Reunion on Staten Island
Staten Island Reunion
A high school sports pair reunite after a decade
-1-
It's late when I board the boat for my island home. The final ship leaves soon or it's a low-cost hotel near the Battery. Not that I wish for any of these with these conditions - the cause for my late hour is not a celebratory game, a date, or luckily even a client's urgency. My supervisor rushed out, leaving a pile of tasks on my desk which he expected to be done before his next day. I tried to imagine how many more such nights lie ahead for me before I might become a partner. I started working here about three years ago, and things were looking bleak to me. I'm one of the few who didn't attend ivy schools, so the ambition to achieve a partnership might be a long shot. Heavy work schedules wouldn't let me get out of this predicament anytime soon.
I'm the only co-worker on my boat living on Staten Island, so there was no other way to get home unless the final boat.
This is the second time this week. My trainer and I had an early session planned, so my determination to get home was fierce. We had enough to contend with between workload and a busy life in New York. Maintaining a healthy lifestyle was a necessity to my mental wellness.
As I embraced the pleasurably cool weather after being indoors all day, I sensed someone else near me. When I glanced, I saw a leather-shielded pair of arms leaning on my side of the rail. I recognized him. It was an old friend, Billy Thorpe. I was the quarterback on the Curtis Warriors high-school football team while he was a receiver. He was the All-State player - I was not. We were close buddies too. Our long-lost friendship was evident in his full-bodied physique and now scruffy look. I had not experienced any relationships with men since growing apart with Billy ten years ago. Billy and I went to different universities and took separate career paths after high school. I ended up in law and worked in the city, while Billy chose his dad's contracting business and remained on the island.
Now he was all grown up, still a head-turner with his maturity and chiseled features, and a sturdy build.
"Billy? Is that you? I'm Kyle Maddox."
"Holy crap, I didn't recognize you!" he said, then added, "You're now a sophisticated married father, right? That's what you look like in a suit!"
"Just here to visit. I've a job at Fuller & Brush, uptown. I've been crunching incessantly for a project and just came out of the office. I used to stay with roommates but since my Mom sold the house and is moving away to Fort Lauderdale, I'm staying with my mother. Working in the city and commuting an hour and a half daily is just exhausting."
"Sorry for your loss," he said of my deceased father. "So you're an islander by default again."
"Only for a couple of weeks. I hope to find a new place in the city to move into."
"And I?' he couldn't keep from prying. "I work here in the city too. The family business, but now I manage the new tower construction on Battery Park Plaza. There's a huge crew working for me - erecting steel, setting windows, 1000's of people or so. Once we get the basic structure up, someone else takes it to improve utility and interiors." Then, as a sigh, he added, "We had an accident earlier. I've spent the last six hours filing reports, which could've let me enjoy this game at home."
"It won't fit; it's still too short!" He chuckled as our usual banter resurfaced. He was so muscular that he had virtually no neck. "Where have you been living, Billy? I never see you on the ship."
"I purchased a three-story house on the eastern side." (To non-locals, the East Side always referred to the well-known two-mile-long boardwalk on the eastern side of the island, not the pricey Manhattan Upper East Side.) I've spent a few years renovating it. I live on the top floor and have tenants on the lower two floors. My parlor window and front porch must face where you work. Damn, I bet you've seen me standing naked in front of that window, smoking a joint, and masturbating. I'm typically home before this time, enjoying my beer and relaxation."
"I must admit. I don't have a telescope. In fact, I don't even have a window. I have a cubicle! And I never get the 4:30." I smirked and decided to tease him a bit, "If I recall correctly, I'd need a strong telescope to see your diminutive dick in the first place. Even if I wanted to."
The familiar camaraderie banter had returned effortlessly. I could see the counter-insult forming on his lips. (He was always a bit slow on the uptake.)
At that moment, a jolt signaled that we had docked. It was time to walk the few blocks to my mother's house. We disembarked, said our goodbyes, and Billy turned the other way. "I only live two blocks in this direction. It's late. But how about we have a beer and chat tomorrow or Friday? I'd love to catch up-even if it's all lies. I'm at 301, Apartment C."
"Yes. I'd like to catch up. Friday works. Is 7 o'clock okay?"
"See you then. Hand me your phone. I'll input my phone number." I did as he handed me his.
"Nice to see you again, Billy. We sure made a lot of trouble back in the day, didn't we?" He laughed and strolled off. I followed his "I-run-the-show" pose with my eyes: his jeans-clad ass was still small and tight and his shoulders were wider than I remembered, emphasized by the black leather short jacket. Then, I realized my penis was hard. What the hell? Has it genuinely been that long? Was I seriously that horny? That I was eyeing a guy I hadn't seen naked for ten years?
My mother had left dinner in the fridge to microwave and gone to bed. I ate and went to bed as well, setting my alarm for 6:30 to meet my trainer.
I had an excellent workout the following morning and a long day at F&B. (Often known by the employees as "Fuckin' Ballbusters"). However, I managed to stay until closing on Friday to see Billy again. We used to be inseparable friends and the main culprits of on-campus pranks. I arrived home around 6:30, promptly showered and slipped on jeans, a t-shirt, and a New York Knicks hoodie-choosing not to wear underwear. Hell, the weekends were starting, and I didn't need to work tomorrow. I felt free and content. Seeing Billy again had reminded me that I had been nearly celibate for almost ten years. (Well, I had sown some seeds-or wasted them-in college before the law school grind and occasionally in New York. I did say "almost").
