Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. The story contains graphic descriptions of sex between men, and anyone who is forbidden by law to read such material must exit the story now. The characters have unprotected sex, as characters safely can in fiction. Reality, obviously, is another matter entirely.
This story is being posted to the Nifty Archive for the enjoyment of its readers. It may not be posted or distributed by any other medium without the written permission of the author.
Other works by the author in the Nifty Archive include "Unusual Christmas" and the series Nick's Adventures, both in bisexual/high school; "First Mate" and "Twin Spin, Parts 1 and 2" in gay/incest; The Dancer and Call-Boy Journal in gay/encounters; "My First Year with Kevin" in gay/high school; and "From Slave to Houseboy" in gay/authoritarian.
E-mail comments are always welcome. Rob
Chapter 4
We stopped at a small grocery store that seemed to contain more food per cubic inch than any place I'd ever seen before. Rob led me to the meat counter, and he selected two huge steaks of prime beef. As the butcher wrapped them, he asked if I liked twice-baked potatoes. I said I did, so he ordered two gigantic ones for us. They were already cooked and would only have to be heated in the oven. Then he bought a large quantity of something labeled "Wop Salad." It had lettuce and tomatoes in it, but it had all sorts of other things, as well, including marinated artichoke hearts and several types of olives. The counter man included a bag of homemade croutons to go with it. For dessert, Rob picked out a lemon meringue pie that was obviously made on the premises. He also bought sour cream and a loaf of French bread.
Next he bought a pound of coffee, a pint of half-and-half, and a pound of butter. He then moved to the liquor section and selected a bottle of Sapphire Bombay gin, a bottle of vermouth, and a bottle of eighteen-year-old single malt scotch. I noticed the scotch cost $26.00; in Charlotte, it would have been $50. At the cash register, he asked for a carton of Marlboros. All together, the bill was close to $75 dollars, and I reached for my wallet.
"What are you doing," he asked?
"Well, I'm going to pay for this," I said.
"No, you're not. I am."
Before I could protest, he had a credit card out and the clerk was running it through the machine.
"Rob, let me pay for some of this, at least," I protested.
"I've got it, Dad," he said, emphasizing the "Dad." "How often do I get to treat you to a nice meal?"
"Well, okay," I said reluctantly. I bought a pack of cigarettes for myself after his transaction was done, and, although he didn't object to that out loud, he had a look on his face that indicated he obviously expected me to smoke some of his.
We lugged the two large bags the four blocks to Rob's place. He opened the gate with his key, and we hauled the groceries up to his apartment. The first thing he did after we put the groceries in the kitchen was to put on some music. Then he made us drinks. The lights in the apartment were all on dimmer switches, and he turned them down low for atmosphere. This had all the makings of a seduction, and I loved it.
We sat in the living room having our drinks. We talked about the day and how much fun it had been. He took off his shoes and socks, removed his shirt, and undid the two top buttons of his jeans. I watched with interest.
"Why don't you get comfortable, too," he said to me.
I did as he had done but left my belt and zipper in place.
The hours Rob had spent in the gym and on various playing surfaces had given him a near-perfect physique. I admired him as we talked, and, before long, I began to feel the first stirrings of lust.
Rob got up and started fixing our dinner. He had a stove-top grill, and he asked me how I like my meat. When I grinned, he laughed out loud. Finally, at his insistence, I told him medium rare. He said that was how he liked his, too, and that he knew just how to cook the steaks to get them that way. He set the table and put the salad in bowls. He turned on the oven to heat the potatoes, and he lit the gas fire under the grill to get it hot.
We had another drink and continued talking. At 7:20 he asked permission to turn on the TV set to check the day's football scores. When he was satisfied that FSU had beaten Wake Forest by an obscenely high score, he switched it off and put the music back on. He returned to the kitchen to continue cooking, and I sat at the counter talking to him. He moved with as much grace at the stove as he had on the racquetball court. By eight o'clock, the meal was ready, and he presented it with considerable flare. The steaks were done to perfection, the salad was outstanding, and the potato was excellent. He made a pot of coffee and served it with dessert. The wine was only half gone by the time we had finished eating, so he poured us each another hearty glass full. It, like everything else, was first rate.
