Hello Nifty denizens! This is the second story I have posted to Nifty. I still intend to work more on the other story, but I wanted to put this first part out there to see what kind of response I could get. :-) I plan to make this story about 10 parts, but who knows? I hope to get several parts posted in the next few weeks, but I can't make any promises. Life is being pretty cool to me right now, so I am getting a bit caught up in it. :-)
Dedications: to D.Z., who drooled all over me when he read this; to the two Davids in my life, one is one of my best friends, and the other my best workout buddy; to Ken, a very cool (and very cute) new friend; and Chris ... what would I do without you? :-)
Hope you enjoy, folks!
NOTE: This is a repost of the original first part. A reader pointed out a continuity error, and it has been corrected.
Part I
It was after nine in the morning when I woke up. I stretched my muscles lazily and looked at the window. The sky was a vivid blue without a cloud. I smiled and burrowed under the covers a bit. I leaned over to sniff my partner's scent from his pillow and my nose hit something. I opened my eyes again. Resting on the pillow was a single white rose and a note. I know red roses are the color of love, but white roses are my favorite. I reached for the note and opened it. "Happy anniversary, love. I was going to write a poem, but there aren't enough words to express the depth of my feelings. See ya tonight, boy. Love, Rob." I couldn't help but grin at Rob's use of the word `boy.' It had been a long time since I had considered myself to be that, but Rob loved to call me that. Whether it was in his sexy growl or a playful laugh, it sent shivers down my spine just as much as it had sixteen years ago.
I picked up the rose and carried it over to the desk. Sixteen years, fifteen partnered ... wow. I stretched again and put the note and rose down before I strode into the bathroom. I gazed at my reflection critically. Not bad for forty-two, I thought. My muscles were still firm, although middle age had added a bit of that inevitable spread to my waist. But it enhanced rather than detracted from my looks. My blond hair had a little gray in it, as did my moustache. But my bright blue eyes still twinkled with the same mischief.
I clenched my ass cheeks and I felt a twinge inside, reminding me of the sweaty romp that I'd shared with my partner the night before. Fifteen years of partnered bliss hadn't diminished our lust for each other, not by a long shot. All I had to do was wiggle my butt near Rob and he was on me like cheap perfume on a hooker. All Rob had to do was make that growl in his throat and my legs were in the air.
I strode back into our bedroom and looked it over. This was our dream house, a house we'd built together. Six years ago, Rob had walked into our old house and announced that he was ready to move out, that he was tired of that dump. So we'd hired an architect and building firm and built our humble abode on a high hill ten miles outside the city where we lived, on thirty acres of wooded land that we'd bought with just that endeavor in mind. Over the next six years, we'd constantly worked on it to make it exactly as we wanted it, with a landscaping plan, a hot tub, a pool, and the workshop in back of the garage for Rob to do his work.
The house was in both of our names, as was the land we lived on. Being a lawyer, I was adamant after we'd become partnered that we should make it as legal as we could. Rob had my power of attorney, as I had his. A buddy of mine did wills for us as well, morbid as it seemed. I knew my family wouldn't make any trouble should anything happen to me, but I didn't want Rob to have to ever worry. He felt the same way, so each of us left the other his half of the house and land, as well as all possessions bought after the partnering. Rob was the beneficiary of my life insurance, as I was his. We'd found out shortly after that our careful planning was worthwhile. We had three bank accounts: one was joint, and the other two were for us individually. We put eighty percent of our income into the joint account, and kept the other twenty for ourselves. We paid for our clothing and `impulse buys' with our own money; bills, maintenance, and car expenses were paid out of the joint account, as were our vacations and other expenses. Even though Rob's truck was in his name and my SUV was in mine, we both used each other's vehicle enough that we figured all expenses on them should be joint.
I was glad of our individual accounts the time Rob decided to buy himself a new motorcycle. We'd been together for seven years, and on the day of his thirty-fifth birthday he'd come home with a brand new Harley. Every time he mentioned it, he called it "his Hog"; I irked him by constantly referring to it as "concrete proof of Rob's midlife crisis." This went on for several weeks, until the day I came home to discover that he'd taken his bike out on a ride. I was just getting out of my SUV when he came roaring into the garage, on the bike, in full leather gear. He got off the bike and growled at me, and before I knew it he'd bent me over the hood of my car and jerked my pants down and fucked the hell out of me. I never complained about that bike ever again.
