Still Straight, More or Less

Still Straight, More or Less By Andrew R. Gabriel

Categories: Gay Male / Adult Friends / Interracial

This story is grounded in reality, but it is exaggerated and with names and details changed to either protect the innocent and not-so innocent, or to make it flow better as a story. Not all of this happened, but a lot of it did. More or less...

It's a story of sexual tension and eventually explicit sex between two consenting adult men. It starts slow, as some of the best things in life do. But it will heat up eventually, trust me. In between there is some non-consensual groping, as well as prostitution, drug use and a lot of alcohol. If it is illegal for you read such story, or if it is not your cup of tea, stop now please. This is my work, you are welcome to pass it on but do not copy and repost it as your own work.

Comments are more than welcome. This my first contribution to Nifty, and I would love to learn what you think of my work. My email is andrew.r.gabriel@gmail.com

In 2010, about 6 months after I got hired at my employer, a professional services company on the US East Coast, I was asked to help with recruiting a new hire. The company was looking to expand our team with someone fresh out of undergrad. I figured they wanted my help since I am closer in age to the target audience than the other team members, even though I just turned 30. It probably also helped that I have generally a very friendly disposition, unlike some of the grumpy bears in the team... We'd want to make a good impression on potential new hires.

Since this was in the wake of the financial crisis and the job market was far from good, we had a lot of applicants to sift through. Many of them were qualified, and we brought in a half dozen of what looked on paper to be the strongest ones. Most of the interviewees performed acceptable during the interview, but one of them, a 22 year old guy called Samson, stood out. And for more than one reason. He had done his homework on the company and the job, and he aced the answers. His qualifications checked all the boxes. His enthusiasm was also off the charts, he really wanted this job. And he was hot! To be clear, that was not at all a job requirement, but in my book it was certainly a nice plus. Tall and toned, great hair and a killer smile. I'd later learn he was of filipino descent. He was charming, maybe even a little flirty, and would do great with customers. There were four of us who interviewed each candidate, and we unanimously agreed that it was not a very difficult choice, we offered Samson the job. He was going to be on the same team as I, with the same boss.

Maybe a little about me: I'm your average gay white guy. Out and proud at work, single at the time. Guy-next-door look and the beginning of a dad-bod. My biggest asset (pun intended) is probably my dick, which is just under 9", uncut.

Even though I was not at the company that long myself, 6 months, I had some prior experience and I knew enough how things worked that my boss asked me to mentor Samson and help him settle in at work. He was very professional and a quick learner. We had lunch together a couple times each week to go over issues he encountered at work. This also allowed us to bond together. We found we have a fair amount of common interests: watch many of the same TV shows, play the same computer games, like the same sports and sport teams etc. I also learned he had a girlfriend he met in college, and they just moved in together. Ugh. I liked Samson, and I was physically attracted to him I suppose. I also realized that he is as straight as they come. I've had crushes on straight friends before, and it invariably ends with me getting my heart broken. And he was a colleague I liked and respected, and I didn't want to jeopardize that. So I did my best to keep things strictly friendly and professional.

At the office, Samson was well-liked. His natural charm and amazing looks helped of course. He was particularly popular with the female colleagues, to the point that it became almost a running joke. When a difficult meeting about budgets was coming up with the head of finance, a crabby older female executive, my boss told me to send Samson along. I asked him: "Are you sure about that? Samson is the most junior on the team and he has not been with us that long." "Trust me, she has a soft spot for Samson, she won't say no to the budget request if he's there." To my surprise, he was right. The budget was approved without issue. Samson was starting to realize he had near-magical powers in the office. One time when he had stepped away from his cubicle a colleague remarked to Samson as he returned that a lady came by to see him. Samson replied "Oh, that happens all the time" and he started to laugh at his own joke.

