The Neighborhood

The Colonel

by Amber Fountaine

Jim almost ran through the airport concourse. He wasn't moving all that fast, but in his mind it was still reminiscent of the old commercials with O.J. Simpson, from back in Simpson's better days. Almost ran; but not quite. With airport security like it is today he thought that might be a VERY bad move. This was one time when wearing a diaper would have been a very good idea, but who would have thought a man his age, barely past fifty, might need one.

The problem had been caused initially by the extra cups of coffee he'd had back at the Cincinnati airport and then added to by security regulations on the plane after they'd taken off. He'd been seated almost in the middle of the plane and every time he'd gotten up to use either the front or rear restroom, someone had beaten him to it. Because of the new security regulations, he wasn't allowed to stand in the aisle and wait his turn and had to return to his seat each time. And since he had a window seat assignment and had two people to crawl over every time he got up, making them madder with each wasted effort, he'd finally given up and decided to hold it.

A LONG forty-five minutes later, when he finally made it to the Men's room near the baggage claim area, there was almost an orgasmic pleasure in finally releasing his bladder. It felt to Jim like he peed a full five minutes without a letup before his flow slowed to the point where he began to pay any attention to his surroundings, noticing at last that the walls were tile and thinking how considerate that someone had thought to design the place with a ledge over the urinals where passengers like him could set their briefcases in front of them as he had done. As his eyes swept an increasingly larger area around him, he noticed another man had taken the urinal that was two to his right. His need had been so great that Jim couldn't swear if the man had been there when he'd rushed in or had come in afterward. He'd been focused on getting his sticky zipper undone from the moment he'd walked through the door. While trying to remember, and without any intention to stare in his direction, Jim did just that; looking at the man while he pondered the meaningless question of the man's arrival time.

Suddenly, Jim realized he was staring at the man's cock, being waved or shaken or whatever. He quickly looked away, but the image of that prick in the man's hand was burned in his mind's eye. He was looking at the wall again, but he could still see that cock in detail; the color, size, shape, the fullness of the swollen head, even the length of the clean and manicured fingernails that had been holding it. He took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind. When the image began to fade and he heard the man flush the urinal, he thought it was safe to glance back over in that direction. He was surprised to find that the man was still standing there, had turned slightly toward him, and had his hands on his hips, his cock hanging out of his fly - and he was smiling at Jim!

"Going out?" the man asked with a grin as lascivious as any Jim had ever seen, "Or coming in?"

It was a standard question of conversation that Jim had been asked several times in his travels through airport terminals across the country. Usually it was asked by a fellow traveler at the terminal bar. NEVER had he been asked in a men's room by a man with his cock exposed and – maybe it was just his imagination – with an unusual stress on the word, `coming'.

With those thoughts in mind, Jim had almost answered, "Coming," since he was in fact coming in, but thinking that was way too easily misinterpreted, instead replied, "I live here." Then nervously he'd added, not wanting to make the man think he resided in a Men's restroom, "Here in this town I mean."

The stranger nodded and then smiled broadly at Jim. Then he nodded at the briefcase Jim had set on the ledge. "Good cover. I assumed you were a passenger." Then he moved to stand at the urinal that had separated them. "I'll be here all week at the `Airport Marriott' if you're interested." As he was saying it, he pulled a business card out of his shirt pocket to hand to Jim.

Automatically, like he'd done so many times in more business like situations, forgetting where he was and what he was doing, Jim let go of his now drained prick to take the man's card. But when he did that, the man deftly took Jim's wrist in his hand and placed Jim's hand on his still exposed cock. Without thinking, Jim closed his fingers around the strange man's semi-stiff prick.

There were a hundred thoughts and sensations assaulting Jim's brain. He'd never been in a situation like this. He was fifty-one years old and had never, not even in his teens, touched any cock but his own. He was happily married with two grown kids and had a wife waiting at home that tolerated his perversions only because he was completely straight and their sex life had been a high point of their marriage. He was a retired military officer and his sexual orientation had never been questioned. Yet when the man released Jim's wrist and slipped his business card in Jim's shirt pocket, Jim kept his hand in place on the stranger's cock, enjoying the strange and erotic thrill of fondling another man's prick, feeling it swell in his hand.

"You really want it," the man said softly. "I thought I could tell that from the look in your eyes."

Jim jerked his hand back, as though suddenly aware that it wasn't his prick in his hand and stammered, "No, I . . . uh, I . . . I'm . . ."

The man winked. "I understand. I noticed the ring. That's cool. I love meeting guys like you. Call my hotel after I get checked in." Then after wedging his semi-still prick back in his pants, he zipped up and began to head for the door, pausing once to smile and say, "Cute panties," and then he was gone.

Jim stood there with his mouth open, the words of denial finally formed but unused. He looked down and realized the panties he'd worn for the flight home must have been visible to the man the whole time Jim had been pissing. In his haste, he'd undone his pants, used his left hand to pull the lacy waistband of the panties out and down, and used his right hand to aim his cock. Jim thought of the irony of his wearing those particular pants. He had well over a dozen pair of slacks, had taken three with him on this trip, and fatefully, the only one that had a difficult zipper just happened to be the pair he'd worn for the flight home. He'd had to undo his belt and the waist button to get the zipper started and it had resulted in him exposing his panties. Between the feminine, pastel color, the lacy waistband, and the decorative little bows across the front, even Mr. Magoo could have seen that Jim was wearing panties.

There was something else Jim noticed too. At sometime during his brief encounter with the stranger, Jim's cock had swollen and was nearly fully hard. "Damn," he muttered to himself, the word echoing off the tile walls. The reverberation seemed to snap him out of his daydream. For the first time Jim seemed to be aware of where he was and that it was a public restroom in a busy airport terminal. He glanced around to see if anyone else might have witnessed the exchange between the two men, especially if they'd seen Jim with his hand on the man's cock, and he breathed a deep sigh of relief when he discovered there was no one else in the restroom.

