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The Joggers
Brent Harwood was born Benjamin Harem. He was in his early thirties, exceptionally handsome (some described him as a pretty boy), rich and famous. He was the star of many big budget action movies, and he was recognizable by just about any human being on earth. Even though he was out and proud, his female fans didn't seem to care. They still swooned over him, and longed for him. Likewise, his gay male fans.
Brent was in New York filming scenes for a new thriller he was starring in. Early every evening after shooting, he rushed back to his suite in The Mandarin Oriental Hotel on Columbus Circle. He would strip quickly, put on a sweat suit and sneakers, and head out for a run. He had to keep himself fit and muscular to remain an action hero, and a matinee idol, for as long as possible. He also lifted weights several times a week. His schedule often forced him to skip the weight lifting, but he never would skip jogging, even if he had to run in place.
He had no place in his sweat suit for his cell phone, so he just carried it in his palm while he ran. On a beautiful, balmy Friday evening, he headed west towards the jogging path along the Hudson River, and once there, he picked up his pace.
Bill Harrison was born William Harrison. He was in his early thirties, exceptionally handsome, rich, but not famous. He was not out, and he was not proud. In fact, he was in the closet. Bill was a high powered, highly stressed stock broker. He often spent entire nights in his office, when something good or bad was happening in the foreign markets. He had a great reputation for making his rich clients richer, but he had no time for movies or TV, and so he was one of the few people in the free world who never heard of Brent Harwood.
To relieve his stress, whenever he could find the time, Bill jogged along the Hudson River. This fateful evening, he was jogging in the opposite direction from Brent. They were within a few yards of each other when Brent's cell phone rang. Foolishly he answered it, and lost his focus on the jogging path. Before either man knew what had hit them, Brent slammed into Bill. Bill saw it coming, but he didn't have enough time to sidestep and prevent the accident.
Brent lost his footing, but somehow he was able to remain standing. Unfortunately, Bill fell to the ground, and he fell hard. Brent had not yet answered his phone, and he never did. He helped Bill up off the ground and kept apologizing profusely. Bill was angry at first, but he took one look at the hunk who was helping him up, and his gay heart not only forgave the oaf, but it fell in lust with him. He had no idea he was a famous movie star.
"It's my fault entirely," Brent repeated over and over. "I am so sorry. Are you all right?"
"I don't know. Let me walk around a bit and see if anything is broken." There was a bench nearby, and Bill limped toward it. Brent followed. Bill had fallen on his side, and Brent could see abrasions on his right arm and leg. Bill was only wearing a tee shirt and shorts.
"We should wash those abrasions and put on an antiseptic," Brent said. "My hotel is not far away. Please come back with me, and we'll take care of it. Your shorts are ripped also. I insist on replacing them. Tomorrow I'll take you to get a new pair."
At this point, Bill's lust was kicking into high gear. He would have followed Brent anywhere, but he said, "I live right around the corner. You really don't have to come with me. I can tend to it all by myself."
"I insist on going with you. I'm responsible for the accident, and I'm not leaving you until I make sure that you're okay."
Bill pretended to accept Brent's offer reluctantly, but the truth was that he was elated. He got even happier, when Brent said to him, "Please let me take you out to dinner tonight. It's the least I can do."
"You don't have to feel obligated," Bill said, still acting very aloof, as if he weren't dying to drag Brent into bed with him.
"I insist, and I won't take no for an answer. When we get to your apartment, I'll make reservations at Time Warner Center. It's near my hotel, so you clean up, dress up, and come back to my hotel, so I can do the same."
"I guess you won't be happy until I say yes, so yes." Bill stuck out his hand. He smiled at Brent, who nearly swooned, when he saw that smile. Then he stuck out his hand for Brent to shake.
"Formally, I'm William Harrison," he said, "but please call me Bill."
"It's a pleasure, Bill," Brent said, and he took Bill's hand. They both held on, neither letting go, and they grinned sheepishly at each other.
Finally, Brent said, "You haven't told me your name. I can't call you `hey you' all evening.
It was obvious to Brent that Bill had no idea who he was. He found that refreshing. Without hesitation, he said, "Well, I'm Benjamin Harem on all my legal documents." He felt good that he didn't have to lie. "But please, call me Ben." All the while they were still holding hands.
"Nice apartment you have here," Ben said as they entered into Bill's spacious two-bedroom apartment. It was obvious that Bill had plenty of money, and for some reason that made Ben happy. This man seemed to like him for who he was, without knowing how much money he had, and without knowing how famous he was.
