The dreams were worse, and even more troubling as he kept thinking about sex with men. Everywhere he went he would see some guy he found attractive, evocative, intriguing. It had been weeks since he was able to have sex with Elizabeth, and she was beginning to sense something was wrong, that it wasn't just stress at work, or not feeling well. She had begun to push for a weekend get a way, time for just the two of them. Connor wondered if that would do it, just go somewhere, the two of them, alone, away from work, away from the city, away from all the men. At work he kept finding himself staring at Jerry across from him. Jerry was attractive, average build, brown hair styled in a trendy manner, and a friendly personality. Connor would find himself daydreaming of what he looked like naked, or of catching Jerry in the men's room and seeing what he held in his hand. It embarrassed him when he realized what he was doing, and it made him feel awkward around Jerry.
There was the waiter at Elizabeth's favorite restaurant, the little place on the corner from the apartment. The guy was tall, jet black hair, with a lean body. He moved gracefully, no matter how many dishes he was carrying. Jorge was his name which was so appropriate with his strong Spanish accent. Connor caught himself staring at Jorge so often he was afraid Elizabeth was aware of it. But Jorge was so attractive, masculine, and time and time again Connor would find himself wondering what Jorge looked like naked and if he had an uncut dick. Wondering what he'd be like in bed.
There were the bike messengers, the construction workers over on 22nd and Main, the police officer who was directing traffic, and the guy sitting close to him now. Connor had left work early, having Jerry catch him time and time again staring at him, until he said he wasn't feeling well and left. Connor didn't want to go home, sit in an empty apartment and look at all the reminders of his life with Elizabeth. Instead he had gone in the opposite direction when he left work and ended up in area of town he didn't frequent very often. He had wandered the streets for a while until he came to a small coffee shop, tucked up between two stores, its small sign painted on the storefront glass, and two bistro tables sitting on the sidewalk with two chairs each were all that announced it to the outside world. Inside, the narrow space was cozy, with one wall having bookcases filled with old books and art hung in between. Old sofas, chairs, and a couple tables sat along this wall, all of which were occupied. The opposite wall was the serving counter, where Connor moved and ordered a simple coffee. As he was waiting he was looking around, trying to see where he could sit. He also was checking out the patrons that were men. The guy using a lap top wearing a v-neck sweater and white t-shirt, dark framed glasses, with dark wavy brown hair, slightly long in length became the focus of his attention. He stared, lost in thought of what it would be like to go over and say something to the guy, to connect with him, to leave and go back to his place, until the woman behind the counter broke his train of thought, holding out his order. He stood for a second, trying to decide where to sit when the woman leaned over the counter.
"We have a sitting room in back if you're looking for a place to sit."
"Thanks" Connor replied as he turned looking through the narrow hall at the rear of the space that appeared to be a dead end. It had the toilets on one side and the support spaces for the serving area on the other, but as soon as he got into the hall he saw it wasn't a dead end but turned a corner and an opening revealed a much larger sitting room. From the open structure hung old windows, large curtains and doors, dividing the space into smaller areas each with a different feel and furniture arrangement. Connor moved through a couple of the areas amazed the little shop had such a nice space in back, so much larger than anticipated. He made his way to the side of the space and sat on a sofa against the wall, realizing he did it to people watch. As he sipped his coffee and looked around the room his phone began to ring. It was Elizabeth. He silenced it, thinking she would assume he was at work and unable to answer.
As he sat there he looked around checking out the guys he could see from his vantage point. He watched as person after person came in, admiring several of the guys who arrived. Connor caught himself staring, wondering, having thoughts. One guy smiled back, but Connor being embarrassed at being caught looked away quickly, picking up a section of the newspaper lying close by. He was nearly complete with his coffee when he noticed a guy come in carrying a coffee and a novel. He was wearing black jeans and a white v-neck t-shirt that hung loosely on his tall lean body. He had dirty blonde hair, stylishly cut. He had on trendy glasses that gave him a casual, academic look. Connor noticed several others give him a second look, including a couple of other guys. When he walked in Connor's direction, Connor, afraid of being caught staring went back to the newspaper he had in his hands. Suddenly there was the shadow of someone standing in front of him.
"Excuse me, but would you mind if I sat on the other end of this sofa?"