Then he began to reflect on what had happened in the last couple of minutes. Between his unintentional staring - at least he thought it was unintentional - and the man having seen Jim's panties, it was no wonder he'd concluded Jim was interested. But then, why had he let the stranger entice him into fondling the other man's cock? He hadn't twisted Jim's arm or forced him in any way to take hold of it. His hand had willing grasped that cock, and worse, began stroking it without any urging on the man's part.

Putting his hand back on his cock as he thought, he was tempted to stroke it, adding to the forbidden excitement of the last few minutes. He might have given into that temptation if he hadn't heard someone open the door and glanced over to see an Airport Security officer stroll in, look around, and after nodding in Jim's direction, leave again. That was all the incentive Jim needed to get the hell out of there. Stepping to the sinks, he intended to wash his hands quickly, but possibly out of a sense of guilt, he washed his hands more vigorously than he could ever remember, as if using enough soap and water would cleanse both his hands and his memory of what had just happened.

"Keep it or throw it away?" Mindy asked.

Jim's mind had never moved far from the earlier incident at the airport, no matter how hard he tried. He had to turn in his wife's direction to see what she was asking him about.

In their twenty-seven years of marriage, Mindy had learned most if not all of her husband's habits and idiosyncrasies. Beginning back in the last few years of his Army days, he almost always carried a leather business card case in his left pants pocket and when he got a business card he wanted to keep, he put it in a slot in that case behind his own business cards. However, if he took one as a polite gesture, one he didn't need to retain for any reason, he put it in his other pants pocket or shirt or jacket pocket to be discarded later. But there had been an occasional exception and she always asked; just in case.

Another habit of twenty-four years was that he threw his clothes on the bed when he changed and Mindy had been standing there, talking about his trip and his visit with his sister when he'd tossed his shirt on the bed. Automatically, as she'd done so often, again going back to his years in the Army, she picked up the shirt, undoing any buttons on the sleeves and collar, and checking the pockets before putting it with the clothes for the cleaners. She was holding up the business card she'd found in his shirt pocket, waiting for his decision.

He'd completely forgotten that the younger man from the airport restroom had put that card in his pocket. The feel of that cock in his hand had pretty much blocked out any other input to his brain. He was about to tell her to throw it away, when she glanced at it and her eyes got big.

"I'll be damned! Where'd you meet him?"

Now Jim was totally off balance. He knew the card had to be the one from the stranger, but for some reason Mindy seemed to recognize the name. "Him who?" he asked turning away to continue undressing, not wanting her to see his face.

"Darrell McCain. Was he on the plane with you?"

"Darrell McCain," Jim repeated. He'd heard that name somewhere, but he didn't know where.

"The golfer," Mindy explained. "My boss is playing with him in the pro-am this week. Didn't you know who he was?"

"Still don't to tell you the truth." Jim's only experience with golf had been years back on a Putt-Putt course when he'd been in high school. When he'd been stationed at the Pentagon, several of the men in his office played golf, but he'd had no desire to join them. The blank look on his face wasn't an act.

Mindy explained. "The Open is here this week. It say's right here on his card that he's a member of the PGA. Are you telling me you talked to this guy and never knew he was a professional golfer?"

Jim shrugged. "I don't guess it ever came up. It was a pretty short conversation." Jim smiled to himself. At least that part was true.

By then, Jim had his shoes off and was stepping out of his slacks, getting a wolf whistle from Mindy when she noticed his panties. "I hope Tommy and Carla weren't watching you get dressed," she teased. She knew Jim didn't often get a chance to get to the Cincinnati area and when he did, would take advantage of it to visit with his sister and brother-in-law for a day or two. As a result Jim was getting in from his trip on a Monday, instead of coming home last Friday night or Saturday, when he'd finished with his work. "Good thing today's a holiday," she said, putting the card on the dresser and stepping close to him. "Or I'd be at work and you might have had to take care of this yourself."

Before he could begin to wonder what she meant, he felt her hand on the front of his panties, rubbing the stiffening prick beneath the bows and lace. She didn't seem at all surprised that he'd be hard since she knew wearing panties usually had that affect on him. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she was as horny as he was, but for totally different reasons, of that he was certain. While he'd missed her for sure, his dick had never gotten completely soft since leaving the airport men's room.

"If you're not too tired," she whispered in his ear, "I could really use some of Jamie's lesbian lovemaking."

Jim smiled, recalling when Mindy hadn't felt that way at all. In fact, they almost hadn't gotten married because of it.

"That is so GROSS!" is what he recalled Mindy's words were when he and Mindy had gotten a little snockered with his sister and her husband Tommy a few weeks before Jim and Mindy's wedding. His big sister had been married two years at the time, was five months pregnant, and like every other subject, considered herself to be an expert on married life. Tom and Carla had invited Jim and Mindy to have dinner with them and as the after-dinner drinks grew stronger, the stories grew longer and more revealing. Eventually, before Jim could hustle Mindy out of there, his sister had started revealing secrets about, "my little sister, Jamie." Those were secrets that Jim had never planned to tell Mindy about and he could have killed Carla on the spot.

Jim loved his big sister, but it seemed to him that all his life she'd found ways to needle him. The fetishes and perversions he enjoyed today, so many years later, had been born in Jim's misguided efforts to get back at his sister. While they seemed stupid now, at the time they'd made sense to him.

He'd been around twelve or thirteen when his dog had gotten out of the yard and run over by a car. He'd cried about Mitzie for a week and Carla had teased him about being a baby. She'd continued the teasing for weeks after he'd stopped crying. Then a chance discovery of some old diaper pins had given him the bright idea to make a diaper out of some bath towels and tell his sister that he wasn't going to stop wearing them until she stopped calling him a baby. In retrospect, that had seemed completely backward, but at the time, it had made some sort of sense to him. School had been out for the summer and he'd figured, using adolescent logic, that if she was going to call him a baby, he'd embarrass her and her friends by running around dressed in diapers. Instead, she'd told him to go ahead and wear them; that he was proving to her he really was a baby and that he should pee in them while he was at it.

