Disclaimer: This story is intended for a mature male audience. It contains reference to man/man, man/boy and boy/boy sex. It also contains an act of incest. If this is not to your liking, or you are under age twenty-one, or you are in anyway offended by the male homosexual experience, please find another site. Thank you.
BEHAVIORAL PROBLEMS
When I dropped out of college in my sophomore year, I was a real bum. I had squandered my chance at a good education and I was turned loose to face a rather hostile world completely ill equipped.
It isn't as if my parents didn't try to help me. Oh, they tried all right! Their care and concern worked for my brother - he's a surgeon - and it worked for my sister - she's a veterinarian. They tried everything in their power to help me come to terms with my talents and abilities - shrinks, gurus - you name it, they tried it. They knew I was a tough case and, lucky for me, they never gave up.
I grew up in the affluent suburbs of western New Jersey, but as all bums eventually do, I gravitated to New York City. I took various jobs to earn some necessary money; Manhattan is a very expensive place to hang out. I would crash with friends, casual acquaintances or one night stands as often as possible. Some of my high school buddies had apartments in the city and I would also scrounge off of them.
I finally decided to get a steady job; it was a matter of increasing necessity. My choice was washing dishes and bussing tables in an incredibly dingy, greasy spoon restaurant and club on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. It was the area of Manhattan known as "Alphabet City", because the names of the four main north/south avenues are the first four letters of the alphabet. This was before the area was completely gentrified - it was still a slum then not converted tenement apartments selling for hundreds of thousands of dollars.
I was lucky to get this job because things were rough at the low end of the pay scale and the competition was surprisingly tough. I knew that I had to show my father that I was able to support myself and be independent. I was a disappointment to him and my mom, but he also realized that because I was the youngest child and was pampered and coddled all my life, that he and my mom had a great deal to do about how I turned out.
After six months or so of toting dishes and assorted other shit in and out of the kitchen, the head cook (I refrain from calling him a chef because that word connotes certain culinary skills and creativity that he did not possess) had me start working the grill. He said I was reliable (I showed up when I was supposed to); he had noticed that I was able to cook very well when I prepared my own meals. The biggest compensation of working in this particular place was that I got my meals for free, and they let me cook them myself when I demonstrated that I knew my way around a kitchen. I had always loved to cook. I did a lot of it at home, especially after my mother discovered my culinary talent. She would have me cook for some of her dinner parties and they always got rave reviews.
So I eventually became the grill chef and was churning out burgers, grilled chicken, etc. by the carload, especially late at night when the dance club part of the operation was in full swing. I enjoyed the work -- it was hard and not too rewarding, but it kept me occupied and the time really flew by. I also kept me from sitting around my very small apartment and feeling sorry for myself; I was constantly bemoaning the fact that I lacked a suitable partner to share my life. I would work the long hours and then sleep until it was time to return to work.
In early June I arrived for work and found a sign on the door that the place was closed. The employees had been given absolutely no warning. I went around to the back entrance and found Luke, the head cook. He was packing up his personal stuff.
"What's happened, Luke?" I asked.
He looked at me with tears in his eyes. "Place's been sold. New owners takin' over tomorra."
"God! That was fast!"
"Yup! Didn't give us no warnin' or nothin'."
"Who are these new people?"
"Don't know. Jus' know they're agonna modernize the joint and make it real ritzy." He said the word "ritzy" with more than a little sarcasm in his voice.
I thought I'd better get my stuff out too, so I went to my locker and started packing up my belongings. As I turned to leave, a very well dressed man, whom I would guess was in his mid-thirties, walked into the locker room.
"Are you Kyle Garrison?" he asked is a soft voice.
"Yes I am," I answered.
"I'm Quinn Flanagan. I'm a partner in the new ownership of this place." We shook hands and said our pleasantries. He looked me over a bit and I did the same with him. The wedding ring on his left hand warned me away.
"We're going to gut this monstrosity," he said.
