Sebastian

by Jason Land

18 Feb 2018 2710 readers Score 9.4 (34 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


SEBASTIAN – THE MALE ESCORT

An Imaginary Homoerotic Story

by

Jason Land 

This is the third of a series of short stories each of which can be read as a stand-alone piece. However as they tied together by some of the characters, who, in one way and another, figure in several of these tales, I recommend my readers to read them in the order in which they were written which is as follows:-

Sebastian’s Schooldays

Sebastian Embraces His Sexuality

Sebastian – The Male Escort

Sebastian Meets Simon

Simon and Sebastian

Simon and Sebastian Meet Chris

Simon and Sebastian in San Francisco


CHAPTER 1

I had just over a month to serve at Jonathan’s Gym before I could take up my job at Mike’s place and it was a month of intensive copulation with Craig.  The guy was really insatiable; but I enjoyed every moment of it and by the time I went take up my job at Mike’s I felt I could truly say that I was a highly experienced full-line copulator; and all thanks to Craig, I now enjoyed taking it as much as I did giving it. It was all utterly enjoyable and I realised, as Craig had sensed from day one, that my future lay, somehow, inextricably entangled with gay sex.  I just loved it: my antics with Charlie at school faded into insignificance once I realised what a terrific sex machine Craig was. But more importantly, I was happy to provide the sexual input to feed that machine. I really had to thank my lucky star for that meeting in the showers with Craig for it changed my life completely. Craig had given me an objective; as yet unfulfilled; but at least I had an idea of where I was going in life.

About a month later, I had my first day at Mike’s bar and Mike introduced me to the other four young studs whom he employed as  bartenders – Mark, Dave, Jason and Dmitri – for  as I believe I mentioned, Mike’s place had a very long bar and needed quite a complement of bartenders to keep the customers happy. My co-workers were all young guys in their early twenties at a guess.  They were all well-built young studs and very sexily dressed. I wondered if they succeeded in picking up paying clients via the bar. But as Craig had said, once I came in, all eyes were focused on me and it became patently obvious that Mike’s place was a top pick-up spot in the neighbourhood.  Anyway, by twelve noon the place was humming with business men and I was kept busy serving; but I was again acutely aware how many eyes were fixed on me and often focused on my crotch.

The lunchtime crowd was thinning, when a youngish well dressed guy slipped me his card and asked me to give him a call on his direct line, saying that he thought we might have something in common.  I was astounded that I had already had a pickup, on my first day and amused by the come-on; something in common! That was a new one!

Well, later that afternoon, I called this man, whose name was Adam Johnson, at a firm of stock-brokers and he asked me if I had time to come round to his office which was a stone’s  throw away from the bar, later that afternoon.  So, nothing ventured, nothing gained, round to his office I went. The doorman looked at me with grave misgiving; but he called Adam who told him to send me up.  Adam in spite of his apparent young age, was clearly a very senior man in this business, as his palatial office was on the top floor and seemed to consist of a suite of rooms.  I guessed that Adam had to be what is called a whiz-kid to enjoy such luxury accommodation. Now this was the first time that I was going to meet a guy in what I imagined was going to be a business deal, a situation with which I was totally unfamiliar. After a few pleasantries, Adam came quickly to the point.

“I suppose you know why I asked you to come here, as I am sure you have guessed by now I want to engage you as a sex partner.  Just looking at you, I am sure that you know what I want; and frankly, not to mince words,  Mike, whom I know very well, told me that you are a hot number.  So as this is to be purely a business relationship, I would like to know what your terms are.  Look here; I am a happily married man with two children and a wife whom I adore and with whom I have regular sex; but I really do need to have some anal simulation from time to time, say once a week, which my wife clearly cannot give me; hence this conversation. Now, could that sort of thing interest you? Would you be willing to service me?  We don’t know one another at all, but just looking at you in the bar and here in front of me now, you make my cock start twitching, so how about it, are you interested and if so what are your terms?”

As ever, utterly direct and no beating about the bush; this guy wanted me to fuck his butt and was asking me to name my price.  I had no idea how much I could ask him for my services; Adam did not know that he was to be my first paying client and I saw no reason to tell him. Craig had told me that guys he knew shelled out 300-400 dollars per shot for male sex, so I told Adam that my going rate was 350 dollars a shot, for about an hour’s recreational sex, was the way I put it. He agreed to this with alacrity, which led me to believe that I was well within the norms for the service I would be rendering.  So we agreed that I would come around to his office at three o’clock next day, once I was off duty and I would service him.

And that is how it all began. It was easier, in the event, than that apocryphal act of falling off a log and I had Craig and Craig alone to thank for giving me the idea. On my way back to Craig’s place, I stopped off at a small print shop and ordered a hundred name cards.  I made them very simple. They said: ‘Sebastian - Male Escort’ and gave just my mobile phone number.  I had already decided that if I was to make a business out of using my cock, the less my clients knew about me and where I lived, the better. So, I gave no address and no fixed telephone number; everything had to be arranged directly by word of mouth via my bar job with Mike or via my mobile phone, which I had bought when I took my West Side apartment as I had not wanted to pay the connection charges for a land line.  So next day I would have a card to hand out; it looked professional, I thought.

I went back to Craig’s place in a state of high euphoria.  I could not wait to tell him that on my very first day at the bar, I had picked up my first paying client or better put, he had picked me up. Craig was delighted, even more so when I told him what Adam was paying me for my services.“I told you so,” he said, “Once a guy sets eyes on you, if he is that way inclined, you have him hooked!  You are just magnetic as I have told you. Come on let’s celebrate.”

Well, you can guess what Craig’s idea of celebrating involved. You’ve got it – he wanted my cock up his arse and a real good hard fuck there and then.  I then started to wonder if when he got married he would be able to keep his promise to himself,  which was to remain faithful to his future wife, for as far as I could see, this guy was in need of anal sex as often as anyone would give it to him.  I did not mind, as I enjoyed fucking butt just as much as he obviously enjoyed taking it. When we were done, he took me out to dinner and later when we got back produced a brand new looking small shoulder satchel from his wardrobe. 

“Here” he said, “Take this; you can use it to carry your things around with you so that you are sure that you have everything you need for your first professional assignment.”  So I loaded the bag up with a few packets of Fukit condoms and at Craig’s insistence, took three of his lube tubes as well.  “You may as well do it properly,” he said. “Give your first client’s arsehole a really good pre-fuck lube so that he realises that you are a true pro.”

The thing that continued to amaze me about New York was the way everyone whom I had met had talked quite openly about gay sex in the most direct of language.  There was no circumlocutive phraseology used at all; a spade was a spade; it was all direct and to the point and usually in the simplest of blunt Anglo-Saxon English; you know, those words which the dictionaries qualify as words no longer in polite use. Well, proscribed from polite conversation they may well be, but believe me, they are alive and well and in daily use!

 

CHAPTER 2

At work in the bar the next morning, I was feeling very nervous.  I was going to go off later to fuck a rich guy as a paying client, something I had never done before; but then I thought, what the hell, Adam is just a guy wanting a fuck and I have done it quite a few times in the last few days: his hole is no different to Craig’s, so what is there to be worried about? But, as you might imagine I was nonetheless somewhat apprehensive as the fatal hour approached and I had to confront Adam and perform. The doorman at his building gave me a knowing look as he ushered me into the elevator and as I entered Adam’s office tried to get a grip on myself and put on a confident face, which frankly, belied the way my stomach felt; it was all collywobbles. 

Adam greeted me like a long lost buddy, closed and locked the door behind us as asked me how I was. 

“Great,” I said, “And ready to go when you are.”  Was this the right way to begin? I really had no idea, but it seemed to go over OK. 

“Well,” said Adam, “Why don’t you make yourself more comfortable and let me take a look at you while I prepare myself for action, for after all that is why I have got you here.”

By making myself more comfortable he clearly meant me to get stripped and within seconds were both standing face to face, stark naked, looking each other over.  I have to say, Adam had a great body and a very nice neatly cut cock himself, which was already starting to rise at the sight of me. I was surprised to see that he was wearing a gold bar through his shaft, just below the knob of his cock. I forget the exact name for this type of piercing but he looked pretty good with it.  He smiled as he saw that I had noticed it and told me that he had had the bar for over ten years, having had his cock pierced when he was a final year college student. He and all his pals had decided to go for it as a sort of dare, and he still had it. “My wife, believe it or not, finds it very attractive,” he volunteered.

