Writing a "How To" Manual


Ken Cole entered Carl McElroy's hospital room with great trepidation. Ken's wife had caused a terrible accident, which had killed her, his younger son, and damn near killed Carl. The truck driver had every right to ask him to get out and leave him alone. Ken offered Carl his hand to shake.

"I'm Ken Cole." He said. "It was my wife who crashed into you."

Carl smiled, and shook Ken's hand. "I know your wife and son died in the accident. They told me that you have another son," he said. "How are you guys managing? You've both been a lot on my mind, and I've been concerned for you."

Fuck, Ken thought, He's turning the table on me.

"That's odd," he said, "I've been concerned about you. That's why I'm here, to tell you how sorry I am."

"I can't tell you enough, how happy I am to see you. I can assure you that I'm perfectly all right. I'm getting out of the hospital in a few days, but I won't be returning to work for a couple of weeks. Tell me, how are you and your son handling your horrendous loss?"

"If you want honesty, we are both basket cases. I'm worse than Tim. I haven't even been able to go back to work. I may never. I'm seriously thinking of moving out west to a small community where Tim will be safe."

"That's strange," Carl said. "I've been thinking the same thing, but I don't know what I would do? What have you got in mind?"

"I thought I'd buy a small retail business. When all my insurance claims are settled, I'll have a few bucks to invest."

"That's great," Carl smiled at Ken. "I'll be coming into some insurance money myself." Ken's hand was resting at the edge of Carl's bed, and Carl patted it with his own. The two men smiled at each other.

Ken visited for about an hour and then he asked, "Am I interrupting anything? Are you expecting any other visitors? I can come back another time."

Carl laughed sardonically. "You are my only visitor, and you are apt to remain that way."

Ken was surprised. Carl was a good looking, affable man. He should have had lots of visitors. He looked at Carl quizzically, and Carl felt he should explain.

"My family disowned me years ago, when I told them I was gay, and my macho fellow truck drivers have nothing to do with me. I guess they think I'm going to infect them or something."

Ken was surprised that Carl was gay. He didn't have a clue. He couldn't relate being gay with being a burly truck driver. He thought that gays were all hair dressers and dancers. He wanted Carl to know that it didn't matter to him at all. Somehow the fact that his wife might have killed the guy, laid heavily on his conscience.

"Well, all I can say is that those guys are jerks. I think you are a great guy to know. I would want to be your friend."

"Would you?"

"I sure would."

Ken visited Carl a few times more in the hospital, and when he was discharged, he took Carl out to dinner one night, and a few days later Carl reciprocated. They continued this routine for a few weeks, and one night Carl invited Ken for dinner in his apartment. Carl kept a few gay magazines on his coffee table, and a few nude male photographs hanging in his bedroom and his bathroom. He thought of hiding them away, but the pictures were too big, and Ken said that he didn't care about Carl's sexual preference, so he left everything where it usually stayed. The truth was he would love to seduce Ken, but he didn't dare admit it, even to himself.

For his part, Ken had been masturbating often since his wife's death, but it didn't take away his longing to be intimate with a woman. It never occurred to him that Carl would be happy to relieve his stress. If ever a pot was ready to boil, without anyone looking at it, this was the perfect situation.

When Carl let Ken into his apartment. The two men hugged each other, and both kept the hold longer than they realized. Carl plumped up, and Ken swore he could feel his friend's assets, but he wasn't sure. His suspicions were enough to break the hold at last.

"Dinner is all prepared and ready to be eaten," Carl informed his guest. Let's have a drink first."

He prepared a gin and tonic for himself and a scotch straight up for Ken. By now he was familiar with what Ken drank. He also knew that Ken "loosened" up a little after a drink or two.

They sat down together on the sofa, and Ken noticed the magazines on the coffee table. A male nude appeared on the front cover of one, and he desperately wanted to pick it up, but he was too shy to do so. Carl deciphered the look on Ken's face. "I'm sorry," Carl said. "I didn't think to remove these." He picked up the magazine and handed it to Ken. "Here, glance at this while I take the shrimp cocktail out of the fridge."

Ken smiled shyly and started to leaf through the magazine. The pictures inside were very provocative, and he was startled to find himself getting hard. Carl called him to the table twice, but he was too embarrassed to stand up.

Carl laughed. "If you've got a boner, you don't have to be shy with me. I live for a good stiff one."

Ken stood up. His trousers were tenting. "How'd you know?" he asked.

"Those pictures do it for me every time. That's why I keep them there. It helps break the ice when I have company, and it gets me in the mood when I whack off."

Ken was silent for a long time. "Are you trying to break the ice with me?" he asked.

"Do you want the truth?"

"Yes, I do. Put your thoughts on the table."

"Ken, I fell in love with you the day you walked into my hospital room. Yes I would like to break the ice with you, tonight and every night to come."

