Copyright for this story belongs to and remains with the author. I don't have any major objection to my work being re-distributed, but ASK FIRST!!!

This is a gay adult story with the consequent language and images. If homosexuality and/or sexually explicit themes offend you then do not continue. If these are illegal in your area, then you have my sympathy, but you proceed at your own risk.

This is a work of fiction, and as such the characters are not bound by the usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is your obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily.

I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may inspire new work, please feel free to contact me -- all emails will be answered to the best of my ability. [email protected].

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.


"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 though it was me who caused that to happen."

"I've missed you too. You don't know how many times I went to call you, but I just kept remembering the messages I left on your machine, and the waiting for you to call back which never happened." His face showed the hurt I had caused him.

"So did you end up back with Geoff?" I asked, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer.

"No," he smiled at last. "But I did meet someone else. He was a lot like you actually."

My heart sank, I had left it too late again. Dave took my hand in his and went to speak again, but was interrupted by the waiter walking quickly up to our table and excusing himself.

"Err, Mr Mitchell?" he asked, looking from me to Dave and back again.

"Yes, that's me," said Dave, looking up at him, annoyed by the poor timing.

"There's an urgent call for you, sir. Would you like to follow me?"

Dave looked at me and shrugged his shoulders. "I won't be a second,' he said as he hurried after the waiter. I sat and watched as he spoke quickly into the phone, asking some questions, writing something on a pad. The whole time I felt a familiar sinking feeling in my stomach.

Dave raced back to me. "Mike, I'm really sorry, but I have to go ."

"What's the matter?" I asked, concerned.

"It's, uh, hard to explain right now, but I have to rush off. It's a, umm, friend, from, err, Melbourne, who's in some trouble. I'm sorry, I'll call you later, okay?" and he disappeared into the night. I sat there in shock. He had gone, and all I knew was that he was back in Sydney. I had no phone number, no address for him. The waiter came up to the table again.

"Can I get you anything, sir?' he asked.

In a breaking voice, I choked out, "No, thanks, I'll be going now, too." Trying desperately to keep my emotions under control, I dropped some money on the table for the meal we hadn't had, and almost ran to the door.

By the time I got home, I was angry. Angry with him this time. How could he do this, just show up again and then dump me in the middle of dinner with no explanation. I told myself I was better off without him, that I should have grown up and gotten over him a long time ago.


The following day, Sunday, my phone rang early. Dave's voice speared into my brain as I answered.

"Mike, I'm so sorry about last night, I ."

"Don't bother explaining!" I said icily. "There's no need. I would hate to keep you from your 'friend' from Melbourne!" I slammed down the phone again.

Almost instantly, it rang once more. I let it ring for a minute, wondering if I should turn on my machine, but I decided I wasn't going through all of that again. I grabbed the receiver from the cradle, and almost yelled into the mouthpiece.

"Listen, arsehole, I'm not interested, okay? And I'm not going to put up with the calls and messages again! So don't bother, just leave me alone!"

On the other end of the line a shocked and bemused Neil said softly, "And a good morning to you, too!"

"Oh shit, Neil, sorry," I said, grimacing.

"I take it the date didn't go as well as hoped?" Neil said quietly.

"Hardly!" I spat. "I don't know why he even bothered to show up, since he raced off to his boyfriend in the middle of a sentence."

"But he doesn't have a boyfriend!" Neil sounded surprised and concerned. "I asked him that before I arranged for you two to meet again."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. I spoke to him at length. Mike, he's been just as depressed as you, he was desperate to see you again, but he didn't think you'd meet him. That's why I told you it was me you were meeting last night!"

"Oh, shit! Well, something happened. Do you have his phone number?"

"Only a work number. I don't know where he lives," said Neil, getting upset.

"Fuck! Okay, give me his number at work, and I'll call him tomorrow. I have a feeling I might have stuffed up badly. I hope he'll let me talk, after I wouldn't let him explain," I said, feeling even worse now than I had before.

I sat and pondered on what had happened all morning. Why had he rushed off? Did he really want to see me again? Would he let me apologise tomorrow? I felt sick to my stomach with all the unanswered questions in my head, and no-one to tell me everything would be alright.

Around 2.30 that afternoon, my doorbell rang. Rang and rang and rang, like someone was leaning on it. I hit the intercom button, annoyed, and demanded to know who was there. No answer, but still the ringing went on. Really irritated now, I hurried downstairs to the front door. A piece of cardboard had been folded up and stuck into the mechanism to keep my bell ringing, and that same piece of card was attached with a string to a huge basket of red roses. In the middle of the flowers was an envelope with my name written on the outside. I looked around madly, but apart from a couple of grinning pedestrians watching my antics there was no one to be seen.

I gathered up the basket, and walked back to my flat. Inside, I quickly tore open the envelope, and removed a hand-written page. After all this time, I still recognised Dave's writing.

"My dearest Mike. I am so very sorry for leaving so suddenly last night. I can understand why you won't take my calls, but after last time, I am not going to walk away without trying to explain. The 'friend' from Melbourne was Sarah, a woman I got to know and to become friends with. She had been badly injured in a car crash. The police had found my name and number in her purse and called my home. My flatmate - and she is just that, a flatmate, told them where I was, and they called the restaurant, asking me to go to the hospital urgently. Sarah should be okay, but it was close there for most of the night.

As I was trying to tell you when we were interrupted, I did meet someone in Melbourne. His name is Greg, and he reminded me a lot of you, which is probably why I was attracted to him in the first place. We saw each other for about 2 months, but split up, at my suggestion. His problem was that he was a lot like you, but he wasn't you!

I have been utterly miserable without you in my life for the last year, and if there is any way you can forgive me, I really would like to try again. My future is in your hands now.


Under his name were written an address and a telephone number. I read and re-read the note a dozen times, tears welling up in my eyes and cascading down my cheeks. How could I have been so awful to him, the most wonderful man in the world?

Fearful, unsure of what I would say, but knowing I had to say something, I dialled the number on his letter. A female voice answered, and I stopped for a moment in surprise. But of course, his flatmate!

"Uh, hello, is Dave Mitchell there please?" I croaked into the phone.

"No, sorry but he's out at the moment," she replied.

"Oh, uh, ." I didn't know what else to say, my mind went blank.

"Is that Mike?" asked the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Dave said if you called, to ask you to call him on this number ." she rattled off the digits as I scribbled them down furiously. "It's a cafe, close to your place. And Mike?"


"He really wants to see you again!"

"Thanks, I'll call him straight away."

Feeling more emboldened, I called the restaurant, and had them page him. When he finally came on the line, my heart was racing. At the sound of his nervous voice, I jammered out in a string of words,

"Dave, it's me, I'm so sorry, I should have let you explain, I'm sorry, I really want to see you again, please forgive me, I love the flowers, you are so special ."

He cut me off, and I could hear the relief and the joy in his voice. "Mike, Mike, it's me who should be apologising. I should have taken a few minutes last night to tell you what was happening. It was just such a shock, I didn't think."

"You're close by?" I asked, although I knew the answer. "How fast can you get here?"

He laughed. "I can be there before you hang up the phone!"

"Then do it!"

I almost dropped the phone in my rush to get downstairs. As I flung open the door of my building, Dave was running along the street from the cafe. Rushing to meet him, I flung my arms around him and kissed him, long and hard. He was kissing me back and holding me so tightly I thought he would crush me. We broke apart again, crying tears of joy, and blushing at the open stares of the people on the street. Hand in hand we walked a little more slowly back up to my flat.

Without a word, he pushed the door closed behind us and grabbed me again, kissing me passionately, his arms around me and his hands travelling up and down my back. I ground my pelvis against his and our bulging, thickening cocks pushed at each other through the clothes we wore.

I tingled with his every touch, and his hold awakened desires that had been dormant for a long time, too long. Still locked to his lips, tasting his manly flavour, I struggled with the buttons of his jeans, finally getting them open and pushing his pants and jocks down so they fell to his knees as my hand gripped at his rampant swollen cock and cupped his large rolling balls. His hands were on my skin, holding my waist, and he lifted his arms up, removing my T-shirt as he did, then dropped them again pushing my shorts and underpants from me in a single fluid movement so that my swollen rod slapped upwards as it was released, spraying droplets of pre-cum over his groin and the front of his shirt. I stepped from the bundle of clothes at my feet and my fingers began to fight with his shirt, trying in vain to unbutton it. Without letting his lips leave mine, he grabbed either side of the garment and ripped it open, sending buttons flying in all directions and exposing his magnificent torso as he dropped the flimsy cotton to the floor.

We stood there, naked and excited, rubbing hard against each other, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, cock to cock as our tongues wrestled for space in both mouths. Eventually our kiss was broken, but only so that Dave's mouth could travel across my neck and slowly down my chest. I flung my head back and moaned as I dug my fingers into the firm flesh of his butt cheeks and pressed my dick harder against the swollen turgid flesh of his rod. Both of us were leaking copious amounts of pre-cum which was mashed and slavered all over our prongs as we fought with each other, each trying to devour the other. He pushed me back slowly until I came up against the solidity of the sofa backrest, immovable against my arse cheeks.

We stopped for a moment then, halted by the reality of the furniture in our way. I opened my eyes to find Dave staring hard at me, a burning need of passionate lust on his face. That need was matched by my own. Lifting on my toes, I allowed my weight to settle on the upright backing of the lounge, and lifted my legs around him gripping his waist with my knees as his hands held me steady and pulled me harder against him. Once more, his mouth returned to my body, biting and licking at my nipples, kissing and pulling the hard brown nubs of skin as he attacked me and elicited groans of intense pleasure from my throat.

I reached down to him and felt the slickness of his cock already moist from our outpourings. I ran my finger along the underside of his shaft, milking more of his pre-cum from him and scooping it from his slit, up and over the head of his cock. Repeating the procedure with my own prick, I soon managed to coat his throbbing pole with a combination of our seminal juice, leaving it slippery and oozing. Sensing my need was as great as his, Dave hawked a mouthful of saliva onto his hand and brought it down to his cock, mixing it with the existing slime and creating a natural lubricant from our body fluids.

Backing his hips away for a second, he manoeuvered himself around until, with a little help from me, the flared head of his cock was pressing against the puckering muscle of my ring. He looked again into my eyes, seeking confirmation that I was okay with this, and I smiled a grin full of lusty need and nodded. As he pushed forward I relaxed myself and pushed back at him, feeling the knob of his prick open me. The lubrication we had made was thin, but it was enough. I grunted slightly at the initial pain of his penetration, but it was soon replaced by the delight of having him inside me as my sphincter gripped tightly at the rounded cockhead piercing my entrance.

Dave entered me then, not in a single long stroke, but by pulling back and pushing in again, so that his cock slid a little deeper into me with each thrust forward. Quickly, his pelvis was hard against my cheeks, the full length of his glorious prod sunk deep inside my bowel. With my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist, I didn't let him rest. I needed him so much, and I held him tightly, drawing him into me, urging him to fuck me hard and fast.

He needed no encouragement, driving himself into me as his mouth returned to my chest. His hips thrust forward and his long fleshy sword stabbed into my gut, filling me and probing me, sending shivers of delight through my frame. I gripped at his shaft with my anus, and kicked my heels into his butt, driving him further and further into me as I groaned with pleasure from the attention lavished on my tits. My cock was massaged between our bodies, my balls crushed in the confined space hard against his abdomen, but I ached with joy at the thumping, pounding insertion of his steel hard pole through my accommodating arse. We fucked. Hard and fast and urgently. His cock fucked into my body, thumping up through my gut. My arsehole fucked his rod, clenching and milking it, taking possession of his masculinity and unwilling to let it go. We heaved and humped at each other, rutting like there was no tomorrow, gasping and moaning as we joined in a fierce, intense union of two bodies fusing into one being. And we drove each other onwards and upwards as he stabbed himself into me and I impaled myself onto his fleshy spike.

I lost all track of time, and had no idea whether we rocked and clenched at each other for a minute or an hour, but however long it was, it came to an end all too soon. The incredible sensations of physical joining, combined with the emotional damburst of being re-united, lifted each of us to the peak of passionate arousal, and pushed us over the abyss. Almost as one, Dave and I began to gasp and cry out. Simultaneously, his cock swelled and thudded deep into me as my hole tightened around him and my body twitched with the spasms of climax. I felt the sudden and irresistible explosion within my groin as my balls emptied their load through my shaft and a geyser of hot creamy cum erupted over our bodies, and at the same moment I felt him shuddering against me, within me, as he emptied his manseed far inside my body, filling me with his essence as he rocked with the force of orgasm.

As the intensity of our peak slowly died away, we both let out a long sigh of sated release in unison. Still perched on the back of the sofa, I rolled back and fell onto the lounge and Dave quickly joined me, lying on top of me as we kissed again in that hazy afterglow which always follows truly enjoyable sex.

"I missed you so much," I whispered to him when we broke our kiss, lying there pressed together, the slimy residue of my ejaculation squelching between us.

"You mean so much to me Mike," he said softly. "Do you think we can make things work this time?"

"I hope so! I'm damn sure I'm going to try hard," I said sincerely.

"Me too."