-- Our first business trip --

After a couple months there was a work conference and our team could send two people to attend. Samson and I were picked. We both had been working quite hard, and our boss wanted to show some appreciation. I'll take it! It was a rather posh affair in a fancy resort, all on the company's dime. We could also tag on a weekend if we wanted to. Samson and I decided to take advantage of that, and flew out on a Friday afternoon. Although the conference was still work-related, this would be the first time Samson and I were going to hang out outside the office. Our office culture is rather formal, so we always dressed in business clothes. When we met at the airport to catch our flight was the first time I saw Samson in a casual outfit: jeans, T-shirt and a hoodie. I suppose he looked good in almost anything, but his outfit accentuated his age: he really looked like a college kid.

When we got to the resort it was getting late, and we hadn't had dinner yet. The main restaurant was already closed, but the bar kitchen was still open. We dropped off our bags in our respective rooms, and met in the bar for a burger and a beer. And what started as one beer became many beers. I was pacing myself and drinking somewhat slowly, trying to keep things professional since we were at a work-related event. But Samson was letting loose, and going quite hard on the beer. I could handle alcohol pretty well, the result of years of training. Samson was no light-weight either, but he was clearly getting inebriated. He started to call me "dude" and "bro", which he had never done before. I thought it was funny to see how he his tone was changing. In that state he also got a little emotional, expressing how much he appreciated how I was helping him at work. "Thanks bro for all you do for me. I don't think I would have made it through without you, man. This shit they make us do is hard, and you are really always there for me. I mean it dude, you keep me so much out of trouble. I love you, man." It was nice to hear, as it was obviously heartfelt. Even as I realized that "I love you"-statement was probably intended as purely platonic. After he said it, he also got up from his bar stool and hugged me. We had never really touched other than a handshake. His muscular arms, the firmness of his pecs - it was exciting. But what really pushed my buttons was his smell. His musk was masculine, sexual almost. I hugged him back, and uttered something about how great it was to work with him. After that I was a little afraid of where this would go, mostly afraid of losing control of my own words and actions, so I declared I was ready for bed after a long work week. He concurred, and we both went to our rooms after agreeing on a time to meet for breakfast.

The next morning breakfast was a very nice buffet, with lots of choices. I had a slight hangover, but nothing coffee couldn't cure. Samson seemed as fit as ever, with no sign of a hangover. Oh, and he also declared he went for a run before breakfast. Ah, to be young! Since we had the entire weekend to ourselves, we discussed options how to spend it. We landed on some tennis, some golf, attending a show and spending time relaxing by the pool, spread out over both Saturday and Sunday. He beat me easily in tennis, I won squarely at golf. The show was fun. But what really made the weekend for me was the time by the pool, which we ended up going to on multiple occasions. Samson had apparently decided on some very sexy, white and almost see-through speedo-style swimwear for himself. He looked incredible: muscular chest with pronounced pecs, small brown nipples and six-pack abs, hairless except for a trimmed treasure trail, strong hairless arms and legs, a bubble butt you could bounce anything off and his snug swimwear clearly indicated an above-average dick. The white of the swimwear accentuated beautifully the brownness of his skin. It was difficult not to stare, for me and I could tell also for other resort guests. More than a few men and women turned their heads for him. In between swimming we lay on lounge chairs next to each other, sipping cocktails, doing a bit of reading and chatting. There were a fair amount of people but it was not crowded, so we had some privacy for our conversation. Apparently Samson was not only being admired, he was also admiring others. Several times he made comments about women (who were out of earshot). "Look at the tits on the brunette there." "Oh dude, look at that Asian girl." "Man, that blonde is smoking hot." I first did not really react, but after a couple of times I reminded him with a smile that he's making these comments to a gay guy. I had been out to him since he started at the company. When I said it he turned beet-red. "Oh dude, sorry. I totally spaced out. I knew you are gay but I... I really didn't mean anything with those comments." I assured him it was fine, funny actually. After a minute or so, he asked: "Hey, are you checking out guys the way I am checking out girls?" "Yes, of course. Gay guys and straight guys are not really any different that way." "Cool. I never really thought about that. So indulge me then. Who here do you think is hot?" I wanted to say "You" but was too scared to do that. So instead I nodded to a couple of guys that were objectively hot, although not quite in his league. "Huh. So what do you look for in a guy then?" "Not all gay men are the same. Just like some straight guys are more attracted to breasts and others more to asses, different gay men focus on different parts of the anatomy." "Yeah, that makes sense. So what is important for you then?" "Ah. I usually say I like smart guys, but if I am really honest I like chests and butts. What makes a girl hot in your eyes?" "I like my women sporty and with nice titties. Firm, perky, not too big."