There'd been nothing in Jim's plans that had called for him to actually use the diapers in any way. He'd had no intention of wetting his diaper, but her taunting gave him the resolve to do it. That had led to his discovery that he really liked the feeling of wearing and wetting a diaper! He didn't know why, but it had given him a sexual stimulation as well. It had taken his parent's intervention, and a butt that glowed in the dark, to get him to stop.

With that experience behind him, he should have known better - when a few years later she began teasing him about being a sissy - that taking her lingerie and dressing up in it was not the way to decrease the ridicule. Neither of them could remember what had happened that had caused Carla to tease Jim about being a sissy. But she had and about the time that Jim was getting upset about it, he'd spotted some of Carla's things in the bathroom and had put them on. In Carla's eyes, seeing her brother in lingerie was proof he was a sissy, just like she'd said. Then to the surprise of everyone concerned, when Carla and her best friend actually encouraged Jim to continue to dress like a sissy, he discovered he liked the role and so did she. In fact, since she was filling out rapidly and outgrowing things that were still almost new, she began handing down her clothing to her `little sister Jamie' and Jamie began having a ball wearing it, dressing as a girl with Carla's help whenever they were home alone. What he'd enjoyed the very most was in his bedroom at night when he could wear a bra and panties and a nightgown to bed and masturbate.

Even after he'd gotten older and no longer enjoyed running around the house in her clothes, he'd still loved to jack his cock while dressed in lingerie. His sister had been sure that's what he'd been doing, but back when they'd been in their teens, had never said anything. However her timing was less than perfect when she'd given her opinion, about her little brother jacking off in his panties, that evening after their pre-wedding dinner. It had almost ended the marriage before it began.

Carla's revelation about Jamie' had almost been the final straw. Mindy had already been having second thoughts about marrying an ROTC cadet that had a military obligation coming up after he graduated from college. Where Jim had been a military brat, used to calling a new place home every few years, Mindy had lived in the same house every day of her life until she'd gone off to college. Jim's major had been business and accounting and his intention had been to become a CPA, either in a large accounting firm or with a local corporation, after his military obligation was over. While Mindy hadn't been so keen on the Army part of his plans, Jim explained the positive - that there was the fact that he wouldn't have any student loans to pay back like so many of their classmates, and unless he happened to draw an unaccompanied tour, she could look at it as an adventure. So with some trepidation on her part, they'd agreed to marry during spring break of their senior year and then his sister had dropped the Jamie' bombshell on them.

"He was so cute, running around in his little wet diapers – so wet they were almost falling off," Carla had told them, giggling. Then, when she couldn't get any more play on that subject, she'd told them, "Even better was when he started dressing up in my clothes. I wish I had some pictures. He was adorable dressed as Jamie." Then she'd asked Mindy, "Is he going to borrow some of your panties to wear at the wedding or should I loan him some of mine? Better yet, I'd better just give him a pair. I know he'll jack off in them like he used to do every night at home."

Mindy had tried to smile and laugh her way through the teasing, but had insisted they had to leave much sooner than Jim had known they did. He hadn't been too surprised when Mindy had jumped him about `Jamie' as soon as they'd gotten in the car and waved goodbye.

"Do you still do that?" she'd wanted to know. "ANY of it? At ALL?" When Jim had tried to assure her that he'd outgrown it all years ago, she must not have believed him, because she'd asked again, almost daily. After each reassurance from him that he no longer wore diapers or lingerie, nor did he intend to ever again wear diapers or lingerie, she'd said, "Good. I could NEVER live with a pervert that did that. It's SO gross!"

Then to prove to him that he'd never understand the ways of a woman's mind, the night before the wedding she'd handed him a pair of her panties. "Here," she'd said. "Wear these tomorrow. I know you want to and if you're going to do it, I at least want them to be mine." Then she'd gone inside, leaving him standing on her doorstep with the panties in his hand – and a smile on his face.

One night, during their brief honeymoon, she'd had him wear the panties again and had put a nightgown on him. And when he'd gone down on her, she'd enjoyed it much more than she'd ever done during their courtship - although she'd said it was almost like having another girl do it and she thought that was gross too. Gross or not, it hadn't kept her from asking for an occasional visit to the bedroom from Jamie' several times a year. After the kids had grown and were gone, Jamie' became a regular part of their lovemaking. Mindy still proclaimed that in her opinion, homosexuality was gross, but since Jamie was really a man, and loved her like a man when she asked for it, she saw nothing wrong with their psuedo-lesbian lovemaking.

`Jamie' hadn't been the only thing she'd changed her mind about. By the end of his initial military obligation, they had one kid on the ground, another on the way, and a tour of Italy behind them and Mindy was pressuring him to stay for twenty. Instead, he'd stayed for twenty-five, acquired an MBA, and had become one of the most knowledgeable men on military contracting. He knew he'd never get a flag, and instead of joining a large military contractor like so many that retired from his position, he decided to freelance, becoming a consultant to the smaller contractors or wannabe contractors that couldn't afford a full time contracting specialist. It had been slow and rough going the first few years, but now Jim worked part-time with a full time income. Of course that meant fifty, sixty hours or more in some weeks, but then he might have a week or two off – sometimes more - to do as he pleased. An excellent example was his plans for the rest of the month. He was scheduled to fly out to Seattle around the end of the following week to work with a large contractor over the weekend which was highly unusual, and then he was free for at least another week. Until he left, he had no plans what-so-ever. If Mindy wanted him to spend some of the ten days dressed as Jamie, he was up for it, as evidenced by the bulge in his panties.

As they kissed and cuddled, Jamie worked his wife toward the bed, disrobing her on the way. When they were both down to just panties, she suddenly changed the subject again.

"We should invite him to dinner," she said, stepping out of her panties and using a hand on his shoulder to balance herself.

"Invite who?" he asked, afraid he already knew the answer.

"Your friend. Darrell McCain. Don't you think he'd enjoy a home-cooked meal instead of restaurant food? You always tell me the worst part of traveling is the food you eat and how you can't wait to get home and have me feed you. He must travel a lot more than you do and would feel the same way."

