New to the City

Bill thought of Julius, the guy from last night, and he remembered those green eyes that seemed to shine from within. Eyes so sincere, with their appearance of contentment, so comforting and Bill felt relief from knowing the guy, even if only for a night. He had been so busy with his new job, trying to get settled into a new city and not knowing anyone he had found himself sitting alone on Friday night staring out of the living room window watching how the lights of different buildings lit the skyline. Bill sat for a long time, at once enjoying the quiet solitude of the moment, but a restlessness, a desire to begin to explore the city developed within him and he got up, went by the kitchen to set his wine glass down, and proceeded into his bedroom to throw on different clothes.

His search online when he first moved in found bars, clubs, restaurants and other points of interest that he noted for later exploration and tonight he headed to a small bar only a few blocks away, a neighborhood bar catering to the locals. It was in an old storefront, a small table in the front window, the bar immediately behind and beyond another room for casual sitting. The place was busy, but not packed and Bill took a stool at the bar and soon found himself immersed in one conversation or another. The guys were friendly and of all age groups, and they came to this bar for its simple unassuming atmosphere, a place they could socialize, meet new people and just have a nice evening out. Bill conversed with everyone around him, discovered a couple of guys who lived in his building, those who worked at places he wanted to visit and he met guys who flirted with him, and he found them interesting but for some reason, on this first night out, he didn't respond right away to them. Instead he excused himself, telling them he needed to hit the men's room and wanted to check out the rest of the bar, and made his way to the rear. The toilets separated the bar area from the back room and after making a quick stop in the men's room, Bill ambled on back into the dimly lit back room. The walls were painted dark, where the light reflected off of them he saw the color was a dark blue, almost violet, and the furniture was casual, overstuffed armchairs and sofas sitting in small groups where several people sat in quiet conversation, huddled together, immersed in their own little worlds away from the craziness that existed outside. Bill scanned the room and his eyes fell on him, immediately his attention was captured by his presence. He sat alone, at a small bistro table along the back wall, and when Bill stared at him, unable to turn away, he nodded back and smiled.

Bill gave him a nod and stood frozen in place a moment, not sure if he should go to him, although he wanted nothing more in the world at that moment. The guy looked his age, with a neat short hair cut and in the dim light Bill didn't know if his hair was dirty blonde or brown. Maybe it had a red tint. He wore a simple shirt, tucked into his jeans, nothing overly fashionable, but his body fit in his clothes well, the way his shirt hung from his shoulders, the way his jeans fit tightly to his thighs and then loose down his lower legs. Bill thought he should turn and go back to the bar but when his eyes roamed back up the figure before him, sitting just across the room, Bill saw him lift his beer and angle it toward the empty seat across from him. Bill couldn't help but let a small quiet laugh escape as he nodded okay and headed across the room.


Bill woke the next morning and saw it was after ten o'clock, the sun filtering through the blinds and he suddenly remembered Julius and how he had come home with him, and he turned over quickly to find he was alone. He lay staring at the empty pillow, still indented from Julius' head as he relived the night before, how they had talked a long time, the adventure of a new place, for Bill where he was now living and for Julius a place he was merely passing through, but they shared their observations and first impressions. Julius had been a good listener, and when he spoke it was obvious he had been engaged into what Bill had been talking about and contributed his own insights. It had been after one o'clock when Bill leaned over and asked Julius if he wanted to come back to his place, for a drink or something, and he remembered how Julius smiled, knowingly, a little mischievously, and soon after they were sitting in Bill's living room.

The image of Julius coming into his living room, the way he moved confidently, his tall lean body so graceful, and Bill remembered noticing his delicate hands, their long fingers, as he held his drink. And there were those green eyes that looked back at him, confident, unafraid to look directly at him and he remembered how it was Julius who made the first move, who had moved next to him on the sofa, asking if it was alright as he settled down next to him, a hand on his thigh. The memory of it all flowed through his mind, how they undressed each other, kissing, lips and tongues moving over flesh, hands touching, groping; their grips firm and warm. How Julius moved down on the floor between his legs, hands on his thighs rubbing back and forth and he remembered how he looked down his own body, over his chest, his stomach, his hard cock as it bobbed up and down, arched up over his stomach and down to the lean muscular form between his legs. Julius's body was lean but muscular, his skin fair, unblemished and in the light of his apartment Julius' hair looked lighter, more blonde. The memory of that first touch, those long delicate fingers, taking his cock and holding it up vertical and then the second sensation, the warm wet tongue that moved along the shaft and twirled over the head, and finally those full lips parting, sinking down over the head of his cock, moving downward, enveloping his cock in the warmth, the slick wetness of Julius' mouth.