From there the conversation drifted into different chit-chat topics until it was time for dinner. Since Friday evening we had a simple bar burger dinner, for Saturday we decided on a nice steak dinner in the resort restaurant. Similar though, a lot of alcohol. Not only were we sipping cocktails most afternoon, we had a couple of bottles of nice wine with dinner and afterwards made it to the cigar and whiskey bar. I usually don't smoke, but I'll make an exception for cigars if they accompany a nice peaty scotch. I didn't know Samson liked scotch or cigars, but he gave the impression he had them before. I asked him about it. "I guess I'm a little young to be really into whiskey. I usually drink sweeter liquor, perhaps a whiskey-coke. Or vodka. I prefer clubs, and this is my first time in a whiskey bar. But it's neat though. A first time for everything, right?" "Yep, indeed. And there is no club here in the resort, so that makes it an easy choice. How about cigars? I did not realize you smoked." "I'll smoke a joint with my bros, but yeah cigars not usually." He paused after that and looked a little worried, as if he realized he probably should not talk to a colleague about using marijuana as the company had a strict no-drug policy. I decided to make him feel at ease. "Yeah, it's been a couple of years since I used pot. And I'll only have a cigar in a place like this, perhaps once or twice a year." He relaxed. I suppose he was seeing how far he could push the envelope when he said: "When I go to the club I usually take either mollie or LSD. Makes for a really fun night." "Cool. Is that addictive?" "Nah, I only take it at the club, never elsewhere. I've done crystal meth but I'm a little scared of it. I took it once last year in college with some friends. We all got so horny, we had an orgy the whole night until sunrise. Only that one time though." That was a lot to take in. The fact that he occasionally used hard drugs needed some processing, as I never had and didn't plan on doing so. But more importantly, the idea of Samson fucking his brains out with a group of friends while high on drugs got me instantly hard. He was also notably non-specific about the gender of his friends, which had my fantasy going wild as well. Samson was staring at me to gage my reaction, so I just laughed, slapped him friendly on the back and changed the subject. Sunday went very similar to Saturday, except that Sunday evening the conference started, which included us socializing with the other attendees. The conference itself was interesting, but Samson and I did not have much one-on-one time with each other anymore.

-- A promotion --

Back at the office things went back to their normal, busy routine. Business was actually quite good. During the financial crisis, before I joined, the company went through a difficult patch but now we were expanding. And for for a solid performer like me, that meant a promotion. I was getting my own team to run. "Minions to do my bidding", as one of my friends jokingly called it. That was not at all how it worked in practice, but anyway I suppose the image is flattering (for me, less so for the minions). Turned out Samson, being more junior than anyone else in the group, was going to be on my team, while the rest of them would be new hires. I was a little worried how he would react. Not only did we go from being peers to a very different professional relationship, some of the things we talked about at the conference are not really things one should discuss with one's supervisor at work, to say the least. That goes double so in the conservative office culture we had.

Samson was indeed a little startled when he learned the news. I tried to put him at ease in our first meeting where we went over his new tasks and assignments. His demeanor was changing before my eyes. After the conference he had returned to a friendly but professional attitude, and dropped the "bro" and "dude". But now that I had become his supervisor, he was becoming a little overly formal and submissive, particularly in the first few weeks when we hadn't hired anyone yet and it was just him and I. He started to call me "sir", which I asked him not to do but he kept sprinkling it in from time to time. His confidence seemed to have gone, he almost seemed scared of me. As time passed and as we started to expand the team, he relaxed gradually and the confident, charming Samson from before returned. I was glad to see it.

