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Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Romance
Description: An Avondale Story Mitch Edwards has it made: at twenty-nine, he's just been named partner at a law firm and he's just bought his first house. But he has the feeling something is missing, and he's pretty sure he knows what it is. So when the woman he's been dating goes out of town for three weeks, he seizes the opportunity and summons the courage to visit a gay bar. He takes home Rion Murphy, and they hit it off so well that after a few weeks of exploration on Mitch's part, they decide to make the arrangement more permanent. But then Mitch's past catches up with him, and it's up to Rion to help him cope.
eBook Publisher: Dreamspinner Press/Dreamspinner Press, 2011 2011
eBookwise Release Date: January 2012
4 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [234 KB]
Reading time: 146-205 min.
* 1 *
It was seven thirty on a Tuesday morning, and I was fighting for my life. Sam, my best friend and current racquetball partner, and I were in a dead heat with our usual opponents, Rob and Will. We'd won the first game, they'd won the second, and this game would be the tiebreaker. Sam and I summoned a surge of energy from somewhere and made the crucial point. After shaking hands all around, the four of us went to the locker room. We had a standing reservation for an indoor court at the Y on Riverside Avenue every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday at the same time. If one of us was for any reason unable to participate, he was honor-bound to come up with a substitute, which had happened more than a few times during the three years we had been playing together.
As was our custom, we settled down in the steam room for a while before we showered and dressed for work. This particular branch of the Y was situated on the north bank of the St. Johns River only a few blocks from downtown Jacksonville, and a great many men and women brought their working attire to the Y so they could work out, shower, dress, and go straight to their respective jobs. The four of us were all lawyers, ranging in age from my thirty-two to Will's thirty-eight. We worked for different firms and were extremely competitive. I'd just made partner in the third-largest law firm in town and was still more than a bit overwhelmed at that success, which was largely due to a huge string of luck the year before. I'd won three gigantic settlements for my clients--and for the firm.
"Mitch, are you and Rosalie going out this weekend?" Sam said.
"No. I've sort of been tapering off from seeing her lately. In any case, she left town Sunday night and will be attending some sort of seminar on the West Coast for the next three or four weeks."
"That's a hell of a long seminar," Rob said.
"That's what they're calling it," I said, "but you're right--it's more like a crash course in her field."
"And what's the mouse going to do while the cat's away?" Will said with a sly smile on his face.
"This mouse, as you know, just moved into his new house--a classic fixer-upper in Riverside," I said. "I have a shitload of painting, patching, and minor repairs to take care of."
"That should keep you out of mischief," Sam said.
Showered and dressed (I'd shaved at home), I got in my ten-year-old SUV and headed downtown to deal with my extremely full appointment calendar.
After a long and very busy day, I was glad to strip down to a pair of gym shorts when I got home. I'd picked up a sandwich and a Coke in nearby Five Points and immediately got busy painting my living room between bites of food. I was really proud of my first house, and it had been a steal. The house contained a large master suite, two smaller bedrooms with a connecting bath between them, separate living and dining rooms, and an eat-in kitchen. There was also a screened-in front porch, an open back porch, and, perhaps best of all, a two-car garage complete with an upstairs apartment. I'd made a huge down payment to the cash-strapped owners, and they were carrying the mortgage. The rent from the apartment was just enough to cover the payments, but not the taxes and insurance.
I reached a good stopping point a little after ten, cleaned up my paint roller, and headed for the bedroom I was using. The master bedroom was empty, and I was using a guest room, my game plan being to paint the master bedroom before I occupied it. I padded naked from the bedroom to the bathroom and got into the shower. Afterward, I toweled myself dry, watching myself in the steamed-up mirror as I did. I wiped away the steam and looked at my image.
"I'm tired," I said.
"You should be," my image replied. "You've had a long, hard day."
"Yeah. It was a good day, though, and I got a lot done."
"Then why aren't you happy?"
"Not even close--this is me you're talking to."
"Of course I'm happy. I'm on top of the world."
"Bovine excreta. You only appear to be happy on the outside, but there's an underlying sadness. Something's missing from your life, and you know damn well what it is."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Don't be disingenuous. We're talking about your sexuality."
"Yes, that. It's time you openly admitted to yourself that you wonder about such things."
"That's a load of crap."
"Oh, yeah? Then why do you have a hidden stash of gay magazines and porn?"
"That's for research."
"That's a rather quaint euphemism for jerking off while looking at pictures of naked men having sex, but I don't think you'll find it in any dictionary."