We'd changed over the years of our partnership. Rob's thick auburn hair had been receding when we met, and around the same time he bought the bike, he decided to shave it cleanly. The combination of his smooth head and hot body just made him even more beautiful to me. Somehow we'd managed to make it work through all the rough spots. By no means was it an ideal `marriage.' We had our share of fights, some of them really heated. That's when we would discover (or rediscover) how good make-up sex could be. I had a bad tendency to be over-sensitive, and Rob could be blunt and somewhat thoughtless sometimes ... and sometimes we both had a bad habit of not being able to keep our pants zipped ... but we always managed to hold on to the core reasons we were together. We were soul mates. That kept us together through the conflicts, the tragedies, and the stress of Rob starting his own business and my own long hours.
I lay back on the bed, idly scratching my full nuts. I reached over and turned on the clock radio by the bed. Shania Twain's "You're Still the One" came on, and I laughed as I thought how appropriate it was. Every time I thought about the night Rob and I met, I remembered the sage advice one of my best friends had given me when I was twenty-four. Dennis was thirty-six then, single, and somewhat bitter. "Jordan," he'd said, "love strikes when you least expect it. I don't know where you'll find it, but I can tell you where you won't!" He then took a long drag on his cigarette. "You won't find it in anywhere cruisy, like a park, a tearoom, or a bookstore, and you sure as hell will never find it in a bar!" Which made it all the more ironic since a bar was exactly where Rob and I had met.
I was twenty-six. I had graduated law school the year before, passed the bar, and was beginning a new job as an associate in a law firm. The stress of the past summer had really gotten to me and the first free weekend that came along, I was so ready to get bombed. I was kind of new to the midwestern town I worked in, but through word of mouth I'd found out about a bar that catered to the leather crowd. I'd always had a weird fascination with leather, although I didn't own an item of it at the time. I made up my mind to go that Friday night.
I put on the tightest pair of 501s I had with only a cockring underneath, and topped it off with a tight white t-shirt. Most of the leather bars were cool with guys wearing Levis and t-shirts. I pulled on a pair of work boots and looked at myself in my mirror. Sweet, I thought. The pants hugged my ass well, and the shirt outlined my muscles. I maintained my muscles in the gym, but I'd earned them on the farm during my childhood and adolescence. I then headed off to the bar.
When I got there, I instantly began drooling. The bar was full of hot men. At the time, my best case scenario was that I'd find some hot daddy to drag me home and fuck the hell out of me. I had Dennis's words ringing in my head, so I had it firmly in mind that no relationship would find me in the smoky confines of that bar.
I met some of my friends at the bar, and we started putting back shots. Some hot guys hit on me, but for some reason I just wasn't getting in the mood. I was getting drunk, but I couldn't find a groove at all. About midnight, I was standing near a wall with some of my friends when I felt it. I didn't see him, but I just could feel his gaze on me. I slowly turned, and my jaw dropped. Standing about eleven feet away was the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on. He was wearing skintight jeans with chaps over them; the chaps hugged his powerful legs, and a huge package was thrust forward. His thumb was ever so slightly rubbing the fly of his jeans. I swallowed nervously as my eyes roved upward. Over his beefy upper body was a leather harness with leather bands around his thick biceps. He was built like a tank, with veins popping out on his bulging muscles. His chest was covered in auburn fur that trailed down his tight stomach. When my eyes reached his face, I was stunned by the intensity of his brown gaze. He had thick auburn hair in a buzz cut, a chiseled face, a bushy auburn goatee, but his stare was riveting. My cock went to full hardness instantly. As he stared at me and rubbed his dick, the corner of his mouth crooked up and he winked. As he did that, I felt my rigid length belch out a drop of thick slime. I was ready to cum in my jeans just from his stare. Just then, one of my friends grabbed my arm and started pulling me away. I turned my head and snapped, "Wait a second!" As I turned my head back, the stud was gone.
My disappointment just dragged me down even further. My friends decided to move on to another club, but I'd begged off. I sat down at the bar and downed screwdriver after screwdriver, utterly morose at my lost chance. I'd never felt attraction like I had with this guy, and now he was gone. As I sucked down the last drops of vodka and orange juice, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I knew. Without having to look, I knew he was there. I swallowed the drink and started to turn, but a rough hand grabbed my shoulder. "No," a voice growled. I sat still.
The hand on my shoulder rubbed my deltoid muscle, then trailed down my back until it reached my tight bubble butt. I felt the hand push something into my pocket, then it started caressing my round ass cheek. His other hand reached around and pulled me off the stool. He wrapped his left arm around my chest, and his right hand was on my hip. My dick was straining against the fabric of my jeans. The guy pulled my butt into his bulging crotch, and I felt an impressive hardness there. He humped my butt as he rubbed my nipple with his left hand. He leaned in. "You've got my name and number, boy," he growled in my ear. "Call me." With that, he licked my ear. I shivered, and felt my balls pull up. He dropped his head and licked my neck, then he sucked the soft skin into his mouth, hard. I moaned loudly and began shooting my load.
