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! 3
2003, Cock Robin
"Who killed Cock Robin?/
I, said the sparrow/
with my bow and arrow."
Well, not THAT Cock Robin. I found my own, and killing him was the last thing I wanted to do! This is the story.
Spring 2003.
I had just turned 45, and though you could argue that I was now in middle age, I was certainly feeling a lot younger. Just five years before, when I was going to turn 40--a sort of gay milestone, I thought at the time--I took a short break from my career as a fine artist and made a plan to celebrate this transition. I had a major traveling show of my work that would start in San Francisco and then travel to Atlanta and south Florida over a period of about eight months so I put aside making art in my studio for the year (though I kept working at home and while traveling).
I decided to rent out my loft in Philly to a visiting artist at one of the local art schools and to rent a "fuck pad" close to the gayborhood. From that location, and on my travels to my show venues and the few weeks I would spend at each one, I decided to see if I could have sex with 1000 men in one year (and repeat encounters with any guy would not count!). At the end of the year I beat that number. [Read Onw Thousand Men on NiftyÑGay/Encounters]
To make myself a man magnet before the start of that year, I worked with a trainer to develop the hot body I had always wanted and never really had--though I was still attractive (or so I'm told!--and never had any trouble hooking up when I wanted, or developing longer-term relationships several times. Well into my 30s I was slim and boyish and had a hard time bulking up where it counted: my chest, arms and thighs, but as my metabolism changed, I lost my baby fat, got a more chiseled look and found I could develop a hot body, if I worked hard at it, six-pack and all. So I started my fortieth birthday year with a "new" body.
For the past five years, I had kept up my maintenance routines at the gym and still looked pretty hot, if I was to believe what I heard from my partners. I was getting a little gray at the temples and was attracting younger men who wanted a hot daddy, as well as older guys who wanted someone young and muscular. Sex was still an important part of my life, and I indulged as much as I could.
So here it was a Friday in late April, and around eight o'clock I went to my favorite gay bar to see what would happen that night. The baths were only a block away, so if I struck out, I had a backup plan. I sat at the bar and ordered a G & T from Gene, one of the long-time Friday regular bartenders. I sipped and looked around at the other customers: all ages, races and styles. Something for everyone. I like younger guys--what older man doesn't?--but I like to consider all possibilities and have had mind-blowing sex with older, overweight men as well as hot young ones.
I was starting on my second G & T when a group of five young college-age men came into the bar. They stood in a group on the opposite side of the bar and one of them went to the bar and came back with five bottles of Yuengling Lager, our local brew. While they stood and talked, it became apparent that this was a new experience for some of them. There were three white guys, what looked like a Hispanic man and finally a stunning black guy with incredibly dark skin, a handsome face and blindingly white teeth. All the guys were attractive and athletic, but the black man was wearing a white muscle shirt that showed off a gorgeous chest, tight muscular arms, narrow waist, and strong thighs filling out his low-slung jeans.
Over the next fifteen minutes or so, as they drank their beers, the black kid (at my age they were ALL kids) kept looking in my direction and smiling at me. So I decided to make my move. I signaled to Gene and asked him to take a round of drinks to the group of college boys. He did, and when they got them, he indicated me as the donor, and they turned to me and raised their bottles in a silent toast. I did the same, and the smile from the black man nearly knocked me over.
The boys talked a few more minutes, and when the black man looked at me again, I motioned with a nod of my head for him to come join me. He said something to his friends, and I thought I heard some encouragingly lewd comments from them as he came over.
I extended my hand to him. "John" I said.
"Robin" he replied, shaking my hand.
"So, Robin, tell me about yourself and your friends" I said.
"We're all about to graduate from Penn," he said, "and we were all on the varsity swim team." Thus the hot swimmers' builds on all of them. "I'm gay," he continued, "but my friends aren't. They had never been to a gay bar, and I told them I would show them the scene."
"Well, they would have trouble walking out of here without a good blow-job from a lot of the men here" I said.