"Okay, I give up. I think I might be gay."
"Oh, puh-leeze. 'Might be?' Face it, Mitch--you're gay and you know it. All that remains is for you to prove it to yourself by actually doing the deed."
"What will people think?"
"Excuse me, but unless you're planning to have sex at high noon on the courthouse steps, or hire the town crier to announce the fact, 'people'--as you put it--won't know anything."
"Yeah, I guess."
"Listen to me, my boy. Your current, and somewhat unsatisfactory, source of sexual relief will be out of town for quite a while. What better opportunity for you to try your wings?"
"I wouldn't know how to go about it."
"More bovine excreta. If that's true, why have you not only looked up but driven by every gay bar in town at least once?"
"You've got me there."
"Damn straight. It's time for less talk and more action."
I checked the doors, set the alarm system, and crawled in bed.
The week dragged on, and I worked on the living and dining rooms virtually every evening, followed by a struggle with my "man in the mirror."
Friday evening arrived, and I was once again standing in front of my bathroom mirror having an argument with my reflection, only this time I was fighting a losing battle. During a momentary lull in the back-and-forth, I picked up my glass of vodka and tonic, took a healthy sip, and then set the glass carefully back on the counter.
"I'm not ready for this," I said.
"Sure you are," the image in the mirror replied. "You've been curious ever since you started jacking off, and you've been 'ready' most of your adult life."
"It's not fair to Rosalie."
"The Rosalie I've been having sex with for the past several months--you know damn well who."
"Oh, that Rosalie--so what?"
"She's probably in love with me."
"No, it isn't. Are you in love with her?"
"Now that you mention it, no."
"Have you made any promises to her of any kind?"
"No, but she's made a lot of assumptions."
"That's her problem."
"She's gonna be out of town for two more weeks."
"What difference does that make? You don't have to ask her permission."
"I'd be sneaking around behind her back."
"That's a load of crap and you know it."
"Yeah, I guess."
"So what's the problem--what better time to do this? You'll notice that I refrained from pointing out that you just bought and moved into your first house--a tiny detail about you that she doesn't know a thing about."
"I was gonna tell her when she gets back."
"Sure you were."
I retrieved the glass, took another slug, replaced it, and said, "I'm scared."
"Oh, puh-leeze. You? Scared? Number one in your graduating class at law school... law review and all the usual overachiever shit... scared? Just made partner in the third-largest law firm in town at the young age of twenty-nine... scared? As you are well aware, that's another massive load of bovine excreta."
"I could strike out tonight."
"More bovine excreta. Look at yourself--six feet of muscle, blond hair, blue eyes, good-looking (some might even say gorgeous), and a smile that melts hearts."
"Now who's dumping the bovine excreta?"
"False modesty doesn't become you; you've always turned heads--you know that."
"This is different."
"Damn straight it is, this is about how you want to live the rest of your life."
"I don't know."
"Mitch, my boy, you can do this. Correction, you have to do this. You're on the cusp of the rest of your life, and you need to either lock yourself in a deep dark closet, or set your doubts to rest by liberating them and yourself."
I picked up the glass, upended it, and swallowed the last of the vodka. "Yeah, I guess I'd better do it."
"Yeah, but don't even think about driving--not after three vodka tonics."
"Then how will I get there?"
"Geez. Do I have to tell you everything? Call a taxi. Walk to the corner and catch a bus. Hell, it's only eight or nine blocks, and it's a cool evening--you could walk the distance."
I took one last look at myself in the mirror, wondering if others would see all of my warts--real and imaginary--as plainly as I could. Oh hell, the mirror is right--only one way to find out
I headed toward the front door but decided to detour into another room, recalling that I'd noticed a couple of leftover bus passes when I'd organized my desk in its new location. I'd used the bus for almost a month last year while my car was in the shop for some major bodywork after a drunken fool without insurance had run a red light and slammed into it. For some reason, my insurance hadn't provided a rental car, and I was too cheap to rent one myself. I found the passes, pocketed them, and left the house.
My timing couldn't have been better--I arrived at the nearest bus stop a few minutes in advance of the next bus. It didn't matter which bus I took. All of the inbound buses passed within a couple of blocks of my ultimate goal, so I could safely board the first one I saw. I exited the bus at a stop in front of the Blue Cross Tower and walked two blocks to the bar.
