My life has been a series of random events; an endless parade of gaffes and non-sequiturs. No goals set--no plans made--just drifting aimlessly on tiny stream to nowhere. One meaningless relationship after another--dead-end jobs--no hobbies or interests that anyone I knew cared about, and an attitude that can only be described as indifferent.
"Hey, what are you doing down there?" she screeched in her whiny, high-pitched voice.
I was glad she said something--it gave me the chance to get my nose out of her pussy long enough to gulp down some fresh air.
"I'm pleasuring you," I said. Even I didn't believe that line.
"No, you're not--your tongue feels like sandpaper--you're not buffing a car--you're thirty-two years old and you don't know how to lick a va-jay-jay?"
Va-jay-jay? Good grief...
"I'm outta here," she declared as she swung a hefty leg over my head and jumped out of bed. "You know, all the girls at the club think you're cute for your age and wonder why you're single," she said as she hurriedly dressed. "I'll let'em know why--you're a lousy lay and you have a bad attitude--you can't even `get it up'--I think you're queer--where the hell are my panties?"
I'm a lousy lay with a bad attitude? Yeah, I couldn't disagree with that.
After she stormed out of the room and I heard the front door slam shut, I rolled off the bed and searched for my briefs. Earlier, in the heat of the moment, we frantically stripped each other and clothes were flying everywhere.
I found my shirt and slacks, but no underwear. Out of chance I looked on the other side of the bed. Her red nylon panties were on the floor. I picked them up and held them in my hand. I liked the feel of them. My penis began to rise for the first time that night. I rubbed them across my chest then on my thighs. I achieved a full-blown erection.
Is this too weird? I wondered. Nah, not for me. I wrapped the panties around my cock and stroked my shaft. OOhhh, I really liked that!
I was into it' now. I lay back on the bed and stroked away. My entire body tingled. The feel of the panties on my cock was a whole new sensation. It felt--dare I say it--extremely delightful'. I was getting close--I stroked my shaft faster-and-faster--suddenly my balls contracted and my body jerked wildly on the bed. I shot jet-after-jet of cum into the red nylon panties. Whew! I lay there breathing hard--it was the best orgasm I'd had in a long, long time.
The next evening when I went to work at the club the girls whispered to each other and pointed at me, and the gay guys winked and wanted to high-five me.
People are effing nuts, I thought.
I was bartending in the service bar, as usual. The main bar in the club was staffed by twenty-somethings. Me, being in my early thirties, was considered too old to work the main bar. The difference was about 200 dollars a night in tips. Needless to say, I wasn't thrilled with my employment situation.
Toward the end of my shift, Fred the Owner came up to me. "John, I'm gonna have to let you go," he said.
"Why?" I asked.
"We been watching you--you've been over-pouring," he said with a straight face.
"How can I over-pour with an automatic liquor gun?" I asked incredulously.
"We been watching you--here's your last check--good luck finding anything else in this economy."
I took the check from him and left the club. The girl from last night was his daughter. I had to have been temporarily insane.
He was right, though. The job market was brutal. As much as I disliked that job, it kept a roof over my head. Now what? I wondered.
I bought a couple bottles of cheap wine and went home and turned on the tv and stared at it like a zombie. What the hell am I doing with my life? I asked myself. This is ridiculous. No family in this town--not even any close friends to speak of. What have I been doing here the last five years?
I was down to my last bottle of wine and was flipping through the channels when I saw that Skin-a-Max was showing a soft core porn flick. I watched it and the one that followed and finished the wine. When it was over, I unsteadily rose from the couch and went to my bedroom and stripped off my clothes. I hesitated for a second then reached down into the waste basket and retrieved the red nylon panties from the night before and went to bed.
The next few days of job searching were an exercise in futility. Nobody was stupid enough to leave their jobs in this economy so there were no openings. Rent was due in seven days and while I had enough money saved to pay it, I'd be broke after that. I was getting nervous so I made the phone call of last resort. The next day I packed my car with a few belongings, gave my apartment key to the landlord, and drove off to `The Low Desert Resort & Spa'.
It was only a two-hour drive but it was a lifetime away from the city. The season' at the resort didn't start for another two weeks, but I agreed to work in housekeeping and help open' the guest rooms until the season started then I would be a host/cashier in the cafe. There weren't any bartending jobs available unless someone failed to show.
In my sincerest voice I had told the lady I'd be happy to do whatever it took to help out the company. I've always been good at faking sincerity.
I thought back to my previous tour of duty in the middle of nowhere. I worked five seasons there before I moved to the city. The first time around I had a love/hate relationship with the place. They have a great golf course that employees play for free, but outside of that, there wasn't much else to do. If you didn't work at night it was difficult to stay out of the bars and save any money. Some of the resort was open year-round, if you didn't mind living in a place that was hotter than Hades in the summertime.
When I arrived, I checked-in and received my room assignment. Another thing I didn't like about the place was you had to share a room with someone, and you never knew what type of person you'd be living with for eight months. I'm sure you can picture the possibilities. For at least the first week, however, I'd have a room to myself.
That night at dinner I ran into a few people who were still there from five years ago, and they filled me in with the latest news and gossip, and who would be returning and who wouldn't. There were a lot of names I still knew.
The next morning I was assigned to work with Mark and Jamie, a couple queens I'd known five years ago. They were still together after all these years. They worked there year-round and loved it.
"Tennis, golf, swimming--except for the `job part', it's like we've been on one long vacation," Jamie gushed. When the season started, they'd both be waiters in The Gourmet Room. They only took two weeks off every year. They were excellent employees; they had a plan; they saved their money and they would retire in ten years.
The resort had two separate guest housing areas and we were opening the `cabins'. It was dirty and hot work. The cabins had been closed for three months, all the furniture covered with sheets, and our job was to take off the sheets, dust and vacuum then clean the bathroom. September in the desert the temperatures were still around a hundred-and-ten, and you had to be careful when you pulled the sheets off--little stinging, creepy-crawlers like scorpions and vinegaroons could get pretty nasty when you disturbed their hiding places .
It was almost a fun job. We worked hard but we talked about life and world events and we laughed a lot.
"Johnny, are you still insisting you're not gay?" Jamie would tease me. "You're way-too pretty not to be--even for an `old guy'."