"Well, it can sure stand a good gutting," I replied with a chuckle in my voice.
"We're going to put in a very fine restaurant -- very upscale. Going to hire a top chef and come up with a really innovative menu."
"Sounds interesting," I said noncommittally as I began moving towards the door.
"In the late evening, after 11PM, we will turn it into a dance club for five hours."
"Sounds swell," I noted with a little trace of bitterness in my voice.
I was ready to leave and start looking for new employment. Flanagan turned to me. "Kyle -- may I call you Kyle?" I nodded. "Kyle, we would like you to stay on as the grill chef and also to work as a sous chef under the new man we're going to hire."
"What?"
"I think you heard me correctly. We want you to stay. And we are willing to pay you your regular salary when we're closed for about three months. The only proviso is that you sign a two-year contract promising to return when we reopen. There will also be a nice pay increase when we reopen." I could not believe what I was hearing. They were going to pay me not to work for three months! This was heaven -- or so it seemed at the time. It would mean that I would be on paid holiday for the entire summer.
I had real difficulty replying. I think I stammered something like okay and we shook hands. He told me to take anything that I thought I would need in the future, gave me his card, and asked me to call his office in two days to set up an appointment for the legal matters.
When I received the legal paperwork, I went to see my father. As an attorney I trusted him; as a father, well, that's another story ... He looked them over carefully and pronounced it a good deal. He noted that after one year I would own five percent of the place, which I thought, was a very good deal. He congratulated me on rising fast in the very competitive world of restaurant cooking in Manhattan. I was pleased with his remarks and told him I would invite the whole family to the opening.
That summer was absolutely glorious if one likes nothing to do. Until the end of June I basically stayed in Manhattan, catching up on movies and Broadway shows I had missed. I would occasionally go down to the Jersey shore and stay with some friends. It was nothing serious, these were actually just friends. I have to admit that there was some sex during those weekends but it was just sex, nothing really important.
The entire month of July I spent at mom and dad's cabin in the Adirondack Mountains in northern New York. My folks called it a cabin, but in actuality it was a very large home. It had four bedrooms, large living areas and a substantial terrace overlooking a lake. There was a dock for the obligatory boat and a tennis court. It was everything that money could buy in an escape home. The month was extremely relaxing, almost to the point of inducing a comatose state. My brother and sister and their families visited for some weeks, but it was basically battery recharging time. Of course, it was total abstinence except for some occasional handwork.
I was certainly happy that July was calm because August was an unending cycle of partying and sex. I spent the full month on Fire Island and it was just wild. I stayed with a former teacher and irregular lover of mine and he was very generous in not charging me any rent - just the occasional purchase of groceries. He was a writer and a very good one at that; he's had a few best sellers. We were still good friends and I got along very well with his current lover.
The Saturday night of my second week there we were invited to a fabulous party at the home of a leading choreographer. He owned what is known in the area as "The Big House" because of its enormous size. It was a really stupendous gathering, with many noted celebrities there (I won't "out" anyone here), two different rock bands, a DJ, an open bar and a buffet table that would be the envy of a great restaurant.
After getting myself a brew and dancing a bit with some acquaintances, I was standing on the enormous deck watching the waves crashing against the shore; suddenly I heard my name being called.
"Kyle! Kyle Garrison." I turned and was confronted by none other than Quinn Flanagan.
"Quinn! What the hell are you doing here?" He gave me a big hug that I happily returned.
"Kyle it's great to see you! I didn't think I'd know anyone here." A younger man, tall, blonde and very ascetic looking, accompanied Quinn. "Kyle, I'd like you to meet my lifetime partner Devon Harris. Devon, this is Kyle Garrison, one of the chefs at our new place." I shook the extended hand of this very beautiful young man; he looked to be in his mid-twenties and quite a bit younger than Quinn. "Devon's brother Robert is the lead singer of one of the groups playing here tonight."
