The tale you are about to read is real. The events actually happened, although in some instances minor details may have been changed for story content purposes. Names of the individuals have been altered to protect the guilty as well as the innocent (myself, of course!).
I retain all copyright to this story and it may not be used by anyone other than Nifty without my express permission.
Until the frigid winter of 1982 I was a completely satisfied, reasonably attractive, heterosexual male. Indeed, I had even contemplated proposing marriage to my live-in girlfriend of two years. Tina was intelligent, attractive, and a sexual adventuress---everything a man could want from his mate. We made love in the morning, again during our luncheon rendezvous, and culminated our day with a late-night fuck and suck session. There was nothing Tina wouldn't do sexually: public sex, sodomy, cunnilingus, fellatio, light S & M and bondage all entered into our repertoire. Together we were sexual dynamite, never anticipating the sudden spark which would soon split us apart.
My recent promotion necessitated a forty-plus mile commute and, since Tina's job required residing in close proximity, I begrudgingly took the arduous hike every day. My position was challenging, the salary more than adequate, and the experience rewarding. However, my new schedule took a serious bite out of our sexual appetite. Morning sex grew seldom, gone were our luncheon tete-a-tetes, and even most evenings we were too exhausted to make the effort. Our highly charged erotic life shorted out to a weekend affair.
Grand opening of the newly constructed super- supermarket, with which I was employed, was approaching with rapidity while the place remained in mass disorganization. Checkstands had not been installed, shelves were only partially stocked, electrical wiring was still being run, and hiring had not yet been completed. In the midst of this chaos, I glanced out across the counter of my platform office in the vicinity of the delicatessen and into the most sensual pair of eyes I had ever seen in my twenty-five years. They were hazel in color, framed by long curved lashes, twinkling with excitement, danger, and Every Mans Desire. And they belonged to another man!
Now, as I mentioned at the beginning of this tale, my sexual desires revolved around members of the fairer sex. But, truth be told, in my formative teenage years I harbored curiosity about other boys---especially the gay ones. I wondered what it would be like to have another guy going down on me; fantasized spreading the high school jock's muscled ass with my rod; imagined how hot cum would taste on my tongue; wanted to believe that Boys Do It Better. But my first taste of juicy pussy put an end to those thoughts---until the day when I looked into those dark lusting angel eyes.
He was bold in his gaze, never flinching, never looking away, continuing to hold eye contact with me. I desperately wanted to break the spell but for some inexplicable reason found myself unable---or unwilling---to. A slight smile curved one corner of his sensuous lips and a quick nod in my direction told me he knew I was captivated. Reluctantly I pulled away from his hypnotic gaze, yet throughout the day I continually cast furtive glances in his general direction.
He stood about six foot tall, his body long and lean like a swimmer's. Shoulder length hair (remember this was the eighties) framed his handsome features, parted high on one side and falling low across his forehead. His skin was smooth and clean-shaven; his lips full and moist. Fine hairs escaped the collar of his flannel work shirt, which hung loosely on his slim torso while faded denim jeans clung to narrow hips and shapely buttocks. Several times during the day he caught me checking him out and returned the favor by running those Shameless eyes up and down my manly body. I must admit that I found myself uncharacteristically enjoying the blatant overtures and, later that night, pounded Tina as I had never before.
Surprisingly, grand opening went off splendidly and we were a success. Over the next month things settled into a routine and co-workers began to create their cliques. Several days passed before I physically came into contact with the guy whose eyes locked with mine almost constantly from across the way. I had just punched my time card to end another difficult day and was returning it to the employee rack when I half-turned and---there he was---standing directly behind me! I looked into those familiar hazel orbs and, internally, melted. My Hidden Instincts threatened to surface, but I managed to maintain a status quo. He spoke first.
"All finished for the day?"
"One more down," I allowed, fighting back my unexplained nervousness at being in such close proximity to the deli-tease.
At close range he appeared rather ordinary and certainly not someone to whom you would normally give a second look. His skin was smooth and unblemished, the long angular cut of his face broken by high cheek bones and a slight cleft in his chin. Yet those predatory eyes made him the most desirable person I had ever met. He looked at me as though I were the prey, and he the mighty hunter.
Unexpectedly, he leaned close to me and whispered his hot breath into my ear.
"Have a haaaaaard night!" And then, just as suddenly, he turned and left.
Composing myself, I nervously glanced around to be sure our exchange had not been observed and then headed out of the building to my car. From across the lot I saw him opening the door to his vehicle. Almost as if he knew I was watching, he turned to look directly at me, winked and then slid into the automobile. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, I hurried to my Mustang, jammed the key into the ignition and high-tailed it out of there. All the way home, visions of this mysterious man filled my conscious thoughts and later that night, as Tina's burgundy-glossed lips circled my blood-engorged erection, I closed my eyes and fantasized the stud servicing me. My vision was so intense that I came almost immediately, flooding Tina's loving mouth with my jism and then ferociously ate out her pussy.