The first cabin we cleaned after lunch, I was in the bathroom scrubbing, when I heard Mark and Jamie making lovey-dovey noises and kissing. I peaked out the door and watched Jamie go to his knees and open Marks pants. I stood transfixed; I couldn't take my eyes away while Jamie sucked and fondled Mark's rather large prick. I was amazed at how much of the cock Jamie could get into his mouth.
Marks' eyes were closed and his head tilted back. Jamie's hands were busy stroking the shaft and massaging Marks' balls. His head and hand moved faster-and-faster on Marks' cock. I didn't really want to watch, but I couldn't turn away either. I remembered a couple months ago when I was at work and I accidentally opened the wrong door: I saw one of the gay guys on his knees sucking a cock. When I looked at the lucky recipient, it was Fred the Owner. They didn't see me, and I closed the door quietly.
Holy shit! I thought. Why didn't I mention that when Fred fired me? I'm sure if I'd brought up his wife and daughter I would have saved my job! Good grief, I thought. Why do I always think of these things after-the-fact?
Jamie sucked Marks' cock for a good ten minutes. When I heard a low guttural noise escape Marks' lips, I knew he would cum soon. I wanted to see what Jamie would do with Marks' load. I didn't have to wait long: Marks' hips began gyrating and he cried out. I could hear Jamie make swallowing and gulping noises as he took Marks' jism in his mouth. He never spilled a drop.
"It's safe to come out now, Johnny," I heard Jamie exclaim.
I didn't know what to do or say so when I walked out of the bathroom my face was beet red, and I just stood there.
"You know, cutie," Mark said, "...if you're this excited by just watching, maybe tomorrow you can kneel beside Jamie and he'll give you some pointers." He said as he pointed at my erection pushing against the front of my pants.
"I..ah, I..." I stammered; I hadn't realized I'd gotten a hard-on watching them.
Jamie laughed, "Sweetie, would you like me to do' you next? Or would you rather wait until Markie gets hard again so you can do' him?"
I broke out in nervous laughter; my face still bright red.
"Johnny, just so you know," Jamie explained, "...I do this for Markie every day after lunch--I know how to keep my man satisfied! If you want, you can join in or come out here and watch. You can take yours out while you're watching and jerk-off, for all we care."
They laughed and I joined in. It's not like I'm a prude or anything, but after that incident, I made myself scarce after lunch until they were ready to work again. I could still hear them, and maybe my imagination ran wild at times, but I didn't feel the need or have the inclination to join them.
Every night at bedtime, I would take the red nylon panties out from their hiding place and give myself a fantastic orgasm. I learned I had to wash them after every use so the cum didn't dry and make the nylon material crusty. I shook my head in wonderment at my bizarre thinking and behavior.
When we finished cleaning the guest cabins, we started on the employee cabins. These were away from the guest areas, and were near the employee laundry room and employee pub.
These cabins were older and somewhat shabby. Many years ago they were for guests, but when they built new guest cabins, instead of tearing them down, they allowed the employees to live in them. Each cabin had two twin beds, a table and two chairs, and a bathroom. That was it. Not much space for two people living together. They were identical to the one where I was living.
It was towards the end of our work day when we approached a cabin that sat-off by itself, under two large shade trees. It was bigger than the rest, and appeared to be in better repair than the others.
"Who lives here--a manager?" I asked.
Jamie giggled, "No, this is Rique's cabin," he said as he unlocked the door.
I was stunned when we walked inside. There was a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room; a mahogany table and three chairs, heavy drapes covering the windows, plush carpeting on the floor and a full-size electric stove and refrigerator. The bathroom was large and modern, too.
"So who's this `Rickey' person," I asked.
"Ree-que--not Rickey--short for Enrique," Mark corrected me, "...he's the best waiter in The Gourmet Room...Jamie and I are excellent waiters, but Rique is a notch above everyone here...a Type-A personality..." he added with a smile, ...and a perfect physical specimen. His other nickname is the `Sultry Latin Lover'."
"No offense," I said, "...but how does a waiter rate this kind of place, and why is he allowed to live alone?"
They both laughed. Jamie answered my question. "Like Markie said, he's a strong Type-A personality--wait until you meet him--and he won't be living alone. He definitely is The Sultry Latin Lover'. After a couple weeks, Rique will choose' a roommate. He'll look around at the available talent' that's working here this season, and he'll choose someone and that person will move in here with Rique to be his girl'...you're going to be surprised...I guarantee there will be at least five or six queers working here whose sole purpose for coming here is to be `Rique's Girl'!"
I told them it sounded strange to me that one guy, a waiter at that, could have so much power. It all sounded a little `out there', if you know what I mean.
"Now Johnny, we just hope you don't become bitter and jealous when Rique doesn't pick you to be his girl...he does have standards, you know...he likes his girls to be under a hundred!" said Jamie, and they howled with fits of laughter.
"Well, I just might prove you guys wrong!" I said, and we all laughed at that one.
When we finished cleaning, Jamie went to his laundry cart and pulled out satin sheets and an ornate bedspread, definitely not standard issue linens here.
"I kept these for Rique when he left", Jamie explained.
"Good grief," I said, as I rolled my eyes. They both smiled and laughed.
The opening of the `season' was days away, and I began helping to clean-up The Café (coffee shop, really) where I would be working; Mark and Jamie went to work in The Gourmet Room at The Lodge.
I finally got a roommate, a cook at The Café named "Bear". Like his name, he was big and hairy. We both viewed each other as necessary annoyances. His second night there he tried to crawl into my bed.
"What the hell are you doing?" I asked, keeping calm.
"This is what we do here--we `help out' one another," he replied.
"I'm not gay," I said.
He laughed, "Get off it...I watched you work with your pretty-boy friend's today...you'll never convince me you're not a faggot...how do you want it: in your mouth or your ass?"
Now I was becoming alarmed: "Look, I'm not queer! Get out of my bed." He tried to pin me to the bed but I slipped out from under him and rolled off the bed. "Don't touch me again--you might beat the shit out of me but I'll mess you up, too!"
From then on our only form of communication was grunts to acknowledge each others' presence.