But by now, his eyes were totally focussed on me; glued to my cock, which was also starting its upward journey in the somewhat charged atmosphere in which it found itself; within a few seconds it was rock-hard and ready to go. I cannot begin to tell you how relieved I felt when I saw how hard I had become. I have already mentioned that a man’s penis has a mind of its own; my worst immediate fear had been that suddenly, when push came to shove, it would decide, quite unilaterally, that it did not wish to perform, would refuse to budge and would hang there like a limp rag between my legs. In spite of this fear think that I managed to maintain an outward impression of calm control as if this was just another every-day job; and as far as Adam knew, it was; but in spite of and all stations go indication from my cock, I confess that my heart was racing.  So, screwing up my courage I asked Adam, as he was the client, what exactly how would like me to do to him.

“Gee” he said, I had no idea just what a gorgeous looking stud you would turn out to be, but now I see you, my wildest dreams are already exceeded.”

“Adam,” I said, “don’t go overboard just yet as you are just looking at me and I have not actually done anything for you. Wait and see how you feel once you have experience some action with me. Now, what would you like me to do for you? You said you wanted anal stim; just how would you like it?  I do not do anal rimming, but everything else goes.”

The business about rimming, I suddenly pulled out of the air. I knew from my internet researches that lots of gay guys licked each other’s anuses, but even without trying it, I found the idea quite repulsive.  I had never sucked another guy’s cock, until I met  Craig and Mike. Craig ahd done me the honour of sucking and I could see myself sucking a client’s tool; but licking his fuck-hole? No way!

“Well, said Adam, “You are the pro, so what do you suggest?  I would like to take a really thorough pounding from you as my arse is just aching to feel a cock inside it and you truly have one of the finest tools I have ever seen.  How long is it, nine or ten inches?  I simply cannot wait to let you loose on me.” 

So again I asked him how he would like me to take him, and I told him that in my personal view the best deep anal fuck was to be had by my entering him from the front, with him flat on his back on a table, but it he preferred a rear entry, then that was also fine by me. That was, of course, the way I had always fucked Charlie.

“You’re the pro, so let’s try it as you suggest.” he said.  

So, Adam thought that I was a pro! So far so good!

As I said earlier, Adam’s office seemed to have several rooms and he motioned for me to follow him into the room next door, which was clearly a meeting room in the centre of which was a large heavy table.  He promptly lay down on his back on the table and looked at me for further instructions.  It was obvious now that I was in command of the situation and that he would do my bidding.

“Lie on your back and put your feet up on the table and spread you legs so that I can give you an internal a pre-lube.” I said. I had brought my satchel with me and fished out one of Craig’s injector tubes of lube

Adam looked on in wonder and said, “None of my other contacts has ever proposed anything like this.”

So, with great conviction as though it was an act I had performed many times before, I told Adam that I believed in safe sex and that I always used a condom with my clients even when I knew they were HIV free.

“I am,” said Adam, as if to reassure me.

“So am I,” I said, “But nevertheless I always use a condom with my clients; safe rather than sorry is my motto.” 

So, I very gently eased the nozzle of the lube tube through Adam’s sphincter and squeezed the lubricant into Adam’s rectum.  Then, with Adam looking on, I opened a packet of Fuckit condoms, rolled one on to my rock-hard member and massaged the sachet of lube over it.  I also applied a little of the Fukit lube to Adam’s arse as I wanted to be sure that I could make a really smooth entry with my cock.

“You really are amazing,” said Adam, “I have had my arse fucked many times by several different guys, but never have I seen such careful preparation.” 

I told him that it would all pay off as he would soon see, as he was about to have the best and most comfortable fuck of his life. I tried to say this with conviction and I hoped that when it came to the crunch he would think so. 

“You know,” said Adam, I have never seen such a beautiful cock as yours; it is so big, but so beautifully balanced; come on let’s get started.”

Adam, did not know, of course, that I had recommended him my own favourite position and I do not think he quite knew how it was all going to work. So I stepped firmly forward, pulled his legs over my shoulder and slid him to the edge of the table so that I could get his hole in the very best position to shaft. 

“Force yourself straight into me,” said Adam, “I quite enjoy the pain of having my sphincter stretched suddenly.” 

So, I did as he requested and gave Adam the full length of my cock, thrusting down until my balls mated against his body. Then I started a very gentle rhythmic pounding, with ever increasing force and amplitude.

 “Don’t hold back” cried Adam, “I really like it very hard. Pound me as hard as you can it’s exactly what I want; don’t stop, it’s exactly what I want; just go on and on; I absolutely love it.” 

I quickly reached that stage of no return myself, where I was also on a total high.  I finally pulled out my cock completely and re-thrust it into Adam’s hole as hard as I could, whereupon I climaxed with the longest and most intense orgasm I have ever had in my life.  I simply pumped and pumped more cum until the condom I was wearing could take no more and my cream started pouring out of Adam’s hole. At the same time he himself climaxed and shot thick gobbets of cum, over both our bodies. My god, it was quite an experience for both of us.

I remained on top of Adam, with my cock still deep inside of him for at least five minutes, whilst we both calmed down after the incredible climax we had both just experienced. 

Finally Adam said, “You know, Sebastian that is just the best fuck I have ever had in my life.  Never have I had such an orgasm or produced so much cum. You really are a top quality fucker, I would like to ask you to do it all again, but frankly, I do not think either of us could take it right now.” 

“Agreed.” I said, “You know Adam, I have fucked a hell of a lot of butt in spite of my young age, but I have never ever experienced anything quite like what we have just had together.  It will be the bench mark that I shall have to try to aspire to on all future occasions; I only hope I can.” 

It really was an exaggeration on my part to say that I had fucked a hell of a lot of butt, but after my experiences with Craig and Mike, I felt that my claim was not without merit as when had fucked them I had gone for broke and given them the hardest shafting I could muster. But, as ever, the proof of the pudding was in the eating, and Adam had clearly enjoyed every moment of our first encounter. So, it was a white lie and I felt no guilt.

Adam laughed and said, “Listen stud, let’s go and shower together and get cleaned up. There is a bathroom through there and we can both relax together.”

And that is exactly what we did. We stood under the hot water together for at least fifteen minutes. Adam ran his hands all over my body and finally dropped to his knees and gave my now soft cock a long and deep suck.  It was a moment to be savoured.  I could not believe how well things had gone. 

When we had both got dressed, Adam pulled out his wallet from his jacket pocket and said, “Three fifty bucks you said: well, here, take four hundred – you really are worth that and possibly more. I don’t know where you were before coming to New orkorkYork, but now that you are here, take my advice:  don’t undersell yourself. You are truly something special; very few guys have a cock to match yours and to judge from today’s performance, you are easily the best performer around.  You will easily build up a big following in the business community.  Believe me when I tell you that there are lots of guys just like me who are really quite straight, but who enjoy treating their arses to a good reaming from time to time. Can we say the same time and place, next week?” 

“Sure thing” I said and took my leave. 

I could not believe how well things had gone and how much not only he, my first paying client, but also I myself had enjoyed the experience.  I just had to acknowledge to myself that I enjoyed fucking butt; it was as simple as that! 

And, being paid to do something I enjoyed was really the frosting on the cake.

When I got back to Craig’s place that evening, I said, “Tonight, Craig, it is I who am taking you out to dinner, with champagne, as I want to celebrate with you and blow the first of my earnings, all of which are thanks to your foresight.”  And that is what we did. When we came back from the restaurant, both a little tipsy, Craig did not press me to service him, for which I was thankful and off we went to our separate beds.

CHAPTER 3

Next day, was Friday.  I picked up my business cards on my way to Mike’s and was in place behind the bar half an hour early.  What was truly nice as a newcomer to the bar was the fact that all four of the present bartenders made me feel very welcome.  I was not an outsider to be given the cold shoulder as might well have been the case, but was accepted as another colleague from the word go.  I got Mark to start explaining to me how some of the cocktails were put together, as I had no idea at all of where to begin.  

“Don’t worry,” he said, “Just look, here under the bar counter where there is a list of the most popular concoctions which our customers order, so you can always check the ingredients and quantities if you are unsure, and if a customer orders something not on the list, simply shout to me and say “‘One whatever it is, please Mark” and I will deal with the order. “It won’t take you long to learn,” he added. What a nice helpful guy!

I have to say that I hoped to hell he was right, as some of the drinks were quite complicated and involved five or six ingredients. We were soon in the mid-day rush and I had my work cut out to serve the customers quickly.  Towards the end of the rush hour, a well dressed man handed me his card over the counter and said, “Give me a ring will you, I have a proposition for you” and walked out of the bar.  I looked at the card and saw that this man was evidently the Chief Legal Advisor to some nearby company, whose name meant absolutely nothing to me.  Anyway, later that day I gave him a call and he asked me to come and see him in his office around four o’clock that afternoon, which I duly did and came away with my second commission, set for the following Monday afternoon at around three thirty.