Having an expanded team meant that we needed to grow our business. We had mouths to feed. One of the companies we had started to do business with recently, Feldermeier, was located in Germany. We suspected that we could do much more for them, but it was difficult to tease all that out over the phone. I needed to go to Germany and discuss our capabilities in person with the customer. Since the customer was going be there with an entire team including their founder, I did not want to go alone. I asked Samson in my office. "Samson, do you have a passport?" "Yes, I do. Why do you ask?" "We need an in person meeting with Feldermeier. I know you have been supporting the project with them. There is a lot more we can do for them, but it will require a good sales pitch to make them comfortable with our capabilities, and I need a wingman who is familiar with the details. Are you available to go to Germany with me?" "Certainly, that sounds like great opportunity! Thank you for including me, sir."

Our flight to Munich was uneventful. We traveled over the weekend, so we could get adjusted for the jet lag. We had our meeting scheduled for Monday. On Sunday morning, I got a call from Joerg Feldermeier, the founder and general manager of Feldermeier. He told me how much he appreciated that we came all the way from the US for this meeting, and as a token of his appreciation he would like to invite us to attend a wine festival in his home village. It would be fun he said, if we were up for it he would send a car service to pick us up. Customer is king, so of course we accepted. And it sounded actually like it could be fun and good way to break the ice with the customer in an informal setting. This was going great!

It was not even noon yet when we arrived at the wine festival. I had never met Feldermeier in person, but I recognized him from his picture. He was a handsome, tall and imposing man in his early forties with an impressive mustache. I did not realize it until we met right then, but my gaydar went off strongly with him. If I was right about that, that could perhaps be a plus in the relationship as well. He welcomed us warmly, and almost immediately he handed both Samson and I a glass of local wine. I got the impression he was not on his first glass of the morning. After some pleasantries and a second and third glass of wine we ordered some food. I noticed how Feldermeier gradually started to pay less attention to me, and more attention to Samson. Yep, he was gay alright and Samson's handsome looks and smile were having their magical effect on Feldermeier. Samson seemed completely oblivious to the whole dynamic, but loved the attention and he was entertaining Feldermeier with his observations about Germany and how much he liked the country and its culture. Feldermeier hung on his lips, it was amusing to watch. This was not how I had expected this meeting to go, but I did not see any harm. Business topics were for tomorrow, today was supposed to be small talk. Feldermeier insisted early on that we call him Joerg. And for some reason Joerg decided to call Samson not just Samson, but Samson dear. That for me put away any lingering questions regarding Joerg's sexual orientation. We all had our fun in this exchange: Joerg admiring Samson, Samson soaking in the attention and I was thoroughly entertained watching the interplay between Joerg and Samson. As such we spent several hours enjoying German wine and snacking on sausages and bread.

I was not sure how this evening was going to wind down but then Joerg threw a curveball, something I did not expect. After a couple of hours, it was mid-afternoon now, Joerg stated how much he enjoyed the company and he asked if we wanted to join him at his home and perhaps have dinner together there. Of course we did. It was a customer inviting us after all. Samson seemed to still have no clue about any gay undertones with Joerg, and during the conversation Samson had made several references to his girlfriend. It was a short ride to Joerg's house, a secluded, beautiful, old but renovated villa with a garden next to a small river. The guy clearly had done well for himself. He seemed to live alone. He guided us to an outside patio, excused himself and said it would be a little while before he's back. Samson and I were now alone. I was considering leaving Samson in the dark about Joerg being gay, but in the end decided to take this opportunity to make sure he understood. After all, Joerg was an important customer and I needed today and tomorrow to go well. When I told Samson that I suspected Joerg to be gay, he was a little surprised but did not show much reaction.