I examined myself in the mirror. I liked what I saw: dark hair, cut short and gelled, large dark blue/purple eyes set in a slim ruddy face, a bit of a thin nose, very Roman in appearance, a decent physique with a flat, almost concave tummy, and narrow hips. I seemed good. I had developed the Italian stallion look-the gigolo, not the fighter. Shame there were so few people to admire it.
I strolled the five minutes to Billy's place. He had indeed improved it. A vibrant Victorian with all the gingerbread-even if it was mostly plastic replicas. Front-facing porches on all three levels River-front yards on all three levels. But his front garden was oddly styled: a small lot, fenced in with fancy ironwork, and an Italian-style fountain. What was he thinking? He's not even full Italian-only on his mother's side. And she was blonde and from the north, not a real Italian. (The majority of New York Italian immigrants were from Sicily, like me, and dark.)
I rapped on the door, and it was unlocked for me. Climbing the two flights of stairs, I reached the apartment where he stood waiting. "Welcome, Kyle," he greeted as he handed me a longneck beer. He had already started drinking, I could tell. He led me to the front of the apartment, to the porch and the glider. He seemed proud of the view, even though we were facing the opposite direction and not watching the sunset.
Billy was wearing a worn Giants t-shirt (he'd always been a fan), several sizes too small, revealing his wide shoulders, powerful chest, and toned abs. His dark sweat shorts left nothing to the imagination as they hugged his muscular thighs. He was barefoot. Perhaps he thought summer had come early? His long, recently washed hair was tied in a ponytail, and a gold stud adorned his left ear. His sun-kissed skin was evidence of frequent visits to the tanning salon. He looked good, relaxed, and out of place. He behaved like he owned the city. He was supposed to be on a Malibu beach, but he sauntered like he ruled the metropolis.
Billy was significantly larger than me. The glider couldn't handle his weight. He was likely 6'4" to my 6', and weighed 220 to my 175. His muscles were bulging due to working out at the gym after work. He resembled a construction worker with an athlete's legs.
"So, no family?" I inquired.
"I've dated some but nothing serious. Dad keeps pressuring me for grandchildren. I don't plan on that anytime soon. Fortunately, my sisters are providing him with his grandchildren. A couple of relationships lasted for a few months. Classy women prefer college guys, not construction managers. Despite earning more, I'm not attracted to dim-witted sluts."
"I go to St Martin every winter. Lots of action. I can pretend to be someone else out there. Ladies and gentlemen are everywhere. Orient Beach is clothing-optional. Girls lay out on towels, displaying their breasts as if expecting them to be invaded by the sea, while men stroll along the beach, sporting their erect penises. After high school, I decided I could be bisexual, but only outside my hometown. I can easily pick up one-night stands in the Caribbean. However, I am more cautious at home."
"I started playing football at Colgate, but I wasn't good enough. I joined a fraternity. I loved the parties. I never progressed beyond the second date with anyone. I had a decent academic record, but not enough for the Rhodes Scholarship. I've been working exhaustively, leaving me little time to even use the restroom, let alone date. Since you, what is it, ten years ago?, I've never been with a man." He noticed the longing look to his body, noticing the sway of the shorts as he sat.
It was getting chilly, so Billy suggested we return to the apartment. Before we sat on the sleek leather sofa facing the view, he went inside and brought back more beers. It was warm inside, so I removed my hoodie, exposing my torso. As I did, he caught a glimpse of my chest. This time he sat very close. We gazed out the window for a moment, and a minute later, his arm was around my shoulders. "Are you going to take the initiative? Or should I? I assume you didn't come over just to drink and talk."
I was taken aback. It was ten years ago, and we were much younger and less experienced back then. All we did was masturbate each other. I'm not ready for more than that right now. "Billy, I can't fathom your intentions. Yes, I know where you're headed, but I'm not even in the vehicle yet. It's been a while, and I'm not yet prepared to engage in more than just playful touching."
"I apologize for the misunderstanding. I've been driving down the highway, picking up hitchhikers along the way. However, if that's how you want to initiate things, I'm okay with that." He leaned back and removed his shorts, allowing his erection to stand tall. It seemed like he thought I was referring to our past mutual masturbation sessions, and was ready for a repeat. He was well-endowed, standing at around 8 inches in length and thickness. His skin was dark, with no foreskin. There was already a drop of clear liquid visible on the entrance of his penis. His cock was relatively plain, lacking any distinctive features like a mushroom head, hood, or curve. Instead, it resembled a police baton due to its uniform shape and the prominence of blue veins on the surface.
He began to stroke his member, causing it to further firm up.
"It's your turn, Kyle."
I must not have communicated my intentions clearly. "I wasn't proposing that we masturbate together, Bill. That's something teenagers would do."
"Give it a try. I need some company while I do it. Nothing that occurs in this apartment will leave this place. I've been keeping an eye on you. I know you're curious."
I stayed silent for a moment, examining his statement. I proceeded to drink more beer and relaxed against the cushions. I suppose I considered this option. After all, it had been a while since my last orgasm. I loosened my pants and trousers, exposing my manhood to the air.
"Well, I knew it. Commando-style underwear for you." His remark carried a hint of amusement. "Don't feign ignorance with me, kid."
My own penis was slightly larger than his, sporting a slight upward curve to the right. It was partially hooded. "You make a big deal out of size, yet yours looks massive on you. It's always been called 'your banana' to me." And there was no mistaking the hardness of his penis. He reached over and gripped both our cocks before commencing to stroke them simultaneously. It felt fantastic. The sensation of having another person handle your rod was utterly blissful.
