This is the first installment of what I hope will be more fictional stories loosely based on myself and two close friends as the primary characters and highlights of some very erotic times we've had. I reserve all rights and retain sole ownership to this, an original work created by me for other adults' entertainment. Any reproduction, electronic or physical is prohibited without my express written consent as this is copyrighted by the author making that statement in this document. Names have been changed and certain events have been revised, deleted or condensed as deemed necessary.
The author grants the Nifty Archive a non-exclusive, worldwide, royalty-free, perpetual, and non-cancellable license to display the work.
All characters are of the age of majority or more during all events portrayed. No characters will be depicted as being forced to do anything against their will. I can be contacted via JPLMNMAN@HOTMAIL.COM and will reply to emails. Please put "Your stories" in the subject line so I can easily discern which are in response to my work. Thank you!
WARNING: This fictional account contains adult subject matter, homosexual in nature. If you do not wish to read such literature or it is illegal to do so when you are reading this, please close this window now.
M A Smith
Three Friends - Part 1 - Beginnings
I had moved from my last station, working for the feds over the past ten plus years, just a few months ago. This time at least the move was from Washington DC to the Twin Cities of Minneapolis/St. Paul, so I didn't feel like I had been banished to Siberia. Yet here it was difficult to make friends and meet people, most were in tight little groups that had been together since grade school. Sure, I'd made a few acquaintances and a friend at work but each night, when I headed home, it was alone with little planned for the evening or weekend. A few times a month the new friend and I would sit and have coffee and talk, rehashing the day's events, but she wasn't about to start asking me over to her place and I wasn't really interested in deepening the relationship either.
Once I decided doing the bar scene was no longer my thing and trying groups of people with similar interests was also out, I turned to my computer and the internet to try and find friends and I hoped, someone to be much closer with. I was still smarting from having to leave a wonderful, caring man back in Maryland yet wasn't about to give up hope there would be someone here for me. In this pair of cities of about a million people there had to be someone who wanted a friend and much more; but where?
After trying several dating web sites, most not even allowing a man to place a profile stating he was looking for another man, and getting a few emails, even meeting some at a local coffee shop to do an initial check out, I was beginning to resign myself to the fact it was almost hopeless. I was looking forward to flying back to DC for the holidays and staying with Paul, my lover that just several months before we had parted after a very tender time making love. Paul was unique in my life; the first man I knew who understood sex was not always just something fun to do but was also a way of sharing yourself with another.
As I sat there in my apartment, thinking about that last time we made love, I really got home sick, something I'd never experienced before. My mind recalled that last time we were together. Paul had outdone himself, preparing a fantastic lunch, putting on some relaxing music, and it wasn't long after I had arrived that we were nude, kissing passionately, on his bed. My hand naturally reached down to stroke his uncut cock while one of his hands was massaging my balls, us both very familiar how the other enjoyed to be touched, caressed, pleasured. Neither of us said a word until Paul finally broke the kiss and had asked.
"Jay? I wonder, if you got into the private sector, couldn't you find work around here and just as many opportunities for promotions? He was looking right into my eyes, almost pleading with his face, hoping I'd immediately smile, telling him, "Sure! Heck, I'll just turn in my resignation and within a week or two I'll have another job that so we can stay together." All the time my hand was stroking his beautiful uncut meat, it was at least eight inches, so handsomely veined and thick, not so much it would hurt when he penetrated me but still, thick. My thumb was getting wet with precum as I rubbed his piss slit, feeling his body responding to what I knew he loved so much; his legs stretching as his form moved closer so I could pay attention to even more of him. All the time I was thinking how to answer him.
Finally I told him, "Paul, I've been doing what I do now for almost eleven years. Between the promotions and security working for the feds, I LIKE that I get to move every couple of years, seeing new places, getting troubled federal programs back on track and once done, being reassigned to yet another place. Besides, I believe they do make planes just so people can visit!" His face didn't fall, nor did he stop responding to my caressing his penis, if anything he became all the more responsive and leaned back, wanting to escape into sexual pleasure so he didn't have to dwell on what was soon going to happen; me leaving. Myself, I was also more than willing to love Paul rather than think about all the hurt I was causing him. I leaned over, kissing his smooth chest, him now running his fingers through my close cropped light brown hair while I used my hand to explore even further down, finding his balls and pressing between them with a single finger, feeling the root of his cock inside him, hard and very ready.
He surprised me, this was our last time for probably a long time, (it turned out to be the last time), and he didn't do what I had imagined he would want; to slide his cock inside me while I was straddling his hips, over him, his muscles thrusting his hooded cock up inside me as we kissed; him grinning now and then at how much I moaned and pushed back, wanting to feel ALL of him filling me. Instead he calmly whispered, "Jay, I want to feel you loving my cock with your mouth, please. If it's going to be a long time until we can be together again I want to know the last taste you had of me was my semen squirting out in your mouth."
