Second Chance

Second Chance Chapter 11 - A Day in Chicago

After our first love making, we made love twice more that night. When we got back into bed after dessert, Julio took me from behind, doggy style. He pounded into me for a bit as I was up on all fours, but then he pushed me down and lay down on top of me so that our entire bodies were pressed together. As he pushed inside me, he kissed my neck and nibbled on my ears and spoke to me quietly in Portuguese, which I felt like I could almost, but not quite, understand, given my fluency in Spanish. He came inside me with a passionate grunt and then just lay there for a bit, still buried deep inside. Then he rolled off and lay next to me.

"You haven't cum yet," he said.

"I'm okay," I told him.

"Well, I'm not," he replied. "I need to taste you."

He rolled me onto my back and took my cock in his mouth, and in only a few minutes, I was shooting a huge load down his throat. I was so stimulated by his fucking me and so turned on by him that I just couldn't hold back.

"Much better," he said with a smile after he swallowed. Then he climbed back up next to me, pulled the covers over us both, and pulled me to him to spoon me from behind.

"Do you need to clean up?" he asked sleepily, but he held me tight like he was not going to let me go. In a few moments, he was asleep, and I drifted off shortly after.

At some point during the night, I woke up feeling Julio's hard cock wedged into my ass crack. We had gone to sleep early, around 11. I needed to get up to pee, so I slipped out from his grip and went to the bathroom. When I came back to bed, I lay down beside him and took his cock in my hand. It was only half hard now, but I started to stroke it. His cock was such a good size, I loved how the foreskin slid up and down.

He stirred and rolled onto his back, so I slid the covers down so that his torso was exposed and his cock was sticking up. In the darkness, with just a little light from the street shining on him, I admired his beautiful smooth body for a minute. I loved the muscles in his arms and chest, sculpted by the gym but not too big. I spit in my hand and coated his cock, then I climbed over him, so that my hole was just above his cock, and I lowered myself down onto it. With two loads already in my ass and having been fucked hard, I was open and slick, so it was not too challenging to take him inside me. I started to move up and down on his cock, and then I used my ass muscles to squeeze it tightly.

He slowly woke up.

"Is it morning?" he whispered.

"No," I said.

"Am I dreaming?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"It's the best dream," he said and reached up to grab my waist in his hands. He started pounding up into me as I lifted myself on and off of him.

"You feel so good, Judah," he murmured.

"I love feeling you inside me," I whispered.

Since he had already cum twice that night, even if it had been a few hours ago, this third time lasted for a while. At one point, he lifted me up off of him and tossed me onto my back, with my legs in the air. He was thin, but since he was several inches taller than me, he could control my body in a way that was particularly sexy. He started driving himself into me and leaned forward to kiss me. After a while, he straightened his body, lifted my legs up, spread them wide, and jack hammered into me so that his body made a sharp slap against mine.

"I want you to breed me, Julio. I don't think I can take much more," I said.

"Don't start something you can't finish," he said with a wicked smile. "So you want my load? Two wasn't enough?"

"I want your load," I gasped. "I want your cum inside me."

"Here it COMES!!" he shouted and tensed up. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. Then he relaxed and pulled out.

"You can wake me like that anytime," he said, and we both laughed.

We lay back down, side by side on the bed, both of us breathing hard. Since it was the middle of the night, the apartment was noticeably quiet.

"So," he said quietly, "I guess that we are sexually compatible?"

"I would say so," I laughed.

"That's good," he said. "I would like to have lots of sex with you."

"Okay," I said. "I won't object."

We were both quiet for a bit, then he whispered, "Thank you, Judah."

"For what?" I asked.

"For being willing to try it with me."

I tried to think of a response, but I couldn't, and before I knew it, we had both fallen back asleep.

I woke up around 8 a.m. the next morning, which was quite late for me. Julio still seemed sound asleep, lying beside me but no longer holding me tight as he had much of the night.