“Four hundred bucks,” he said, “That’s fine, see you Monday afternoon.”

 I took the opportunity to leave him the very first of my business cards. “Sebastian,” he said looking at it, “A nice name.” And that was that.

I simply could not believe how easy it apparently was to find, or rather to be found by, guys who were willing to lay out top dollar for sex. Mike’s place was clearly a good place for picking up paying clients and Craig’s ideas had clearly been quite correct.

When I got back that evening, and told Craig about my second client, he simply said “I told you so; got to rush Sebastian as I have to get on my way upstate for the weekend.  See you late Sunday evening. Have a nice weekend.” And then he was gone.

It was Friday evening and I was alone in the apartment. Craig had gone off every Friday night to see his girlfriend, leaving me alone in the apartment, and for the first few weeks I had spent other Saturdays and Sundays, working off my shifts at Jonathan’s Gym. But now I was no longer employed by Jonathan and I had nothing either pending or planned. It gave me time, for the first time since I had arrived in New York some three months earlier, to reflect on what had happened to me, and how my life had suddenly changed; for the better as far as I could see. 

The most important thing was the meeting in the gym with Craig and the well nigh unbelievable series of events which that had unleashed, all of which had occurred in four brief days.  There had been my first sexually charged encounter with Craig: a very enjoyable experience and one which I had been happy to renew during the course of the week.  But the highlight of our sexual liaison had been when, on our first encounter, I finally surrendered my anal virginity to Craig’s cock. After much apprehension what a relief that had been; it was something which I knew had happen but which I had been dreading; but thanks to Craig, I now felt perfectly comfortable with allowing another guy to have anal sex with me; I finally felt that I had arrived as a fully sexually experienced gay man. 

At the end of the day I wondered what I had been frightened of; for I found immediately that I really enjoyed having my own butt fucked. But looking back over the past few weeks, I had found it hard to believe that I had had so much sex in such a short time; but I had thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it!

Whilst sitting there musing to myself over recent events, I realised that I had no true best friend of any long standing. What friends I had made a school had just disappeared from view when we all left Sheldon for the last time.  There was no one at all with whom I kept contact; my close school buddies, Charlie Tennant and Toby Devlin-Smith, were just memories. I had no idea where either of them were or what they were doing; yet it was only a few brief months since we had all left Sheldon together.  My schooldays were over and were in the past and were already almost forgotten, along with dear Aunt Agatha. I did just wonder what she would think of my life in New York. I wondered if she had any concept of the idea of a gay man; a man who frequented other men rather than a woman; I really did wonder; but I would never have an answer as I never saw her or heard from her again.  I did not feel I was missing out on anything, to be quite honest.  Blood, we are told, is thicker than water; but in her case, I think that the blood had totally coagulated in her veins and there was nothing at all to expect by way of a relationship with my only living relative.

I had just met Craig and we seemed to get on well together; we just hit it off, as the saying goes; it was as simple as that. Then, thanks to Craig I had met and now worked for Mike and we had also got on together with no problem;  but I had no one to whom I could talk to about my innermost thoughts.  I wanted desperately to find a partner with whom I could finally say that he and I were an item. But how did one find such a person? Was it chance or destiny, whatever that means ?  Philosophically, I thought, “Well, you are not doing badly at the moment and you are not unhappy, so why worry? Revert to your Mr Micawber posture and hope that something will turn up; which, as you will see later in this story, it did.

CHAPTER 4

It was about six thirty on Friday night when suddenly my cell phone rang; I wondered who on earth it could be as I knew hardly anybody in New York.  I answered and a man with a highly cultured voice asked me if he was speaking to Sebastian. I told him he was.

“Well, Mr. er er.” he stuttered.

‘Just Sebastian will do,” I replied, “That is what everyone calls me.”

Now this was a spur of the moment fib as I had already decided that if my male escort business ever truly took off, I would just be Sebastian to my clients with the only contact a mobile telephone number and no one would ever know where I lived or who my friends were.

“Well, er, Sebastian; I am the private secretary of Monsignor Gandolfi, who is the person in charge of the St. Saviour’s City Mission, with which establishment you are no doubt familiar.” 

He was already beginning to sound as pompous as Woody Prick had done at school and gave that same superior ponderous intonation to everything he said. I guessed that I was speaking to someone who was accustomed to addressing everyone except his most intimate friends, with their full title;  I could hear from his hesitation that he was having difficulty in addressing me as Sebastian; it just made him feel uncomfortable. Well, I had never heard of St. Saviour or his mission, but I let that pass and listened to him as he went on.

“Monsignor Gandolfi wonders if you would be kind enough to spare him a few moments of your precious time, as he has a number of things he would like to discuss with you, He has heard of you from a mutual acquaintance (from whom, I wondered) and, in the light of what he has learned about you, feels that you may well be able to help him resolve a problem which is bothering him.” 

My god, I thought, all this flowery language to tell me that this man of the cloth is looking for someone to fuck him, for that was my immediate reading of the situation; in what other way could I conceivably help this guy?  This conversation was so completely different from the very direct, brusque sort of way I had perceived New Yorkers used to touch on what was, after all, a rather tricky subject with someone unknown; and via an intermediary to boot. 

So I said “What exactly does Monsignor Gandolfi wish to see me about?”

The voice continued. “Monsignor Gandolfi, has merely charged me (again this archaic language) to try to arrange a suitable appointment for you to meet him and it is not for me to say what he wishes to discuss with you.  Might a meeting be possible, do you think?” 

Taking the bull by the horns I said. “Yes of course, what day and time did he have in mind?”

Gandolfi’s secretary droned on, saying, “Monsignor Gandolfi is, as you will realise a very busy man and is more or less totally occupied with his pastoral duties during the day.  I wonder, therefore, if I might ask you whether and evening appointment might be possible?” 

This was all getting so long winded, so I said, rather abruptly. “OK; what day and what time?” 

But my brusqueness did not have any effect on the long winded, verbal trajectory which this character was intent on following.

“Well,” he said, “It is now just before seven o’clock and Monsignor Gandolfi wonders if you might possibly be able to see him some time this evening.  It really is most pressing matter he wants to discuss with you.”

So there it was, this cleric wanted it now, if not sooner.  I adopted a somewhat loftier tone and asked the man to hold the line whilst I checked my non-existent engagements book. I then told him that I was, in fact free as I had had a cancellation of a previous appointment for later that evening and that if he would kindly give me the address where I could find Monsignor Gandolfi, I would try to be there by seven thirty. 

I am sure that I heard a vague sigh of relief from my interlocutor: a sort of mission accomplished sigh; but he nevertheless went on in his wordy way to thank me profusely for my understanding and gave me the address and the nearest subway station.  What a horrible job, I thought; having to act as a pimp for your boss, for I was dead certain as anyone could be what was going to happen.

So in the subway, I tried to collect my thoughts together and decide on how I would address a Monsignor.  I had not the slightest idea of the hierarchy of the Catholic Church, and I had sort of assumed that a Monsignor was part of that establishment, but frankly if asked to swear on it, I could not have done so; I admit to being basically a total ecclesiastical ignoramus.  I had not the faintest idea of how one addressed a Monsignor.  I wondered about Your Holiness but then I remembered that that honorific was reserved for the Pope; of that I was sure. So was it your Eminence, your Reverence, or Reverend or simply Monsignor, or could one say Your Grace?  I finally opted for Your Grace, as it had a nice ring about it, although I had not a clue if it was right or not. 

I arrived on time at the address, which turned out to be a rather imposing New York brownstone house, where I was let in by a female house keeper, who ushered me into the presence of the great man himself. One thing I had definitely decided on the subway journey, was that if the meeting was, as I strongly suspected, to do with providing this senior cleric with sex, I was not going to take any humbug from him.  From the way his secretary had addressed me over the phone, I realised that I was entering a very formalised and pompous, wordy environment; but, young though I might be, I was determined not to allow myself to be intimidated by it.

Monsignor Gandolfi was seated behind a massive desk and was wreathed in the sort of tent-like garments one always associates with the clergy, when it wishes to be formal.

“Welcome, my son,”  he began (with that as a beginning, I was already feeeling I was going to hate the whole thing), “Thank you for coming to see me on such short notice and so late in the evening, but the matter was rather urgent as my secretary has probably told you.”

“What exactly did you want to see me about, Your Grace?  (that seemed to go over smoothly, right or wrong).”  I replied.

“Well, my son,” (I winced internally to myself) he went on, “I was talking to a mutual friend (what mutual friend I asked myself) earlier today and he told me that you had rendered him a very delicate service for which he was extremely grateful.” 