It made his cock harden as he lay on the bed reliving those next moments. Julius taking his cock, working his mouth along its full length, sucking the head, till he had been so close, so very close to cumming and Julius pulling up and smiling at him.

"You want to go to your bedroom" he had asked and Bill stood up and led him to his bedroom. Julius grew a little aggressive, frisky, and they tumbled on the bed, rolled over each other as they kissed and hands roamed over naked skin. Bill remembered how he had rolled onto his back, pulling Julius on top, hands on his ass cheeks, squeezing them, pulling them apart, running his fingers along the crevice between till he found Julius' opening, rubbed his fingers over it till Julius moaned and pushed downward, pressing his hole against Bill's finger until he pressed it into Julius, probed his hole, felt the soft velvety insides and the tight ring of his hole grip his finger. Then it all seemed to happen so fast, the way Julius moved on top of him, their bodies rubbing against each other, and then his cock enveloped inside of Julius, buried all the way as Julius sat on him, his hands on Bill's chest. The image of Julius moving up and down, slowly at first, the tight ring of Julius' hole milking his cock, and he remembered placing his hands on Julius' thighs, pushing down, getting that hole to take his entire cock, all of it and Julius moaning, grunting with each downward move, and when he had ran his hand over Julius' chest he felt the heat of him, the way his exertions had him wet, the sweat beginning to form. Bill remembered how his skin felt slick to the touch and how his fingers glided downward so easily, over the flat stomach and around the hard cock bobbing up and down. It had so wet already, the leaking head drooling pre-cum till it puddle on his stomach and he had stroked his hand along the hard shaft, bringing each stroke upward all the way over the head, rubbing it, making Julius buck and rock harder.

It seemed to happen so quickly, and then to be over too soon. Julius had began to rock his hips harder, slamming down on Bill's cock and the noise of his bed squeaking and hitting the wall suddenly embarrassed him, wondering if his neighbors were home to hear. At the time it hadn't mattered, for all he wanted was to feel that body move on top of him, to work its tight hole over his cock and milk it till he came. Bill remembered how it felt, the way Julius' hole would spasm with each ejaculation, as each wad spattered on his body, the first hitting him in the face, the next leaving a long line of cum over his chest and finally over his stomach, smaller pools of the thick white cum and with each ejaculation he felt Julius' hole grip his cock, squeeze it, bring him to the point of cumming. He remembered how he had thrown his head back, his eyes closed, as he came, pumping his hips upward as hard as he could, feeling the weight of Julius holding him down, as each ejaculation pumped more and more of his load into him filling his hole.

Bill found his hand stroking his cock as he remembered how good it felt, that lean muscular body on his cock, moving on it, and the way it had brought him off and soon he was cumming again, pumping out his cum across his stomach. He lay there satisfied, his slick messy hand still on his cock, feeling the cum cool and turn runny and he lay there for a few more minutes thinking how this was going to be good, living in this city, in this neighborhood and how he had the adventure of life before him.

Passing of Time

George had lived in the city all his life, saw all the changes, the way neighborhoods changed, the city get larger, and sprawl out into areas he rarely, if ever, went. He saw his friends come and go, so many over the years left the city to pursue new careers, a new life, or to live a life with someone special to them. George didn't regret not leaving to try life elsewhere, but he found himself more melancholy, a sense of missed opportunities, of life passing him by. He turned fifty last month and the realization of his age hit him in a way none of his previous birthdays had done. He had a good life, with his own business, a nice house in one of the old neighborhoods where he had been one of its pioneers, one of the first to move back into it, to renovate an old house, to make it his home, and the neighborhood flourished now, with its restaurants, bars, galleries and shops, and he loved to spend a Saturday or Sunday with his few close friends, laughing and talking about all the good times they had had over the years. But he'd found himself feeling lonely, more so than usual. He'd not been in a serious relationship in a couple of years and had vowed not to get into one, but yet, he was craving that intimacy with another man. He found it harder for some reason to meet others, even if it was for casual sex. It seemed so many his age had settled down, or developed their own scene, some getting heavily into their fetishes, and George understood, this need to live the way you wanted, but some of it wasn't for him.