I had a PO Box at the Post Office. One day I was checking the mail and as I came outside a Lamborghini LP 700 drove up and parked; an unusual occurrence, to say the least. When the driver got out of the car, the sunlight played off his head and the trees and I would swear it looked like he had a halo over his head. I knew immediately who it was: Rique, of course.
We passed each other and I smiled and he smiled back at me. When he went inside the post office I stopped in my tracks: "Oh my God," I said aloud to myself, my pulse racing all because of his beautiful smile. Jamie's description of him didn't do him justice. I had never seen a man as handsome as him. I felt foolish about my reaction to him and went on my way.
Every night after work I went to the employee pub and lost myself in wine and bar games. I was doing exactly what I told myself I wouldn't do: spend hard earned money I couldn't afford.
To hell with it, I thought. I was pretty good at pool, pinball, and foosball and the camaraderie with my co-workers was fun and lifted my spirits. So far I hadn't seen or met any single female employees, which wasn't unusual out here. I hung out with the gay guys, they were fun, and always teasing me about my `sexual orientation'.
It was about a week into the season when I walked into the pub after work, and the place was packed. I heard Jamie call my name so I signed the chalkboard to play pool, and found a chair next to him and sat down. When I looked up, there sitting directly across the table from me was Rique. I felt my heart skip a beat. I blushed.
"Rique, this is Johnny, he works in The Café," Jamie introduced us.
He stood, reached across the table to shake my hand and said, "It is a pleasure to meet you."
I was confused, was I supposed to stand to shake his hand? I remained seated. He had a firm grip. His hand dwarfed mine. I didn't know what to say.
Finally I blurted out, "I hear you're a helluva waiter!"
I felt embarrassed the moment I said it. I blushed again. I wondered what was wrong with me. I stared into his eyes; his gaze burned into me. We both smiled then someone yelled my name--it was my turn to shoot pool. I excused myself and left the table.
I'd be playing against Chuckie. He was a busboy in The Café. He was a little too gay, if you know what I mean. I'd call him a flamer, I guess `twink' is another word.
I never really thought much about my attitude concerning gay people. To me, they were like everyone else, and I interacted with them the same as I would with anyone. What I found was that most of the gay people I knew seemed intelligent, were fun to be with, were hard workers and they generally had great personalities. I couldn't care less what they did in private. However, just like everywhere, there are people you just don't care for, you'd rather not be around them, Chuckie was one of those people.
The pool game we always played was eight-ball. The lower numbered balls 1-7 are called solids' because they are one color. The balls 9-15 are called stripes', they had a stripe around them. The black eight ball was neutral. Whoever broke', if they made a solid or stripe on the break, that was what they needed for the rest of the game. Once you made all your solids' or `stripes', then you tried to make the eight ball to win the game. If you made the eight ball on the break--you won the game. If you made the eight ball before you made all of your other balls--you lost the game.
Since Chuckie was the winner of the previous game, he `broke the rack'. He made two stripes on the break, and I had to wait until he missed. He made one more ball then missed. I missed an easy shot and it was Chuckie's turn again.
I looked at the chalkboard to see who signed up to play. Rique's name was fourth on the list. That meant, in order to play against Rique, I'd have to beat Chuckie, and the next three players. I'd played these guys before and beaten them, so I cleared the fog out of my mind and concentrated hard on the game.
Chuckie and I were both down to the eight ball and he missed a fairly easy shot. I made the eight and won the game. One down--three to go.
I had a good `break' on the next game, and made five balls before I missed. I looked over at the table where Mark, Jamie and Rique sat. There were three flamers all vying for Rique's attention. Wannabe's, I thought. Chuckie had wormed his way into the seat next to Rique. I felt an odd and foreign emotion. What was it? I wondered. Jealousy? Can't be--what could I be jealous of? It occurred to me that Chuckie may have lost his game to me on purpose. Back to the current game, I won the game on my next three shots. Two down--two to go.
The next game I won easily. My opponent was drunk and could barely see the balls. Three down--one to go.
I looked over and Chuckie was gone from the table. As a matter-of-fact, so were Mark and Jamie. Rique was alone talking with Eddie, the host/cashier at The Steakhouse. Eddie? I wondered. Sure, he's a good looking kid, but I didn't think he was Rique's type--whatever that was.
I made a poor break on the next game. The balls were huddled together, and since Bob, my opponent and I were pretty good players, I knew we were in for a long game. No one wanted to make the mistake that would open up the table for the other guy. I kept taking furtive glances at Rique's table; he and Eddie were talking and smiling. I briefly considered breaking up the balls to give Bob the advantage but I fought that urge. After what seemed like forever, I made three balls in-a-row and made a cross-corner bank shot on the eight ball to win the game.
I thought I'd have to tell Rique it was his turn, but to my surprise he'd been paying attention and came right over and racked the balls. I watched him as he racked; he was probably three inches taller than me and forty pounds heavier. He wore a tight fitting casual shirt and I couldn't see an ounce of fat anywhere. His hands were large, and his chest and shoulders were broad and well-defined.
When he finished racking the balls he said, "Ahhh, Johnny--go at it, my friend."
My friend? We smiled at one another.
Wouldn't you know it? The odds are heavily favored against it happening--I've only done it a handful of times in my entire life: I made the eight ball on the break--I won--the game was over. For some reason, I felt disappointed.
Rique had a huge smile on his face as he came over and shook my hand.
"Johnny, beautiful shot--I see you are a man to be reckoned with," he complimented me. His voice was as soothing and friendly as his demeanor.
He hung up his pool cue and said, "I must bid you goodnight...perhaps you will offer me a rematch another time?"
"Ah...yeah, of course!" Smooth John--real smooth.
He turned to walk out of the pub then suddenly turned back to me and said, "Johnny, I'm playing golf in the morning at ten--I understand you enjoy the game, as well. Would you care to join me?"
A surprised smile spread across my lips, I answered: "I'd love to--see you there at ten!"
I am an introvert; I have a difficult time thinking of things to say when I first meet someone. Out of nervousness, I tend to make odd statements that make us both feel ridiculously uncomfortable. My father, who is the exact opposite once told me: "When you can't think of anything to say, ask them a question about themselves--everyone loves talking about themselves."