Connor looked up at the guy standing in front of him, with a friendly smile, gesturing with his head toward the open end of the sofa.
"No, please, go ahead and have a seat."
For several minutes Connor sat glancing over at him, watching him read his novel. It made Connor feel anxious to have him so close. When he went to take another drink he found his cup empty. He didn't want to leave, not now.
"Excuse me, but I'm in need of a refill and don't want to lose my seat; would you mind..." and the guy interrupted him.
"No, no, by all means. I don't mind keeping your place."
"I appreciate it..." and he hesitated, then took a chance. "Can I get you something while I'm up?"
The guy looked at him, smiling mischievously, knowing Connor was trying to flirt.
"No I'm fine, but...you can tell me your name."
"My name? Oh, I'm Connor."
"Connor. I'm Winston."
"Winston, it's nice to meet you. Thanks for watching my place; I'll be right back."
Connor was freaked out, excited, anxious as he went to get a refill. He knew he should leave, that nothing could happen, knew it had to be getting late. He got his order and went over to a book case and quickly browsed the shelves. A book of photographs taken in the fifties of the city caught his eye. He made his way back to his seat, where Winston was reading his novel. Connor sat and began to look through the book and was actually able to focus, finding several shots interesting. He looked at photographs of the commercial district with cars parked all along the sidewalks, old office buildings, hotels, and residences, several of which have since been torn down. He was looking at one old office building with a unique front and remembering it still existed near his office.
"I live in that building" Winston stated to him, catching Connor off guard.
"Really, you live in this one, for I know it. Where I work is close to it. But it says it is an office building."
"It was, but now it is apartments; it is a great old building, but the summers can be a little hot."
"Well, most of these old buildings do have a few problems."
Connor found himself in conversation with Winston. Casual, friendly, they conversed for a long time, talking about the old buildings that still existed in the area, where they worked and about themselves. Connor told Winston where he was from, where he went to college and a lot of other things, trivial things, but not one word about Elizabeth. They both found their drinks completed and a for a moment, an odd silence existed between them. Connor wondered how to keep talking, how to prolong this encounter for he didn't want it to end, not now when he was having so much fun just talking with Winston. But he knew he should let the afternoon end. He knew he should go home, back to the life he had prepared for himself, the one everyone expected of him.
"Connor, I didn't realize how late it has gotten. I'm famished; would you like to go grab dinner somewhere? I know a couple of great little places nearby...or we could go to my place and throw something together?"
"Dinner? Well, I should be going; I mean...what time is it anyway?"
"It's almost seven."
"Wow, I didn't realize it was so late. But..."and he hesitate, wondering what he should do, what he wanted to do. He looked over at Winston, at the way he was smiling, waiting for him to answer, they way his five o'clock shadow was coming in more brown than his hair, which was so messed up from him running his hand through it, but still looked so good, he looked at the high cheek bones, the strong line of his jaw, and the dimples in his cheeks as he smiled.
"Yeah, let's grab dinner...your place sounds good if it is really no trouble."
"My place it is. Let's get out of here."
On the sidewalk walking to Winston's place, the sun had moved low enough to cast all the streets in shadow. It wouldn't be completely dark until around nine but the shadows cast by the buildings brought the street lamps on making the light soft, the shadows dark. Winston's apartment building looked exactly like the photograph. Only the trees in the sidewalk openings were a give a way of a lot of time having passed. Winston lived on the top floor and soon they were entering his apartment. It was a cozy apartment with a small living dining room, a little galley kitchen off to one side and on the other, through French doors, the bedroom. The bed sat directly through the door opening, only a few feet away. It was a large old iron frame bed with white comforter, white blanket and white pillows. Connor was staring at it when Winston spoke to him from the kitchen.
"You like fish?"
"Fish? Yeah, I like fish."
"Great; I bought some this morning on a whim. I'll throw together a salad while it cooks and we'll be able to eat soon. "
Winston had their meal prepared and on the table in a short time. They sat opposite each other as they ate and talked. Connor kept looking at Winston, looking at his easy manner, his smile with the dimples, the way his eyes (they were blue) kept a strong focus on him when he was talking. Time seemed non-existent, as he was in the moment, listening to Winston talk, with his smoky voice and the accent that occasionally crept into it. Something New England he thought. After dinner Winston told Connor to sit down and relax while he just put the dishes in the sink. While Winston cleared the table, Connor moved to the large window that made the small living area seem so open. He watched the people walking by on their way out for the night, or coming in from a long day. He watched the cars go by, and they way one window after the next would light up in the buildings across the street. The overhead light shut off leaving only a lamp on, allowing the view out the window to become more vibrant. As he stood there he sensed Winston's approach, but he didn't turn.