Memorial Day weekend arrived and George found many of his friends out of town, going to one vacation destination or another, some to a gay themed weekend, others simply going to the mountains or the beach, and he had begged off this year, wanting to stay home and just relax. Work had been stressful with tax time last month and then some problems he had to iron out made the idea of traveling seem too much. He just wanted to relax at home. He had spent Friday night and all day Saturday with several of his friends but Sunday he had kept his calendar open, kept it to himself.

Sunday was a rainy day, a slow steady drizzle, that kept everyone indoors, and George had grabbed his umbrella and decided to walk to the business district in his neighborhood. He strolled down the sidewalk, the umbrella protecting him from the rain as he made his way to a small independent coffee shop, one that was not as neat, not as organized as the chain places that seemed to be popping up everywhere, but one that George found enticingly comfortable, with its diverse clientele and casual sitting areas that welcomed one to relax and enjoy a leisurely afternoon or evening.

The coffee shop was busy, more so than he had expected and George had to take a small table in the back, a little bistro table with two padded chairs, where he relaxed with his coffee and small desert he had treated himself. He glanced around the room, at the different people who were there, how many seemed so young to him now, looked to be children and he suddenly felt foolish for the thought, remembering how his parents talked liked this about the young people coming up. He let his eyes scan the faces around him and some he found attractive, but none seemed to notice him. His eyes roamed over to the line of people being served, the two women each with a stroller, juggling purses, talking non-stop to each other as they waited for their order and he wondered what it was like, a life like that, married, raising children. He saw the young man in line behind them, tall and lean, his light brown hair neat, his dress casual in a t-shirt and jeans and he watched how he moved, gracefully, with confidence. George hadn't realized how he was staring but when the young man turned to look around the room for a place to sit he had nodded at George and smiled.

George felt embarrassed to have been caught staring so at the young man, but when he moved through the random seating of the room and came to his table George felt his heart beat faster, that need to take a deep breath, as he looked up at the guy standing by him.

"Excuse me, but the place seems rather full; would you mind sharing your table?"

George had taken a moment to respond, almost too long, his mind jammed on the idea of this young man approaching him, but he quickly pushed the chair out and told him to be his guest, to please have a seat. George watched him ease down into the chair, gracefully slide it back giving him room for his long legs, and George noticed his eyes, vivid green in color, so intense he had to make himself stop staring.

"Thanks for letting me share your table. I'm Julian, by the way."

"George" and for a moment he wasn't sure what else to say, but Julian turned to him and began to talk, to ask about him, casually, nothing too prying and George found himself deep into conservation with Julian, talking about the city, this neighborhood and his life here and he inquired about Julian, if he was new to the area.

"No, I'm just visiting for a few days" Julian replied and he began to ask George about his favorite books, his favorite music, and they talked a long time, getting a couple of refills and then at Julian's suggestion, moving down the block to a small restaurant to grab dinner. George realized during dinner Julian kept the conversation about him, avoiding discussing his own life, where he was from or why he was visiting, or where he was heading when he left. But something told him not to pry, to just go with the moment and continue to enjoy this most pleasant of evenings.

With dinner finished and George adamant about paying, telling Julian how pleasant he had found the whole afternoon, he asked Julian if he'd like to visit one more of his favorite places in the neighborhood, a small neighborhood bar. They arrived to find several guys standing around the entrance. Inside it was crowded, people packed around the bar, all the tables and booths occupied, but yet it still had that welcoming feel the place always seemed to have whenever George came for a drink. George led Julian to the bar and allowed him to order for the two of them. Drinks in hand they pulled to the side and soon several guys George knew came over to say hello, ask about Julian, some even flirting with him as George knew they would. Julian had been friendly, showing interest in what everyone had to say and laughing off the advances. But after a few minutes Julian leaned over to George, moved so close to his head he felt the young man's breath on his ear.

"Can we leave? Maybe go back to your place, or something?"


George sat in the screen porch on the back of his house, allowing himself the indulgence of one cigarette, smoking it slowly, savoring the warm smoke as it filled his lungs, knowing he shouldn't, having given up his heavy smoking years ago, but on occasion he craved a cigarette; just one. The sun was slowly rising, the darkness of night fading away, and the song of birds filled the early morning air. He smiled at each memory of the last day, the way he had met Julian, their spending the day together, two perfect strangers only hours before and George had to shake his head and laugh at how Julian was still a mystery to him for he never learned anything about him. But he had came back to George's house, seemed to sense George's need, his desire and Julian had taken George by the hand and led him upstairs to his bedroom, asking along the way which door was his room.