The next day I followed his advice on the golf course with Rique. It worked for a short while, but suddenly, Rique did the same with me. I thought he was just following the same advice, but it soon dawned on me that he was sincere--he really wanted to know about my life.
I relaxed. I was open and honest and we learned about one another and joked and laughed all the way around the golf course. It was a fantastic day! By the time we finished, I probably knew more about Rique than I knew about anyone else in my life; and Rique definitely knew more about me than I'd ever revealed to anyone else.
That night at work Chuckie came to me and snarled, "Well, I hope you're happy--there are real queers here who want to be `Rique's girl'--I heard you guys were laughing and carrying-on all day! Just what are you trying to do?" He stormed off in a hissy-fit.
The problem with a small community like ours is that you knew everyone's business--and they knew yours.
The next few nights I met Rique at the pub after work. We became the champion foosball team--we were unbeatable. Rique, Mark, Jamie and I would sit at the table and laugh and talk about everything. I felt like I was evolving from a suspicious, solitary man into a real person; one that could speak freely with others, and actually be interested in what others had to say. I was at ease with myself--I was discovering `peace of mind'.
One night as I unlocked the front door to my cabin, Bear yelled, "GET OUT!"
"Bear, I'm tired--where the hell am I supposed to go?"
"I don't care--come back in two hours!" he said. I heard Chuckie giggling in the dark. I slept in my car.
The following night there weren't many people in the pub. Rique and I squashed the few people that dared play foosball with us, and when there were no more takers, Rique and I shot pool. It was friendly, but we are both competitive people. I'd win, he'd win; it went back-and-forth like that. Finally, he said he'd had enough--that he'd see me at the golf course in the morning. We said our goodbyes and when he left, I saw Jamie sitting at a table by himself so I joined him.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" I thought he was objecting to me sitting next to him.
"With Rique--what are you doing with Rique? You haven't told him you're not gay, have you?" I'd never seen such a serious expression on his face.
"Well, no..." I answered.
"Outside of work, you guys are together all the time...golfing every day--here at night. What is going on in your mind?" He was genuinely concerned.
The million-dollar question. Until Jamie asked me that I hadn't given it a moments' thought.
"We're friends," I said. Suddenly the joy and exhilaration I felt earlier being with Rique disappeared; I felt alone again. "He's the best friend I've ever had in my life," I admitted.
"John...I probably shouldn't even be saying this...he talks about you all the time...he really--REALLY likes you, if you know what I mean."
Jamie's words had an impact on me that no other words had ever had in my entire life. I felt exhilaration again, and at the same time deeply troubled. I knew what he meant--I knew now that I had a hard choice to make. I knew that the rest of my life could come down to this decision. I realized that this was about Rique's happiness. Was I being selfish for wanting him as my friend, but nothing else?
Jamie saw the sadness on my face: "John, look...we all like you here," he smiled, "...well, everybody except Chuckie (we laughed)...even when you worked here before everyone liked you. You're a damn good guy...you treat everyone with respect and we love you for that...we just wish you could get over your low self esteem issues...maybe I've been wrong all these years...maybe--just maybe you ARE gay...you didn't have a girlfriend the last time you were here--you don't have one now...I don't know how you feel about guys--I can't tell you what you should do...that has to come from you--you have to feel it on the inside...I gotta go--see you tomorrow."
I remained stoic until he left then tears welled in my eyes. I fought them back so no one else would notice. I left the pub and went home. Luckily, Chucky and Bear weren't there. I lay awake a long time.
The strangest thing to me was that if I'd met Rique anywhere else but here--I would never even consider that he was gay.
On the golf course the next day, Rique noticed I was more subdued than usual.
"Something wrong today, my friend? Is that asshole roommate of yours bothering you again?"
"No...no it's not him...I'm just trying to figure something out, I guess," I said softly.
"Johnny, if there is anything at all I can do for you--let me know, okay?"
"Okay," I said. I had to turn my head so he wouldn't see the teardrop rolling down my cheek.
I almost didn't go to the pub after work. This isn't fair to Rique, I thought. He deserves someone who can give him total happiness--not just a golfing buddy. Suddenly, I was overcome with a strong urge to see him so I said, "Screw it!" and went to the pub after all.
He was sitting with Jamie and Mark--Bear and Chucky were at the next table. I bought a round for our table and sat down. Riques' eyes lit up when he saw me. I smiled at him--he smiled back.
He and I played foosball against the second best team there--we kicked-ass. I began to feel better; the conversation at our table was lively and stimulating. At the other table, Chuckie and Bear were making fools out of themselves. Chuckie was sitting on Bears' lap and they were making-out like drunken fools. They finally got up to leave and Bear came over to our table.
"Don't come home tonight," he slurred in my direction, "...don't come home at all--I don't want you there anymore!" and they stumbled out of the pub.
After a moment of stunned silence I said: "Wow! I guess it's true--there really is someone out there for everybody!"
We all laughed.
Jamie and Mark awkwardly mentioned ideas of where I could spend the night. I nodded and said, "Maybe...maybe..."
Suddenly Rique leaned over and whispered in my ear: "Johnny, I'd be honored if you stayed in my cabin tonight--you can have the bed--I will use a sleeping bag."
I coughed to clear my throat and whispered back at him: "Thank you for your generous offer--I accept!"
Apparently our whispers were overheard by Jamie who gave me a puzzled look. I smiled at him--he didn't know what to make of it.
We all finished our drinks and left the pub. Jamie and Mark turned one way and went to their cabin; Rique and I went the other direction to his. My hands trembled, and my heart was pounding so loud in my chest I thought Rique could hear it.
He unlocked the door, opened it and said, "After you, my friend."
We took off our shoes when we entered, a common practice where we lived so as not to track the desert onto the carpeting. I remembered the cabin from when we cleaned it; Rique had added his personal touch and the place was unlike anything I'd seen here. It was elegant yet comfortable.
"Would you care for a glass of wine, my friend?" Rique asked.
"Yes...that would be nice," I said. My nerves were still on edge, maybe the wine would calm them.
I sat on the edge of the big bed and he brought me a crystal wine glass filled half-way with red wine. I tasted it and smiled.
"This is very good--what is it?" I asked.
