This is the fictional memoir of a gay man, told in the first person. Some of the stories in this series are based on actual experiences, usually embellished a lot, as well as completely fictional ones. They depict sex between consenting adult males. If this offends you, do not read them. These are my stories. Please respect the copyright. If you enjoy them, let me know at johntheartist@hotmail.com. Please Contribute to Nifty.org and keep this wonderful resource going!
This is the third in a series of books that began with C'est La Vie! (1970-1997), and continued with One Thousand Men (1998). Th stories in this book start in 1999 and continue to the present. I hope you like them!
What A Life! 23
2013, Birthday Gift
I was turning 55 in April of 2013. I had always had a slim, in-shape body, and looked very boyish until I was 40 or so. At 40, my present to myself was getting the body I always wanted: tight, muscular but not bulky, well-defined: hard work but worth it. Since 40, I had worked to keep my body that way, though my hair was gray now, and some of the hills and valleys of my body were a little less defined. I usually didn't have any trouble finding hot guys for hook-ups, though it was getting harder to find young ones.
I had to be in San Francisco for my birthday on business, and my three gay friends from college [see my story What A Life! 2 in this series] let me know that there was going to be a birthday present delivered to my hotel. "Make sure you're in your room at 10 the night of your birthday," they said. Nothing I could do would make them tell me anymore.
I had booked a nice hotel in SF, since my gallery was paying for it, and I had a suite with a view and a king bed. On the day of my birthday, I had meetings all day, then a dinner with some curators and gallery people, and managed to excuse myself early to get back to my hotel around 9:30. I was tired and sweaty from the day, and stripped and stepped under the hot shower. I felt relaxed for the first time during the day. I dried myself off, wrapped a towel around my waist, and slipped a DVD of my favorite porn star into the DVD player, planning on a nice hour of playing with myself, and expecting a package from my friends--champagne?, food?, a hot porno DVD?--to show up at ten.
A couple of minutes to ten, the phone rang and when I picked it up I answered, "Yes?"
"Is this John?" said the masculine voice on the other end.
"Yes," I replied.
"This is -- -- " and he mentioned the name of my favorite porn star, the one getting sucked by a hot young man on the TV right then.
"No way!" I said, incredulous.
"It's true," he said. "Your friends asked if I could join you to help celebrate your birthday, and I said I would be honored to play with one of my big fans!"
I was speechless! "You there?" he said after a few seconds.
"Fuck yeah, I'm in room 606," I replied.
"See you in a minute," he said and hung up.
I had been fixated on this guy ever since I saw his first video about a year ago: he was dark-haired, with black eyes, a smooth, muscular, defined body, moderately hairy legs, and the most perfect cock I had ever seen: large but not so big that I imagined it would be difficult to suck all the way down, or hurt as I got fucked.
Well into my 40s, though I was versatile, I generally was more of a top than bottom. But as I got older, I found myself enjoying bottoming more and more, and more of my fantasies involved being topped by hot guys.
In all his videos, I had only seen him fucked once. In all the others he was a top, and he performed just the way I liked to be topped: lots of slow fore-play, kissing, slowly entering his partner, kissing him as they fucked, showing off his beautiful muscular torso, shooting his load into his partner's mouth or on his chest or back, then helping to bring his partner to climax with his hand or mouth. I had dreamed of him fucking me, like, a million times, and now it looked like it was going to come true!
A soft knock on the door: I looked through the peep-hole, and there he was, in the flesh! I opened the door. He stood there with a beautiful smile on his face, looking incredibly hot in jeans and a T-shirt that showed off his muscular chest and arms. It stretched across his pecs, and clung to his biceps. He was more handsome in person than on video.
I stood aside and he stepped in, holding out his hand and saying "Great to meet you John."
"This is unbelievable," I said, "I didn't know that you did anything other than the videos. By the way, I think I have them all."
"Yeah," he said, "I do a little escorting between shoots. It helps pay the rent, and I have met a lot of nice guys that way. Some have become regulars and we sometimes get together for dinner or a show, even if we don't play."
"I just can't believe that this is happening," I said.
"Just go with the flow, John. I'm yours until tomorrow morning, if you want me. By the way, you have an incredible body! Your friends said this is your 55th birthday, but you look more like 40, except for your gray hair. You could color it you know, and do porn yourself!"
"That's really nice to hear from you," I said, "but you don't have to stretch the truth. "
"Well, I'm not," he said. "Do you want me to introduce you to my producer?"