George hadn't been with another man in months and suddenly he felt like a teenager when years ago, he let John Michael, the boy who moved in next door, lead him to his bedroom and showed him the things he desired. Julian had stood in front of him and slowly removed his clothes, his long delicate fingers working easily over each button, the zipper and laces of his shoes. George had let Julian remove all his clothes without helping. He had just stood there and let Julian do all the work and then he felt Julian touch him, caress his skin, lips on his neck, over his ear, tongue darting out, warm and wet, moving around his jaw until he had felt those lips touch his own. Julian's hand had moved over his chest, down his stomach and around his cock, it hardening with his touch.

George remembered how he woke as if from a trance and began to undress Julian, with trembling hands, suddenly nervous in such a silly way. He had pulled the t-shirt over Julian's head revealing the toned body, so fair the skin appeared to glow in the dim light. He remembered how smooth Julian felt, so firm to the touch, and he remembered how Julian took his hand and moved it down his chest, over that stomach that was so flat and over the bulge in his jeans.

"Feel what you do to me, George" Julian had whispered, so low George had barely heard him but he remembered how it felt, confined in those jeans, angled over to the side, so hard and he had sat on the edge of his bed and rubbed it with his hand, took Julian by the waist and pulled him closer as he put his mouth to the bulge, let Julian feel his mouth move along the shaft. George remembered how Julian's narrow waist made his jeans hang loose on his hips, how they fell away when he had undone the button and pulled down the zipper, how the tight white briefs were tented so, his cock pushing hard against them. He had put his mouth on the thin white fabric, his desire to feel Julian's cock in his mouth so overwhelming the fabric was soon wet, translucent with his saliva, and he could see Julian's cock, the long shaft with its flared head. Julian smiled at him when he had looked up, running his hand through George's hair, pushing his head back a little more as he leaned down and kissed him again. George remembered how soft his kiss was, the way his lips gently pressed against his own, and Julian had stood back up, not saying a word, pushed his briefs down his thighs till they fell to his ankles. Julian moved up to George and pushed him back and George thought of how it felt, to be on his back, someone taking his legs, holding them up, pushing them back till he knew he was exposed, open, ready.

Julian had eased into him so easily, his cock penetrated him so slowly he felt little of the pain of entry and when he felt that tall lean torso press against the back of his thighs, push against him, he had thrown his arms out and laid back taking it, every inch, as Julian bore down on him, rocked his hips, slowly at first, but soon going faster and faster. George had taking his own cock in hand, stroked it in rhythm to Julian, to the pace he had been exerted himself, and George felt the way Julian slid through him, penetrated deeply into his very desire.

George took a long last drag of his cigarette as he remembered feeling his own cock leak so much his hand and shaft were slick with it, noisily he had stroked his cock, grunting and moaning like a young boy, while taking Julian's fuck, all of it, and he remembered how Julian pushed his legs apart, moved down between them, and George remembered the sensation of his nipple being nipped, lightly at first and he had grabbed Julian by the head and held him down on it and Julian bit down harder, painfully, pleasurably, and he had bucked up, pushed his hips upward, taking Julian a little harder. George couldn't remember all the details as they had gotten into the final throes of their fucking, it was only images, feelings, sensations of touch, desire, pleasure and pain, but he remembered how he had felt his cum race through his cock, felt his cock swell with it, blasting out his load between them, it having spattered on Julian's chest and dripped down on his own. And through it all, his cock exploding with his load, his body so tensed up tight, the feel of his hole as it milked Julian, he had felt Julian stab his cock into his hole in short thrusts, hard penetrating thrusts and he had heard Julian cry out, blissfully, as he pumped his load into George.

George pushed the dirty ashtray away and stared out across his back yard, seeing what his mind was portraying instead of the birds fluttering from tree to tree. He thought of how pleasurably satisfied he had been, this sexual exhaustion that he felt, sated, and he remembered how it felt, Julian's hot sweaty body lying on him, his breathing at first hard and ragged, but after a few minutes it settled to a slow steady rhythm. They had laid there for a long time, but when Julian had gotten up and went into his bathroom George knew it was over, come to its natural conclusion, for the visitor had to leave, and it was okay. Now he sat waiting for the rhythm of a work day to begin and George relished the thought of getting back into the swing of another week, and he might see if that guy who worked at the gallery wanted to go out.