I wasn't about to tell him no, but slid down his front, looking up at him with a evil grin, flicking my tongue on his warm, ever so slightly furred stomach. He KNEW that was my favorite, giving him head and taking his cum, savoring it and then swallowing slowly, memorizing the taste, texture, scent, thickness, everything that made Paul's semen uniquely his. By the time my mouth had reached his groin, he was holding the shaft, slapping my face with his cock, little droplets of precum spotting me while the room began to fill with that unmistakable musky perfume signaling MAN!
I immediately popped his tip in my mouth, not wanting to waste any on my face, but wanting to taste his so slick, lightly salty, crystal clear precum. He knew I was enjoying myself and I most certainly knew he was. Once again Paul had done something that was prefect for the moment; something I was never very good at doing; allowing me what I wanted and yet also giving me a final, most intimate gift to carry with me, his semen.
While I swirled my tongue around his sleek tip, so smooth and warm, the foreskin still covering the back of his cock head, I started to massage his thighs. I've always known giving a man head was so MUCH more than merely putting his cock in your mouth and bobbing up and down until he came. It was using my hands, fingers, nails, legs, feet, and voice besides my lips, tongue and teeth to pleasure him in as many ways possible. Sometimes reaching up with my hands to caress his chest, stopping to play with his nipples, or possibly milking out a clear droplet of precum, wiping it off on a finger and reaching up and feeding it to him, so many things defined loving a man's penis with my mouth to me, and Paul knew that.
I didn't know he hadn't cum in over a week, instead edging several times each day, building up a massive volume of cum, so his lover could have the biggest load he'd ever felt gushing out when Paul came. As he got closer, I could feel his balls tightening, his whole body lightly quivering as his breaths turned into panting while I continued to enjoy his cock and body. Paul, between groans, told me, "Jay, lick a finger, I need to feel you in me, please!" Without losing my rhythm I sucked my left middle finger and quickly slid it between his butt crack, searching for his opening, and was soon deep inside him, pressing on his prostate, making him writhe on the bed all the more while his muscled ring clamped down on my finger, then relaxed, over and over. All he could say was, "YESSSSS! YESSSSS!" between moans and gasps at how good it felt. Whenever I felt him getting close, I would slow down, wanting this to never end and also wanting to give him all the love and pleasure I could.
After over a hour of bringing him to several almost climaxes I was feeling a little left out and I'm sure he sensed that, motioning to me to swing around so he had access to my cock. He began to jack my 7 inch cut and MUCH thicker cock (the reason I hardly ever had fucked him) with his hand. It was fast and hard, almost like it was going to get away from him if he didn't grab it that hard. He was using lube so that every touch, every motion was VERY intense, I could feel the sensations clear down into my balls. I already knew once he had started it would be only a matter of minutes before both of us came, and we were going to cum HARD.
The last thing Paul grunted out was, "All for you Baby!" just before he arched his back and started to erupt huge, long ropes of white seed into my mouth. I wasn't surprised at first, his jizz was usually thick and he'd always cum in huge, thick ropes of seed coating my tongue and mouth. Yet instead of the usual four to six, the last one or two smaller and thinner, his body was pumping out even larger bolts by the time he had hit six! I always liked to keep count, just did, but this time, it was totally different, they weren't getting smaller and sure weren't stopping at six. Each shot was from deep inside him, not rapid fire but more deliberate and planned, several seconds between squirts; his body preparing for the next explosion, each fired with every muscle contracting to pump his sperm carrying fluid out. He was past filling my mouth with his most special gift to me as he let out an animal like growl with each bolt darting out, warm, musky, just a tinge of sweet, into my mouth.
Feeling the volume of his seed now almost overwhelming me, I began to cum, feeling squirts of my seed hitting my stomach and knowing it was also splashing all over his torso. He hadn't stopped jacking me, still gripping my shaft like never before, and the sensations were incredible!
I've NEVER lost a man's load from my mouth, ever. Yet now, as fast as I could swallow, he was refilling it with still more gigantic squirts of his white pudding. I couldn't, it being so special, let this be the first time I had to open my mouth and signal defeat. I kept my lips wrapped firmly around his shaft, gulping, trying to just open my throat and let him ejaculate directly down it into my stomach. Then is when it happened; his goo began to flood out my nose! Suddenly I couldn't breathe at all, and all my senses were in overload, my body telling me if I wasn't going to consciously give up then it would for me. I watched as clots of his seed slid down my lips, off onto his shaft, and started to smear on his dick. I didn't feel defeat, I felt so aroused, seeing my man's semen, so much of it I couldn't swallow fast enough and it had found an escape and looked so sexy coating his hard shaft and now his scent was literally in my nose! All I could do was swallow every squirt he did, breathing as best I could, then leaning down and licking up the bit that had escaped me through no fault of my own.