I quietly slipped out of bed. I grabbed my phone, a pair of sweatpants, and a T-shirt and closed the door to the bedroom as quietly as I could. In the kitchen, I put a pot of coffee on to percolate.

While I waited for the coffee, I went downstairs to get the newspaper. Instead of reading it, though, I took my phone and texted Tom. When we had talked earlier in the week, I had told Tom about how Julio and I had sucked each other off last weekend. Tom, being Tom, had asked about his dick and his body, and I'd done my best to describe how his cock was long and thick and had this nice foreskin that was so soft on top of the hardness and how his body was thin and smooth but muscular too and how his skin was the color of warm hot chocolate. I knew he would want details now on our "going all the way." (That's what they called having sex when I was a kid. Is that expression still used at all?)

• So we did it last night. - 3 times - It was amazing

A moment later, my phone rang.

I answered and said, "Hello?"

"Okay, Judah. Dish!" Tom said. "How was it? Could you handle it? Did he make you see stars? Are you able to walk this morning?"

I had to laugh.

"Yes, he made me see stars. Yes, I can walk. And it was amazing!"

"So, what happened?" he asked. "I thought you were taking things slow."

"Well, we've been going on dates for three weeks. We didn't do anything the first week. We just sucked each other off last week. So now it was time to take it up a notch."

"Hmmpf," he huffed. "You really only started dating last week. So it's just been a week. Which I totally approve of! I just want to point out that I'm not the only whore in this friendship."

"I'm not a whore!" I objected. "I hadn't been fucked in four years! And I've only been with one guy!"

"I know, darling. I'm just pushing your buttons," he chuckled. "So how was it, after four years? That's like almost being a virgin again. Did it hurt?"

"No, actually. Not at all." I thought about it. "It's funny, but he fit perfectly in me. And he's not small," I said as an aside.

"So you've said."

"It didn't hurt at all. I guess it was like riding a bike, you never forget. But it was totally different than with Pablo. It's not just that his cock is a different size and shape. His technique was different. And I feel a little guilty that I hadn't thought about Pablo at all until just now."

"Oh, honey," Tom said in his kindest voice. "You don't need to feel bad about that. You know that Pablo wanted you to keep living your life. You have infinite capacity for love. And just because you might be falling in love with someone else doesn't mean that you love Pablo any less. I bet he's looking down on you right now and smiling."

I suddenly had a lump in my throat and felt tears welling up in my eyes.

"Tom," was all I could say.

Tom immediately switched back to his usual breezy tone. "Well, let me tell you about my life, not that you asked. I went out last night on a third date with someone, which is like practically being married for me."

"By `date' do you mean going to his place to hook up?" I asked.

"I do not!" he replied. "Well, at least this time. I mean an actual date, where we go out and do something ... before I go back to his place to hook up."

"So who is this?" I asked.

"His name is Jeffrey," he said, "and I met him at my gym. Well, I was checking Grindr in the locker room at the gym, and I saw that someone was 0 feet away, and I looked up and recognized him from his picture standing right next to me just as he looked up and recognized me. So we laughed and said hi and started talking, and we really hit it off."

"Nice," I said. "When was this?"

"The end of August," he told me. "Well, the first time was just sex. We left the gym and went back to his place and fucked. But then we lay around on his bed for a long time just chatting. We really clicked, so we exchanged numbers and..."

"You haven't told me any of this!" I cried.

"Well," he said, "you know my record's not very good, and I didn't want to jinx it. We texted a few times in September, and then right after I got back from your party, we met up for drinks. And it was really nice. It was a work night, so we ended up just each heading home instead of fucking, which you know for me is weird. And then we met up last night for dinner and a movie. We went back to his place and fooled around, but I headed home, because I have to go into the office today. But we're going to hang out again tonight."

"Wow! Congratulations, Tom. That's great! Tell me more about him."