"The name is `Flores Malbec'...it is from the Mendoza region of my country," he answered, "...it is made with the finest grapes in Argentina."
We sipped the wine and, I guess to ease the awkwardness of the situation, we talked about our golf game earlier that day. We finished the wine--it was getting late. He said he had a pair of pajamas I could wear to bed.
"I, ah...I like to sleep in my underwear, if that's all right with you?" I asked.
He smiled and said, "Yes, that will be fine--so do I."
I didn't hesitate--I stripped off my polo shirt and shorts and stood before him in my powder-blue, string bikini briefs. He smiled and stripped to his boxer shorts. My God he has a magnificent body, I thought. He reached for his sleeping bag and I stopped him.
"Why don't we talk about this..." I said, and sat on the bed and motioned for him to join me.
He sat beside me with a furrowed brow. I took a deep breath and put my arm around his back, and a hand on his upper thigh. His skin was smooth as silk.
I looked down and saw he had an erection straining against the front of his boxers. I caressed his thigh and stared into his deep blue eyes. For a moment we gazed at each other, then the same impulse overcame us--we moved our faces closer and our lips met for the very first time. His lips were warm and soft. It was a lingering, gentle kiss.
The electricity from his hot lips gave me an erection. My hands couldn't help themselves--they freely caressed his back, his shoulders, his chest and his thighs. I decided it was now or never--I firmly grasped his erection through the material of his boxers. The look on his face was of astonishment and wonder. His expression was priceless--I knew I had done the right thing and there was no turning back now.
I reached inside his boxers and stroked his cock. Our kisses grew more passionate--we pressed our lips together; our tongues exploring each other. I tugged at the waistband of his boxers; he lifted his hips to help me pull them down to his ankles.
I gasped when I saw his hard penis. It was seven inches long, an inch-and-a-half around, and bronze in color. A sculptor could not have created a more beautiful piece of art than Rique's cock.
I looked into Rique's eyes and said, "Show me how you like to be touched."
He groaned and took my small hand in his and guided it to his cock. He liked to be caressed with the palm of my hand and fingers sliding from the tip of his cock downward to his balls and back up again. He was hairless down there. The smoothness of his flesh made my cock throb inside my briefs. His balls were heavy; I loved the feel of them in my hand.
I couldn't take my eyes off his cock as I caressed him. A voice in my head said "Kiss it" and I leaned over and pressed my lips to his cockhead. The manly aroma of his pre-cum filled my nostrils--it was wonderful. I licked his pre-cum and tasted it--it drove me wild with desire.
I went to my knees between his open legs. I couldn't stop myself--I didn't want to stop myself. I held his heavy balls in my right hand and grasped the shaft of his cock with the other. I kissed and licked his cock just as I had caressed it--from the tip all the way down to his balls.
"OOhhhhh Johnny..." he moaned. Sounds of pleasure came from his open lips.
I wet my lips and placed them over his cockhead. My tongue danced on his hot flesh. His throbbing cock in my mouth excited me beyond belief. Nothing in my experience had ever filled me with this much desire and passion. I wanted desperately for him to cum in my mouth. I wouldn't be complete without the taste of his cum in my mouth.
My lips slid up-and-down his cock; my hands stroked his shaft and massaged his balls. I looked up and saw his eyes were closed, his mouth open and his head rolling from side-to-side. I increased the tempo of my mouth and hand on his pulsating cock.
Faster-and-faster I stroked his shaft; my tongue caressed his cockhead as my lips, slick with pre-cum, slid up-and-down his magnificent cock. I felt his balls contract in my hand; his cock grew even larger in my mouth. I positioned my tongue on his cock-slit and when the first stream of his hot cum spurted from his slit, it shot directly on my lapping tongue. I stroked his cock faster as huge amounts of cum burst from his balls. I swallowed load-after-load of his indescribably delicious cum. The sounds of his ecstasy filled the room.
Hearing him scream his pleasure pushed me over the top: my balls exploded and I came in waves inside my briefs. When the magic of our orgasms faded, and Rique lay back gasping for air to catch his breath, I buried my face in his crotch and used my lips and tongue to clean his cock and balls of the cum that had escaped my sucking mouth.
In my entire life, I had never been so aroused and then sexually satisfied as I was now.
"Oh Johnny...Oh Johnny..." was all he could say.
I excused myself and went to the bathroom and peeled off my cum-soaked briefs. I cleaned myself and returned to Rique; I stood naked before him.
"I guess," I said, "...I'll have to sleep naked tonight."
He smiled and said, "I wasn't honest earlier, I like to sleep in the nude."
"Good," I replied with a wry grin on my face, "...because I would insist on it!"
That night was the beginning of the rest of my life. We held each other close; we kissed and caressed one another. I couldn't keep my hands off him. When I fondled him to another erection, I climbed between his legs, kissed and licked his cock, took his balls into my mouth, and then sucked him to another explosive orgasm. I fell asleep with my head on his chest and his arm around my shoulders and the wonderful taste of his cum in my mouth.
When I awoke the next morning, Rique was gazing at me and stroking my chest. I smiled and we kissed. My hand automatically went to his cock. His erection was rock-hard, and without a word being said, I knelt between his legs and made love to his beautiful penis.
We showered together. In between kisses, we soaped each others' bodies--we giggled like school girls. We were drying ourselves when there was a knocking on the front door. Rique wrapped a towel around his gorgeous body and answered the door. I could hear Chuckie's whiney, faggotty voice from the bathroom.
"Ooohhh, Hi Rique...tell Johnny I packed his clothes and all his stuff is lying in front of Bears cabin," he giggled as he walked away.
Rique must have nodded because I never heard him speak. We dressed and walked to the cabin to retrieve my belongings; there wasn't a question anymore of where I would be staying.
As we approached I saw my things in a neat pile, but then I saw what was on top--the red nylon panties were on display for all the world to see. I'm sure Bears intention was to humiliate me, and it worked. I quickly scooped them up and stuffed them in my pocket. I was too embarrassed to even look at Rique. Between the two of us, we were able to carry everything back to his cabin.
As we found room for my things, I felt too ashamed to say anything.
Finally Rique said, "Johnny, I have always had a fondness for a pretty man like yourself wearing women's lingerie--would you wear them for me?"
