"Peter is After Me, Part One" by Jay Roberts Gay Adult
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===Now as to this story. From the title you would never know it was a bit of porn, worse, gasp, gay porn. It's for folks over 18 years. If you are less and you stay to read it, your pee pee will fall off. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Peter and I joined Kingsway Securities at the same time. We started out, directly after obtaining our MBAs, and were inducted into the temporary program. The idea was that we would be evaluated and if found worthy (Ha) we'd be invited to be permanent employees.
Now if you think stock brokerage is glamorous, forget it. It a grinding salt mine with the telephone permanently attached to your ear and you must eternally confident and cheerful and more convincing than that required to get laid.
Peter and I went to different colleges, so I met him here. We both made it. We each had our own cubical (yeah!) and we both slaved away. With mutual gripes we became drinking buddies. We were different in many ways, Peter was a big blond affable Irish boy, I a small neat Jewish kid, but we both were living the same life eight hours a day, five days a week.
Our haunt was Digby's. A dusty, beat up pub on the West Side. No one from the office ever came here, and that was good. Often one of us was totally smashed and had to be the designated subway or taxi rescuer. The St. Bernard, you know.
We didn't get to know each other intimately. We talked the usual subjects that co. - workers do: parents, politics, sports, but never anything deep, that is until this week. What changed our conversation was me. I confessed to feeling really horny at this time.
I cried into my beer, it had been the sixth one, Peter was three behind me. "My sex life is in the toilet. I have no one. I'm even bored with my own hand and I'm hurting."
Peter put his heavy muscular arm over my shoulder. This was very unusual for us. "Robert, I like you. You're my friend and fellow sufferer. If ever I can help you, just ask."
"You mean find a girl for me?"
"Not exactly." . "What?"
He took a deep breath. I've been around quite a bit. My experience is pretty broad."
"And you are trying to say your are bi-sexual?"
"I wouldn't get so scientific...let's just forget it...for now."
I shrugged and was about to order my seventh.
Peter shook his head. "You had enough. I don't want to carry you."
He was right. I had reached the stage of slurring my words and had difficulty keeping my eyes from slitting down.
"Buddy, just put your arm around my shoulder and we'll make it to a cab."
I lived in a studio in the Village. Peter lived at home with his parents. With no rent, he was in better financial shape than I was.
We reached my building. Peter shook me to wake me up. I had slept or passed out for the twenty minute trip. He helped me out of the taxi. "Can you make it up to your apartment without help?" he asked.
"Sure," I lisped and wove my way to the front door, fumbled a long time and finally disappeared inside. Thank goodness tomorrow was Saturday, I could sleep.
Peter faithfully made the cab wait until I was inside.
I fell on the bed undressed. I woke up the next morning , just before noon. I would have slept the day away except for the phone.
"Hey Robert, you alive?"
"Barely. Thanks for checking Daddy."
.He chuckled. "Glad you're okay, son, see you Monday."
I spent the rest of the day recovering. I got into pretty good shape, good enough to make Sunday dinner at the folks, my only good meal of the week. I found that a combination of boredom with the table conversation plus the odd return of the dregs of my hangover made it impossible to stay awake at the table.
I made by goodbyes and left and walked the two blocks to the subway. It was brisk and it woke me up. Suddenly I felt fine.
I decided to walk the full way downtown to my apartment. It must have been three miles but I enjoyed every minute.
Back at my place I undressed and lay on my bed. My mind drifted and to my amazement I began to think about Peter in an odd way I had never done before. I began to imagine what it might feel like if we were naked together. I even pictured his body though I had never seen it, then I felt an imaginary kiss on my lips. Then I jumped up as I realized I had a strong erection.
I didn't wack it off, I didn't want to make the daydream more vivid by amending a cum to it. I decided that maybe I ought to cool those drinking bouts after work. It wasn't healthy physically and now this element of Peter making veiled suggestions was off putting. Thinking deeper I began to remember little hints of Peter's interest in me. Out loud I said, "Why the fucker's got a wild crush on me."
End Part One