O'Melissokomos: The Bee Keeper

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Dave

by Iainlthr

Chapter One -- Catching Up

You could have knocked me down with a feather. Standing there, just across the bar from me, was a real 'blast from the past'. I stood and looked, my eyes drinking in the sight. He was tall, a blond with wide shoulders and the sort of chest you only get from serious exercise during your developing years, and I should know, I'd watched him doing that exercise during those years. His name was Dave, and we'd been on the swim team together at high school.

Back then, I was still well and truly in the closet. At a catholic boys school you didn't get a choice, but I had ogled him and dreamed of him, fantasised about him during my lonely nights with one hand on my cock and the other pinching my nipples. At that age I wasn't even convinced I was gay, but I knew that I wanted Dave's body pressed against my own, wanted to hold him and play with his cock, wanted to kiss him and just be near him. But a fantasy was all it was, and I rarely even spoke to him, let alone suggest that we get together.

Then high school finished and we went our separate ways. I went to university, and discovered that there were other men like me. I learned the joys of sex, and received an education in how to give and receive pleasure. During and after my time at Uni, I had many partners, and a few who became boyfriends, relationships that lasted anywhere from a week to four months, but I had not yet found my Mr Right, and I had forgotten all about my high school fantasy man. Until now. Five years later, and there he was, standing in a gay bar, larger than life and even better looking than I remembered. I made my way over to him, excitement and nervousness growing with each step.

"Dave? Dave Mitchell?" I asked expectantly as I tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned and looked at me, his face blank at first, then a growing recognition spread across his features. I could almost see his memory churning, as he smiled a huge grin.

"Mike Trenton! Incredible! I'm so sorry, I just didn't expect to see you here. How are you?"

"Great!" I laughed. "I know this sounds like a really corny thing to say, but what are you doing in a place like this?"

He laughed with me. "Just having a drink before heading to a restaurant across the street. And I could ask you the same thing?"

"Nothing so noble. I'm here for the 'usual', a bit of a drink, a bit of a dance, and with any luck I'll go home with the love of my life, whom I haven't met yet!"

Dave smiled again, a look of surprised mirth on his face. "It's been so long," he said.

"Yep. Five years since we finished school. Do you, er, come here often?"

We both laughed at the line, and he answered, "No, you?"

I grimaced. "More often than I'd like, but you know what they say -- 'love won't come knocking at your door, you've got to get out there and look for it'."

He laughed then, a genuine, friendly mirth. "I have trouble imagining that you'd find it difficult to meet the right man. You look great -- always did! I wish I'd known at school that you were gay. I always admired you, you know."

My heart leapt. "I felt the same way about you! Don't you just hate it that we wasted so many opportunities because we were too scared to say what we really felt?"

"Yeah," he said slowly, and I could see him remembering the times at school, just as I was.

I drew a long breath, and steeled myself as I made up my mind to take that step I never could at school. He was so beautiful, and after all this time I didn't want to let him get away again. But I never got the chance. Just as I was about to ask him for a date, a heavy set guy came up and elbowed his way between us.

"What's this?" asked the larger man, suspicion in his voice, his eyes flashing daggers at me.

"Gerry -- this is an old school mate of mine -- Mike Trenton. Mike, this is my partner, Gerry," said Dave quickly. Almost too quickly, like he was trying to show that there was nothing more than a casual meeting between us.

"Hello," said Gerry, shaking my hand.

"Hi," I replied, looking hard at him, and feeling my excitement wither. "So, how long have you two been together?" I asked, trying to make conversation, and keep the disappointment from my voice.

"About six months," Dave replied, slipping his arm around Gerry's waist.

We continued chatting for about 15 minutes, re-living schoolboy jokes, and musing over past feelings that were hidden at school. The whole time, I had the feeling that if Gerry could have made me disappear with his eyes, I would have been gone in an instant. Finally, he broke into our conversation again.

"Come on Dave, we have to go or we'll lose our table."

"Okay," replied my old friend. "Nice to see you again, Mike."

"Yeah, same here. Take care," I said as they turned and left.

As I watched them walk away, I feasted my eyes on Dave's gorgeous arse, and wished once again that things had been different all those years ago, that we had been able to tell each other how we felt, or that I had met him sooner, before he and Gerry became a couple.

Two hours later I had all but forgotten about Dave. At least that was what I told myself as I downed yet another drink. I could feel the effect of the alcohol and decided it was about time I called it a night, when I felt a hand on my arse. I turned quickly, to find a good looking guy, dark haired and tanned skin, smiling broadly at me. I must have looked shocked, because he moved his hand away, and spoke quietly.

"Hi, sorry if I was out of place, but I've been admiring your butt, and the rest of you, for a while, and just had to cop a feel," he said.

I laughed then. "Well, you're honest enough, that's for sure, and straight to the point too!"

"I've been trying to catch your eye for a while, but you seem to be distracted," he said, almost accusingly.

I blushed. "I'm sorry, I guess I had something else on my mind. I'm Mike," I said, holding out my hand.

"Dennis," he replied, taking my hand in his and shaking firmly. I took the chance to examine him more closely. He was certainly a handsome man, obviously fit, and well built as well. Not really the sort of guy I would usually take to, but he was impossible to ignore standing right there in front of me, almost against me.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked, but I shook my head.

"Thanks, anyway, but I think I've had enough for one night. I was just about to head home."

"Well then, how about a coffee? I make a mean cappuccino, and my flat is just around the corner," he said, adding softly, "and I'm sure I can take your mind off whatever is bothering you." As he did, he ran his finger slowly down the front of my shirt and onto my jeans, lingering as he pressed against the bulge of my groin.

"You ARE straight to the point, aren't you?" I grinned. "Okay, you're on, mate. Lead the way."

We left the bar arm in arm, and within minutes were at his home. The moment we stepped inside the door, he threw both arms around me, spun me to face himself, and planted a kiss on my mouth. I figured the coffee was forgotten as he practically carried me to his bedroom and we remained locked at the lips. The energy and enthusiasm he displayed was contagious, and I quickly felt myself becoming aroused. He was certainly a handsome man, and my natural urges kicked in quickly.

We rolled around on his bed, quickly shedding our clothes and groping, squeezing and kissing at each other with a growing fervour. I tried to work my mouth down across his stomach, but he lifted my head away and rolled us both over so that he was lying between my legs, his arms under and around my thighs. He lowered his mouth over my raging erection, and as the warm wetness of his throat enveloped me, I moaned with pleasure, my fingers going to my chest where I played with my own nipples while he sucked and slurped his way down the length of my cock. I lay back in blissful enjoyment of his attentions as his talented lips stroked my raging hard-on, his mouth coating my rod with the warm moisture of his saliva.

I began to buck my hips upwards, into his soft wet gullet, as he dived down again and again onto my cock. After a few thrusts, he lifted his face away and smiled at me, a lusty grin.

"Oh yeah, man," he hissed. "I'm gonna ride that monster good!"

With that, he knelt up quickly and climbed over me, straddling my body and sitting his bum down on my pelvis. Leaning forward, staring into my eyes the whole time with an eager smile, he reached back and grabbed hold of my shaft, guiding me towards himself as he lifted slightly and positioned his hole over my rampant tool. The head of my cock made contact with the soft hot flesh of his arsehole, and slowly but steadily he lowered himself onto me. I felt the soft tissue of his bud yield to my hardness, felt the muscles of his sphincter surrender as my cockhead forced its way into his body, and then the creeping bliss of his heated wet cavern accepting the invasion of my throbbing meat.

Finally, his butt cheeks were resting on my thighs, my prong buried completely within him as we sighed together with the first waves of excited passion rolling through us. I began to jab upwards, to force my tool deeper into him and thrust at the soft squelching heat of his body. As I did I reached for his nipples with my free hands, but he brushed me away quickly. His own hands fell to his groin, one lifting and squeezing at his balls, the fingers sliding back to surround my shaft as it pistoned in and out of his hole, the other hand gripping tightly around his own cock as he started to lift and drop in a steady and increasing rhythm, fucking himself on my upturned weapon.

Meeting his passion with my own, I thrust up into him, arched my back and pounded my aching cock into his willing hole as he gripped and relaxed around me. He did as he had promised -- he rode me like a bucking bull, rocking against me, lifting and dropping, using the weight of his body to drive my cock deeper and deeper into himself as I thumped myself against his butt. The sensations enveloping my penis were fantastic, but I somehow yearned for more. There was no other contact between us than the penetration of his body by my prong and the weight of his arse on my thighs. My hands rested on my chest, and my fingers found and began playing with my own nipples as my eyes closed and I tried to make the most of the rollicking fuck we were sharing.

My mind wandered even as we were joined like this. The physical sensations were incredible, yet I felt as though climax were a long way from me. I usually preferred to bottom, so maybe it was being the 'fucker' rather than the 'fuckee' that was my problem? But no, I was enjoying this immensely. Then why couldn't I just let go and really get into this coupling? Maybe, it's the alcohol I've had, I told myself. I tried to block the thoughts from my mind, and concentrate on the purely physical pleasures emanating from my cock, and the tingling of my fingers playing with my tits.

I became aware that his grunting and moaning had taken on a new timbre, a greater urgency, and I opened my eyes, to see him literally bouncing up and down on me now, his eyes closed and his face contorted as his hand flailed in a blur at his erection. Suddenly, and without warning, he dropped hard against me, impaled himself on my dong, clenched his hole tightly around my shaft and gasped. His cock exploded, shooting wads of cum up and out, splattering my chest and stomach with his cream as he twitched in climactic release. For several minutes he continued to be rocked by spasms as my throbbing prick was buried deep inside him and his nuts emptied their juices onto my body. Finally, the heaving slowed, and he opened his eyes, looking at me with a satisfied smile as his frame slumped down in exhausted completion.

He lifted himself off me, grinning, and knelt beside me on the bed. "Thank you!" he said breathlessly as I lay there, my cock slimed but unfulfilled and throbbing with need. I reached for myself, my right hand closing around my own shaft and my left pinching hard at my tit as I began to jerk off.

"Can I help?" he asked quietly.

"Finger my arse!" I hissed at him as I began to masturbate, my eyes closing and my face contorting. I felt his hand at my butt, felt the tentative intrusion of his finger into my puckering sphincter, and I pounded my cock with my fist in a fury of need. My mind went blank as I felt the urges boiling up within me, and then the blessed eruption of release as my cock exploded, wads of cum flying up into the air and crashing down again, joining the lake of ejaculate he had already deposited on my abdomen.

As my orgasm faded, my hand trailed in the sticky ooze which had collected on my skin, mixing our joint emissions together. I smiled at him, and took his hand, leading it to the collection of cream, but he pulled away again.

"Sorry, man, but I can't ..." was all he could say.

Ten minutes later he was wiping me clean with a towel, looking tenderly into my face as he did. I could feel a genuine enjoyment and real sense of satisfaction in him, and I felt gratified by the physical release I had experienced, but somehow not fulfilled.

"You were incredible!" he said softly, leaning down to place a tender kiss on my lips.

"Thanks," I responded, "you were great too."

"My name's Dennis," he said simply, looking me in the eye. I was surprised at the tone in his voice.

"I knew that," I said, confused. "You told me at the bar."

"Well, it's just that when you were cumming, you called out 'Dave' a couple of times."

I turned bright red, felt the heat rushing to my face. I was so embarrassed. "Oh shit, I'm really sorry, Dennis," I said, sincerely. I could have crawled under a rock and hid at that moment.

"Hey, it's no big deal," he reassured me. "Hard to remember a name so quickly."

We lay side by side for a long while, quiet and just touching against each other. I don't know what he was thinking, but my mind was racing. Why had I called out Dave's name during sex with someone else? Why didn't I remember it? What was Dave doing now, I wondered?

It occurred to me that I was being totally unfair to both Dennis and Dave, and to myself. I raised up on one elbow, and trailed my hand across his chest slowly, making him smile, and sigh happily.

"It's getting late," I said slowly. "I should head home. Thank you for a wonderful evening."

Dennis opened his eyes and looked at me. there was a yearning in his voice as he said, "you're welcome to stay the night ...?"