"Do you have to be anywhere soon?" Winston asked as he approached Connor.
"No" Connor replied, barely audible.
"Good" Winston said as he came up behind Connor, putting his arms around his waist. Winston nuzzled his face up to Connor's neck, ran his nose and mouth over Connor's ear and through his hair. Connor leaned back into him, letting himself do what he always wanted, always dreamed. Winston took Connor's chin and turned his head so he could kiss him, lightly, gently on the lips. Connor responded, almost desperate, hungrily, turning in Winston's arms to face him, to bring their bodies together, to be able to kiss, passionately. Winston ran his hands down Connor's back, over his ass, pulling them tightly together.
"Let's go to the bedroom" Winston whispered in Connor's ear.
By the bed, Winston stopped Connor from undressing himself, telling him he'd do it. Slowly, carefully, Winston removed each garment Connor was wearing, laying it over a chair against the wall. He removed his shirt, his belt, his shoes and socks, one at a time, and while on his knees, he pulled down Connor's pants, helping Connor pull his legs free. Connor's boxers were starting to tent out, his cock flexed up, starting to get erect. Winston ran his hand over it, squeezed it, making it harden up; he rubbed it through the fabric. Winston then slid them down, getting Connor to step out of them. Winston looked up at Connor who had a glazed look to his eyes, a look lost to this moment. Winston stood up and pulled Connor's naked body to him, held him tight, felt his warmth, his hardening cock, as he kissed him, as he ran his hands down Connor's back and ass, feeling the smoothness of his skin. Connor loved the feel of Winston against him, even clothed, but he knew what he needed to do. Connor then began to undress Winston, and as Winston had done, he took each garment off carefully, laying each over his own clothes. When he was on his knees helping Winston remove his pants, he couldn't help but look at the bulge in Winston's boxers, the way his cock pushed out, tenting them. When the pants were removed and safely laid to the side, he reached up, and for the first time, felt another man's erection. Felt it through the fabric flex in his hand. He moved his face into the fabric and smelled the scent of Winston, his masculine smell, and he felt Winston's cock move upward as it slid along his face under the fabric. The head pushed up over the waist band and Connor leaned up and kissed it, a simple kiss with the lips, then he took the waist band in his hand and carefully lowered the boxers the floor, getting Winston to step out of them. Connor laid the boxers on top of the pants and turned back to Winston, looking at his cock, they way its skin was darker than the rest of him, they way his pubic hair spread over the top, the way his balls hung loose, and they way the head of his cock drooled out pre-cum, just a small drop at first, and Connor instinctively moved to it, putting out his tongue and licked it off. The taste was exotic to him, slightly sweet, forbidden. He moved forward and put his lips to the head and then allowed it to slide into his mouth, move over his tongue and push back toward his throat. He loved the feel of it in his mouth, the smoothness of the skin over the hard shaft, the feel of it sliding over his tongue as he moved his head back and forth. He worked himself on Winston's cock, moved along its length, made it wet, slick, hot. He pulled tight to Winston, feeling his legs against him, and the way his own cock slid along the side of Winston's hairy calves, exciting him more.
Winston pushed his head back slowly, letting his cock slip free, bobbing in the air, wet, glistening in the dim light of the room. Winston pulled Connor up and then pushed him on the bed, gently, laying him down and sliding in beside him, running his hand over Connor's chest, downward, over his stomach to his cock. He strokes it slowly as he leaned over, nuzzling his face into Connor's neck, nibbling on his ear, running his nose through his hair, loving the smell of him. He moved over on top of Connor, his tall lean body covering Connor's, as Connor ran his hands down the curve of Winston's back and over the curve of his ass. He holds each cheek and pulls him tight against his own body, feeling warm flesh against warm flesh, cock against cock. Their loving making is slow, gentle. Winston senses Connor is not one to rush, to push too quickly, for he seems timid at times, unsure of himself.