"That's great!" I said. "I'll make sure to listen closely."
Devon left to get some beers, but not before giving me an incredibly gorgeous smile. "He's beautiful, isn't he?" Quinn asked after Devon had left.
"Extremely!" I replied. "So Devon's the reason for the wedding band, huh?"
"That's it! We've been lovers for about two years now and we had our commitment ceremony just before my group bought the restaurant." Quinn came close to me and whispered in my ear, "Believe it or not, his brother's even cuter." He gave me a big smile and nodded his head. "But Devon is my life and my love."
"What's he do?"
"Believe it or not he designs restaurant interiors." We both laughed. "He's an absolute genius! Really! He has already designed four in the New York City area and ours will be his fifth. It's coming along magnificently. I think you are going to be stunned when you see how great that old place is going to look."
"I can't wait!"
"I expect the interior will be finished by Labor Day."
"Does that include the kitchen?"
"The kitchen's already done, and it's just marvelous! The new chef has already tried it out and pronounced it wonderful."
"Tell me something, Quinn."
"Sure."
I paused and got a very serious look on my face. "What kind of restaurant is it? What the fuck are we going to be cookin'?"
He completely broke up. Through his laughter he said, "Basically it'll be Northern Italian with more than a helping of contemporary American." He slapped me on the back. "You're right! I never told you!" He continued to laugh.
Devon came back with three beers and said, "They're ready to go on. That Robert's group, Behavioral Problems up on the platform."
We all strolled into the big group room to listen to the band. When I saw Robert Harris I had to catch my breath. He was stunning, absolutely stunning! I know it was love at first sight, something I did not believe in before that moment. Of course, it was only a one way love affair right now, but I hoped to remedy that situation very soon.
Robert Harris was as tall as his brother was and as slender. He had a magnificently boyish face that looked to be hairless; he had very, very long straight blonde hair that came down almost to his waist. His incredibly hairless chest (he was stripped to the waist) and slender torso entranced me. He had just a slight dusting of hair in his armpits (when he threw his arms in the air I was mesmerized by his armpits). He wore tight jeans (ripped in all the right places, of course) and showed a decent package. The top of his underpants showed above the top of his jeans; I was sure he was wearing boxers. Robert's singing voice was excellent (no screaming or screeching, but real solid singing) and his movements on stage were extremely graceful. The total picture he presented was one of great beauty, talent and confidence. My cock indicated to me the depths of my feeling about Robert Harris from the moment I first saw him. When his music began, my brain also put me ! on notice. I was in love.
The music his group played was sort of head banging rock but with more than a small helping of folk. Yes, folk! It was like the Ramones meet Pete Seeger. It was good; it was very good and I loved every note of it. Most of the people there were of the same opinion. The four-man group included a very good drummer, two excellent guitarists and Robert, who sang and also played the keyboard.
Their first set ran about forty minutes and when they ended it a very enthusiastic crowd mobbed them. Stepping off the platform, Robert and the other band members were immediately surrounded by a sea of people patting them on the back and hugging them. Devon came to their rescue, throwing jackets over the four teenagers. They were dripping perspiration and subject to a chill in the cool evening air.
I got myself another beer and grabbed an unoccupied bench on the deck. I sat quietly sipping my drink and musing about myself (my favorite subject in those days) again, where my life of twenty-three years had led me ... and I was certainly thinking about Robert Harris. I kept seeing his beautiful face and body floating in the space above the deck. Devon Harris suddenly interrupted my reveries.
"Excuse me Kyle, but I thought you'd like to meet my brother, Robert. Robert, this is Kyle Garrison, one of the chefs at Quinn's new restaurant."
I stood up, trying to clear the cobwebs from my addled brain and totally overcome by the two gorgeous creatures in front of me. I shook Robert's extended hand and held it for more than a few seconds. We looked into each other's eyes, then he looked down at the deck.
"I'll leave the two of you together. I've gotta be getting back to Quinn," Devon said and slowly walked away.