"Dave, . " my words were quiet but firm. "I need you to understand. I'm the jealous, possessive type. I can't help it, it's just the way I am. If we are going to build a relationship, ."

"And we are!" he enthused. I ignored him and carried on.

"If we are going to build a relationship, then you have to understand and accept that it's just us. No flings, no one-night stands, no quick sex on the side. I won't see anyone else, and I won't let you see anyone else either. Are you okay with that?"

He grinned, but his reply was honest and serious. "I can't tell you I won't notice good looking men," he said, "but I promise you that you are the one and only man I want. No one else could possibly come close to making me feel the way you do, and I ain't gonna do anything to risk losing you again!"

We spent the rest of the day just lying in each other's arms. It felt so good to have him back, to be able to just touch him, to run my finger along his jaw or around his cock any time I wanted. I knew we had a long way to go, a lot to sort out yet, and that we couldn't dare just going on as though the last year hadn't happened, but I was determined to make it work, and we were making a good start.

Later that night we made love again, but after the urgent explosion of the afternoon, this was a slow, tender union. Dave lay me back gently on the bed, kissing me all over my body and paying special attention to my sensitive nipples which he knew drove me wild. He entered me slowly, so that his cock was almost caressing my arse as it slid inside me, and he rocked back and forth with me in a slow rhythm of delightful fucking that lasted for hours. Each of us warned the other when we grew close to the point of explosion so we could slow down and let the passion subside in order to prolong our coupling. When we finally did reach orgasm, we did it together. Holding each other tightly and twitching and shaking as one through the bliss of climax, and drifting back to earth in each other's arms, his cock still within me as we remained a single, joined being.

The next morning, we woke again in each other's arms. I smiled at the delight of being there with him, and couldn't stand the thought of dragging myself into work and leaving his arms.

"I think I might have a day off," I mused quietly, almost to myself.

Only just awake, Dave responded sleepily, "Sounds perfect to me. I might have a 'sickie' as well. And we can stay here and nurse each other back to health!"

I grinned, and we made the necessary calls from bed, before rolling back into each other's arms for more kissing, fondling and hugging.

Around 1.30 that afternoon we were interrupted in yet another embrace by the ringing of the telephone. I answered it to hear Neil's concerned voice on the other end.

"Mike, are you alright? I rang you at work to find out if you'd tried to get onto Dave, but they said you were sick. And then I thought I'd butt in and call him, but he's away too!"

I smiled at Dave who was listening in. "I'm fine," I said to Neil. "Just perfect! And I can assure you Dave is feeling pretty good right now, and he's not that far away."

Neil laughed down the line. "You sly dog! So you managed to sort out the problem?"

"Uh huh!"

"Then, when you two manage to find your way out into the light of day again, I think it's about time we actually met this guy! Until then, have fun, and don't do anything I can't imagine."

"That leaves me pretty safe," I chuckled, and hung up as Dave's fingers found my nipple and started pinching it, making me shiver and causing my cock to swell again.


Chapter Seven - Don't Let Go

Dave and I spent the following weekend making up for our 'annus horribillis', exploring each other's mind and body, and generally fucking ourselves into exhaustion. Being with him was just so wonderful that I didn't want to share him with anyone, but Neil's comment kept sticking in my mind. If we were going to build a real relationship, we had to interact with other people, get to know each other's friends and be part of the real world outside my bedroom.

Two weeks later came our chance. Neil was hosting a barbecue at his home, and his invitation arrived, pointedly addressed to 'Mike and Dave'. I showed it to Dave, who grinned, and said "yes" straight away.

I don't know who was more nervous as the day approached, myself or Dave. My friends can sometimes be a bit overbearing, especially in a group, and I was concerned they might 'gang up' on him. For his part, Dave was determined to make a good impression.

"Just be yourself," I kept assuring him. "If they don't like you the way you really are, then fuck 'em. I happen to think you're the best there is."

The afternoon was actually a raging success from our point of view. Apart from a few comments which got us both blushing when we arrived - "so you really do exist", "no wonder Mike's been hiding you away", "what are you doing later, handsome?" - Dave fell right into place with my friends. He overcame his nervousness, and just let his naturally great personality do all the work. Not only was I delighted to see how well he got along with my mates, I started to feel a real pride, a glow inside. He was an instant hit, very popular and I basked in the reflected glory of being his partner.

Several of my friends managed to draw me aside at different times during the afternoon to tell me how much they liked him, and to congratulate me on having finally found someone so nice. It seemed as though for much of the day we were kept away from each other, people often drawing one or other of us aside for whispered remarks which kept us both amused if somewhat exasperated by our enforced separation.

At one stage, Rob, one of my closer friends, spied me alone as I fetched drinks for myself and Dave, and made a bee-line for me. he was a huge fan of old musicals, and I sensed a line even before he reached me.

"Marry him the moment he asks you!" he declared as he grabbed my elbow.

I laughed out loud. "I'm no Mame!" I said.

"Maybe not, but he sure is a Beauregard Burnside. For gawd's sake, don't let him get away!"

I chuckled as I escaped from Rob's clutches and made my way back to Dave's side. As I approached him, I took the time to drink in the view of his body, as he dominated the conversation around him. I wasn't quite ready to marry him just yet, but the thought wasn't entirely unpleasant either, I mused.


On the trip home after the barbecue, Dave held my hand in his, smiling broadly. "Thank you," he whispered.

I looked at him in surprise. "No need to thank me - it was you who made the huge impression!"

"Maybe, but they're your friends, and I'm so happy that you let me meet them."

"It's me who should be thanking you," I replied. "For still wanting to be around after you've met the crowd I hang out with!"

He laughed. "They're not that bad. In fact, I like a lot of them very much, especially the ones you are obviously closer to."

There was something in his tone which rang alarm bells. "Did someone say something to upset you?"

"Not really," he said slowly. "But one of the guys there did try to pick me up, asked me to meet him tomorrow."

"What!?" I blurted out, my old insecurity coming to the surface. "Who?"

"Don't be upset," Dave reassured me. "I won't say who, but I know he was the date of someone else at the party, and that guy wasn't one of your close friends. I told him that the only way I would be interested in him was if he were to have a total makeover of his face, body and manners, so that he was exactly like you, except that if he did he wouldn't have asked what he did. And then I told him that until then, he could just go away and fall off the planet, and that if he didn't fall soon, I'd push him!"

I sat for a moment, mouth agape, and then started to laugh. When I quieted down, I rested my head against his shoulder, snuggling into him and feeling the warmth of his body against mine. "That's my man!" I whispered.

"Hmm, I like the sound of that ..." he mused. I thought again of Rob's words. Would Dave ever ask me to marry him? Would I have the courage to accept?


Dave and I soon became acknowledged and accepted as a couple amongst my circle of friends. We often found ourselves invited along to dinner parties, barbecues, theatre evenings, and he fell into place as though he had always been part of the group. I always felt so happy and so proud when we were out together, and he was always so comfortable, enjoying the things that I liked.

I also got to meet his friends - a much smaller, tighter group than mine. There were only really about six people who Dave called his friends, but they were such bright, warm people that I took to them instantly, enjoying the contact we had and the long deep discussions on just about any topic you could pick. They challenged my ideas without mocking me, and I looked forward to our meetings. One night Dave commented as we lay in bed, recovering from a long and sensual coupling, that he was beginning to think his friends liked me better than they liked him.

I looked up at him, both worried and surprised, to find that he was grinning, and not at all upset. I dropped back into his arms again, feeling so comfortable and happy I couldn't imagine being without him.


We spent every weekend together, sometimes at his home, sometimes at mine. During the week, we often met for dinner or a drink after work, and although we usually ended up going our separate ways so as to be bright for work the following day, it wasn't unusual for us to stay over either. More than once I wondered what it would be like if we were together permanently, but there was still the nagging doubt, the inability to take that step, deep down inside. I never raised the subject, and neither did he.


It was almost five months since Dave and I had gotten back together, and we were spending almost all our free time together. It wasn't something we'd planned, but somehow we'd gotten to the point where 5 or 6 nights out of 7 we were either at my place or his, and no longer did either of us get out of bed to trek home after an evening of sexual bliss. More from convenience than planning, we had ended up with a store of clothes at each other's homes, to the point where we each had a double set of razors and toothbrushes, one at my flat and one at his. Of course, the down side to our arrangement was that you could almost guarantee that the one shirt you wanted was certain to be wherever you were not, exactly at the time you wanted it!

I started to wonder why we bothered. Life would be so much easier if we simply lived together, in one place, all the time. No more deciding whose flat we were going to tonight, no more agonising over missing clothes, no need to manage double lots of laundry each week. Yet despite the inconvenience, Dave had never mentioned our moving in together. Both of us whined about the annoyance when something wasn't where it was needed, but the topic of a shared home wasn't raised. Tiny questions began to insinuate themselves into my mind. Did he want to share his life with me completely? Why didn't he discuss the possibility of living together permanently? I had no reason to think there was anyone but me in his life, and I trusted him completely on the occasional nights we weren't together.

It occurred to me that although Dave hadn't mentioned us living together, neither had I. I could hardly criticize him for his silence on the issue then, could I? Why not just ask him? I agonised over my own feelings. Somewhere deep within me was a tiny voice which told me to leave well enough alone, there was no need to take that next step towards commitment on such a scale when everything was going just fine.

And then my tiny doubts roared to the surface and tore me apart. It was a Tuesday night, and I had been asked to work back late. I rang Dave and explained, telling him I'd miss him tonight, and arranging to meet up with him the following evening at his place.

"Okay, handsome," he said easily, but with a tinge of disappointment in his voice. "But ring me when you get home, okay? I won't be able to sleep until I hear your voice!"

"I promise, but it won't be until late, probably about 11.00!" I smiled into the phone as I hung up.

I put my head down that afternoon and immersed myself in the task I'd been set, working on into the evening without a break, determined to finish it off as soon as I could. Around 9.30 I smiled triumphantly as I completed the final report and emailed it to my boss for her attention first thing in the morning. A job well done! I told myself. And I'd finished a good hour earlier than anticipated.

I wondered fleetingly if I might yet go over to Dave's place, but as soon as I did I knew I was too exhausted to spend any quality time with him. Better to just go home and collapse. I'd see him tomorrow anyway, so there was no rush. I wandered out of the building, and got on a bus which took me up to Taylor Square, from where it was only a few minutes walk home. As I trudged wearily past the myriad restaurants on Oxford Street, I happened to glance into one of the windows only to see Dave at a table with an attractive dark haired man.

I stopped dead in my tracks, my mouth open and my heart racing. It couldn't be! But it was. He and his companion were just finishing up and getting to their feet. Dave smiled at the other guy, patted him on the back and turned toward the door. I panicked, had to get away. I couldn't bear meeting them here on the street. I felt faint, dizzy, my mind whirling as I stumbled away quickly. In a fog of blurred vision and emotional storms I managed to make my way to my flat and get inside where I collapsed on the sofa.

Dave couldn't be seeing someone else, could he? But I'd seen him with my own eyes! Yet I'd seen him having dinner with someone, that's all. But why hadn't he told me? I'd only spoken to him this morning about working late. Who was this guy he was eating with? I'd met Dave's friends and he wasn't one of them. Surely there was a logical explanation. But I couldn't stop my doubts and my insecurities from painting a picture I didn't want to see.

Finally, I calmed down. There was no point sitting here worrying and fretting when I didn't have all the information. I had told Dave I would ring him late, and he was expecting my call, so I steeled myself and dialled his number.

"Hi there handsome," came Dave's voice as soon as the phone was answered. He sounded surprisingly up and cheerful.

"Uh, hi," I replied quietly.

"Hey, you sound beat."

"Yeah," I agreed non-committaly. "I feel like I've been through the ringer!"

"Pity, my man," he said brightly. "I would have loved to have had you with me tonight, if you didn't have to work."

I tried to think of something to say to that as my heart sank, but he didn't give me a chance, going on immediately.

"I've been up near your place for dinner tonight!" he declared. That really threw me. He was openly admitting it?

"Oh?" I said in a trembling voice.

"Yep. Had a call late this afternoon from my cousin. He's in town from Perth for a conference, and wanted to catch up. I almost rang you, but remembered you were working overtime, so he had to be content with me telling him all about you instead of actually meeting you. We had dinner at a restaurant just around the corner from your flat. Now he says we have to try to get over there so he can meet you in person, see if you're really as terrific as I claim!"

Relief flooded over me, bringing a wave of guilt with it. I was so happy I almost cried. How could I have doubted him? I began to laugh with the sudden disappearance of the tension that had built up in me over the last hour.

"Hey," Dave asked, concern in his voice. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," I said between gasps for breath. "I'll explain later."

"Okay, ..." he sounded unsure. "You must be more exhausted than I thought. Get some sleep, handsome, and I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

"Yep," I declared. "Tomorrow, at your place, right?"

"Right. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, stud," I said happily as I replaced the receiver on its cradle.

Tired as I was, I didn't get much sleep that night. I lay awake thinking about what had happened, analyzing my feelings, my irrational assumption that Dave was seeing someone else, my over-reaction to his having dinner with another man, my relief at the truth. I thought long about how I had been feeling lately, asked myself some serious questions about my own thoughts and needs. Sometime in the early hours of the morning, as I tossed and turned in bed alone, I was hit with a sudden flash of inspiration. Like a revelation, I suddenly saw very clearly what I wanted, what I needed. How could I have been so stupid or so blind? It was time to make things right!


