Disclaimer: The story that you are about to read is my first go at writing. I have read and enjoyed many of the authors who have contributed to nifty.org. What you are about to read are thoughts that I have written down in a journal for many years. Some things are partly true. Others are purely fictional. Names and places have been changed in order to protect the innocent. There are graphic sexual acts portrayed in these stories, so if you are offended by these situations, please go no further than this disclaimer. If you are not offended, please continue and enjoy.
GAY TALES FROM RICHLAND Dave & Me
By Roger Beals
Chapter 1
Welcome to Richland, a small New England town of about ten thousand souls. Richland, like any other community, small, medium, or large, has its share of gays, lesbians, bisexuals, and transsexual folk. I am here to write about the gay men of Richland, starting with a story about myself. After all, it wouldn't be fair to write about other gay men, and leave myself out of the picture (am I being too vain? snicker).
My name is Richard Burns. I am 35 years of age, 6'-1" tall, 190 lbs., blond hair and blue eyes. Some people say that I am rather attractive, but who am I to disagree with them hee-hee. I am a registered physical therapist at Richland Memorial Hospital, and the assistant department head. I work under the supervision of our department head, Ira Holiday. I have a 17 year old assistant who comes in after school in the afternoon. He is the same height as I am, weighs 160 lbs., has wavy black hair, and bright blue eyes. He is quite handsome. WAIT!!! I'll take that back! Actually, Dave Waters is very beautiful. I don't know why, but I am very attracted to him. I am always glad to see him when he comes to work. I, by the way, am still single, and have dated girls, although I have never had sex with any of them.
Up until Dave came to work for us, I didn't have too many doubts about my sexual orientation, but when I first laid my eyes on Dave, he caused all kinds of confusion in my mind. I didn't know whether Dave was gay or not. In the 6 months that he's been with us, he has never mentioned having a girlfriend, nor had anyone ever seen him with a girl. This was rather strange, as Dave and I had become close friends and he usually told me every about himself, but I was not one to pry into anyone's private affairs.
There is trouble in Richland this afternoon. It is the middle of November, and it has been snowing most of the day, and the weather forecasters were predicting that the storm would continue until tomorrow in the late afternoon. That would mean that there would be almost 2 feet of snow on the ground by tomorrow morning. This was not good news, for I lived 30 miles from the hospital, on a country road that didn't see a plow for at leasts 2 days after the snow stopped snowing. Even with an SUV, I didn't relish fighting the snow and the Richland town traffic.
Dave is also quite worried. He lives about 5 miles from my house, and he knows that his Mom will not want to drive in all of this snow to pick him up, and it was getting close to quitting time.
I went to the front desk and told Ira that I was going to spend the night at the hospital, sleeping in the therapy department. I explained that this way, I would be there to open up the department in the morning. We both knew that there wouldn't be many outpatients coming in for therapy, but we still had house patiens to work with. Being part of the management staff, I am on salary, but I still don't like to miss work except for holidays and vacation time. Staying the night at the hospital meant that I would eat dinner and breakfast in the cafeteria, watch TV in the employees' lounge, and sleep on one of the massage cots. I would get up early enough to take a shower, shave, and get dressed, and then open the therapy department at 8 AM.
Unbeknownst to me, Dave had also gone to Ira and asked if he could spend the night. Ira gave him the OK, and Dave called his Mom and told her that he was staying the night (much to Mrs. Water's relief). Ira called me to the front desk and asked me if I had any objections to Dave's spending the night. Dave smiled broadly when I told him that I was fine with the idea. After all, there were 10 booths and cots, so there was plenty of room to sleep. Ira had no idea just what was going to transpire in the therapy room that night. As a matter of fact, Dave and I had no clue as to what was going to happen in the therapy room that night.
Five o'clock came and the rest of the 8 employees headed for their homes. The hospital parking lot was being plowed as were the town roads. The plows would be busy all that night and well into the next day.
When everyone had left for the night, Dave and I headed for the cafeteria to eat our dinner. I went ahead and paid for his meal as I knew that as a high school student working part-time, needed all of the money that he earned to pay for whatever teenagers had their minds set on. I let him order whatever he wanted, and he was most grateful, as he thanked me profusely.
As we sat there in the booth eating our meal and talking, I noticed that Dave would rub his head and shoulders every so often.
"Are you feeling all right, Dave?" I asked him.
"Yeah, Mr. Burns, I'm OK. It's just that I'm all tensed up thinking about all this snow and my Mom and sisters are home alone," Dave answered me.
"When we're finished eating," I said, "we'll head back to the therapy department, and I'll you some physical therapy."
The treatment that I had in mind would be hot packs to the shoulders for about 20 minutes, followed by a deep shoulder massage. That should help you get rid of the tension.