Joerg came back only after thirty minutes or so, and he explained that he stepped away to call one of his friends who owns a butchery, and he asked him if he could deliver meat and veggies for a barbecue. I've you've ever been to a Southern German village on a Sunday, you'll know that it is not easy to pull off a short notice delivery like that, since all the stores are closed on Sunday. I guessed that is why the call took so long.

However, Joerg also clarified that it was going to be a few hours before his friend would be here with the food. We had some time to kill. And then he cheekily asked if Samson, since he had been raving about Germany for much of the afternoon, would be interested in a truly German experience? Samson's eyes opened wide. "What do you mean, Joerg?" "I am referring, Samson dear, to a genuine German sauna. I had one built in my basement, next to a small pool. Would you be interested?" My heart skipped a beat, and I had to work hard to suppress a smile. This horny, sneaky devil really had thought this one through! I was however also a little worried that Joerg would be hoping for more than just a sauna, which could make both today and our business meeting tomorrow very awkward. Samson responded enthusiastically. An afternoon filled with libation helped to loosen any inhibitions of course. Joerg then invited us inside, to his basement. It was a beautifully finished basement, with a fairly large pool in stone (Joerg was being modest when he referred to it as small) and a nice sauna that was already running. He must have turned it on before he called his friend. I was more and more in awe with his determination and planning. Samson started to comment: "This could be fun. I've been in a sauna in the gym a couple of times, but this seems much nicer." "Trust me it is much nicer, Samson dear. Also, in gyms they don't turn the heat up properly, so you don't experience the health benefits." "That makes sense. Ok, let do this. Joerg, do you have shorts or swim pants we can borrow?" The smile that appeared on Joerg's face when Samson asked that question was priceless. Equally precious was Samson's reaction when Joerg responded: "Samson dear, Germans always take sauna in the nude. No shorts or swim pants." Samson's mouth dropped open, and he did not know what to say. "Come on, Samson dear. It is just us guys here. No need to be shy." And with that, Joerg started to undress. Samson stood there frozen. Samson had demonstrated earlier (at the conference) that he is not shy about his body at all, but the realization that he was about to be completely naked and somewhat drunk with two older gay guys in a small room seemed to be giving him pause. I needed to help him, the poor guy. I asked: "Joerg, before we go in can I use the restroom, please?" "Of course, It's next to the front entrance on the ground floor." "Thank you, Joerg. Samson, do you need to go as well?" "Yes, I'd better. Good idea." We left Joerg, went upstairs and I now had a chance to talk to Samson alone for a couple of minutes. "Are you ok?" "Yeah, probably just a little bit of a culture shock." "If you don't want to do this, we can back out. It would be awkward, but we could." Samson was quiet for a moment, and then said: "No we should do this. We've come too far now. I'm glad you're here, I'm not sure what I would have done if it was just me." I thought to myself that I was glad to be here as well, but for a very different reason. I had seen Samson in swimwear at the conference several months ago, but now I was about to see him in all his glory. We went back down, where we found Joerg completely naked outside the sauna waiting for us. Joerg was a handsome man fully dressed, and he was good-looking nude as well. Not muscular or toned, but fairly slim and lanky with nicely trimmed chest hair and pubes. And a nice flaccid uncut dick.

Samson and I both stripped, with Samson first covering himself with his hands, but once we sat down in the sauna he started to relax. There were three benches placed in a U-format, and each of us sat on one bench. Joerg in the middle and I facing Samson. I had a superb view of Samson's cut cock. Although flaccid, he looked above average. And he had completely shaved his pubes and balls, which made his cock look bigger.

After a couple minutes of adjusting to the heat in silence, Joerg started to talk about Germany's Freikorperkultur, or free body culture, and how public nudity is very common and not necessarily sexual. Although it was new to Samson I was familiar with the movement. As Joerg continued to talk about the history of the free body culture movement I thought to myself that us being here in the sauna is not just about free body culture but has also a sexual component to it. I was about to be proven right on that.