"He works in finance, which is meh, but he seems like a nice guy anyway. He's in his late forties. He was married to a woman for a decade and has two kids, but they divorced and after that he realized that he liked men more than women. He decided to move into the City from Long Island. He's dated a few guys but nothing too serious."

He paused.

"I don't know. I like him. He seems to have a good relationship with both his ex-wife and his kids, which speaks well of him. But you know me and relationships, so, we'll see."

"Tom, if you'd just let yourself, you could absolutely manage a relationship. You're kind and thoughtful."

"Yes, but also a slut. But Jeffrey seems fine with that."

Just then, I heard the door to the bedroom open.

"Oh," I said, "Julio is up."

"Okay, I'll let you go," Tom said. "Tell him hello."

"Call me tomorrow and tell me how tonight goes."

Julio stumbled through the living room and dining room toward the kitchen, wearing just his boxer briefs and looking adorably sleepy.

"Morning," he whispered.

"Morning," I said. "You look like you need some coffee."

He came in and kissed the top of my head then sat on the stool next to me.

"Mmhmm. Coffee would be nice," he said.

I got up and poured him a cup and placed it, a spoon, and a container of sugar next to him. I watched him closely as he added a couple of spoonfuls of sugar then stirred.

"How did you sleep?" I asked, as he took his first sip.

"I slept well until you got out of bed. Then I was cold and lonely."

I had to laugh. "You have a melodramatic streak," I observed.

"So I've been told," he said, with a wry smile.

"What shall we do for breakfast?" I asked. "Should we go out? Or do you want me to make something?"

He looked me up and down. "If we go out, we'd have to get all cleaned up and dressed. And I'd rather just spend the morning here with you."

I smiled. "Fine," I said. "Let's see what I can make."

I pulled out eggs to scramble from the fridge and some sausage from the freezer. During the week, I usually ate simple breakfasts of cereal or yogurt, but on weekends, I liked to make a more substantial breakfast, so I always kept sausage and bacon on hand. I took out two frying pans, put them on the stove, and turned on the heat. While the eyes were heating up, I took out bread and popped a couple of slices into the toaster. I tested to see how warm the pans were, then added the sausage to one, which immediately began to sizzle. I broke the eggs into a bowl, added some milk, and whisked them vigorously for a minute. Then I added them to the other pan.

"I could watch you all day," Julio said, making me realize that he had been staring at me. "Everything is so organized. It's like watching a ballet."   

"It's just making breakfast," I said.

"But nothing you do is ordinary," he said.

I blushed and was suddenly very self conscious, but I also smiled. Julio had a way of making me feel special.

I turned the sausage and stirred the eggs, scraping the bottom of the pan, so that they didn't burn. The toast popped up, so I took out two plates and placed the toast on them. I took a knife and cut each slice diagonally. The sausage and eggs were done, so I scraped them onto our plates then set both on the counter.

"Looks delicious," Julio said.

We ate breakfast in silence, just appreciating one another's company and now and then gazing into one another's eyes. I could feel how much Julio was smitten with me at the moment. It occurred to me that it was maybe just his lust overwhelming him after so much sex, but I didn't really care. It was nice to have someone look at me with such adoration.

"So what's on tap for today?" I asked.

He smiled slyly at me. "We could stay home and make love some more."

"I'm not sure if my ass can take too much more," I said. I was feeling a little worn out, yet even so, the thought of more sex made my cock begin to swell a bit. "Maybe we could do something and then come back later and make love some more."

"That could work," he cooed, "as long as that last part is guaranteed." He leaned over and gave me a peck on the lips. "So what should we do?"

I thought for a moment. "Would you like to go to the Art Institute?" I asked.

"I don't know much about art," he admitted.

"I would love to teach you," I said, feeling some excitement at the prospect. "The Art Institute is my favorite place in Chicago. I'd love to share it with you."

"Then the Art Institute it is!" he said.