The next day, I took off from work early and made a few purchases at one of the convenience stores near my flat, then grabbed some clothes and headed for Dave's place, getting there a good half hour before he was due home. I let myself in with my key, set myself up the way I wanted, and waited for him to arrive.

A key in the lock alerted me that my man was home, and I sat up, looking at the door with a grin on my face as I waited for his reaction. Dave walked into the living room, and stopped as soon as he saw me, his jaw falling open. I sat as seductively as I could, sprawled out across his sofa, stark naked except for a large red bow tied around my neck. In my hand, which I held out toward him, was a single, long-stemmed red rose, and on the table beside me were two glasses of champagne, strawberries floating in the bubbling drinks. "Welcome home," I said quietly, licking my lips as I did.

His mouth closed slowly and a grin spread across his face, as I noticed his pants begin to tent outward at the front.

"What did I do to deserve this?" he asked, still uncertain.

"Nothing and everything," I said. "You deserve it because you're you. And I should have given you what I'm offering now a long while ago."

"And what exactly are you offering, as if I couldn't guess?" he asked.

"Myself! All of me. I realised yesterday that the only way I can be truly happy is to give myself to you completely, so here I am!"

His smile turned from one of lust to one of pure joy. He leaned forward and accepted the rose I was still holding out to him, and then leaned forward to kiss me gently. As he pulled back again, I saw tears in his eyes, tears of joy. I stood up, moving to him and together we held our glasses, softly tapping them together and draining the delicious contents.

"Why don't you get more comfortable?" I asked softly, looking at his clothes.

"Why don't you come and help me?" he said, his eyes sparkling as he led me to the bedroom.

I lay on the bed and watched as he stripped his clothing away, enjoyed the view as his magnificent body was revealed to me once again. His proud cock stood out and up from his pelvis, throbbing and rigid, a drop of pre-cum already forming at his slit. He sat beside my prone form, running his fingers sensuously all over my body, plucking at my nipples and scraping softly along the aching shaft of my dick.

"I think it's about time I opened my present," he whispered. I grinned at the double meaning of his words as he settled himself between my legs and gently tugged at the bow around my neck until the flimsy material fell away.

And then he was upon me, devouring me with his eyes and his lips, kissing me all over and covering my body with his own. Thrills of delight rocketed through me at his every touch, and I whimpered quietly with the joy of him against me. With a sense of controlled urgency Dave nudged my legs apart with his knees, and I willingly opened myself to him as he leaned forward and into me. His rampant weapon throbbed and leaked as he did, and our cocks jousted for a moment as he covered me with his body before lifting again to apply some lubricant quickly, his eyes never leaving mine.

As he edged forward once again, I lifted my knees and wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him into me and offering up my puckering hole to his powerful prong. His face remained locked on mine, his hands continued exploring my chest and abdomen as I felt the solidity of his cockhead make contact with the soft muscle of my arse. He slid into me slowly but easily. To say I didn't feel him enter would be a lie, but there was no pain, no discomfort even. It was if my body was empty, hollow, and his thick cock made it complete. I gasped as he sank into me, coming to rest against my butt as he buried himself fully, but the gasp was one of amazed fulfillment, of total completeness, rather than of surprise or pain. It felt so right, he felt so right, piercing my sphincter with his dagger of masculinity.

Almost at once, Dave began to pull back, steady himself, and drive into me again. His eyes were wide with delight as his cock probed into my hot wet cavern, plumbing my depths and filling my gut with its fiery steel. He quickly fell into a rhythm, leaning over and against me, thrusting in and retreating as my ring of muscle gripped at him, milking his tube with each motion. A sensual cadence of jabbing and withdrawal enveloped us as we fucked in an easy flowing union of our bodies.

For more than an hour we remained locked together, fucking each other. My senses went into absolute ecstasy at the prolonged massaging of my prostate and the powerful driving of his very masculinity into my gut. Several times I felt myself approaching the point of no return, but a warning whimper from me saw Dave slow down and rest while my ardour subsided. He too, built up to the edge, his pounding into me increasing in speed and intensity before he would suddenly stop, and hold himself completely still, his throbbing sword resting in the warm moist envelope of my rectum. At those times I was in paradise, just lying there open to him and filled with him, our eyes locked together and our bodies totally motionless as the urges receded temporarily.

At one point my mind began to drift. Physically, I was wrapped around Dave's glorious body, my arms around his torso, my legs around his waist and my arse around his pistoning rod. Yet my mind seemed detached, almost as if it were floating free of my body. I imagined I was above us, floating, looking down at the two writhing bodies locked in the most intimate embrace. And to my mind's eye we were perfection, the ultimate coupling of two beings, forming a single entity of blissful, passionate union. Emotionally, I felt like weeping with joy, while physically, I was so excited and aroused my body ached with sensual delight.

Suddenly a sense of comprehension filled me, and as my mind returned to the trembling writhing power of our fuck, I became one again, and knew I would become one with Dave. I held him even tighter, bucking and humping at him as he rammed himself into me, revelled in the force of his thrusting weapon into my hole. I surrendered, to the joy of our sex, and to him. My body surrendered completely to the indescribable pleasure of his penetration, and my mind surrendered all doubts and uncertainties to the knowledge that I wanted him totally. And as I did, I claimed him for my own.

With that knowledge, I shuddered again, and drew him harder to me, hissing encouragements to Dave, to my lover. I gripped at him with my arse and pulled him into me with my legs. His fucking increased in power as he drove himself deeper and deeper into me, harder and faster at my urging as he gave himself over to the natural instincts of a virile rutting male. I felt the tide of passion rise up within me, the waves of excitement starting at my arse and rolling through the rest of my body. I held back as long as I could while I held tightly to my man, and then I was there. Unable to control or prevent it, even if I had wanted to, my nuts boiled and my cock swelled as orgasm hit me. Load upon load of my juice pumped from my twitching prick, filling the narrow space between our bodies as I gasped and shuddered into my peak of abandonment. And in the midst of my climax my eyes flew open to find Dave leaning into me, his own eyes locked on mine, his body shaken with trembling release.

As he rocked with explosion, he kept holding me, his hands on my chest and his eyes on my face. He continued to pump his beautiful cock into my body as he came, but the long steady strokes of his fucking were now replaced by tremulous jabs and with each inward hammer a spasm ran through him and into me. I swore I could feel the heat of his seed as he pumped his very essence into me. Even through the writhing ecstasy of my own fulfillment, I accepted his gift and possessed him, body and soul.

We lay there, his weight on me but not a burden, a delight. I flexed the muscles of my sphincter, and felt his thick solidity still wedged within me, and smiled. The remnants of my ejaculation provided a gooey slime which joined us and our eyes were only centimetres apart as I stared at him, feeling myself lost in absolute contentment with him there, on top of me and inside me.

"Dave," I murmured, a whispering softness that only he could have heard. "I, ..."

His eyes opened wide, and pierced my soul, a question and a hope written on his face.

"I love you."

My heart didn't race, my voice didn't quaver. I knew what I was saying and I meant it, more certain of this than of anything before in my life. He looked at me, and instead of surprise, or revelation, I saw satisfaction.

"I know," he said. "I've just been waiting for you to know it too. And I love you."

I searched my thoughts, searched my heart, and I realised that he was right. With a happy smile of recognition, I whispered back, "I know!"


Chapter Eight -- Home

"Dave," I murmured, a whispering softness that only he could have heard. "I, ..."

His eyes opened wide, and pierced my soul, a question and a hope written on his face.

"I love you."

My heart didn't race, my voice didn't quaver. I knew what I was saying and I meant it, more certain of this than of anything before in my life. He looked at me, and instead of surprise, or revelation, I saw satisfaction.

"I know," he said. "I've just been waiting for you to know it too. And I love you."

I searched my thoughts, searched my heart, and I realised that he was right. With a happy smile of recognition, I whispered back, "I know!"

He smiled at me then, the kind of smile that says everything is perfect, that nothing could ever go wrong in our lives.

"Mike, now that we've reached the point where we both realise we love each other, how would you feel about moving in together?"

I laughed. "I've been thinking about that myself. Sounds great to me. Your place or mine?"

"We-e-ell ..." he hesitated. "I don't know that either of our places are big enough for everything we have. And I kinda feel we need to make a whole fresh start in our life together anyway."

I smiled and melted against him at his words -- 'our life together'; - that sounded so right.

Dave went on. "What if we start looking around for a new place, for us, together?"

"Mmmm," I mumbled. "Sounds good to me stud!"


Almost immediately, Dave started looking around for somewhere for us to live. He took on the job of finding us a home with a passion, dragging me around to look at places, circling possibilities in the newspapers, checking with real estate agents constantly. I was happy to sit back and let him do the leg work, which he insisted on, and it made me feel good, made me feel that I was placing my future in his hands, an idea I liked very much.

For weeks he had me out and about every Saturday, looking at possible places to rent, discussing the pros and cons of each. There were some nice places, but nothing that really excited us both, and we so much wanted 'our' place to be just right.

And then things quietened a little. For two weeks we didn't go looking at a single place. I began to wonder if he had given up on ever finding a place for us to share, but waited patiently for my man to let me know how he felt about his search. It had become his project and I wanted to let him keep control of the whole process. Somehow it was important to both of us for him to be able to do this for us.


Dave was looking glum that evening when I got home from work to find him sitting stretched out on my sofa. I sensed his dejection, and without saying a word, I leaned over him, wrapping my arms around his chest and planting a big kiss on the back of his neck. I felt him relax beneath me, his hands covering mine and pulling me down harder against him.

"Mmmm," he whispered into the air. "That feels good."

"Tired?" I asked, and he nodded his agreement.

"Mike, I feel like I'm getting nowhere with finding us a home. There's just nothing that we like, that seems to be in any reasonable condition."

"Don't worry, my love," I cooed in his ear. "I'm sure something will turn up. We have all the time in the world to find it. I'm not going anywhere, believe me. Pity we can't just make something that we want, instead of having to go out and find it," I said off-handedly.

Dave twisted around and stared at me as I said that, looking at me hard, an idea forming in his mind.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Maybe, I've been looking at the wrong things," he said enigmatically, his eyes lighting up and his face taking on a smile. I pressed him after that, but he refused to say anymore, except to begin making notes of how much each of us earned, how much rent we paid between us, and lists of other expenses.

"But you already have all those details," I said, still curious. "We agreed at the price range we would look for."

"I know, I know, just let me think on this a while, okay?"

I smiled at him, hugging him again. "Okay, stud, you're the boss," I grinned.

A week went by, and still no indication from Dave about what he was thinking or planning. And then on Saturday morning, he announced he had a place for us to look at. His eyes lit up with hidden mirth and something else I couldn't place as he said it, so I just accepted his excitement and off we went.

He took me to a quiet, narrow street in Erskineville, some way from where we had been looking until now. I raised my eyes skeptically at him, but he held his finger to my lips and led me inside with the borrowed key he had. The house was a narrow terrace with two reasonably sized bedrooms, a galley kitchen and a large open living space at the rear which opened to a pleasant yard. It was a nice enough place, although really it needed a bit of work doing to it. Finally, I could hold my tongue no longer.

"Dave, first, I thought we were looking at flats, rather than houses, and secondly, this place isn't really up to scratch. Look at the carpets and the paintwork. I'd want the owners to replace or repair both before I agreed to any substantial lease."

"Agreed," he said, a strange smile on his face. "But can you see that it has possibilities?"

"Yeah," I accepted. "It does have a welcoming feel about it."


"Yes, that's the word, 'homey'." I nodded, and went on. "So how much are they asking for it?"


"$560 a week for this? You have to be joking!" I looked around again. He had gone mad if he thought I would pay that kind of money for this place.

"Mike, hold on a moment." He fixed me with a long hard look, a look which penetrated into my very soul. "I love you," he whispered.

Confused now, I answered, "I love you too, but what does that have to do with it?"

"Mike, I really mean it, I love you, and I am ready to make a major commitment to you."

The hairs on my neck stood up. I felt goosebumps all over me. There was something in his tone which made me feel incredibly wonderful and special, but there was more, and I couldn't place it. As he took my hands in his, I looked to him and said quietly, "I thought we already had. I love you Dave, and I am committed to staying with you forever."

"Are you sure?"

"More than anything!" I wanted to make a joke, but somehow I knew this wasn't the time for it. He was completely serious. He looked around at the house again, then back to me.

"They don't want $560 a week for it ..." another deep breath. "They want $560,000.00."

My face must have gone blank as the implications of what he said started to sink in. As though he thought I was going to argue, he added quickly, "Mike, I've done the sums. We can afford it easily. In fact the repayments would be less than we pay now between us in rent. And we could take this place, which is 'homey', and make it ours. Just the way we want it. Mike?"

All the puff and excitement had drained from him as he looked to me, waiting for a comment, a word, anything.

I looked around again, seeing the house with new eyes and a different perspective. Slowly I rotated on the spot, taking it all in, my face coming back to Dave again.

A smile broke out on me and his face lit up. "I love it. And I love you. Let's do it!" I said, suddenly.