When I turned around, Paul was grinning from ear to ear, proud his surprise has worked and would be a gift I'd never forget. Yet the moment he saw my face, he couldn't hold in a burst of laughter, at how both sexy yet comical I looked with cum running out my nose, down my chin and onto my chest, his cum. As I blushed he told me to hold still; then leaned up and licked his seed of my chest and pulled me down next to him.
We hugged, him fishing my cum off his chest with his fingers so we could share it between kisses, laughing softly at what I must of looked like, a drowned rat with white jizz still leaking out my nose. He would kiss me there, flicking off another bit of his seed, then give me a deep, long French kiss, our tongues touching, twining as both our loads were shared with the other.
Yet like anything, it soon became time for me to clean up and walk the few blocks to the Metro, heading out to Regan National. I'd stopped over the night before with an overnight bag, all the rest already on it's way to Minnesota, including my car, so it didn't take long to do the necessary hugs, some tears, and soon, I was alone, walking down the streets of DC, headed out to a new adventure but feeling so sad, something I hadn't planned on when I met Paul just three years before.
By the time my wonderful memory was over it was well past midnight in the suburb of St. Paul I lived in. After reliving that incredible time Paul and I had, me STILL being able to taste his cum (he was right, it was the one thing that would stick in my mind more than anything else), I had an empty feeling in my stomach. I had long ago learned if I felt that down it was best to get out among people, not to isolate and stew in my emotions, and this time wasn't going to be any different. I picked up my down jacket (don't forget, Minnesota, mid-January), put on gloves and snow boots, clomped out to my garage and somehow squeezed Mr. Marshmallow man into the driver's seat of the little sports car I had bought less than a year before; still sporting Maryland plates.
After getting out on the main streets I realized this wasn't like other larger cities I had lived in, here there wasn't a car to be seen in either direction. The little gas mart on the corner had long since closed for the night and so I decided to drive to where I shopped for groceries. Even there, only four or five cars were in the huge parking lot but thank goodness, I had remembered the store was open 24/7. After getting out of the car and into the store, the emptiness did more to enhance my melancholy; the place was more like a garishly lit mausoleum than a bustling supermarket. Even the brightly painted walls were too happy, too bright for my taste and I was getting ready to leave, this had been a bad idea. Tomorrow I'd feel better but right now what I needed was sleep and to dive into my work.
While pushing a shopping cart that had only two or three items in it back towards the front, I head a voice from behind me call out my name. It had been months since I'd heard someone outside of work say, "Jay!" Without turning my body, only my head, I looked behind me, back down the aisle. There, about thirty feet behind me was this man, dark almost black hair, I was guessing a few inches shorter than my six foot even frame, and due to the thick coats we both wore, I could only guess what the rest of him looked like but it seemed he was thinner than me. Where I weighed about 170-180 (depending if I was going to a gym or not) I estimated he was no more than 135-145 pounds. He was near my age, 38, and that's about all I could tell in the few moments I had. At the same instant another part of my brain was activating, the street smart section. I'd lived in big cities all my adult life and I knew this had to be some panhandler or worse, some guy with a knife who wanted to mug me.
I wasn't desperate, more angry that now I had to deal with this jerk when all I wanted to do was buy the stuff in my cart and head home and climb into bed. Now I had to quickly choose to either ignore him, possibly setting him off or face him, also not such a good idea as we were alone in the aisle. Without a word, he was trotting towards me, a nice smile on his face, and I could see he was wearing a designer polo shirt under the polar jacket, looked clean and wasn't acting threatening at all. I decided to face him and wait, letting him come to me. While waiting I put on my business face as I call it, not letting anyone see what I was actually feeling or thinking, perfect for just such a situation.
Within a few seconds he was next to me, the grin still very much apparent, and his eyes the deepest brown I'd seen. He was clean shaven, the cologne he wore was perfect for him and everything about him said I shouldn't worry. He carried himself with confidence and was already leaning in towards me (I'd always used body language to understand situations) indicating he wanted to be near me as he liked me, not to hurt me; else his stance would have been more guarded and probably leaning back or standing straight up. The smile wasn't forced or fake, his eyes had those unmistakable small wrinkles at the corners showing he wasn't planning a smile; it just was the thing his body was telling him to do.
Without even waiting for me to say a thing he calmly told me, "You don't remember me, do you? I'm the guy who manages that restaurant you ate at a few weeks ago. I remember you telling me you were new to Minnesota and didn't know where things were but some colleagues had told you to try my place and you were hoping it was going to be good. Does any of that jog your memory Jay?" I was impressed, he not only quickly stated his case, his voice was deep, rich and very calm, and he knew to use a person's name during a conversation.