I sheepishly examined his face: no trace of a smile or smirk--he seemed genuinely sincere.
"I, ah...I...I actually never wore them...I used them to masturbate," I admitted to him.
"Well, I would love to see you wearing them," he said with a twinkle in his eyes.
I pulled the panties out of my pocket and hesitated, Rique, to encourage me I guess, stripped to his boxers and sat on the bed. The compassion on Rique's face was my motivation.
I took a deep breath and took off my clothes. I stepped into the panties and pulled them up to my waist. Rique laughed and when I looked down so did I: they were probably four sizes too big for me and the elastic waistband was the only thing holding them in place.
"Johnny, sit here," Rique said and he motioned for me to sit on his lap.
He put his arm around me and said: "Johnny, you should never feel embarrassed or ashamed when you find something in this godforsaken world that gives you pleasure. Life is very difficult! Think about all the work, the struggles, the emotional and physical aches and pains you endure--and for what? You struggle to survive just for a few minutes of fun and pleasure? If you live according to what other people find acceptable, or what they think of you--you will never find true happiness in your lifetime. Your life will be nothing more than a series of empty and meaningless days, weeks and years."
Tears overflowed from my eyes and down my cheeks. I threw my arms around Rique and held him tight. He kissed my tears away then our lips met. Everything seemed so clear to me now. It was as though my mind had been lost in a heavy layer of fog all these years and it finally lifted. I finally understood what I needed in life to make me happy.
I kissed Rique and looked deep into his eyes. "I want to be your `girl'," I said softly.
"What?" he asked in surprise.
"I want you to teach me how to be your `girl'", I asked, almost pleading.
He looked at me a long time; I could see he was thinking this through.
"No, Johnny..." he said and my heart sank. "...I don't want you to be my girl'--I want you to be my man'...I want to share the things we like as two men'...I want to go places and do things with you as two men'...I think we can live a wonderful life together as two men'," then he smiled and added, "...yes, in the bedroom you will be my girl'--`my chica'."
My heart leapt with unbelievable happiness as we kissed. He stroked my chest and thighs. He pinched and rolled my nipples. My cock became rigid inside my panties. He caressed my cock through the nylon material. Our lips and tongues melded together with true passion. His hand moved faster on my cock. I groaned into his mouth. He pulled my nipples and stroked my cock.
He bit my earlobe and I felt his hot breath in my ear, "Cum for me, chica--cum in your panties for Rique."
I held him tight as my balls exploded and I soaked my panties and his hand with my cum. He milked my cock until my balls were empty. My heart was pounding and my pulse-rate was off the charts. This was no ordinary orgasm--it was `the best' orgasm! It was an orgasm of incredible depth and feeling. I had never-ever felt this close to another human being.
I gazed into his eyes and said, "I love you, Rique."
He held my head in his strong hands and said, "I love you too, Johnny."
I felt his hard cock pressing against my bottom. I coaxed him into lying back on the bed and lay on top of him. We kissed; my hands caressing his smooth, taut flesh. I kissed and licked my way down his body. I pulled off his boxers and knelt between his legs.
This is where I belong, I admitted to myself. I loved kneeling between his legs and giving him pleasure.
I teased his cock and balls with my hands and mouth. I pushed his legs back until his beautiful brown anus was inches from my lips. I kissed his anus and my tongue explored his perineum. I curled my tongue and pushed it into his asshole. His groans of desire filled my ears and made me deliriously happy.
When I finally took his cock into my mouth his hips were already bucking wildly on the bed. Nothing except giving him pleasure mattered to me. My lips and tongue moved frantically up-and-down his cock. I stroked his shaft faster. When my finger massaged his perineum and rubbed against his anus his whole body convulsed and thrashed about on the bed. He erupted like a volcano. I greedily swallowed his cum and milked his cock to get every drop out of him. When he had been drained, I lay beside his panting and heaving body.
"OOhhhh, chica...chica..." he moaned.
We were like newlyweds the next few days. We couldn't get enough of each other. We didn't play golf or go to the pub after work. Instead, we stayed home and gave each other fabulous orgasms. In the back of my mind, however, I knew something was missing.
One night as I was walking home from work I ran into Bear. He leered at me and smirked, "Not queer, huh?" then with a menacing look on his face he said, "I'll see you at `The Debutante Ball'--oh God I'm looking forward to that!"
When I asked Rique what was `The Debutante Ball', I saw him blush for the first time and he mumbled something about it not being important.
The next day Jamie knocked on our door and he was holding three large clothes boxes. Rique took the boxes from him and Jamie smiled at me and said, "I hope they fit--I guessed at your size."
Then he handed me a shopping bag, I knew he and Mark were going to the city so I had asked him to get me something.
As he was leaving, he smiled and said, "Have fun boys!"
I laid the shopping bag in the closet. I was curious as to what was in the boxes.
Rique smiled and said, "Look inside, chica."
The first box was packed tight with panties. Lace panties, nylon panties, sheer diaphanous panties. I blushed, but I was thrilled and excited.
The second box contained sheer and sexy baby doll nighties and teddies. I held one up against my body and Rique groaned, "Ooohhhh... sexy!"
The last box had garter belts and nylon stockings. I grinned at Rique and said, "Why you gorgeous pervert!"
He smiled and said, "I wasn't lying when I said I loved to see a pretty man in lingerie...chica, I want you to wear panties for me from now on." I immediately gathered up my cotton briefs and threw them in the trash.
Rique had me strip and model the panties for him. For whatever reason, my cock didn't get as excited when I wore the lace panties so Rique decided I'd wear the lace panties during the day. I smiled and said, "Fine with me."
Jamie had chosen the right size, and by the time I tried on the last pair of panties, my cock was aching for release. Rique had me sit on his lap and he stroked my cock through the sheer material of the pink, diaphanous panties. My eyes rolled back into my head as I filled my new panties with cum.
I was so happy with the gifts that I sucked two loads of cum out of Rique's cock before we left for work.
After work we decided to go to the pub. We hadn't been there in a week and we missed seeing some of the guys. The four of us sat at our usual table and when Mark and Rique went to shoot pool I leaned over to Jamie and asked him: "What is `The Debutante Ball'?"