In the meantime, Bill was agonizing over what to do next. Should he ask Ben into his bathroom to help him wash and dress the wounds, or should he ask him to wait in the living room, until he attended to his wounds himself, and got dressed for dinner? Ben made the decision for him.
"Let me wash the abrasions for you, and apply an antiseptic. Do you have Neosporin or something like it?"
"Yes, in the bathroom." Bill started toward his bedroom and Ben followed him like a dog in heat. Bill was getting aroused, and wasn't sure how to handle the situation, because pretty soon Ben would be handling him, and his erection would only get harder. Not only would it get harder, but Ben would have to notice.
Ben was in no better shape. He tried to diffuse his own lust, but his cock wouldn't behave. It was burgeoning against his warm-up suit, trying to break out.
In the bathroom, Ben had Bill sit down on the commode, and he filled the sink with soapy water. He put a wash cloth in the sink, and soaked it in the water. He rung out the excess water and started to dab the wounds on Bill's arm. He was very gentle, and poor Bill felt like he was going to cum any second. When he was done washing the arm, Ben dabbed it with a dry towel and applied Neosporin to the affected areas. He followed up, by doing Bill's torso and leg where he had bruises from the fall.
Bill thought that was it, but Ben said, "Drop your shorts. You may have bruised yourself on your hips and butt where your shorts tore. Let me check and see if anything needs attending to."
By now Bill was beside himself. He cried out in agony, "Ben, I'm gay, and I have the biggest fucking hardon you ever saw. It needs attending to badly. Can you really bear to see me that way?"
Ben dropped his pants, and his jock strap. His seven inch cut boner sprang out, right in front of Bill's nose. "You're not alone," he said. He knew that he portrayed a very macho image on screen. It was his movie persona, and he figured that Bill thought he was straight. "I'm gay too," he said. "I am so hot for you that every bone in my body aches, not only my boner."
Bill stood up, and dropped his shorts and jock strap. His cut, seven-and-a-half-inch erection sprang forth. Ben wanted to take that cock into him immediately, but he restrained himself long enough to determine that Bill had no more abrasions. Once satisfied, he dropped to his knees, and kissed the tip of Bill's cock. It was flowing pre-cum, and Ben licked it all up, but Bill stopped him.
"Not this way; not slam bang," he said. "Take me out to dinner like you promised, and after dinner we'll go back to your hotel. It's closer to the restaurant than my place, and we'll make love properly."
Ben smiled to himself. Bill said that they would make love, not have sex. He basked in the difference.
The restaurant was very "in" right now, and many celebrities dined there. Ben hadn't thought of that when he made their reservation. He was sure to be recognized, and Bill would know that he kind of lied about his name. He panicked, but if he was exposed at the restaurant, he vowed to tell Bill the truth. He could tell that Bill was wealthy, and Ben reassured himself that Bill would not be put off by his own wealth and celebrity. Ben would have stopped worrying if he knew that some of Bill's clients were as famous as he was.
Another thing Ben hadn't counted on was the paparazzi. The restaurant was full of celebrities, and the photographers were swarming the front entrance. Ben was out, and he didn't care if he was seen with a handsome companion. He let them take pictures of Bill and him going into the restaurant. They were seated immediately, and Ben was grateful that the maître d' addressed him as "sir," and not by name.
He looked up to see a famous stage actress approaching their table. He figured that this was the moment of truth, but much to his surprise, she went over to Bill, and kissed him on the cheek.
"What are you doing here, Bill darling? I thought you were a 24/7 workaholic. I never expected you to have a social life." Then, she finally addressed Ben. "You have no idea what a catch this guy is. Don't let him get away," she said wagging a finger at Ben.
"I know how special he is," he told the actress, avoiding calling her by name. He was relieved that nobody used names so far, and there was no way for Bill to have figured out that the two actors knew each other. Because of that, he was the one to ask the questions, especially when he spotted a famous fashion designer waving at Bill, and not at him.
"Who the hell are you?" Ben asked. He laughed when he asked, so Bill would know that he had no animosity.
"I'm a nobody, a stockbroker, but many of the celebrities in this room are clients of mine. I've made them lots of money."
Ben nodded knowingly and relaxed. So far nobody had approached him, but he knew it would happen. Just as their appetizer was served, Ben saw The New York Times movie critic approaching their table. The critic, John Farraday, had never been kind to Ben, and referred to him as a hack actor. Ben was no longer afraid of discovery. Now he was downright angry. How dare this bastard approach his table with a smile on his face.