"Yeah, that's probably true," Robin said, "but it may be a hard line to cross for at least three of them. That tall blond guy, Josh, is adventurous and might just be ready for an experiment. I coulda got him into bed but I didn't want to fuck up our relationship on the team."
"Well," I said, "you should go back there and let them know that they're missing oral sex that is better than what their girlfriends can give them. Tell them to hold the eyes of any of the single men at the bar for a little, then smile, head to the john and stand at a urinal with their cock out. Guaranteed that a great mouth will show up and stand next to them. A quick retreat to a stall, and they will have an experience they won't forget. Go on, let me see if you can sell them!"
He went back to his friends, and I saw them in animated conversation for a while, smiling, laughing, joking, trying to push the blond guy to go for it. After a little while he came back to me and we watched as his blond friend caught the eye of a 30-something man at the bar, and headed to the men's room, followed a minute later by his partner-to-be.
About five minutes later, his friend came out of the john with a big smile on his face, followed by the older man, also smiling and winking at the blond boy. More joking and joshing by his friends, I overheard him say "It was amazing. You guys should try it sometime. No reason for your girlfriends to know!"
"So," I said to Robin, "do you like to smoke weed?"
"Sure," he said. "You got some?"
"Well, not here," I said, "but I have some great one-hitter at my place. It's a fifteen-minute walk, but I'll spring for a cab."
"Let me say so long to my friends first" he said, and went over to the other boys and explained that he had found his daddy for the next hour, or maybe for the night.
I settled up with Gene, and was waiting near the door to the bar and we went out and almost immediately caught a cab to my loft in Philly's Old City neighborhood, where I had settled and bought a building in the early 80s, turning the fourth floor into a stylish open-plan living space, and the third floor into my studio. I had tenants--both gay men--on the first and second floors.
On the way over, Robin and I got to know each other a little better. I had a hand on his thigh, and ogled the attractive bulge in his jeans. He had an unidentified African accent and I asked where he was from.
"Uganda," he said. "We were better off than most people, and I am very close to my parents, who are both doctors trained in the US. When I was sixteen, I came out to them. The problem is that being gay in Uganda can result in a death sentence. Shortly after I came out, they decided to move to the states, and both got job offers in the New York area. I went to high school there, repeating a year so that I could catch up and get the grades I needed to get into a good college. So I am graduating Penn at twenty-three instead of the usual twenty-two. But at least I am alive and not in a Ugandan prison. I owe everything to my parents! But in spite of it all I really miss Uganda and my friends there. It's so beautiful, and being black is not the problem it is here."
"Robin doesn't strike me as a Ugandan name," I said.
"Actually, I have a traditional Ugandan name and a European name, Robert. Robert is easier for most Americans but I use Robin, which is a little more unusual," he said. "My Ugandan name is Bwanbale, or second-born male, since I have an older brother."
When we got to my place, I gestured for him to go up the stairs first, partly to be polite, but more to watch his amazing ass in his jeans as he climbed ahead of me. He had one of those nice firm, full butts that are a total turn on to me, and by the time we got to my door, my cock was hard as a rock. I unlocked and we went in.
"Wow, this is so cool!" Robin exclaimed as we entered my loft. I have a big living/eating/cooking area, and a bedroom that is open to the main living area but can be closed off with sliding panels I designed. After my year in my "fuck pad" I brought back some of the things I had gotten for my sexual adventures there: a big mirror over the bed, mirrors on the closets next to the bed, an upholstered bench that I used as a cocktail table and also for sex, a couple of big sofas, and piles of cushions I used when I had an occasional sex party.
I motioned him to the sofa in front of the upholstered bench and sat down next to him. "Ready for some weed?" I asked.
"Yeah, man," he replied.
I opened an inlaid wooden box I kept on the bench and pulled out a Zip-Lock bag with some rolled joints, and a lighter. I left the top of the box open so that Robin could see that I had condoms, a bottle of lube, a bottle of poppers and a 9" dildo, plus some moist wipes for cleaning up.
I took out a joint, lit it and inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in while I passed it to Robin, who did the same. The smoke hit me fast: this was truly one-hitter, but that would not stop us from getting higher still. Weed really makes me super-horny, and can keep me going for hours, the closest thing to an aphrodisiac that I know.