After I finished jerking, the man chuckled. He reached down and felt the cum-soaked denim. He licked my ear again and growled, "Good boy." With that, he was gone.
After he was gone, I stood there in shock for who knows how long. When I came to my senses, I immediately headed for the door. I drove home at breakneck speed, and was very fortunate not to pass any cops because I was totally wasted. When I arrived home, I stripped my clothes as fast as I could and started pumping my still-hard dick. Within a minute, I was blasting yet another load all over my blond-furred chest. I let out a deep breath and collapsed on my bed, suddenly exhausted. What a night!
It was at that moment I remembered my pocket. I walked over and picked up my cum-soaked jeans, and started searching the pockets. In one of the back pockets was a folded piece of paper. On it was the name "Rob" in neat handwriting followed by a phone number. Below the number was was written, "Call me by 3:30 am, boy." I looked over at the clock. 2:57. Whew!
I grabbed the towel that I usually used to clean up after jerking off and wiped off my torso, and then I picked up my phone. I took a deep breath, and dialed the number. One ring. Two rings. Three. By the fourth ring, I started to panic. When had he left me at the club? Might he not be home yet? What if he was already asleep? Oh shit, I thought.
On the fifth ring, the phone was picked up. "Hey, boy. You clean that load out of your pants yet?"
I sighed with relief. "Yeah, and I just shot another one."
The deep voice chuckled. "Awesome, boy. That's great. Good to hear you made it home all right."
I smiled. "Thanks. I'm Jordan, by the way."
"Rob. Good to meet ya, boy."
"Ditto," I said.
Silence reigned for a moment, then I heard a yawn. "All right, it's time for good boys to be asleep. So how about we hit the hay and I'll call you tomorrow?"
I couldn't stop grinning. "All right."
"Good, talk to you then. Night, boy."
I suddenly began to panic again. Wait! My phone number! "Wait," I cried desperately into the phone.
"What?"
"You don't have my phone number!"
Rob laughed again, a smooth rumble that flowed over me like honey. "I got caller ID, boy. Don't worry your cute ass."
I relaxed. "Okay."
"Call ya tomorrow. Night, Jordan."
I hung up the phone and relaxed, and shortly fell into one of the best night's sleeps I have ever had.
Looking back in retrospect, I must have sounded like a complete moron. Even though I was drunk off my ass, I remember vividly everything that happened that night. The next day, Rob called me and asked if I wanted breakfast. When I responded yes, he asked me for my address and then he hung up. In half an hour, he arrived on my doorstep with two grocery bags. He dropped them on the counter and turned to face me. He grinned. "Just so you know now that you're sober, I'm Rob."
I smiled back. "Jordan. I remember, Rob."
Rob's grin got even bigger. "Cool." Then he looked me up and down. He whistled. "Man, that outfit you had on last night was hot, but it didn't do you justice at all."
I looked down. Shit! I was completely naked! "Oh shit!" I yelped and I bolted for the bedroom to put something on.
I heard Rob laugh behind me. "Wait! Don't do that on my account, I like what I saw just fine!" Yeah, well, I thought, maybe so. But now that sobriety reigned again, I didn't want to appear sluttish or anything like that. I pulled on a pair of nylon track pants and a clean t-shirt, and then walked back into the kitchen. Rob grinned a grin that I began to associate with a wolf. "Mm," he murmured. "I think you'd look hot in a Hefty bag."
I blushed. "You look pretty good yourself," I said. `Pretty good' missed it, big-time. He was brutally gorgeous. He was wearing tight jeans again and a tight black t-shirt that hugged his enormous muscles. Now that we were standing close and I could see him, I noticed that we were exactly the same height, 6-foot-2. He had to outweigh me by at least twenty pounds, though.
Rob began unpacking the grocery bags. He asked where my cooking utensils were, and then went to work. I made a coffee and then sat down and then my astonishment began. Rob whipped up an incredible breakfast of blueberry pancakes from scratch, and sausage links. When he plopped the stack of pancakes in front of me, I took a small bite. "Ooohhh," I moaned. It was heaven in my mouth. Rob just grinned again. We dug in and ate with gusto. I ate two stacks of four pancakes and three sausages, and Rob managed to polish off two stacks of five.
During the meal, we began to chat. I found out that Rob had a bachelor's degree in landscape architecture and a minor in botanical agriculture. He was working for a landscaping firm in town while also trying to complete a masters degree in business administration, and his dream was to start his own landscaping service. I was impressed with his ambition, as well as with his intelligence. I told him about my law practice and how difficult it had been to balance school and work. I told him about the work I had done in my last year, volunteering with civil rights groups and with AIDS patients. He smiled. "I love your passion. It says a lot about you." I just blushed and stammered out my thanks.