“And what service might that have been,” I asked. And then it suddenly dawned on me: it was Mike, my boss, who had mentioned my name to this character. Mike was Michael O’Connor, an Irish catholic of course! That was surely it; it just had to be!

“Well, my son, (I was rapidly wishing he would drop the my son bit as it was driving me around the proverbial bend) it really is concerning a very delicate matter and I hardly know how to begin to broach the subject with you.”

 I decided to take the bull by the horns and make stab in the dark and said, “What exactly did Mike say about me?” 

His Grace did not realised that I had hoodwinked him into revealing his source of information, and went on in his platitudinous way to say that Mike had indicated to him that I had performed a very intimate service for him, for Mike that was, and that perhaps I could do the same for the Monsignor.  So there it was.  Mike had revealed all to Gandolfi, who now wanted me to fuck him exactly as I and suspected from the word go.

I thought before going any further I would play a cat and mouse game with His Grace before letting him off the hook, so to speak, and said, “What intimate service did Mike actually say I had done for him?” 

I could see from his face that Gandolfi was having a hard time to put into polite words what he clearly knew I wanted to hear. There was a slight pause whilst he collected his thoughts and decided what to say.

He finally managed to formulate a circumlocutive sentence and said: “Well, Mike told me that you had been able to calm him down by administering certain stimulating actions on your part.” 

Once he had got so far, I decided to cut to the chase with the coup de grace and said totally brutally, “Oh, is that all? Mike just told you that I fucked his butt did he?  Did he not tell you that he had a return round and gave me the same treatment?  Yes, we had a great time, as we spent a good part of the afternoon together. He’s a really good operator with his cock is Mike.  I really enjoyed the reaming he gave my butt.” 

This truly was a ‘Schadenfreude” moment for me: an instant where one takes pleasure in the misfortunes of another; but the moment I had uttered these words, I was filled with remorse and shame at what I had said, which were not the words of a gentleman; and, even though I was gay and selling sex, I nevertheless still considered myself a gentleman; for with all its faults Sheldon Academy inculcated into its pupils a sense of right and wrong and of correct behaviour towards others.  Why had I gone so dreadfully wrong and strayed from straight and narrow? What had I gained by rubbing Gandolfi’s nose in the dirt and making this elderly man feel utterly wretched?  I wished in retrospect that I had thought before speaking; but what was said could not be unsaid and I had to live with myself.  I can tell you that at that moment I felt as wretched myself as I had clearly made Gandolfi feel.

 

Poor Gandolfi, had not had a clue now to get around to the crux of the matter and we were still not yet at the moment where he could actually put into words why he wanted to see me.  I could see him still wincing under my harsh words and wondering how he could force himself to tell me that he wanted me to do for him. Not surprisingly, it was just that he could not bring himself to say the appropriate words. So at that stage I felt I simply had to help him and to try to redeem myself in his eyes for my appallingly bad behaviour of a few moments ago.

So, I said, very gently, “Your Grace, am I to understand that you have called me here to ask me if I would administer some anal stimulation to you personally?”

“You put it so frankly and so directly,” he said, “But yes, that is what I want. It is against all my church stands for, but I just want some young man to stimulate me (the poor guy still could not bring himself to say: “to have sex with me”) to relieve my well-nigh unsupportable sexual tension, which is why I requested my secretary to ask you to come here this evening.”

So I said, again very gently: “Your Grace, beneath all your clerical clothing, there is a man and whatever your Church says, it will never alter the fact that you have the same sexual desires as any other man. You have nothing to be ashamed of.  I will be happy to service you to try to help you to relax.  Now, I do not know what you learned from Mike, but I am, in fact a Professional Male Escort, which is a polite way of saying that I am a professional copulator. I am a completely homosexual male who sells sex to other men to earn a living.  Now my fee for the type of service you require is $500 cash. I had screwed up my courage to ask for such a large sum.  Do you want to engage my services under these conditions and if so, when do you want me to render my services to you?” 

“$500 is perfectly acceptable,” said Gandolfi and immediately opened a drawer of his desk and handed me five one hundred dollar bills, “And I would like you to work on me right now: I just need some immediate sexual relief.”

As we moved off from his office into another adjacent room, where there was a day bed and a table, and I started to strip off. 

He took in my nakedness and said, “My goodness Sebastian, you are an amazing young man and I have to say that you certainly appear very well equipped for the job to hand.”

I will end the story of how I fucked Monsignor Gandolfi here, without going into the finer details of our coupling, in which I finally delivered him from his sexual frustration, except to say that Gandolfi urged me on to pound him as hard as I could as that was what he wanted; so I took him at his word and gave him my all. I think he enjoyed my ministrations but I know I certainly did: the old boy was, at the end of the day, a great fuck! The fact that he was old enough to be my father – or possibly even my grandfather – did not seem to matter at all. He was just another human being in need of some sexual relief and I was happy that, at the end of the day, I had been able to help him.

Before leaving I said gently to him, “Your Grace; you now know what I can do for you and you know my fees, so if you want us to meet again, just call and we’ll make an appointment. Don’t feel embarrassed in calling directly. I fully understand your sexual needs and you can rest assured that knowledge of our liaison will go no further.”  And I have to say that I truly meant what I had just said. I really wanted to redeem myself for the way I had verbally mis-treated this older man, for which behaviour I felt utterly ashamed of myself.

Then to my utter surprise Gandolfi said, “You know Sebastian I am infinitely grateful to you for what you have done for me this evening and what I would like to do is to arrange a regular meeting with you, say twice a month on a Friday evening, as tonight; and your fees are quite acceptable.  I am only happy that I have found someone who can meet my needs, a task which you have, this evening, admirably fulfilled.”

And with that regular booking for my services, I left.  But you know, I was still wondering about the correct form of address is for a Monsignor; Especially when a young stud like me has his cock stuck up the old boy’s fundamental orifice.

On the subway going back north, I reflected on what I had just done, How did I, a young guy not yet twenty years old, feel about copulating with a man old enough be my grandfather? Well, once I got started, the age difference seemed not to matter; I was just fucking another man as I had done before, no more, no less, and as far as I was concerned the fact that I was servicing an older man made no difference.

I was relieved that I had clearly redeemed myself in Gandolfi’s eyes for my quite unforgivable behaviour; and I suppose that the proof of the pudding is in the eating and I had come away from Gandolfi with a regular order for my services!  I arrived home feeling quite relieved that I did not have a black cloud hanging over me: conscience can be an uneasy companion!

CHAPTER 5

Saturday morning dawned and I realised that since starting my job at Mike’s Bar, I had not been back to the gym and I truly felt that I needed a workout: so I decided that I would go over there this morning and see what I could arrange with Jonathan. I had more or less resigned myself into becoming a paying client at the gym where I had been working until just a few days previously. 

I had just packed my things together to leave, when the phone rang and it was Mark, my bartender buddy from Mike’s. “Sebastian, I completely forgot to tell you in the rush yesterday, but I am having a party at my place tonight to which you are invited. It will be quite a hot evening, if you get my meaning; all the guys from Mike’s will be there and a few others whom you do not yet know, but as a newcomer to New York it will help you fit into the community. Not to mince words, we are all of us gay and I thought that you could meet some other guys socially and have a relaxed evening.  Bring a bottle, and come around nine o’clock.” 

Mark left me his address and phone number and I saw that he lived not far from from where I had had my place on the upper West Side; so, I had Saturday evening fixed up.  For all my rapid progress into the New York sex scene I have to say that I had never been to a gay party before.  Prior to my arrival in New York, my sex life had been exclusively with Charlie. Since then, apart from my newly acquired clients, it had been limited to Craig plus a one-time stand with Mike and the totally unexpected liaison with Gandolfi. So I was curious to see what a young gay party would be like; would it be my scene or not and would I meet anyone with whom I thought I might have some sort of an affinity? Well it was a sort of suck it and see occasion, about which I had not the slightest preconception. If you can believe it for a man of my orientation, I had never actually been to a gay party.  My only experience in the general company of other unknown gays had been my putative venture into gay bars after my arrival in New York; and that I had not enjoyed at all; it just was not my scene. So would this party be the same?

Saturday morning was a quiet time at the gym, and Jonathan greeted me like a long lost buddy. “Go ahead he said, feel free to work out.” And with that, he left me to it. I had the place almost to myself until, about thirty minutes later, Jonathan suddenly reappeared, stripped off his T shirt and started to exercise next to me.  I could see that his eyes were fixed on me, especially on my crotch, where my cock was making a tantalising bulge in my thong.  Jonathan himself had a superbly proportioned body, not that over-muscled look of the dedicated body builder, but that of a guy who liked to look good and took the necessary exercise to maintain what he had got. As for his cock, I could but speculate, as I had never seen him naked, but to judge from the bulge in his training shorts, there was nothing lacking in that department either. All in all, Jonathan had the perfect figure to be running a gym and moreover, looked like a very exciting sex prospect. 