"Thanks, but no. I think I should really get back to my own place." A sense of guilt began to gnaw at me. "Would you like my number? Maybe we can get together again some time?" I asked him, trying to sound like I wanted it.

A resigned grimace was on his face now. "No, that's okay," he said softly. "Thank you for tonight, and I hope Dave realises what he's missing!"

I blushed again, but couldn't find any words. I dressed quickly, taking his hand as I made to leave. "Thank you again, Dennis, really," I said, and walked away. Was it possible to feel any worse than I did right now? I doubted it.

 

Chapter Two -- Almost Forgotten

Several months had passed since the night I had bumped into Dave in the bar, and gone on to embarrass myself with another man. For a few days afterward, I had tried to examine my feelings that night, had tried to work out why I had called out Dave's name during sex, given that I had never had sex with Dave, and that my fantasies of him were from long ago when I was just a kid at school. Eventually, I persuaded myself that it had all been a combination of alcohol and bumping into my old friend at a time when I was feeling a little down, and as time went by I pushed it to one side, telling myself it was forgotten.

And I almost believed it was by the time I met Steve.

Some friends of mine, who were concerned about the fact that I seemed to be depressed a little, and who had decided that I needed a boyfriend, brought us together, playing matchmakers. I first met Steve at a large party organised by a friend of a friend -- the sort of thing you go to because you feel you have to not to cause offence by refusing. Steve was there under similar circumstances as myself, making an appearance because he felt it would be impolite not to. I was introduced to him, and we chatted for a while amongst a small group.

Nothing came of the meeting, and nothing was said by either of us or by any of my friends, so I thought nothing more it. Steve seemed to be a nice guy, if a little hard to talk to. He was the quiet, shy type, and it was difficult to get him to open up and say much. The next time we met was at a smaller get together -- around a dozen friends or acquaintances, and I was surprised, but not upset, to find him there. It didn't occur to me to notice that more often than not other people at the party were drifting around, yet Steve and I almost always seemed to be pushed together. Once again, when the day was done, I remember thinking that he was a pleasant kind of man, easy on the eyes, if not inclined to get into any kind of deep conversation, but that was all. I had no real interest other than the usual passing stir when you meet a physically attractive man.

The penny finally dropped when I showed up at a dinner party for some close friends. There were 8 of us, three couples, myself and Steve! Suddenly it was glaringly obvious what was going on, and I glowered at Neil, our host, who grinned back like the proverbial Cheshire cat. Steve had obviously not been aware of the plans either, and my flushed embarrassment was matched by his glowing cheeks as we took our places at the table, amazingly enough side by side.

Later in the evening, by some remarkable co-incidence, everyone else seemed to have something to do in the kitchen, or outside, or in the living room, leaving just Steve and myself seated at the table. I turned to him as the last of the other couples made their excuses and left the table.

"It looks like we've been set up! I had no idea my friends thought I was so desperate," I joked to him.

He looked at me puzzled. "Are you desperate?"

"No, I didn't mean that. But I had no part in this, believe me. It's not that I didn't want to see you or anything, but they've made this arrangement for us to be together without telling me. I just wanted you to know."

"Oh, right," he said slowly. "When I was asked to dinner, I thought it was going to be a much bigger group," he said. "But I am glad to see you again." Once more his cheeks reddened, and I pretended not to notice his discomfort.

At that moment there was something very attractive, something positively appealing, about his childlike innocence and his uncertainty.

"Hey, handsome," I said, whispering conspiratorially, "since they've gone to all this trouble, would you like to get together next week sometime, you know, just the two of us?"

His grin split his face. "A date, you mean?"

"Uh huh! But let's not tell them about it, okay? Make them wonder, after what they've put us through."

"Yeah," he said simply, smiling again.

I returned his smile. "Okay, write your phone number down when you get a chance, and I'll ring you tomorrow, and we'll get together later. But we'll pretend to these guys that we haven't made any plans."

I watched as he digested this, and just then one of the others returned to the table. I made some small talk, bringing Jeff (one of the conspirators) into a light conversation with Steve and I about nothing important. For the rest of the evening Steve managed to look smug but not say much, and I saw him get up and scribble something on a scrap of paper sometime later.

Excusing myself, I brushed past him, and whispered to him "Is that your number?"

He nodded, and I took it from him, giving his large solid hand a reassuring squeeze as I did.

To the obvious annoyance of the others, when it came time to go, Steve and I left separately. He grabbed a taxi, while I smiled innocently at our hosts, thanking them for a nice evening, and walking casually to my car to drive home. I wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of knowing their ruse had actually worked.

The next day I phoned Steve at the number he'd given me. When I identified myself to him, I could sense the excitement in his voice, like a small child, eager and innocent. We arranged to meet on Friday evening for a drink at one of the smaller bars on Oxford Street.

When I showed up at the bar on Friday, Steve was already there. As soon as he saw me, he jumped to his feet, and as I reached the table, he threw his arms around me and gave me a huge hug, followed by a kiss on the cheek, bringing a round of chuckles and grins from the people at the nearby tables. I blushed a little, but at the same time felt somehow special being the object of such public affection. Steve's smile lit up his face as we sat and ordered a drink each. For the next hour, we chatted away happily. I had to direct the conversation, and to prompt him for more than just 'yes' and 'no' answers to begin with, but managed to get him talking about himself, his likes and dislikes, work, hobbies etc, while at the same time imparting to him similar information about myself.

It was still difficult to get him to engage in much more than basic conversation, and I soon began to realise that Steve was a little 'slow'. Not stupid, and not uneducated, just slow. He presented to the world as the handsome silent type, but his silence was more as a result of the fact that he had trouble following what was happening around him than an intentional mystery. Yet this very quality in him was somehow attractive. It gave him a degree of innocence, of naivete, that I found compelling, almost as though I wanted to protect him or look after him.

"Would you like to get something to eat?" I asked after some time. He nodded.

"How about Macca's?" he suddenly suggested. I groaned. The thought of fast, tasteless hamburgers was the last thing on my mind, until I saw the disappointment on his face. I relented.

"Okay, handsome! Let's go." As his smile returned, I wondered yet again whether I could really start a relationship with him, with someone so childlike in so many ways.

The 'Golden Arches' lived up to their reputation, and I forced down a burger while Steve happily devoured his meal. When he'd finished, he looked at me with a decidedly adult smirk, so different from his usual countenance.

"How 'bout coffee at my place?" he asked, giving me a wink that no-one could have mistaken. I chuckled at him then, and winked back, nodding my agreement.

His home was a comfortable, if slightly spartan, unit not far from the strip, and we reached it quickly. Inside, he suddenly became quiet again, almost nervous, as if he were unsure just what to do next. I took the lead, stepping up close to him, taking his hands in mine and looking into his eyes.

"The coffee can wait!" I said quietly, and leaned forward, kissing him softly on the lips.

That simple gesture released his inhibitions, and suddenly I found that whilst Steve may have been childlike in a lot of things, there was nothing naÔve or innocent about him when it came to sex!

He kissed me back, a gentle, tender kiss to begin with, our lips brushing against each other. Slowly, his hands went to my waist and around my back as his mouth met my own. For several seconds we remained like that as I closed my eyes and surrendered to the pleasure of a simple embrace like this. Then Steve's lips parted gradually, drawing mine open with them. I felt the first tentative probing of his tongue, and I responded in kind. I felt his tongue explore my teeth, my gums, as I tasted him for myself. Our lips were locked together as we remained joined at the mouth while he penetrated me with his tongue and made love to me orally. I had never experienced a kiss like it. His hands were at my head, holding my face gently yet firmly and my arms went instinctively around his body as I held him tight.

When the kiss ended, slowly, reluctantly, after many many minutes, all I could do was breath out a long, appreciative "WOW!"

Steve smiled again, said nothing, and kissed me quickly once more. My mind raced. I had never been kissed like that, and I was as hard as a rock, aching with anticipation from the stimulus of his kissing. My arms were still wrapped around him, and he dropped one hand slowly from my face, running his finger tantalisingly along the line of my jaw and over my lips before sliding it gently down my chest and stomach, to massage gently at the bulge in my jeans. I let out a sigh of delight, and his hand was replaced by his own crotch, full and straining, grinding against mine through our clothes as his eyes fixed on my own. I felt his hands again, this time on my arse, squeezing firmly at my cheeks.

Transfixed by his stare, I muttered softly to him, "I think we should move to the bedroom!"

He smiled again, and led me to his room, slowly, enticingly. In silence, we stood facing each other and stripped each other's clothes away, piece by piece, gradually as if unwrapping a long anticipated gift. I was so aroused by the tender, sensual way he moved, the way he touched me softly. I marvelled at the erotic and romantic sense of suspended time as we undressed each other. Finally naked, we stood again, inches apart as he looked into my face. His hand came up, and his finger touched the point of my nose, then slowly, ever so slowly, he began to run the tip of his digit over my face, my chin, my neck. He traced the lines of my chest, following the ridges of my pecs and pinching softly at my erect nipples. He inched his way down my stomach, poking with a smile at my navel, and then his eyes fixed again on mine, an enigmatic, but lustful grin in them as his hand encircled my balls, and his finger scraped slowly along the throbbing length of my shaft until he scooped the droplet of pre-cum away from the head of my cock where it was full and ready to fall.

My entire body tingled with the sensuality of his touch, my nerves racing with desire as I simply stood and enjoyed the most amazing sensation of his fingers exploring me. My dick was so hard it hurt and I swore I had never before been so turned on as I was at that moment.

I started to say something, but he held his finger to my lips -- the very finger that was now coated with the pearly drops of my pre-cum. With his other hand, he reached down and a similar drop of sticky liquid was retrieved from his own cock. This finger went to his own lips, and then he moved into me, and together we licked at both fingers, tasting both his and my oozings as we kissed again.

Now it was my turn to have him stand while I had the wondrous delight of exploring him. But I chose to do it not with my finger but my tongue. Slowly, gently, I licked at his face, felt the line of his jaw between my lips and the soft skin of his neck as I nibbled my way over his tanned skin. My hands joined in, sliding over his shoulders and down his back as my mouth inched across his chest, my teeth finding and biting gently at his nipples, pulling the dark skin out and letting it go as I licked and then blew warm air onto the tiny erections. I followed the line of his six-pack down, tracing the ridges with my tongue until I reached and probed into the warm hole of his belly, then continued on again. As my chin lowered, I intentionally avoided his manhood, moving to one side and sliding down his hip and along his thigh. I dropped to my knees, and continued my journey, slowly following the full length of his powerful leg lower and lower until my lips were on the top of his foot, which I kissed tenderly, and then moved quickly to the other foot to do the same in reverse.

Again I kissed and licked, nibbled and sucked at him as I gradually worked my way up his leg, twisting now to get at the soft and tender flesh on the inner thigh. He moaned quietly and spread his legs as wide as he could to allow me greater access, and I happily bit at him, sliding my tongue over the sensitive skin and getting closer and closer to his nuts. I pushed his meaty prong upward with my head, and closed my lips over his testicles, rolling the wonderful orbs around in their fleshy sac with my tongue. I swallowed his balls, first one at a time and then both together, massaging them in my mouth before letting them fall free again as my tongue began to trace the throbbing veiny shaft of his manhood, centimetre by centimetre.

The excitement I felt was easily mirrored in him, the hardness of his erection a telling indication of how he felt. His cock was like velvet-coated steel, yet it was alive and twitched with every beat of his heart. My lips slowly nibbled along that beautiful shaft and my tongue moistened it to a glistening sheen as my teeth bit softly at him, or scraped at the skin making him groan with pleasure. I reached the flaring ridge of his glans and traced that lip with my tongue, then allowed myself the delight of slowly coating his cockhead with saliva until finally I gave in to myself and licked greedily at his slit, tasting the copious quantity of pre-cum that was oozing from him and trailing in long streamers to the floor.

I licked at him again, and savoured the taste of his essence for a long moment, and then slowly closed my mouth right over his purple, rampant cockhead. Covering him with my saliva, I gradually lowered my mouth along his shaft, moistening it as I descended, letting my teeth scrape gently against him and feeling his solidity fill my throat. I did not speed up or slow down, but kept a steady, gradual pace as I swallowed him completely, determined to take him all without gagging. I managed to do just that, clamping my throat around him and massaging his cock with my gullet as I teased at his shaft with my teeth and tongue before drawing back again when I needed air. Then I began to bob up and down on him, my hands on his firm round arse cheeks as I began to blow him.