Before John could say anything, Ben asked, "Are you sure you want to be seen with a hack actor like me?"
"Brent," John cooed, "get over yourself. "It's my job to be critical. Nobody takes me seriously. Believe me, I never think of myself as being in a worthy profession."
Ben relaxed a little and shook John's hand.
"Besides," John purred, "I didn't come to say hello to you. I want to meet this eye candy you're with." He ran his tongue over his lower lip. Introductions were made, and the critic started to leave the table. As he was on his way, he gave Bill a lascivious look, and said, "I hope we'll see you here again, Bill." Bill gave him a smile which said, "A lot of good that will do you."
He turned to Ben and said, "Okay buster. Now it's your turn to come clean. Who the fuck are you? John called you Brent."
"Well, I was going to come clean after we made love. I didn't want to scare you away?"
Bill took Ben's hand. Nothing could scare me away. I wouldn't care if you were the Pope. I'd still desire you."
"I don't think the Pope has sex."
"Well, you know what I mean. I've fallen in love with you, and so long as you aren't a serial killer, I'm holding on to you. Well, so tell me who the fuck you are."
"My professional name is Brent Harwood. I'm an actor."
"That's fine, but you aren't just a penny-ante actor, when the movie critic of a major newspaper calls you by name. Are you a leading actor?"
"Yes," he answered, "and frankly my ego is deflated because you don't know who I am. That has never happened to me; not since I starred in my first movie."
"Don't be deflated," Bill reassured Ben, "I never go to the movies or watch TV. I've got a lot of clients who are on the stage here in New York, but so far I don't have anyone from tinsel town."
"I guess I'll be your first."
"That would be nice, but it isn't necessary. I'm not so much interested in your bank account, as what falls between your legs."
Ben squeezed Bill's hand. "Please sweetheart," he said. "The food here is to die for. Let's go slow, and savor every mouthful. We have all night to make love. Tomorrow is Saturday, and I'm not in a shoot. Maybe you usually work 24/7, but you are taking tomorrow off. Is that all right with you?"
Bill just smiled and they squeezed their hands even tighter.
"What do I call you?" Bill asked. "Ben or Brent?"
"Everyone calls me Brent, but you're special. Please call me Ben. That name is dearer to my heart."
When they entered, Ben's hotel suite, they fell into each other's arms, and started groping at their clothing. Suddenly Ben pulled away.
"There's something we have to discuss before we make love," Ben said.
"Oh God!" Bill cried out. "You're healthy aren't you?"
"Yes, I am. Just hush up and listen to me. I'm out of the closet, Bill. Everybody knows it. I want to be proud to be seen in public with you, but if you stay in the closet, we'll have to lie about our relationship. I could tell people that our relationship is purely business; that you are my financial advisor, but that's a lie. I came out so that I didn't have to live a lie anymore. Can you come out for my sake?"
"I have a reason to be out now," Bill said. "I want to be with you, to laugh with you, to cry with you, and I don't give a shit what anybody thinks."
"I must warn you that I get some hate mail from the homophobes out there who think they are Christians. They are no different than Muslim extremists. It might happen to you."
"Well, fuck the bigots. Together we can defy them."
"Okay, but I'd rather fuck you than a bigot."
Bill smiled and he was undressed in a nano-second with Ben right behind him. When they were naked, they fell into each other's arms. They crushed their hard cocks together, and just stood still in one place dry humping one another. Before they knew what happened, they both came. They laughed at themselves. "Well, we're off to a sloppy start," Ben said.
"Let's remedy that by taking a shower together," Bill suggested.
Ben grabbed Bill by his cock and led him into the bathroom. He turned on the spigots in the shower, and while he was waiting for his ideal water temperature, he kissed Bill passionately. Bill returned his kisses with matching passion.
When they stepped into the shower, they soaped each other alternately and generously. They soaped their cocks especially, stroking lightly with a feather like touch. They were both surprised that they got hard so soon after an ejaculation. It brought out a smile on both their faces.
Ben, the actor, became dramatic. He looked into Bill's eyes, and said, "It's true what they say."
"What's true?" Bill asked.
Sex is more wonderful with the one you love than a mere fuck buddy.
"You love me?" Bill asked.
"I thought I had made that clear."