Towards noon I stopped and went off to get a shower, only to be followed a few minutes later by Jonathan, who took the shower next to mine.  I could now take in the full physical profile of this stud and I have to say what I saw made my cock start to stir.  Jonathan had a superb body, but as for his cock, which I was seeing for the first time, well this was also perfection.  It was not as long as my own weapon, but it was perfectly proportioned.  Beautifully cut it culminated in a superb knob with a very well defined rim, a feature I had always liked; the whole thing was pulled together by the fact that he was wearing a triple cock ring. This ring, which is to my mind the best type of cock ring on the market, made one united whole of his cock and large balls.  It was absolutely stunning and I can tell you that I was already beside myself with desire.  Just looking at him gave me a real release of adrenalin and I guess that the effect showed.

Jonathan looked at me and said: “You know Sebastian, I wonder if you realise just what a magnificent guy you are.  I have been watching you for some time now, along with all of my customers who happen to be working out at the same time as you. Do you realise that you have a magnetic effect on everyone who sees you, gay or straight; I can tell you that even the guys who have never actually seen your cock, other than in your training thong, just looking at you makes them horny. You know, a man’s cock is piece of uncontrollable flesh. (Did I not know that!!!) Well one look at you proves the point, for your cock started on its upward journey as soon as I stepped into the shower with you. I reckon that tells us both something.”

Jonathan concluded his comments with a laugh, was but repeating what Craig had already told me several times: that I was something special with a magnetism which just drew other guys towards me.  I was beginning to realise that they might be right. I knew I looked good, but what made me so different from other guys?  I clearly had some sort of personal magnetism, but I could not for the life in me figure out what it was. I was a good looking guy with with an attractively big cock; but there were lots of others like me; or were there?  What was it that made me different and attract other men’s attention so easily? I really had no answer, but anyway, I could see where we were heading with this our first encounter.

I said to Jonathan, “Well Jonathan, you are quite a piece of work yourself, you know. I really like what I am looking at right now; I have to say it’s all very attractive to the eye.” And, having, with that, concluded out mutual admiration remarks, we both left the shower room to get dressed.  I wondered what was going to happen next, as I had realised that we were not going to stop with the exchange of compliments we had just made.  It was quite evident to both of us, though as yet left unsaid, that we both wanted to fuck and how!

We dressed and Jonathan suggested that as it was now about 12.30 we go and get some lunch together, which we did.  There was a small lunch place just near his gym, which typically, for a Saturday lunch time, was almost deserted.  We sat at a table eating and I wondered what was going to happen next.  Jonathan, like most New Yorkers I had met in the brief period I had been in the city, came very quickly, brutally and frankly to the point.  “Sebastian” he said, “You have probably realised that I have not been able to take my eyes off you all morning. I think that you are just about the most sexually attractive hunk I have seen in ages and after finally seeing your equipment in the shower just now, I am in a state of excitement that I have not experienced for a long time. Frankly, I truly have the hots for you and you had better believe it.”  

Now, as I have said earlier, I found Jonathan equally attractive and I could feel my cock more than stirring as I looked at him, even more so than previously now that he had laid his cards on the table.  “Jonathan,” I said, “I have to tell you that the feeling is totally mutual. You must also realise that you too have a very attractive package, which I would not be averse to sampling.”

“Well,” said Jonathan, “as we seem to both be of the same mind, if you are free this afternoon, how about our going back to the gym and having a bit of action together?”

“No time like the present” I said and with that off we went. Again, I was surprised at the speed the guys in New York came to the point.  Jonathan was much like Craig and Mike and clearly wanted to get down to business as soon as possible.

I had never been other than in the public parts of the gym, but Jonathan took me upstairs into his office and living space, for it transpired that he lived on the premises. He told me that he was thirty years old and had inherited enough cash from his father, a successful lawyer, who had died relatively young and left his entire fortune to his only child: Jonathan; this had enabled him to open and run the gym free of any financial worries and lead the unattached bachelor life which he clearly liked. Like me, it turned out that he was totally gay and also, like me, unattached to any one person.  He had gay friends with whom he had sex quite frequently, but he had never found the right guy with whom he felt he truly clicked. Much like Craig, Jonathan, who had had a good education, turned out to be a very considerate guy. We discussed together what we both liked to do and we both had the same ethos about gay sex; that it was a mutual affair and that both parties had to achieve satisfaction from the coupling.  Like me, Jonathan was not interested in raping a guy just because he found him attractive.

“If I had been that way inclined,” he said, “I would have taken you in the showers just now, which is what my cock was telling me it wanted, but I can no more act like that than fly to the moon.” 

And so we discussed what each of us would like to do to the other, before we stripped of and got down to an afternoon of copulation. We began by my letting Jonathan fuck me in my favourite lying down flat on my back on a table.  As I took up my position, he spread my legs and looked at his target and whistled appreciatively. 

“Nice tight fuck-hole you have, Sebastian: just what I like.”  He went to a drawer and pulled out a packet of condoms one of which he rolled on to his huge hard cock which was now at least ten inches long as it stood to attention ready for action. I had to believe that the triple cock-ring gave it added stature as the cock and ball combination was now a formidable weapon.  He applied some lube and came across to me and made as if to start. 

“One minute” I told him, how about some internal lubing before you start drilling me.” 

“I have never heard of internal lubing.” he said, “How do I do it?”

I motioned to my satchel and had him extract one of Craig’s lube injector kits, which I told him to push up my arse and squeeze the lubricant into my rectum. “You will see, once you get started, that you will have one of the best and most comfortable fucks ever.” I told him.

Jonathan was much like Craig in his approach to my hole.  He started by very gently pushing the knob of his cock against my sphincter and when he felt it yielding to his pressure he firmly, in one smooth continuous thrust, gave me the full length of his shaft. If anybody had told me on a couple of months ago that I would allow a guy to shaft my arse with his ten inch cock, in the way I was now doing, I would have said they were mad. But here I was, actually enjoying being fucked by a guy I hardly knew, but with whom I had already established a certain spiritual rapport. 

My style is all of my own,” said Jonathan. “ I always start by very gently fucking my partner’s arse and gradually build up the amplitude and force of my strokes until I can withdraw my cock completely and then re-enter with great force.  I have found that this gives both my partner and me the greatest orgasm and I want to be sure that you too arrive at a great climax, which is something lots of guys having an occasional fuck forget.  I always try to remember that my partner of the moment is just as important as I am myself.”  

What a pounder Jonathan turned out to be once he got into his rhythm. He was a true master of anal fucking and I absolutely enjoyed ever moment of it.  I held my own cock out of his way and when we finally climaxed simultaneously I had a huge orgasm and shot forth an unbelievably quantity of thick creamy cum.  It was a very exhilarating experience. Even though it was Jonathan who had expended all the force to get us to where we were, we both were utterly exhausted at the end and needed a rest before going any further.

“That was really a great fuck, Sebastian.”  He said, as we relaxed together in a sort of post-coital daze. “What do you fancy next?  I would truly like to have you do the same to me as I am simply dying to take your cock inside me, but do you feel up to it?”  

“Give me ten minutes and I am your man.” I laughed, “Do I look like a weakling? What do you take me for? Come on, Jonathan, of course I am up to it, as I will now prove to you!” 

And so we reversed roles and I gave Jonathan what he wanted; except that he decided that he would like me to take him from behind, holding on to his buttocks as I serviced him.  It was just as successful and was a memorable ending to what had been an afternoon of utter pleasure for both of us. 

“Listen,” said Jonathan as we again showered together after our labours, “I am truly taken by you and judging from this, our first encounter, we make a very complementary fucking duo as we both like it all, which is to say to fuck and to be fucked.   Do you think that we could make a regular arrangement?  I need sex regularly as I think do you and it would be great to have a regular partner whom one knows is reliable and who has good equipment.  I don’t know anything about you, other than that you were a good gym trainer whom all the clients liked, but I thought that perhaps if we could get together a on Saturdays, when things are a bit quieter and perhaps a perhaps one evening a week.  And, additionally, I would let you use the gym for free. So, how about it?” 

Well, what should I have said? What would anyone have said to such a great offer? Sex in New York seemed to be there for the taking and what with Craig’s kindness in providing me with free accommodation (and what accommodation!) and getting partially tied up with Jonathan on Saturday’s whilst Craig was away to see his girl friend, I truly found myself on a high. . And, as a plus, I had free access to a gym, which was a facility I desperately needed. And so, of course, as anyone in his right mind would have said; I said OK.  