He let me continue for a few minutes, but I could sense his growing excitement, and soon he reached and lifted me away from himself with a smile.

"Lie down," he said simply, a request as much as an order, but one I happily complied with. As I lay back on the bed, he knelt beside me, leaning down and kissing me again, a long and passionate joining of our mouths which sent more shivers through my body. And then he began to imitate what I had just done, licking softly and gently at me, tracing his tongue slowly all over my body. The eroticism, the sensuality of Steve's feathery mouth against my skin was incredible, and I surrendered to the exquisite pleasure of his lips and teeth upon me.

When he reached my nipples he paid special attention to each of them in turn, licking first and then suckling at them before he took each hard brown nub firmly between his teeth and pulled it away from my chest. The tiny pricks of pain were nothing compared to the incredible pleasure he generated as he teased me like this and when he released my nips I groaned out loud with delight. Steve grinned down at me again, and continued on his voyage of exploration across my torso. As his lips found my trembling cock a shudder went through me and the glorious sensation of warmth which engulfed me was indescribable as he closed his mouth around my rod and suckled at me, drowning my prick in a sea of moist caresses and heated delights. I moaned again when Steve sucked both of my nuts into his mouth, and the pleasure was almost too much for me as he caressed them with his tongue and rolled them around between his teeth.

With a slurping noise he released my balls, and from where he lay he looked along my body and smiled again, a wicked, mischievous grin.

"Mike," he breathed in a voice heavy with lust, "I wanna plug you!"

"Oh yeah!" I hissed back at him. At that moment he had me so hot, so horny, I would have agreed to anything, although what he was asking was exactly what I had been aching for.

"Roll over!" he whispered, and I did so quickly. He slid a pillow under me, and I sank my trembling, rock hard cock into the softness of the cushion, my arse pointing upwards.

Tiny shocks of anticipation shot through me as I waited, my hole exposed and my body twitching with excitement. I felt the bed move a little as he positioned himself, and sensed his nearness as he crouched behind me. Suddenly, I felt the lightest tingle. Steve was gently blowing a soft stream of warm air onto my butt, directing the flow of his breath along the crack of my arse. I groaned with delight. Goosebumps erupted all over me with the magical sensation he delivered. That ethereal breeze was then replaced by the feathery touch of his talented tongue, as he slowly, sensuously licked his way along the valley formed by my cheeks.

He skirted my puckering entrance and continued with the flickering of his tongue across the super sensitive skin of my perinaeum, running back and forward between my anus and the base of my scrotum. I writhed with delight at the sensual eroticism, and ached with the building tension of anticipation. Steve kept up this delicious teasing for several minutes, until suddenly and without warning his tongue left off its caresses and delved quickly into my sphincter, gently probing at me and sending waves of pleasure through me. He coated my hole with a generous helping of his saliva and at the same time relaxed my ring of muscle and opened it gently and softly with his mouth.

Satisfied that I was now ready, [and I was!], he lifted his head away, and slid his body forward, resting his long thick cock in the crevice of my arse, his stomach against my back. He pushed my knees further apart with his own and began to rub his meat along my crack, moistening himself with the deposited wetness he had left. His pre-cum leaked from him and joined with the liquid already waiting, and then I felt the head of his prick make contact with the soft muscles of my arsehole, felt the pressure of his steel hard rigidity against my soft target.

And then he was inside me. His entry wasn't penetration so much as revelation. I was no virgin by any stretch of the imagination, but what he did to me that night made all my previous sexual encounters feel like just so much foreplay. I felt him sliding in, felt his flaring cockhead open my sphincter and push its way between the walls of my hole, but there was no pain at all. Instead, a sensual, gentle pressure massaged my anus and a wonderful feeling of sublime pleasure surged through me as Steve gradually began to slide deeper into my gut, filling me with his magnificent weapon. His long thick shaft caressed my prostate and the waves of pleasure which engulfed me emanated from the rock hard rod of manflesh he buried within me. His insertion was slow but steady and with every additional inch of his fuckpole that slipped into my willing rectum growing shudders of ecstasy rocked me to the core.

When he reached his full length, his sword burrowed to the hilt within me, he rested, and I moaned lowly with passionate enjoyment. He did not move his body for long minutes, but instead he flexed muscles in his groin which caused his cock to bob and twitch within me, teasing my innards and launching even more shockwaves of delight inside me. I was filled by him, and fulfilled. I felt complete, total, with his gigantic masculinity lost in my bowel, and I wriggled beneath him, delighted and inflamed.

And then he began to move in earnest. He pulled back slightly and pressed himself into me again, gradually building up a rhythm which massaged my gut and pleasured me from within. As he did, Steve slid his arms under my body, across my stomach, and lowered himself onto me so that his body made full contact with mine, his chest pressing into my back, his stomach hard against my skin. His hands crossed my chest and his fingers found and started to play with my nipples as he hugged me to him, all the while sliding his incredible tool in and out of my arse. I groaned with aching pleasure as the passion rose in me, sparked by his throbbing cock and spurred on by his pinching, pulling fingers. His tempo increased as he thrust harder and deeper into me, taking his pleasure from me and giving me more than I knew was possible. I went with his pace, matched his ardour as he pounded me, clenching and gripping at his dagger of flesh with my ring of muscle in time to his ramming.

The friction of my own prick against the soft pillow beneath me was driving my urges higher and higher and I breathed fast and hard as he really began to thump his meat into my soft, squelching body. As the needs of his animal instincts took over he ploughed my gut, and I humped back at him, clasping and heaving. We writhed together, joined as one entity, a single masculine coupling of pure sexuality. He fucked me. Hard, fast, and yet at the same time with a tenderness and consideration I had never experienced, he fucked me and I fucked him back. We were a fucking, humping beast, the two of us, moaning and gasping with the ultimate joy of total passionate abandon.

My senses reeled, and my body began to warn me that explosion was imminent, when Steve, his arms still around me, his body pressed to mine and his fingers still pinching at my tits, suddenly bit at the skin of my shoulder blades. I cried out with uncontrollable pleasure as his teeth closed over the flesh of my back. I felt him thud against me, driving his manmeat deeper into me, and stiffen as his cock swelled within me. Spasms rocked him and at the same time a jarring shockwave of orgasm ripped through my groin as my cock erupted, spewing my cum into the pillow beneath me. I could feel him twitching against me, within me as he emptied his essence into my body, his balls pouring his juices out of that huge pole and into the receptacle of my bowels.

Even as the tide of climax passed, he stayed there, my body wrapped in his, my arse filled with his manhood. Slowly Steve and I fought our way back to the land of the living together, still coupled as one. When I finally was able to breath again, all I could do was to whisper to him.

"Un-fucking-believable!" I hissed.

He gave a weak, satisfied chuckle, and slowly began to withdraw from me, as tender and considerate as he had been when we started. Finally apart, he rolled off me and onto his side, and as I also rolled to my side to face him, he looked dreamily into my face and murmured, "Thank you!"

I was lost for words. It was the best, most wonderful love making I had ever known, far better than my wildest imagination could have predicted.

Steve and I stayed together that night, and he made love to me twice more before the morning light forced us from the bedroom in search of nourishment.

**************

We quickly became an 'item'. I had no hesitation in letting my friends know I was seeing the most incredible lover on earth. I took him to parties and dinners, films and the theatre. He took me to barbecues and football matches, beaches and fast food joints. And we took each other to indescribable heights of erotic and sensual bliss.

Steve struggled to like the things I enjoyed, and I did what I could to appreciate his pastimes, but somehow neither of us felt entirely comfortable in the world the other inhabited. Several times I toyed with the idea of asking him to move in with me, but my logical mind told me I couldn't live permanently with someone so different. Of course, my cock and my arse argued that for what he had to give I could do anything! And so we went on, trying to like each other out of bed, unable to get enough of each other in the sack.

The best part of five months went by, and still our love making just got better and better. But away from the bedroom we were drifting. He began to find excuses to not come with me to dinner parties or shows, and I started excusing myself from outings to the footy or a hamburger joint. We did spend time together, going for drinks or dancing in bars and clubs most weekends, and ending up in each other's arms afterward, but somehow I knew deep down that despite the amazing sex, we were not destined to be a long term partnership.

It was around this time that I met up with Dave once again.

Steve and I had been out for dinner -- a compromise meal of pizza and pasta at an Italian restaurant -- and wandered into one of our favourite bars for a drink. We were standing in a corner, I with my back to Steve, who had his arms wrapped tightly around me, grinding his distended crotch into my denim clad butt. He began to nibble on one ear lobe, and I let my head fall back as I grinned. I loved the way he was so affectionate, and got turned on by his licking and biting at me, especially in public. As my eyes closed and Steve began to suggest some very interesting positions he wanted to try tonight, I was startled by a voice right in front of us.

"Well, well, Mike Trenton. Long time no see!"

I looked up quickly to find Dave standing there, grinning at myself and Steve.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything?" he said with a smirk, and added, "although this is a public bar you know!"

I blushed for a second, and started to cough until I found my voice. "Hi, Dave. Good to see you again." The hard poker of Steve's restrained cock was still pressing into my back, demanding attention. Turning slightly, but not losing contact with him, I indicated the man behind me. "Dave, this is Steve. Steve, meet Dave, an old friend of mine from school."

"Hi Steve," Dave smiled.

"Hi," said Steve quietly, a grin splitting his face as he did.

I looked around, and said to Dave enquiringly, "Where's um ..."

" ... Gerry?" he finished for me.

"Yeah?"

"Gone! We split up some time ago. He was too possessive, wouldn't let me out of his sight and I felt smothered. It wasn't a nice break." He grimaced as he said it.

"Hey, I'm sorry, mate," I sympathised.

"That's okay. Looks like you found your Mr Right," he said, nodding at Steve. Steve grinned back and hugged me tighter.

"Uh huh," I murmured, as Steve planted a big kiss on my lips.

"Well, I should be going," Dave stammered, an look in his eyes I couldn't identify as he studied Steve and I closely.

"Oh, okay. Hey, we should get together one night, talk over old times," I offered.

"Yeah, that'd be good." His tone was non-committal, like he suddenly wanted to be as far from the two of us as he could manage. "Maybe I'll catch you later on." With that he was gone.

I puzzled over Dave's reaction to me, to us, for the rest of the evening. I wondered at his words as Steve and I walked back to his place hand in hand. I even thought of Dave fleetingly as Steve undressed me with his teeth that night, but soon put him out of my mind as the incredible lover in my bed whisked me away to places of incredible pleasure.

Over the next few weeks I thought more and more about Dave, wondered where he was, what he was doing. I looked for him whenever we went to the bars, and more than once I pictured Dave as my partner when Steve and I were making love. The guilt that this induced made me swear to myself that I had to stop thinking about him, but somehow, I just couldn't keep him from my mind.

 

Chapter Three -- False start??

Steve and I stayed together for another three months after the night that I bumped into Dave again at that bar. We tried, really we did. But as wonderful as our sex life was, outside of the bedroom we seemed to be less and less alike as time went on.

He struggled at the small intimate dinner parties I loved so much, did all he could to keep up his side of the conversation, but just seemed to lose interest. When we went to the theatre he would go through the programme, reading all about the show beforehand, and attempting to follow the plot, but invariably his eyes would droop and his head nod forward well before the final curtain.

For my part, I did my best to sit through the smash-em-up movies he loved without wriggling like a cat on a hot tin roof. And I honestly tried to get the hang of football. I read up on the rules, watched the sports reports on TV, and went along with him and his mates to the home games, but somehow I always managed to miss the crucial move, or to cheer at exactly the wrong time.

After each and every failed attempt at socialising together, Steve and I made up for the awkwardness with passionate love making, taking each other to places mere mortals only dreamed of. He was, without doubt, the best lover I had ever known. The things he did to me and for me were unbelievable, sending me to the highest peaks of sexual bliss over and over again. And, all modesty aside, he proclaimed that I was his perfect partner, that no-one could come close to me when it came to ultimate erotic excitement.