Painful Confusion

TJ skated down the sidewalk, letting the sloping grade maintain his momentum, as he wove around the pedestrians, curved around newspaper stands, light poles, and the occasional planter. He allowed his speed to slow as he moved along a particular section of storefront and when he came to Odin's, an alternative clothing store, he stepped off the board, stepped down on the back edge and flipped it up into his hand. He stood on the sidewalk looking at the mannequins attired in the latest fashions and he wondered what it would be like to have the money to shop there. He looked at one male mannequin dressed in leather pants and a mesh shirt and wondered if he could wear something like that, something so revealing. He stepped over for a closer look and the light changed and suddenly he saw his reflection. Tall and skinny, his thin arms appearing too long for his body even though he was over six feet tall, his long black hair unruly, sticking out in all manner of ways, and there was the tattoos, along both arms and visible around the neck of his stretched t-shirt he could see the edge of the tattoo on his chest. He looked at himself, the way he was dressed, old khaki's from a charity store, the knees busted out, the pant hems just ragged edges, and his t-shirt, a punk rock band on the front, was so old the image was faded, the sleeves ripped off and the overall body stretched completely out of shape. He saw the long loose chains hanging from his waist, a wallet which only had a five and two ones, his ATM card, and his driver's license. 'No' he thought, he couldn't wear that shirt.

He turned and started walking, to where he didn't know. It was his first day off from his two part time jobs in over two weeks and he was exhausted, bored, and frustrated. He had grown to like the neighborhood, although it had been tough, his parents moving here just before his senior year in high school. He had known no one in his school and had been a loner most of the time. He made a few friends and kept himself busy with a part time job that now seemed permanent to him it having been over two years ago when he started. A dead end, low paying job that would never allow him to do anything he really wanted to do. He knew he had to get his shit together, enroll at the community college in town, and begin a new direction with some sort of goal. But as bad as it was on the job front, it was his social life that really made him hurt inside.

He sat down on a bench in front of a barber shop, one with the traditional red and white striped pole, and began to watch the pedestrians moving along the sidewalk. He saw an attractive woman coming toward him, wearing a sun dress, it bellowing in the breeze as she walked and it made him think of some commercial on TV and he found her attractive but he didn't feel sexually attracted to her. He had dated a few girls in junior high and his senior year here in this city but it was just going through the motion of it, trying to be like his friends, double dating at times, but it was never satisfying. He knew he was trying to be what his friends and family expected, but it wasn't what he felt.

He looked the other way and saw two guys coming down the sidewalk, casually dressed in jeans, simple shirts, normal looking, one had short blonde hair, the top gel up, slightly spiky in appearance and the other one had a ball cap on revealing just the neatly trimmed edge of his dark hair. TJ found them attractive, sexually attractive, and he watched them intently as they approached. He looked down their bodies, both average builds that looked good, and his eyes roamed down their frames till he was looking at their crotches, the way their jeans bulged and he wondered about their cocks. Suddenly the blonde took the hand of the other as they talked casually to each other and TJ felt something inside stir. Envy. Jealously. As they passed the blonde gave TJ a sneered look but the other guy just smiled at him and TJ wished he was the one with him instead of the blonde. He watched them as they moved away, seeing how their asses moved within their jeans, and the way they were so comfortable with each other, holding hands as they walked.

"Excuse me, but could you tell me which bus goes back to The Heights?"

TJ was startled, not having seen the guy come up from the other direction and he took a moment to gather his thoughts, to think about which bus he needed, and when he had looked up he had to fight the urge to stare at the guy. He was tall, with a lean solid build and his hair was light brown, close to dirty blonde and when he removed his sunglasses it was his green eyes that captured TJ's attention the most.

"You want the number 7 and you need to be on the other side of the street" he finally said.

"Thanks" the guy replied and he looked over to the other side of the street for the bus stop.

"It's on the next block, in front of that coffee shop."

The guy nodded and looked back down at TJ, his smile friendly, unassuming. "Would you care to join me for a coffee? It'll be an expression of my gratitude for your assistance."

TJ was stunned the guy was offering to buy him anything, even a coffee. He was so neatly dressed, so normal looking, attractive, and his eyes were so fucking friendly he felt his heart rate go up, and he didn't know whether to say yes or to tell him to fuck off. He looked away from those eyes and out toward the street not really noticing what cars were passing. "The bus runs ever ten minutes or so" he stated, giving the guy a way out.

"Oh, I've no set time to get back so I can catch one whenever. Come on; let me buy you a coffee."