Joerg threw some water with eucalyptus oil on the heater, and the increased humidity made the sauna a lot more intense. We all became quiet to re-adjust. We were now probably about twenty minutes in the sauna, and the heat together with the alcohol consumption throughout the day made me a little lightheaded, and I suggested we go for a swim to cool off. They agreed, and the pool was incredibly refreshing. It also gave Joerg and I the opportunity to admire Samson's ass and the rest of his body. After a bit of soaking, Joerg asked if we we were ready for round two and we went back in the sauna. This was when Joerg made his next move: "Samson dear, sauna is particularly good for your blood flow. But you can augment the effect with a little massaging to improve the blood flow in you muscles. Here, let me demonstrate." And without hesitation, he started to massage Samson's thighs with both hands. Samson muttered a faint protest, but essentially let Joerg have his way. Joerg's hands gradually got closer to Samson's still flaccid cock, and within moments he was stroking Samson and fondling his balls. Joerg was clearly enjoying this, and he was fully hard, showing about 7" or so of hot cock. Samson was starting to panic. Although he did not push Joerg away, his protest became more clear: "Please, stop. Please, stop. I am straight, I have a girlfriend. Please...". Although it was in a twisted way very hot to watch, and I was getting a hard-on like Joerg, this was going too far. I had to step in. "Joerg, I don't think Samson is really into what you are doing. Perhaps best to leave him be." Joerg backed off. "Ok then. Sorry, I just wanted to show you a good time." Samson just nodded, and sighed in apparent relief. "But now I'm excited. And I can see I'm not the only one," Joerg said. He was turning his attention to me. I was still sporting an erection. "Can I demonstrate my massage skills on you?" "Sure, that sounds like fun." "Samson dear, you may want to step out if two men make you uncomfortable." "Ok..." But Samson did not move as Joerg turned to me, and within moments Joerg was giving me a terrific blowjob. Samson was now smiling at me and gave me a wink. Joerg did not notice, as he was completely concentrated on my dick and balls. I guess Samson was cool with watching, less with participating. After a little while, the blowjob evolved into Joerg and I sixty-nining in the sauna. When we both came we were covered in cum. Joerg licked some of mine up, and joked. "Hmm, usually I have cum as dessert but it makes a great appetizer before dinner as well." Samson was still sitting next to us, and he was gently stroking his impressive, hard 8" cock. He seemed to have liked our little show.

We washed up, and went upstairs. Joerg's friend arrived with the food and had started barbecuing. The four us had a nice dinner. The sexual tension of the evening had ebbed, and the jet lag was perhaps starting to hit Samson and I a little. As we took a taxi back to the hotel, Samson and I didn't talk much. I guess we both had a lot to process.

The next day, the customer meeting went swimmingly and actually ended early when Joerg declared after perhaps two hours of presentation and discussion that he wanted to award us with the contract we were hoping for. Mission accomplished! As we got back to the hotel much earlier than originally scheduled, I asked Samson: "Should we perhaps talk about yesterday?" Samson sighs: "We probably should, yeah. I freaked out a little when Joerg started to touch me, but watching you and him was actually really fucking hot. What does that say about me? Does that make me gay?" "No Samson, it does not. Look, anyone can get excited when people are having sex right next to you." "Yeah, but you were two dudes! And... when we got back to the hotel last night I jerked off thinking about it. Twice." "Hmm, perhaps Joerg would like to know about that" I joked and gently poked my elbow into his ribs. "It's not funny." "It is a little funny. Look, nobody is 100% gay or straight." "I need some time to digest this."