I responded by mirroring his actions, utilizing a mixture of his pre-cum and spit for lubrication.
We were transported back to simpler times, both of us sitting near each other, drinking beers, and playing the game of who could last longer. Even the phrasing was reminiscent of that period.
"I remember now. The two of us, sitting next to one another, sharing brews, and masturbating."
I began frotteurism, sliding our cocks against one another. We remained in close proximity, our cocks just inches apart. He took both our erections and resumed stroking them. His legs extended to allow our genitals to move even closer by pushing against my thighs. He pushed our cocks together, causing them to intertwine just like dicks during frotteurism. He labeled this gesture "docking," a term I'd never used outside of the ferry.
I was reaching my climax and he appeared to be as well. We were both covered in clear pre-cum. When he experienced the urge to stroke, he drew me into his lap, placing my legs to his sides. Seconds later, he pulled me onto him and our lips met. This kissing experience was different from any I'd ever had with a female. It was passionate and more like a wrestling match, featuring frequent eager thrusts of our tongues.
He then removed his shirt and requested that I do the same. I complied, and he began massaging my chest while stimulating my nipples. He pressed my nipples, causing them to harden. He later reclined on the sofa, dragging me along with him.
Now positioned between my legs, he guided his cock under my scrotum and into my butt crack. I was aware that he had performed this act with others before, professionally executing the same seduction technique every time. However, both of us were so aroused that I let it slide. It was within his domain, and he could spunk on his sofa if he desired. This sausage was pleasantly rubbing against my butt. If he wished to cum while indulging my ass, it was certainly fine. I had previously performed similar acts by massaging breasts, and they were quite similar in their sensuousness.
Billy stopped and grabbed my waist, bringing me closer so our chests touched. I could feel his erection pressing against me, the tip almost sliding into my opening. The moment had come so abruptly that I didn't have time to process what was happening. It felt good to be holding and caressing a warm body.
"This is rather uncomfortable, Billy. Let's move on. My long-awaited king is expecting me. You're so hot. I want to show you some tricks," he said, standing up. He moved his arms to support me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling his hard dick at the entrance. He was either going to place me on his erection and have sex right there or carry me like a baby to his bed. Then, suddenly, I panicked. I wasn't ready for intercourse between men. Casual exploration was one thing, but engaging in activities in a partner's bed was a much bigger step. Nothing but a toy or a girl's finger had ever been inside that opening. It might hurt. And even if it didn't, I would be choosing to be a male homosexual.
"Set me down, Billy. I just remembered I promised Mom to take out the garbage. I've got to go."
He released me, and I quickly dressed.
When I arrived at my room, there was a message: "Sorry about last night. I thought you wanted this just as much as I do. Don't be angry. I'd like to be friends again. Would you try again tomorrow? I won't touch you unless you ask. I'll be at Mario's Pizza at 6 if you're interested."
It took me a long time to fall asleep. First, I pleasured myself to calm down. Nothing had interfered with my plans before. What plans? I didn't have a girlfriend. In fact, the only thing my penis had felt in years was my own hand. Was it because I was overworked? Or was it because I liked men and was scared to act on it?
Mom would be leaving within two weeks. I would be back in the city, living alone and working long hours. Did I really want a life like that? I'd known Billy since kindergarten. We didn't need to discuss family histories and resumes before determining if we had a future. Future? Billy wasn't asking for a future. Neither was I. He just wanted some fun. Having sex with a man doesn't make you gay. This is the 21st century, after all; not the Dark Ages. This is New York. Men did men all the time. Welcome to the metrosexual universe.
I replied: "See you at Mario's. No apologies necessary. I misled you last night."
-2-
Mom had planned out my day. I spent it carrying boxes for the church rummage sale and disposing them at the curb. She had also asked me to clean my room, as she would be taking some of her favorite items to Florida. I had informed her that I would only keep the mattress and bed, some end-tables, the kitchenette set, my recliner, and my music equipment. The rest would go. The house was sold, with closing happening in two weeks. I needed to find an apartment if I wanted to avoid sleeping on the streets.
I was exhausted by late Saturday afternoon but excited for a potential reunion with Billy. I chose to wear shorts, a t-shirt, and flip-flops and headed to Mario's Pizza.
We shared almost an entire pizza. Billy then suggested we take the rest to his place to watch a baseball game. However, I knew that wasn't the reason. He wanted to engage in more intimate activities. When I agreed to accompany him, I knew I was telling him that we would both probably rub each other off, potentially suck, and maybe even have sex. He had, after all, bought me dinner just as I had suggested the previous night. If we didn't have intercourse tonight, I was confident I would never see Billy again. In truth, I had already made my decision: I'd warned Mom that I might stay overnight at Billy's if we went past a certain point and had too many drinks. I was going to experience my first male intercourse, either by fucking or getting fucked. We'd simply have to see how things unfolded.
Whilst walking, I carried the box, with his arm around my waist and his digits embedded within the fabric of my trousers. Perhaps he comprehended the situation.
We proceeded in a similar manner to the previous evening, commencing with drinks on the porch during the dimming light of dusk; proceeding with additional brews on the sofa as the match began. He proffered a pair of cigarettes and ignited them both before sliding one toward me. His limb encircled my shoulders, tenderly kneading my nape, deltoids, and pectorals. The mien suggested a casual air, yet his hand elevated the skirt hem and manipulated my nipples. This casual act proved rather stimulating. I observed the damp patch on my shorts. I surmise that I had commenced producing bodily fluids. I peered at Billy, who had recognised the stain and was beaming, despite our side's dismal showing on the baseball field.
