Sometime in the early seventies I began to check out some of the Manhattan gay bars. By the time I was 32 or 33yrs of age, I recognized and began to accept my bi-sexuality. I used free afternoons, and the occasional evening when I could get away, to drop in on a variety of bars, gradually narrowing it down to a couple that appealed.
For awhile I enjoyed a bar called "Brothers" on West 46th Street. There was a small friendly crowd that would begin to gather there each afternoon at 4pm. The bartender was a young blond muscle hunk who made sure that all the regulars knew each other. He had a small part in the Broadway musical "Hair," and entertained us with backstage stories about the cast.
I got into the practice of dropping into Brothers once a week or so, and one afternoon happened to sit near one of the regulars named Ed. Ed was a tall, thin, laid-back guy with a ready smile and friendly manner. We began talking, and hit it off. It was clear to both that the other was interested in more than casual conversation. After a few weeks of flirting, it was destined that we were headed for bed. Ed knew that I was married; I always wore my wedding ring. He was single, but had no prejudices against married men. It developed that he actually was living with someone, but they were "just friends." It seems that Ed and his roomie were romantically involved briefly in the past but were now just buddies.
"We do crawl into bed to snuggle now and again," he said, "but the heavy stuff is behind us."
Okay. I can believe that. Ed's roomie, John was one of the Brothers' regulars and I knew him slightly. According to Ed, John was following our romance closely at the bar, and was encouraging its progression. I remember being somewhat taken aback when Ed said that most of the regulars in the bar had been to bed with each other at one time or another. I was still new enough to the gay scene to be surprised and a bit shocked to hear this.
But I was definitely interested in having our relationship - mine and Ed's - move into Ed's bedroom. When the invitation for "dinner" came I was ready. A date about a week into the future was decided upon and we were to meet at the bar and travel together uptown to Ed's place.
Chilidog Dinner
Ed and I are riding uptown on a subway car making smalltalk on the way to his apartment. After what seems like a long trip, we finally arrive and walk the short distance to his place. A friendly cat greets us when we arrive. No sign of the roommate. Ed confides that he told John that he was entertaining and so John has made himself scarce for a few hours.
"Does John know that it's me you're entertaining?" "Oh, yeah; he can't wait to hear the details."
"Well, I hope the whole bar won't be hearing the details."
Nervous laughter.
During this exchange Ed has busied himself in the kitchen, clattering pots and pans. I walk into the kitchen to join him after having a look around the living room. He and John have some pictures and interesting things lying around. There is a bicycle in the hallway, and a huge silk screened type abstract print on the wall behind it..
"By the way, what do you do?" I ask. "I mean, what kind of work do you do." Ed becomes quiet and looks a bit uncomfortable.
"Well, I'm a writer, sort-of." "Oh, what kind of writing? Who do you work for?"
"Oh, oh, nothing like that. I just write. I mean I write for myself. I'm hoping to write a
novel."
"I see, that's exciting. I always loved writing. I mean English class and all that."
"Yeah, but you see, actually I'm a messenger. Like, to pay the bills."
"That's fine," I soothe. I understand now why he was a bit uncomfortable as this
conversation started. I rush to assure Ed that I don't care what kind of work he does, and was just curious. "Just making conversation. I only asked because I thought that with all the prints around you might be in the arts or something."
"Yeah, yeah. Well I do feel a little funny about the mindless job I have. Especially when I meet obviously educated people like you."
"Obviously educated? What do you mean?"
"Well, the way you dress and everything. I can tell that you have some sort of professional job. Didn't you say that you're a manager of some sort?"
"Yeah, something like that. How's the chili coming along?"
"Well it's gonna be a while. I've got it goin now. Why don't we relax with a beer or glass
of wine while it cooks."
He leans over and kisses me, and we exchange a friendly grope. "Let's save the good part until after dinner," he says. "Somethin to look forward to.
OK?"
I smile and nod yes, as we walk back into the living room. Ed walks past me into another room. He returns wearing a robe and carrying a second one.
"Hey, why don't you take your clothes off. And put this on. With all the cat hair on the furniture, don't want you to get it all over your clothes. It's an old trick I use to get my guests naked," he adds with a laugh.
So I strip and put on the robe while Ed looks at the cooking. He returns, looks at me, and in a flash, he's all over me. He runs his hand around my hairy chest and we kiss. And again. And some more. And now Ed is going down to his knees. He parts the robe and swallows my dick. Hungrily he sucks it and then takes it out, looks at it, and proceeds to lick it. Up one side down the other. "Look at me."
"What?" "I'd like it if you look me in the eyes while you suck me," I say.
He complies immediately. Staring into my eyes as he sucks my cock with enthusiasm.
I draw Ed up to his feet, and we kiss some more. I lie him down on the couch, and begin to caress his body. I start to suck him. He closes his eyes and murmurs approving sounds. I climb over him into a sixty nine position, one foot on the floor and the other extended on the arm of the couch. My dick is hanging above Ed's head, and he reaches up with his mouth and grabs it between his lips like a kitten would jump for a ball of string. I sink down on top of him and we enjoy sweet sucking bliss for just a few minutes before I feel myself coming. I signal my excitement with unintelligible moans. Ed's cock has gotten bigger and harder in my mouth and is twitching wildly. We both come off together, moments apart. He swallows my load while I jerk his off on to his stomach and chest. It's all over my hands and forearm. Quite a load. I move around, resting half on top and half next to Ed's wet body. We kiss and smile into the others' face.
"First time sex and we come together," I observe.
"We should have waited. It was good, but I was really enjoying that horny feeling of
wanting you. I wonder if the chili burned."
I am too polite to remind him that he started the lovemaking. He stumbles to his feet and
is in the kitchen.
"Well, it burned a little on the bottom of the pot, but I think it's okay. Wash up and come
in and try it."
The chili wasn't half bad. The chili dog that served as appetizer was better than okay. The memory of it cried out for more. At the time I was in my early thirties, Ed also was not older than 35 years, and so both of us were ready for seconds in less than an hour.
We started playing grab-ass as we did the dishes, and although everything didn't get perfectly washed and dried, we were out of the kitchen in record time. This time we walked past the living room as Ed led the way into the bedroom beyond.
With a big comfortable bed to fool around on, and with the urgency of the desperate first fuck out of the way, Ed and I settled into long, slow, unhurried lovemaking.
"You know, I'd like to watch your mouth on my cock TOO," my partner declares.
"Oh, sure. I'd love to be your suck-slave, baby. How's this? Mmmm, your sweet prick
tastes so good. Must be that dried up cum from cocktail hour. Watch me lick the head
like a lollipop."
Ed starts to pull my balls down as he applies suction to my dick. He seems to be trying to stretch my ballsack. What is this about? It gets uncomfortable and I push his hand away. I should have done so sooner. My balls will ache for several days after this encounter.
The second cum takes at least three quarters of an hour, maybe more. It was lazy; it was fun. We tried several different positions, and varied techniques. This time we don't come off together, but pretty close to it. It seems that Ed and I are quite sexually compatible.
As I'm dressing and checking my watch, I'm thinking of the sex games we can try in the future.
"Could we get together next week?" Ed asks, breaking my reverie.
"Well, actually I have an important family function next week and I'm gonna be kind of busy."
And thus Ed began to learn about the trials of getting involved with a married man.