Having finished eating, Dave and I headed back to the therapy department. We stopped by the hospital store and I let Dave pick out some snacks for later on in the evening. He picked up some snack cakes, potato chips, and Pepsis. After I paid for the items, entered the therapy department, and locked the door behind us. I told Dave to go ahead and take his smock and tee-shirt off and lie down on one of the massage tables while I prepared the hot packs.
After preparing the hot packs, I returned to the booth where Dave was supposed to be lying on the cot, but he was standing there, leaning against the cot, waiting for me. He had taken off his smock and tee-shirt and hung them on one of the hooks in the booth. This is the first time that I had seen Dave half-naked, and my heart skipped a beat, and there was a stirring in my groin. His well-built upper torso featured a pair of quarter-sized pink tits, with nipples that stood out from his pecs about a one-quarter of an inch. Dave's happy trail ran from just below his perfectly indented navel and traveled down to somewhere inside the black slacks that all of the male therapists and therapy aides were required to wear. If the top half of Dave's body looked this good, I could only imagine what the bottom half looked like.
Dave gave me the sweetest smile as I instructed him to go ahead lie down on the cot so that we could get started with his treatment. Once he was lying in the prone position, I placed a pillow under his abdomen, draped a clean, dry towel across his shoulders, then placed the hot packs on top of the towels. I then spread a flannel sheet over him to keep him from getting chills.
One of the primary rules for giving hot-pack treatments is that you have to lift the packs off the area of treatment every so often and run your hand over the area. This is done to keep the patient from blistering should he happen to have tender skin. Lifting the pack with my left hand, I gently ran my hand over Dave's shoulders and upper back. When I did this, a soft moan escaped from his throat. God, his skin was so soft. Replacing the pack, I waited another 4 or 5 minutes and repeated the "lift and rub" procedure, and once again, Dave let loose with a low, soft moan.
"Are you OK, Dave?" I asked, "Am I hurting you?"
"Not at all, Richard! It's just that your hand is so nice and soft." He answered. "It just feels good."
"Well, you'll feel more relaxed when I Massage your back and shoulders, Dave," I said
My hands, along with the rest of the therapy staff should be soft. After all, we are constantly using massage creams on our clients.
Twice more, I lifted the pack from Dave's shoulders, and twice more, he let oout a pleasurable moan.
Twenty minutes has now passed and the hot pack treatment is over. I told Dave that I was ready to start the massage treatment. Without saying a word, Dave pulled the pillow from underneath him and rolled over on to his back. I asked him what he was doing, because all I was planning on doing was massaging his back and shoulders.
"I thought that you could begin with the front of my shoulders, and then you can work on my back," he said.
"Well, if that's what floats your boat, then that's what I'll do."
I scooped a generous amount of Albolene Cream from its tin, smoothed it into the palms of my hands to warm it up and began to massage Dave's shoulders, neck and upper chest. As I was massaging him, I was awed at the sight of his boyish tits. He looked so beautiful lying there with his eyes closed, as he basked in the warmth of my hands on his chest.
I don't know what came over me, but suddenly, I let my hands roam down lower to Dave's mid-chest. Like magic, they were drawn to the area of his perfectly round right tit. As much as I wanted to brush my fingers against his nipple, I refrained from doing so because we were taught in nursing school that some men's nipples were just as sensitive as a woman's nipples. Why I was so drawn to Dave's nipples is a mystery to me. Perhaps it was the fact that his skin was so soft and supple, or, perhaps it was the fact that as I was massaging him, he let out those soft whimpers, or, it could have been a combination of the two. All I know is that I figured I had better finish Dave's chest, and get him on his stomach so that I cold work on his back. Besides, my face was getting hot, my mouth was getting dry, and my dick was straining against the fabric of my slacks. "Why Dave, and Why Me?" I thought to myself. "I've worked in this department for 5 years, and I have worked on young men, middle-aged men and older-than-middle-agaed men, and nothing like this has ever happened before."
Then it happened! Very unexpectedly it happened! I had made one more close pass to Dave's right tit, and as I did, he shifted his body just enough to the right, that the thumb of my right hand brushed along the edge and top of his nipple.
"Awwwww, fuck, Richard! That feels good!" Dave whispered softly.
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This ends chapter 1 of Dave & Me. Chapter 2 will soon follow, that is if the publishers at the Gay Cafe print the first installment. What's going to happen next? Well, I can hardly wait to tell you, so watch for the next exciting episode. If you have enjoyed this story so far, and, if you have any comments or suggestions of any kind, please feel free to write me at RWBFRMRCHMNDVA@aol.com
Thanks, and please, read the stories that all of the fine authors have posted. They are excellent. Roger Beals