This is the ultimate story of two men, Dave and Greg. Two men who discover a passion for each other, despite their current heterosexual relationships. If you find a story involving same sex partners not to your liking, or if you are not of legal age in the area in which you reside, please leave now. If this is what you're looking for in entertainment, please enjoy. Remember, the characters and situations are alive only in my imagination, and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is totally coincidental.
There are instances of heterosexual love. Hey, it may not be for you, but it's out there. Since this story focuses on two heterosexual men who "find" each other, it takes a while to set up. So don't write the website or me with your disapproval of straight sex. It's how you got here. Live with it!
This is my first attempt at writing a continuing epic. Keyword: EPIC. Don't expect a Wham! Bam! Thank You Sam! Story. And as always, this author craves feedback. Criticism only makes me a better writer. Please respond to Jaylovenj@comcast.net. I look forward to hearing from you.
Four Becomes Two: Chapter 1 By Jay Love
My name is David Welsh, and I am 32-years of age. I am 6'2" tall, and keep my weight at 195 pounds with diet and vigorous exercise.
I have been dating Shelia Daniels for the past two years, and for the last eight months, have been trying to convince her that she should marry me.
No, I haven't actually come right out and asked her, but I have been dropping subtle hints to see where she is thinking. Needless to say, she, at 28, doesn't feel she is ready to settle down. Strange, I think, because most women try desperately to get "their man" down the aisle.
But, I am a patient fellow, and I am determined to wear her down. After all, I'm not getting any younger, and if I am going to have children, I want to be young enough to enjoy them.
I have been told that I am handsome, even though I don't think I would win any awards. I have curly, black hair, chiseled features of the face. My body is covered in wiry black hair that I have been known to shave on occasion. Shelia hates all the hair. Says I look like a bear standing on its haunches. But she loves the tube that I have hanging between those hairy thighs. Eight inches when soft, it grows to a massive twelve-inch stalk of fiery hot steel that reaches her innermost spots of pleasure. It makes me proud.
I have never had trouble getting girls. Even when I was in high school. Girls seem to flock to me even when I was going through my "shy period", you know that time when you are afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve for fear of it being ripped to shreds.
I remember my first sexual encounter. It only lasted ten minutes, but those ten minutes made a lasting impression.
I was at a dance with Virginia Waters. We were both sixteen at the time, and Ronnie, my best friend, had snuck in some Vodka that he had stolen from his father's liquor cabinet.
Well, Virginia seemed to like the taste (I thought Vodka didn't have one) as much as we did, and soon she was feeling pretty good.
We danced a slow dance, she leaning into me, grinding her hips against mine. Her hair had the sweet smell of lilacs, and was as soft as silk.
I could feel her nipples through the fabric of her bra as she pressed against my silk shirt.
To my horror, these sensations went straight to my crotch, and I started to get hard. Virginia felt it too. She looked into my eyes, and whispered, "let's go to the car" in my ears.
I found Robbie, retrieved the car keys (he drove), and slipped out of the party to the school parking lot where he had parked.
Virginia was like an animal as she tore at my pants, desperately trying to free the beast within. I never knew she was like this. Sure, I had heard a couple of stories, but her demeanor, as well as the fact that her father was a preacher (my parents felt she was a safe bet), made me believe that they were just rumors.
I felt between her legs, feeling the dampness that was seeping through her panties.
Before I knew what was happening, she had ripped them off and I was firmly planted in her suctioning hole.
She rode me like a bucking bronco, screaming, panting, and cussing like a preacher's daughter should not.
After about five minutes of this bucking, she looked into my eyes. I could feel the familiar signal to my own orgasm approaching. She began to shake, and the shaking sent me over the edge. I came hard. We were both screaming, as she too had a powerful orgasm.
But she wasn't through. Her contractions upon my dick kept my member harder than hard, and she kept on riding me. Soon, we experienced another mind-blowing orgasm. This time, not even the strongest starch could keep me stiff.
We collapsed into a sweaty heap in the back of the car. The sweet smell of recent sex filled our nostrils. I rolled down the window to air out the enclosed space as soon as we recovered. Just in time too, because about five minutes later Ronnie came out with his date as the dance was over.
Of course, I shared this experience with Ronnie the next day. And apparently Virginia shared it too. I started being hit on by most of the girls in our class. One even came right out and told me that she was only interested in a fuck. I knew then that I had the "power".
I make my way into the restaurant where I am to meet Shelia and her best friend, Annette, for dinner. Annette has a new boyfriend, and she wanted Shelia and I to meet him. She and Shelia are partners in law, opening a small, but growing practice.
I find the ladies seated at a table, chatting away. Annette makes me nervous. She always looks at me as if she's starving and I am a full course meal. I have mention this to Shelia, but she says that it's all in my mind. That's why I'm glad that she has found herself a man.
"Ladies," I say, as I kiss Shelia on the cheek, "how lovely you look."
"If that's the line he uses to pick up women, you don't have a thing to worry about, Shelia," Annette speaks.
"She doesn't have anything to worry about, anyway, I am a one woman man," I reply, hoping that Annette gets the meaning.
The waiter brings the drink I ordered, and we chat for a few minutes.
"So, Annette, where is this fellow that you want us to meet?" I ask.
"He should be here any minute," she address me.
"Hello, everyone, sorry I'm late." I looked over my shoulder to see a very handsome man, around 30 years of age. He had light blonde hair, and the bluest eyes I had ever seen. His muscular frame was poured into an Armani that looked as if it was made just for him.
"I'm Greg," he said by way of introduction.
"Hi, honey," Annette chimes. "Gregory Jefferson, I'd like you to meet Shelia Daniels and David Welsh," she says, introducing us.
"I've heard wonderful things about you Greg," Shelia pipes in.
"Good to meet you Greg," I add, shaking his hand. It's soft, indicating that he is not a laborer. "And call me Dave."
"Nice to finally meet the both of you. Annette only has good things to say about the both of you."