As the weeks and months slipped by, we spent less and less time together except for our escapades in bed. I knew in my mind that this wasn't right, that we needed to part if either of us was to find true love, but whenever I determined to raise the subject with Steve, my resolve would melt way with the first touches of his fingers on my neck, and the feel of his tongue against my lips. My head said no, but my body ached for the delights he bestowed.

It was late August, and the cold winds of winter showed no indication of letting up, when I decided it was time to call an end to our relationship. Steve had gone to the footy -- it was an important game with the season drawing to a close -- and I had arranged to meet him at his place around 7.00. By habit, I checked the results, Steve's team had won, which meant he'd be on high, and I set out with a sense of dread. Right on time, I knocked at his door, and he flung it open, dragging me inside quickly with a huge smile on his face, and threw his arms around me. As his lips found mine and his hands sent tingles down my back, I began to melt, felt the strength to end it vanishing again. My fingers went to his neck and I began to tug at his ears just the way I knew would drive him crazy with anticipation. And then I stopped. The look on his face was of sheer disappointment, as the flame ebbed from him.

"Steve, we need to talk," I said, slowly but firmly.

"I'll bet you can make me sing!" he said smiling.

"No, seriously. We need to discuss ... us."

His smile left his face, and his hands left my back. I felt cold and alone without that contact, and my body screamed out to move against him, to have his touch back again. But he too was now somehow determined. He sat on the sofa, and I took a position opposite him, not touching him.

"I know," he said quietly. That made me look up and into his eyes quickly, surprised. "We should have talked a while ago," he went on. "But every time I want to talk to you, the thought of making love crowds out everything else."

That threw me. I don't know why, but it hadn't occurred to me that Steve might also have concluded that our relationship was not the perfect match, was something we needed to finish for our own sakes.

"Yeah ... !" I said. Not exactly deep, but I said it with feeling, and we both knew what I meant.

"Mike, ..." Steve began, then stopped to think.

After a minute or so, I took a breath, and started to speak. "Steve, the sex we have is incredible. More than incredible, it's absolutely amazing," I said, holding his gaze with my eyes. "But ..."

"... I need something more," he finished for me, for both of us. "I need someone who can join in without having to try, someone who wants to go to the games, and then grab a burger afterwards, before we come home together." His face was contorted with the difficulty of saying the words.

"And I need someone who likes what I like, with whom I can share my thoughts and not put them to sleep," I said in response.

"So we both need someone else!" he smiled sadly.

"I guess so."

"You know, I'll never find anyone as good as you when it comes to making love," he whispered, his eyes moist.

I felt the tears well, struggled to keep my voice level. "Ditto, handsome," I muttered. "We can still be friends ...?" I offered.

"No, Mike," he said firmly now. "We were never 'friends', but we were damned good lovers."

My mind spun. He was absolutely right, and I wondered if I had misjudged him all this time, if I had underestimated him. I probably had, but that didn't change the fact that we simply weren't compatible, except in bed.

"Thank you, Steve," I said, and with feeling. "I'll never forget you. You mean a lot to me, honestly, even if it doesn't seem like it right now."

He smiled then. "You mean a lot to me too. And you've taught me a lot." I thought to myself that the sentiment was mutual. "I know we can't be boyfriends," he went on, "but if you ever need to 'relieve the tension', let me know. God knows we're hot together!"

I chuckled at that, and leaned forward to take his hand in mine. I couldn't find any words, but we held hands for a long time, staring into each other's eyes, before I let go and stood up, letting myself out with a parting kiss on his cheek.

As I walked away from his flat, I found myself immersed in a sea of conflicting emotions. I was upset that my relationship with Steve was over, even though I had wanted it to end, and knew that it couldn't go on. I was sorry that I would not be continuing the amazing sex that I had enjoyed with him, and at the same time I felt liberated, relieved almost, that I was single again, a free agent, able to go out and look for Mr Right without feeling guilty, or bound to someone else.

*****

I won't pretend that I stayed chaste over the next few weeks. After I broke up with Steve, I dived back into the pool quickly, resumed my search for the perfect man, and along the way I managed to find several partners to share a drink, a dance and a fuck. I enjoyed the sex, even enjoyed the company, but none of them were quite what I was looking for. They weren't Steve, yet I wasn't looking for another Steve anyway. They just weren't ... well they weren't whatever it was I wanted. And to make things even more difficult, I didn't seem to know myself what it was I wanted.

And then it happened again. It was a Friday night and I had been drinking since shortly after finishing work. I had gone from one bar to another along Oxford Street, meeting up with a few acquaintances, sharing a dance or flirting outrageously, but with no intention of following through. The night was getting on, and the effect of the alcohol was beginning to take its toll, when I saw a familiar face in the crowd. Unsure if it was who I thought, I made my way over to him and tapped his shoulder, interrupting what may well have been a serious pick-up attempt by a tall blond guy who was talking to him. He turned around, and I grinned stupidly.

"Dave! I thought it was you. How are you?" I said, a little too loudly and a little too keenly.

"Hey, Mike, good to see you again, mate," he said, his lips curling into a grin. He glanced behind me and to either side. "Where's Steve?"

I was surprised that he remembered Steve's name so instantly, since they had only met once. And I sensed something else in his voice, almost a strain, but I couldn't make out why.

"Gone," I said simply. "We weren't quite right for each other."

"Oh, sorry to hear that."

"No, it was okay," I reassured him. "We both realised it, and we separated friends, before it developed into anything too serious."

"That's good," he said, a smile breaking out on his face. I sensed him relax considerably.

"How about you?" I asked cautiously. "Any new boyfriends on the horizon?"

"Nope. I'm single and loving it."

"Oh, come on. Everyone says that, and no-one believes it. How could you 'love' the endless searching, trying to make contact in a bar, wondering if he'll call the next day, the lonely nights at home alone?"

"Ooh, Mike," Dave grimaced, "I do believe that's the voice of someone who speaks with bitter experience!" We laughed together at his comment.

"But seriously, Dave, don't you find it all gets you down?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he mumbled. "I just find that no-one I meet matches up to my expectations."

"Me too," I echoed. "I have this standard that nobody can reach." I reddened then, unable to look him in the eye. My 'standard' was one I didn't even know myself, because I constantly compared anyone I met with Dave, yet I had no idea what being with Dave was like, but how could I tell him that?

He looked at me with a curious yet knowing glance. "Buy you a drink?" he asked, breaking the sudden silence. I nodded, and together we settled into a quiet booth at the back of the room, downing our beers and reminiscing over shared memories of school, regretting lost opportunities and speculating on what might have been. For the next couple of hours, we caught up on each other's lives, comparing experiences and past lovers, discovering we had similar interests and tastes, filling in the gaps so that by the end of the night it was as though we had remained close from the finish of school. And as we spoke, we drank. So much so that words began to slur and I found it difficult to stand up without swaying.

The night grew older, and we both grew drunker, until around 2.00 am, Dave stopped talking and looked around us. "Hey, mate, I think it's time we were outta here."

"You're place or mine?" I half joked, watching his face through the haze in my eyes.

"Which is closer?" he laughed, and pretending to hold each other up, we staggered out of the bar and into the street.

My home turned out to be the nearest of the two, and we were soon inside, recovering from the cold of the walk. As I let him in and pulled the door closed, my view landed on his arse, and I felt a twinge of desire as I watched the beautiful shape of his butt accentuated by his jeans. I directed him toward the sofa, telling him to make himself comfortable while I headed for the kitchen to make us both some strong coffee.

A few minutes later I returned to the living room to find Dave sitting upright on the lounge, his eyes closed and his breathing loud. He was sound asleep! I sat in the chair opposite him, drinking in the sight of his muscled, defined chest and the serenity of his handsome face. After all these years, I had finally gotten my dream man home, and he falls asleep before I can do anything about it! As I sat and stared at him, I slid lower into the comfort of the armchair, watching his contented slumber. My eyes felt heavy, but I smiled to myself. That was the last thing I remembered until I woke up the next morning, in my bed, alone and fully dressed.

I sat up with a start and instantly wished I hadn't. My head throbbed, but nothing a couple of aspirin wouldn't fix. With a little more care, I got out of bed and wandered into the loungeroom. There, stretched out on the lounge, his back to me, was Dave's form. His chest moved slightly in time to his breathing as he slept on. I tip-toed around him and into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee and swallow a couple of headache tablets. As the jug came to the boil, I heard a groaning from the living room, and poured two cups, grabbing some more tablets and a glass of water, which I presented to the now upright but groggy Dave.

"What's this?" he asked, still half asleep.

"Breakfast!" I declared.

"Oh, boy, we sure killed off some brain cells between us last night, didn't we?" he mumbled.

"Yep." We sat in shared misery, silently sipping our coffees and letting the pills have their effect, bringing us back to life. Almost an hour went by, and I was beginning to feel human again.

"Dave, why don't you have a shower, wake yourself up properly. There's a clean towel behind the bathroom door."

"Thanks," he said gratefully. "I think I need it."

Twenty minutes later, I had cleaned up the flat, and was sitting down to a glass of juice when he emerged with just a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still wet and his skin glowing and pink from the hot water.

"Oh, Mike, that was perfect. Why don't you hop in yourself, and I'll explore your kitchen, see if I can find us something to eat?" he said enthusiastically.

I did as he suggested, diving under the stream of hot water and standing there, letting the heat wash away the last remnants of the night before. After a much longer time than I usually allowed myself, I stepped out feeling immensely better and towelled myself off before draping the piece of cloth around myself and wandering back out into the living room.

Dave presented me with a couple of pieces of slightly burnt toast, and a look that said 'well at least I tried!'. I happily ate the food as he sat opposite me, still dressed only in the towel, his chiselled chest and narrow waist looking fantastic in the fresh light of morning. I could feel the beginning of an erection as I watched him, and shifted so it wasn't obvious as I sat at the table.

He had sat and watched me eat in silence, an enigmatic smile on his lips the whole time. I finished eating and wiped the crumbs from my mouth, staring at him with a questioning look.

"Are you okay?" I asked, wondering at his mood.

"Oh, yeah," he smiled again, standing and leaning against the counter. "You feeling better now?"

"Much," I replied enthusiastically. "How about you?"

"Yep, me too. Mike, thanks for letting me crash here last night."

"No worries. I don't think either of us was in much of a state to get any further than where we did. How did I get into bed anyway, do you know?"

He laughed. "I woke up about 4.00 this morning, and you were sound asleep in the chair opposite me. I tried to wake you, but no luck, so I dragged you into the bedroom, pulled your shoes off and dropped you on the bed, and came back here to get some more sleep."

I grinned and blushed at the same time. "Thanks," I said. "You know, you could have had your way with me last night? Taken advantage of me and I would never have known," I said, trying to sound pious.

Dave smiled wickedly at that. "But where's the fun if you can't remember? Besides, I doubt I would have been capable of 'having my way' with anyone last night," he chuckled.

I tried to look hurt. "Wouldn't you have wanted me then?" I asked in a mock tone of disappointment.

He lowered his voice, but his eyes were full of mirth as he matched my pout. "Of course I would, handsome! But if I was gonna do that magnificent body of yours justice, I'd want us both to be fully alert and giving it all we had."

Suddenly, the game was wearing thin. I felt a rush of blood to my cheeks, and a familiar tingling in my groin. I couldn't look into his eyes at that moment, as I realised that my words were far closer to my true feelings than I wanted to admit.

"Mike? Mike, are you okay?" Dave's voice came to me through a fog.

Shaking off my sudden change of mood, I turned to him again. "Yeah." I looked at him then, becoming serious, and quiet. "You know, Dave, back at school, and during those long hours in the pool, you were my dream, my fantasy. I used to wank off every night wishing you were holding me." I was expecting a laugh, or a sordid comment, but this time it was he who blushed and looked away.

When he did respond, it was almost a whisper. "If only we'd known ...!" His eyes were downcast as he went on. "I wanted you bad back then. After school finished and I came out, I used to compare everyone I met against my imagined version of you. I was sure you were straight, but I wanted someone just like you, and no-one ever measured up. And then when I finally found you and you were available, I wasn't. And later, you were with Steve ..."

