. I should have left then, but two guys tried to make a move on me. They started out subtle, but when they thought they figured out I was gay, their proposals became very graphic. They kept telling me what, where, when and how they were going to do some pretty exotic things to me, separately and jointly (I've got to remember some of them for Keith tonight.) I thanked them for their interest, then told them if they kept up what they were saying, I wouldn't need them. Things would take care of themselves.
"We can tell by the wet spot," one of them said. I was terribly horny, had a boner trapped in my jock, but clearly visible in my shorts. I needed Keith, but there was no way he could give me what I needed right now. I decided going back would just make it worse.
The loud speaker blared. "Attention participants and guests, the event closes in twenty minutes." I looked at my watch, not realizing what time it was. I quickly said goodbye to A.J. and started running toward the gondola. I turned the last corner. It was gone, only my truck was sitting in the space. "Oh, shit!" I said to myself, and ran even faster. Then I saw Keith sitting in the truck bed, shirtless, drinking a beer. Damn that man was more handsome half naked than he was fully undressed. He didn't see me, so I circled around the front of the truck and came up behind him. I put my hands on his furry chest and looked down his body at that massive bulge pushing against the buttons on his jeans. Keith has a decent cock, but that bulge was almost all balls. I said, "Did you miss me?" I was going to kiss his ear, but he shrugged me off and sat up.
"I'm not in the mood, right now, Greg."
"Where did `anywhere, anytime' go?"
"I guess the same place that `it's us' went."
"It was shitty of me Keith, and I am more than sorry. A.J. kept running into friends. Soon we were like a small band of locust moving through the pizza trucks, wiping them out. I ate a lot, Keith, but yours was the best."
"That's what that thing says." He pointed to a trophy laying on its side in the truck.
"You won!"
"I told you I would. It wasn't even close."
Keith threw his half empty bottle of beer at the trash can. He missed, it landed next to two others on the ground. "I'm going to take a walk."
"Can I walk with you?"
"It's your shoe leather."
"What's wrong, Keith?"
"Nothing, I'll get over it."
I grabbed his shoulders and turned him toward me. I shouted, "What are you doing now, turning into a cunt on me? It's not nothing. If you'll get over it, be a man and get over it now. Tell me."
"Are we `just friends,' Greg?"
"I don't understand."
"Today you said at least twelve times to people, "No, we're just friends.' Good friends, old friends, or even friends is better than just friends', Just friends,' is like a knife in the back."
"You know I didn't mean it like that. You and I are like brothers who grew up closely together and haven't seen each other in a while."
"Do you mean that, Greg?"
"Absolutely."
"Everything with you is special to me, Greg, even if we're only taking a piss together side by side."
"I know what you mean. I've seen and played with your junk dozens of times, but when we're taking a piss, I still look at it, Keith, and you."
"You are so special to me, Greg."
"And you, Keith.
We gave each other a full body hug nipples to nipples, navel to navel, and nuts to nuts. We kissed deep and long.
"Are you okay now, Keith?"
"Your place or mine, Greg."
"Yours, its closer, if we can wait that long."
"Are you alright, Finn? You haven't said a thing for five minutes."
"I'm fine, Rudy. I was just daydreaming."
Back at the car we headed to the visitors center to see if there was anything new in the city that Rudy would like to see.
I'm looking forward to dinner, Finn, once the pizza settles. Scuppers wasn't here when I last was." Scuppers was established in 1995 as I recalled.
We got up, walked to the parking lot, and ended up at Scuppers right on time. We had reservations so we were seated almost immediately, right next to the open windows with raised louvres. The lights reflected in the harbor as the sun was setting were enchanting and the sea breeze invigorating.
"Can I get you gentlemen a drink? Do you have an I.D. sir?" The cocktail waitress asked Rudy. "I do, but I'm not drinking, I'm driving. Just water please."
"Water for me, as well, thank you." I answered,
"I'll be back in a moment with your menus."
No sooner had she left when two young girls came up to the table, one brunette with a blonde in tow. The brunette asked, "Can we share your table? I see you have room."
I didn't really want to, I didn't want to share what little time I had with Rudy, he's the most fascinating man I've known, in many ways. "Aren't there any other tables?" I asked.
"There's a ninety-minute wait, and we either have to skip dinner, or the harbor cruise we already paid for."