Many Army wives collected knick-knacks from the places they'd been. Mindy hadn't. Instead she'd collected recipes and could fix all of them and fix them well. Her cooking, and his inability to resist going back for seconds, was primarily responsible for his needing to workout in a gym for the last twenty years. So it wasn't the meal that concerned him. "He's not my friend," he reminded her. "I just sort of met the guy and he gave me his card."

"Well Sam is playing golf with him Wednesday and it would be SO great if we could have him to dinner on Tuesday night, and if he mentioned it to Sam the next day."

Jim knew what she had in mind immediately. The relationship between Mindy and her boss was one example of the reason Jim eschewed the corporate world, preferring to work for himself. With his two sources of income, and the kid's college paid for thanks to their grandparents, they really didn't need for Mindy to keep working. But she said she wasn't the `Garden Club' type and had to have something to do. He wanted her to quit and travel with him. She already typed up most of his proposals and summaries and he could write off her expenses as well as his. But she'd been with the same company eight years and liked her position. She just didn't happen to like her boss.

When Sam Lindsey had taken over for her former boss – who Mindy had worshiped – she'd thought Sam was okay. She'd even joked, since Jim had still been in the Army at the time, that they both worked for a guy named `Sam'. But within a year, her opinion of Sam had slipped from, "He's okay," to, "What an asshole!" Jim often thought that Mindy now lived for finding ways to needle her boss without him knowing it, or one-upping him and his egoist attitude.

The fact that Mindy's folks were filthy rich helped a lot and in more ways than the kid's education. When Sam had bragged to everyone at work about the new Lexus he'd just ordered, Mindy had asked her mom if she was tired of, "That old Maserati you hardly ever drive." The day before Sam was due to drive his new Lexus to work, the whole company was oohing and ahhing over Mindy's Maserati Quatroporto.

Jim was sure this business with Darrell McCain was the same thing. It appeared that Sam was looking forward, having paid through the nose for the privilege, to playing a round of golf with Darrell McCain so he could brag about it. If Mindy could get Darrell to come to dinner like he was an old friend, it would once again take all the wind out of Sam's sails. Since Jim didn't like Sam very much either, he sort of liked the idea and had it been any other golfer, would have been glad to do it. But after that incident at the airport with Darrell, he had to think better of it.

"We'll see," he told her without commitment, wanting to get his face between her legs before she thought up any more delays. It didn't work.

"If he gave you a card with a phone number on it, he must check that number for messages. Promise you'll try to get hold of him."

"Okay, I'll try," he promised, thinking maybe she'd given him an out. He reasoned that Darrell wouldn't have told him what hotel he'd be at if the number on the card was the better way to reach him and he really checked for messages that often. Jim concluded that if he called the number on the card, he'd probably get an answering machine that Darrell wouldn't check until the next time he was home. Or just as good, at least too late in the week for them to invite Darrell to dinner.

After many years of marriage, Mindy knew a stall when she heard it. "As soon as we're finished?" she asked. She'd spread her legs for him, but was holding him at arm's length, close enough for him to smell her heat, but too far for him to taste it.

"As soon as we're finished," he promised after giving it a moment's thought. If there was one thing they didn't do, it was rush sex. It wasn't unusual for either or both of them to fall asleep in the damp and rumpled sheets when they'd finally finished, too tired to consider anything as strenuous as a phone call. So with any luck, it would be tomorrow before he could make the call and by then, Darrell should be busy practicing golf or whatever golfers did, at whatever golf course the tournament was at, and even if he did check his messages tomorrow when he got back to his hotel, it would be too late to set something up for dinner tomorrow night. It wasn't a perfect plan, but it would have to do for the moment. All he had to do was make their lovemaking last as long as possible and that thought alone brought a smile to his face. Within minutes, he had Mindy smiling with pleasure too.

Unfortunately for Jim, he had either overestimated his stamina, under estimated Mindy's, or hadn't realized how important it was to her to one-up her boss Sam. Jim was plainly too exhausted to dial a phone, even if someone handed him one. But Mindy, after a quick trip to the bathroom, got the card off the dresser and brought both the card and phone to Jim. "Call him," she told Jim. "See if he'd like to come over for dinner tomorrow night."

Jim hesitated just long enough for Mindy to decide to dial for him, and then handed him the phone. Considering the hour, Jim was surprised when a woman answered that late, saying, "Darrell McCain's office." He hadn't taken into consideration that Darrell might use some sort of answering service to take his messages at all hours. Trapped, with a woman on the line waiting for Jim to explain why he'd called, and another sitting beside him, urging him to have Darrell call them ASAP, Jim told the woman on the phone the purpose of his call, explaining he'd met Darrell earlier in the day. Then with hopes that Darrell got dozens of calls like that - dinner invitations in every town on the pro golf tour - that his message would be ignored.

In another six months, when more people would have that number, it probably would have been. But again fate took a hand in the direction of Jim's life. The business cards were new, the phone service was new, and Jim's message for Darrell was the only one of the day. About an hour before Jim's call, Darrell had checked in for messages and had left his hotel phone number and room number with his new service. As soon as Jim had hung up, the service had called Darrell. And as soon as the service had hung up, Darrell called Jim.

To Jim, it seemed like he'd hardly hung up the phone when it rang. To Jim's way of thinking, middle age is when your parents are old enough, and your children still young enough, that a phone call after ten at night causes momentary panic. It wasn't quite that late yet, but he certainly didn't expect it to be Darrell.

Without any sort of hello' or how are you,' Darrell teased, "What's the matter? Forget which hotel I'm staying at?"

With Mindy still sitting beside him, Jim tried to make his side of the conversation sound very formal, almost business-like. On the other end, guessing that Jim's wife was listening, Darrell did the same until he had a chance to ask, "Can she hear what I'm saying?" When Jim told him, "No," Darrell began having fun at Jim's expense, saying things like, "Sure I'll come over. And I'll bring you something you'll love to eat." Then, when Jim couldn't think of something else to say, and Darrell had run out of risqué comments on his end, Darrell suggested it might be easier for Jim to pick him up at his hotel, rather than for him to get lost trying to find Jim's house.