My heart was racing as he spoke. He seemed so vulnerable yet strong all at once, and damn he was beautiful. I stood up and went to him, took his hands in mine and met his gaze with a steady look.

"But there's no-one else here now," I said softly but firmly. "Just the two of us ...?"

Our eyes locked as I inched closer to him, so close I could feel his breath, hear his fast-beating heart. And when my lips met his it was like electricity. We kissed, long and gentle, but locked together, tongues exploring teeth, saliva mixing as we tasted the forbidden fruit of each other. My arms went around his back as his hands lifted to rest on my shoulders, his fingers against the tender skin of my neck. Chest to chest, stomach to stomach, we stood and joined. The quickly rising hardness in my cock tented out the towel and I soon felt his erection pressing against my leg through the cloth he wore. We ground our pelvises together and the flimsy material fell from us so we stood buck naked, hard and desiring, against each other.

Desire was unleashed with that kiss, and the pent up urges of two men which had been held in check for many years. We almost wrestled each other to the bed, unwilling to relinquish the slightest touch on each other, stumbling and feeling our way across the room until we fell together onto the soft mattress. Freed from the need to remain upright, we rolled and twisted as one, hands rubbing, caressing, groping, bodies mashed together as our mouths remained joined, lips enmeshed and tongues jousting with each other. I could not get enough of him, nor he of me as we played and pinched, grinding and writhing with the release of our inhibitions.

Nothing was said as we continued our exploration of each other's bodies. No words were needed. We both knew what we wanted, and what we wanted was finally within reach. I rolled him onto his back and straddled him, my knees on either side of his waist, my hands on his wrists, pinning him down. In that position I could take my time, and I did, licking and biting at his chin, his neck, his nipples, then back to his lips for tiny pecks and pulling motions with my teeth. While my mouth worked on his torso, my arse rubbed and ground against his groin. I could feel the rigidity of his cock against my skin, and I moved purposefully to get the tube of his manmeat gliding up and down along the crack of my arse. I felt the head of his prick make contact with the soft ring of muscle that was my anus, and I pushed back, urging him against me. Still dry, he could not enter, but as I pushed I bent his prong until it must have been painful for him, but he made no protest.

Suddenly needing to be truly joined with him, I leaned over and retrieved a bottle of lube from the bedside table, but before I could do anymore, Dave heaved himself up and flipped me over onto my back, while the weight of his body now bore down on my abdomen, my legs still spread and wrapped around his hips. Now it was my turn to be teased and nibbled at by his mouth. I felt the velvety touch of his tongue across my neck, felt the warmth of his breath at my chest, and then groaned with delight as his teeth closed around my nipples one after the other. He bit at me firmly, pulling the erect nubs of skin away from my chest, twisting them with his teeth and then letting them go as he licked at the sensitive points. The pain was delicious, the eroticism intense as I gasped and shuddered with joy at what he did to me.

At the same time, his hand found the lube, and he spread a generous helping of the cool gel over his throbbing erection, before applying more of it to my arse with his fingers, sliding first one and then a second digit into me, opening my hole and massaging the sticky liquid over my muscles, readying me for his assault.

As the firm rounded shape of his knob found my puckering entrance again, I willed myself to relax and readied myself for him. He tried to be gentle, tried to take it slowly, but our combined need was too great. I felt the momentary pain as his cockhead opened my sphincter, and I pushed back to meet him. His thick meaty rod began to slide between the walls of muscle, and as it did I hunched myself backward, driving my body onto that fleshy pole and feeling him spike deep inside me. I gasped with the discomfort and the delight of having him, and my gut trembled at the penetration by his prick as his shaft rubbed against my prostate and his throbbing weapon filled me.

I was not going to allow him the slow build-up I would normally crave. I had waited so long for this moment, and as he sank fully within me, I clenched myself around his invading spear and milked his cock with my rectum. Dave moaned with the sensations as he buried his sword inside me, and quickly he began to hump at my body, driving himself deeper and deeper, harder and faster into me. I ached with the joy of our union and gripped back at him, released him and clamping again as he thudded in and out of me. For quite some time he continued to ram that pile driver of steel hard manflesh into my compliant body, and I felt the waves of tingling passion grow from the pit of my stomach where his tube of cockflesh filled me, spreading throughout my body and filling me with the lusty joy of ultimate masculine sex.

On and on we humped, harder, faster. The wet squelching sounds of his cock probing my bowel joined with our gasping breath and the squeaking of the bed. His skin glistened with the sheen of sweaty passion, and I could smell the aroma of male musk as he ploughed himself into me. I took all he could give and begged for more, needed so desperately to be coupled with him. "Fuck me, Dave, fuck me hard!" I hissed at him, and he did. My hands were on his shoulders, pulling him harder into me, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist while my hole was speared by his manhood. We crashed against each other, humping and cursing, pounding and hissing as we fucked each other with animal passion, lost to the world, oblivious to everything except our thundering fucking. He slammed himself into me and I took his prong, clenched it within me and owned him as he plumbed the depths of my gut.

I knew he was close to the edge, could feel his peak approach as he thumped harder and faster at me. Our eyes locked, and we stared deep into each other's soul, each seeing the need and the pleasure in the other. And at that moment his eyes widened, his body tensed, and he crashed one final time into me, his cock swollen and rampant. Burying his sword to the hilt within my body, spasms shook him and I felt the force of his orgasm explode as his nuts emptied their precious load into his shaft, his cock pumping a river of cum deep into my bowel. His voice called out a strangled yell, and with our eyes still locked together, my climax erupted. Wads of hot white cream shot from my prick, splattering against his gut and spraying up onto my chest and abdomen. Together we tensed, together we spasmed and shuddered, and together we slowly collapsed in exhaustion as the tide of orgasm receded. With his cock still firmly buried inside my rectum, he fell forward onto me as I relaxed myself and threw my arms around him. Curled up into a ball, and not wanting to let him go, I lifted my head and we kissed again, long and satisfying.

Aching from the exertion, Dave began to pull himself from me. Reluctantly I let him go, but not before I squeezed again with the ravaged muscles of my sphincter, milking every last drop of his essence from him. Now we lay side by side, arms entwined and mashing together with the slimy glue of my ejaculate. We looked again into each other's eyes and smiled, the happy smile of a dream finally sated.

"Holy fuck!" he said eloquently.

"Ditto!" was my evocative reply.

As our breathing slowly returned to normal in the hazy glow of post-coital warmth, we held each other tightly. "Maybe all those years of wondering and waiting were worth it," he said quietly.

"Well my imagination didn't do justice to the real thing!" I smiled back at him. I was in a state of pure bliss. This was not the ultimate sensuality I had known with Steve -- nothing would ever compare with that -- but somehow it was better. Making love with Dave was like a joining of mind and body, as though two separate pieces of the one being had finally come together to make a complete whole.

Almost an hour later, Dave leaned up on one elbow and stared into my eyes. "So, do you think I could possibly see you again?" he asked, as if we were strangers, two guys who had picked up some trade for the night.

I hit him with the pillow.

For the rest of the weekend we were inseparable. We talked and joked as though we had been together for years, but we also tried to make up for lost time, making love again and again as we exhausted our bodies and surrendered to our urges. The sex we shared was fantastic, but the time together when we weren't engaged in sweaty congress was even better. I had found my soulmate, and every minute with him was a joy.

Over the next three weeks, Dave and I saw each other constantly. We began to meet after work for drinks, get something to eat and then go to one or other of our homes where we happily and lustily joined together in rollicking sex. We spent the weekends together, and we ignored our friends, as often happens at the beginning of a relationship. I felt my attraction to Dave growing all the time, and began to think that this really was it, that we should begin to talk about some long term plans.

We had arranged to meet for dinner that Friday night, and I was in a bubbly mood as I walked toward the cafÈ. Another weekend to spend with my man -- that was how I was coming to think of him -- and I had decided it was time we started meeting each other's friends as well. I got there first and waited for him, unable to keep the smile from my face. When he arrived, I stood up and waved.

"Hi there, handsome," I said happily as he sat down, giving him a peck on the cheek, which made him smile and return the kiss. But there was something in his face I couldn't identify, some kind of concern.

"Hi Mike," he said simply as he looked at me again.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, wondering at this mood I hadn't seen before.

"Yeah, ... well, no, ... well ..." he trailed off as I gazed questioningly at him.

He took a deep breath, and a sense of foreboding grew in my mind.

"Mike, I don't know how to say this, we've only just found each other after so long ..."

My brain dreaded the words that were coming, but I put on a brave face. "Just say it, Dave, get it over with!"

"The company I work for want me to manage a major project. It's a huge job, with lots more money and a giant feather in my cap, ..."

I brightened. "Great! So what's the problem?"

"It's in Melbourne! They have already started plans to relocate me, find me somewhere to live, settle me in. It will be a huge job, could last up to two years."

The look on my face must have been shock. Dave stared at me. "Mike? Mike, are you okay?"

"Melbourne!" I gasped. "Two years? Fuck! It's so far away, and so long."

"They do have telephones, you know?" he offered with a wan smile. "And it's only an hour and a half flying time ..."

"When?" was all I could manage as my mind reeled at the news.

"They want me to start down there a fortnight from Monday."

"Two weeks! Is that all? Shit!"

"Mike, I don't want to lose you again, but I really need this job. It's not that bad. We can talk every day, and I can't see why we can't get together every couple of weeks. You can fly down for weekends, or I can fly up to Sydney to be with you. Please, please tell me it'll be alright?"

I smiled then, pretended to brighten up. "Of course it will, handsome. We'll manage somehow." But in my mind I thought of all the difficulties of long distance affairs. Deep down inside I had a bad feeling about this. We were going to be separated by almost a thousand kilometres, and two years was a hell of a long time!

 

Chapter Four -- Absence Makes the Heart ... ?

Dave and I spent most of the next two weeks together. We made love often, passionate rutting sex that echoed the sense of impending frustration at his leaving. We shared our thoughts and enjoyed each other's company, but overshadowing the whole time was his imminent departure.

The weekend of his move dawned bright and sunny. His furniture and most of his possessions had been packed up and shipped off at the company's expense the night before, and should arrive in Melbourne by road about the same time we got there by air. I was going with him on this trip. I'd quickly organised a ticket and cleared the time so I could travel down, see his new home and help him settle in.

When we landed at Tullamarine airport, the sky was low and grey. Typical, I thought, and a perfect match for my mood. His company had found him a place in Prahran, just off Commercial Road, and as the taxi sped into the city on the freeway we held hands, he staring out at the passing suburbs, I lost in contemplation.

We collected the key from the real estate agent as arranged and let ourselves into the empty flat. It was a very nice place, with a large living area and two bedrooms, and a balcony, although no view to speak of. Empty, it looked huge, but I knew that once his furniture arrived, it would fill up quickly enough.

"Easy walking from the bars on Commercial Road," I observed, and he grinned. I had been to the southern city often enough to know where the gay night life was, and he was in the thick of it. The company had actually chosen the area because it was a fast tram ride from the office where Dave would be working.

"Do I detect a note of jealousy, young man?" he said mockingly.

"Absolutely! I was planning on having you to myself, and here you are surrounded by men, all of whom are going to be chasing that gorgeous bod."

"Ahh, but it's yours for the taking right now," he said invitingly, moving to me and kissing me.

My hands went to his chest, then slid around his waist as I melted against him, tasting his lips and feeling his growing hardness. I began to grind myself against him, feeling my excitement grow, when a shrill buzzing issued from the intercom. The removalists had arrived, putting a premature end to our interlude.

For the next couple of hours we worked with the labourers, getting the furniture in place and directing as to where the various boxes should go. By mid-afternoon, the guys were done, and Dave and I were alone again, starting on sorting and unpacking. Luckily, he had had the foresight to pack one carton and clearly mark it as 'essentials' -- it contained coffee, sugar, mugs, a jug, as well as toiletries and other items which he would need that first day even if we didn't get any further with unpacking the rest of his things. I made us a coffee as he started on making up the bedroom, and when I called to him, we sat together on space cleared on one of the lounges to sit and rest, and survey the mess.

"Ugh!" said Dave with feeling. "I can't stand the thought of doing any more today. After being up early and flying down here, then carrying boxes, they can stay where they are until tomorrow!"