He removed his trousers and his sturdy, dark penis bounced upward, striking his abdominal muscles. "'Tis time to recommence, Kyle?" I stripped off my trousers and awaited him. He seized my hand and guided it to his member. He inextricably interlaced his fingers around mine to ensure I grasped it firmly. The sensation proved exhilarating - firmness coupled with softness, heat and moisture, pulsating viability - an improvement upon any domesticated beast. I apprehended his abilities! We commenced stroking in unison, occasionally offering our assessment of a play - favorable or derogatory. I admired the effortless, macho demeanour - the covert semen, concealed beneath the manhood and concealed beneath his palm.
He posed a query, "May I bestow oral gratification?" Upon my consent, I divested my trousers. He supine lunged, took position in front of me, and knelt. An adept hand descended, uncovering the foreskin and exposing the moist tip. When an uncircumcised man presents his penis to another, he feels vulnerable. His lips parted and enclosed the head. I sensed the velvety tongue swirling about, skimming my frenulum. Then he immersed a portion of his throat into my foreskin and stretched it. I assume I emitted a contented sound as his finger stroked my anus. I've utilised sex toys and comprehend what was imminent. However, the sensation of another man's finger permeating my anus granted a novel experience. I believe I moaned ecstatically as he instantly rotated the digit and deepened the penetration.
I gripped his tresses with vigour and exerted pressure, pushing his face into my groin - simultaneously as he activated my prostate and jabbed his digit against the sphincter. I gasped, signalling an approaching release. However, he persisted rather than withdraw. He inserted another digit and thrust deeply. My spasms initiated another eruption of semen, which the heel of his hand directed towards my stomach. I emitted an intense grunting sound. He cautiously receded, allowing his tongue to catch the semen on his lips. He exuded veneration, "Not so dreadful, was it? You possess a scrumptious taste, pal."
Inappropriate? He was jesting. I considered it exceptional - one of the most satisfying experiences I've experienced. Thus, it was my turn to perform oral congress. I advised him to the sofa but suggested that his bedroom would provide greater comfort. However, I espied that "comfort" was not his foremost objective. I followed him into the bedroom, where a vast, fluffy king-sized bed rested upon a sky blue rug. It resembled a floating cumulus amidst the bedroom furnishings. He supinated, placing his hands behind his head and spreading his legs expectantly. His uncut, towering manhood stood erect, clothed in trimmed pubic hair, resembling an exquisite adornment on a highly muscular man. I intended to present him with fellatio, but decided to engage in physical contact first. I longed to feel the hardness of his muscularities across my torso and required him in a subordinate position. I ought to regain the top position, as I was the play caller.
"Remember when we wrested? The vanquished was required to submit his daily dessert to the victor. We were equally matched; often splitting the matches." intervened I.
You're rewriting history, mate. I won every single one, but I let you keep some of your desserts. If I didn't, I was scared you'd stop wrestling. I loved having you in my arms, on top of me, and under my control. As he spoke these words, I jumped on top and immediately had my knees on his shoulders. However, this time my cock wasn't trapped in underwear and it started slapping against his face. The bed was softer than a mat or a carpet. And he had grown stronger. Much stronger.
He raised his legs behind me, high up off the bed, and slammed them down, knocking us both hard on the mattress. This jolted me enough that he pushed me off to the side and was immediately pinning me to the bed. His muscular legs wrapped around mine; his arms went under and around my throat. I was trapped in his embrace. Then he bent down and kissed my lips. I started to shout in surrender—but that was the wrong move. His tongue snaked inside. Our tongues tangled, but he used his height and strength to push his hard dick up and down against my stomach, using the friction of my abs to stroke his cock.
I realized I was powerless. But, I was loving every seconds. I must be extremely easy or horny. I had set the rules. And he had stomached right past them. He had me under his control, and he was going to fuck me on his bed—and I hadn't even been in the apartment for an hour. He moved backward, assessing the situation.
"You're doing alright for a desk jockey. You've got a great bod. Not as good as mine, but nice. And I've always loved that plaid shirt. Every day is like Christmas morning! You get to unwrap a surprise every day, buddy! Look, even better than your quarterback days."
I complained, "I'm not gay, Billy. I've never had man on man sex. And I'm not sure that I'm ready even now."
"So that blow job you let me give you—and enjoyed I think—didn't just happen? Fuck. We've known each other since kindergarten. It's not as though we need to 'get to know each other' and compare family histories before we get in bed. I know you as well as you know yourself. I think you want this, Kyle. But, I don't force anyone. Ask me to take your virginity, or I'll shut down and you can leave." He then leaned back down and played with my nipples. When they were wet, he dragged his thumb and forefinger over them and pinched them. I felt static shoot down to my toes and my cock spasmed, ejecting a few more drops of pre-cum. I wasn't going to leave. He was very persuasive.
He waited for my signal. He sat there grinning ear to ear. I looked into his hungry eyes and stared apprehensively at his rigid and leaking cock. It looked massive, hard, and threatening. It was a loaded gun. Then I decided. I swallowed my fears and lifted my legs, placing them on my shoulders and presenting my ass to Billy.
He whistled appreciation and reached for the lube. His lubed fingers were back on my hole in an instant and before long, he had worked three inside. I was hyperventilating and my ass was rising from the mattress like a hot air balloon. He was thrusting, swirling, crowding my anus. And my resistance was drying up like the Sahara.