"Thanks," I said, "but I'm cool as things are." I then told him how I worked in my body 15 years before, when I turned 40, and had a project to have sex with 1000 men in that year--which I exceeded by 250!--and even did some escorting for about a month in San Francisco when I was there. I'd worked to maintain my body since and was mostly successful at staving off the bodily travails of aging--so far!
"Amazing!" he responded.
I stepped forward and put a hand on his chest, feeling the hard muscle through his shirt. He smiled and pulled me into a kiss and we stood there kissing for the next five or six minutes, me running my hands up and down his back, feeling his ass through his jeans, firm and muscular, moving, my hands over his strong arms, as his hands and fingers explored my body, and my hard cock pressed against his own hardening cock.
"Let me get more comfortable," he said, and started to slowly undress. It was more like a slow strip-tease, actually. He pushed his T-shirt slowly up, revealing his ripped abs and beautiful olive skin. Slowly it moved over his pecs, revealing his gorgeous nipples. How many times had I fantasized about feeling them between my lips? He slowly pushed it up over his head and dropped it on the floor, standing there in front of me, his hands at his sides, my cock feeling like it was going to explode under my towel.
I reached out to feel his body, but he pushed my hands aside. "Soon," he said, smiling.
He slowly unbuckled his belt and turned around so that his back was facing me. How many times had I imagined lying on top of that back, my cock wedged between his firm buns as I dry-fucked him and he undulated below me on a wave of muscle. I wanted to run my hands down it but knew he was calling the shots.
He turned around again and pulled his belt out and dropped it on the floor. Holding my eyes, he slowly unbuttoned his pants and unzipped the zipper. I could just get a small glimpse of the hard ridge lying sideways under the zipper. He turned around again, took condoms and poppers out of his pocket, kicked off his shoes, and slowly pushed his pants to the floor. His ass, stretching the white briefs he was wearing was amazing. How many times had I seen it on screen? But this was a thousand times better. He was mine for the night!
He bent over to remove his jeans and now I could imagine--but would he let me?--what it would be like to have him bend over so that I could fuck him.
Now out of his jeans, he turned around, revealing, just like in his videos, his hard cock lying sideways in his white briefs. Looking me in the eye, he walked slowly toward me and put his arms around me. Now I could feel his heavenly body against mine, his hard cock pressing against mine, feel the hills and valleys of muscles in his back, feel the light hair on his legs brushing against mine, smell his clean masculine smell, feel his warm breath on my shoulder, neck and ear: all I had dreamed of time and again.
We kissed, softly, feeling our lips and tongues explore one another. We kissed deeply and passionately for a few minutes, and then he took my hand and led me over to the bed. He asked me to sit, and I put my arms around him, bringing my lips to his left nipple, sucking, working with my tongue, lightly biting him with my teeth, then kissing my way across to his other nipple and doing the same. Then licking his pecs, feeling the ridges where they rose out of his rib-cage, kissing and licking my way down to the little trail of dark hair disappearing into his waist band, then back up to repeat the whole thing again. My cock was throbbing so badly that I pulled my towel open so that I could slowly stroke myself as I explored his torso.
I repeated these actions several times, pulling his body to mine so that I could feel his hard cock pressing against my chest. He murmured "That feels so fine, John, just keep going," while his hands caressed my hair, moved over my shoulders and down my back, then back up again.
I couldn't bear it any more: I had to see that beautiful cock and balls, whose every contour, and inch of skin I felt I already knew from his videos. I gently ran my fingers back and forth over its hardness under the thin fabric of his briefs. It hardened more as I touched it, and he breathed in a little sharp breath and moaned very softly as my fingers traced its dimensions.
I hooked my forefingers into the waistband, pulled the elastic over his cock and pushed his briefs to the floor. There, right in front of me, was the most beautiful specimen of manhood I could remember for a long, long time. In my mind, perfectly proportioned, curving up just so, taught, circumcised, the head a beautiful reddish-brown color, very hard, the skin shiny as it stretched across the hard tissue beneath.
I cupped his balls in my hand. Again, just the right size, like medium plums hanging loose but not low yet. I traced the contours of his cock very lightly with my fingertips, feeling its curve, its dimensions, its hardness, and the silky-soft skin. All the while he was whispering to me, making small moans like a purring cat.
Then it was time: I leaned forward, kissed the tip, and let my lips slide down all the way to the base, holding him loosely in my mouth, not exerting much pressure. "Oh, yeah," he moaned and I closed my lips tighter as I pulled back up. I took his balls in my hand and pulled ever so gently as I repeated what I had done, holding him deep in my throat, working the underside with my tongue, and then adding my hand to the base of his cock as I worked him up and down, up and down; then he started slowly face-fucking me, not going too deep or choking me, just slow easy fucking.