"Please sit down," I said softly to Robert. "You must be totally exhausted after that set."
"Yeah, I am pretty tired." He paused and looked at me. "But I knew I wanted to meet you."
"Thanks. I was very anxious to meet you." I slowly took his hand and held it in both of mine. "Very anxious." We Just looked at each other for a few minutes. "Can I get you something to eat or drink?"
"Okay, but only if you're having something."
"Okay, I will." We walked to where a huge buffet was set up with everything from sushi to lasagna. I took some chicken teriyaki and sushi while Robert took some salad and California maki roll. We both grabbed a bottle of Evian.
"Vegetarian," he said while looking at me shyly.
We seated ourselves and ate quietly. That is, our mouths were quiet (except for the crunching) but our eyes spoke volumes. At least that was the way I was reading things. While my eyes were busy soaking up the wonderful sight in front of me, my mind was trying to figure out how I was going to broach the subject of the two of us getting together. I unobtrusively put my hand on one of his that was resting on the table.
"I really enjoyed your music, Robert. It was a most unusual mix."
"It is. Lots of people don't like it. They find it too head banging if they like folk and too folk if they like the hard rock stuff. But we've been playing it for a while and we like it, which is the most important thing."
"How long you guy been playing?"
"Since we were all kids in grade school."
"School chums, huh?"
Yeah, since the sixth grade."
"How did you get the name Behavioral Problems?"
"Oh, that's funny. Our old name was FGFBBFG."
"What?" I was totally confused.
"Yeah, FGFBBFG. Four Guys From Behind Benny's Father's Garage." We both laughed. "Then, when we started to play serious gigs we knew we need a serious name. Tommy was taking a psychology course and he like that part of the book so that's the name."
"You guys go to college together?"
"Three of us do. We go to C.W. Post. The fourth, Fallon, goes to Hofstra."
"What are you majoring in, Robert?"
"Guess!"
"Uh, I'd say, offhand, music!"
"Right!"
I hesitated, then asked, "How old are you, Robert?"
"I'm nineteen," he said bashfully.
"A nice age." I hesitated again, screwed up my courage and said, "Robert, I'm going to be very honest with you." Th smile immediately left his face; I think he knew what I was going to say. "My brain has been going crazy from the first time I first saw and heard you on that stage. I am extremely .. attracted to you. I'm sure you've heard this from a ton of guys, because you are so fucking good looking. But I am really drawn to you ... and would like to get to know you better. I also think that you are a little bit drawn to me."
"There's nothing I'd like more than to get to know you better. I'm certainly attracted to you too, Kyle." He faltered for a second and I noticed tears coming to his eyes. "But I have had some--some very bad, uh, times, uh, relationships in the last, er, few, uh, years and I don't ... know if, er, if I'm emotionally ready ... to take on another one. I think I'm much better off staying ... by myself. I'm so sorry, Kyle."
He stood up quickly, but I grabbed one of his hands with both of mine. "Don't leave me here hanging like this, Robert. Speak to Me! Please!" I begged.
"I can't. I just c--c--c--can't!" He started crying, pulled his hand from mine and walked quickly away.
I was left in complete turmoil. I felt like crying myself. I put my head in my hands and shook it slowly. "Another fuck up!" I said to myself.
"Kyle?" I heard Quinn calling me. I picked up my head and Quinn sat down opposite me. "Kyle, what happened?"
"Oh, I just fucked up again, Quinn. This time with Robert!" I was beginning to tear up and I really didn't feel like talking to anyone; self-loathing was uppermost in my mind now.
"How'd you fuck up with Robert?"
"I came on to him too strongly and he just ran away."
"I knew something was up. He ran up to Devon and pulled him away."