The next day failed to bring an end to these sudden and Ultimate Desires. Just the sight of him slicing cold-cuts behind the glass-encased counter gave me a woodie. I wondered why, after all these years, such repressed feelings were resurfacing and resolved that I must not give in. I had a good thing going with Tina and there was no logical reason to threaten our relationship. Having never touched another man classified me as "straight" and "straight" I would remain.
Later in the day, returning to my office from the men's room, I was approached by the beastly security guard who generally policed the loading dock. In contrast to the deli-boy, this man was possibly the ugliest human being I had ever laid eyes upon. He was short, fat, bald, had an unpleasant body odor and, in general, resembled Quasimodo. We had previously worked together in another location prior to the opening of this store. I hadn't liked him then---and I didn't like him now.
"I see you're friendly with the fag," he growled, his left eye twitching as it often did.
At first I was taken aback at his bold statement. Not wanting to engage in conversation with the creep, yet intrigued by his words, I swallowed my revulsion and pressed him. "Fag! Who?"
He tossed his head in the direction of the delicatessen. A whisp of gray hair dislodged from his comb-over to fall across his face. He spat onto his fat dirty hand and slicked it back into place.
"The pretty one named Ray......and his boyfriend.......over there."
On more than one occasion I had observed Ray leaving in a baby blue Corvette with an older man who also worked behind the deli counter. While Ray appeared to be a few years my junior, this other man had to be every bit of forty. He was an average looking man of medium build with a round face, big impressive eyes, a thick well-groomed mustache and almost too-dark hair, indicating a dye job. Fine lines had formed around his eyes, probably from too much time spent in the sun. In the short time we had worked together Bert, as he was called, impressed me as being an outgoing and friendly sort. In my naivety, I had never stopped to consider them as lovers.
"H-How do you know that?" I stammered, not really wanting to continue a conversation with stinky, but my curiosity had been aroused.
Trollman rolled his eyes and clucked his tongue. "The young one tried to hit on me in the john and his bitch got pissed. Not that I woulda let him blow me," he hastily added.
Yeah, right, I thought. Somehow the thought of this young handsome guy initiating sex with beast-man didn't ring true. I glanced over at the deli counter and was stunned to see both men watching the exchange between myself and chubbo. Repulsed, I attempted to break away from the douchesac but he had also observed our audience. Grasping my by the forearm with his dirty claw he leaned close and whispered in my ear. His hot fetid breath assaulted my senses as he warned:
"Watch out! They make movies of the guys they snag! You wouldn't want your girl friend to see one, would ya?" And then he hobbled away.
I stood dumbfounded on the sales floor and attempted to process the events of the past few moments. Just what was his interest in this situation? Had he, by observing me in polite conversation with the men, presumed that I was of their persuasion and this was his feeble attempt at "flushing me out"? A multitude of disturbing thoughts flashed through my mind. Glancing over at the deli I saw the two lovers whispering conspiratorially while casting a seemingly knowing look at me. What the hell was going on? How had my life suddenly become so complicated?
That night I resolved to go home, make mad passionate love to Tina and wipe these foreign thoughts from my mind. Then I would explain to her the bizarre circle of events transpiring at work and we would thrash it all out. Holding nothing back, I planned to tell her of my strange and unexplained attraction to this boy. Of all the people I knew, Tina was the least judgemental. She would have the answer.
Arriving home to our tiny apartment, I tossed the keys onto the overstuffed sofa and rushed to the refrigerator where I confiscated a nice cold Molson. Popping off the cap, I took a long draw of the beer and sauntered over to the dining room area. There, propped up between the salt and pepper shaker, was a piece of Tina's stationary with a note scrawled in her immaculate hand.
"Sorry Babe. Mom's feeling down tonight. Anniversary of the day Daddy died. I'm going to spend the night with her. I know you'll understand. Left overs are in the fridge. Love you. T"
Tina and I never had that conversation.
The full force of winter didn't strike until late March of that year. For days weather forecasters had warned of an impending storm but they never guessed at the blizzard which dumped over a foot and a half of snow over the tri-state area. Thick snowflakes began to fall by late morning and, by the time my shift had ended, almost a foot of the stuff was on the ground. The governor had declared a state of emergency, making any thought of my driving home an impossibility. Knowing there was a hotel a short distance away, I braved the storm and trudged through the heavy white fluff to my Mustang which, incidentally, handled quite poorly in inclement conditions. My ski jacket provided some protection from the driving wind which made the snow feel like tiny needles attacking my face as I worked diligently with gloved hands to remove the mounds of snow from my vehicle. I had almost completed the task when a voice from behind shouted through the howling wind.