I helped him clean up after dinner, and he started the dishwasher. By nine o'clock, dinner was history, and we settled on the sofa next to one another.
"This has been one of the best days of my life," he said without a hint of irony in his voice.
"It's been a damn good one for me, too," I said.
After a long but comfortable pause he said, "You're falling in love with me, aren't you, Dan?"
"Is it that obvious," I asked.
"Yes."
"Does that bother you," I asked, afraid of the rejection that might ensue.
Instead of answering, he leaned over and kissed me gently and tenderly.
"What did that tell you," he asked.
"That you're not bothered by that fact," I asked in my most hopeful tone.
"Not only am I not bothered, I'm flattered. In fact, love can go both ways, and in this case it does."
"What about Kevin," I asked.
"What about him? I still love him. He's still my best friend, my brother, the person who is more myself than I am. But Kevin's in Miami, and you're here." He grinned his Rob grinned, and I laughed.
"I wish you didn't have to leave tomorrow," he said after a brief pause.
"I know. I wish I didn't have to leave either."
"When will you be moving here?"
"Well, I've already resigned my partnership with my old firm and have said all my good-byes to those people there. I have to put my house on the market, pack, close out my bank accounts, do that kind of thing. It shouldn't take more than a couple of weeks."
"Where will you be living here," he asked.
"I don't have a place yet."
"Well, what are you going to do? Move here and sleep in the park until you find something?"
"You've got a good point there. I guess I'll have to come back here and do some house hunting before I move completely."
"I've got an idea," he said, his face lighting up.
"Oh? What's your idea, Son?"
"The apartment next door is vacant. Last night, I saw the landlord when I was coming in, and I told him I had a friend who might be interested in it. He gave me the key. Would you like to go take a look at it?"
"Right now?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to take a peek."
"Put them shoes and socks back on, Dad. We're going house hunting." Rob jumped up and got my footwear for me. He was obviously very excited, and his enthusiasm was contagious. He had used a rich Southern accent when he made that statement, and I found that charming, even with the purposeful grammatical error.
The apartment was literally right next door. He unlocked the door and turned on the lights before he let me come in. When I finally got inside, I was stunned. Although unfurnished, the place was magnificent. It was a two-bedroom, two-bath unit, with a foyer, large living room, spacious kitchen, dining area, laundry facilities, several large closets. My "house" in Charlotte was really a condo, and this place was at least half-again as large as that. I immediately started making mental notes about where I'd place furniture.
Rob was grinning from ear to ear because it was obvious I loved the place. It had character, history, beauty, charm--everything my modern flat in Charlotte lacked. The pine floors were highly polished and obviously seasoned with age. The windows were the same huge ones that Rob had in his apartment, and the two bedrooms were quite large.
"How big is this place, do you know," I asked.
"It's twelve hundred square feet," he said. My place is five hundred."
"What's a place like this cost?"
"Seven hundred dollars a month."
I whistled softly.
"You think that's too much," he asked, concerned that my finances might prevent my taking possession of it.
"I'm paying almost twice that now for nine hundred square feet," I said, "and it has absolutely none of the charm of this apartment."
"Well..." he asked.
"Rob, I love it. The parking thing might be a problem, though. Of course, I could do what you do, couldn't I?"
"Hell, yeah. Or you could park at the hotel every day and walk the two or three blocks to work. Or, I could get one of the guys to drive you there every morning."
I laughed. "I think the walking idea is better," I said. "In fact, we could walk together, couldn't we?"
"Hey, I hadn't thought of that, but we sure could."
"I'll take it," I said. Decisiveness had never been one of my strong qualities, but that night I knew that was the place I had to live, Rob or no Rob next door. "Where do I sign?"
"Well Jeff and Matt are out of town for the weekend and won't be home until Monday night. I guess you'll just have to stay over to wait to see them on Tuesday."
"I guess I could do that," I thought out loud. "No reason not to, really."
"Great, man. I knew you'd love this place."
"This is better than anything I'd ever thought of," I said. "I've got a bunch of furniture, but I might just sell it all and get your decorator to fix me up."
"I still have his number, man. You could hook up with him on Monday."