We just looked at each other for a few minutes, each wanting to speak, but each deciding not to. Finally, Quinn began. "Kyle, it's nothing you did. I'm sure! Robert has had some very unfortunate ... sexual, uh, incidents in the last year or so, and he is feeling very, very vulnerable. I don't know the details and Devon won't tell me. But I know it isn't you. Please believe that, okay?"
"Okay, fine. It isn't me," I said sarcastically.
"Kyle, why don't you want to believe me?" Quinn said emphatically.
"Because I've been striking out with guy after guy for the last three years, that's why! My life has been one flop relationship after another. Oh, we go out, we have sex and all and I think its all right but after a few follow-up dates I'm completely forgotten: dropped like a diseased person -- like a real zero. At least Robert had the decency to say `No Thanks' before we even got anywhere."
"Kyle, I'm telling you it's not your fault!"
I vacillated a bit. "I'm sorry but I can't agree with you, Quinn. And I honestly think I know what's wrong. People are able to see my desperation; it's like flop sweat all over my forehead. I'm looking for a long term, meaningful relationship. Nobody wants that. The minute I bring up the subject of living together, I get the fuck-off indicator. People can read me like a book; I have the words `Desperate Man' tattooed on my face."
"That's what I wanted and I was so fortunate to find Devon. I'm sure you'll find someone, Kyle. Remember, you've got a great job now!" We both smiled.
Just then Devon came over to the table. He looked totally miserable. His eyes were red and his face was flushed. He squatted down beside me and leaned in towards me. I immediately panicked. I thought he was going to beat the shit out of me or do something else equally awful! Instead he spoke softly in my ear. "Kyle, can we go for a walk on the beach. I must talk to you."
"Sure," I said and stood up. Quinn also rose and Devon whispered something to him and Quinn nodded. Devon gave me a small smile and we walked out to the beach.
We went about one hundred yards from the house, but we could clearly hear the group playing. There was a full moon that night and a sea breeze coming off the ocean. We found a dune and sat down.
Devon started talking in a very deliberate manner. He looked at me and gave me a wan smile. "First, Robert wants me to apologize for his erratic and cloddish behavior. He is feeling a lot of pressure tonight because he knows that there are a few record producers here. It could be a big break for the band."
"Tell Robert I understand," I said rather stiffly. "And I wish him and the band good luck; they are very talented and deserve it."
"Thanks, I'll tell him. Second, let me tell you something about me and Robert. We come from a very, very fucked up family. There are six of us kids, all boys; Robert is the youngest and I'm number four. Mom and dad both hit the sauce pretty hard and we had a fuckin' rotten time growing up. When Robert was six and I was twelve the folks split up. The oldest three went with dad and the youngest three kept with mom. . By the way, number five was Ted who was two years younger than me; he died in a motorcycle accident a few years ago." Devon paused here and wiped his eyes. "Anyway, we stayed with mom and she tried to raise us right. She did a pretty fuckin' lousy job of it. It was a real hand to mouth existence. The three of us had to sleep in one bed and, of course, the three of us had sex together.
"We became very good at it. We worked on all different combinations. When Ted and me both passed puberty, we would both fuck Robert's ass and he loved it. We had a great old time." He laughed slightly at this recalled memory. "Anyway, by the time Robert reached puberty both Ted and me were out of the house. I was in college and I don't know where Ted went when he dropped out of high school. I would see Robert on most weekends and he seemed to be getting shyer and shyer and more and more moody. The only time he would let go and open up was when he was performing with the band. In front of an audience, he was really dynamite!
"Those guys in the band are great together and they really love each other. I didn't know the sexual orientation of the other three of `em, but I just assumed that they were foolin' around a bit. Why not? But Robert seemed to become more and more withdrawn. One weekend I asked him what was wrong. At first he said nothing, but after some real prodding, he opened up a bit. He told me that he was very ashamed of his cock and balls -- his genitals -- and he began to weep. I couldn't believe this because all of us boys had big cocks - at least seven inches long and pretty thick. And we all had real low-hangers. I asked for more details about his genitals and he told me he had a real small dick; in fact he called it a 'dickie'. The guys in gym were making his life a living hell; even some of the girls were knowledgeable of his condition and making sarcastic remarks to him. Fuckin' bitches!