His face turned red and he averted his eyes from mine. "Ah...it's just a silly party we have here sometimes..." I could see he wasn't going to tell me more so I changed the subject.
The next day Rique and I would be off work so I asked Jamie if he could keep Rique busy for a couple hours.
"Sure, no problem--I'll have Mark ask him to play tennis...what's up?" he asked.
I smiled and softly said, "Oh, I just want to give him a surprise."
The next morning when Rique left the cabin I stripped, grabbed the shopping bag from the closet and went into the bathroom.
I found the liquid laxative in the bag and swallowed a cupful. While I waited, I took the hair removal gel out of the bag and read the instructions. The laxative worked quickly. When I was finished I climbed into the tub and applied the gel to my body. It stung a little when I rubbed it onto my more `sensitive' areas. I waited fifteen minutes then turned on the shower and washed myself. I was amazed at the amount of hair on the bottom of the tub.
After I cleaned myself, and the tub, I applied lubricant to a soft rubber tube and spread my legs. It was difficult at first, but I finally concentrated hard enough to push the tube inside me. When I was satisfied my rectum was thoroughly lubricated, I went to the closet and chose the outfit I wanted to wear. I dressed and waited for Rique's return.
When I heard his key in the lock I stood near the bed with my hands on my hips. Rique entered the room, looked at me and his jaw dropped wide open.
"Ay, caramba, chica!" was all he could say. A huge smile spread across his handsome face.
I had decided to wear all white: a thigh-high baby doll nighty, sheer, diaphanous panties, a lacy garter belt and nylon stockings. My raging hard-on was clearly visible through the see-thru panties.
He came to me and we embraced and kissed.
"Oohh chica--you're beautiful..."
I reached down and caressed his growing cock into a full erection. He said he wanted to shower first--I said, "Rique, I want you now!" and I pulled off his polo shirt and dropped to my knees and stripped him naked.
I lovingly stroked and licked his cock until he was quivering with desire. I stood up, hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and wriggled my hips and pulled them down and off.
I embraced him and whispered in his ear, "Rique, I want to feel you inside me--I want you to fuck me."
"OOhh chica--are you sure?" he asked softly.
"Rique, I want to bend over for you--my bottomhole is lubricated--I need to feel your cock inside me!" my small voice pleaded.
I faced the bed and bent over until my head and shoulders rested on the mattress. I spread my legs wide, and reached behind me and pulled apart my bottomcheeks. I exposed my lubricated anus to his view. I heard him groan.
"Oh chica...oh chica...oh chica..." he repeated as he stood behind me and pressed his cock against my bottom.
I took his cock in my hand and guided his mushroom-shaped cockhead to my anus. I pushed my hips backwards and felt his cockhead ever-so-slightly enter me. I pushed back further and the head popped through my opening. I winced in pain but was determined to have his cock inside me.
He grabbed my hips and slowly pulled me onto his cock. I could feel every vein and nuance of his cock as inch-by-inch he pushed into me. I shook my head from side-to-side fighting the pain.
Finally he exclaimed, "OOoooo Johnny--I'm all the way in--Oohhh baby--Oohhh chica!"
He gave me a few seconds to get accustomed to his seven inch cock in my ass. I relaxed my sphincter as much as possible. I opened myself for him. The pain subsided and I moved my hips. He knew I was ready.
Slowly at first, he pulled is cock out then pushed it into me. He was moaning non-stop. My asshole became numb to the fucking. Soon he sawed his cock in-and-out of me. I knew he was straining to cum. He began to fuck me faster with longer and harder strokes. When his cockhead bumped against my prostate I cried out.
The pain was gone. My own cock was stiff and throbbing. I met his forward thrusts by pushing back against him. His cockhead kept stimulating my prostate and my body responded. I was babbling incoherently as his cock drove me wild with pleasure.
"God this is wonderful!" I screamed out loud.
My words drove him crazy. He fucked me like a man possessed. His cock was now a battering ram. His strong hands pulled me onto his cock then he withdrew until just the tip was inside me. In-and-out---In-and-out---In-and-out...
We were animals now--sweat dripped off both of us. His cock drove me to a height of ecstasy I didn't know existed. My own cock ached for release. I could feel the cum churning in my balls. Suddenly Rique cried out; he fucked me harder as the cum shot out of his balls into my asshole. I could feel his scalding hot cum inside me. My balls exploded and my cock shot load-after-load of cum on the bedspread. I collapsed on the bed and Rique fell on top of me. We lay like that a long time gasping for air.
When we recovered, I felt his deflated cock slip from my anus and his cum oozing out of my asshole. I shook my head in wonderment--every orgasm I had with Rique just got better and better.
For the next day or so I had trouble sitting down. In the pub one night Jamie noticed and gave me a wink and a knowing smile.
I smiled back at him and asked, "Why didn't you tell me how great it felt to bend over for your man?"
He laughed, "It's a little secret every guy has to learn for himself."
When we resumed fucking, I insisted Rique show me all his favorite positions. He was only to gracious and happy to oblige. I found that one of my favorites was when he sat on the edge of the bed and I mounted his cock with my back to him. I had to work hard to push myself up-and-down his cock, but his hands were free and he used them to pinch my nipples and stroke my cock with my panties.
One night at work I was particularly happy and everyone noticed. Chuckie came up to me and said, "OOooooo Johnny--looks like you're ready for `The Debutante Ball'!"
"Just what the hell is everyone talking about? What is `The Debutante Ball'?" I demanded.
"You really don't know, do you?" he sneered at me.
"No, I don't!"
His face was inches from mine and he almost spit the words at me, "Well, sweetie, every year for the last five years, when Rique has his new girl trained'--he'll have a coming out' party for her. He'll dress her in her finest silk and lace and present her as his new girl' at The Debutante Ball'...she will proceed to get on her knees and suck his cock in front of everyone--then the fun really begins--he will have her suck the cocks of all the `tops' who are there!"
"You're joking," I said.
"No, sweetie, I am not...and Bear and I are really looking forward to it this year. I'm gonna make sure Bear doesn't have sex for a few days before so he will absolutely fill your belly full of his cum!" he laughed his evil laugh, "...you'll have the taste of his cum in your mouth for two weeks--then you'll know what I go through every day!"