"It's inevitable, Kyle. This is happening. But it'll be much better if you welcome me, even beans it." He leaned over, touched my lips with his and whispered again, "Please beg me, Kyle. I'm dying to hear you plead."
Of course, by then, he was finger fucking my ass, my cock was fully awake and rock hard, and my tits were bulging and firm. He knew how to turn me on. Big time. I was a quivering bundle of sexual energy. My whole body was tingling with anticipation.
"It's okay, Billy. Do it. Slide that monster into my hole. I want to feel you deep inside."
"That's not good enough, son. Not even close." So he continued to thrust his fingers, withdraw them, and then do it again. Meanwhile, his lips went down to my nipples and started sucking—hard. He sucked until I was screaming out in pain.
"Please, Billy, fuck me. Put your big dick inside my ass. I want to feel your entire penis in me."
"Just the words I wanted to hear, buddy," He said, grinning slyly. He aligned the head of his cock with mine, leaned in, and pushed. I felt the pain shoot up my spine. Fuck, he's in. It feels like he inserted a bowling ball, but it was a little softer. And I was supposed to take the rest?
"Clench your butthole, Kyle. Try to push me out."
Was he crazy? I wasn't going to push him out. Not now. I was committed. And I wanted this to end with an epic orgasm.
"I'm telling the truth. It'll help."
I pushed hard, the pain eased and he slipped in a few more inches. He stopped again. "Holy crap, you're tight, man. Just the way I like it." I smiled, and raised my ass a bit to bring him even deeper. He took that as a sign to continue. He rocked back, pulled out an inch, then plunged back in deeper. And it reached the prostate. I looked up in amazement.
"Gotcha there, I see. You're going to love this." He began to rock, going deeper with each thrust. Now he was thrusting, and I was leaking like a broken pipe. And I was heating up like a pressure cooker. He felt so good. Maybe, a large penis sliding in and out of my ass was exactly what I needed. He reached down, swiped some pre-cum from my dick head, and stuffed a finger in my mouth. He was feeding me my own pre-cum. Fuck, it wasn't awful tasting.
But it was almost over. He slammed hard and fast. I felt him all the way in and his pubes against my ass. His nostrils widened, and his eyes grew darker. The hair was loose from the ponytail and hanging around his face. His pecs were hardening, and his nipples turned crimson. And the testosterone was pouring from him. He was like a wild bull in heat. Just about to cum. His legs stiffened, and he pushed even deeper. It was time!
I felt it. The electricity began deep in my stomach and then spread to my limbs. I couldn't believe it; I was cumming and hadn't even touched my dick. I shuddered deep and hard, my cock got hard and long, and then it started to squirt, rushing out streams of sticky, hot semen. One after another. Long squirts of thick, white fluid. My whole body was pushing it out. The tingle spread and deepened. My hips thrust up to urge him deeper. My anus tightened around his shaft. And then he let loose. He felt the hot, wet blast. His chest hit mine as he pushed away from me and I automatically pulled my legs back, holding him securely inside me. I didn't want it to end. I had never cum so much and for so long in my life. And the feeling of another living thing inside me was amazing.
He wiggled around, pressing my chest against his, still inside me. But he stayed to make sure I knew he'd claimed my ass. He'd initiated me into male sex. And I loved it. Our hips pressed together, coated in our cum, and the aroma filled the air, making us feel intoxicated. It was addictive. I wanted more as soon as possible.
After a few minutes, he stood up and grabbed a shirt to wipe us down. My chest was plastered, and I started to leak from my ass. His sheets were ruined. But, as he stood up, I looked at him more closely. Shit, he was a handsome guy. Broad shoulders and a chiseled chest met his narrow waist and firm ass. The eight pack was rock hard, the V-lines were pronounced, and his dick waved a semi-erection. That dick was a magical wand. And those thick thighs held a nice bubble butt at a high angle. He had seduced me. I already wanted more.
Then, I realized he was probably trying to control the situation. Billy turned and returned to the TV, saying, "I'll get us each another beer. Let's finish the game."
-3-
A few minutes later, I joined him on the couch. But this time, he relaxed and placed his head in my lap. We watched the screen while my hand rustled through his hair, and his dick brushed my balls from time to time. After the game ended, our team lost again-so what was new?
When it was over, Billy turned off the TV and flipped it over. He rested his head on my lap and placed his arms around my waist. Then, his tongue darted out and washed my penis like it was a lollipop. He clearly enjoyed tasting my cum still coating my shaft and balls. His position invited me. So I reached out and pulled his ass cheeks, feeling the hard muscle beneath. He must have exercised a lot. His crack was smooth and clean. It was what he wanted, obviously. He pushed up into my hand while he sucked harder on my cock. "The lube is on the end table."
He wanted me to use it, so I did. My left hand reached for the tube and applied a generous amount of lube to my right fingers. His legs separated in anticipation. I circled his anus and slid the index finger inside. There it was. The hard, walnut-like prostate. The temple of nerves. I poked it a few times as he groaned in pleasure. Then I added another finger and started to stroke it, first softly, then harder and harder as his moans grew louder and more frequent.
"I think it's time to head back to your room, Billy. I want to do this right." [
Once his mouth had stopped sucking on my cockhead, we both stood up and walked into the next room. But not without stopping in front of the picture window first. We exposed our naked, muscular bodies to the world outside, with our hard dicks in hand. We dared the city to see us, two men challenging the world. The sky was clear, the fog had disappeared revealing a stunning view of the city. I even saw the building where my friend's workplace was, lights still on despite it being late on a Saturday evening. I noticed how our two tall bodies were also slanted at the same angle. I grabbed his hard-on and led the way to the bed. He jumped right onto it, then knelt on all fours, raising his ass towards me.