"I asked if I could see his genitals, and he immediately shook his head and started to leave the room. I persisted - I told him I wanted to help him and he lowered his jeans. He was wearing a pair of baggy boxers and he began to lower them, too. When he got them to the top of his knees I was able to see his package. My first reaction was 'My God! Did Robert get short changed or what?' His cock was very small, only about one-inch long soft. However, he definitely had the family low hangin' balls. His sac and balls hung down a good four plus inches. I was certainly beginning to feel sorry him because he really looked a bit weird. Here he was with these enormous balls and almost no cock. It looked like it had been cut off."
Robert paused here, looked at me and put his hand on my knee. "Kyle, I don't know exactly how to say this, so bear with me, okay?
"Absolutely," I said while nodding my head.
"Robert is a wonderful person. He's so loving and so giving. He's the nicest person I know; and I'm not saying this just because he's my kid brother. He's had a real fucked up life until now. Things are starting to turn around. The band has given him something to work and live for, and an outlet for his real creative energies. What he really needs is someone ... to love -- and to love him in return." Devon could not hold back his tears any longer and started blubbering at this point. He was really breaking up. "I'm sorry, Kyle. I love him so much. I love him so fuckin' much!"
"I understand, Devon. I understand," I said soothingly as I rubbed his hand that was on my knee.
We sat quietly while Devon calmed down. I was listening to the combinations of the waves crashing on the shore, the wind and the sound of the rock band playing up at "The Big House." My mind was flooded with conflicting thoughts and emotions. "Am I the one to love him? Am I the person who can properly provide Robert with the love and stability he needs? Shit, I need love and stability in my life, too! How can one emotional cripple help another? On the other hand, maybe that is what we both need - we can compliment each other. I have found some stability in my work, thank God! But I need stability in a ongoing relationship, also. Maybe Robert can provide that. Christ, I do love him! I love him even more now that I know about his fucked up life. People insensitive to his physical problem have hurt him while my life has been in turmoil by people unfeeling to my need to find a sustained relationship. I'm sure he's the one for me. But, am I the one for him? Am I?! "
Devon spoke again after a few minutes. "Anyway to get back to the first time I saw Robert's sex organs. I asked him how long his cock was when it was hard. He said it was under three inches. I gasped slightly. I felt very sorry for him. He wondered if his small dick was because Ted and me used to plow his ass so much when he was still a kid. I told him that I used to plow Ted and he had a big dick. This didn't make him feel any better.
"I was sitting on the bed and Robert was standing. I pulled him towards me and put my head on his chest. I slowly began to stroke his body. I wanted to make love to him. I'm sure he wanted that also. I had him step out of his jeans and shorts. I moved my hands to his genitals and started to rub them lightly. He immediately got hard - and yes, his cock was about three inches long when hard. I removed his shirt and began to caress his beautiful chest. He started moaning and panting and was enjoying what I was doing to his body. I undressed quickly and we both fell into bed.
"It was a time of unbridled passion. We really did get it on that afternoon. We did everything except for Robert screwing me; we did that at a later time. When I sucked and nipped at his big balls, he went almost ballistic. When I licked and sucked his penis, I was rewarded with an incredible explosion of pent-up passion and a-hell-of-a-lotta semen. The size of his dick had nothing to do with how rewarding sex with Robert was. It was a wonderful day. I loved everything about it. I'm sure that he did too. We've had many repeats of that day, but nothing together since I met Quinn.
"Robert remained very shy but seemed to come out of his shell a bit after we made love that day. Right after that the band really got going. They started taking gigs outside of school for the first time. I think that our lovemaking had something to do with that; at least I hope so.
"I don't know if you know, but Robert writes all the songs the group performs. They're good, aren't they?"