"Not gonna drive home in thie stuff, are ya?" With the hood of his parka pulled low I recognized Bert by his mustache and even white teeth.
"Gonna check into the Motor Lodge," I shouted back.
"Didn't you hear, man?" he countered. "They're all booked up. Been that way for hours."
Shit! Now what was I going to do? Go back inside and sleep on a checkstand all night? The thought was far from appealing. I cursed myself for not having left the moment the storm started.
"Why don't you come and stay at my place?" Bert offered cheerily, "I'm only a few miles down the road."
There I stood in the falling snow, my car wheels practically covered, darkness approaching, no way to get home and the only hotel in town had no vacancy, It seemed I had very few options and should be grateful for Bert's overture.
"Thanks," I responded. "I'd appreciate that."
"Oh," he smiled, "It'll be my pleasure." Had the hood of his jacket not been pulled low to protect his face I would have seen a mischievous twinkling in those large brown eyes.
Bert carefully made his way through the drifting snow to Ray's awaiting vehicle. Obviously knowing that "Vets handled worse than "Stangs in snow, he had left his sports car home. Slowly Ray made his way out of the parking lot with me following from a safe distance behind. Roadways were extremely treacherous, vision was minimal, and I held my wheel in a Power Grip to maintain control of the vehicle. The four mile trip took us nearly an hour!
Bert's house was a big old three-story structure located in a residential area not far from the railroad station. As it turned out, the house belonged to his grandmother, who greeted us at the door. The old lady looked every bit of eighty and a nicer person I had never met. She helped us off with our weather gear and served up hot chocolate while spinning tales in broken English about winters in the "old country" during her youth. I was made to feel very much at home.
Shortly, Bert suggested we retire to the "play room" and watch television or play video games. The "play room" turned out to be the renovated basement. This area had been completely modernized wtih a wet bar, cozy corner nook and cushioned seating which ran along the expanse of three walls. The blue walls were adorned with movie and television memorobilia and a wide-screen set dominated the predominantly blue room. The basement reminded me of a futuristic studio apartment and I wondered if this is where i was to spend the evening.
I had been deposited here while the boys left to change out of their work clothes. Perusing the video cassettes, alphabetically arranged in the built-in shelving I noticed the owner's strong interest in Bette Davis and James Bond.
"Find anything you like?" I turned to see the handsome Ray, now dressed in a simple pair of drawstring sweat pants (blue) and T-shirt. He padded across the carpeted floor in stocking feet to stand beside me and whispered conspiritorially, "He keeps the good stuff hidden."
Any question I had about the "good stuff" caught in my throat as Bert suddenly breezed back into the room. The older man was literally squeezed into a red tank top and extremely short cut-off jeans. There was no mistaking the massive bulge his equipment made in the too-tight outfit as he flitted about the room tidying up. I could feel Ray's eyes burning into me and was certain he knew I had noticed his lover's basket----but that, i was certain, was the idea.
"Why don't you make yourself comfortable?" Bert offered as he flicked on the television and inserted a cassette into the video player. In actuality, I had begun to feel quite uncomfortable. Their Untamed Seduction was becoming more and more apparant and my Natural Response was to make a hasty retreat. But, with the weather conditions outside, that was impossible. I was a prisoner in the home of these two gay lovers.
Either due to nervousness or the excessive heating in this portion of the house, I began to perspire profusely and knew I had to ditch some of my winter clothing. Pulling the heavy cardigan sweater over my head provided some relief, but when I removed the dress shirt beneath I felt much better. Attired in black slacks and white tank top, I sat back on the comfortable cushioned bench and resolved to make the best of the situation.
As the video player launched into a concert from David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust days, Ray went into the other room to fix refreshments while Bert and I chatted, mostly about work. The attention his eyes paid to my muscular arms and heaving pectorals was obvious. But hell, I was hot (in more ways than one) and refused to be intimidated by the man. Truth be known, I had been making an appraisal of his body as well.
Seeing Bert in his skimpy attire, as opposed to the rigid work code, was interesting. This fortyish man who appeared so ordinary behind the deli counter took on a new appearance in his own familiar surroundings. His exposed arms were strong and tight, waistline trim, legs long and hairy. Tufts of dark hair peeked out from his tank top and escaped from the arm holes while darkened nipples stood out against the stretched fabric. The seemingly expanding bulge to the left of the zipper on his Daisy Dukes attested to the fact that underwear were not in his repertoire. I had made my appraisal discreetly through the course of our casual conversation, but was suddenly sure he had seen me checking out his groin. Realizing I was Pushing the Limit, I crimsoned and turned my attention back to the screen. My predicament was precarious enough without offering them any encouragement.