"Well show me. Fuck me." Bill faced the shower wall, and stuck out his butt. He reached behind, and pulled his ass cheeks aside. His ass was so bubbly, he wanted to make sure that Ben could find his way to the target. Ben soaped his cock even more, and positioned himself for entry. He pushed in as gently as he could.
Bill was hurting, but once Ben was all the way in, and hugging him tightly, the pain began to wane. Ben just wrapped himself around Bill, and didn't move a muscle until Bill said, "Please."
Ben began to pump Bill's ass. He had just cum, and Bill hoped that this would be a long fuck, and maybe Ben wouldn't cum at all. Then Bill started to whimper.
"I'm cumming," he moaned. His ass started to constrict around Ben's love tool, and the two men came together. They groaned, and moaned, and screamed loud enough to be heard in Hoboken.
When finally, Ben's cock slipped out of Bill's ass, they kissed for what seemed forever, as the water cascaded down their bodies, and cleansed them. When they calmed down, both of them kept murmuring in the other's ear, "I love you." They were both exhausted and fell fast asleep.
They made love all weekend. Their cell phones kept ringing, and by mutual agreement they shut them off. It wasn't until Sunday evening, that they came back to reality.
"I'll need to get home," Bill said, "and get ready for work tomorrow."
"A limo is going to pick me up at 7AM in the morning to take me to tomorrow's shoot," Ben said sadly. "Isn't it a shame we both have to work?"
"Will you go jogging with me tomorrow evening, and then let me treat you to dinner?" Bill asked plaintively.
"You betcha," Ben answered. "While we're jogging," he added, "I wouldn't mind if you knocked me over. The consequences of such an accident are absolutely wonderful."
Bill started to dress to go home, and while doing that he said, "Ben, I love you. Please let's figure out a way that we can be together."
"I spend most of my time between Los Angeles and New York. I own a condo in The Hollywood Hills, and I was thinking of buying one in New York."
"No need. When you are here, I want you to stay with me. Here's the funny thing. I've been thinking of opening an office in L.A. to snare some of you La-La-Land people as clients. All my clients, no matter how far away, are as close as their telephones these days. We can even see our faces now as we speak. I could be in L.A. when you are, and we can be together in New York when you are here."
Ben's grin was so wide, Bill was afraid he would break his jaw. "Occasionally I have to shoot at some distant location," Ben reminded Bill.
"I can live with that. All married couples face occasional separations for business reasons."
Finally, Bill was ready to leave. He was so handsome in the suit he wore to dinner the previous Friday night, that Ben couldn't stand it. He grabbed hold of his lover, and whimpered.
"It's only until tomorrow night," Bill reminded Ben.
"I know, but why don't you wear these clothes to work tomorrow, and spend the night with me. I've got a razor and a toothbrush for you, and if there is anything else you need, I'll call room service."
"Jeez! I'd love to do that so much, but only on one condition."
"Anything."
"Check out of this suite, and move into my apartment with me. We agreed I'd stay in your condo when I'm in L.A., and you would stay with me. Why wait until I open my west coast office? Why not start right away?"
"Of course, I will. I'll start packing tonight. Tomorrow, I'll hire someone to move my stuff over." That having been said, Ben began to cry.
Bill enveloped him in his arms. "What's wrong my darling?"
"Nothing. I always thought that I led a full life, but until I literally ran into you, I didn't realize how deluded I was. Even the sex I had with an occasional fuck buddy was so clandestine, that I couldn't fully enjoy it. Oh Bill, you make me so happy. You have filled all the empty spaces in my life, and it happened so fast."
"Yes, it was fast indeed. Do you believe in fate, darling? I never did until Friday evening, when I got pummeled over by my soul mate. In just a few hours I have fallen head over heels in love with you. I just know in my heart that it was pre-ordained."
"Okay," Ben said, "enough of this maudlin shit. You promised me that it was your turn to take me to dinner, so let's get going."
"Would you like to go someplace where we are not apt to run into paparazzi?"
"You bet," Ben answered, sounding really enthusiastic; just as if they were entering into a conspiracy.
"I've lived in Manhattan my whole life," Bill said, "and there are so many wonderful restaurants tucked away in out of the way places. I'll take you to my favorite. It's just one street away from Herald Square. The cuisine is Hungarian, if that's okay with you."
"It's perfect. Let's go, and when we get back, we'll have another night of love."
"And another night, and another night, and another night, forever and a day," Bill smiled at Ben, and kissed him. Then they went to their first meal as a committed couple. Both their brains remained totally boggled, but both their hearts were immensely happy.