"Fuck me from behind, Kyle," he said, "I love being fucked that way. Feel free to hold my dick and balls while you're at it."
I approached the bed, admiring his ass. It was covered in soft, blond hair. When I touched it, I felt its soft texture but also the steel muscles beneath. He was tanned everywhere - either from a salon or the beach, I assumed. I applied some lube and my dick into him, slowly popping in and hearing a mumble that I couldn't understand. Nonetheless, I continued my actions, pushing in until I was inside him. "I wish I had a hood too," he said, appreciating the feeling.
I started moving back and forth, and every time, the rolled hood would rub against his balls. He moaned in pleasure with each thrust. I started massaging his balls with one hand, while the other grabbed his shaft, applying pressure and speed. I was about to cum again, yet I suddenly had a brilliant idea - I desired to cum together with him. So, I gathered my strength and applied more pressure, going straight to his prostate with each stroke and hitting the bottom. "Fuck me harder, Kyle. Show me who's in charge by fucking me harder," he moaned loudly.
I really wanted to give him what he wanted, so I pumped faster, getting closer to my orgasm. I shouted loudly, "I'm going to cum! Feel free to give up, boy."
His reply surprised me. "Yes, sir."
As soon as my dick hit the trifecta, we both had our moments of spasming, shooting out our semen. I tried to pull out, but he pulled me towards him, wanting me to remain inside. I slid my hand over to his face and he licked up my cum like a cat licks milk. The sexual pleasure was immense, making me wonder whether I was the one thinking about it or him.
Later that day, I woke up in Billy's bed. There was a large hand on my morning wood, holding the hood down. As I surveyed my surroundings, I realized a guy was spooning me, his dick nestled between my buttocks, snoring softly. His handsome smile looked so natural that I couldn't get enough of it. I glanced at the sun, realizing it was getting late. Mom had planned on taking me to mass before she left for Florida.
Knowing she'd expect me to accompany her and go to confession, I hopped out of bed and took a shower. Recalling the tasks she had set for me, I dressed and wrote a note: "I'm going to watch a football match, but don't worry, I'll bring the beverages this time. Text me if you have other plans." Then I tiptoed out of his apartment.
In the morning, I found myself asleep in my friend's bed. His giant hand was still holding my morning arousal. Before I could fully comprehend the situation, I noticed he was snoring quietly. My eyes fell around the room and spotted his face, revealing the broadest smile I've ever seen on anyone. I analyzed the time and noticed it was past the appropriate time for mass at our church. I got up for a shower, knowing I'd have to explain my absence to my mother. She had hoped to see "her little boy" kneeling beside her, but instead, she'd have to imagine me spending the night with a guy, not a girl. She still wanted me to get married, even though she had relaxed her expectations. I didn't want to disappoint her, but, at the same time, I wasn't moving back to the city when she would head to Florida. This was the beginning of a confusing dilemma to sort out.
-4-
When I woke up on Sunday, I was in Billy's bed. I eyed a large hand holding my arousal and then moved on to observe my sleeping companion. Being in bed with a guy who was sleeping made me uneasy. I noticed the hand fisting my morning wood, the hood kept down, and the stunning smile on his face which added to the sight. The sun shone, indicating it was getting close to noon. I had warned Mom that I might not make it home that Sunday. She also wanted to attend the last mass at St. Anne's - a place where I'd dream about when thinking of her in the future. She harbored the hope that one day, I'd get married and take her with me.
I started to move gently to get out of the bed, but he rolled over, blocking my path. I wrote a note: 'I'm going to watch a game and will bring the beers that time. Text me if you have any changes to plan.' I slipped out quietly. Mom would understand, and I'd answer all her questions in the right way after asking for forgiveness. I left his apartment feeling tingly and committed to figuring out how to manage this situation for a few more weeks and possibly months. A new chapter in my life was beginning.
Mom was full of queries, but I dismissed them with the comment that we were running late and that I had to get ready. Hence, shortly after, we took our seats for the 10 am Mass - a service she had attended for over thirty years, always in the same position. As usual, it was a dreary sermon - implying that no one had actually listened when the Gospel was read a couple of moments before. Afterwards, we stayed for coffee alongside her friends who were all wishing her well in her retirement and trying to be thorough matches for her spinster daughters.
Our typical schedule was to have a swift meal at home. Later, she'd prepare a roast for a five pm supper. I had different plans for later. So, I persuaded her into a large brunch - and even invited two of her acquaintances to join us - essentially a farewell event. They'd disinterest her, and she wouldn't dare inquire about the previous night in front of "outsiders" - people she knew for many years.
We got home around 2, and I rapidly changed into summer attire once more. Then I stated I was heading over to watch the game with a friend and enquired if there was anything she required before I left. "No dinner for me tonight, Mom. We'll consume plenty of snacks. And that brunch consumed all my calories for the day. I won't be home late." And I departed before she could ask any more.
Billy was waiting, clothed as he had the last day. He embraced me, a strong hug, and his mouth sought mine. We were about to pick up where we had left off. However, I had determined that this would be a significant weekend. I was going to either cut off Billy and search for a female companion - or admit that I identified as bi, perhaps even gay. And Billy and I would grow into outstanding friends again. With advantages.