I grinned at him in sympathy. "Tell you what, stud," I offered, "you get the most immediate things out of the way, and I'll go get us some real hot coffees, cappuccinos, and a snack, and we'll take the rest of the afternoon off, okay?"

"You're on!" he declared immediately. "But make the snack something substantial. I don't know if I can face going out for dinner tonight, and there's no way we're going to be doing any cooking in here today."

Half an hour later I was back, with some basics such as milk and bread, a French stick and some butter, cold cuts of meat and a couple of tomatoes. As I let myself in and deposited the bundle of provisions on the kitchen counter, I called out to him since he was nowhere to be seen.

"Dave, I'm back. Come and get you're coffee before it goes cold."

"Bring it in here," I heard a muffled call instruct me from the bedroom. Curious, I left all but the coffees where they were and wandered into the bedroom. Dave was lying stretched out on the now made bed, naked, his cock erect as he slowly jerked at it with his right hand. His left hand pinched lazily at his own nipples.

"You wanted a snack?" he hissed in a hoarse whisper. "How about some hot sausage to chew on?" His tongue licked at his lips as his hand held his meat suggestively up toward me.

Grinning like a fool, I answered him. "Mmmm, breakfast in bed, my favourite."

I quickly set the coffee cups down on a box in one corner where they were instantly forgotten, and almost ripped my clothes off in my eagerness to accept his invitation and join him on his huge bed. In a moment, I too was naked, kneeling on the bed between his spread knees, leaning over him to kiss his mouth and taste him before I happily began to nibble and chew my way down his body, making for that tantalising tube of flesh he was still waving around and offering up to me.

As my face came level with his groin, I was rewarded with a close-up view of his cock, hard and pulsing with blood, standing to attention right before my eyes. From this vantage I could clearly see every vein, every part of him. I focussed on the purplish knob, throbbing and needy, a large drop of clear fluid leaking from the slit at the very point of his prong. With my tongue, I reached out and caressed the long hot rod of flesh, licking slowly, sensuously down his shaft, tracing the ridges of his veins until I found his nuts. With my lips I massaged the rolling orbs in their sac of skin, gumming at his balls and sucking each one into my mouth so I could wash it and chew on it, before freeing his testicles to allow my lips to attack his cock once again.

Back up along the velvety steel of his rod I went, lavishing tiny bites on his skin as I worked my way to his cockhead. By now the pearl of pre-cum was growing and ready to leak out, and I licked at it carefully, tasting his very essence as my tongue ran all over the sensitive head of his penis, and traced the ridge of his glans. He moaned, quietly but happily, as I continued my gentle mouthing of his member. I needed it, needed him, and quickly I lifted again, opened my mouth wide, and lowered my warm wet throat over his tool, slowly gliding down and down, swallowing him inch by inch. My teeth scraped against his skin, and my tongue lapped at his shaft as my throat constricted around his entire length. My nose sank into his pubic hair and I felt the firmness of his nuts against my chin as I came to rest with his fullness inside me.

Fighting off the urge to gag, I began to bob up and down on that mighty weapon, slurping at him as I sank onto his shaft, sucking hungrily as I lifted away before dropping again. The head of his prick rubbed at my tonsils, but I kept my composure and covered his manliness with the warm wetness of my gullet as I blew him slowly and lovingly. His hands fell to my head, and he began to move in time with my mouth, thrusting up to meet me, jabbing himself into my throat, fucking my face with an easy cadence as he revelled in the sensations engulfing his rod.

As the tempo with which I sucked him increased, the sloshing sounds of my gurgling lips and throat filled the room. I felt his need increase, felt his cock begin to swell, and I knew he was close. Without warning, I lifted away from him, staring into his eyes, which flew open in disappointment.

"Oh, no," I said, grinning. "You don't get off that easily."

Sinking my face back down onto his body again, I left his throbbing cock standing aloft in the air, and pushed his legs up, allowing my tongue access to the sensitive skin of his perinaeum. He gasped as my lips found their mark, his lithe body squirming against my mouth as the delights of a tongue caress on that super sensitive area raced through him. Up and down I licked, from the base of his testicles, across the top of his arse hole and along his crack, then back again, flicking my tongue against his skin. Slowly, I edged in, and let my mouth linger at his anus, probing gently, slowly at him. He groaned, and I pushed further, delving into his body with my tongue as he trembled with need. My own need grew as well, and when I could wait no longer I lifted my head again.

"Mmm, not only sausage, but cherry as well!" I hissed lewdly at him.

Dave laughed out loud. "I don't know about 'cherry'," he said, "but god-damn that felt good. Now why don't you fuck me, stud!" and with that he handed me a bottle of lube that he had already unpacked and left beside the bed.

Eagerly, I smeared the cool, sticky gel over my cock, which by now was hard as a rock and aching to be inside him. I scooped some more onto my fingers, and carefully inserted them into his rectum, coating his muscle with the slick moisture.

"Roll over!" I directed him, and he quickly lay face down, lifting his knees so his arse was pointed up at my waiting prick. I moved in between his legs, and rested my length along his crack as I wrapped my arms around his body and held him tight. Sliding myself back, I felt the head of my cock slip along the crevice of his butt cheeks until it found the soft puckering ring of his anus, and then I slowly pushed forward, my own solidity pressing against the resistance at his entrance.

Dave moaned again, and I sensed him try to relax as he backed onto me. With a gentle nudge, the head of my cock slid inside him, opening his ring of muscle and filling his hole. He gasped with the pleasurable pain of being penetrated, and I waited while he adjusted. As his breathing slowed again, and he once more urged me on, I slowly inched inward, my shaft sliding between the walls of his rectum, nudging against his prostate and filling him. The wet heat of his body gripping and drowning my aching manhood was incredible, and I moaned with delight as his body opened for me and his chute swallowed me.

Encouraged by the murmured hisses of delight from my man, I leaned into him, my throbbing weapon disappearing into his trembling, glorious body. In a single movement I plunged steadily down until the solid roundness of his cheeks rested against my thighs and the entire length of my cock from root to tip was enveloped by his clutching arse. As I buried myself completely within him, I leaned over him and my arms embraced his torso, my chest against his back. I sought out and found his nipples, pinching them gently and kissed the skin of his shoulder blades.

"Oh, shit, Mike," he called to me, "that feels so incredible. Fuck me, mate, please fuck me."

I didn't need any encouragement. My cock was throbbing with delighted need as his moist gut wrapped it and caressed it. Holding him tightly, I began to move in and out, slowly, carefully. With each movement I felt him clench around me, then surrender as I plunged in again. I soon found an easy, sensuous rhythm as I thrust into his wetness, jabbed at his heat with my sword of masculinity. Probing his innards with my slicked tool, I owned his body, held him against me and ploughed deeper and deeper, driven by an animal need to be inside him, to fill him and fuck him. I rained kisses and bites down on his back as my fingers plucked at his tits, playing him like a musical instrument. The tune I played was a chorus of gasps and groans as Dave gripped and clenched, backing onto me as I shoved forward. The sloshing squelch of my pistoning cock joined with the squeaking bed to fill the room with a symphony of sex as we humped and heaved against each other, my speed increasing with each long deep drive of my hips against his arse.

Harder now I shoved myself at him. Deeper and faster, a battering ram, a pile driver sinking my log of muscle deep into his soft core. My butt was the hammer which drove my fleshy nail hard into Dave's accepting passage. The soft slap of skin against skin rang out as I ground my pelvis against his cheeks and took possession of his gut with my rod of steel. Jolts of passionate arousal shot from my groin up and through my being, filling me with the aching joy of imminent explosion as I fucked him. We rutted like animals, surrendering to our basic instincts and masculine urges as we humped and pounded, sweated and hissed, swore and fucked our way to climax. Suddenly, my orgasm was upon me, and I could do nothing more than hiss at him through clenched teeth.

"Dave, I'm ... uunnhhh ... cuummmm..." and then I exploded. My nuts drew up into my gut and my cock belched manjuice in a torrent of white hot cream, filling his gut and flooding his bowel with my essence. My body tensed and my cock swelled as I hit my peak. Spasms rocked me and the ultimate bliss of release shook me to the core as I twitched and shot a river of cum deep inside my man. I felt his hungry arse clenching and clamping at my swollen shaft, and keeping one hand on his nipples, I lowered my other hand to his proud cock, swinging freely beneath us. Grabbing at his meat, I took him in my fist and jerked at him, my hand flying up and down his log, slicked by the copious flow of pre-cum from his piss slit.

Gasping for breath, I continued to shudder and tremble within him, my dick buried in his body. Dave tried to say something, but his voice deserted him as I felt him tense around me, and with a powerful jerk his prick gushed creamy wads of jizz over my fingers and out onto the bed beneath us, splattering pools of white jism all around as he shook and writhed below me and around me.

"Uuunhh, ahhhhh," he muttered as our bodies began to relax, falling back from the crescendo of climax. Slowly I pulled back, withdrawing my slimy tool from his cavern, and he fell forward. Following his lead, I collapsed onto his back, the sheen of perspiration making us slide over each other. Slipping to one side, I turned to face him and he rolled himself to me. Our lips met in a long lazy kiss of sated recovery.

"Welcome to Melbourne," I said softly.

"Thank you!" he replied. "And now I really feel at home!"

We spent most of the next day getting him unpacked, finding places for his bits and pieces, and settling him into the new place generally. Of course, we did manage to find the time and the energy for a rollicking, gasping fucking that afternoon when he had me sit on his cock and bounce up and down as we watched each other's faces while we reached orgasm simultaneously. By late on Sunday afternoon we were both exhausted, but Dave insisted on coming to the airport with me to see me off home again. We took a cab, even though it was expensive, so that we could have the privacy we wanted to sit and hold hands all the way there, promising each other we would call every day, and that we would see each other again soon. As my flight was called, Dave threw his arms around me and kissed me, right there in the terminal.

"Call me, Mike!" he made me promise. I did, and walked slowly backward down the boarding ramp, watching him wave until I could see him no more.

It was a long lonely flight home, and I felt like shit when I finally collapsed on my sofa that night. I stared vacantly at the television, not taking any notice of it, and was startled when the phone rang about 10.30.

"Hiya, handsome," Dave's voice sounded cheerful enough. "Just thought I'd check to make sure you got home okay, and to let you know I'm missing you already."

"Thanks, stud!" I said with feeling. I did feel a lot better for hearing from him, but still my sense of losing something would not go away.

**************

Over the next two weeks, Dave and I spoke by phone every night. He was full of enthusiasm for the project, pleased with the start he'd made, and slowly getting used to life in a new city. It was going to be a busy time for him, and already he was working long hours. On the Tuesday night of his third week, I tried to call him several times, but kept getting his answering machine. When he rang back the following night, he apologised profusely, but a glitch had kept him at work until almost midnight, and he hadn't wanted to call me that late in case he woke me. I resisted the temptation to tell him that I had lain awake most of the night wondering where he was, or what had happened. After all, we hadn't made any real commitment other than a promise to keep in touch.

Three weeks after the move, Dave flew up to Sydney on a late flight Friday night. We spent most of the weekend in bed, revelling in passionate coupling and fucking ourselves to exhaustion to make up for the lack of sex over the previous three weeks. And when we weren't fucking, we relaxed together, happy in each other's company as he filled me in on the details of his project and I brought him up to date on the local gossip. We took the train out to the airport together and I smiled as he gave me another kiss in the boarding lounge before he disappeared again. My mind felt a little better, but the unease at being so far apart continued.

We developed a kind of routine then, taking turns to call each other, catching up on what was happening in each city. Our conversations were very much small talk, and there was no mention of commitment or long term plans from either of us. Dave was at me to come to Melbourne again, and I wanted to but finding the time was a problem. Finally, I decided I needed to see him again. I arranged to take the Friday and Monday off work to give myself a four day weekend, without telling him. I thought I'd surprise him by just showing up on his doorstep.

I took a 7.00 o'clock flight out of Sydney, and was out of the terminal in Melbourne by 8.45. I didn't fancy the tram trip into the city at that hour so I splurged on a taxi which dropped me outside his building a little after 9.30, and feeling both pleased with myself and excited at seeing him again, I gathered up my bag and knocked on his door.