I squared my shoulders, braced myself, and walked through the wide-open outer doors. The minute I pushed my way through the inner doors, loud music washed across me. Just like a straight pick-up bar, only louder, I thought. Not knowing whether there was table service or not, I walked up to the bar, purchased a Coke, and carried it over to the nearest empty table, where I settled down to watch and wait--for what, I wasn't at all certain.
My gaze wandered slowly around the room, taking in all there was to see. I hoped I wasn't being too obvious. The tiny dance floor was occupied by a few couples who were gyrating to something rhythmic and obnoxiously loud. A few of the tables were occupied, mostly by two or more people, and there were a few guys sitting on stools at the bar. Two of them were turned away from the bar, obviously watching the dancers. One guy was staring at the reflections in the mirror behind the bar. He had a head of curly black hair, a strong, good-looking face, and a square jaw. He saw me looking at him and winked, and we locked eyes for a moment. He summoned the bartender, said something to him, and a couple of minutes later, he left the bar and walked over to my table carrying two glasses. He was fairly tall, and the muscle tee he was wearing revealed the torso of a body-builder.
"Buy you a drink?" he said, setting a glass in front of me.
I took a tentative sip--it was Coke.
"How did you know what I was drinking?"
"A good bartender always remembers what he's served and to whom--especially when it was served to the best-looking man in the room."
Ignoring the flattery, I extended a hand and said, "Mitch Edwards."
"Rion Murphy." My hand was gripped by steel lined with velvet.
We exchanged a bit of personal information and chatted about nothing in particular for a while until he said, "Let's dance."
He took me by the hand and led me to the dance floor, where we joined the other couples. The music instantly changed to a slow number, which prompted him to take me in his arms. I responded by trying to lead.
"You've never followed, have you?"
"Sorry," I said.
"That's okay. I'm versatile."
We finished the number with me following. It was so different dancing with a man. Where I was accustomed to pressing against soft flesh, I found myself moving against a hard and firm body. It was nice, and I found myself liking it. My dick really liked it, because it became as hard as a rock, and I could feel an obvious bulge in Rion's pants as well.
The music stopped for a minute and then a fast number began.
Rion said, his lips pressed against my ear to make himself heard above the music, "So, Mitch, do you always come to a bar just to drink the real thing?"
"Hardly," I said. "I had a couple of drinks at home working up the nerve to come here. When I got here I decided it was time to taper off."
"First visit to a gay bar, right?"
"You had a couple of drinks thinking you might not like it?"
"Maybe I was afraid that I would like it."
"You've never been with a guy before?"
"Oh, yeah. A steady stream all through college, law school, and since."
"Something's missing, and I've done enough reading and research to have a pretty fair idea what it is."
"What kind of reading and research?"
"What kind do you think? Gay stories. Gay porn. Jerk-off material."
"Scares the shit out of you, doesn't it?"
"You could say that."
"Ready to find out if it's real?"
"Now or never," I said.
We walked to the bar entrance and headed to the parking lot, and he said, "Where's your car?"
"Home in my garage. I don't need to deal with a DUI on top of everything else."
"Not a problem. I'm right over here."
He led me to a fairly new BMW sedan, and I said, "The real-estate business must be doing well." He'd told me what he did for a living.
"Not as well as you might think. Things are kind of slow right now--this baby is five years old."
"Could have fooled me."
In the car, he said, "My place or yours?"
"Since you're taking me home, why not mine?" I gave him the address.
"That's one of the up-and-coming areas of Riverside."
"Yeah. I got a bargain on a fixer-upper and I have a lot of work to do." As we approached my house, I said, "Why don't you drive around back to park?"
"Can't park in the driveway because of the tenant, right?"
He pulled the Bimmer up to the back of the house, careful to leave enough room for my tenant to back into and out of the garage, and we exited the car.
It's now or never, I thought as I led him to the back door. I was doing my best not to appear as nervous as a sixteen-year-old virgin, but I wasn't at all certain that I was succeeding.
* * * *
* 2 *
When we were inside the house, I led him straight to the bedroom, where he put his arms around me and we began to kiss. Kissing a man felt kind of strange at first, but I found myself getting into it. By the time he broke the embrace, I was as hard as the proverbial rock--in fact, the erection that had begun on the dance floor had never totally receded.
"Ready for step two?" he said.