Connor has no sense of time, of place, just this present sensation, letting the feel of it take him along. At times he wants to go faster, to push Winston to go further, but then he's unsure, afraid almost of what it would mean to continue, what it'd be like to actually go further, to let Winston penetrate him, to push his cock into him. But he also knows it is what he wants, to feel Winston inside of him, to penetrate him with his cock, to fuck him.
Connor spreads his legs out, wrapping them around Winston's waist, as he shifts his body, moves it against Winston, an urgency building within him. He leans his head back, stretches out his back, arches up against Winston, feeling his mouth, his tongue, even his teeth on his skin, moving over his neck, around one ear then the other. Winston takes his head and kisses him roughly, passionately, tongue shoved deep into his mouth. When Winston pulls back he looks at Connor, his skin flushed, slightly wet with sweat, his hair all messed up.
"I want to fuck you" Winston says to him, softly, barely breaking the quiet of the room. Connor pulls Winston to him, grabs his ass and grinds his cock into Winston's cock.
"Yes...put it in me...but...easy..." Connor was stammering as he made out with Winston. Winston rose up, took his cock and ran it up and down Connor, letting him feel its hardness, letting it smear its wetness over him. Whenever he ran over Connor's opening, he felt Connor push up, eager, ready. Winston finally put the head of his cock to Connor's opening and penetrated him, slowly, pushing in fractions of an inch, and then pulling back. He pushed in further each time, pulling out slightly, stretching Connor's opening, preparing him. Winston kept working his hips, pushing more and more cock into Connor until he was finally all the way in, his cock speared into Connor as far as it could go. Winston held still a moment, feeling his cock gripped at the ring of Connor's opening, feeling the shaft buried in his warmth. Connor was tense under him, his skin tight, his muscle knotted.
"Oh fuck..." Connor moaned.
Winston began to move his cock, pull back a little, push back in, working it through Connor's tightness, feeling him slowly loosen up, take him. He worked to an ancient rhythm, his hips moving in an arc, pushing and pulling his cock through Connor. He held him tight, wrapped up in his arms, feeling the tension leave his body, feeling him respond, to push up when he pushed downward, spearing his cock into Connor's depths. Winston rose up over Connor, looked down on him, his skin glistening from sweat where their hot bodies had been together, working in rhythm, interlocked, and he shifted slightly, got a better angle as he took Connor's hands and pulled them over his head, holding him down. Stretched out, skin tight, Connor was lost in the sensation, one he had only dreamed, one he didn't truly understand until now. He submitted to Winston, took his fuck, worked with his thrusts, as he felt the penetration deep within himself, the fullness of it. Winston's pace quickened, his hips arcing harder, faster, slapping up against Connor. It made Connor's heart race to feel the surge, the quickening pace.
"Fuck...harder..." he stammered as he arched his back up, pushing down with his hips, meeting the downward thrusts of Winston. Sweat began to drip on to him, coming from Winston's hair. His body shinned in the dim light, and Connor could feel the heat of him, as Winston thrust himself into his body. Winston's rhythm got ragged, rough, as he pushed in harder as if he was trying to shove his whole body into Connor. He plowed through Connor's insides, pushing his cock as far as it would go.
"Shit...I'm going to..." and his slammed down hard, shoving into Connor, pushing his cock into him as he came. He jerked back and shoved in as he shot again, and then he gave short stabs, pumping his load into Connor, pushing it into him, smearing his thrusting cock through it, feeling the heat of his exertion finally overtake him. Winston fell slowly down on Connor, his mouth coming to Connor's mouth, their lips meeting, parted, tongues dueling as their hot heaving bodies rested against each other. They lay still for a few minutes, their breathing slowing. Connor was still hard, but was satisfied to just lie there, to feel Winston against him. His taking Winston, taking his fuck was enough for now he thought, but soon Winston got up and moved down, running his tongue over his skin, over his neck, down his chest, nibbling each nipple, biting them, tugging them slightly, making Connor push up, the sensation like none he'd ever experienced before, the way he felt the pain hit his brain, the pleasure of it hit his cock. Winston moved further down, running his tongue into Connor's navel, licking out the pool of pre-cum and sweat that had collected there before moving down further. He lifted Connor's cock up, felt its hardness, the thickness of its erect state, gripped it tightly and squeezed it, feeling it flex in his hand. He moved down, sliding his mouth over the head. Connor gasped as Winston's warm slick mouth moved down over his cock. He moved his head slowly down, up, down, up, over and over, feeling the shaft slide through his mouth, over his tongue.