We showered and got dressed. He had brought a change of clothes in his backpack, so he put those on, while I picked out a casual outfit. The museum did not open until 11, so we had a little time to kill. We walked to the L and waited a bit for a train that took us down into the Loop. It was just a little before 10:30, so I suggested that we grab a cup of coffee at a shop just outside the exit from the L station.

We got our coffees and walked over to Millennium Park, the large urban green space that lay between downtown Chicago and Lake Michigan. Millennium Park was nothing like Central Park in New York, with its winding paths designed by Frederick March Olmsted. This park was broad and flat, a location for performances and public gatherings. There was a newer section, closer to the lake, that was a man-made hill with winding paths and a lovely playground at the summit, but most of the park was more reminiscent of the manicured open spaces in Paris or London. The whole park was redone and expanded around the millennium -- hence the name. 

It was kind of a capstone to the revitalization of downtown Chicago, which had been mostly business and industrial wasteland in the past but had gradually become a highly desirable -- and expensive -- place to live.

It was a cool October morning, but there were still people running and riding bikes through the park and a few folks walking like us.

"Oh, I've seen pictures of that!" Julio said suddenly. We were approaching the sculpture that was officially called "Cloudgate" but which everyone knew as "The Bean." It was a large, shiny metal, bean-shaped sculpture that had become a popular tourist attraction in Chicago.

We walked up to the Bean and ran our hands across the shiny metal surface, as almost everyone does.

"This is so cool," Julio said.

"It is," I said. "I have no idea what it's for or what it's supposed to mean, but it is cool."

We walked all the way around it. There was a handful of other people observing it as well. It reflected the grey skies but somehow also remained shiny and sliver.

I looked at the time on my phone.

"The museum is open," I said. "Shall we go?"

Julio nodded, and we headed back the direction we'd come. We tossed out our empty coffee cups, then as we walked on, Julio reached over and took my hand. He lifted it to his lips and kissed it.

"Your hand is warm," he said. He held onto my hand as we continued to walk toward the museum. It had been a very long time since I'd walked around holding someone's hand. That was not something that Pablo and I usually did. It felt slightly awkward and made me a little self-conscious at first, but then I embraced it. What did I care? I was a 65-year-old man who had been completely out as a gay man for decades. Let people think what they wanted.

We entered the museum and walked right to the guard at the entrance, skipping the long line at the ticket window, since I had a membership. I wanted to take Julio to some of the museum's most famous collections, so I led him straight upstairs to the European section to see the Impressionists. So many of these paintings had become iconic -- Degas' ballet scenes, Monet's water lilies, Toulouse-Lautrec's Moulin Rouge. As we walked through, Julio said several times, "I recognize that."

We stood close together as we walked through the galleries, not holding hands, but brushing against one another from time to time and clearly within each other's space. Periodically I found Julio looking at me rather than the paintings. I would smile at him, and he would smile back.

Julio seemed to like the art. He was particularly impressed by a couple of paintings by Gustave Caillebotte. His detailed street scene with people holding umbrellas, despite there being no obvious rain in the painting, is quite famous, but Julio was even more taken by the "Floor Scrapers," a large painting of a group of shirtless men working hard scraping the veneer off of a hardwood floor in a Paris apartment.

"This is a very sexy painting. The detail of their muscles is impressive," he said.

Julio was of course taken aback, as everyone is, by George Seurat's monumental A Sunday on La Grande Jatte. The massive size of the painting contrasted with the intricacy of the dots of paint in Seurat's pointillist style is truly breathtaking.

"You know, there's a whole musical written about this painting," I said.

"Really?" Julio asked.

"Sunday in the Park with George. It's by Sondheim," I said. "I saw a revival of it on Broadway with Tom a decade or so ago."

"I'm a bad gay. I don't really even know who Sondheim is," Julio said with a chuckle. "I mean, I know he's an author or something."