The spiteful bitch stomped off and left me standing there dumbfounded.
Rique's not like that--he wouldn't hurt a fly. Rique's kind and gentle--he wouldn't do that to me, would he? I'd never heard him say one cross word to anybody. I wondered over-and-over again for the next few days.
I became sullen and withdrawn. I would only make perfunctory comments to Rique and Jamie when they asked what was wrong with me. I contemplated packing my car and getting as far away from there as I could. When Rique wanted to make love I'd just say, "No, not now."
What was I thinking? I scolded myself. People don't change--they've always been assholes and they'll always be assholes! All con men have to do is smile nicely, tell you things you want to hear, and then they'll fuck you over every time and you won't even know it until they're out of your life. How gullible and stupid can one person be, John?
Business was so slow one night the boss let me go early and I went straight to the pub. I sat at the bar and ordered Jack Daniels on-the-rocks. Friends stopped by to say `hi' but I ignored them. As far as I was concerned, the night belonged to me and my good buddy Jack.
By the time Rique, Jamie and Mark got there, I was well on my way to oblivion.
"Johnny--Johnny--are you okay?" it was Rique, "... I've been so worried about you--what is wrong? What is it? I can help you--please let me help you!"
He placed his hand on my shoulder and I angrily pushed it away.
"GET AWAY FROM ME," I screamed. Stunned, the three of them sat at a table.
I ordered another drink but Susie the bartender wouldn't serve me. I grumbled below my breath; slowly, methodically I inched my way off the bar stool. I saw where the front door was and aimed myself at it. On the way, I had to pass `their' table. I stopped and stared at Rique.
I finally said, "So Rique...when's The Debutante Ball this year? Next week? The week after? Or haven't I been properly `trained' yet?"
Marks' eyes bugged-out; a look of sheer horror overtook Jamie's face; Rique buried his face in his hands and shook his head from side-to-side. I stumbled out of the pub.
After a false start, I got my bearings and walked to my car. I fell hard on the gravel and tore a hole on the knee of my good work pants. When I made it to my car, I fumbled in my pocket for the keys.
"FUCK'EM ALL," I shouted at the heavens.
I unlocked the car door and slid behind the wheel. I had to get out of there and I had to do it now! I had trouble putting the key in the ignition--I couldn't find the ignition.
"GOD DAMNIT," I screamed.
The keys fell to the floorboard. I bumped my head on the steering wheel when I bent down to find the keys--it hurt. Where are the fucking keys? WHERE ARE THE FUCKING KEYS???
I sat back in the seat. I began to cry then I fell asleep. I dreamed Rique and I were making love under the stars on the cool, damp grass of the golf course.
When I awoke the sun was shining in my eyes. Startled, I looked around and figured out where I was. I guessed it was about nine in the morning. My head was throbbing. I sat there wondering what to do. I remembered the keys and found them next to my foot on the floorboard.
I opened the door and with great effort, climbed out of the car. Something caught the corner of my eye. I looked down near the rear of the car: Rique was sitting, leaning against the car, sleeping. My heart skipped a beat. He always looked so angelic and peaceful when he slept.
I slammed the car door shut and Rique bumped his head when he awoke.
He sprang to his feet. "Johnny...please, Johnny--let me explain--I'm so sorry--come home and let me explain!"
"I heard all about `The Debutante Ball', Rique...how could you do that to someone?" I felt numb.
"Please--I am not proud of that--I was not a good person--I am a different person now--you have made me a different person!" he said, "...I love you, Johnny--I don't want to lose you--I need you, Johnny...without you I'd be lost..."
I thought I saw tears in his eyes. His voice was quivering; his hands trembled. He looked and acted like a regular person now--not `Rique the Latin Lover'. He was Rique, my best friend and the man I loved more than anything or anyone in the world. I went with him to our cabin to listen to him--I owed him that much.
We sat on the edge of the bed; he wouldn't look at me when he spoke. He talked softly and I strained to hear him.
"I was eighteen when I knew I was gay...much earlier than that I knew I was different'--it wasn't anything sexual--I just preferred to be around boys than girls...I never had a romantic crush on any of the girls I knew, but there were some boys I really, really liked, but growing up with four brothers and a stern, machismo' father--I knew right-off I could never admit my feelings to anyone...in my family being a mariquita' was unacceptable--you were a man and you chased after putas', and that was it! ...I concentrated hard on sports to try and fit in with the other boys--maybe it took time to be interested in girls!"
His words were halting; this was extremely hard for him to talk about; I held his hand and he weakly smiled at me.
"My best friend was Pablo, we knew each other forever...Pablo wasn't a flaming faggot, but we both knew he was different...when I tried hard at sports to make friends with the other athletes, they all seemed so shallow and stupid that I always ended up hanging out with Pablo--he was smart, funny and he saw the world differently than everyone else...one night Pablo and I drank too much wine...I was tired and allowed him to give me a massage...before I knew what was happening he was on his knees with my penis in his mouth--it felt so right' I didn't stop him...our relationship changed and it was then I discovered I was a top'...we were both ashamed but we couldn't help ourselves--my brother, Javier, caught us one night--my father beat the crap out of me--no son of his was a faggot-period!"
I wiped a single tear drop from Rique's cheek.
"From then on my family made my life hell--even my mother, and that hurt the worst of all! Pablo was forbidden to come to our house and I have never seen him since...my older sister was the only person I could talk with--she took me aside and told me I needed to leave there--I should go to America...she continues to support me with money and understanding...when I got here I thought I could change--I tried dating girls--I had sex with girls--I didn't like it--I hated myself...I found the gay clubs and picked up pretty boys--they all seemed so faggotty I treated them like shit--I used them and threw them aside...I have been doing that until I met you--you have taught me something I never knew--`respect' for other people--you can be who you are, and you can respect other people for who they are...Johnny, I will never dis-respect you--that debutante ball bullshit never entered my mind with you."
He looked at me with love on his face, "I don't want to share you with anyone else--I want you all for myself!"
We held each other tightly. We kissed and I undressed him and satisfied his beautiful cock with my mouth.
Later, after dark, we walked hand-in-hand to the golf course, undressed each other, and made love under the stars on the cool, damp grass.
The Debutante Ball
By B.J. Michaels