"Wow. I never expected anything like this when I accepted your invitation to dinner," Ken mumbled. He was as red as the red stripe on an American flag. "I've never been with a man before. I don't know if I could do anything."

"You wouldn't have to do anything but lie back and enjoy. I'll do all the work. I won't ask a thing of you unless someday in the future you want to give it a try. If there is a future that is."

"Let's have dinner. Give me another drink, and let's see what happens."

Ken was very uncomfortable and nervous, but dinner and two more drinks relaxed him. Add to the fact that he hadn't been with another human, male or female, since his wife died, and Ken was ripe for loving.

Carl led him into his bedroom and said, "I'm writing a manual on how to make love to a man. So you see I'm an expert. You are about to learn from the best."

"Are you starting with chapter one, I hope?" Ken laughed.

"Of course."

"And how does chapter one begin?"

"With you and me taking a shower together. All good foreplay begins in the shower. You better get undressed or your clothes will get awfully wet."

Ken never took a shower like this one in his life. At first he stood like a statue. He was a really nervous Nellie, but when Carl began to soap his body and caress his cock with soap, he began to mewl in pleasure, so Carl got bolder. He soaped his middle finger and started to insert it gently into Ken's ass. Ken's body stiffened again.

"Relax," Carl said. "You're going to love this." He entered Ken's ass gently. Pretend I'm your doctor giving you a rectal exam."

"I don't like those much."

"You'll like mine."

All this dialogue took Ken's mind off what was happening. He didn't realize that Carl's finger had penetrated as deeply as he could. Now Carl was wiggling his finger gently and massaging Ken's prostate. A wave of sexual rapture swept over Ken's body. He forgot that he wasn't with a woman. He just wanted to make love. He put his open lips on Carl's and they enjoyed their first, very passionate kiss. Their tongues were making love even if their cocks hadn't yet started.

As soon as Carl became aware of Ken's lust, he pulled out and Ken was disappointed. "Why did you stop?" he asked.

"I want to dry us up and take it to the bedroom. We'll both be more comfortable there."

Carl told Ken to lie flat on his back. Carl climbed into bed and lay quietly side by side with his friend. He took hold of Ken's hand, and whispered. "Please just relax, Ken. Close your eyes and pretend you're lying on a sandy, pristine beach with anyone you would like to make love with."

Immediately Ken invoked an image of his wife. He pictured making love to her, and he got really hard. His erection was reaching for the ceiling. Then all it once he felt his cock being wrapped up and caressed by a warm wet blanket. It was something he had only felt once before in college when a girl went down on him. No girl after that, including his wife, ever did that to him again. He knew without looking that Carl was giving him a blow job. He was not in any way revolted as he thought he might be. His orgasm was building and he was rising from the sandy beach, being beckoned into heaven. The image of his wife had long since been replaced by an image of Carl. Suddenly, before the point of no return, Carl stopped sucking his cock.

Ken groaned. "Why did you stop? I was so close."

"Do you want to cum in my mouth or in my ass?" Carl asked seriously.

Without hesitation, Ken asked, "Can't we do one thing now and the other later on, or another time?"

"Of course we can, my love." Carl took Ken into him again and sucked him to a conclusion the likes of which, Ken had never experienced before. He groaned as he came, and then his groan turned into a screaming wail.

When he came down to earth, Ken noted, "You swallowed it. Don't you spit it out?"

"Never. I love you Ken. Your juice is like nectar to me. Someday I pray that you will feel the same way about mine."

"You haven't been satisfied, Carl. I don't think I can do what you just did, but I'd be glad to give you a hand job."

"You don't have to do anything to me, especially if you don't want to. What I just did to you made me very happy."

"I want to," Ken said. He wrapped his fist around Carl's cock and started slowly to stroke. It was the first time he had ever held another man's rod in his hand and it felt strange, but once again he was not revolted, and he was surprised at his emotions. He had wacked off himself enough times in his life to know when Carl was cumming. When he was certain that the end was close, something came over him. He needed to know what Carl's juices tasted like. He leaned over and took Carl's cock into his mouth. He didn't lick or pump it, but he continued to stroke and Carl gushed into his mouth. A good deal of it went down his throat and onto his tongue. He thought that it didn't have much taste at all, but when he realized it was Carl's cum, it suddenly tasted like sweet wine.

The two men lay back exhausted until Carl leaned over Ken and began to kiss him. Their kisses became passionate, scaring Ken. He sat up suddenly and yelled, "I love you too, Carl. Isn't this crazy?"

Over the next few weeks, they continued to make love, and Ken became a full participant. He gave what he received including anal sex. One night he admitted to Carl, that their loving making was the best sex he had ever had.

When they weren't making love, they searched the internet for an ideal business to buy together. Carl brought Ken back to life, and for that he was grateful.

One night after a particularly satisfying love encounter, Ken announced, "It's time for you to meet my son, Carl. I want him to love you as much as I love you."

They arranged for Carl to come to dinner the following Friday evening.

To be continued......



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