I replied, "Well, sorry, no, I really feel bad but I don't remember you. I have to confess, I've eaten at so many restaurants the past few months none of them really stand out." I really didn't know who he was nor what restaurant he managed but most of all, I was trying to gently disengage and just go home, my mind was still on defense mode and my emotions were ugly. Yet I didn't want to hurt his feelings, so this seemed like the best way to let him off easily and then leave. I added, "Wow, I am really embarrassed, I don't even recall your name!" I was wondering how he knew MY name; I didn't stand out that much. Sure, men liked me, I am attractive and have what some would call a rugged mountain man look, easy going, laid back, self assured, and I take care of the body I am stored in. Yet HOW did this guy I couldn't remember anything about know my name? I did know all the people I'd introduced myself to and he sure wasn't one of them.
Instead of him getting the hint or looking downcast and sad, he kept on going as if nothing was wrong. "Hey, I understand, most people don't remember me but I make it my business to remember people and especially their names! I remember you came in several times in a few days but then I never saw you again. I'm so glad I was able to find you Jay!"
Ok, that did it, so what did I have here, a cute, bubbly, slightly off center wacko who dressed well and prided himself in listening in on conversations or what? I wasn't in the mood nor was it the time to be that polite so I glared at him and said, "Look, I really have no idea who you are, what you want or if we've even met. What I do know is I'm NOT glad you were able to find me whatever your name is, got it?" Then while I continued to glare, giving off every negative signal I could, he finally backed down and stepped away, no longer leaning in or inside my personal space. I'd done it, I had successfully gotten this jerk to leave me alone and if he thought he knew me, well, now he didn't. His smile was still there but it, too, was very much toned down, more a polite one than a GLAD WE MET one.
Softly he continued, now more trying to explain and I thought end this chance meeting, "I'm Sean, you paid for your meals with a credit card and no, I don't write down credit card numbers but I do like to glance at the name so I can call people by their first names and that's how I know you're Jay. I remember you seemed sad most of the time; no one eating with you, and you'd finish, pay and leave, never lingering. You were always in a business suit and had a PDA on the table, checking out appointments. I do remember the last time you gave me a smile and said thanks for the special service; that really made me feel good! So, ahhh, I really hoped the next time you came in we could just talk as you seem like a really nice guy. But then you never came back."
What he'd said did two things, I still didn't remember him but I did remember the restaurant as I had just purchased a new PDA and was playing with it, and had only done so at one restaurant, the one with the great Italian food. It also made me realize, he wasn't anything but open and friendly, hoping I'd come back so we could hit up a conversation. In a way he seemed as lonely as I felt right then. Then I did something I'd never done before or since, I reached in my wallet and pulled out a business card, and wrote my cell number on it, along with my personal email address. While my mind was screaming, "Have you lost your MIND! Stop, don't do this, just walk away Jay, you IDIOT!" I handed him the card and smiled back.
"I really don't have many friends here yet (lying, I had ONE and she worked with me, big deal) and I'd love to hear from you again. I'm glad I made such a good impression on you Sean is it? So yes, why don't you give me a call sometime and let's go out for drinks, ahhh, that is if you do drink."
The smile was back in full; once again he was inside my personal space and just about ready to bubble over in excitement. Even though I was already regretting giving him my business card all he could say was, "Hold on, you're not going to believe this but I have a business card too! Here, there's my cell phone and that's my work phone and the name of the restaurant. Oh, wait; let me put my home address on the back." When he handed it back to me I glanced down and was stunned, he lived no more than four or five blocks away from where I did!
"Sean? You're not going to believe this; I just live up the street from you!" I took my card back and jotted down my address, always that creepy feeling I was really sealing my fate and shouldn't be doing this was in my mind, I couldn't shake it; then handed the card back to him. He smiled and then I think finally sensed my discomfort with the meeting. He knew we needed to end this and it was him that needed to do it.
"Great Jay! Can never have too many friends, can you? Tell you what, I'm running late, need to get home and get a few things done; I have to be at work in about four hours! Please, give me a call, and soon. My hours are all over the place but I do return voice mail! If you want, stop by the restaurant at lunch, I'm usually there." Then he backed up, us both much more comfortable, and what he said while walking away made me wish I'd never given him my card.
"I'm surprised someone like you isn't at home asleep with your loved one. Guess there are others like me."
I stood there, not knowing what to think, should I tackle him, get the card back, ignore it, what? He WAS very cute/handsome with his almost black hair, beautiful smile, and small frame. Yet, no, he's just some crazy, go home Jay! So I shoved his card in my pocket and left, not even buying anything.
Next time, Three Friends - Part 2 - Desires and Fears