A little later, back at Craig’s place  I thought to myself, that in the space of one week, I had found three terrific sex partners, all of whom I liked  and I did not need to go looking around dingy gay bars for casual recreational sex, which is what I called it.  I had Craig and now Jonathan and, I felt pretty sure, Mike would be a repeat partner now that I was working at his bar fulltime.  I was certain that he would want more; and I was right, of course, as you will learn shortly. 

What an extraordinary week I had had so far and it was not yet over, as tonight I was invited to Mark’s party, which would be a first for me, for as I said earlier, I had never been to a gay party.  In fact, looking back on my school career, I have not really been to many parties of any kind. What, I wondered, was it going to be like.  Would it, in fact, be what is commonly called a fuckfest?  Well I would soon know.  I just hoped that I would be physically up to it after my afternoon’s activities.

CHAPTER 6

It was about nine thirty by the time I got round to Mark’s place and I could hear loud music through the door as I rang the bell.  It was opened after a short pause by Mark himself, who stood there stark naked, his cock fully erect and clad in a condom glistening with lubricant.

“Glad you could make it’” he said.  “Come on in and make yourself at home. I’ll be with you in a few minutes as I am just in the middle of something right now.” 

Well, what Mark was in the middle of, was butt fucking his buddy, Dave, from the bar.  The whole room was full of naked studs all engaged in some form of sexual activity.  In for a penny, in for a pound I thought to myself and went into the nearby room to strip off, for I could see that was where all the other guys had dumped their clothes.  As I emerged naked into the main room, I got one loud wolf whistle from some guy I did not know and within seconds was seized upon by Jason and Dmitri who told me that the four of them from Mike’s bar had planned a special welcome for me, which they would execute as soon as Dave and Mark had finished fucking each other.

Meanwhile, Jason dropped on his knees in front of me, took my cock in his mouth and started sucking.  I then felt Dmitri push his hard fuck-stick up, my arse from behind me. And so it was that this pair gave me a foretaste of what was to come; I guess it is what you would call an evening of free-style fucking.

The fun really began when Mark and David joined us, for what these four studs had conjured up as their welcome gesture to me was a five man line up in which we all fucked each other simultaneously.  So, Dave, in lead position, took Jason’s cock up his arse, Dmitri shafted Jason and I shafted Dmitri, whilst Mark then shafted me. We all then pumped in unison as a chain of five studs joined together by our cocks.  Other guys stopped what they had been doing to applaud us.  When we all came, more or less together, Dave then went to the back of the line, thrust his tool up Mark’s arse and we then repeated the whole procedure.  And so it went on until we had come back to our original configuration.

As we continued the applause became louder and louder as the other guys, who had adopted the role of the audience to watch, cheered us on in what was a marathon fuck session.  I have to say, it was really quite an innovative idea and it certainly made a terrific party piece; but when it was over, I realised that although I  had, in fact, quite enjoyed it, this probably was not my scene.

What happened after that marathon multi-fuck, I have no clear idea.  I imagine that I was fucked by several of the other guys who were there, but I have no recollection at all of who did what to whom or for that matter what I myself did; I was just in sort of a haze.  Looking back on the party a little later, I realised that this type of promiscuous fucking session with guys I did not know and whom I would probably never ever see again, was just not part of my scene.  My workmate buddies from Mike’s bar had really done their best to make me feel welcome, but their scene was just not mine.  I just wanted to be careful not to offend any of them as they were all nice guys and had acted with the best of intention; but never ever again I told myself later.  I thought to myself that I was just a snob, which was probably true; but there it was; that is the way I am, so just accept it, I told myself; you cannot be all things to all people; you simply cannot walk away from your own shadow!

 

CHAPTER 7

I do not know by what means or at what time I got back to Craig’s place, but I was awakened in my bed by the insistent ringing of my phone, sometime on Sunday morning.  “Who the hell can this be?” I thought, at this time in the morning. “Who in fact, has my phone number as I do not yet know many people?”  Well the mystery caller turned out to be Mike, my boss and, to date, my one-stand sex partner.

“Hi Sebastian, good morning.” Mike began, “If you are a loose end today, I wondered if you would like to come down here to the bar and have lunch with me.  The bar is closed, of course, but I thought that I could cook lunch for us and perhaps later we could enjoy (just get this as a come-on) some quality time together.” 

So there I had it: an invitation to go down to Mike’s place and spend the afternoon fucking with him.   My god, how quickly things took off in this city.  Anyway, I decided that I would string Mike along a bit, and said to him, rather archly: “What exactly do you mean by quality time Mike?” 

A slight pause whilst he collected his thoughts.  “Oh you know, I thought we might commune together,” came the reply. 

“Commune together, what on earth does that mean Mike?  I know it’s Sunday, but there are limits.  What does one do when one communes with someone; is it a religious act?” 

By this time Mike realised that he was being sent up, laughed and said, “Sebastian, for goodness sakes stop being so obtuse and pissing me off;  I am inviting you here to lunch and to an afternoon of sex with me, as you know full well; so do you want to come or not? I thought that this would be an opportunity to explore our nascent relationship further.” 

“Well Mike, now that we have got that clear and I am unlikely to find myself getting drunk on communion wine, yes;  that sounds great, so I’ll see you around noon.” 

“Just ring the bar door bell and I will come down and let you in,” said Mike and that was that. 

So, there it was, Mike wanted to develop a closer relationship with me, to which I have to say I was not averse, as I liked Mike a lot and our first coupling had been very agreeable.  So things were working out extraordinarily well for me. It was truly incredible when I looked back to where I had been just a few weeks ago.  I really began to develop a very comfortable and settled feeling, all thanks to my meeting with Craig at Jonathan’s gym: what an important factor chance can be, for it had already completely changed my life in such a short space of time. If anyone had told me what would happen to me in New York, I would never have believed it.  But these few days had done much more; they had confirmed to me that I was a died-in-the-wool gay young man, who liked gay sex and that gay sex, one ways or another, would be an important aspect, if not the most important aspect of mf future life.

I got got down town just after noon and Mike let me into his place.  He was busy in the kitchen cooking lunch and just watching him I could see that he knew what he was doing. 

“Pour us both a drink,” said Mike, “There’s a bottle of white wine open in the fridge.” 

Whilst we were drinking and he was cooking, I decided to lead him up the garden path with what I had come to think of as the Gandolfi Affair; and so I said, “Mike, does the name Gandolfi mean anything to you?” 

He looked sharply at me and said, “Yes, I know a guy named Gandolfi, he is a sort of side-slipped Monsignor who runs an outfit called St. Saviour’s Mission, nominally a catholic place of prayer, designed to allow city business men to assuage their guilty feelings when they are in need of some form of spiritual guidance as a respite from their daily rush to make yet more money.  In the event, it has more or less turned itself into a non-denominational refuge for anyone who wants a moment of peace and quiet during the business day. It’s now a bit like one of those non-denominational chapels you see on airport concourses. Monsignor Gandolfi, as he is called, was appointed to run the mission by his bishop as a result of some sexual misdemeanour in his then parish.  You know, it was a way of pushing the guy to one side rather than defrocking him and kicking him out on to the street.  As far as I can see, no one much uses the mission and he himself has very little of any consequence to occupy his time. As a lapsed Irish catholic myself, I sometimes go round there and if he is around, chew the fat with him.” 

“So,” I said to Mike, “How does this Monsignor come to have my telephone number?” 

Mike winced and then started to try to explain to me how had somehow been inveigled into talking about gays and then somehow it had come out etc. etc. ad nauseam, a discourse which ended with “Sorry!”

So, I told Mike about the call from Gandolfi’s obsequious secretary and how I had actually gone round to see the Monsignor on Friday evening.  Mike was curious to know what  Gandolfi had wanted and I told him that after much beating about the bush it finally came down to the fact that the old guy wanted some anal stimulation. 

“So what happened?” asked Mike. 

So I said, “What I am going to tell you now is in the strictest confidence and must go no further, as I promised Gandolfi that our arrangement would be private; but as you are the instrument in bringing him and me together, I will tell you what happened.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die” said Mike, by way of a promise.

“Well Mike, what the hell do you think happened, just use your imagination? “I fucked the guy as that was why he had called me in.” 

“You mean that you actually shafted old Gandolfi.”  Said Mike with incredulity in his voice.

“I certainly did; and moreover, he paid me five hundred bucks cash for the service.” 