Ray made his return with three glasses of pale pink liquid over ice----some vodka and cranberry concoction---the first of which he served to his man-friend. As he approached with my cocktail, his crotch was at eye level and I couldn't help but notice the jiggle under his sweats as his package bounced freely. Neither of them wore undergarments----or was this part of their seduction? I took the drink from Ray, our hands absently brushing, and gulped from the glass. This proved to be a mistake since Ray's mixology method was obviously 98% alcohol and 2% mixer. Not being much a drinker this threatened to unbalance my Libran scales.
Ray took a seat on the floor between myself and Bert, long legs stretched out in front of him. As it turned out he was the David Bowie fan. I confessed to not being particularly knowledgeable about the singer, prompting Bert to jump from his seat and rummage through his tape collection for something that would interest me. I was secretly amused at how eager they were to please and sipped more of my drink.
The tape whirred in the machine and soon a grainy image flashed across the screen. A nurse in an unusually short uniform wiggled like a chanteuse down the dimly lit corridor to a makeshift nurses station. Out of nowhere a man in white (the doctor, I presumed) grabbed her from behind, tossed her up against the wall and thrust his hand under her dress.
I let out a nervous laugh. "What are we watching?"
"A porno flick," replied Bert, wide eyes fixed intently on me. "You are familiar with porn, aren't you?"
"Sure," I shrugged. "It's cool with me."
The nurse's uniform was totally off now and the doctor's face was buried in her bush. One thing that drove Tina wild was having her pussy eaten and I'd become an excellent snatch snacker. The scene depicted on sceen, and the memory of our last oral escapade, made my cock begin to stir under my cotton slacks. My attention remained riveted to the screen as Linda Lovelace made porn history with her male co-star. There was no controlling my pecker, which had stiffened considerably.
All of this had not gone unnoticed by my two hosts who, I realized, were glaring with wanton abandon at the tent in my pants. Damn my male libido! Nervously I drained the glass, crossed my legs and hid my hands between them. Despite my objections Ray was up in a heartbeat and hurried off to prepare another--- leaving Bert and I alone.
"You like that?" Bert asked pointedly.
"Yeah," I said quickly. "I like that a lot." Let him know that girls turn me on, I thought, grasping at some form of self-preservation.
"That's not what we hear," he countered in a sing-songy I've-got-a-secret voice.
"W-What?" I stammered. "What do you mean?"
By then Ray had returned with my drink and I practically downed the entire thing in one slug. Bert had merely shrugged his naked shoulder at my query, playing a game of cat and mouse. I was feeling the booze and had no patience for games. I shot my head over to look Ray directly in those sultry eyes.
"Are you gonna tell me what he's talkin' about?"
Reaching out to put his hand on my knee cap and absently rub, he avoided my eyes and replied, "It's just that we heard some stories. From the security troll."
So that was it! The rotten little bastard was playing both ends against the middle. His motive soon became apparent. The alcohol had made me bold and I confronted the situation head-on.
"He's been telling me stories about the two of you, too," I revealed. "Now why don't you stop pussy-footing around and tell me exactly what he said regarding me?"
Bert and Ray exchanged quick glances. In that silent interlude it had been resolved that Bert would expose the tale. Ray remained squatting on his haunches in front of me but his hand, unsure at this turn of events, had left my leg. Bert's initial statement slapped me across the face:
"He told us that you and he were lovers," he began. "That you lived with a girl merely for appearances and that you stayed with him on weekends where he--------"
I swallowed hard, "Go on."
Bert looked me dead in the eye. "He said that he fucks you continually. And that you beg for more."
I began to laugh. I laughed so hard and so loud I thought Grandma would come bounding down the stairs at any moment. I laughed so hard that if I had to urinate there would have been no control. Tears streamed down my cheeks....my gut ached from the spasms.....my thigh hurt from the slapping I gave it....... Then I saw their confused faces and I laughed even harder.
"And.........and..........and you.......... believed that?" I managed. "You thought I was doing the back door disco with him and decided it was your turn for a piece of the action? Holy shit!"
Ray slowly spoke. "So you're saying.........you're saying that it's not.........."
"NO!" I shouted. "OF COURSE NOT! How could you even think I would touch that skanky perverted piece of shit! Never in a million years! If I'm gonna go gay he's gotta be one hot motherfucker!"
"Like Ray," Bert said pointedly.
That quieted me instantly.
My story will conclude in a second part. Hope you enjoyed it thus far.