He grinned, a grin that reached from ear to ear. "I knew you would. They accepted my offer yesterday, and the contracts are just waiting for us to sign at the agent's!" he said, breathless in his confession. I laughed, and punched him playfully in the arm. Just then I realised how complete my love for this man truly was.

He stepped up behind me, his strong arms wrapping around me and holding me tight as together we took another longer look at our new home. I melted into him, feeling like I truly belonged here with him. He let go of me and I swung around to face him.

"You know, I don't have to have the keys back for another hour ..." Dave smiled evilly at me. A chill ran down my spine, and my dick rocketed to full hardness at his tone.

"Oh, you're bad," I chuckled.

"And you're too good to let get away!" he answered.

Alone, in the empty house, we attacked each other with hands and mouths, kissing and groping, licking and squeezing at each other in rising arousal. With an urgency I hadn't felt for some time, I slid my hands up and unbuttoned his shirt as I felt him do the same to me. My fingers fumbled at his belt as he quickly unzipped the fly of my jeans and released my throbbing erection from the confines of my underwear. I all but ripped his pants from him, leaving us both standing naked, our clothes a messy pile at our feet.

We stood together for a long moment, kissing passionately, until Dave broke away from me and dropped to his knees in front of me. My cock ached with the pounding rush of blood as he lowered his mouth to me, slowly wrapping my tool in the warm moistness of his throat, his tongue massaging my shaft as he sank his face over my manhood. I groaned with ecstatic joy as his teeth scraped across the sensitive skin and his gullet contracted around me, coating my member with his saliva. I began to hunch forward into him, slowly fucking his face as he slurped and suckled at me, sending shivers through my body.

My hands fell to his head and my fingers pulled at his hair as he ministered to my raging hardon, licking and biting at me, laving me with his hot wetness and bringing me close to the edge. My breath grew short and my body began to tremble as Dave continued his wonderful assault on my cock. With a sudden and unexpected slurp, he lifted himself away from me. I looked down to him, disappointment on my face as he looked up into my eyes.

"Mike," he hissed, "Fuck me, now!?!"

I grinned, and nodded, as he lay back on the floor in what would become our bedroom. With my prick still slippery from his attentions, I ran my finger along his rampant erection and milked his slit for the natural lubricant of his pre-cum, scooping it up and smearing it around the puckering pink ring of muscle he presented to me as he lifted his legs and wrapped them around my waist. I leaned over him, my weight distributed on my knees and my elbows, my arms at his chest. I felt the indentation of his hole as the head of my cock made contact with his skin, and I kissed him tenderly.

Pressing forward and down, I felt him resist for a second, and then relax. As the muscle of his sphincter surrendered, my throbbing pole penetrated him, the heat of his body enveloping my aching knob. Slowly, purposefully, I began to enter him, sliding into him in a long slow motion as he puffed and grimaced, accepting the intrusion and willing himself to take me. The slight lubrication allowed him to grant me entry with a little pain, but he looked into my eyes and smiled, willing me to continue.

The intensity of feeling as I lowered my body onto him and sank my cock into him was indescribable. I winced as the muscles of his anus clamped and relaxed around my shaft, I ached with joy as the heated wetness of his body engulfed my prong and I felt the moist softness of his innards squelching against my hardness. My cock plunged deep inside him and I probed his gut with my flesh, pressing in and in until my body rested against his, my cock completely lost within him. Together we gasped and grunted as I sank myself to the hilt and then began to pull back, only to plough into him again.

Instinctively, I began to pull and push, to thrust at him and retrieve myself before jabbing forward yet again. My breathing grew short as I humped at my lover, thumping hard into his body and claiming him for my own. Dave hissed and groaned, taking all I could give and demanding more as we fucked wildly at each other, his body wrapped around me, his rectum speared by my sword again and again. We thundered against each other, writhing and gasping on the floor of the empty room, joining completely and rutting like wild animals at each other, locked in the most intimate embrace, forming a single, humping, fucking being of complete pleasure. My cock dragged from him and then jabbed forward again, impaling him as he flinched and trembled, begging for me to take him totally. The friction of his anus sliding up and down my cock as I pounded in and out of him was intense, erotic, and I rammed myself at his body, driving my meat deep into his accepting chute and filling his gorgeous, athletic body with my masculinity.

As our fucking rocketed us upwards, joined in the most intense coupling, my nerves relayed the ultimate pleasure of aroused excitement like electricity through my body. I felt myself propelled toward the abyss of ecstasy, and Dave shuddered beneath me, indicating that he too was close to the edge. Without warning, his body spasmed, and his arse clenched tightly around my pistoning cock. His prick twitched and shuddered, as a stream of creamy white jism was expelled from its tip, drenching both our bodies with his seed. I lost control of my own groin, and with a whirl of stars and flashing lights in my head I felt my rod expand to impossible proportions, and explode within him, shooting a river of my very essence into his gut, filling his body with my juice as he milked me with his arse.

Finally, we collapsed together, sated and spent. Still sunk within him, I leaned forward again and kissed him fully on those wonderful lips. He smiled at me, flexing the muscles of his arse and clamping at my still hard cock as we recovered together. Carefully I lifted myself away, withdrawing from him as we both gasped with the effort and exhaustion of our joining. Still naked, we lay there, side by side on the floor of the empty house.

Dave rolled himself onto his side, and propped himself up on one arm, laying the other across my still slimy chest. I looked into his face and grinned.

"Can we buy a house every weekend?" I asked. He smiled and I could feel the immense love I had for him welling up inside. "I love you," I whispered.

"I love you too," he mouthed back at me without a sound. He looked around, locating the pile that was our clothing, and sat up, rummaging through his pockets, before he came back to kneel beside me in all his glorious nakedness, something hidden in one hand.

I looked at him with a question on my face, and saw in his eyes a flicker of excitement and anticipation, mixed with nervousness. Wondering what else he could possibly have in store for this wonderful day, I sat up cross-legged and faced him directly.

"Mike," he began slowly, uncertainly. "You have already made me so happy ..."

"The feeling is mutual," I interrupted, but he silenced me with a pleading look as I let him continue.

"Would you do me the ultimate honour of ..." his eyes bored into mine as his hand brought out a small felt-covered box and held it between us, " ... of marrying me?"

As he spoke, he flipped open the box to reveal two matching gold rings, set with tiny diamonds around a dark sapphire. I tried to speak, but my voice refused to work. I started to choke as I looked from his face to the rings and back to his face. The room seemed to go hazy, until I realized it was my eyes, filled with tears of joy. Blinking away the mist, droplets running down both cheeks, I finally found my throat again, sufficient to croak out, "Yes, Yes, YES!"

We both were crying like babies as we fell into each other's arms again. I had never known such happiness.


Chapter Nine - I Do!

Dave and I moved into our new home about six weeks later. It sounds like a while, but in reality the time flew as we made arrangements as necessary, notified friends and relatives, and generally got used to the idea. To me, it felt like a passing dream, the thought of being in my own home with the man I loved, and somehow the weeks both dragged and raced at the same time.

Almost as though it crept up on us, it had happened and we were together at last, in our special place. I looked around, scarcely able to believe that it was real. Oh sure, I could see the things which needed fixing, and I sensed that there was a lot more work to be done on areas we couldn't see, but it didn't matter, it was ours! That first night, I snuggled into Dave's arms, felt the warmth of his hands on my chest and the strength of his body against my back, and swore nobody else in the world could be as happy as I was at that moment.

It took us another three weeks to actually unpack all of our belongings and re-arrange the furniture to our tastes sufficient to have the house at the point where we were ready to start having visitors, but the work involved was enjoyable, as Dave and I struggled together to make our home a place we were proud of. The 'house-warming' was going to be a relatively quiet event, just our closest circle of friends over for a few drinks and an inspection of the house by each and every one.


On the morning of our little party, Dave cornered me in the kitchen as I was putting together a tray of hors d'oeuvres in preparation.

"Hey handsome," he began as he slid up behind me, his arms going around my waist and pulling me into him. I smiled, and wriggled myself against him, but pretended annoyance.

"Dave! I'm busy, can't you wait until I'm finished?" I tried to pout.

"But I wanted to ask you something," he said, sounding rejected, although I knew it was nothing but an act.

"Whatever the question is, the answer's 'yes', okay. I'm too busy to worry about anything else at the moment."

"Great!" he exclaimed. "Then you won't mind if I announce it to our friends this afternoon, either?"

"Huh?" Now he had my full attention. "What are you talking about?"

Dave grinned at me with a smile that could kill. "I was going to ask if you still wanted to marry me, but you've already said yes."

I melted, and forgave him for bothering me. "Of course, I still want to marry you. You don't get away that easy," I said, sounding serious, although my eyes were full of joy that he had raised the subject again. "Besides, what would I do with this ." I held up my finger, the ring he had presented me still in place where he had slid it onto my hand that day we saw the house, " . if I didn't? And you know how I hate the thought of wasting good jewellery!"

Dave did his best to look indignant at my comment, but soon both of us were rolling around laughing, holding each other close and sharing the moment.

"So you don't mind if I tell everyone today?" he finally managed to get back to the purpose of his original interruption.

"Of course not! In fact, I'd be upset if you didn't," I answered him. He hugged me again, tightly, and left me to finish what I was doing, a huge grin on his face as he walked away.

The gathering of our friends was wonderful. Many of them were jealous of us, for finding each other and 'settling down', and all of them were very complimentary about the house itself. When Dave stood and asked for silence, and then announced in a strong voice, with one arm around my waist, that I had given him the best gift possible, and accepted his proposal that we get married, there was more than one misty eye in the room, and of course everyone wanted to know when and where the big event would happen.

"I don't know yet," I answered vacantly. "We hadn't gotten as far as planning any details. I guess I'd like to have a ceremony by the harbour somewhere, if we can manage it. I don't want a 'wedding' as such, like a parody of a straight marriage. I guess I'd prefer just a party with all our friends, where we can publicly make some vows to each other and acknowledge each other as partners for all the world to see and hear. And I don't know if Dave has any preferences. Like I said, we haven't discussed details."

Dave just smiled, and held me even more closely. "Wherever and whatever you want, handsome," he said. "I'll be happy as long as I have you by my side."

The days drifted by and turned into weeks. Dave had said nothing more about our 'wedding', but I wasn't too concerned. We had all the time in the world, and I was happy just being with him and setting up our home. One evening we were watching a travel programme on television and they featured holiday islands on the tropical North Queensland coast.

"I'd love to do that, have a holiday on a tropical island," Dave commented.

"Mmm, me too," I agreed.

We sat together as the story continued, both lost in our own thoughts. Then Dave turned to me and said with a thought-filled smile, "Why don't we?"

"Why don't we what?"

"Go on a holiday to an island. I mean it. You have time owing don't you?" I nodded confirmation. "Then see if you can take a week, say at the end of June - that's only five weeks away - and I'll book the tickets, and we'll go and have some time in the sun on a beach. Get away from the winter weather."

"Okay," I said, slowly getting enthused as his eagerness rubbed off on me. "Let's do it!"

I had no trouble taking time from work, and Dave announced that he'd arranged for us to fly up to Cairns on the Sunday afternoon, and stay at Turtle Cove, one of the gay resorts along the tropical coast which sheltered behind the Great Barrier Reef. Amid much talk of packing no clothes and lots of lube, we laughed and joked as I became more and more excited about our upcoming holiday. I boasted about it to my friends, although none of them seemed overly surprised. I put it down to jealousy, and promised them all I'd send postcards, grinning to myself about how lucky I was.

The time for our trip crept closer, and Dave seemed to be pre-occupied with something quite often in the evenings. I asked him at one stage if everything was okay, but he simply shrugged his shoulders and assured me that he was busy at work trying to cover the week he was going to be absent. I had no reason to think otherwise, so I happily accepted his explanation, and let it ride.


Finally the weekend of our vacation had arrived. It rained heavily most of Friday night, and Saturday morning dawned cold and overcast, more dark clouds threatening. Dave looked positively morose. He kept checking the sky, and looking at his watch. He seemed nervous about something, full of anticipation and worry.

After trying to get him to relax which he simply would not do, I blew up at him.

"For god's sake, Dave! So it's wet - by tomorrow afternoon we'll be two and a half thousand kilometres away on a sunny beach. Who cares what the weather is like here? Sydney can drown or freeze or both and we won't be here to worry about it!"

He stopped suddenly and looked at me. A grin slowly spread across his face as he calmed down noticeably. "Yeah, I guess so," he said, resignedly. With that, I stepped up to him and hugged him tightly. He returned my embrace, holding me close, and as I let go of him he appeared to relax a little.

Still, as the morning wore on, Dave's demeanour told me something was wrong. He appeared concerned about something, and the nerves were obviously returning. He made a couple of quiet phone calls, and although I couldn't hear what was said or who he spoke to, I sensed that plans were being made.

I tried to ignore Dave's strange behaviour and to busy myself with finishing the packing for our trip, although in truth everything we needed was already in suitcases and ready to go. After several hours of his uncharacteristic manner, I had had enough. I wandered back out into the courtyard to find him looking yet again at the sky, which was slowly clearing, spots of sunlight breaking through. He turned when he heard me approaching, a look of obvious relief on his face.