"A composer and lyricists, actually. Hang around me long enough and you'll be corrupted," I laughed.

He looked at me with a seductive expression and raised his eyebrows. "I am happy to have you corrupt me," he whispered, and we both laughed. A few of the people nearby looked at us oddly. Laughing is not something one ordinarily does in a museum like the Art Institute.

After taking in the Impressionists, we headed to the American Wing to see a few of the works there. I wanted him in particular to see American Gothic, probably the most famous work at the Art Institute. In contrast to the European section, the American Wing mixes paintings and furniture and other objects so that it feels less like a traditional gallery.

When we got to American Gothic, the famous painting of a stodgy-looking man and woman standing in front of an Iowa farm house, Julio was unimpressed. The painting is small and unassuming, in contrast to the grandeur of Sunday in the Park.

"Why do you say this is so famous?" he asked.

"Surely you've seen this before? It's all over everything in the US."

"I don't think so," he said. "Not in Brazil anyway."

I realized that my ideas about what is famous and important are very much products of my own culture.

"Let's get lunch and then head home," I said. It was already past 1 p.m., so we'd been at the museum for two hours. I firmly believe that it is best to take in a museum in small doses, so as not to be overwhelmed.

I took Julio up to the members only restaurant on the top floor, because it has lovely views of the Chicago Skyline and the park and lake. We had a light lunch, and then we headed out.

"I would like to go back to your place now and make love to you again," Julio said matter-of-factly as we walked outside.

I stopped and looked at him with a smile. "I think I would like that," I said.

"Are you recovered?" he asked.

"Enough to take more of you, yes," I responded.

I decided to order a car so that we could get home sooner. Two minutes later, we were climbing into an Uber and heading up toward Uptown. The lake looked dark and imposing as we whizzed by up Lake Shore Drive. Julio reached over and grabbed my hand in the car and smiled tenderly at me. The car let us off in front of my apartment, and we rushed up the stairs. As soon as we were inside the door to my apartment, we were all over one another, struggling to get out of our clothes as quickly as possible in between kisses and caresses. We were soon both naked. We rushed to the bedroom, where Julio tossed me back onto the bed and landed on top of me, kissing me forcibly while grinding his hard cock against my groin. I kissed him back and grabbed his ass to pull him harder into me. Our cocks ground together as we both moaned.

"I need to be inside you again," he said. "I need to make love to you."

I reached over and grabbed the lube out of the bedside table. I slicked up his cock and lifted my legs up to expose my ass. Since he had already fucked me three times in the last twenty-four hours, he slid easily inside, bottoming out on his first push. I grabbed his ass again to pull him as deeply inside me as I could.

"Fuck me hard, Julio," I said. He didn't say anything, but he held my legs up away from him and jackhammered into my ass so that our bodies meeting made a slapping sound. He fucked me hard like that for perhaps five minutes, as I felt his cock drilling deep into my guts. Then he paused and loosened his grip on my legs and leaned forward to kiss me. For a while, he fucked me slowly and gently while his tongue explored my mouth. Then he pulled back up and started to pound into me. He used one of his hands to start to jack me off, but that was too awkward, so I pushed his hand away and took over. With the hard fucking stimulating my prostate, it wasn't long before I felt an orgasm building.

"Julio!" I cried. "I'm gonna cum!"

He pounded into me harder and faster, and just as I felt the cum exploding out of my cock, I felt him tense up and sensed his cock pulse inside my ass as he let out an animalistic howl.

"Fuck!!" he cried. Then he pulled out of me and collapsed onto the bed next to me, breathing heavily.

"I have never had sex like this," he panted.

We both lay there catching our breath. I scooted closer so that my body was pressed up against his. I could still feel the impact of his cock pounding me as my ass slowly relaxed. Within moments, we were both asleep.

Let me know what you think about my story. Email nifty1dan@gmail.com

Please donate to Nifty at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html to keep this website free and available.