When he saw me there a flicker of surprise crossed his face, before he broke into a huge grin and threw his arms around me, planting a huge kiss on my lips right there in the hallway.

"Surprise!" I stammered out.

"Mike, fantastic!" he exclaimed. "Come in here!" and he grabbed both me and my bag and dragged me into the flat. With the door closed behind us, I wrapped my arms around his waist and kissed him again, holding him tight and tasting his delicious mouth. As I did, he walked us backward into the living room. I heard a noise behind me, and broke our kiss to look around. My mouth must have fallen open with shock, for sitting there on the sofa was a man. Around our age, he was quite good looking, and he was doing his best to politely not notice the embrace Dave and I were still engaged in.

Without letting go of me at all, Dave spoke brightly.

"Let me do the introductions," he said. "Mike, this is Andrew. Andrew, meet Mike, my lover boy from Sydney!"

"Hello," Andrew said to me holding out his hand, as I extricated myself from Dave's grasp.

"Hi," I replied uncertainly, then went on. "I, uh, hope I haven't, uh, disturbed you ..." I stuttered.

"No!" declared Dave. "It's such a wonderful surprise to have you here. Andrew lives across the hallway. We met in the laundry room last weekend, and he just dropped in a little while ago."

"I was trying to talk him into sharing a late dinner of pizza," Andrew added with a smile, and the hint of a flush to his cheeks.

"Sorry, mate! I have something much better to eat now!" he said to Andrew, giving me a none-too-subtle wink which made me blush severely.

Andrew stood up with a chuckle. "Well, I better leave you two alone," he said. "Nice to meet you Mike, and I'll catch you up later Dave, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, thanks," said Dave to him vacantly, as Andrew let himself out.

Once he was gone, I turned to Dave. "I'm sorry," I said, feeling very confused. "I didn't think ... I should have called first."

"Why? This is a great surprise!"

"Well, I think Andrew had more than just pizza on his mind..." I let the words hang, let the suggestion sink in.

"No, you've got it all wrong! We just met the other day. He was complaining about having to do all the laundry because his boyfriend used to do it, but they split up a few weeks ago apparently."

"And you don't think he was 'interested'? Come on, Dave, I saw the way he looked at me when I arrived."

"No, no! He's just a neighbour, that's all. We both live alone and he was looking for someone to talk to."

I nodded and bit my tongue. No point in arguing with him , but I knew what I saw.

Andrew was forgotten for the rest of the night, as Dave and I made love, humping and sweating, fucking and gasping our way to orgasm three times before we collapsed into sleep.

The next morning, Dave was up and about early. As I lay in bed he bustled in to me, kissing me on the lips, and handing me a key. "This is to the front door," he said. "I'd love to take the day off, but there's no way. I'll try to get Monday off though, okay? Take yourself out and see the sights or whatever. I should be back around 6.30." And with that he was gone.

I dragged myself out of bed, showered and made myself a coffee. I poked around his flat for a while, deciding what to do with the day. About 8.30, just as I was getting ready to set out, there was a knock at the door. I opened it curiously, to find Andrew standing there, shuffling his feet.

"Hi?" I said, wondering at his unexpected appearance.

"Uh, hi," he said, slowly. "I know Dave has already gone to work ..." I wondered how he knew that but said nothing. "... I just wanted to say I hope I didn't cause any problems for you guys last night."

"Why would you cause problems?" I asked, watching him intently.

"You know, being here and all. I didn't realise you two were on together. I didn't know Dave had a lover already," he stammered out quickly.

It was my turn to blush now. "Well, we're not exactly 'on together'. We only started dating a little while before he moved here, so we're not a 'couple' as such, I suppose," I said quietly.

"Yeah, whatever," Andrew replied. "I just wanted to let you know that I wouldn't intrude, wouldn't have tried anything if I'd known he was taken." He turned and walked down the hall, leaving me to ponder his words, and to do some serious thinking about my relationship with Dave, and just where it was heading.

I went out for a few hours, wandering around the shops but not really interested in anything they had to offer. My mind kept thinking on what Andrew had said. Obviously, he had been interested in more than just a pizza. Did Dave realise that, was he just covering up with my sudden and unexpected arrival? Unable to concentrate on anything much else, I headed back to Dave's flat early in the afternoon, intending to take a nap before he got home so I could keep up with him all night.

As I pushed the door open, a piece of paper fluttered away on the floor. A note had been slipped under his door while I was out. I knew I shouldn't read it, but it was just lying there, unfolded, and I could hardly ignore it. Picking up the paper, I ignored my principles and read the words.

"Hi there stud. Sorry, but I lost your number when I got home last weekend. Would really like to connect again, if you're interested. Call me on 9995 1234. Geoff."

My brain did a backflip. How could he? We hadn't promised to be faithful, I knew, but I had just assumed that we were. Maybe I was the stupid one. Why should I expect him to wait for me when I hadn't offered any commitment, hadn't told him I loved him or that I wanted to be with him forever? But everything had happened so fast, finding him again, starting to go out with him, and then the sudden move to Melbourne. I had been so sure he felt the same way I did. And what about his enthusiasm when I arrived last night -- was that just an act for my benefit?

My first thought was that I would have it out with him as soon as he got home. And then I began to reason things through. If we argued and he threw me out I was a long way from home. If he convinced me to stay, which he could probably do very easily, we would have sex all weekend, and then I'd be back off to Sydney, and he'd be seeing Geoff again, and whoever else he wanted, and I'd never know. Suddenly, I couldn't face an argument with him, or even a deep and meaningful discussion. We were too far away from each other for anything to work. I'd known it in my heart as soon as he told me he was coming here. Quickly I packed my bag, and called a cab for the airport. I scribbled a note for him telling him I was sorry to have expected more than he could give, and suggesting he call Geoff back, left it next to Geoff's note, and dropped his key on the counter. I pulled the door closed behind me and went.

It took me five hours of nightmare waiting, arguing with ticketing staff, and fighting for cabs, before I was finally back home again. When I got in, there were already four messages on my machine from Dave, each one more plaintive and concerned than the last, begging to know what he had done, apologising, pleading with me to call him. I threw my things into the bedroom, sat down with my head in my hands and sobbed.

The phone rang, and I stared at it. After a couple of rings the machine picked up, and it was Dave again. I felt guilty for walking away as I had, and I grabbed the handpiece.

"I'm here," I said simply.

"Mike, Mike, what happened?" he was almost in tears.

"I'm sorry, Dave, but I couldn't stay. I came back and read Geoff's note. I shouldn't have I know but I did. That, and Andrew stopped in this morning. He definitely wanted you. And I wondered how many others there were."

"But I thought we had something special?"

"So did I, but I'm afraid I'm the possessive type, and I don't like sharing, especially when I'm living a thousand kilometres away."

Dave pleaded down the line. "Mike, I don't want to lose you after all these years. I'm sorry you had to find out about Geoff the way you did, but he was just a 'one-night stand'. And nothing happened between Andrew and me, honestly."

"Not yet, anyway," I snapped. "And there will be others, I'm sure."

"But we never said we wouldn't have 'flings'," he cried. "I have urges that need satisfying, and you do too, I know!"

"Maybe, but I don't want to be just one of the crowd," I said quietly, coldly. "It's probably unreasonable of me, but I want all or nothing."

"Then it'll be all! I promise, I'll wait for you."

"No, Dave," I said, sadly now. "It won't work, not while you're so far away. It's not fair to ask you to do that, and I would always be wondering. I'm sorry, but that's the way I am. It's better if we forget about us, okay?"

"No, dammit, it's not okay! I want you."

"Yeah, well sometimes we can't have what we want," I yelled, and slammed the receiver down, angry with both myself and him.

The phone rang almost immediately, but this time I ignored it. Dave rang three more times within half an hour, but I refused to speak to him, letting the answering machine take his pleading cries to talk to me.

For another two weeks, Dave tried to call me most nights. I took to leaving the machine on permanently, screening my calls so I wouldn't have to speak with him again, although every time I heard his voice my heart broke again. Eventually, he stopped calling, and I set out to try to live my life without him, but despite all that I had said and done, I thought of him every day.

 

Chapter Five - Long Time Passing

"How long is since you had sex?"

I looked up in shock. Neil was staring at me, having asked his question across the dinner table in front of four other friends.

"I don't think that's any of your business," I said indignantly.

"Yes it is," he replied, "especially when you sit here at our table with a morose look on your face and refuse to join in the conversation. You're becoming boring Mike, and I think you need a good fuck!"

"Yep," chimed in Peter. "I agree. And getting back to the question, how long has it been, Mike?"

I stared miserably at Neil, then Peter, then the others who were all looking to me expectantly.

"I don't know, a while I suppose."

"Almost a year!" declared Peter's other half, Rob. "Since that weekend you went to Melbourne chasing this faceless Dave we all heard about but never met, and came back with your tail between your legs. What did happen with him?"

"I don't want to talk about it!" I said emphatically, standing up and storming outside to get away from them, bringing the topic to a close, or so I thought.

Neil joined me five minutes later. "Look, Mike, I'm sorry if you're upset, but we're worried about you. You're a good friend, but everyone says the same thing. Over the last twelve months you've become very quiet, withdrawn. It's not healthy!"

"I'm fine, really I am."

"No you're not. You're still carrying a torch for someone who dumped you ages ago. You have to get out and live."

I began to sniffle as the tears formed. He had caught me at a bad time - it was exactly a year ago to the day that I had met up with Dave again in the pub and we'd both collapsed at my flat after a long night of drinking, to wake up the next day and make passionate love.

Neil saw the moisture in my eyes. "Hey, mate, are you okay?"

"He didn't dump me, Neil. I dumped him. But I miss him, more than anything. I haven't gone a day without thinking about him."

"But why ..."

"He was so far away, and sleeping with other guys. I couldn't bear being the occasional long distance fuck, to be fitted in amongst his regulars."

"Is that what he said?"

"No, but it's how I felt. It was better to end it. But I just can't seem to get him out of my head."

Neil just stood, and moved to me, holding me in his arms. I cried softly, letting out some long built up emotion. He waved the others away and let me get control again.

"Mike, you really do need to get back into circulation again. But you're obviously still not ready for starting another relationship. This is going to sound crass, but I think you should get yourself out and have some no-strings sex. Take yourself off to the baths or somewhere. It's a way of breaking the cycle of thinking about him when he's not around. Start with the easy part - sex - first, and work up to the difficult emotional stuff after that."

********************

A week later I was sitting at home alone, when Neil's words came back to me. He had been quite sincere, and serious, when he'd suggested I go out and get some anonymous sexual gratification. Maybe what he said made sense. I certainly wasn't getting anywhere sitting at home alone every weekend.

So I found myself at one of the saunas. It was a long time since I had been to somewhere like this, but the basic rules hadn't changed, and they fulfilled a purpose. Pay your money, collect your towel, make eye contact, find a cubicle, fuck, and leave. That was how it worked, I knew. No commitment, no questions, and more often than not, no names!

It didn't take long to find a potential partner. He was tall and solid, dark hair covering his chest, and I noticed him following me from one area to another as I explored my way around the place. I felt a rush of blood, a sense of nervous anticipation, and stopped near the door of an empty cubicle, turning to watch him as he got closer. He walked right up to me, looked me straight in the eye, and brushed past me, his arm lingering against my chest as he went into the tiny room and sat on the vinyl covered bench, looking at me still. I followed him in, my heart beating quickly. As I did, he stood and turned the latch on the door, giving us some privacy. The towel around his waist was carelessly dropped, and his semi-hard cock swung from his groin toward me. He lifted his hand to my chest, running a finger along the edge of my pecs.

"Hi," I said quietly. "How are you?"

"Okay," came the gruff reply. His hand slid down my abdomen.

"Been here long?" I asked, trying to make some kind of intellectual contact.

"Nuh." He loosened my towel and pushed it away, leaving me naked. His fingers grabbed at my slowly hardening cock.

"So where are you from?" I asked, feeling strangely nervous.

"Do you wanna fuck or not?" He sounded annoyed.

"Well, yes, I guess so. But can't we talk as well, at least tell me your name?"