"Okay, stud!" I confronted him. "What the hell is going on?"

Dave smiled at me then, and looked at his watch before answering. "I'm sorry, handsome," he said. "I know I've been a pain in the arse, but I had a little surprise planned for you this afternoon and I didn't want it spoiled by bad weather."

"Surprise? What kind of surprise?" I asked, my face lighting up and my curiosity aroused now.

"Oh, come on, Mike. You wouldn't want me to tell you now and ruin it, would you? Besides, it's almost time now anyway."

With that he took me by the hand and led me into the spare bedroom. There, laid out on the bed, were matching suits, one for him and one for me. I looked at them, then back to him, and down at the suits again.

"What? Suits? That's a bit formal for a Saturday afternoon, isn't it?" I said suspiciously.

"I'm taking you to a very up-market place, so suits it is!" he said in a voice which brooked no more argument.

We dressed quickly as I ran through in my head all the possible places where he could be taking me. None of the restaurants we usually frequented would ever merit a suit and tie, especially during the afternoon. Try as I might, I could not come up with a single possibility to explain the dress code he was imposing on us. But Dave remained mute, and every time I even looked as though I was going to object or question, he simply smiled enigmatically and held his finger to his lips to silence me.

Dave was ready a few minutes before I was, and as I finished with my tie, he went to the front door, opening it and looking outside, before closing it and coming back to me. He looked at his watch again, and I glanced at a clock on the dressing table. It was just on 12.30.

"Perfect!" he declared as I finished. I looked at him again, but he just grinned at me, leaned forward and kissed me, and ushered me out of the bedroom and toward the front door. As we stepped outside, Dave locked the door, and turned me to the street, where a long white limousine was parked in front of the house. I gaped open-mouthed when the driver jumped out and came around to the rear door, holding it open and beckoning us to enter.

"Dave, this is too much," I said to his now beaming face.

"This is just the beginning, my man!" he stated with a mischievous look.

I sat back in the luxury of the huge car, enjoying the decadence it represented, while Dave poured us each a drink from the mini-bar which opened out of the panel separating us from the driver. As the vehicle headed toward the city centre, we clinked glasses.

"To us!" Dave said.

"I love you!" I stated quietly.

"I love you too," he said with yet another grin on his face.

The limo crawled through the traffic in Newtown, then picked up some speed along City Road and around into Broadway before slowing again as we approached Railway Square. I happily sat back and revelled in the admiring and envious looks of the other road users as we passed. We glided along the edge of Hyde Park and past St Mary's Cathedral before swinging right into the Domain. The picnickers and families stared at the car as it rolled past the Art Gallery. I knew now that we weren't going to any restaurant - this was a dead-end road that led out to Mrs Macquarie's Point, and there was nothing past here except the gardens and lawns looking across to the city.

My curiosity and my excitement were beginning to get the better of me, as I held his hand tightly and grinned with anticipation when the car slowed and then stopped at the top of the Queen Elizabeth steps. The driver quickly came around and held the door for us as we alighted, and Dave took my hand in his without any sense of self-consciousness. Slowly we started walking down the steps, the view across the sparkling blue waters of Farm Cove opening up as we came out of the trees, the Opera House and Harbour Bridge in front of us, the towers of the City climbing out of the green that was the Botanical Gardens across the shimmering aquamarine of the harbour from where we stood.

We came to the final landing, about 15 metres above the lawns, and stopped. I looked down and noticed a white open-sided marquee set up on the grass below us, a few people milling around as though waiting for something to start.

"Oh, Dave, this is just beautiful. What a pity someone has beaten us to it."

"What do you mean?"

"The tent down there. It's obviously been set up for some private function. But I love you for the thought anyway. What did you have planned? A picnic on the grass for just the two of us?"

Dave turned to face me, and took each of my hands in his own, his beautiful blue eyes piercing mine with an intensity I had rarely seen. When he spoke, it was quiet and solemn, full of sincerity and determination.

"Mike, do you really want to marry me?"

"Of course I do, I love you!" My heart rate started to increase at his words and his tone.

"Honestly? Are you absolutely certain?" Dave seemed to be searching my face for any doubt, any hesitation.

I looked squarely into his face. "I am absolutely certain of it. I want to spend the rest of my life, every moment of it, with you!"

Suddenly his face collapsed into a nervous grin. "Then let's do it!", he said.

"Wha .?"

"Come on, Mike!" and with that, he took me by the hand again and led me down the last of the stairs and headed straight toward the party group hovering near the tent. Realisation didn't so much dawn on me as hit me like a lightning bolt.

There were Rob and Pete, Neil and Geoff, Ian, John, Debbie and Louise, Sarah, Nick, all of our friends. I waded into the sea of smiling congratulatory faces, stunned by what was happening, amazed that he could have arranged all of this without my knowing. My chest swelled with pride, my face beaming with each new handshake or kiss on the cheek from these people, all of whom thought so much of us to be there for this special occasion. Even Dave's parents mingled amongst our friends, smiling at us. His sister was there, and his brother Michael and his wife Sally, with their three kids. Just when I thought there could be no more surprises, my sister Felicity emerged from a group. My face lit up.

"Hey, Fi, I can't believe you're here!" I said as I embraced her. "Where's Ron and Eddy and Gillian? (her husband and my nephew and niece).

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world!" she answered. "Ron and the kids will be here in just a minute. They've got a special surprise for you. Oh Mike, I think it's wonderful. It's about time someone tied you down, and Dave is the best man around. Well, after Ron of course!" We laughed and held each other again as Dave put his arm on her shoulders and joined in. True to her word, my brother-in-law appeared at that moment, tapping me on the shoulder, and shaking my hand.

"Congratulations, Mike," he said, a secretive smile in his eyes. "And there's someone else who wants to say hello ."

With that he stepped back, and from behind him came a very familiar but unexpected face.

"Mum!" I almost exploded. I hadn't seen my mother in nearly two years. I spoke to her often enough, and had told her all about moving in with Dave and buying the house, but she had moved to Adelaide after Dad died, and I rarely got the chance to make the trip to see her.

"Hello, my darling," she said, her arms going around my neck as she planted a big kiss on my cheek. She turned to Dave, and threw her arms around him, repeating the kiss as he started to redden. "It's so nice to see you again, Dave Mitchell!" she said, smiling. "Haven't you grown into a handsome young man? I can see why Mike fell for you."

Dave's red face turned scarlet, and I blushed as well. "Mum, please," I groaned, to the general laughter of those around us. I was so pleased to have her here, and so overwhelmed by the moment I felt my eyes start to mist up. Dave overcame his embarrassment, and started ushering people to their seats, leading me to the head table under the marquee. As everyone began to calm down, he stood up and cleared his throat, getting their attention. As all eyes turned to him, my man suddenly froze. After all that he had done to bring this gathering together just for us, his words and thoughts deserted him. I knew then that it was time for me to take control. I had enjoyed a 'free ride' up until now.

I stood up beside him, and slid one arm around his waist, hugging him reassuringly, the other hand going to his arm which I gripped tightly for moral support. Looking into the smiling, expectant faces of our fiends and relatives, I took a deep breath, and started.

"Dave and I are truly blessed to be able to call all of you our friends, and our family. The fact that he has managed to organise this event today, and that all of you have gathered here for us, without my knowing about it, suggests that you hold him in very high regard and affection. And deservedly so. This is not a marriage, since we still can't legally do that, but it is truly a wedding of two people, one to the other. I believe that since we are determined to make our relationship public without the benefit of a minister and a piece of paper, it makes it so much more real and important."

I turned then, and faced him directly, taking his hands in mine. "Dave, I have said this plenty of times when we were alone, but now I say it out loud, and in front of all of these people as witnesses. I love you. More than any words can express. David James Mitchell, I promise that I will always love you, now and forever. I promise to support you in whatever you choose to do, and to do all that I can to make you happy. I promise that I will try not to argue with you, and to never let any disagreement we may have come between us or lessen my love. I promise to stand by you against the worst the world can throw at us, and to share with you all the joys and wonders that life can bring us. I offer you my complete commitment and fidelity, and I give you myself absolutely."

Dave's eyes were misty, but they held my gaze and absorbed every word, his hands clasping my own tightly as I finished. He didn't look around, did not see anyone except me.

"Michael Alexander Trenton," he began. "In the presence of everyone who means something to me, I publicly declare that I love you, absolutely, and with all of my being. I promise that I will be with you, that I will support you, love you and share with you everything that the future holds for us, no matter how good or how bad. Every thing that I have and everything that I am, I give to you completely."

It was all I could do to see his face, my eyes were so filled with tears of joy. I heard a stifled sob from my mother, and quite a few attempts to clear choked throats from our friends. But my concentration was focussed on the wonderful man holding my hands. Dave looked again into my face, and now I saw a smile form on his lips.

"And I'm going to hold you to that promise not to argue!" he said quickly. A split second of silence was broken by laughter as our guests suddenly broke from the solemn moment and joined us in mirth. Dave's comment did nothing to lessen the seriousness of our words, but it released us so that we could enjoy this special moment with our friends. I loved him even more for doing it, and I beamed with pleasure at him.

As the giggles slowly faded, Neil jumped to his feet, close by where Dave and I were standing. He tapped his glass with a spoon, and waited for people to turn to him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are not going to do a round of speeches or anything like that. We are all here simply to witness and share in the special love and devotion that Dave and Mike have for each other. Please raise your glasses, and join me in drinking a toast - to Mike and Dave!"

"To Mike and Dave!" the words echoed around the group, as everyone came to their feet. Dave and I stood side by side now, arms around each other, smiling so widely I thought my face would split. As our guests sipped their drinks, Dave pulled me to himself, and kissed me, fully on the lips, tender and loving, in front of everyone. I kissed him back in a lingering touch, until slowly I became aware that the rest of the group was applauding loudly. As we broke our kiss, I turned again to face our friends and grinned.


The remainder of the afternoon whirled by me. I enjoyed myself immensely, but I can't recall much detail, because my mind was filled with the love I had for my man. We ate a delicious meal, but I don't remember what it was. We danced, although I cannot recall any particular number that was played. We talked at length with all of our friends and our families.

I do remember part of our conversation with Dave's sister-in-law, Sally. Dave had thanked her for coming, and I made a comment about bringing her children along, and how happy I was that she didn't exclude the kids from a 'gay wedding'.

"Of course not!" she said quickly, looking surprised. "They love their Uncle Dave, and I'm sure they're going to feel the same about Uncle Mike." I grinned at that and hugged Dave again. "Besides, I expect you two to start doing your share as babysitters." We all chuckled together as Dave pretended to groan. Then she went on, "Besides, I want to set them a good example, show them it's okay for two men to love each other. Maybe even give them some confidence."

I raised my eyebrows at such a strange comment. Dave looked to Sally with a question on his face.

"I have a feeling Jarod may be gay," she said, almost off-handedly.

"Jarod? But he's only 11 years old!" sputtered Dave.

"Almost 12!" Sally corrected, "but a mother can sense these things. I'm not sure, but if he is, then I want him to be able to tell us without worrying about it, when he's ready."

I smiled inwardly. How much the world was changing since we were kids. There was hope for the human race yet.


Eventually, the party began to wind down, and we again did the rounds of our friends and relatives, thanking them all for coming and sharing our day with us. Dave looked out across the harbour, as if waiting for something, and then said to me quietly,

"Okay, handsome, time to go."

I smiled at him and began to walk toward the stairs leading up to the roadway.

"Where are you off to?" he called.

I turned around, confused, and he took me by the hand, and led me back across the lawns to the edge of the harbour, just as a water taxi pulled into the sandstone wall bordering the gardens. To the applause and good wishes of our guests, Dave and I carefully negotiated the retractable gangway and climbed into the rear of the taxi, settling ourselves in as the driver/pilot drew in the walkway and gunned the outboard motors.

We shot off across Farm Cove and rounded the front of the Opera House, watching the hordes of tourists gawk at us as we passed. Skipping over the entrance to Circular Quay, in a matter of ten minutes we were pulling into the wharf at the front of the Park Hyatt Hotel, the Harbour Bridge towering above us. A bellboy raced down the wharf to help us out of the small craft, and escort us into reception so we could check in.

Standing at the desk as we registered, I was overcome by the effort and thoughtfulness that Dave had invested in our wedding day. Not caring about the other guests in the foyer of the hotel, I slid my arm around his waist and hugged him. The duty manager who was checking us in noticed, and raised an eyebrow at my actions, before letting a tiny smile cross his face. There was certainly no sign of disapproval in his eyes.

"A special occasion, gentlemen?" he asked as we signed the forms.

"Uh, yes," Dave hesitated, but I didn't care what others thought, I wanted the world to know how happy I was.

"Our wedding day!" I announced happily, as Dave gasped a little and looked up quickly to gauge the manager's reaction.

"I see. Congratulations!" he said, his smile widening. "Just a moment, please .". Dave and I looked at each other in confusion as he tapped at a hidden keyboard below the counter and examined a screen. Dave shrugged his shoulders in a question and I shook my head, wondering what was the problem. The manager looked back up at us, another smile followed by the slightest hint of a wink of his eye.