TJ didn't know why he did it, but he got up and walked with the guy down the sidewalk to the corner so they could cross. The guy told him he was just visiting the city, passing through really, and he was out killing time. He told TJ how fascinating he found this neighborhood and asked if TJ lived nearby. TJ hesitated to reply, but as they stood waiting for the signal to change allowing them to cross he began to talk, to tell this guy, a perfect stranger, how he lived in a small apartment he shared with another guy he didn't know, nor trusted. He talked about his part time jobs at two of the local shops, and as they went into the coffee shop and he told the guy what to order for him, he confessed how his parents had moved here during the summer before his senior year and how it sucked but it was okay now, he had made some friends and was thinking of going to college next fall, to get his shit together, and the guy listened, let TJ talk.

TJ suddenly felt embarrassed at how he had went on and on and stopped talking as he looked out of the window, wondering what he was thinking, at how much an idiot he was being.

"What? Is something wrong?" the guy asked; his voice sincere.

"Uh, no, I mean, I've just been rambling on and probably boring the hell out of you."

"Not at all" the guy responded and he leaned forward and asked TJ if he was dating anyone, and TJ noticed how he seemed to know.

"No; not at the moment."

The guy smiled mischievously and whispered, "So you just like to play the field for now?"

TJ laughed, a derisive laugh, and shook his head. He looked back at the guy, into those eyes and he fell silent, not sure what to say, thinking he should get up and leave. He looked down at his hands lying on the table intertwined together to keep him from being fidgety and he saw the guy's hand move into view, gracefully it moved up and over his own, gently covering them. TJ held his breath, the warm touch frightening, and he looked up into the guy's smiling face.

"You shouldn't feel so anxious, ya know?"

TJ nodded but said nothing.

"Would you like to come back to my hotel room, we could just hang out and talk?"

TJ couldn't believe he heard the guy, the suggestion that he, someone so different from this guy, go back to his hotel. But he knew he wanted to go there, more than anything, and the guy was just passing through, a stranger, someone he would never see again, and he wondered 'why the fuck not, nothing is going to happen'. He looked at the guy and nodded yes.


TJ woke to the sunlight coming through window, the curtains still open and he saw the skyline of the city, it in silhouette as the sun rose beyond. He looked around the room and knew immediately the guy was gone. Rolling over he looked over at the other side of the bed, it empty, the sheets cool to the touch and he saw the note lying on the pillow, neatly folded in half.

'Thanks for just being here, it made my stay pleasurable. Have a good life.'

That was it and TJ realized he didn't know the guy's name or anything about him of substance, like where he was from, where he was going, or why he was visiting. TJ sat up and saw his reflection in the mirror, his nakedness, this lean body, the tattoo on his chest, along his thin arms and he saw himself as a gay man who needed to move on with his life. He smiled at his own reflection and seeing it in the mirror reinforced the way he felt.

The memory of the previous afternoon and evening came back to him, flashes of images, and he made himself organize his thoughts, to remember how it all played out, the bus ride back to the hotel, standing in the aisle holding the overhead bar for balance just glancing at one another from time to time, the guy smiling back at him each time. TJ realized the guy was about his own height and when they bumped each other, the feel of his arm touching him was electric, made him loosen his stance and allow them to bump often during their ride.

TJ had followed him into the lobby, up the elevator where he told TJ they could order some food, have some drinks from the mini frig in his room and TJ listened, all of it seeming like a dream and when the guy opened the door to his room and TJ had walked in he was stunned at the view, the city's skyline was right there in the window, filling it from side to side, top to bottom, and the late afternoon sun made it glow bright, reflect the surroundings in the glass towers and making the warm stone finishes of some buildings appear warm , their colors comforting, soft.

It was awkward at first, TJ not knowing what to say, thinking his interest would be boring but when room serviced arrived with their dinner and they sat at the small table by the window TJ had opened up about his love of music, literature and art, and how he had secretly been keeping a sketch book for years, and spending some of his free time in the library, the guy listened, commenting and giving his own opinions, making TJ feel like it was important, these interests of his and how he should pursue them. It grew late, the skyline lost its glow when the sun set, then the buildings lit up, their windows ablaze with light and the whole mood of the room changed with it. TJ couldn't remember how they ended up on the floor, sitting with their backs to the bed, a few of the small bottles of bourbon empty, only melting ice left in their glasses. He also didn't know where he got the courage, the impulse to act on his desires, but he had leaned over and kissed the guy, quickly, on the lips and when he pulled away, fearful of the reaction he was going to get, afraid he had blown the mood of the whole evening, the guy had merely smiled and reached out, put his hand on the back of TJ's neck and pulled him back, brought their lips together, gently, and TJ had relaxed into him.

