Antibiotic Marathon
At some point in the 1970s, I was feeling sorry for myself. A gay man with a healthy sexual appetite and little satisfying outlet for it. My marriage was, and is, extremely important to me, and I dared not jeopardize it. On the other hand, when I married who knew that those gnawing gay feelings were not a passing bisexual phase that would easily be overcome by a happy marriage?
I came up with a solution one day of going on a two day sexual spree, but first well protected against sexually transmitted diseases.I went to a doctor who advertised in a local gay paper, lied to him and told him that I had had sex the previous day and the guy told me that he was being treated for syphilis. I asked for an antibiotic prescription, and got it. Then taking an abundance of antibiotic medication to protect me against infection (there was no AIDS at the time) I went to a gay bath, and told my wife I was going on a business trip.
I stayed overnight, and met a guy there who matched me in hornyness. We caressed each other for a long time, kissed, hugged, and exchanged lengthy oral favors. This guy, whose name I don't remember, was also one of the few guys that I have ever fucked. He couldn't believe how naive I was, but he was very patient, and was rewarded by the enthusiastic efforts of this very willing student. After I fucked him, spoon fashion, I stayed in his butt, and we rested.
After a few minutes he asked, "Didn't you come?"
I assured him that I had, and he wondered, "Then why are you still hard?"
If he realized how deprived this boy had been, he would have understood better why I was still excited. Over the next 3 or 4 hours I think I wore him out. He didn't quite know what to make of me. We talked alot in between sex -- he was several years older than I and told me that his wife had died a few years prior. He said that he didn't usually get fucked and had only been fucked a few times, but I guess he sensed my neediness and my desire to "try it all."
The following day, I continued my marathon by responding to a pre-selected massage ad. The masseur was Tony the Greek. An older guy (for a masseur) of perhaps 40, Tony had an abundance of curly dark hair, a compact muscular body and a nice European accent. He began the massage in a traditional way, with me up on a massage table, and he fully dressed. As we talked, he quickly understood my wants and became more intimate in his touches. He was actually a good masseur, qualified to give an excellent legitimate professional massage. But by the time he was working on my shoulder, his bulging crotch in my face was too much of a temptation for me to allow the physical therapy to continue so innocently. I brushed his crotch with my arm, he pressed back, and we were off to the races. Soon I opened his fly and extracted a huge, dark cock. Uncircumcised, long and very thick, I stroked it and then began to nibble at it.
"Okay, okay," said Greek Tony. "Let's move over to the bed. Too bad though," he mumbled, "your body was very tense, I could have worked some more on that."
I had few regrets about shortening the professional part of the massage. As tense as my body may have felt to his professional hands, I could think of many ways to lose my feelings of tension.
As Tony stripped, I noticed a big round mirror above the bed. He joined me on the bed and we embraced.
"Do you like to get fucked, Joe" (the name I had given him), the masseur asked.
Not quite understanding him because of his accent and my nervousness, I answered non-comittally.
"Good, I will fuck you later !" he enthused.
Catching it the second time, I quickly corrected the misunderstanding.
"Oh. Alright," he said sadly. "Too bad, I like this kind of ass. If I press my big dick against your butt, you can look up at the ceiling and it will look as though you are being fucked. We can pretend."
Sounded like a fun, harmless game to me. And so we played it. And then proceeded to swallow the Italian sausage, followed by choke on the Greek sausage. Tony, the masseur, loved deep kissing, and so we swapped spit and sucked on tongues and darted our tongues into each other's mouth.
The time passed too quickly, and I was soon dressing and getting ready to leave. Tony was encouraging me to come back again.
"I have some young friends, we can have a big party all together," he enthused.
Nice idea, but regretfully it never happened.
My sex marathon was not yet over, however. I had one more appointment to keep. This one was also with a masseur whose ad I had been drooling over for months. Time out for dinner and a walk. And then ringing a bell to an apartment further uptown. After being buzzed in, I realized that this old building had no elevator and my masseur was on the sixth floor. Like I needed the exercise after the past 36 hours or so.