Jim jumped on that idea; not that he was interested in going to Darrell's hotel. What appealed to him was that it would give him a chance to talk to Darrell without Mindy listening. "That sounds good to me," he told Darrell. "I have some running around to do tomorrow and one of the places I need to stop is near the airport. I'll pick you up on the way back home." Then they picked a time and Jim gave Darrell his cell phone number in case there were any changes.

The part about all the errands he had to run had been almost totally bogus. He did need to pick up a toner cartridge, but that was all. He just hadn't wanted Mindy to decide to take the afternoon off to ride with him.

By noon the next day, Jim was beginning to get nervous. Darrell had said he should be back at the hotel by three, would need to shower and change, and should be ready any time after four. He knew Mindy intended to work through lunch and leave around two or three. So to keep from wearing a path in the carpet, Jim decided to touch up his yard, as if it really needed it.

Back when Jim had been a shave-tail lieutenant, he and Mindy had been given base housing in a duplex that had either been unoccupied for a long time or neglected for a long time or both. For the first six months, he and Mindy worked at fixing and repairing the interior. When spring arrived, they were ready to work on the exterior. They managed to get the civilian workers at base housing to do some carpentry and painting and Jim, whose only previous experience with horticulture had been growing radishes for an elementary school science project, decided he was going to do the landscaping himself. He learned two things from that adventure. One, that he needed to learn a whole lot more about landscaping, and two, that he loved working in the yard.

He'd learned a lot by the time they were finished. The duplex had looked ten times better when they left for their next assignment, but compared to his current residence, it would have looked like an abandoned lot. One neighbor had teased Jim, telling him he didn't cut his yard, he manicured it. There was truth to that and a method to his madness. Jim had discovered that doing yard work was both relaxing and an excellent time to shut out the rest of the world and think. Some men claim to get their best ideas in the bathroom, either sitting on the throne or in the shower. One of Jim's friends liked to listen to classical music while stuck in traffic, doing his serious problem solving at that time; making notes to himself on a tape recorder. Jim's choice was his landscape. He was almost in a meditative state when he worked in the yard.

Yet however deep in thought he might be, or anti-social he might seem to anyone that approached him while he worked, he was still cognizant of the things around him. This meant he noticed – again – the strange activities between the two houses across the street. The first time had been a month or so back, when he'd been cutting his yard, had pushed the mower in back, and then decided to edge the front before starting on the back yard. Just as he'd been about to come out of the garage with the edger, he swore that he saw Paul, the man across the street, run from his house to the house next-door wearing what appeared to be a costume – a maid's dress with a very short skirt and stockings held up with garter straps. The man's wife, dressed somewhat sexy, but definitely not wearing a costume, had followed at a normal pace, and the two had waited on their neighbor's doorstep together for the woman on the corner to let them in. Jim had stood back, unnoticed in the garage's darker interior and had been certain of what he'd seen.

When he told Mindy - who was MUCH better informed on all the neighborhood gossip than Jim would ever be - about what he'd seen, she hadn't seemed that surprised. Nor had she been very forthcoming with any theories to explain what he'd seen. Which of course, left Jim to resort to speculation, and with a male's mind, he had the innate capability to immediately assume that there were some sort of sexual shenanigans behind it all.

Since that afternoon he'd become acutely aware of both houses. According to Mindy and her sources, the house on the corner belonged to a woman named Erin, a nurse that had been divorced a while back. She now shared the house with a girlfriend that had moved in with her. Jim had met her ex a few times, but hadn't gotten to know him other than to say hello. He knew that Mindy had talked with Erin a few times, but he assumed the difference in their ages had kept them from being any closer.

The house next-door to Erin's had belonged to a couple about their age that also had kids going off to college. Jim's oldest and their youngest had chosen the same college, so it had given the two something to talk about and he'd gotten to know that family a little better. He'd been the one to make the comment about Jim manicuring his yard. When they'd decided to sell their house and move to a smaller home on a bigger place in the country, Jim had been surprised when the house had been bought by a younger couple without kids. But he also realized that this was tract housing and everything was built with three or four bedrooms for average sized families. Couples without children got the extra bedrooms that came with the house whether they needed them or not. And again, according to Mindy and her sources, the guy, Paul `something', also worked mostly from home. Normally, that would have given Jim a chance to get to know Paul better, but when it came to yard work, Paul had just the opposite inclination. They hired a yard service to come by once a week. Jim seldom saw Paul or his wife out in their yard.

Since that one chance sighting, Jim hadn't seen Paul wearing anything like the dress he'd been so sure Paul had been wearing, although a few times, Paul appeared, even from a distance, to have on makeup and be dressed somewhat feminine. However one time, a short time back, he was sure he'd seen the woman that had to be Erin's new roommate lead Erin from her house to Paul and Kathy's by why of their backyard gates. What had caught Jim's attention that time had been that it appeared Erin was dressed like a baby girl and either she'd been packing on the weight and it had all settled in her hips, or she'd been wearing a very thick diaper.

Mindy had gotten quite a laugh when he'd told her about that one. She'd thought Jim had been letting his imagination get the best of him and explained that she'd seen Erin wear her hair with a pigtail over each ear and that it did make her look like a freckle-faced kid; especially if she was with her friend, who in comparison, was so much larger.

So as Jim worked, pulling out some annuals that would be replaced after he'd prepared the beds, he tried to concentrate on the houses across the street, and what might be happening there in an effort to clear his mind of concern about the coming evening. It didn't work. He was terrified that somehow, some way, either he or Darrell would give away what had happened in the airport men's room. He still found it hard to believe that he'd fondled another man's cock, let alone that he'd done it in a public place. But the undeniable truth was that he'd done it. And he'd gotten hard because of it. And he was getting hard again from thinking about it! And maybe, because of where his mind was focused at the moment, what he thought he saw across the street didn't really happen.