I looked at Rudy, he nodded subtly. "Then sit down," I said.
"I'm Veronica, she's Betty; you know, like in the Archie comics. You can call me Ronnie. Who are you guys?"
I stood and said, "My name is Finnegan?"
"Like with the rainbow," said Veronica.
"Yes, like Finnegan's Rainbow."
Standing, Rudy said, "My name is Rudy, It's nice to have you join us."
"Rudy? Like the reindeer?" Sitting, Rudy said, "Yes, I suppose."
"Are you his grandfather?"
"I'm not old enough to be his grandfather," I answered.
"Could have fooled me." said Ronnie.
Rudy asked, "Betty, do you have anything you want to say?"
"That's part of being friends with Ronnie, she holds up both sides of the conversation." Rudy chuckled and took her hand and kissed it.
Rubbing the back of her hand, Betty said, "No one's ever done ..."
"Whatever," said Ronnie.
The waitress brought the menus. "We are four," I said. She handed the girls the menus. "I'll be back with two more."
"So, what's good here?" asked Ronnie.
My first thought was to say, if you don't know, why did you come here, it isn't cheap? I said, "Everything."
"No, what's really good?"
"Everything, except the French fries, but you won't miss them. Fries aren't really good unless you have them in Belgium," I answered.
"You've been to Belgium?"
"Several times, Ronnie."
"Cool."
We ordered and dinner came. Rudy and I were in no hurry, but the girls were. Veronica maintained most of the conversation."
"We'd like our check, ma'am. Just her and me. I don't know what these guys' arrangement is."
Betty and Veronica were paying in cash. It was a circus, with Betty and Veronica trying to come up with the right change. Rudy finally grabbed their check and said, "I'll take care of this."
"You mean him, don't you?"
"No, me."
"You can pay for all this yourself? Do you want my phone number?"
"Thank you, Veronica, no."
The girls stood to go. Rudy and I stood and shook their hands, "You have been delightful," I said. "Thoroughly," Rudy added. As the girls left, Rudy and I sat back down. We looked at each other, smiled, and then we both broke up in laughter.
We finished dinner, skipped dessert. Rudy grabbed our check as well. "Let me get that, you're my guest." "Doesn't feel like it," said Rudy. He put both checks and a one hundred and fifty dollars on the tray.
As we left, I commented. "You introduced yourself as Rudy?"
"My bad, but your fault."
"My fault?"
"Yes, if it weren't for you I'd just be Michael French. "Do you want to walk this off a bit, the harbor is beautiful at night."
We walked for about half an hour then Rudy said, "Let's grab this bench, I want to talk to you and show you something." We sat down. "You wanted to know who Mike French and Rudy Valenti are. Michael French is my public persona. Everyone who has had anything to do with me in the last eight years knows me as Michael French. Noone but you and me has known who Rudyard Kipling Valenti is for over fifty years.'
"Do you have to do that, Rudy? It's getting a bit annoying; almost scary."
"I have to, Finn. I was born in 1915, as I said, at the start of the Great War." No one alive calls it that, I thought to myself.
"My mother named me after her side of the family, the Kiplings. I never knew my father and he never knew me. Franco Valenti was my father. He had gone to Umbria to bring his parents back to the states to escape the war. My mother couldn't go with him because she was pregnant with me. He died when the Germans torpedoed the Lusitania."
At least he's consistent, I thought, the Lusitania was sunk in 1915. "Rudy, can we go?"
"Hear me out, Finn." It was more of an order than a request.
Rudy pulled out his phone. He brought up a picture. "Do you know who this is? "Of course I do, Rudy, it's you." He enlarged the picture. "Read this, Finn." I read it once, shook my head, then read it again. Written on the bottom of the picture was, "Happy 18th Birthday, Rudyard, Cape Girardeau, Mo. , 10/11/33."
No one born since 1960 has ever used anything but all capitals when abbreviating state names. "Holy shit! It's true," I said.
"Yes, Finn, every word. That is the only documented picture of me in existence, and I have the only one. You know who I am, but you can't ever use my real name in front of anyone but me."
"What should I call you otherwise?"
"For now, Michael French."
"We better get a move on, gramps. I promised Edith we'd be back around ten."
If you enjoyed this story I'd like to hear fromy ou. If you didn't enjoy it I need to hear from you!