"Compliments of the Hotel, Mr Trenton and Mr Mitchell, - we've upgraded your reservation - to the Honeymoon Suite. Enjoy your stay!"

Dave's jaw fell open, but I simply chuckled softly as we followed one of the clerks toward the lifts. The room was amazing, perched above the water, with panoramic views of the city skyline. But I only had eyes for Dave.

As soon as we were alone, I slowly, tenderly undressed him, pulling his clothes away piece by piece to reveal his magnificent body, the sight of which I drank in with my eyes. I ran my finger down from his neck and across his chiselled pecs, pinching softly at each nipple and then drawing my hand lower, tracing the sculpted lines of his abdomen with my nail. My fingers slid into the bush of curly hair around his large and growing cock before I gripped his nuts in my hand, squeezing them and then letting go so I could follow the line of his now rigid shaft with my fingertip, scooping the first droplet of pre-cum from his slit and lifting it to my lips to taste his very essence. My hand returned to his chest, and slid up until I cupped his square jaw in my palm. I looked once more into his eyes.

"I love you, Dave Mitchell!" I said softly.

"I love you, Mike Trenton!" he replied in kind.

He leaned forward and kissed me, slowly, softly to begin with, but as we connected his passion grew, his urgency intensifying. Suddenly he leaned around me, one arm under my butt, the other beneath my shoulders, and he picked me up in his arms, our lips still locked together, and carried me the few steps to the king size bed. Laying me onto the soft platform, he climbed over me, leaning down and into me as our tongues wrestled and our mouths explored each other.

His face slid over my chin and down my neck, his lips attacking my chest, as he bit at my nipples and ran his hands all over my body.

"Dave," I hissed at him, "I need you, my love."

Silently he gazed into my eyes yet again, and leaned into me as I lifted my knees and wrapped my legs around his powerful torso. No words were said, but a powerful exchange passed between us as the depth of our feelings for each other were suddenly clear and undoubted to both of us. I ached with the love I had for him, and I saw in his eyes that he felt the same. Wriggling myself around below him, I managed to find the wonderful hardness of his cockhead and to press my puckering hole up and against his solidity. I relaxed my muscles and my eyes pleaded with him to take me.

With a single, long, steady and measured thrust his manly pole pierced my sphincter and penetrated my body, filling me with incredible warmth and driving his throbbing strength into my gut. I gasped with joyous ecstasy as he ploughed himself into me, and moaned with happiness as his balls came to rest against my upturned butt, the full length of him buried to the hilt within my arse. He pulled back and slid into me again as I clenched my muscles around his shaft and gripped at him. His rhythm varied from long slow strokes to lusty jabbing spikes as he took me for his own, fucking and humping at me.

I trembled and writhed beneath him, milking his mighty weapon with my ring and hunching up against him as he pumped himself into me. He slowed his pace, moved his hips in a circular motion which caused his long hard prick to probe and touch every part of my innards as he made love to me, the whole time our eyes never breaking contact with each other. My heels dug into his solid round butt cheeks, pulling him further and harder into me, needing to feel him as far inside as possible. This afternoon we had united emotionally, and tonight we coupled physically, becoming a single, fucking entity absorbed by our passion and consumed with our love for each other.

My nerves tingled, my senses raced as my body responded to the incredible eroticism of his love making. My arse was on fire and my body fulfilled by his very masculinity driving deep inside me. I stared at the watery orbs of his eyes, misting over with emotion and arousal, and he stared back as I gave myself completely to him in that moment. I felt his urgency grow, felt his need approach its peak, and suddenly he slammed his body into mine, drove his prick deep within me and stopped. Spasms rocked him as he cried out soundlessly with release, his testicles pumping their precious contents up through his long thick rod and into my core. I held him tightly as he shuddered with each new explosion, my rectum drinking his very essence and clamping around him for more. I moaned with happiness as I thought of his seed deposited deep within me, a part of him injected into my very being, for me to keep always.

Slowly, his shaking eased as his climax passed. Still our eyes were locked. My own peak was close, my body trembling with arousal and my nuts drawing up into my pelvis with excitement. I knew I was near the edge, unable to hold back much longer from my own eruption. Suddenly Dave pulled back, withdrawing that glorious sword of flesh from me, but before I could express my disappointment, his head dropped and his mouth closed over my rod, his throat clamping around my inflamed cock. Within seconds my natural urges surrendered to the incredible sensation of his warm wet gullet enveloping my manhood, and with a strangled cry my orgasm crashed over me. Load after load of cum shot up along my rampant tool and into Dave's welcoming mouth. I shook with the force of my ejaculation, and he held himself over me, swallowing furiously, massaging my prick with his throat and drinking my masculinity.

As I collapsed back onto the bed, totally spent, Dave lifted himself again, and lay beside me, his arms around me. We kissed, long and slowly, savouring the moment. "Now part of me is inside you, and part of you is inside me," he whispered.

"And we'll always be a part of each other," I finished for him.

After we had recovered sufficiently to get up off the bed, we wrapped ourselves in the robes supplied by the hotel, and stood on our private balcony, taking in the magical view of the city lights, the shimmering water and the passing boats. Sipping on the complimentary champagne, we held each other again.

"Dave, thank you for making me the happiest man on earth!" I said softly to him.

"Second happiest!" he corrected me. "The happiest man on earth is married to you!" I knew then that nothing could ever bother me again, so long as I was with him.

Dave walked around behind me, and as I leaned on the railing, he leaned into me, his arms wrapping around me. I wriggled back against him, and felt a familiar hardness pressing against my bum. I smiled to myself. Our future was guaranteed to be bright and wonderful, and there was a lot more of the night to enjoy yet!


Epilogue - The Lessons of the Past

It's been more than five years now since Dave and I were 'married'. It is still one of my happiest, brightest memories, that day by the harbour, and the following night in the Hotel. We followed it with a marvellous week of love-making and sunbathing at a tropical resort, and then came home to settle into our new life together.

Despite my promises that day, we have had a few fights over the years, but we have always made sure we made up before we went to sleep that night. And the years have been good to us. Dave is still as stunningly gorgeous as ever, and I love him even more now than I did back then. Sometimes, late at night as I lie in our bed with his arm across my chest and his deep contented breathing in my ear, I want to cry with joy at how lucky I am, and how amazing it is that such a perfect man as he could fall in love with me.

Our home too, has lived up to all of our expectations and fulfilled all of our dreams. We've made it a warm and welcoming place, often filled with the laughter and joy of our friends and our families. We've held dinner parties and barbecues, afternoon soirees and innumerable gatherings. We've fulfilled our promise to our families, and become favourite Uncles to a host of nieces and nephews. And in all that time, I have never lost the wonder and the thrill of making love with him. Every time is better than the last, and every second away from him is an eternity.


It was the first week of September, and spring was in the air. I was always amazed at how the change from winter took place overnight, blossoms appearing everywhere, and a definite warmth in the morning air. That Saturday morning I had just finished some laundry and Dave was in the guest bedroom, scrubbing it down in preparation for a new coat of paint. Domestic bliss! I thought to myself, when I heard the phone ring. Dave answered it, and a conversation ensued which I couldn't hear. Ten minutes later, he wandered out to find me.

"Sally says hi!"

"Oh right," I replied. "How is my favourite sister-in-law?"

"She's well. She rang to ask if we would baby-sit next weekend."

"I guess so," I answered, thinking hard. "I hope the paint is dry and the smell gone by that time from the bedroom. What are they up to?"

Dave looked thoughtful. "Nothing. Sally and Michael don't have any plans at all ..."

"Then why are we babysitting?" I asked, confused.

"Apparently, it's not her idea. Jarod has been at her, asking if he can come and stay with us for a weekend. Just him, not the other kids."

"Jarod? Has he come out yet?" I asked with a smile. It had been a continuing joke between us and Sally since she confided at our wedding that she suspected her then 11 year old son might be gay. He was now a good looking young man of 17.

Instead of the usual laugh from Dave, all I got was a long, thoughtful look. "No," he said finally, "but Sally thinks he might want to - to us!"

"Oh!" I said quietly, the implications sinking in. "Well, I suppose he's at the age when he knows. What did you tell her?"

"That he could come and stay, and that we wouldn't push him at all, but that we'd let him tell us whatever he wanted."


The following weekend arrived remarkably quickly. Strangely enough, both Dave and I were somehow nervous about what it would bring. We had always encouraged our nieces and nephews to be honest and open, to ask any questions of us, and tried to answer them honestly, but this was different, and we just weren't sure how to handle it. Hell, we didn't even know for sure what 'it' was!

Jarod arrived early Saturday morning, getting himself to our place by train, exerting his independence from his parents. At seventeen he was all but a man, and yet he still had a wonderful boyish quality about him. I met him at the door, and was struck by how attractive he had become physically. His legs were strong and muscled, and I knew he was part of the cycling team at school. His arms were powerful and his shoulders wide. I mused that good looks must run in Dave's family.

"Hi Uncle Mike!" he exclaimed as I opened the door.

"Hi yourself, handsome," I replied as usual. "I swear you get better looking every time I see you. I'll bet you're breaking hearts all over that school of yours!"

He blushed and gulped, both normal reactions from him, and something I'd managed to elicit for a long time now. Maybe it was my imagination, but this time he seemed to take my comments a little more to heart than before.

Dave heard his voice and bellowed from the living room, "Is that my favourite nephew you're keeping to yourself out there, Trenton?"

Jarod laughed and threw his bag into his room, heading to the back of the house. "Hey there Uncle Dave!"

Dave looked him up and down, and looked over Jarod's shoulder to me, winking slightly in one of our shared signals. He appeared to become serious, trying to keep a stern expression on his face. "Now listen here, Jarod! You're a man now, or close enough for the difference not to matter. We won't have any more of this 'uncle' business, it makes both Mike and I feel positively ancient. From now on, you call us 'Mike' and 'Dave', okay?"

Jarod's grin lit up his face. "You bet, Unc ..., erh, you bet Dave!" he said enthusiastically.

"Great." Dave replied. "Now, the other fun part about being grown up is that you get to help with the work! Mike is busy inside, but you and I are going to attack this garden, before it gets overgrown with the new season, okay?"

Jarod pretended a groan, but I could see he was actually delighted to be included as one of the adults. He and Dave set to work in the yard, and Dave kept him busy for the rest of the morning with weeding and cutting, and generally cleaning up. By early afternoon, the garden was looking much better, and Dave called a halt to their efforts.

"Lunch!" I declared, delivering a tray of cold cuts and rolls, salad and cheese onto the small table on our deck, overlooking the garden.

"When does the rest of the crowd arrive?" Dave asked with a grin.

"Yeah, there's an awful lot of food here," Jarod agreed.

I tried to look offended. "Got to keep my men well fed," I answered them. "Need to keep their energy levels up!" I added in a loud stage whisper, overemphasizing a leery wink at Dave. He tried to stifle a laugh as Jarod turned red and attempted to look away. I ignored both of them as I set three glasses on the table and poured each of us a full measure of red wine - a very nice Merlot, perfect for a spring afternoon, that we had been cellaring for a while.

Jarod looked at the glass with surprise. "Is that for me?"

"Uh huh," I nodded. As with all of the children, Dave and I had, with their parents blessing, insisted that from a young age they be allowed to taste wine, and taught to appreciate the good from the bad. In addition, we felt it lessened the possibility of them over-indulging once they were legally able to buy alcohol themselves, if the mystery were removed while they were still adolescent. But such tasting was usually allowed by sampling very small sips, and Jarod was the first to be given his own full serve.

"You do the work of a man, you get treated like a man," I said, smiling at him. And then my face became serious. "Of course, you also have to act like a man, or you'll be treated like a kid again."

Dave nodded to me over Jarod's head, approving of my strategy. From then on, we made no more reference to Jarod's age. We ate our lunch leisurely, and chatted about whatever came to mind. Dave and I discussed things that needed doing around the house, asking Jarod for his opinion. We talked about work, about our friends, about planned parties and so on. Family members were discussed, and several times we tried to draw Jarod out by asking him about school, about his academic work, about the cycling team, about his friends. Each time he answered politely, but then seemed to quieten until we moved on to some other topic. He did however seem to be very happy to be included in our conversation and treated as an adult.

The afternoon wore on as we sat and talked, relaxing together. Our drinks had been replenished several times, and I was keeping my eye on our nephew given the amount of alcohol he was not accustomed to, but he seemed to be taking it all in his stride. At least he was starting to open up a bit more, his natural shyness decreasing as the time went by.

"So, what do you want to do tonight?" Dave asked the air, although his question was aimed at Jarod.

"Um, I don't know," the young man replied.

"Well, it's your weekend. Did you want to catch a movie, dinner, party on?" asked Dave.

"Sex, drugs, rock 'n' roll?" I added helpfully. Dave threw a cushion at me, as Jarod laughed self consciously.

"No, thanks, but if it's okay, well, I think I'd rather just hang around here with you," Jarod said quietly.

"What?" I asked, surprise in my voice. "Spend a Saturday night with a couple of boring old uncles? Take away food and a movie on the telly? What kind of teenager are you anyway?"