He'd finished pulling the fading annuals, had turned the beds, working in a slow release fertilizer, and had gone behind the hedge to turn on the water hose when he happened to see someone – he was sure it was Paul – come to the living room window, wearing what had to be panties and a bra, to pull the curtains closed. That would have been startling enough, but just as the curtains were closing, he'd been joined by Erin and her friend and he was sure that Erin was wearing a diaper again – and nothing else!

That brought Jim to two conclusions. The first was that he needed to find a good way to get to know the young man across the street. Maybe it was just his imagination, but it appeared the two might have something in common. His second conclusion also involved his imagination, or as Mindy would put it, his `over-active' imagination. Whenever he'd told her what he'd thought he'd seen the people across the street doing, she'd dismissed it, like he was indulging in wishful thinking instead of reporting the facts. So Jim concluded that until he knew more, he wasn't going to say a thing to Mindy about what he'd just seen.

However, that image of Paul in the window was part of the inspiration behind his choice of underwear when he got out of the shower – a very cold shower that hadn't been a lot of help. It would appear that unless he was loosing his mind, he wasn't the only male in the area that enjoyed the sensuality of wearing lingerie. And while he kept telling himself that he had no intention of getting into any situation where Darrell might see them, he couldn't help but remember Darrell's remark about Jim's panties being cute. With all those thoughts in mind, Jim selected an especially sexy and feminine pair of panties to wear under his slacks.

After stopping at the office supply store, Jim called Darrell to let him know he was on the way. But when he got to the hotel and called his room from the lobby, Darrell insisted Jim come up while he finished getting ready, explaining that he'd been delayed, having been involved with representatives from a golf club company that he endorsed. Jim had tried to beg off, saying he'd wait in the bar, but Darrell had insisted, telling Jim he had everything he might want to drink sitting there. Each of the pro players on the tour got a welcome basket and the bigger the name, the bigger the basket. Darrell had won one major tournament the previous year, had been in the top ten in winnings for the last four years, and that was good enough to be in the big basket group.

So with some misgiving, Jim knocked on Darrell's door, and when Darrell answered the knock wearing a towel, Jim's trepidation increased. When Darrell shut the door and dropped the towel, Jim knew he'd been right to be nervous.

"I haven't had a chance to get in the shower yet," Darrell told him, standing with one hand on his hip and a drink in his hand. "I was hoping you might want to join me."

"I . . . Just before I left the house . . . I took a shower."

Darrell laughed at Jim's response, sweeping his arm across the room. "I didn't mean in the shower. I've got just about anything you might have ordered at the bar, unless you wanted a lady's drink. What can I fix you?"

Darrell had said `basket' but Jim could see three of them. One was filled with fruit, another with an assortment of snacks, and the third, with big handles on each end, probably because of the weight, was filled with bottles of booze and wine. When Jim didn't see any beer, he thought that might be his out. If he asked for something that wasn't in the basket, he could still leave to wait in the hotel bar. "A beer would be fine," he answered.

"In the fridge," Darrell responded, "Behind the wet bar."

Jim looked at where Darrell pointed and saw the wet bar in the corner of the suite. Trapped, he wished he'd opted for something stronger. He got a beer from the small refrigerator, opened it, and took a good swallow. When he realized that might make him seem nervous, he told Darrell, "I was working in the yard all day and got thirstier than I thought."

"Not me. I live in a condo. I spend all day every day it isn't raining on grass and the last thing I want to do when I get home is have to spend time in the yard."

While Darrell's conversation was somewhat relaxing to Jim, Darrell's nudity wasn't. Jim decided that reminding Darrell that Jim had a wife and that Mindy was waiting on their arrival seemed like a good idea. "You haven't met my wife yet, but she's a stickler for punctuality. Dress casually and let's get going."

He was looking Darrell in the eye, straining to keep his eyes from glancing down. Then he turned his back on Darrell, as if inspecting the contents of one of the gift baskets, hoping that would be enough to urge Darrell into the shower by himself.

"I guess I'm as bad as you are when it comes to loosing phone numbers," Darrell said as he moved in behind Jim. "When I realized I'd be running late, I couldn't find the number you'd left me and tried to reach you at the number you'd left with my service. Your wife had just gotten home and we had a nice chat. I told her we'd be an hour or so late and she said to take our time. We have at least an hour to do whatever you want."

Jim was breathing deeply, as if the extra oxygen would help clear the thoughts in his head and the nervous dizziness those thoughts were causing. He couldn't help but wonder if maybe he'd intentionally created a situation that had put him in a hotel room with a naked man – an obviously horny and homosexual naked man. When Darrell put his hand on Jim's shoulder to turn him around, Jim damn neared jumped a foot in the air.

"She also told me that she was glad we'd met on the plane or at the airport. So I guess I had you figured all wrong. I was sure you were a local that trolled the airport restrooms looking for sex and that you were carrying that briefcase to make you look more like a traveler." When Jim resisted being turned, Darrell slid his hand off Jim's shoulder and down around his side, bringing the other hand up so that as he moved in to stand close behind Jim, he could use his hands to rub Jim's chest, using his thumbs to flick Jim's nipples through the knit shirt. "But I think now that you've never been with a man," he continued and then let one hand slide down to the front of Jim's pants. "You want to, though. Don't you?"

Jim didn't answer. Darrell was gently squeezing Jim's stiffening cock and that swelling said more than words. Jim was rooted in place, frozen by fear, his left hand dangling useless and his right gripping the half-full beer to keep from dropping it. When Darrell's hands began undoing his belt and pants, Jim stood unmoving, making no effort to stop Darrell, and at some point his mind concluded that he was beyond any place in time to prevent the inevitable; especially when his slacks dropped around his ankles and Darrell's hands began caressing Jim through the lacy panties. "I was hoping you'd wear something sexy for me," Darrell whispered.