Mike looked thunderstruck but I went on and said, “Look Mike, underneath all that cassock business, there is just a human body, the same as you or I have and in spite of all the outward signs, this guy has exactly the same sexual needs as any other man.  So what’s the big deal?  The only thing I found a bit off-putting is that I did not really know how to address him, so I called him Your Grace, which seemed to go down well, but as I was pumping him, he kept saying, “Harder my son, harder, don’t hold back,” which I found very strange as here was I, not yet aged twenty, servicing a guy at least fifty years old.  Anyway, Mike, just for the record and as you are or were a member of the catholic church, just how does one address a Monsignor, especially when one is copulating with him?” And with that the subject came to an end.

Over lunch, (Mike turned out to be a really good cook, by the way) I told him about my earlier life life at Sheldon and my Aunt Agatha. He was full of admiration for my youthful prowess and how quickly I had found my feet in New York; but as I told him, I was in reality a very naïve young gay, as I had, until my arrival in New York a few short weeks ago, led a very sheltered life.  I told Mike that until that Monday, just a couple of months ago, when Craig picked me up in the gym, I had no experience at all of gay life in New York, or anywhere else for that matter.  My great breakthrough had been meeting Craig in Jonathan’s gym and what had resulted from that. It was quite incredible that my life had changed so dramatically in the space of one single week.  I then went on to tell Mike, that until I met Craig, I had been an anal virgin and that Craig was the first guy who had actually fucked my butt.  I had been very apprehensive about the whole thing, I told Mike, but once it was done, I had a tremendous feeling of relief and I suddenly realised that I had, in fact enjoyed having my own hole reamed for the first time.

“So now you see Mike, when we had our first encounter, when I came here to talk about a job with you, you were only the second person ever to have had access to my fuck-hole and I have to tell you that I really enjoyed your ministrations.  So why do we not move on from lunch and, to use your words, spend some quality time communing together, for I am really curious to see what you think communing involves.”  And with that I closed with a laugh.

In Mike’s living room, he approached me and said. “Do you mind if I personally strip your clothes off of you.  I am just dying to give myself the pleasure of stripping you naked myself and then to having another look at you.  You know, an American poet, it might have been Ezra Pound, wrote a very brief one-line poem which goes something like this.

Crushed strawberries on a clean white cloth, come let us feast our eyes.

Well you are going to play the role of the strawberries and I am going to feast my eyes on you,” he said laughing.” 

And with that he came up to me and started to peel of my shirt: my pants and thong followed in swift succession and I stood naked in front of Mike, while he caressed my nipples, buttocks and cock.

“You really are something very special.” he said. “You have a superb body and a cock to die for.  My god, just look at yourself, any red-blooded guy would give his eye teeth to have a session with you and as for your cock, well just look at it: eight inches soft and already growing.  It’s a fuck-stick made in heaven: it just has to be the envy of any stud who sees it: gay or straight.” 

I was beginning to see that what Craig had said about me from the word go was evidently true.  For some reason I had obviously a certain magnetism which drew admiration from other guys who saw me.  Craig had said the same thing, echoed also by Jonathan and now Mike, so I began to realise that I had to start taking these remarks seriously. Clearly I had something that made me so attractive to other men; but as of now no one had actually told me what it was.  Craig had said that it was the key to my future life, but what the hell did the key consist of?  What did I have that hundreds of other guys evidently did not?

Mike now dropped on his knees and gave my hardening cock a really thorough suck.  “Try fucking my face,” he said, “And see if you can cum. Just pump gently and you will soon have an orgasm.” 

This was something I had never ever done before, but it was not unpleasant and I soon shot a wad of my cream into Mike’s mouth and all over his face.  Mike than stripped off and I had a chance to have, once again, a good look at him naked.  It was obvious that he looked after himself and worked out regularly in a gym somewhere, as he had a hard muscular physique and even though his cock was not as big as mine, it was nevertheless very attractive and must have measured nearly eight inches erect, which is how it now presented itself. 

And so we spent a pleasant afternoon together, with a reciprocal fucking programme. He first fucked me, then I him and so it we on. We spent about three hours together communing as he put it and a very enjoyable afternoon it was.  I was amazed how many times we both managed to cum; we both seemed to be able to produce an unending stream of sperm. Looking back on it now, I think it was without doubt one of the most relaxed and enjoyable occasions of my life: two young men enjoying each other’s body equally.

Finally in the shower, Mike soaped me up, and then took my cock in his hands, saying   “I just love your cock.  I cannot get enough of it.  You really do have an all time winner!” 

I said to him that he had surely had enough after all we had done to each other that afternoon, to which Mike, in his literary mode, came out with an observation penned by the Irish poet and playwright, Oscar Wilde, who on one occasion when someone implied that he was being greedy and voiced an opinion that surely he had had enough to eat, is reputed to have said,

“Enough is as good as a meal, it’s a surfeit that makes a feast.” 

And that is evidently what Mike wanted as he then spun me round and with one long smooth motion, thrust his rock-hard fuck-stick up my arse and gave me two or three long strokes, before withdrawing.  It was sort of a coda to the afternoon’s activities and brought them to an agreeable close.

I took the subway back north and thought over the day’s activities as the train rolled on its way and I realised that along with Craig and Jonathan, I truly liked Mike and could see myself having a regular relationship with all three guys.  I needed regular sex myself, that was for sure, and the experience I had had with these three studs had convinced me that this was the way I wanted to go with my life in New York.  The sort of free-for-all gay fuckfest, like the one my fellow bartenders had organised, was not part of my scene. Nor were the gay bars and the sort of casual pick-up one night stand one could find there. So I resigned myself to being thought of as a snob!

So, after two short months,  my life was heading in a pleasing direction  If anyone had told me on the day I first met Craig, that I would be where I was today, with the contacts and friends I had now made, I would have told them they were stark raving bonkers.  But there it was; it was all happening in the right way for me and I was eagerly looking forward to see what the next week would bring for me.  I had already had two paying clients and had another appointment lined up for Monday afternoon, so things really seemed to be moving speedily along in the right direction.

Looking back on the week, I made a mental note of the number of sexual encounters I had had since meeting Craig.  It was only when I started looking at my week’s copulating activities that I realised that I had more or less hopped from one fuck to the next; but I have to say that I had enjoyed every minute of it: Gandolfi included!

As the subway train rumbled on, I found myself reflecting on the extraordinary changes in my life since meeting Craig. I had not only been offered a decent place to live for the next year, rent free, but I had found a job, which I quite liked and I had already started building a client base for my Male Escort business. But equally importantly, I had found myself three partners, Craig, Mike and Jonathan, with whom I could have recreational sex and moreover, thanks to the ministrations of Craig, I had finally lost my virginity, which had been weighing on my mind as a handicap. As a result I had discovered that I enjoyed having my own butt fucked as much as I enjoyed fucking the next guy; and so I finally felt that I had arrived fully fledged onto the gay sex scene; I realised that I had finally come to terms with myself: with what I was: a young active gay man who was now totally happy in his skin.  I suppose that I should have felt exhausted after such a week of what was almost end-to-end copulation, especially after this afternoon’s marathon session with Mike; But in fact, I felt as fresh as a daisy, which was  just as well, as you are now about to learn.

CHAPTER 8

I got back to Craig’s place just before seven to find him already returned from his weekend with Caroline.  I realised immediately that something was wrong: very wrong indeed, for he looked totally depressed as he poured out everything to me.  Caroline and he had quarrelled about something or other, with the result that he had been given the cold shoulder by Caroline for the entire weekend.

“If you can believe it,” he said, “Caroline would not let me near her. She made me sleep in the spare room and so, here I am deprived of sex for two full days and I can tell you that I feel utterly depressed.”

“Cheer up Craig it’s not the end of the world, you’ll get over it. Come on, let me give your cock a little comfort and see if we cannot perk you up a bit.”

And with that, I simply stripped off, lay flat on my back on the table and looked over at Craig, who tore his clothes off and rushed towards me, his cock already rock-hard and in a state of pre-cum.  Out of the window went all preliminaries of lubrication and condoms, as Craig simply wanted to get his fuck-stick into my hole as quickly as he could.  It was the nearest thing to being raped Ihad experienced in my brief sex life; frankly, from anyone else but Craig, I would have cried foul and stopped there; but I could see that he was just so desperate to relieve his tension that I let him go ahead with the most vigorous pounding of my hole imaginable.

He thrust himself inside me without any thought for my comfort and then pounded me like a madman until he finally climaxed in a huge cum shot, which he splattered over both of us.  Craig uttered a cry of relief when it was all over but left his rock-hard tool still up my arse.  He leaned on me and moaned somewhat and then after a couple of minutes pause, during which neither of us spoke, he started pumping again and went on until he climaxed for a second time. This time, I managed to reach orgasm at the same moment and we both ended up smothered in a bath of hot, thick cum: his and mine! 