We cleaned up the kitchen and I offered to package up what was left of the breakfast ingredients. He just grinned and told me to keep them for next time. I blushed again. Rob reached up and ran his hand down my cheek. "God, you have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?"
He reached in with his other hand to hold my other cheek. I rubbed my cheek on his hand. If I'd been a cat, I would've been purring. He leaned in and kissed me. It was soft and tender, and the sweetest kiss I've ever had. I wondered where this sweet guy fit in with the gruff man I'd been so in lust with the night before, when he pulled back from the kiss and growled in his throat. "Mmm, boy, you are sweet." His eyes caught mine. The intense brown gaze was back. I was completely mesmerized. His hands reached down and grabbed my upper arms, and he pulled me to him. "I could eat you up, boy," he growled as he bent in to nuzzle my neck. I moaned as he breathed on the sensitive skin.
Rob licked over the spot where he had sucked on it the night before. "Mm," he said. "You know you have a huge hickey there, boy?" He licked the spot again. My knees buckled. "I like it," he said as he probed my ear. "You've got my mark. Now everyone will know that you're mine." He moved his head so that he was staring into my eyes. Then he took me in another mind-bending kiss.
I groaned as my dick reached full hardness. Even now, after sixteen years, the memory of our first meeting and the day after still made me react strongly. I reached down and started to stroke my aching meat. Just then, the phone rang. Without letting go, I picked up the phone on the nightstand. "Hello," I said.
"Hey boy. Did you like your rose?"
"Ahh," I said as I soaked in his warm voice. "Yeah, I loved it. Thank you. How did you know I just woke up?"
"I knew," Rob said with a chuckle. I believed him. Rob and I had developed a sixth sense about each other, our connection was so intense. "So what are you doing with your day off?"
"I thought I might beat down some hard tasks," I said with a grin.
Rob laughed. "You stroking now, babe?"
"Uh-huh," I answered.
"What's got you so horny?"
"Just remembering the night we met."
"Ahh," Rob said. "That was intense. I'll never forget the way you whimpered and jerked when you shot in your pants. I felt like the king of the world."
"Mmm," I responded. I began playing with my nipple with my other hand.
"Yeah, stroke that meat, boy. Play with it for me." Rob's voice lowered to a sexy grumble. I stroked my cock. "Mm, yeah, play with it. You playing with your nip, too?"
"Uh-huh," I forced out. His voice did incredible things to me. Rob kept murmuring low, sexy instructions to me in my ear. I was so turned on that within two minutes, I was hosing myself down with my load.
I collapsed back onto the bed. "Ahhh," I let out. As I began to focus, something occurred to me. "Rob?" I asked.
"Yeah?"
"Where are you?"
"In a meeting with a client."
My eyes widened. "Shit! You're having phone sex with me in the middle of a meeting?!"
Rob chuckled. "Relax," he said. "The only one who can hear me is Rhoda, and it's nothing she hasn't heard before." Rhoda was Rob's longtime secretary. She'd walked in on us screwing in Rob's office too many times to be shocked by anything we did anymore. She was a sweet lady, though. Rob and I made sure to be extra good to her, especially when she started running interference for us when we ducked out for quickies.
"You aren't paying attention?"
"Nah," Rob said. I could now hear some voices in the background. "Jim's handling the presentation to the clients. We're doing landscaping for a company that's headquartering outside of town." He paused. "I need to go. We have to take these jokers out to lunch and stuff in a bit. I'll be home to get ready for dinner at five, okay babe?"
I smiled. "Okay, Rob. See you then."
"Mmm, you bet. Later, boy." Rob hung up.
Once again, the sound of Rob's sexy voice growling `boy' at me set me off totally. He never called anybody that but me. We didn't really have a daddy-boy relationship, and Rob was only two years older than I was, but it just seemed natural for him to call me that. I looked over at my nightstand. There was a picture of the two of us from our first summer together. We'd gone hiking and camping in a national park, and we'd posed, shirtless, in front of an impressive vista of trees and hills. I looked over at Rob's nightstand. The picture over there was a studio picture of us three years ago.
I got out of bed. Time to get the day started. Maybe if I got busy, the day would pass quicker.
End of Part I
I know it's short, but this is just meant to give a basic introduction. Subsequent chapters may be long or short, depending on what is in it. Feel free to email me. I'm on Spring Break for the next week, so I'll have time to respond. :-D Later!