Jim turned then, no longer denying his urges or the thought that he really had dressed in the sexy panties to please Darrell. If he was honest with himself, there was no other logical reason for him to have worn the feminine underwear other than to possibly please another man; in this case the one that was running his hands all over those pretty panties. Accepting the concept that he really did want to have a sexual experience with Darrell, and that Darrell had been wise enough to provide them with the time to do it, he gave in to his desire. Setting the beer on the counter, Jim followed Darrell's lead, using one hand to hold the other man's cock and the other to cradle his balls.

"That's my girl," Darrell whispered as Jim fondled his cock again. "You know you want that cock baby. Go for it."

Jim was taken back a moment when Darrell kissed him, but didn't resist when Darrell pushed on his shoulders. He dropped to both knees on the carpet and moved forward without any further urging on Darrell's part, guided entirely by the long denied fantasies in his mind. He'd never been this close to another man's cock and stared at it a moment, fascinated to see an erection up close. He wondered briefly if Mindy felt the same excitement when she had her mouth inches away from his cock. Thoughts of Mindy created a moment of guilt but when the cock before him began to twitch, those thought were quickly erased and replaced by pure lust.

Jim mimicked the quick kiss Darrell had given him, but instead of it being on the lips, Jim kissed the swollen cockhead, causing the bead of clear liquid that had formed there to disappear. Then the entire cockhead disappeared as Jim's lips parted and slid over it, not stopping until they were half way down the length of Darrell's rampant shaft. As Jim imitated all the things that Mindy did to make a blowjob feel good, and added a few more that came to him naturally, Darrell began to comment, hissing encouragement with things like, "Oh baby that's good," and, "Yes, suck that cock." At one point Darrell called him a "Cocksucker," and instead of being mad, Jim had proudly doubled his efforts.

While it was his first such experience, Jim was a man and knew that Darrell was getting very close to cumming. Many times he'd tasted his own cum and each time had wondered what it would be like to have another man cum in his mouth. So he was just short of tears when Darrell pulled away and denied him that experience.

Smiling, Darrell told him, "Don't worry baby. I'll let you have my cum. But I want to get a little taste of what's in those pretty panties first." Then he pushed Jim back across the bed and maneuvered into position to ease down the waist of Jim's panties and free the hard prick hidden there. Darrell licked the length of the underside of the swollen shaft and kissed the head before looking up at Jim to tell him, "There's a lot of pussy on the tour, but damn few of these. Everyone is so damn sure that we're all straight that the only cock we can get is from each other." Then Darrell's more practiced lips and tongue went to work giving Jim sensations he'd never felt before. Jim nearly lost it when Darrell gently mouthed his nut sack, something Mindy had never done, nor had Mindy ever eased a finger up Jim's ass as she sucked. When Darrell backed off, Jim's cock was twitching with each beat of Jim's heart.

Then Darrell moved up so that the cocks of the two men were touching and he could stroke both of them together with one hand. Like every other new sensation of the last few minutes, feeling another man's cock rubbing on his made Jim incredibly excited. So when Darrell, asked, "Ready for my cum now?" Jim enthusiastically replied that he was.

Darrell moved further up to straddle Jim's shoulders. His hands were pinned so he could use them to guide Darrell's prick to his mouth and had to rely on Darrell. Darrell decided to tease Jim a moment and instead of pushing his cock down to Jim's gapping mouth, rubbed it all over Jim's face before letting Jim engulf it. Then Darrell stroked the base as Jim sucked and slobbered over the head and sensitive underside and in moments, Darrell was releasing several days of spent up jism, noting that Jim's eyes were closed as he savored his first taste of another man's creamy sperm. Jim's inexperience was obvious as he continued to vigorously mouth the cock in his mouth and Darrell had to pull away. "Easy baby," he told Jim. "After a guy cums for you, just let his cock rest in your mouth while you enjoy his cum."

Then Darrell quit talking and moved back down to return the favor. In Jim's highly excited condition, it didn't take long at all for Darrell to have the opportunity to demonstrate the proper technique for post-cum pleasure, savoring the flavor of Jim's jism as he let Jim's spent prick slide gently from between his lips. Smacking his lips and licking them, he smiled up at Jim and told him, "Never met a man in panties that didn't have great tasting cum!"

Jim was too spent at the moment to question Darrell, but a few minutes later, accepting Darrell's invitation to join him in the shower, he asked, "You've met other men that wear panties?"

"Several," he conceded. "And some wear more than just panties. There's a guy I visit in San Antonio during the "Texas Open" each year that you'd never guess is a guy. He even comes out dressed as a woman to watch me play. He has to wear a panty girdle under his shorts and it's not just to hide his cock. That cute little ass of his gets pinched a lot!"

"No shit?" Jim muttered as they continued to take turns soaping each other. "I don't do that but I've often wondered if I could."

"I'm sure you could if you wanted. There was a picture in Sports Illustrated' last year of me standing with my Aunt and her friend in Dallas at the Byron Nelson.' The woman wasn't really my Aunt, and her friend was really her husband. He's your age and has no problem passing as a woman. You should hear some of the stories they've told me about when he goes to the `Lady's' room with her, or when they pick up a guy to share."

Many times in his life Jim had gotten sexually aroused thinking about sex with another man and always denied to himself that those thoughts had been the cause. Talking about sex with a man, in this case to a naked man, one that he was running his soapy hands all over had an even more dramatic effect. Less than five minutes after cumming in Darrell's mouth, Jim's cock was fully hard again. Of course Darrell noticed.

"Save that thought for later," he told Jim, giving Jim's cock a playful squeeze. "You're going to have to drive me home tonight. Remember?"

Jim did remember. He also remembered he had a wife that was expecting them and that thought cooled his ardor enough for them to finish their shower and get dressed without any more sex play. It wasn't until later, at Jim and Mindy's house and they were almost finished eating, that Mindy made a comment that allowed Darrell to bring the subject up again.

"I was sure you'd enjoy a home cooked meal," Mindy told him, not bothering to reveal that most of the dinner had been cooked by a local restaurant and picked up on her way home. "I'm sure it's dull and boring having to eat alone in restaurants all the time."