After a little pause we both stated that we felt like going to bed early tonight. I went to my room and did some work, and had dinner in the room watching some TV. After dinner I wanted to go for a walk before going to bed. While exiting the hotel I saw that Samson was sitting in the lobby, chatting with a pretty young girl, petite with shoulder-long black hair. I estimated her around his age, early twenties. She was all over him, touching his arms and legs and giggling. Samson didn't see me at first, but then he looked straight at me. They got up and went arm-in-arm to the elevator, I suppose to his or her room. He looked back at me twice. Apparently his way of coping with his recent self-image issue is to hook up with a local girl.

The next morning we went back to the airport to take a flight home. Samson seemed to be in a much better mood.

-- Two more promotions, and then a departure --

That Feldermeier became a much bigger customer after our trip was obviously very well received by the company leadership, and Samson and I shared in the kudos. It turned out to be the first of a several nice wins we had together. We worked well as a team. Samson was starting to blossom and he had started to mentor a few of the new hires himself.

After a year or so, I was invited to a meeting with one of the senior leaders of the company. He started off by saying how happy he was with my performance, and how he would like to offer me a promotion. It was going to be a much bigger role, but also I would be working in a different department, and I would no longer work with my current team. I asked who my successor was going to be. "Well, we have some ideas but do you have a recommendation?" "How about Samson?" "He's one of the people I was thinking of, but isn't he too young... Uh I mean a little too new on the team for this?" "I don't think so. Samson is the most qualified and he has proven himself invaluable this past year." "I'm willing to give it a chance, but only if you commit to continue as Samson's mentor. This would be a big step up for him, and I need whoever is in that job to be successful."

This couldn't get much better. Both Samson and I were getting promotions, and I still got to work with Samson albeit less intensely. Samson did great in his new role, and our mentoring sessions evolved gradually into more career coaching, and even sometimes life coaching. One recurring topic for example that Samson had started to bring up were tattoos. He really wanted some, and wanted my inputs on which ones to get. I'm not really into tattoos and don't have any myself, so I carefully stressed that it was important he has them on discrete parts of his body, given how conservative our office and industry can be. But once I saw how enthusiastic he was about them and how important the symbolism and meaning can be, I relented. Also the agency they stand for seemed to really be important for Samson. When he showed off the several beautiful tattoos he got, they really did look good on him.

Unfortunately after another year or so there was a change in Samson's department, resulting in him getting a new boss with a rather different management philosophy. He started to micro-manage the team and seemed to have it out for Samson specifically. Samson was getting frustrated, and discussed with me that he was considering leaving the company. I tried to find him another role in another team, but his new boss had started to sabotage that. It was sad to see, but leaving was probably Samson's best option. With his resume and stellar career trajectory, he found a new job somewhere else in no time. On his last day, he gave me a long intense hug.

-- Uh oh. --

Samson and I called a few times to catch up the months after he left. But to be honest, we gradually lost touch. I thought about him from time to time, but we didn't connect anymore. Then one evening, after not having talked for over a year, Samson texted me. "Hey, can we talk?" I called him almost immediately. He did not pick up, but sent another text. "I mean in person, not over the phone. Can you make it today?" We agreed on a time and place, and we picked local dive pub. I was a little shocked when I saw him. He had lost a lot of weight. "How are you, Samson?" "Not that great, to be honest. That's why I wanted to talk. I lost the job I had, and my girlfriend broke up with me. She kicked me out. I really need a place to crash. Could I please stay with you for a little while?" Of course he could. I wasn't going to press him now on how his life went so off the rails, right now he most of all needed a friend. It turned out everything he owned was in his car. When we got to my place, he asked: "How long could I stay here?" "As long as you want, Samson. Mi casa es su casa." At that point he started to cry. I hugged him. This was not the Samson I remembered, this was a broken Samson. After a shower and some food he crashed on the couch. He was obviously exhausted.