I paused and looked up at him, and he bent over to kiss me for a couple of minutes, and then I went back to working him again. "John, that feels so good but you're getting me real close to cumming," he said. So I went back to sucking his nipples and tonguing and kissing his pecs and abs again, before heading back to servicing him some more.
I worked on his cock for a good half hour, enjoying every second of it, sometimes stroking my own cock but worried that I would shoot before I was ready, so mostly just kept my hands off myself.
He slipped his hands under my arms and lifted me back to standing, our bodies pressed against each other, our cocks pushing against each other, our pelvises pushing hard as we kissed deeply, and our tongues wound around each other's.
"Let's lie down," he whispered.
I lay on the bed, and he lay down on top of me, chest-to-chest, then rose on his arms so we were looking into each other's eyes as he moved his cock back and forth over mine and my belly, dry fucking me. I wrapped my legs around his thighs and pushed my hips up to meet him. He leaned down to kiss me, then pushed himself up again. Seeing his muscular body poised over me, every muscle standing out in sharp relief, I put my hands on his chest, moved them over his arms and down to his belly, then around to his ass and up his back as I pulled his body to me and our lips locked again.
He nibbled my ears, kissed my neck licked around my chin and throat and started working his way down my body toward my cock. I couldn't wait, but wondered if I would blow my load the minute his lips touched my cock. I pulled my mind away and thought about something else for a while to back myself away from orgasm.
Taking my cock in his hand as he looked me in the eye, I felt his warm lips close around the head and then slowly descend the shaft until I was fully in his mouth. He sucked up and down for a few times, and I had to say, "Wait, hold off, I'm too close," and then he would work my balls or kiss my thighs or belly and then start all over again, bringing me to the brink and then stopping again. I lost track of how many times he edged me, before he moved back up into my arms to kiss me.
"Roll over," he said, and I did as I was asked. He knelt between my legs and pushed them apart, then buried his mouth between my buns and found my hole with his tongue. Pushing in, swirling it around, licking up my crack and back again, he ate my ass for at least ten minutes, my moans getting louder and louder all the time. He slipped a wet finger in, then two, loosening me up while he kissed my buns. I was eager for him to start fucking me.
"You ready?" he asked softly, kissing me on the shoulders and neck and nibbling on my ear.
"Oh yeah," I gasped, wondering how I had lasted so long.
"Here, put this under you," he said, handing me the towel.
I did as I was asked, then spread my legs and raised my ass, arching my back, presenting myself to him. He lowered himself onto me, like doing push-ups, rubbing his hard cock up and down between my buns, teasing me, while he kissed me on the neck and shoulders some more. Then he paused as he grabbed a condom from the nightstand, and he ripped it open and rolled it on. He handed me the poppers and I took a deep whiff.
"Now," he said, and I felt his cock push against my hole and slowly enter me, a slight twinge of pain at first and then my body was flooded with pleasure as he pushed all the way in, the poppers washed over me, lowered his weight onto my back, kissed my neck and whispered "You OK?"
"Uh huh," I murmured, and he started to push in and out slowly, taking his weight off my back and fucking me with long strokes. I could make out our reflection in the mirror over the dresser along the wall next to the bed, seeing his muscles flexed and the smile on his face as he fucked me.
We had been making love for more than an hour now, and we had both been ready to pop many times. The fucking didn't last long. After a couple of minutes he picked up speed, and I pushed my ass back at him as he fucked deep, pounding me just like I had dreamed many times watching his videos. A couple of minutes later he yelled "I'm gonna cum," and sped up even more.
"Cum in me," I managed to gasp, and, without touching my own cock, I started shooting all over the towel on the bed, as my contractions made my sphincter contract on his cock and he started to cum in the condom.
In a minute it was over, and he lay panting on my back, nuzzling my neck for a couple of minutes before he softened and slipped out. He rolled over to his side, took the condom off and dropped it on the floor, then, as I turned over and pulled out the cum-soaked towel, he lay against me with his thigh over mine, kissing me while I caught my breath.
"That was fucking amazing. Just like I dreamed about. Tell me this isn't a dream," I said.
He kissed me tenderly and said, "No John, it's not a dream. Yeah, that was amazing. You're a very hot guy!"
After that we wound down, cuddled and kissed a lot, then ordered some snacks from room service (sex always makes me hungry). We talked and laughed. He turned out to be a really interesting guy, aside from being amazing sex.
Of course, neither of us got much sleep that night. I wanted to act out all the scenes I had seed in his videos, and he even asked me to fuck him once too.
And my old friends? Well, what can you say? They're just amazing!!!