He began to undress and I followed suit, matching him garment for garment. He had a great body, with nicely defined pecs and abs. His chest was totally smooth, as was the rest of him, and I found the absence of body hair at once fascinating and exciting. He had no visible tan lines, and his erection looked huge. He pulled me against him again, and we kissed while our hands explored. Eventually we wound up on the bed face to erection, and I went straight to work on his dick without hesitation. When it happened, and it didn't take long, my orgasm was so intense that I barely registered the sensation of swallowing a man's ejaculate for the first time. After we had sucked each other dry, he moved around so that we were belly to belly.
"Well?" he said after he broke the kiss.
"Need you ask? All I can think of is that I've wasted a lot of years."
"Better late than never."
"For what it's worth, you're a natural. Are you absolutely certain you've never sucked a dick before?"
"Only in my dreams." I was running the tips of my fingers over his smooth crotch. "Tell me about this?"
"Not a lot to tell. I'm a nudist, and a lot of nudists go smooth. It's the only way to get a proper allover tan."
"I didn't know there was anyplace to do that around here."
"There isn't, but there are a couple of clothing-optional places for men to go down in central Florida."
"Oh, yeah. That being said, they serve mostly an older crowd. One of them has a clothing-optional pool, and the other place is totally clothing-optional."
"I'll have to check it out some time. Right now I'd rather check this out." My fingers had found their way under his balls and were approaching his anus.
"Go ahead." He spread his legs a bit and bent his knees, giving me access.
"My fingers are kind of dry." I groped in the nightstand and located a tube of KY.
"You must have been a Boy Scout."
"Yeah. Be prepared--that's me."
My index finger, now nicely lubed, worked its way into his inner regions, and I felt him wince, so I said, "Hurt?"
"Don't worry about it," he said. "Body heat will take care of it."
"Yeah, I guess it will."
My exploring finger located its target and exerted a bit of pressure. His erection twitched, and he said, "Are you sure you haven't done this before?"
"As I said, I've done a lot of research. Plus, I've practiced on myself a bit."
"I'm impressed. My fingers aren't quite long enough to reach my prostate--I've certainly tried often enough."
"Here comes a second finger," I said. I studied his face for any hint of discomfort.
"I don't usually need a third finger," he said. "I'm ready for the main event anytime you are."
I located a condom and quickly rolled it in place on my erection. Then I put some more KY on my fingers and lubed both of us thoroughly. Kneeling between his spread legs, I pulled them up until they were against my chest. Using one hand, I guided my erection to its target and began to push gently. To my surprise, it popped right in.
"You weren't kidding," I said.
"Yeah. Now shut up and show me you know what to do with that thing, big guy."
I did as instructed and kept pushing until my crotch hit his butt. I'd never felt anything so tight, and I began to piston in and out until I began to spasm. As I bent down to kiss him, I looked at his erection and noted that he was leaking a bit. Finally, I eased my softening member out of him and lowered his legs to the bed. I rolled over onto my back beside him and caressed his erection.
"Ready when you are," I said.
"Are you sure?"
He wasted no time, and I soon felt first one, then two, and finally three fingers exploring my body. The fingers withdrew, and I said, "Don't stop."
"Got to slip on a raincoat."
The fingers were followed by the pressure of his erection. The head of his dick felt huge, but it finally pushed through my ring. Despite my efforts to control my reaction, my eyes widened at the intrusion.
"Are you okay?" he said.
"Took me by surprise. You're huge."
"I've seen--and had--bigger."
"Yeah, but I haven't."
"Don't be. I'm okay now. Have at it."
I felt him pushing slowly in until he could push no further, and he said, "Are you all right?" His face revealed some anxiety.
"Just savoring the sensation. It's amazing."
"Okay," he said, "here we go--you've got me so turned on it won't take long."
He was right. After a few hard and deep thrusts, he arched his back and groaned. Then he bent down and kissed me.
"That was amazing," I said.
"We're both kind of sticky. Want to take a shower?"
"The master bathroom is this way."
I led him to the master bedroom, pointed to the door leading to the attached bathroom, and said, "Master bath is through there."
"I thought the bedroom we were in looked kind of small for a master bedroom," he said.
"It's the largest guest bedroom. I'm going to paint the master bedroom before I occupy it. In fact, that's what I plan to spend Saturday and Sunday doing."
We entered the master bath, and he looked around. "It's unusual to find a stall shower in a house this age."
"Yeah, but it's not original. Based on the fixtures, my Realtor guessed the bath was renovated in the fifties or sixties."
We entered the shower and began to lather each other's bodies, which of course led to a certain amount of playfulness. When we were clean and dry, we went back to the bed.