He was still asleep when I left for work the next morning, but I was determined to figure out what happened that evening. When I got back home, he was in the kitchen preparing food. He wanted to surprise me by preparing dinner. It was apparently a traditional filipino dish his grandmother thought him to cook, and it was scrumptious. While we were eating, he explained some of what happened. The drug use he had referred to that one night at the sales conference, now a couple of years ago, had gradually gotten out of control. He lost his job a fews months ago. He obviously needed a lot of money to sustain his drug use. He started to sell his - still gorgeous - body for money, he became a prostitute. His clientele were almost exclusively men, as they were much easier to find then women. He first lied about it to his girlfriend, but she found out and did not want anything to do with him. And now he was at a dead end. His story broke my heart, and I grabbed his hand. "When was the last time you used?" "A couple of days ago, less than a week." "Would you be willing to consider rehab?" "Yeah, I need help." "Ok. I will find you a rehab center and make sure you get in." "These centers can be expensive, I lost my insurance." "Don't worry about it." "I don't know how to thank you, man." "I do. Make sure you become clean, and pick your life back up."

After dinner we watched a little bit of TV, and then it was time for bed. I headed to my room, he still crashed on the couch. But a few minutes after I turned off my lights, Samson gently knocked on my door. "Can I come in?" "Sure." Without saying anything, he entered the room. In the limited light that there was, I could see he was completely naked. "Could I sleep here, with you? The couch is not the most comfortable." "Sure, no problem. Hop in." As he got into bed, he started to snuggle against me, his dick pressing against my butt. His smell was the same musk that got to me during that evening in the bar at the business conference. I've been somewhat in denial about it but now had to admit to myself, I've longed for this for so many months. My heart was racing. Samson's hands started to caress me, and gradually wandered to my cock. He started stroking me. "Samson?" "Hmm." "You have no idea how much I want this..." "I actually do know. I'm not as naive as you think I am. Or perhaps not anymore." "... but I really need you to want this too. Do you? Do you really?" "I am still straight, more or less. But sex is also a language, a way of expressing love. And I do love you, more than anyone. You've been my most loyal friend." And then he kissed me. Gently first, almost hesitantly. But quickly growing into a passionate kiss. His mouth then started to wander down my body, and when he licked the top of my dick with his tongue I saw stars. The blowjob that followed was unforgettable, and I returned the favor of course. The taste of his cock was exquisite, similar to the smell of his musk. Samson flipped me on my back, and he straddled me. He positioned himself, and gradually lowered himself on my hard cock. Even though I have a large 9" dick, it slipped in easy. I felt a sudden pang of jealousy, realizing that probably many men had fucked Samson, my Samson, the past few months. I anxiously wondered what kind of guy took his virginity. I quickly chased the thought away. Samson knew what he was doing, putting his ass muscles to work. "I want you to cum inside me." I felt he was getting close himself, and when I came he almost immediately came too, splattering five or six volleys of his cum on me, two of which hit my face. His semen tasted great, and then he bended over, licked some of it off me and gave me a sloppy wet kiss, providing me more of his cum. We cuddled a little after that, but fell asleep quickly.

The next morning I called the office to take a few days off, and Samson and I went looking for a rehab center for him to go to. We found a nice one that would take him on a sixty day program.

While he was in the program, I went and visited him every weekend. And of course I was there when he was released. I had butterflies in my stomach, I even brought flowers for him. After he got out those flowers ended up in a vase on my kitchen table as he continued to crash at my place. We had incredible sex many more times in the weeks that followed. It was heavenly, and I had started to fantasize about a life with Samson. I was falling in love, daydreaming about a future together with him.

If this was a fairytale, that is probably what would have happened. But that is not how this story goes. Samson is "still straight, more or less" and as he got back on his feet financially with a new job, he eventually moved out. We're still close friends, but he has a new girlfriend now. We hang out sometimes, and she seems good to him, keeping him on the straight and narrow. I am happy for Samson, but I am also a little heartbroken.

Comments are more than welcome. This my first contribution to Nifty, and I would love to learn what you think of my work. My email is andrew.r.gabriel@gmail.com