Huffing and puffing a little, I finally arrived at the sixth floor (the twelfth landing!) and there was a very handsome blond man hanging out a doorway in greeting. Well that was worth it, I'm beginning to think. This one is really something! Movie star gorgeous, with bulging muscles and his blond locks falling over his forehead just so, I forgot all about the stairclimbing. Robert wore a brightly colored floral shirt open to his navel and loose fitting cotton slacks. He was barefoot and had a dazzling smile which was turned on full blast right now.
Robert ushered me into his small neat apartment and after a little chat showed me to a massage table which was set up in the bedroom. As I lay there, face down, I looked out at the postage stamp sized kitchen, which had highly polished black and white tiles in a checkerboard design for flooring. Robert's hands felt great on my shoulders, back and legs. He soon asked me to turn over and as I did, he stripped down to bikini style shorts. I enjoyed the view very much and told him so. He reacted warmly as he massaged my arms with strong gentle hands. I never thought we were going to get down to "business" although I had tried to throw several hints about the type of massage I was hoping for. But then, Robert, having done all the therapeutic stuff on my legs and torso, picked up my dick as though he were inspecting a newly caught fish. He slavered it with oil and began a pleasant up and down rubbing movement with one hand as he held it with the other. I smiled my approval. Within moments I was stiff as a nail and beginning to worry that this was going to be over too soon. I tried to slow Robert down by placing my hand over his, which resulted in his asking in a confidential low voice, "Dyawannafugoff?"
"Umm, wha' ? What did you say?"
"Do you want to fuck it off ?" he repeated in a clear, easily understood voice.
I quickly understood that "it" referred to my erection, and responded, "Well, whatever is your specialty." I had actually been looking forward to a blowjob.
"Well, that's it !," he responded with a smile.
"Ummm, I'm not exactly expert at this, and you might have to help me out a bit, I mumbled," playing a little more innocent than was real, but at the same time, honestly conveying my nervousness about the situation.
"Well, Ooo- kayyyy, "
said Robert as he stripped off his briefs and joined me up on the table.
Then flipping over on his belly, before I could even get a good look at his dick, he began to instruct me in the most basic way as though dealing with a slow child. Not sure about his cock but he had an excellent ass.
"Now, you just lie on top of me here, and stick your willie in my hole."
He hunched up his butt invitingly, and I followed instructions without difficulty. Robert reached around to help.
"Now, don't be afraid, just push it all the way in, and...OH YES, that's better, that's right, that's uh...good."
I shut up Robert and his ridiculous running commentary by commencing slow fucking motions. I wanted it to be slow because I was dangerously close to coming. Although Robert's massage was not the most sensual I had ever received, he was among the finest looking men I had ever been with, and I had been looking forward to this encounter since first reading his ad months earlier. Robert was not completely happy with my pace.
"Uh, you can do it harder, faster, harder, you know."
This guy wanted a fast hard fuck. Well fuck him, who's the customer here anyway? I ignored him as I continued to screw him slowly with long, deep, circular thrusts. When I reversed directions, he moaned, and that sent me over the top.
"Gonna come !"
"It's okay, it's okay, stay in, stay in there, baby."
And so I shot a full, heavy load in several volleys up Robert's clutching ass.
As we recovered and Robert flipped over, lying next to me, he said, "What was all that stuff about not knowing what you were doing? That really wasn't new for you, was it?"
"Well, I have, uh, fucked before, but, y'know, not so much with men," pointing to my wedding band.
"Oh, I see. But basically the same, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess so. Listen, sorry that I came so fast. Maybe we could rest a while, and I could...uh..."
"Oh, well, no, no. But you are invited back, any time, just any ole time you want to."
" Uh-huh. I see. Well, OK," as I get up and start to dress. I point to a big movie poster on the wall. There is a picture of a handsome blond man with an open shirt pointing a gun at a dark haired woman with her back to the camera. The lighting in the room is low but the poster seems to be of fairly recent vintage - not a golden oldie. The man in the poster looks like the guy I just fucked.
"Is that you ?," I ask, pointing.
"Well, I hope that I look better than THAT !," he replies, with real or fake indignation. He closes the door, so I cannot examine the poster in any more detail.
Hmm, maybe I just fucked a movie star, I'm thinking as I start the long trip down six double flights of stairs.