I took the joint back and took another deep hit, holding it in my lungs. Before passing the joint to Robin, I took my hand and gently turned his face to mine, and slowly moved into a kiss. Our lips met and I felt the soft sensuousness of his big fleshy lips. I slowly pushed my tongue into his mouth and then exhaled my smoke into him as he inhaled, while we continued to kiss. He did the same, taking another deep toke and exhaling into my lungs while we kissed again. Once more we did it, and then I put the joint out in the ashtray. I was really high, and anyway I did not want any more distractions from the main event.
I started kissing him again, and he sighed softly, relaxing and slouching back into the back of the sofa, opening his legs and moving his hips forward. His head was now under mine, submissive, asking for more without any words. My right arm snaked around his shoulders, feeling the hard muscles of his traps and deltoids, moving down his right arm a little to caress his biceps and triceps, firm and taught. I slipped my left hand under his shirt and felt the smooth silkiness of his skin, the natural smoothness of his body, without any hair. I caressed around his navel, then slowly let my fingers trace up over each hill and valley of his abs, firm under his skin, without any layer of fat. My hand moved from his abs to his chest, my palm now flat against him moving from the center over to his right nipple. I let my fingers find it and it was hard and erect, excited for stimulation.
When I took his nipple between my thumb and forefinger and gently worked them back and forth, he melted in my arms even more and whispered "Oh god, baby, that feels so fine. Oh geez, I want to make love so bad!"
"All in good time," I said, "I don't want to rush. You don't have any pressing appointments do you?" I joked.
"Oh shit, I'm yours as long as you want" he said.
"You mean you'll say the night?" I asked.
"The way this is going, I'm staying as long as you'll have me" he replied.
I took my hand out of his shirt and my other hand from around him, grabbed the bottom of his muscle shirt and started pulling it up over his head. Muscle shirt was a good name for it: his naked torso revealed an amazing, stunning muscular but natural physique, the kind that some young men are lucky to be born with, and not the over-bulked physique of a weight-lifter.
His shirt off, we went back to our kissing and he unbuttoned my shirt and slipped his had in to my chest. I am not smooth like him, nor very hairy. What you would probably call smooth with a little hair in the middle, that I used to shave from time to time. Now I was playing it natural. We caressed each other's chests and abs, working our tongues into each other's mouths, enjoying the taste and sensuality, heightened by the weed.
I broke the kiss and slipped to the floor, moving between his legs. I bent over and untied his sneakers and slipped them off, one by one. I ran my hands up his legs, feeling his hard, muscular thighs through his jeans, then rubbing my hands across his crotch, feeling his hard cock, lying sideways in his pants. I bent forward and kissed his lower belly, working my way up to his navel with my tongue, working my tongue into it, while my hands moved up his sides, feeling his obliques and then cupping around his pecs, rubbing and caressing them while my mouth continued on up over the ridges of his six-pack, tasting every little bit.
When I got to his chest, I started sucking on his nipples, one after the other, and then he said "Give me some teeth, John".
I complied and nibbled softly on each nipple. "More, harder" he whispered, so I did as he asked and bit down harder, this time chewing on each. "Oh shit, that's so fine" he gasped, and I kept it up, while my hands found his belt buckle and undid it, then pulled his belt out and threw it aside. Still working his nipples with my teeth, I unzipped his jeans, hooked my fingers in the top and pulled them down, while he helped me out by lifting his hips. I pulled them off, finally abandoning his nipples and working my way down his abs again, this time to his bright tight white low-rise briefs.
I pulled him into a kiss again as I let my hand move over is erection. "Oh god, John," he gasped, "You're bringing me so close. I don't wanna shoot yet."
"Don't worry, Robin," I said, "we'll make this last until you can't stand it anymore."