"Cool," I said. "I'd like that. Is he expensive?"
"I don't know. I just know I like the stuff he picked out for me."
Rob and I went back to his apartment after I looked around a second and third time. That apartment was really something, and I envisioned myself in it starting tomorrow. I decided I'd get a sofa-sleeper for the living room, use one of the bedrooms as an office, and have a king-size bed in my bedroom. I had some nice furniture in North Carolina, but it wouldn't do in that place. I wanted my apartment to be as much of a showplace as Rob's was, and that would take hiring a decorator.
When we got back to Rob's place, he made us each a drink. He was drinking scotch, too, by then, and we toasted our new neighbor relationship.
We sat facing one another on the sofa. Rob stood up and took his jeans off. Without his saying anything, I did the same. When we sat back down, I folded my legs up Indian-style, but Rob moved them out straight in front of me. Then he sat very close to me, his legs over mine. He leaned forward and kissed me deeply. We continued to kiss, and my penis rose to full erection inside my briefs. Rob's did, as well.
"Shall we go upstairs," I asked.
"Why don't we just stay down here a while and play with one another," he responded.
Ted and I used to do that sort of thing, and I assumed Rob and Kevin did, too. We'd rub and caress and kiss and tweak and generally keep one another at full arousal for as long as we could. Then, when we finally made love, our orgasms would be truly earth-moving. I wanted that with Rob.
He inched closer to me, and our cocks were touching one another through the rapidly dampening cotton of our briefs. He would touch my chest and gently play with a nipple. I would do the same to him. He would lean forward and nibble my ear or lick my neck, and I would respond in kind. Once he touched my cock with his hand lightly through my briefs, and I shuddered and almost came. When I did that to him, he gently rocked forward toward it.
I leaned him back and put my full body on his. The warmth and closeness were incredible. We lay together in silence, feeling every fiber of our bodies in contact with each other. In a deft move, Rob removed his briefs and mine, and we were skin on skin from head to toe. Without apparent effort, he cradled my back with his legs, and the head of my penis, slick and drenched in pre-cum, was at the entrance to his anus. He pushed down on it, and my cock slid into him without resistance.
Neither of us moved. Neither of us did anything but enjoy the sensation of total oneness. Rob would periodically tighten the muscles of his ass, and that would send waves of pleasure through me. Now and then, I would lick one of his nipples, and his whole body would respond.
We stayed that way for an incredibly long time. Gradually, Rob increased the frequency and intensity of his muscle contractions, and, in time, he brought us both off just by doing that. My orgasm was as powerful as any I had ever had, and his was so strong it made him buck involuntarily, as I had seen him do in the shower. He came long and hard; then, within seconds, he had a second orgasm, then a third. They were separate and distinct events, and each seemed more powerful than the one before it. I had read about men who were capable of multiple orgasms, and now I had met one who could do it.
Rob used his briefs to clean up his cum from his chest, although it wasn't as much as one would expect from so powerful a series of releases. He wiped my penis clean, and then he licked and sucked the remains of my cum from it. I was exhausted from the intensity of that experience, but, surprisingly, not tired in the usual sense of the word. I was totally relaxed, but alert as well.
Rob got cigarettes and fresh drinks for us. We sat together, him leaning against my chest, me with my arms around him, and enjoyed the afterglow of incredible sex. Before long, the warmth, the drinks, and the relaxation got to me, and I fell asleep. The next thing I realized was that Rob was laying me in his bed. He had carried me upstairs like a baby and had gently lain me in bed. He got in next to me, turned out the light, and we both drifted off peacefully to sleep.
I awoke the next morning to the aroma of fresh coffee and bacon. Rob had gotten up first and had prepared breakfast. He was on his way upstairs to awaken me when I woke on my own.
"Hi," he said, when he saw I was awake. "Are you ready to get up?"
I stretched luxuriously in bed. Suddenly I was aware that we were both naked.
"Morning," I said. "Yeah, I'm awake. God, I slept well."
"You ready for breakfast? I cooked some bacon and eggs and toast. We can eat inside or out on the patio. Whichever you want."