"Looks like we're both ready for a replay," I said.
"I've got time for a quickie."
"You can't spend the night?"
"Sorry, no. I've got to show a house out at the beach first thing tomorrow morning."
I pulled him down onto the bed, and we began to work on each other's erections. When we'd finished and were once again belly to belly, I said, "I have an appointment to play racquetball at seven in the morning, so I can promise you'll be out the door by six thirty if you stay."
"You talked me into it."
We lay in the dark for a long time, cuddling and talking. "This house has a lot of potential," he said. "Many garage apartments in the area have been razed, so that's a plus."
"Yeah. The house came with a tenant already in place, and the rental income carries the mortgage."
"Mind if I ask what you paid for the house?"
"Not at all." I told him.
"You got a bargain."
"Yeah. The sellers were highly motivated, and I waved a lot of cash in their faces, so they did a wrap-around."
"Yeah. I've never been what you'd call a big spender, so I've managed to set aside all of my bonuses on top of everything else."
"No school loans to worry about?"
"Nope--full scholarships all the way through."
"Good for you. Do you like being a lawyer?"
"I like it fine, but I'm not particularly happy doing what I'm doing right now."
"We're essentially a firm of ambulance chasers. You know, personal-injury stuff and some criminal law. Even though I've made partner, my goal is to strike out on my own in a few years so I can practice the kind of law I want to."
"Probate, real estate, and particularly estate planning and elder law. Not as much money there, but a lot more satisfaction."
"Let me set the alarm. Then we need to get to sleep."
"No argument there."
My eyes opened, as they always do, a few minutes in advance of the alarm. Since I was spooned up against Rion, I carefully reached one arm across him to turn off the alarm. My morning wood was pressed against his ass, which gave me an idea. Somehow I managed to retrieve a condom and put it in place without disturbing him. My exploring finger determined that he was still well lubed from the night before, so I carefully guided my erection home. Reaching around him, I began to stroke his erection while I plumbed his depths, and he slowly came awake under my double ministrations.
"Hmmm. This is a nice wake-up call," he said.
"I promised to get you up early--no pun intended."
"So you did and so you have."
It took me a long couple of minutes, but I managed to move around between his legs without totally breaking contact. Once I had his legs in the air, I began to pound his ass. Then I bent down and discovered that I could get his erection about halfway into my mouth while I fucked him.
When it was over, he said, "Now that was a wake-up call."
"I woke up with your ass literally in my lap, so I couldn't resist."
I went to the guest bathroom and took care of business while he used the master bath. Later, as we were dressing, I said, "Coffee?"
"Thanks, but I'll grab some on the way home to shower and change."
I walked to the door with him, and we kissed again. "I'd like to see you again," I said.
"Me too, but not for a couple of weeks."
"You need some experience. I've seen a lot of guys get fixated on the first man they sleep with. Go out and get laid tonight, and tomorrow night, and repeat the process next weekend."
"Some friends of mine are going to be at that gay clothing-optional place two weeks from now, and their travel trailer sleeps four. They've invited me down for the weekend and said I could bring a friend. Want to go?"
"Then I'll see you two weeks from last night, and we'll be talking in the meantime, I'm sure."
"A word of advice?"
"You were entirely too forthcoming last night when we exchanged personal information. Whether you're out to get laid or just have a good time, you need to be very wary of people in bars. For example, I never tell anyone where I work until I've known them for quite a while."
"You told me."
"Yeah, but you didn't set off any warning bells, and I sensed that I could trust you. Believe me when I tell you this--there are a few chronically unhappy gay men out there who delight in causing problems for other people. I could tell you lots of horror stories."
"Okay, I promise I'll be careful."
"Good. Talk to you soon."
While I stood in front of the mirror shaving, I reflected on the previous twelve hours. My reflection looked back at me.
"Had fun, didn't you," it said.
"You know I did."
"And you're gonna do it again tonight."
"What about Rosalie?"
"That was my line last night. Easy to say, not so easy to do. You don't want a vindictive bitch riding your ass, so you'd best have a plan to let her down easy."
"Telling her you've moved would be a good start."
"Yeah. If she doesn't call you today, you'd better call her."
"Don't be such a wuss--you found the courage to go to that bar last night, you found the courage to put a dick in your mouth for the first time in your life, and you can find the courage to face a woman you don't wish to see anymore."
I wiped the last of the shaving cream off of my face, grabbed my gym bag, and headed to the car--I was already wearing workout attire.