Saying that, I bent over, opened my mouth, and let my teeth trace back and forth over his hard cock in his briefs, taking little nibbles as I went. He was big: at least eight and one-half inches, and very thick, with the upward curve I find so sexy. He was moaning and bucking his hips up at me, wanting more and more. Again, I kissed his belly, and started working my way down toward his cock, hooking my fingers in his waist-band, and lifting it so that his cock started to snake its way out from under the elastic. I kept pulling down until his cock sprang free, and his briefs were below his ample balls. I finished pulling them off and he was totally naked, one of the most beautiful examples of manhood I had ever seen.
But there was a surprise: surrounding his erect cock and big balls was a golden cock-ring, studded with what looked like diamonds and emeralds. "Wow, that brings new meaning to the term `family jewels'" I said. "Is there a story that goes with it?"
"Yeah," he said. "In my freshman year, I had a boyfriend who was a senior. His family was wealthy and from Colombia, and he had this cock-ring made for me. It's 18-carat gold, diamonds and Colombian emeralds. I love wearing it, partly because it fits so well, and keeps me so hard, but also because it reminds me of him. We were in love, but he had to move back to Colombia when he graduated, so we had to end it, unfortunately. We stay in touch, but keeping it going would have been impossible at this point in my life, with him working there in his family business and me starting med school next fall."
"I think he was a very lucky boy" I said.
Now it was time to really get down to business!
I took his hard cut cock in my hands. When I put my hand around it, my fingers just met. I gently caressed it as I inspected every inch, every vein, the upward curve, the perfect symmetry, the flaring head, the uniform ebony color, the taught skin over the blood-filled body, the throbbing of his heart-beat through the whole hard penis. I let my fingers move lightly up and down the sides of his cock, and swirl around the head, with the skin shiny on its surface, reflecting the dim living room lights.
I leaned forward and gently kissed the tip, then ran my lips down the underside and back up again, running my tongue around the flaring head, tasting the clean, slightly soapy fragrance of him, flicking my tongue at the tender, sensitive part just under his cock-head, listening to his soft moans and gasps as I did my exploring. I looked up into his handsome face, and he bent forward to kiss me once again. "Oh, suck it, John. Make your boy feel good!" he whispered after we kissed.
My mouth closed softly over the head, with almost no pressure, and holding my mouth open, I took him into my throat as far as I could before slowly closing my mouth, tongue and throat around him. I'm afraid he was too big to get all of it in, and though I have trained myself to have little gag reflex, he was simply too big to deep-throat all the way to his pubes.
No matter.
I caressed the underside of his cock with my tongue, and slowly rose until just the tip was in my mouth, before repeating the whole thing once more. As I slowly moved up and down on him, I twisted my mouth around, varied the pressure, stopped with him deep in my throat, then sucked, let go and sucked again before going north again.
I augmented the blow job with exploring his abs and chest with my hands, working his nipples with my thumbs and forefingers, first softly and them pinching harder. He ran his hands through my hair as I sucked, then took my head and moved it up and down, like a living Flesh Jack, while he started to push up into my mouth, face-fucking me. He whispered "Ya got me close, John" and I left off sucking for a little, kissing his abs, chest, and then mouth, before going back to working on his cock again.
As I worked on him, I reached over to the box on the table and got out the bottle of lube, and squirted some on my hand. I pushed his thighs apart farther, and reaching under his balls, found his puckered hole and worked my lube-slicked fingers around it, causing him to go crazy with his moans, and to once again pull me off his cock.
"Oh, baby, you're gonna make me shoot," he gasped.
"If you do it now, are you going to be good for more later on?" I asked.
"Oh, I can go six, seven, eight times in a night if I'm having a good time with the right man," he said.
"Am I the right man?" I asked, smiling up at him.
"I think you just might be" he said before leaning down to kiss me.
So I returned my attention to his cock, speeding up as I worked on him, going for the finish, pausing only to say "I want you to cum in my mouth." As I sucked, I slipped a finger into his ass, causing him to gasp sharply and to grab my head even tighter as he pushed it up and down in more desperation. I worked my finger in and out as I sucked, and then found his prostate and started to massage it with the tip of my finger.