"Oh, yes. They're very good, and Robert is a real talent." I looked up at the moon. "Devon, I'm going to be honest with you. I appreciate you telling me all of this about Robert. The first time I saw him on that small stage -- looking so incredibly gorgeous -- moving so beautifully -- singing so wonderfully -- I knew I was in love with him." I halted for a few seconds. "I've had a pretty shitty love life myself. I've always wanted to be committed to someone and to have someone committed to me, but I've never been that fortunate." I hesitated a few seconds and looked at Devon. "Tell me, what happened tonight? What did I do to set Robert off like that?"
"Well, the thing that really got him going, I think, was the last relationship he had. The guy seemed so nice and accepting of Robert and his, er, condition at first. But he turned out to be a fucking sadist and he brutalized Robert. Cuts and sores crisscrossed his ass and back. At one point the guy had him strung up with chains and tried to make his dick bigger by hanging increasing weights from it. He's also had a few other sexual encounters over the years, but he always felt they were laughing at him and that after he slept with someone they would go running and make jokes with their friends about this beautiful guy whom they had fucked and he had a real tiny little dick. He is incredibly self-conscious of his small dick size and it has kept him from all relationships since the sadist episode which ended about four months ago. I don't he's had sex with anyone since then."
Devon paused again and looked me directly in the eyes. "Kyle, he needs someone stable in his life. As I said, he is a wonderful person. He needs someone who can really care for him and help him in his career by supporting him with love and devotion. He is still a kid and is very, very vulnerable."
Now I was sobbing. I didn't know what to do.
We both stood up and I hugged Devon closely. "Thank you, Devon." He withdrew slightly and I held him at arm's length; my hands were resting on his shoulders. "Tell Robert that I accept his apology. Tell him that I'm very sorry I acted so rashly. Say that I look forward to meeting and speaking with him again -- very soon I hope. I think I'm going to pass on the rest of the party, though. I'm going to go back to where I'm staying and I'll try to get a good night sleep. This has been a really fucked up evening. My feelings are in turmoil. I want to thank you again, Devon. I hope a good night sleep will help me come to a sane decision and see the whole situation in a different light."
Devon gave me a light kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Kyle. I know that you'll do what is right for yourself -- and for Robert."
I watched as Devon slowly walked back to the house, occasionally looking back at me and waving. I heard Behavioral Problems begin their second set. I sluggishly walked back to the house and went to my bedroom. What an incredible night! I replayed the events that led me going to sleep hours earlier than I had originally planned. What an incredibly fucked up night!
When I got back to the house, I undressed and got into bed. I was naked -- the way I usually slept. I took two sleeping pills -- I definitely did not want to be awakened when my host and his lover returned. And I definitely did not want thoughts of beautiful Robert Harris preventing me from sleeping. I fell asleep in about ten minutes.
When I woke up, there was considerable noise and laughter coming from the living room. It was the usual Sunday morning brunch hosted by my writer friend; it was a literary circle and the local writers were devouring smoked salmon, bagels, smoked fish and gravalax. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand -- it was 10:20. God had I slept! I knew I had to get up soon and join the crowd in the living room -- it was expected of me. I sat up and stretched. My hand suddenly struck something. It felt like flesh. I turned quickly and gave out a small shriek of happiness. Robert was lying there in my bed and his shimmering blue eyes were staring right at me.
"W--W--W--What the fuck are you doing here?!" I managed to stammer out.
"I just came to tell you that I accept your apology," he said with a gorgeous smile on his lips and a lilt in his voice.
"That's nice," I managed to say while continuing to stare at him. "How the hell did you get into my bed?"
"Your roommate let me in. You were really zonked!"
"Yeah, I took two sleeping pills. How the hell do you know my roommate?"
"Well, it's a long story, but the summarized version is that I know your roommate's lover from high school. He was one of my teachers," Robert said sheepishly.