"Let's eat in. I don't want to have to put any clothes on just yet. I want to be naked with you a while longer."
"We can go outside naked. I do it all the time. So do Matt and Jeff," he said.
"Really? The neighbors won't call the police or anything," I asked, a bit incredulous.
"Hell, no. Matt and Jeff are a gay couple who love to be nude, and, anyway, they're out of town at their place across the lake. The only other tenant is a gay man in his late fifties. Sometimes he joins us, but I think he's gone, too."
"Well, if it's okay, let's eat outside."
"Good. I was hoping you'd say that."
We went downstairs, and I used the bathroom while Rob put everything together on a tray. We went outside on the balcony, and the day was glorious. Back in Charlotte the leaves had already turned and were getting ready to fall, but in New Orleans it was still summer.
I had gotten a bit of a glimpse of the patio the day before, but now I saw it in its full splendor. The planting was very well done, and the bricked portion where a couple of tables and a few lounge chairs were was canopied by an ancient oak tree that shaded the area. There was a small water garden that had water lilies and irises growing in it, and I noticed a few goldfish break the surface from time to time in search of their breakfasts. A pump kept a tiny gurgle going to keep the water moving. The patio alone would have made me want to live there.
We ate breakfast and drank coffee and smoked cigarettes. Rob had found a newspaper somewhere, and we scanned it section by section. He concentrated on the sports pages, while I read about a few local events. I couldn't imagine a more idyllic Sunday morning.
"What are we going to do today," I asked.
"Why don't we clean up and go check you out at the hotel. I'll get the concierge to make some new flight arrangements for you. Then we can drive around some more and see the rest of the city."
"That sounds like a good plan to me," I said.
We cleaned up the breakfast things and showered together. Rob shaved in the shower, and, when I expressed my own dislike of shaving, he shaved me. Standing next to me, razor in hand, he began to get an erection. He reached down and rubbed Edge shaving gel on my penis and ball sack, and that made me hard as well. As he shaved me, he rubbed his cock against mine, and, within minutes, we both climaxed, spewing semen against one another. This is the way I want to start every day from now on, I thought.
We did our chores at the hotel, and I was able to get a flight out to Charlotte Tuesday morning at eleven. We then retrieved Rob's car and spent the next several hours touring New Orleans. Rob wanted to work out that afternoon, so I went back to the hotel with him and watched as he grunted and flexed with the weights and on the machines. I toyed with joining him, but I couldn't give up the pleasure I was taking in watching Hercules at his playful labors.
That night we went to a restaurant in the neighborhood and then walked the streets of the Quarter. We passed a gay bar, and I thought he might want to go in. He didn't, though, so we went home. The sex that night was as good as, or better than, it had been the night before, and we went to bed around eleven, spent, relaxed, and completely happy.
Rob was long gone to work by the time I woke at ten the next morning. I went downstairs to find coffee waiting to be turned on and a detailed note about what I should do. He had already talked to Jeff and Matt, and they would be ready to see me to sign a lease whenever it was convenient for me. He left the name and number of his decorator for me, and I called him to make an appointment for two that afternoon. It turned out he already knew the apartment and said he had been dying to get his hands on it. He sounded rather effeminate, the way decorators are supposed to be, I guessed.
I met Rob for lunch at the hotel at noon, and I told him I had already accomplished the tasks he had set for me. He laughed a lot, called me Dad, and generally delighted me with his boyishness. He was dressed in a magnificent navy suit, and the dress clothes only enhanced his natural beauty.
I met with the decorator and went over his ideas for the place. They sounded great, so I went with him to his shop to check out the furniture he wanted me to use. I paid him a five thousand dollar deposit, and he said the place would be ready for me to move into in two weeks. It was the curtains and custom appointments that would require that much time, he said. I assured him that would be fine.
That night Rob took me to a sports bar where we ate, shot a little pool (I was awful; he was great.), and watched some of the Monday night football game. We left around ten, made mad, passionate love until midnight, and slept peacefully.
Rob woke me to tell me goodbye when he got up. We kissed and hugged, but he was already dressed for work, so it went no further. I caught my plane back to Charlotte, reluctant to leave my son but eager to complete my business there so I could return to him and to my new home.