"Not at all," Darrell told her. "We're treated like celebrities. You'd be amazed at all the men and women that want to wine and dine us and take us to bed."

"Men too?" Mindy asked wide-eyed, glancing from Darrell to Jim.

Darrell laughed. "Not near as many as the women, but why not? What makes you think golfers are any different than the rest of the population? We're just not as open about it. We may play a lot of `Opens' but we've got a lot of guys in the closet. No sense in risking what we make from endorsements. You'd be amazed at the guys that are gay - one just got married at his agent's urging because of rumors - and several of us are bi."

Mindy was embarrassed and flustered and it showed, both by the redness of her cheeks and inability to speak coherently. "I . . . didn't . . . never meant . . . I hope . . . you don't . . ."

"Don't be so sure I don't," Darrell quipped. "Let's just make like the military. If you don't ask, I won't tell."

"No . . . I wouldn't . . ."

"Don't be so sure you wouldn't," Darrell continued. He was enjoying her discomfort and finally Jim dared to enter the conversation to save her further embarrassment.

"What she means, I think, is that she didn't mean to ask you about your sex life."

"Oh," Darrell said, feigning innocence. "Well usually, that's the first thing people want to know about."

Jim was sure Mindy would take the opportunity to change the subject and was surprised when instead she asked, "Does Jennifer know?"

Darrell gave her a blank stare for a moment, and then laughed. "Don't believe everything you read in the tabloids. Actually, don't believe a single damn thing you read in the tabloids."

Now it was Jim's turn to have a blank look on his face. "Jennifer?" he asked.

Darrell then explained how he'd been linked to a movie star in one of the tabloids, how the press had played it up, and how the starlet's publicist had kept it going to get her press coverage. "We happened to stay at the same resort," he began. "She was in Hawaii shooting a movie and I was in a tournament trying my damnedest to shoot birdies and make my fiancée happy and her suite was next to mine." Then he went on to explain how Heather, his fiancée had met Jennifer and the two had started talking and that she'd accepted an invitation to dinner for the both of them at a secluded restaurant. Jennifer told them she was slightly hoarse from shouting above the roar of the surf so every time Jennifer said something to Darrell, he'd moved close to hear her so she wouldn't have to speak very loud. The following week, a tabloid had a photo spread and story about how Jennifer had met her secret golf pro boyfriend for a cozy dinner and that to keep the public from knowing about their affair, they'd booked separate connecting suites at the same hotel. "The only thing Heather got upset about was that she got cropped out of all the pictures."

Mindy was still blushing but asked, "So you didn't . . ."

Darrell finished her question. "Have sex with Jennifer?" When Mindy nodded, he told her, "No. I didn't. But Heather did. Of course she didn't get mad about that part not being in the paper. And when the press checked with the hotel to see if we really had connecting suites, the hotel was almost proud to show them that we did."

Jim was sure she'd drop it but again he was wrong. Mindy had to ask, "You . . . you didn't mind? Your fiancée . . ."

"That Heather had sex with Jennifer? Of course not. I was a little bit pissed that I wasn't invited, but hey . . . she doesn't bitch when I get together with a guy and I don't share. I sure can't say anything about her being with someone and not getting to join in. Besides, most of the time we do share so I think a little variety is good."

Mindy was still embarrassed to be talking about it, but managed to comment, "I can't imagine Jim ever being like that," and then she finally began talking about the Pro-Am the next day and how Darrell would be playing in a four-some with her boss Sam and how it might be nice if Darrell would let it drop that he'd been their dinner guest the night before.

"I could spice it up a little if you like," Darrell offered. "I could tell him what a great hostess you are, and then hint that you were pretty damn good in bed too."

Mindy's coloring went from pink to bright red. "I . . . No . . . Oh God, please don't . . . I'd never . . . ."

"There you go with those `nevers' again," Darrell interrupted. "Never say never. You don't ever know for sure what you're capable of until you try. I had a motivation coach one time that used to tell me that and he also explained that it covered all aspects of my life. I guess he was right because he was the first man – the first grown man at least – that I had sex with."

Jim had begun to thoroughly enjoy Mindy's quandary until Darrell made it seem like he was the one holding them back. Darrell turned to him and said, "That goes for you too. If you're the one that's a tight ass, loosen up. You'll both enjoy it more. Don't try to tell me you've never at least thought about sex with another man. Every man has and most have tried it. They just don't like to let anyone know about it."

Jim suddenly began to get nervous that the next thing Darrell would be talking about was what had happened between the two of them. While he'd sworn secrecy in the car riding over from the hotel, Jim began to wonder if he'd keep his word. Almost rudely, he suggested Mindy serve dessert so that he could get Darrell back to his hotel at a reasonable hour.

Darrell misinterpreted Jim's actions. As soon as they were alone in the car heading back to Darrell's hotel, he said, "Never seen a guy in such a rush to get me in bed again."

Jim hoped the headlights of oncoming traffic didn't show that it was his turn to blush. "That wasn't the reason," he said, at the same time wondering if maybe it wasn't true after all. "I was afraid you'd let it slip about what we'd done."

"Why not tell her yourself?" Darrell suggested. "Couldn't you see how turned on she was getting just talking and thinking about it? You said she knows you like to wear panties. Don't you think she suspects you'd like to try sex with a man too? Maybe she won't come right out and suggest it. But I'd bet one of those giant tournament checks that she's thought about it. Ask her and see if I'm not right."

Although he promised to consider it, there was no way Jim could bring himself to ask Mindy about something like that. However when Darrell invited Jim up to his room for a repeat of their earlier tryst, Jim enthusiastically accepted.

He'd already come up with a good excuse for taking some extra time and was almost as giddy as a school girl thinking about being able to prance around in his panties for Darrell. He also hoped Darrell would give him an opportunity to try some of the techniques that Darrell had used earlier on him. For one thing, there'd been this little thing Darrell had done with his tongue while sucking at the same time that Mindy had never done and he was anxious to see if Darrell would enjoy it as much as he had when Darrell had demonstrated it.

Darrell did!

To be continued!