I didn't have to wait long: his gasps became shorter and more desperate, and he thrust his cock up into my mouth, trying to get it deeper and deeper. Then I felt his balls tighten and pull up hard against his gold cock-ring and he started to unload into my warm mouth.
I wanted to taste him, so I backed off so that he shot his load on my tongue, not in the back of my throat. He came five, six strong spurts, filling my mouth, and it kept on coming. I swallowed the first batch, and he filled my mouth yet again. Gradually he tapered off, and I took his cock out, and used my thumb and forefinger to milk the rest of the cum out of his urethra, where I licked it off his cock.
He slouched back on the sofa with his head back and his eyes closed, sweaty and panting as he tried to recover from his massive orgasm. I got off the floor and sat next to him on the sofa, once again, pulling him into a kiss and letting my left hand roam over his heaving chest and abs as he unwound. I wrapped my hand around his still-hard cock, gently caressing it as my lips sought his once again and we kissed softly, but passionately.
We spent perhaps ten minutes unwinding as he recovered. "God, John, that was amazing," he said more than once. "I haven't had oral sex that was that good sinceÉ." and his voice trailed off as we kissed again.
His hand once again closed around the hard cock in my jeans, and he whispered "Your turn now."
He got on his hands and knees and repeated what I had done to him: shoes and socks, belt, button and zipper, pants off, stimulating my cock though my briefs, and finally pulling them off.
I had a surprise for him for, I too, was wearing a cock ring. Mine, however, was sterling silver with engraved patterns on it, also a gift from a former boyfriend. He leaned over and started sucking my cock, repeating many of the same moves I had done with him. I too, had to get him to stop from time to time to keep from blowing my load before I wanted to.
After the fifth time, instead of just looking up at me to kiss me, he got off the floor and straddled my legs as I slouched back on the sofa. He was still hard, and I took our two cocks in my hand and stroked them as he leaned forward to kiss me. I put my arms around him and pulled his body to mine.
It was amazing feeling his strong, muscled chest, smooth and sweaty against mine, and he rotated his pelvis against me, rubbing our cocks together as we kissed. I ran my hands up and down his strong back, feeling the two cords of muscle at the base just over his ass, kissing his neck, poking my tongue into his ear.
"Fuck, Robin," I whispered, "you're such a beautiful man. If you don't watch out, I think I'm gonna fall in love."
"Yeah, man, John, me too," he said. "But right now, I want you inside of me."
"There are condoms in the box behind you," I said.
"Are you poz?" he asked.
"No, negative," I replied. "I just got tested last week. I can show you the results. What about you?"
"Negative too. I just got tested yesterday. I have the paper in my pocket."
"Show me later," I said. "I trust you."
"I trust you too," he whispered in my ear, and then reached over for the lube bottle.
He squeezed lube on his hand and applied it to my cock and then to his ass. He held our two cocks in his hand, now lubed up and slippery, and rotated his hips back and forth, fucking his cock on mine. I thought I might just cum then and there, and so pushed his hand away while my lips met his again for another deep kiss.
He raised himself on his knees slightly and scooted forward so that my cock was now nestled between his buns and then he reached around and guided me to his hole.
Slowly, he settled back on my cock and I felt it slip into his warm love tunnel, slowly sliding in as he settled back on it until I was in balls-deep. His hard cock was pressed against my body, and I reached my arms around him and pulled him to my chest as he massaged my throbbing cock with his sphincter and then started slowly rotating his hips back and forth as his ass worked its magic on me.
"Fuck, Robin," I whispered in his ear. "Keep that up and I won't last long."
"That's OK, John," he said, "we have the whole night ahead of us. Just love me baby."
Our first fuck did not last long. His hips probably moved in and out about ten times before I felt myself hitting the point of no return.
He sped up slightly and gasped "Oh, God, baby, show me your love," and he squeezed my cock with his ass and I started to shoot my load deep inside of him. His cock erupted once again, less than a half hour after he had cum in my mouth, and spewed another big load across my chest, hitting me in the chin too. As we came together, our lips locked and I pulled his chest tight to mine, feeling his heart beating wildly, feeling his muscular arms surround me and pull me hard to him.