Dave nudged Jarod with his elbow, looked toward me and nodded. Together, they swung around with cushions in hand, and I copped a double blow to either side of my head. When I tried to fight back, Dave grabbed hold of my ands and refused to let go as I struggled with him, as all three of us laughed uproariously. Eventually, I managed to free myself by pulling him against me and planting a long kiss on his lips. When we separated again, Jarod was looking at us intently, an unreadable expression on his face. It surprised both of us, since we had never hidden our affection for each other around the children.

"Honestly," he said as Dave and I re-seated ourselves, "a night at home with you would be great."

"Okay," I agreed. "So you can either have your choice of fast food and we pick the movie, or vice versa. What do you think?"

"My pick, and I choose dinner - pizza!" Jarod exclaimed.

"Just as well," I lectured. "If you'd said burgers I'd have been forced to kill you!" In truth, Dave and I would probably have gone for a nice Italian meal at a cafe, then a few drinks at one of the bars before heading home, but there was no way I was taking Jarod to a bar yet, even if he could have probably gotten away with it with his size and build. We had learned to live with fast food for the sake of the nephews and nieces.

The evening was coming on, and even though it was September, there was still a chill in the night air. "Okay, guys," I announced. "Jarod, why don't you take a shower and clean up. I'll tidy out here, and Dave, you can set up the loungeroom, and pick a movie."

As the young man disappeared into the bathroom, I looked to Dave. "What do you think?"

"He definitely has something on his mind, but I don't think he knows how to bring it up."

"My thoughts exactly."

Dave suddenly grinned. "I might be overplaying things, but I have an idea ..." He explained what he planned, and I smiled. If being gay was what was on Jarod's mind, this would be one way to get him to open up.


An hour and a half later, we were ready for the movie. We'd taken turns at showering and cleaning, and Jarod had been left to order the pizza which had been delivered and was awaiting consumption. We arranged ourselves in front of the television, Dave and I next to each other and Jarod on the neighbouring chair, the pizza on a coffee table in front of us and a bottle of wine breathing beside it.

"Ready?" Dave asked, and Jarod and I nodded as we settled in and Dave started the video. It was an old movie from our collection, called "Our Sons" with Julie Andrews, Anne Margret, and Hugh Grant, and told the story of a gay couple where one of them was dying of AIDS and his partner's mother (Julie Andrews) was determined to re-unite the dying man with his mother (Anne Margret) who had thrown him out when she discovered he was gay. Not terribly subtle in the present circumstances, but a movie we both enjoyed tremendously, and one which always evoked tears at the end.

As the movie progressed, the three of us finished off the pizza and had some more wine. Dave and I slid down onto the floor, arms around each other in a makeshift bed of pillows and blankets, while Jarod stretched out lengthwise on the sofa. When the final credits rolled, I sniffled back a tear, and kissed Dave softly. "I love you," I whispered to him.

"I love you, too," he responded quietly. "That movie always makes me cry," he added.

Jarod was strangely quiet. I looked to where he was lying, wondering if he'd fallen asleep, but he was sobbing silently to himself.

"Hey, guy," I said, reaching for him. "It's okay."

Dave looked up and came over to him as well. "It's only a movie, Jarod, don't be too upset."

"How could anyone be so hateful?" he sniffled. "Surely no-one could be that awful to their own son just because he's gay?"

"Well," Dave said slowly, choosing his words. "Unfortunately, yes some people are like that. Don't forget, that movie was made a long while ago now, and attitudes have changed. Even from when Mike and I were growing up things have gotten a lot better."

"Surely you didn't get that kind of treatment?" Jarod looked aghast.

"No," I said reassuringly, "We were both lucky to have loving, understanding families, but we also both know people who were treated very badly." I took a breath, and went on. "It was still very hard for your uncle and I to admit how we felt. We went to school together you know, but didn't actually tell each other how we felt until many years later."

Jarod gasped at my last comment, and looked startled, his eyes wide. I wondered what had made him jump like that. Dave spoke again.

"You know, Jarod, that things are easier now. Your own mother actually told us the day Mike and I got married that she hoped our getting married would be an example for her children, and that they would know by seeing us that it was okay for two men to love each other." He didn't repeat the rest of that conversation, but Jarod looked up in surprise just the same.

"My mother said that?"

"Yep. She's a very understanding lady, your mum," I added, watching him closely.

Jarod's face betrayed the emotions churning within him. The plot line of the movie, our presence, and the wine all seemed to contribute to his ability to get out the next few words. With anguish in his voice, he tried to speak, stopped, drew a breath, and tried again.

"Mike, Dave, " he choked out, "I'm gay." The words were spoken so softly it was almost impossible to hear them, but we did. Dave looked at me, his eyebrows raised, and I nodded as he moved to sit next to our nephew, and hold him in his arms.

"It's okay, Jarod," Dave cooed to him. "We thought you might be."

The boy looked up suddenly, his face ashen. "Is it that obvious? Can everyone tell just by looking at me?" There was a note of panic in his voice.

"No, no," Dave soothed him. "But you've been wanting to say something all day, and there had to be a reason for someone your age giving up a weekend to stay with his old uncles."

Jarod bristled. "You're not old! And I love being here. I'd want to come and stay even if I didn't have anything to tell you!"

"Well, thank you for the compliment," I said, joining them. "It doesn't matter that you're gay. In fact, we're kinda proud that you chose us to tell first."

"I couldn't tell anyone else," he said softly, his voice trailing away to silence.

"What about your mother?" Dave asked.

"Mum? No way. She'd be shocked, and disappointed, and upset."

I looked at him, my heart going out to him. "I don't think so, Jarod. Who do you think told us that she thought you wanted to spend the weekend with us because you needed to tell someone about yourself?"

He looked at me, disbelief in his eyes. "No way!"

Dave held him again. "Yes, Jarod. And she is really worried for you - not that you're gay, but that you're having trouble accepting it, or telling anyone about how you feel, about who you are."

He sat there, shaking his head, as Dave and I surrounded him, a group hug holding the three of us together. Jarod's eyes filled again and he started to cry softly. "It's okay," Dave said to him. "No need to be upset."

"I'm not upset, I'm just well, relieved, and so happy," Jarod sniffed. "I don't believe how good it feels, being able to talk about it."

I laughed softly remembering my own coming out. Dave joined me and we kissed again. Jarod peeked up at us from his blanket.

"There's more ..." he said.

"Go on," Dave sat back again, his arms around the young man.

"There's this guy at school - we're on the cycling team together. He is just gorgeous. I think I'm in love with him, but I don't know how he feels, and I can't bring myself to say anything to him."

Dave and I, as one, broke out in bellowing laughs, guffaws which rocked us both as we sat there. Jarod looked from one to the other and back again, confused and hurt. "It's not that funny!" he said, a pout on his lips.

"My man," I said, still chuckling. "Dave and I were on the swimming team together at school. Both of us wanted the other, but neither of us was game to say anything. We ached for each other, but never got together. It wasn't until years later that we finally told each other how we had felt. We missed out on so much time together because we couldn't tell ourselves, or anyone else, what we were feeling."

"No!" he said. His eyes bored into each of us, me first and then Dave. Finally he accepted the truth of what we were saying, and began to laugh along with us. It was a tremendous release for him, and the weight of his worries lifted from his young shoulders as he shared something with us that none of us had expected.

Eventually, we regained our composure. "Well," I declared. "We're not going to let you make the same mistake we did. I won't guarantee you that you and ..."

"Peter," he said, the feeling in his voice unmistakable.

"I won't guarantee that you and Peter will actually turn out to be a couple, or even that he will want you. He may not even be gay, but at least we can try to make sure you don't miss out on any possibilities, the way we did."

"How close are you, as friends?" Dave asked. "Does he spend time at your house? Do you go out together at all?"

"Yeah," Jarod sounded uncertain. "He comes over to home from time to time. Obviously we spend a lot of time together at practice and at meets with the team. And we sometimes go to the movies, or get a burger together after school."

Dave thought about it. "Ever spent a weekend at his place or yours?"

"Once. I stayed with him and his folks when they went down the coast one weekend. But nothing happened between us, just fishing and swimming and that."

"It's okay Jarod," Dave said. "I'm not suggesting anything like that. I'm just trying to come up with some ideas. Do you have any reason to think he might be interested in you. Romantically I mean?"

"Umm, sometimes I see him looking at me in the changerooms after a meet. But whenever he sees me looking, he always looks away really quickly. And pretends like he wasn't looking at all."

Dave and I looked at each other, smiles breaking out on both our faces, a knowing glance passing between us. I steered the conversation away from Peter for a while, drawing Jarod out about how he felt, letting him talk about his feelings about being gay. I knew that by talking it out he would find a great deal of relief from the tension he must have been experiencing.

As he spoke, Dave sat and listened, but I could see he was hatching some kind of plan in his head. Jarod talked for hours, well into the night, and we sat and listened, feeling for this articulate, handsome young man, so much like us when we were his age, and yet so different too.

Eventually, the talking slowed as tiredness came upon us. I bundled Jarod off to bed, and dragged my man into our room. "What are you thinking?" I asked.

"I'm not sure yet," Dave answered. "Let me sleep on it, and I'll discuss what I have in mind before I run it past Jarod, okay?"

"Okay, stud! I love you, you know."

"I know," he grinned. "I love you, too."


The next morning Dave and I were up and about long before Jarod showed his face. We were sitting on the back deck when he finally appeared, wandering out to us with a tired expression on his face.

"Morning, Uncs," he called, earning himself a dark look from me. "Oh, yeah, sorry, morning Mike, morning Dave," he corrected himself with a grin. "Any coffee?"

"If you're old enough to drink it, you're old enough to make it yourself," Dave said with a smile at me.

"I'll have a refill while you're at it," I said quickly, winking at Dave. Jarod grumbled something under his breath, but got himself a coffee, and a top-up for me. He sat in silence for a while sipping at the brew while the three of us just looked out onto the spring morning. It was Jarod who broke the quiet.

"Dave, Mike, I just want to say thanks for yesterday, for listening and letting me talk, I can't believe how much better it feels to have brought it out in the open."

I smiled warmly at our nephew, as Dave reached over to him and gave him a gentle cuff on the shoulder. "Anytime, Jarod," he said. "If you ever want to talk about anything at all, Mike and I will both be here for you."

"You still have to tell your mother," I cautioned, "although I'm sure it won't be as hard as you think."

"Maybe not," Jarod looked unconvinced.

"And just a suggestion," I went on. "I think maybe just tell her you're gay for now. Let her get used to it before you start talking to her about possible boyfriends, okay?" Dave grinned, and Jarod nodded slowly, taking it all to heart.

"On that subject," Dave interjected, "I have an idea." Jarod looked up quickly, and I nodded to Dave to go on. He had already told me his plan and I agreed it was a good way to help.

Jarod looked up as he continued. "Newtown Street Fair is on in a few weeks from now. It's nothing special, but it involves closing the main street and setting up stalls and entertainment and whatever. Does that sound like something you would like to go to?"

"Yeah," said Jarod enthusiastically, but with a question in his voice.

"Why don't you ask Peter if he'd like to spend a weekend with you at your crusty old uncle's place, to go to the fair and just generally get away from the family? That will sound innocent enough, and once we can see his reaction to your uncle being gay, and all the weird and wonderful sights he'll see at the Fair, then you'll know whether it's safe to tell him how you feel."

Jarod's eyes lit up as he listened to Dave's proposal, a grin splitting his face. "Thanks," he said at last, "Thank you Dave, thank you Mike, I can't tell you how much this means to me."

We smiled at him, as plans were made for the weekend with his friend at our home. It felt good to be helping him like this, and I wondered how much different things may have been for us had we had someone to help out when we were his age.


The planned weekend arrived quickly enough. We had plotted with Jarod to try to keep things as innocent as possible. If it turned out that Peter was straight, we didn't want Jarod or him getting hurt anymore than was absolutely necessary. Although I felt uneasy at the way we were proposing to manipulate the young boy we didn't even know, Dave convinced me that it was for the best.

As their cab pulled up outside, I called to Dave who went to open the door to meet them. I waited, out of sight, in the bedroom.

"Jarod!" I heard Dave call out. "How are you my boy. And you must be Peter! Welcome, come on in." I heard a muffled response from Jarod, and another voice, although I couldn't make out the words, and then footsteps as they started along the hallway.

"It's really good of you to have us for the weekend, Mr Mitchell, I'm looking forward to it," said an unfamiliar voice, obviously Jarod's friend.

"Not at all," boomed Dave, and I'll have none of this 'Mr Mitchell' business. From now on, it's 'Dave', okay?"

"Yes, sir," said the voice.

I wandered casually out to face the three, trying to act like I had just heard them.

"Hi," I called. "Jarod, good to see you again," I said as I shook his hand. "Peter? Nice to meet you." Peter's face registered confusion, as Jarod spoke up.

"Peter, this is Uncle Mike, Uncle Dave's partner."

Peter stood there, shaking my hand uncertainly, as Dave admonished Jarod gently. "What have we told you? We're Mike and Dave - no 'Uncle' - it makes us feel old."

"Make yourselves at home, boys," I said, showing them into the guest bedroom. "You have a choice, you can either bunk down together in the double bed, or toss a coin to see who gets the foldout, but we'll worry about that later. For now, leave your things here, and come on out to the deck. We'll have a coffee and settle in before we head up to Newtown, okay? And you, handsome," I added, directing my words to Dave, "get out here and help me with the coffees while these two unpack."