Straight away, it became apparent that Billy had already made his choice. His hands were moving my buttocks, and his unsheathed penis was peeking above his waistband as we hugged.
I handed him the six pack, which necessitated him to relinquish my buttocks and push me back from the landing into the apartment. I then genuinely observed the apartment surroundings. Although the exterior and the woodwork demonstrated over a century of age, it had been completely modernizied. New kitchen. Modern manly furniture. Small dining table and chairs. Numerous electronics. And two bedrooms - one of which we had spent time in. The view was fantastic. The sun was setting behind the triple-decker, but reflected off the windowed buildings just across the river. It was like watching a sun-reflector. The Hudson was brutal today, yet deep blue beneath the tiny waves. Various sailboats and at least as many small tourist ships were heading around Manhattan. In the distant right, gleamed the majestic Statue of Liberty.
As I stood admiring the scenery, he approached from behind and placed his arms around me, wedged his face in my nape, and pulled me into him. One hand was undoing my shorts, reaching inside to fondle my erection, which was quickly hard. He abruptly disengaged me and directed me to the sofa. Then, he switched on the game. "I exercised this morning. It felt very satisfying. And how about you?"
"Took Mom to church, and I confessed our misdeeds and sought forgiveness." I was aware that Billy had formerly been Catholic, but after his father divorced, that was the end of the church attendance.
"They have confessions on Sundays now? I suppose you didn't offer too many details - or the sinners?"
"Not really. No Sunday confessions. And I didn't confess any sin. What we did, Billy, is not a sin. Nothing that feels so natural and so good could be sinful. If you recall your Sunday School lessons, you'd know that."
"What church did you go to, son? I've heard the fiery speeches of Catholic priests in this diocese. And the complete denunciation of the indecent homosexual way of life."
"I wouldn't know about that. To be precise, until yesterday, I hadn't contemplated such stuff. But you pulsated through me yesterday, Billy. I'm not yet composed enough to even ponder what needs to be considered. Does that make sense?"
"No, it doesn't. So far as you're up for what I'm up for this afternoon, it doesn't matter to me. I'm slightly a today kind of person."
"Pacify your anxieties, lad. I've contemplated a bit. And I don't have any regrets. Only anticipations ..." And with those words, I pulled him toward me and French kissed him deeply as my hand started to explore inside his open fly.
"We might need to clear some things up first. You didn't use a condom yesterday, right? Should I be concerned? I didn't either, but I've only been with a few women, and I've always used one. I don't want an unplanned pregnancy to ruin my youth."
"Don't worry, I'm safe. I've been with just a few partners. We've both been tested. Wearing condoms isn't my thing, but I've used them when necessary. What's the next question?"
"Is there someone special - male or female - in your life right now?"
"Nope. Move on to the next question."
"Have your parents found out about your sexual orientation?"
"Nah. By the way, are you gay?"
"Sort of. We'll get to that later. Now, about my family. My mom abandoned us after the divorce. I haven't heard from her in about 10 years. My dad doesn't know. He'll probably never find out. He's seriously ill with cancer. We moved him to Hospice a month ago because it was getting harder to get his pain medication. He was in a lot of pain. My brother and I decided it was time. We don't get along and rarely speak to each other. My dad was the connection between us. My brother runs the family trucking business that provides materials for most major projects in the city. My dad promoted my brother to head of the transportation division last year. I'm meant to take over the contracting side when he passes away, but I'm not eager for it. I like leading a team and going home at night. I don't need the stress of managing a company, bidding on jobs, finances, payroll, and inspections - and bribes. He handled all that. I'm just starting to learn."
"He'll never find out." Billy winced, realizing the cancer would end his father's life before he could reveal his secret.
"And to answer your question, I think I'm gay - and I'm confident of it when I'm with you, Kyle. I've been in love with you for over a decade, but I didn't realize it until now."
"How can you be in charge of projects with all those macho guys? Some of them must be homophobes."
"They don't know. They'd never suspect that a guy like me with a muscular build could be gay. I've never mentioned it."
"And how about you? What's going on with your life?"
"My father passed away last year. My mom will be moving to Florida to join my sisters, who already have several grandchildren. She's happy. She's pretty naive and wouldn't guess that I'm in a relationship with a man.
"What do you think of your job at F&B? I assumed you liked it because you've held entry-level roles for four years."
"The hours are horrible, but the work is usually interesting. The salary is very good. And I'm supposed to become a partner within five to six years, assuming the firm's rules don't change. But, it's my whole life. Along with working out and helping my mom move, I haven't had a date in a year. Just dining with a coworker doesn't really count. I'll be searching for a roommate next week to save on rent. I won't have time to find one until autumn."
"And before yesterday, I never realized I might be gay."
"Not at all? Really? Even with our mutual masturbation sessions in high school?"
"You're forgetting. I'm Catholic. Anything related to sex - even thinking about it - is a sin. I believed this for years. The clergy's sexual abuse of children shattered that belief. The priests were forbidding us from doing what they were doing while protecting their own actions. I stopped believing in angels that would stop me from having sex. I'm leaving the church as soon as my mother moves to Florida."
"Billy, you've awakened a buried desire in me. I was practically celibate until you." Pause for a moment as I examined your body. "I want you to fuck me right now. I also want to fuck you. If your guardian angel wants to watch, that's fine with me. I'm not ashamed of my body, my cock, or my skills. I'm an exhibitionist when I'm on the beach or in my picture window."
"I can assure you that you're turning me on more than my angel. I'll be happy to share my body with you. If your angel wants to watch, that's fine by me. I'm not hiding my body, my cock, or my sexual abilities."