When it was done, he collapsed into my arms, kissing me and whispering "I love your loving John. I just want to make love to you all night long."
"Yeah, I want that too," I said.
We lay in each other's arms for a while, and then he pulled off my cock and flopped on the sofa next to me. We kept kissing and caressing, him using his hand to spread his cum all over my chest, then bending over and licking a lot of it off. We were a sweaty, cum-soaked mess, but I had not felt so close to another man like this for a long time. I was willing to sit there with my arms around him, feeling his amazing body, looking at his amazing cock--still hard, by the way--for as long as he was willing.
After a few minutes he whispered, "How about a shower together?"
"Let's go," I said, and stood up, taking his hand and leading him into my bathroom.
I had recently redone the bathroom, with a spacious shower with two shower heads--for occasions like this! I turned on the water, adjusted the temperature and stepped in, pulling him after me.
For the next few minutes, we soaped each other up, and I now had the opportunity to explore his whole body, front and back, washing every inch of his shiny black skin, his big, still-hard cock and his muscular buns and the center of my pleasure between them.
Washing his cock, I once again knelt in front of him and once again, took him in my mouth. I sucked him for a few minutes, once again bringing him close to climaxing, until he turned around and offered his ass to my eager tongue.
For the next few minutes I rimmed him, kissing his ass, probing him with my tongue, listening to his moans as he pushed his ass back in my face, and reached around to spread his cheeks to give me the best access.
After rimming him for a while, I stood up and nuzzled and kissed his neck and ears, my hands around on his chest, stimulating his nipples as my cock rode up and down between his buns and he squeezed them together, grabbing at my hard cock with his ass.
"Fuck me again, baby," he whispered hoarsely.
"Right here in the shower?" I asked.
"Oh, yeah, man," he said, and reached around for my cock once again, aligning it with his hole and backing up on me until my cock was all the way inside of him.
He was like a wild man, fucking himself on my hard cock, pushing back and forth, grabbing me with his sphincter, massaging me, twisting and turning, desperate for every inch of me.
"You're gonna make me cum too soon," I said. "Let's take this into the bedroom."
Reluctantly, he pulled off me, we got out of the shower and carefully dried each other off. Then I took his hand and led him to the bed. On the bedside table, I had another bottle of lube and a bottle of poppers.
He dived onto the bed, face down, spreading his legs and lifting his ass so that his hole was beckoning to me as he rotated his hips up and down, begging me to put my cock in and fuck him some more.
I reached for the bottle of poppers and opened it, taking a deep inhale on each nostril, then handing the bottle to him and lubing my cock as he inhaled. I lined up my cock with his twitching hole, and pushed my way in just as the poppers hit us both. I leaned forward hooking my hands under his arms and kissing him on the neck as my cock plunged in and out of his ass.
"Oh, God, John, show me your love again. Love me baby, love your boy, you make me feel soooo good!"
Since I had cum not that long ago and since I was no longer in my 20s, I knew I would last a bit longer this time. I fucked him from the rear for a while and then he flipped over and I fucked him while looking into his eyes and onto his amazing, glistening body, leaning over to kiss him while we made love.
He whispered his words of love as we fucked, and after about fifteen minutes, our rhythm got more intense, and he pulled me to his body as we kissed a final time and I started to once again pump my semen into his ass, and he once again shot ropes of white cum over his dark skin.
Afterward, we kissed and cuddled, cleaned up with one of the towels I kept on the bedside table, and fell asleep in each other's arms.
Once during the night, we found each other again and made love, slowly and deliberately and again in the morning. The next day, Saturday, we spent the day in bed, me mostly fucking him, but I convinced him to fuck me a couple of times and feeling that big thick cock filling me was an amazing experience.
He had to get back to school work--a final paper, studying for exams--on Sunday evening, but by that time, we had, by my count, made love fifteen times.
And it did turn out that we fell in love, at least that we had a beautiful thing going for the next few months after his graduation until he had to leave for medical school in the fall. But we did have a great time for a week before he had to go.
That is my next story.