Dave took a pretend swipe at my arse with his hand. "Bossy, isn't he?" he said in a loud whisper addressed to the boys, then turned and kissed me quickly as I glared at him. We played our roles like seasoned actors.

Jarod stifled a grin as he replied, "Yes, sir!", and Dave followed me out of the room. We ignored the open jaw and blushing face of Peter as we left.

From the kitchen I could hear Jarod and Peter in conversation, muffled but distinct.

"You're uncle is gay!" Peter said in a shocked voice.

"Uhh, yeah, he is," replied Jarod.

"But you never told me."

"I never thought about it. Dave and Mike have always been together. They're just my uncles, I don't think of them as gay, just as them!" Jarod had rehearsed his answers well, and I permitted myself a smile as I walked away to join Dave on the patio with a tray of coffee cups and biscuits. The two boys joined us a few minutes later.

"So, Peter, Jarod tells us you're on the cycling team together," stated Dave as they sat with us.

"Y, yes, sir, uhh, I mean yes Dave," Peter stammered. The conversation was then steered into neutral territory, as we discussed the team's chances, school generally, remembered our own school achievements on the swimming team and generally talked about whatever seemed to interest the two young men. Slowly Peter relaxed in our company, joining in the discussion, although I caught him several times staring intently at either myself or Dave, and trying not to make his concentration obvious.

Soon enough, we packed up the remnants of our snack, and walked up to King Street, into the throng of the Street Fair. Newtown being what it was, there were thousands of people there, gay couples and singles, goths and punks, straight couples with children, yuppies and old Greek men, all mixing together in the cosmopolitan melting pot Dave and I enjoyed so much. The stalls offered every imaginable ware, from "Save the Forests" bumper stickers to bongs and incense sticks, from cheap Indian jewellery to very expensive high-fashion clothing. Jarod and Peter both gasped and stared quite often at the sights they were confronted with, and Dave and I held hands as we strolled along, nodding to some of the familiar faces. Peter could not keep his eyes still, turning this way and that, trying to take it all in, and Jarod too was enthralled by the mix and variety of the people and the goods on offer.

After several hours of wandering and looking, occasionally stopping to pick something up and examine it, even to make a purchase here and there, Dave declared that it was time to stop and sit down. We squeezed ourselves into one of the tiny tables on the footpath outside a cafe, grabbing the four chairs we needed, and collapsed as a very good looking and slightly effeminate guy came to take our order. As he scribbled on his pad, he smiled at us, and winked openly at Jarod and Peter, the latter of whom blushed deep red, but whose eyes followed him as retreated to the kitchen, before returning to fix on Jarod with a renewed gleam.

Finally, we returned home, tired but pleased with ourselves. Taking up our seats on the patio again, I poured each of us, including the boys, a glass of red wine as they began to examine the trinkets they had bought. Jarod took his glass as if born to it, while Peter looked guilty as he sipped his wine, then became bolder as none of us made any reference or comment about it. The shadows lengthened as we sat and relaxed, chatting easily now. I made a comment to Dave about spending way too much money on a set of champagne flutes he'd purchased and he tried to look contrite as he turned to me with a false frown.

"But you love me anyway, don't you?" he whined plaintively. Jarod chuckled, and I reached my hand to Dave's head, pulling gently on his ear.

"Of course I do, handsome," I said, and leaned to him, kissing him tenderly, and for longer than was necessary. As I sat back into my chair again, I saw Peter staring goggle eyed at us, his cheeks turning bright scarlet for possibly the hundredth time that day. Now was the chance I had been looking for.

"Jarod," I said quietly, "would you grab another bottle of wine from the rack for us?" He nodded and disappeared to do as asked. I turned to his friend. "Peter, I've noticed you blushing, and staring at Dave and I, and at some of the other gay guys in Newtown this afternoon." His embarrassment returned as his eyes fell to the table. I went on in a soft, and hopefully comforting voice. "It's okay, but I was wondering if you feel uncomfortable being with us. Are you uneasy with gay people?"

"No, si ... no, Mike," he said in a tiny voice.

Dave took my hand, squeezing it in reassurance as I went on. "It's okay if you aren't comfortable," I said. "We understand that some people have difficulties accepting us. What we don't want is for you to be uneasy being here, or to spoil the weekend for you or Jarod. We're not going to change, or stop doing what we do, especially in our own home, but if you would be happier, we can arrange to send both of you home. Dave can phone both Jarod's parents and yours, and give them some excuse about having unexpected guests arrive so that we've no room for you to stay if that would make things easier for you."

Peter lifted his face to me suddenly. "NO!" he exploded, with an intensity which surprised both of us. "I want to stay, if that's alright?"

"Of course it is! We were simply concerned that you might be feeling uneasy, or threatened in some way."

Peter looked long and hard at me, as I noticed Jarod coming back to the deck where we sat. Trying not to be obvious, I motioned for Jarod to wait where he was. I could sense Peter was turning over in his head what to say in response to my words.

"Mike," he began, softly, almost whispering. "I'm not uncomfortable at all. I think it's fantastic that you and Dave are so open, and so loving. I guess I'm just not used to seeing two guys together and not trying to hide how they feel. Honestly, I'm really enjoying your hospitality and your company, and I'd like to stay."

I smiled warmly at him, as Dave stepped into the conversation. "That's fine by us, Peter," he said with a grin. "We're enjoying your company too. You're a fine young man, and we're very happy that Jarod has such good friends. Just so long as you aren't upset or nervous about being with gay people."

"Not at all, Dave," Peter answered quickly and at ease now. "I feel more at home here with you than I have anywhere for a long while!" he added.

As he did, Jarod moved forward again, placing the bottle he was carrying on the table. I looked up to see his face beaming at what he had heard. In my head I repeated what we had told him when we planned the weekend - go slowly, don't rush him!

"I'm so pleased you said that!" Jarod smiled to Peter as he sat down and I re-filled all our glasses. A new, confident Jarod was emerging now. He continued, "I have something to tell you, Peter, that I've wanted to say for a while, but wasn't game." Slowly Jarod! I thought to myself. I could see Dave too was watching both of them closely, concern on his face. "Peter, I'm gay too." He stopped, sat back, and watched. I breathed a long slow sigh of relief that Jarod hadn't blurted out his feelings for Peter, and looked to the other boy.

Peter's face went white, then red. His mouth fell open as he tried to find words and failed. He took several sharp quick breaths and tried again. "You are?" the shock was obvious and real.

"Yep," said Jarod simply. "But I needed to know how you felt about gay guys before I told you. That's one of the reasons I asked you to spend the weekend with me at Dave and Mike's. Are you okay about this?" he asked, now his face filled with concern as he looked to his friend for a reaction.

Peter took a long draft from his wine. He sat there with all three of us looking at him, and I hoped we weren't 'ganging up' on him. He sat back and lifted his eyes again, staring directly at Jarod. "Yeah, mate," he said at last. "We're best friends aren't we? Of course I'm okay with it. I'm even glad you told me."

"Apart from Dave and Mike, and my mum," Jarod said softly, "you're the first person I've told."

Peter looked at him again, his eyes wide. "Wow!" he said. "Then I'm more than glad, I'm honoured," he said sincerely.

"Thanks!" said Jarod, his eyes moist. Peter and he embraced, hugging each other the way best friends do. After that silence descended for a while, as Dave and I sat watching the boys, and Jarod and Peter retreated into their own thoughts for a while. Both of the young men seemed to be wrestling with themselves inside, but I guessed that the time for words from us was now passed.

Surprisingly, it was Peter who broke the silence. "Mike," he said softly, do you mind if I ask how you and Dave met? You know, how you knew that you were right for each other?"

I looked at him in surprise, and Dave started to laugh. When Peter appeared confused, I reassured him. "No, I don't mind at all," I smiled. "Please ignore my rude husband! In fact, I'll let him tell you the story!"

Trying to keep his mirth under control, Dave detailed the whole tale of our lives, from being at school together, to meeting each other when we were involved with other people, the time when he moved to Melbourne, everything. He spared no detail, and both boys listened intently, even Jarod had not heard the full history of our courtship before. I let him go on as I quickly threw together a light meal and brought it to the table. Dave finished up with the story of our wedding day, and this time he included Jarod's mother's comment about suspecting that Jarod might be gay, even back then. All of us laughed, even Jarod, despite his reddening cheeks at hearing of his mother's suspicions so long ago.

We sat and ate dinner as four friends, and drank more wine. The boys were far from drunk, and I suspected that the alcohol was helping them speak openly, so I didn't discourage them. Dave and I laid our souls bare to them as they asked questions about our experiences, our feelings, the things that had happened to us. It wasn't exactly a sex education lesson, but some of the things they asked were quite personal. Still, we were determined to keep the discussion frank and open, so we tried our best to answer everything without blushing or holding back. And the two young men seemed to appreciate our honesty.

As we relaxed again, our hunger sated, Peter looked from myself to Dave and back again. He took a sip of wine, and addressed us both. "So, if you were on the school swimming team together, why didn't you get together then, instead of waiting for years and going through all the things you did?"

Jarod looked up quickly, and I suppressed a wry grin. "Because we were too scared to tell each other, or anyone else back then, that we were gay." I said quietly, looking at Dave, whose eyes were sparkling.

Peter went silent at that, his eyes falling to the table. He looked up at Jarod as if to speak, then stopped and examined the dirty plate in front of him again. Sensing that he needed some privacy, I stood and began collecting the dishes. "Hey, stud," I said to Dave, "give me a hand to clean up, okay?" Dave nodded understanding and grabbed the rest of the crockery, following me into the kitchen, as Jarod and Peter remained in their seats.

Dave and I busied ourselves at the counter, making as much noise as possible. Peter sat for a moment then looked up at Jarod, who was sitting with his own face down, seemingly concentrating on his shoelaces. "Jarod," he said in a near whisper.

Jarod looked up at him, wide eyed, his heart beating fast. "I, umm, oh god, I don't know how to say this, ..."

"Just say it, mate," encouraged Jarod. "After everything else that's been said tonight, nothing's gonna surprise me. We're friends, remember?"

Peter coughed, clearing his throat. "It's just, well, what Dave said, you know, about him and Mike not being game to tell each other how they felt at school ..."


"Well, I, umm, shit!" stammered Peter. Jarod leaned over to him, taking one of Peter's hands in his, and squeezing reassuringly. Peter took another breath, then blurted out quickly, as if he were worried he might not get through his sentence, "Hell, Jarod, that's how I feel about you! I dream about being with you, I want to be with you, but I've been too scared to tell you how I felt in case you got mad, or didn't want to have anything to do with me. I'm gay too, and I was wondering how you felt about me?"

Jarod didn't answer him with words. He grinned a huge smile, his chest almost bursting with happiness, and leaned forward and kissed Peter long and gently. I saw them from where Dave and I were, and nudged my man in the ribs. "Look!" I whispered, indicating the boys. Dave glanced at them and smiled.

We each took two mugs of coffee and headed for the deck, coughing to announce our arrival. Peter and Jarod separated quickly, both looking embarrassed, as I sat down pretending I hadn't noticed a thing. It was all too much for Dave. He began to laugh, his body shaking with mirth, until he clamed down enough to ask, "So, anything you two would like to share with us oldies?"

That got all of us laughing then, as the moment passed, tension disappearing and Peter and Jarod feeling comfortable again. Jarod announced proudly, "Peter and I are going steady!"

Peter grinned self-consciously yet again. "Congratulations!" I said.

Dave just beamed at our nephew and his new boyfriend. "Time for bed!" he declared with a wink. "Do you guys want me to get out the trundle?"

"Umm, no thanks," said Peter, the blood returning to his cheeks as he held Jarod's hand tightly.

"Then, goodnight guys!" I said. "And let me assure you, the walls are very thick!" I grinned widely at them both and took Dave's hand in mine as we began to lock up the house for the night. As Peter and Jarod disappeared into their room, I caught Jarod's eye, and whispered very quietly, "Just in case - there's lube in the nightstand." Now it was his turn to blush, but I pretended not to notice.

Dave made love to me that night with a vitality and an intensity we hadn't known for some time. As he came, filling me with his seed, I shook with delight and emptied myself over both of us. Lying there together, recovering as my cum squelched between us, I clenched my sphincter around his still hard shaft, buried within me. "I love you," I said with feeling.

"I love you too," he replied. "Do you think they'll be okay?"

"Well we can't shield them from the problems they'll face, but at least we've stopped them making our first mistake," I smiled to him. A tremendous sense of having done something really important descended on us as Dave started to move back and forward inside me again.

"Ready for another go?" he asked mischievously.

"I'm game if you are," I hissed back with a lust-filled laugh.

The End

Comments, complaints or compliments? Email me at [email protected]

This story is a fantasy, it is not real and only happened in my imagination. YOU MUST REMEMBER that in the real world, you can DIE from having unsafe sex. It is your right and your duty to make sure that condoms are always used, whether you are giving or receiving. It doesn't matter how good looking or how ugly he is, and it doesn't matter whether you are top or bottom, USE A CONDOM!