I was transfixed by the sight before my eyes. He was a vision, an absolute vision. His luscious, creamy skin glowed in the morning sunlight. He looked like an angel as the sun made his gorgeous blonde hair shine with an otherworldly shimmer. I was most definitely seeing things in a different light.
He sat up slightly, resting on one elbow. "I wanted to apologize to you in person. You seemed so caring last night and I'm sorry that I rejected you out of turn and acted like such a shit."
"I understand, Robert. I really do so understand completely. I'm sure you know that Devon and I had a lengthy conversation."
"Yes, he told me about your talk on the beach. Well, maybe you don't know the full, er, the whole story."
"There is a 'whole story'?"
"Yes, there is."
"What is it?"
"The whole story is ... that I'm deeply in love with you."
I gasped quite audibly. I smiled at my love. I leaned over and kissed him very lightly on the lips and licked his lips with my tongue. "I love you too, Robert. I love you very much. I knew that I was in love with you the minute I saw and heard you on that stage last night. I immediately knew you were everything I wanted in a man."
"How did you know so quickly?"
"Your songs told me!"
He smiled a really great, big smile at this last comment. "And I knew when I saw you standing in front of the stage with that fabulous look in your eyes." He took a deep breath. "Yet we only spoke for a few minutes. How are we so sure, so very sure, that we truly love each other?"
"One knows these things in here," I said pointing to my head. "And in here," and I gestured to my heart. "It's called the magic of love." We kissed again. "Speaking of magic, I have to get to the toilet and pretty damned soon otherwise we will have another visitor in this bed - and an unwelcome one at that."
I quickly hopped out of bed and practically ran to the john, where I pumped out a healthy stream. Robert walked in and we pissed together. After shaking it off, I put my arms around his incredibly thin waist and pulled him towards me. We kissed passionately, I exploring every corner of his mouth and sucking on his tongue, he doing the same to me. It was a very rewarding experience.
We slowly made our way back to the bedroom. I turned so that we were facing each other. I kissed him again, letting my hands play along the sides and back of his great body. I had been erect since our first deep kiss in the bathroom. Robert was also erect, and the feel of his cock against my body was like electricity.
I looked down at his genitals and they were exactly as Devon has described them. However, I found Robert's undersized cock to be extremely erotic, exciting and enticing - it was so manly and yet so boyishly beautiful. I knew I wanted it in my mouth as soon as humanly possible. I lowered my hand and enveloped this marvelous cock with my fingers. The softness was incredible to feel, like silk being slowly drawn across the palm of my hand. I lowered my other hand and hefted his enormous scrotal sac: it was so velvety soft and so absolutely exquisite. Those magnificent orbs, resting in the palm of my hand, sent a tremendous quiver throughout my entire body.
I wrapped my arms around Robert fabulous body and I kissed him deeply. "You are magnificently beautiful, my Robert," I whispered in his cute little ear.
"All of me, Kyle?" he said in a soft voice, and pulled back, looking deeply into my eyes.
"Absolutely. All of you, my love."
"I love you so very much, Kyle."
"And I adore you, Robert."
Robert started to tear up again. I put my arms around his waist again. My mind was a whirl. "I must take it slowly with Robert. I don't want to scare him. We are two damaged people rejected and humiliated by those whom we thought loved us. We have happily found each other. Let us both be happy in what we have discovered."
As I maneuvered our bodies toward the bed I turned and locked the bedroom door as we passed it. And while the quasi-literary establishment of Fire Island continued to eat their sumptuous free breakfast, Robert and I made slow, deep, passionate and seemingly endless love - and feasted on each other. It was the beginning of our lives together ...
The End
Author's Note: I hope you have enjoyed reading about Kyle and Robert almost as much as I have had writing about them. If you have any comments (good, bad or indifferent) please, please let me know at my e-mail address: cutter57@hotmail.com . I appreciate all criticism and will hopefully answer all e-mails.
Thanks Robert J. Cutter