TJ let his mind remember, brought each detail he could recall back to life in his mind, how the guy had moved up on his knees, shifted in front of him, straddled his legs, kissing him passionately. TJ remembered the feel of the guy's hands on his body, moving around his neck, over his shoulders, up and down his arms, and over his chest. He had let the guy pull his t-shirt over his head and he had carelessly tossed it on the floor. TJ remembered how it felt when the guy's lips moved down his jaw, around his ear, down his neck, and when the guy had him shift around, lie on his back, the guy had ran his tongue down his chest, tongued his nipples, bit them lightly and he remembered how it felt, that pain, mixed with the pleasure of this touch and he remembered how it felt to rub his hands over the guy's head, feel the soft hair slide through his fingers. He remembered how he froze for a moment when he felt the guy run his hand over his crotch, the way he was already so hard and the feel of another man touching him so good. The guy had stroked his hand over his cock, and squeezed it as he ran his tongue along his exposed skin at the edge of his waist band. The touch of his warm tongue, soft and wet had made him squeeze the guy's shoulders as he pushed his hips up against the hand manipulating his cock.

TJ moved to the window, looking out at the city as it came to life in the early morning as he remembered how things seemed to happen quickly after that, the guy undoing his khakis, sucking his cock and TJ remembered how it felt, that warm mouth sliding down his shaft, engulfing it, and he remembered how he had cried out. The guy had removed TJ's shoes, socks, pulled his pants and boxers down, stripping him naked, and TJ remembered how it felt for the guy, still fully clothed, lying on top of him, kissing him, hands roaming up and down his sides, holding his hands down over his head and TJ had liked the weight of him, the slight constriction of body on top of body and he had ground his hips into the guy's crotch, and he felt him push back.

TJ remembered how he had still been a little intimidated by the guy, and when the guy got up, held his hand down to help TJ stand, he found himself standing naked in front of him, and his hands began to work open the shirt, fumbling with the buttons and the guy's hands had come up and took TJ's, holding them still.

"Let me do it, okay" he had stated, quietly, barely audible in the quiet room, and TJ only nodded, and sat down on the bed and watched. The guy revealed his lean smooth upper torso, and when he got his pants and briefs off, he revealed his long muscular legs, his narrow hips and his hard cock, it sticking out, the head already wet, a long drool of pre-cum beginning to fall toward the floor, and TJ remembered how he had dropped down on his knees and moved up to the guy, leaned down and let the drool of pre-cum pool on his tongue as he lifted up, capturing all of it He then licked the head of the guy's cock clean. He thought of that sweet taste, how it had excited him, to be taking this from the guy and he remembered how it felt, for the first time, to be taking a guy's cock, letting it slide into his mouth.

He had no idea how long they made out, how long he had been on his knees, sucking the guy's cock, letting him hold his head and pump it back and forth through his lips, but he remembered how the guy got him on the bed, moved down by him, told him he wanted TJ to fuck him. TJ had been anxious the guy would want to fuck his ass and he worried how it would feel, if it would hurt if he let him and he didn't know if he could do it. Instead he found himself moving up behind the guy, rubbing his cock over the opening, feeling its tightness and he found himself penetrating the guy, slowly sinking his cock into him, inch by inch and the memory of how it felt, that tightness as his cock penetrated and the soft warm feel of the guy's insides when he was all the way in.

TJ had taken his time, watched how the guy's body shivered and moved beneath him as he worked his cock back and forth, slowly at first, savoring every sensation, the way he could feel the guy tight on his shaft, the way his movement through the tight ring of his opening milked his cock. He remembered the sensation of this fuck, the intimacy with this man and he worked up his pace, pumped his hips faster and all too soon he felt his cock swell, felt his whole body tense up tight and when he had felt his cock shoot he had cried out, loudly, obscenely, shoving hard into the guys as he pumped his load into him.

The exertion of the fuck exhausted him and he had laid over the guy's back, felt the heat of their bodies trapped between them and he had ran his hands slowly around the guy's chest, felt his smooth skin and he remembered how he let his hands roam down to the guy's cock, took its hardness in hand, felt it throb at his touch. TJ had wanted it, more than anything else, and he had kissed the back of the guy's neck, nipped him lightly and building up his courage, his desire till he finally asked for what he really wanted.