Connor pushed up, pumping his cock through Winston's hand and into his mouth. The sensitive head raking over Winston's tongue, sliding against his teeth, pushing into his throat made him feel it down his spine and in the tightness of his muscles. He wanted to cum, wanted to pump his load out, but Winston stopped and pulled up. The cooler air hit his cock, taking the heat from it, the need to cum. Winston shifted up and over his hips, took his cock in hand, and rubbed his ass back and forth over the wet slick head, feeling it slide over his opening, stroking his need, his desire to be penetrated. Slowly he dropped down, feeling the head penetrate him, push up into his depths. He loved the feel of it, the way Connor's cock breached him, speared him, slide through his insides, hot, wet, slick. Winston moved down all the way and then back up, over and over he moved, pumping his hole over Connor, feeling the stretch, the tightness. Connor pumped his hips with Winston's movements, meeting him in a hard slap, slamming his cock all the way in. Their rhythm was rough, breathing hard, their body heat rising. Connor sat up, wrapped his arms around Winston. He was urgent, insistent, as he rolled Winston over on his back, pushing his legs up as he pushed back into him. Pushing hard cock all the way into Winston, lost in the feel of it, the grip around his cock as it slid through Winston's opening. He quickly hit a frenzied pace, slamming his cock in and jerking it out, hammering Winston, trying to shove himself into Winston as hard and as far into him as he could. His pace was too much, too hard, and he quickly degenerated into a fucking machine, lost in his lust, his need to pump himself empty. He cums, hard, shooting deep into Winston, then pulls back and slams the second ejaculation into him, then grinds his cock through Winston's stretched out hole, slick with his cum, as he falls down on Winston. Their breathing is ragged; the sweat between them soon cools on their skin, sucking the heat from them.
After a few minutes, Winston turns Connor to him and kisses him lightly on the lips.
"That was very nice" he tells Connor in his understated manner. Connor smiles back and snuggles up to him. Winston leans up and pulls the cover back over them and settles down next to Connor. Soon an exhausted sleep takes them.
The sun breaks through the blinds and wakes Connor. He opens his eyes and for a moment is confused, almost panicked at not recognizing his surroundings, but he quickly remembers. He is in bed with Winston, feels Winston's arm wrapped over him, his naked body spooned up to him. It's nice, waking like this. But soon the reality barges into his mind, and he realizes he has to get up. He has to get home, then to work. He has to face Elizabeth. Winston stirs as he gets up. Connor tells him he has to go, has to get home to change clothes and get to work. He doesn't mention Elizabeth, knowing it is one thing he can't talk about, not like this. Winston pulls a note pad and pen from the nightstand for them to exchange phone numbers, which they do quickly, then Connor dresses, kisses Winston and heads out.
He gets to his apartment just as the early morning commuters are heading out. He comes up to his door and enters. Almost immediately he knows something is different. The apartment seems empty. He quietly moves through the living room and heads to the bedroom. The door is open and when he enters the bed is made. It hasn't been slept in, and in the middle of the bed sits an envelope with his name written in Elizabeth's handwriting. He realizes she has left. Her note isn't vindictive, but is blunt, about his growing distance, his obvious attractions he doesn't seem able to accept and when he wasn't at work and wouldn't pick up yesterday, she knew he had to be moving further away from her and it was obvious she would have to make the first move. She was leaving, letting them each find their way.
He sat on the bed for a long time, contemplating the letter, wondering if he should try to get her back, and quickly realizing how foolish that notion was in light of everything. He finally got up and went into the bathroom to shower. After a long hot shower, he slowly got dressed and headed out. He called the office on his way down to let them know he was going to be late. On the sidewalk, as he was walking to work, he called Winston. The phone rang twice then he heard Winston's voice say hello.
"Hey, I just wanted to tell you last night was...special for me. Thanks for everything...I mean...well, I don't know how you...think of last night...but I..." Connor was stammering, almost afraid to ask if Winston wanted to go out again, or if he considered last night just a hook up.
"Connor...Connor" Winston interrupts him "I'd love to go out with you again. How about tomorrow night? You can come over about seven and we'll go out."
"Sounds good; it's a date."