He stood up, recovered his towel, and opened the door with an irritated snap. "Forget it mate. If I wanted conversation I wouldn't be here, would I?"

As he left, I sat down hard on the bench, mentally kicking myself. I knew how these places worked. Why couldn't I just shut up and get on with it? Feeling very glum, I stared at my feet, sitting there still naked, my towel lying on the padded platform beside me. I heard a cough, and looked up at the open doorway.

Leaning against the edge of the door, his towel draped over his shoulder, one hand slowly stroking a thick and growing tool, was a blond guy with a chiselled chest and impossibly narrow waist. He was gorgeous, and looked a lot like Dave. I forced myself to not think about Dave, and looked again at the man who was staring at me and fondling himself only a metre away.

"Busy?" he said in a low tone.

I stifled a chuckle. "Not now," I said.

He sauntered casually into the cubicle, an air of confidence about him. Locking the door behind him, he dropped his towel. His prick was now almost fully erect, standing out proudly in front of him. It was huge! Long, although not the longest I had ever seen, but thick as well. I looked at his meat, then up to his face which smiled at me, and back to his groin again.

"I saw the other guy piss off," he said quietly. "Didn't he want you?"

I smiled grimly to myself. "Not after I asked him his name," I said. "It's been a long while since I came here. I forgot how to act appropriately."

"My name's Warren," he volunteered, and I'd really like to fuck you!"

I tried not to sound shocked at his forthright comment. After all, that was why people came here. "I'm Mike," I said quietly. I looked again at him, taking the time to enjoy the sight. He was truly stunning, a beautiful man, and I wondered for a moment why he needed to come here for sex when he could have his choice of men at the bars.

"So, Mike," he whispered, "do you want it?"

"Yeah," I hissed, my cock suddenly throbbing erect. "I want it."

There was no prelude to our joining, no pretense at romance. He moved quickly to me, taking my now stiff member in his hand and squeezing me appreciatively. I copied him, wrapping my fingers around his massive tool. I suddenly wondered if I was going to be able to take him, he was so big.

"Uh, Warren, take it slowly, okay? It's been a while for me."

"No sweat, mate. You got any preference for position?"

"Err, no ..."

"Then lie back and enjoy!" he said as he knelt on the bench, spreading my legs and lifting my feet to his shoulders.

As my head rested on the vinyl, I felt his hands kneading my cock, and running along the crack of my arse toward my hole. He reached for a couple of sachets of lube from the bin provided by the management, and began to rub it onto me, using his fingers to insert the oozing liquid into my anus, opening me as he did. He was gentle enough, and careful as he went, although a little quick. I willed myself to relax and enjoy his attentions as I felt him force first one and then a second digit into me. Just as I was beginning to tingle with the pleasure of his ministrations, he withdrew his hand, and coated the lubricating gel over and along his huge pole of muscle.

He settled my knees on his shoulders and leaned over me and into me. I thought for a second he was going to kiss me, but no, he was just getting into the most comfortable position. With his fingers guiding the way, he nudged his firm round knob against my puckering hole and began to press forward. I felt the pressure against me, felt my sphincter resist, and willed myself to relax, pushing back to meet him.

"Slowly, Warren!" I cautioned again in a whisper, and he grunted an acknowledgment.

Gradually I felt my muscles yield to the insistent force of his cockhead. My anus stretched as wide as it could, and still his prick pried me open further. Whether it was because I had not been with anyone for so long, or whether he was exceptionally large, or a combination of the two I don't know, but as he inched forward, driving the head of his weapon into my hole, a searing knife of pain ripped through me. I was no virgin, but this was agony. I hissed and gasped, my breath coming in quick pants as I tried desperately to relax around him, to adjust to him. I swore he had torn me open as I ached from his insertion. When the mushroom cap of his flared glans finally passed through and my anus closed around his shaft, he moaned a low satisfied sound, but all I could do was grimace from the shooting pain emanating from my arse.

I bit my lip and blinked away the salt of tears that had come unbidden to my eyes as he stopped for a moment.

"Okay?" he hissed, and I grunted back, not wanting to admit that I was in agony.

He took my response as encouragement and began to push again, his thick, thick shaft slowly sliding between my ring of muscle and sinking into my protesting rectum. I squirmed with the discomfort, forced myself not to cry out. Even though his entry into my gut was slow and measured, it felt as though a beer can was being shoved into me. Finally, he filled me completely, the entire length and thickness of him buried inside. He rested a moment and began to hump at my body, slowly in and out, increasing his speed as the clenching resistance of my hole lessened. Gradually, the pain I felt from being ploughed by his huge log resolved into mere discomfort as Warren thrust into me, pounding his thick sausage into my wounded bowel.

The man atop me was obviously enjoying himself. And he was a 'talker'. As he thumped himself into me, he hissed.

"Fuck yeah ..." Ram. "Oh that's good ..." Shove. "Take that cock ..." Thrust. "You like it, don'tcha ..." Thud.

I lay there and accepted his plunging and his hissing, doing my best to relax and enjoy it. I blocked out the sound of his voice in my ears, and in the dimness of the cubicle, I imagined that he was Dave. It was Dave, in my mind, who drove himself into me, Dave who fucked my arse with intensity and lust, Dave who filled me. The discomfort faded, and with the help of my fantasy, I began to be aroused by this fucking. My cock returned to its previous hardness, and tingles of pleasure spread from my cavern, exciting me and stimulating me. With my eyes closed and my head back on the bench, I felt Dave holding me as Dave's cock thundered into me.

I was just starting to really get into it, to moan and enjoy it, when I was suddenly brought back to reality. Warren in the real world, as opposed to Dave in my imagination, had hit his peak. As he did, he grabbed at my legs, and pulled me back fiercely onto his massive tube of manmeat, shoving himself into me hard and deep, and shuddering with the power of his climax. I felt his cock erupt, a load of his jizz filling my gut as he twitched in release. In a minute or so it was over, but my eyes were closed again, my mind telling me it was Dave who filled me, as my hand flew up and down my shaft, flailing at my cock and driving me towards orgasm.

Warren leaned over me. "You about there?" he whispered, but I ignored him. "I can't stay in much longer," he warned, as his rapidly flagging tool was clenched by my arse, and I writhed under him as in my dream Dave fucked me harder.

With a gasp, I exploded, wads of cum shooting up and falling back onto my skin. As I reached my peak, I clamped my arse hard, and the spasm expelled Warren's now limp, flaccid prick from my body. He sat back on the bench and watched as I ejaculated several times before collapsing, spent for the moment.

"Hey mate," he murmured. "What did you say your name was? Mike? That was great, Mike!" He began cleaning himself up, readying himself to leave. "You wanna get together again sometime?"

"Uh, I don't know," I said slowly, not wanting to offend him with an outright rejection.

"No worries!" he said cheerfully. "I'm here every Saturday night, if you change your mind."

I smiled weakly, and watched him exit the room. What an existence, I thought to myself. How could anyone go through life spending every weekend having anonymous sex in dim bath-houses? Suddenly I had to get out of there. I cleaned up, dressed and headed home as fast as I could.

*********************

Several days later I spoke to Neil again.

"Have you tried to get out like I suggested?" he asked.

"I tried, but it was awful!" I related the whole sordid story, giving him all the details, including my fantasising that the man was Dave, as the only way I could get into it.

He clucked his tongue and shook his head. "Oh, boy. You really are in a bad way. Why don't you try to get in contact with this Dave guy again? Maybe that's the only thing that can save you!"

"I tried that the day after the sauna. His number is disconnected."

Neil tutted again, and pushed me for more information about Dave. He had been a 'no-go' topic since I dumped him, and consequently none of my friends knew much about him. Now Neil seemed determined to find out everything he could, and in my depressed mood, I answered him as best I could. It didn't even register with me to question why Neil wanted to know so much. Finally, he patted my back and got ready to go.

"Listen, Mike, this has gone on way too long. Try to cheer up, okay? You have to get on with life, and it's never as bad as you think."

"Yeah, yeah," I replied despondently. I doubted I would ever feel really happy again.

****************************

Time passed slowly, but my mood didn't improve much. As I had been for the last year, I worked during the day, went home and stared at the TV or wanked off to relieve the tension, and slept. I operated on auto-pilot for most of the time, not thinking about anything much at all. My friends continued to insist on having me join in at dinner parties, or going to the theatre, but I rarely enjoyed myself, and the comments about finding me a man began to wear thin.

One Saturday morning, Neil rang me. He sounded excited, pleased with himself about something, but I took little notice.

"Mike, do you have any plans for this evening?" he asked.

"Nah." My usual response.

"Good. I have something important to show you. Meet me at 'Chez Hommes' tonight, okay? I've booked a table in your name for 8.30."

My curiosity was piqued. I knew the restaurant he named, it was a small intimate place, good for romantic dates and quiet talk. Why on earth would Neil want to meet me there? "I guess," I answered uncertainly.

"This is important, Mike. Promise me you'll be there?"

"Okay, okay! I promise."

I showed up just before the allotted time, and asked for my table. The maitre'd ushered me into a booth at the back of the room, very quiet, very private. Again I wondered at what Neil could possibly have to show me that required such a setting. I sipped a drink as I waited, looking over the menu, when there was a cough beside me. I looked up and gasped.

Standing there, looking absolutely stunning, with a guilty grin on his face and a single long-stemmed red rose in his hand, was Dave!

 

Chapter Six - How Did This Happen?

I looked up at him, and my brain raced. How did this happen? Why was he here? What do I say to him?

"Hello, Mike," Dave said quietly, uncertainly. "It's good to see you again." As he did, he handed me the rose.

"Uh, hi. Thank you ." I murmured softly.

"Do you mind if I sit down?"

"Yes. I mean, no, please, sit," I stuttered, trying desperately to come to terms with his sudden and unexpected appearance.

"How . ?" I asked as he slid into the seat next to me, the question hanging in the air.

"A friend of yours - Neil - reached me through the company I work for. He rang me and told me that you really needed to see me. When I told him that you had never wanted to see me again, he said that you had changed your mind. He said to meet you here tonight."

So that was why Neil had asked all those questions.

"But, did you come up from Melbourne especially?"

"Melbourne? No, that job finished earlier than expected. I moved back to Sydney about 2 months ago. I really wanted to call you, but I kept remembering how you left, and how you refused to take my calls, and I couldn't put myself through that again."

I sat for a moment in silence, just looking at him. God, he was beautiful. I loved the way his hair hung to one side over his forehead, and I loved the curl of his lips when he smiled. I remembered the definition of his chest, which filled out the shirt he was wearing so well, and my imagination brought to life the rest of his body for me.

"Dave," I said, quietly, looking down at the table in front of me. "I'm sorry for what I said, and I'm sorry for not keeping in touch."

"It's okay," he answered, but I cut him off again.

"No, it's not. You deserved more than that. I was just so jealous of the other guys, the one who lived in your building and who wanted you, and the one who left the note for you that day. And I was angry too, angry with myself I guess. I wanted you, wanted to have you all to myself, but we were going to be so far apart, and I didn't have the courage to tell you how much you really meant to me, so I had no right to expect you to be faithful."

Dave sat there in silence. I looked up, and his eyes were boring into mine.

"But in spite of all of that, I just couldn't take the thought of being here while you were there, always wondering who you were with, what you were doing. I needed to try to make a clean break." I gave him an imploring look, begging him to understand.

"Mike," he began, slowly, choosing his words. "After you left, and we argued on the phone, I felt so guilty, and yet I couldn't understand why you were so upset. We hadn't promised each other anything ."

"I know," I broke in, "and that was why I was so angry with myself. I felt that we had a relationship, but I hadn't put it in words. And I just expected you to feel the same way when you obviously didn't."

"I did think we had something special," he said. "I hoped it would grow into something more, but I wasn't ready to tie myself down, at least not then."

"Are you ready now, then?" I asked, and then wished I hadn't. Before he could reply, I held up my hand. "No, don't answer that. I have no right to ask."

I held his gaze for a long moment, felt all the pent-up emotion of the last year pushing at me, confusing my thoughts. "Dave, I missed you, badly. That 'clean break' I wanted didn't work. I've thought about you every day since then. I've been miserable without you in my life, even tho