"Will you do me?" in such a nervous low voice he wasn't sure the guy had heard him but when the guy told him to let him roll over on his back TJ knew the time had come and he watched him turn, his body, so long and lean stretch out, take his own cock in hand, stroke it a few times, slowly, smearing the pre-cum along the shaft and when he had looked up at TJ, his green eyes showing a longing, TJ knew it was time and he moved over the guy, straddled his waist and felt the hard cock touch him, rub over him and when it pressed against his hole he felt his desire build, his hips rocked involuntarily, rubbing his opening over the slick wet head.

"Take me, let me in" the guy had said, his voice calm, reassuring, and TJ had eased down, let his body's weight bring him downward and he remembered the initial penetration, the way his body opened up, took this guy's cock, let it slide into him and the pain wasn't bad, and he soon worked up a rhythm, moving up and down and he remembered how good it felt, that cock sliding through his hole, pushing up into him, filling him up. He hadn't taken long to build up a fast pace, of slamming his hips down, fucking his hole on this hard cock buried in it. He had leaned back resting on his arms and pumped his hips as fast as he could. He wanted this guy to cum, he wanted him to pump it in his hole, all of it and he had gotten hard again, his own cock bouncing up and down and when the guy had taken it in his hand, stroked it to his rhythm, he'd never felt anything like it before, the pleasurable sensations.

He didn't remember how long he rode that guy's cock, but he remembered how the sweat ran down his body, rivulets trailing down his torso, running out of his hair and he remembered how the guy began to push up, working in rhythm with him and when he had felt his second load ready to come, he had begged the guy to stroke him harder as he slammed his hips up and down on the guy's cock. It felt like he came harder the second time as his cock shot wad after wad, till it was smeared over the guy's hand and down his shaft. The guy had moved quickly then, so fast TJ couldn't remember if he had said anything or had just done it but he had flipped TJ on his back, pushed his legs up till they touched his shoulders, folding him in half, his ass turned up, open for the guy's cock and the guy had plunged into him hard, slammed his hips down on TJ's upturned ass and pounded him into the bed, fucked him so hard and he had held on to the guy, wrapped his arms around the guy's neck. He remembered how he found himself begging the guy the fuck him harder, to fuck him, whispering it at first but later crying out how he wanted it, needed it, and the guy had built up a furious pace, rocking the bed underneath them.

TJ looked back at the bed, the bed he had taken it, that guy's cock and he remembered how the guy had shoved in hard, short jabbing thrusts and came in his ass, filled it with his cum.

They had showered together afterwards, washing each other's bodies, and afterward they had gone to bed, and TJ remembered how he had snuggled up to the guy and felt his arms take him as he held him tight.

TJ picked up his clothes and got dressed. He carefully folded the note back in half and put it in his pocket. As he made his way through the hotel he thought how it was time to make a change, to do those things he wanted to do. He would stop by the community college on the way home and check out the curriculum and see what they offered in art. As he waited for the bus he thought of the guy, his body, the way he moved, gracefully, so assuredly, and he remembered their sex, the intimacy, the physically nature of it, but most of all he remember his eyes, those green eyes. As the bus pulled up and door opened he also remembered how he didn't know the guy's name, that in the end, anyone he told would call it just a hook up, a one night stand. But TJ knew better and he smiled, greeted the bus driver with a friendly 'good morning' as he paid the fare and moved onto the bus.

Two months later, in a different city.

Gary got off his plane, exhausted and frustrated, the trip having been a disaster. He moved through the airport to baggage claim and waited for the conveyor to start up and bring their luggage out for retrieval. He let his eyes roam over the crowd waiting, especially the other men. He tried his office on his cell only to find his battery was dead. 'Fuck' he thought, putting the dead phone in his pocket. The conveyor finally started and the bags came out. When he saw a piece of luggage that was dark blue he thought it his and he pulled it up setting it at his feet where he noticed the tag wasn't right.

"Excuse me, but I think we've mixed up our luggage."

Gary looked up and saw this nice looking guy, taller than he, nice lean body and his dirty blonde hair was slightly disheveled, fashionably so, and he saw the guy's eyes, emerald green, shining with depth and he found he was staring at the guy.

"Yeah, I think we've got each other's bag" Gary responded.

"No harm. I'm Jude. Would you care to share a cab into the city?" the guy asked and Gary just nodded his head yes.



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