"I can testify to that. I love your body. And your cock is talented."
Let's move this to my bedroom? Yesterday was about seduction. Today, I'm all about making love. If you weren't convinced you're gay after last night, you will be tonight.
We turned off the TV, the game was barely interesting anyway. We stripped and climbed into his bed. He'd changed the sheets. He stretched out on his back and motioned for me to join him. I was so eager to feel our bodies pressed together. I went straight for his mouth and engaged in a wrestling match with his tongue, allowing him to do the same with mine. All the while, I caressed his breasts, and he massaged my ass. It was getting hotter by the second.
After a few minutes, he flipped me over and stretched out on top of me. I spread my legs and he slid inside. We were ready to take off. He got settled in the saddle. It felt fantastic.
He propped himself up on his elbows and looked into my eyes. I think I saw something soft, maybe even a hint of love. He lowered himself to his knees and my calves fell to his shoulders. His tongue then licked the crevice and the rim, then curling, plunged into me. I never would've thought it was sexy before. But this shock of electricity erased all my ancient inhibitions. It was pleasurable. Very, very pleasurable! So this is what eating is all about. His hands lifted me up, pinning me in place with a pillow. Then he bent, my calves fell to his shoulders, and his tongue probed deeper.
"Billy, it's too much. I'm going to cum. I need you inside."
"Not so fast, my dear." His hand wrapped around my dick and formed a ring with his thumb and forefinger. I believe he pushed the cum back into my balls. My dick wilted. But, it didn't take long before I felt the bulbous head of his dick knocking on my opening.
"Yes." I screamed. "I'm ready. Enter me. Please."
This time he slipped in slowly, making sure to stimulate my prostate. But he continued to move, sliding and hammering as he gazed into my eyes. We mirrored each other's immense joy. The pleasure of a same-sex experience. The physicality only two men can achieve.
Suddenly, he cursed under his breath and began to pound furiously. He'd reached a point of no return. And we both exploded, once more. I felt his muscular spasms and matched them with my own. And my legs instinctively dropped, holding him closer to me. He not going anywhere anytime soon. I needed him inside. I needed his cum.
Before long, he collapsed on top of me and we writhed in my own cum. His breath was heavy, like a bull. He had surrendered to my scent. Everything I'd thought about the penetration and domination was turned on its head. When you take a woman, you get off - she then owns you. You want it again - and you're only going to get it if you do as she wants.
Yes, he'd penetrated, and he'd cum inside me... But that meant I owned a vital part of him - his cum, his seed, his future. He'd fucked me, and I'd taken more from him than he'd ever given or revealed about himself. He was spent. He'd filled me, but in doing so, he'd become mine. That cock was mine. That body was mine. He'd do anything I wanted for another taste. But with a man, we could both experience it. We could both feel this good.
His head dropped to my shoulder, and my arms found his luxurious blonde hair. A few minutes later, I wrapped my arms around his muscular ass. Yep, that was mine.
This was the first time I truly understood the essence of being gay and a power bottom.
After a while, we went back to the game - this time both of us were naked, munching on snacks and drinking the IPAs I had brought. From time to time, he would reach over and touch my dick, and I would answer by cupping his balls and rolling them between my fingers. We had become very comfortable with each other.
During one of the frequent commercial breaks, he asked me about my plans - specifically where I planned to move in a couple of weeks. I replied honestly that I hadn't really looked yet, but intended to start searching the next day - as long as the partners didn't mind giving me a few hours to do so. He fell silent and thought for a while.
Then he started talking. "There's a condo complex that my dad built a few years back in Lower Manhattan. It's located on the Hudson side of the WTC complex - 1 Westway Tower. He purchased a small one-bedroom there. It's been rented for a while now, but recently we received notice that the tenant will not be renewing their lease. It ends on June 30 - in three weeks. Interested?"
"I'm not familiar with this building, but with that address, I doubt I could afford it."
"It's a pretty small place. I think we can work something out - as long as you agree to one condition."
"It's New York, right? So there's always a 'favor' involved, right? You jerk off my dick, and I'll jerk off yours!"
"What I want is for you to become my advisor once my dad passes away. The business is quite large, and I don't like the current lawyers. My dad did almost everything on his own. So we only have a few managers, who are all his age or older and his friends. They've always treated me like I'm an incompetent child. I'd like some help with the administrative work. But, I want someone I trust. Will you help me?"
"I'm sure we can work something out."
"Here's another thing. I'm a very demanding client. I expect my personal lawyer to be available for consultation 24/7 - and they have to make house calls, particularly on weekends."
"Billy, I don't know how much leeway I can get from the firm. They tend to frown on young associates bringing in clients. Maybe we can work out something. I'd like to try."
"If the firm is against it, then they can go to hell. I know we can give you an offer you can't refuse. Then I'll be your boss. I'd like that. According to my dad, we're one of the largest contractor clients in the city. Any firm would be happy to have us as clients - unless they're scared to get their shoes dirty. So... deal?"
As he was speaking those last words, one hand was stroking my dick while the other was playing with my balls. "Yeah, deal. Am I really out of options? You hold my future in your hands right now."
"Actually, you don't have many choices. I'm used to getting what I want - and you've learned that in the past 24 hours. I've heard that contracts need to be signed, sealed, and delivered. I'm still waiting for your 'delivery,' darling."
The game ended, and we won. I knew that we had just witnessed a good omen.
I got up and led Billy to bed. I figured it was time to deliver.
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