I marvelled at my own contribution to this little fuckfest as I had spent the entire afternoon with Mike, which I suppose I thought might have left me dry; but no, I shot a good wad of cum at Craig.  I wondered at the speed at which the human body could recover so quickly.  But sex is an enormous driving force and pushes men to extremes. Craig, ever the gentleman, thanked me profusely for being there for him and it was quite clear that had I not been around, he would have gone off to some gay bar to find himself any old fuck-hole to ream, as he had been absolutely at the end of his tether when came back to the apartment. 

“Sebastian, you really are the tops.” He said.  Again I wondered about his sexuality, as he clearly enjoyed male-male sex enormously; and I asked myself if he was not just deluding himself in marrying Caroline, when deep down he must have wondered if he was, in fact, like me, a homosexual.  But if what I surmised was true, Craig still had to reach the stage where he could acknowledge that fact to himself.  So we took a quick shower and went off to find some place to eat. Craig said, “When we get back, I’ll give you another round before we go to bed; you really did save my life tonight, Sebastian; the Lord alone knows what I would have done without you.” 

During the meal I brought Craig up to date on what had happened to me over the weekend, giving him a detailed run down on my non-stop copulating schedule since Friday.  I omitted the Gandolfi episode as I had promised him that our arrangement was confidential and would remain strictly between the two of us. Mike was the lonely exception to this pledge to Gandolfi, for it was thanks to him that Gandolfi and I had come together.

“Well,” said Craig, I told you that with your attributes it would be easy to build up a paying clientele , but I never thought in a month of Sundays, that it would be as easy as it obviously has been so far. My God, what a week you have had. It reads like a fairy story; congratulations on your success!” And with that we went back to the apartment and took up again where we had left off. 

The vigorous way in which Craig exercised his fuck-pole on me led me again to wonder if he did not like men more than women. I could tell that he was hugely enjoying reaming my hole and that whilst he was fucking me, all thoughts of Caroline had vanished.  He was happy again and it showed.  He had told just after we met for the first time, that on his marriage he would stop fucking other men; but seeing the pleasure he got from fucking me, it was already beginning to reinforce my doubts about his true sexuality.  I was becoming more and more convinced that Craig would soon have to face facts and acknowledge that he was, like me, totally gay.  I have to admit I had had the same thoughts about my boss, the newly divorced Mike, for he obviously enjoyed male-male sex much too much to ever be able to give it up. 

My intuition told me that both of these guys would ultimately be forced to acknowledge to themselves that they were 100% gay.   I was glad that I myself was not caught up in such a web of doubt and indecision, for I had known from my early teens that I was totally gay.  I did not dislike the company of women, but let’s face it, at school I had had little, if any, opportunity to frequent the opposite sex; but I knew quite clearly in my own mind that I never wanted to have sex with a woman, however attractive: it just was not me!  And it is for just that reason many women prefer a gay escort when they go out and about, as they feel quite secure with him as they know that he will not try to rape them.

Anyway, when Craig had finished his postprandial attention to my arse, he lay down on the table and allowed me to shaft him.  “Make it good and hard,” he said, “I can really use it.”  So I did exactly as he asked me to do and I enjoyed it as if it were my first fuck of the day.  I have to admit that I was still amazed at the stamina which I clearly had. 

Thus ended my first week as a paid employee at Mike’s bar and a nascent Male Escort.  I felt very, very lucky with my lot in life and wondered what power had ordained that things should happen the way they had.  Even non-believers, to which group I belong, say: “Perhaps it just was meant to be” about a series of unexpected events. I can only say that I was glad that it had had to be the way it was.

 

CHAPTER 9

So now here I was, facing my second week as barman a Mike’s place, with an appointment to service a city businessman on Monday afternoon, just one week after my debut on the New York copulation circuit. In spite of this firm appointment, and success to date, I wondered if luck would still be with me.  But in fact my worries were unfounded, for just as Craig had prophesied, my second week at Mike’s bar produce another crop of visiting cards from men asking me to give them a call; and so it went on from there, week after week.  Within a month of starting a Mike’s bar, I was servicing three or four paying clients a week, usually during the afternoon hours when I was off duty in the bar.

On the odd afternoon where I had no client appointment, Mike used to invite me upstairs to his apartment to spend some quality time together.  He and I really got on very well together, and we both appreciated having an agreeable in-house partner to fuck.  I asked myself why he never had sex with any of his other young employees behind the bar, as they were all gay; but he never did; and so more and more, I began to believe that I was, in reality, someone special. Some evenings I had a client appointment, in which case I got back home late.  I had started to think of  Craig’s apartment as home, as it was, for me, the only home I had ever really known since I was eleven years old and had been packed off to the Sheldon Academy by Aunt Agatha.  I knew that with Craig’s plans for marriage, it could not last much beyond the end of the year, if that, but for that brief period, it was truly a home for me. 

Craig wanted sex with me as often as I could give it to him; and as time passed his ever increasing enthusiasm for copulating with me further reinforced my view that he would, ultimately have to admit himself that he was really a true gay and drop all ideas of marrying Caroline.  But as we shall see later on, it did not happen at all like that;  which is unfortunate, for as events took their course, they led to a lot of grief, which could have been avoided if Craig had only had the courage to look at himself firmly in the face and  accept his true self; but he did not, and things just went on and as such things do, got steadily worse.  I did not personally mind, as I enjoyed sex with Craig just as much as with Mike, or for that matter with Jonathan, who became a regular sporting fixture after my Saturday morning workouts at his gym.  But it saddened me to think that Craig was heading towards disaster.  I could only hope that I was wrong, but I doubted it. However, applying the principle: least said, quickest mended, I refrained from making any comment on what seemed to me to be Craig’s rush towards disaster.

My own life in New York continued developing and my client base grew steadily, until towards the end of the year I finally had to tell Mike that I would be leaving my job as barman.

“I have been expecting it for quite a while,” he said, “As I could see from the beginning that working here would just be a stepping stone to greater things for you.  You know, Sebastian, as I have told you so many times when we have been fucking each other, you have an amazing physique and a cock to die for, which you wield like a true professional, which I suppose you have now become; but over and above that you have that amazing magnetism which emanates from you, even when fully clothed, which is totally irresistible to other men, gay or straight. When you are behind the bar, all eyes are on you and you had better believe it.  Anyway you are not leaving New York and I guess that our quality-time moments together will still continue.”

“You can bet on that for sure, Mike,” I replied, with utter sincerity, “I would really miss the time I spend with you. I think we are great together and would be loath to lose you as a partner. I really enjoy the times we spend communing together (I could never resist needling him with that word) and I consider myself lucky to have met you.” 

It was then that Mike made an amazing admission to me; something which, as I mentioned earlier, I thought that he would ultimately have to admit to himself. “You know, Sebastian that I told you my wife had divorced me because of what I euphemistically described as my extracurricular activities.  Well, since I started practising these activities with you, on a regular basis, you have brought home to me something which I should have admitted to myself ages ago; I finally realised that I preferred fucking men over women and I have at last acknowledged to myself that I am, in fact a 100% homosexual.  You know, Sebastian, that this is one of the great things you have done for me via our relationship and one which I shall be forever grateful to you.  I now realise that I have to find a male life-partner and not kid myself into thinking that I should go after another woman: it is just not to be.   I need a permanent partner, but it has got to be another man.” 

I have to say, that I was not at all surprised to hear this confession, the content of which, as I mentioned earlier, I had sort of divined.  As time passed I have become ever surer that Craig would ultimately come to the same conclusion about his own sexuality.  I had just known that with the vigour with which Mike applied himself to our relationship that he was as gay as I was and I was happy for him that he had finally come to terms with his true sexuality.  As for Jonathan, he did not have to face up to a sexuality uncertainty: he knew he was 100% gay, just as I was; but I was not sure that he had decided that he needed a permanent  partner in life, for he seemed completely happy as a lone ranger.

Towards the end of the year, I told Craig that in view of his impending marriage to Caroline, I thought it best that I should find a place of my own and move out of his apartment. I felt that the coast should be completely clear for Caroline, whom I had never actually met, for Craig spent all his weekends with her in upstate New York and she had never, in my presence been to his apartment, where they intended to start their married life together. But I still felt that disaster for the two of them was on the non-too-distant horizon. However,  to  remain in the apartment with Craig, I felt might muddy the waters for him; he had become my very best friend and so I thought it best to find a place of my own. With my regular earnings from my escort business, I could easily afford to rent a decent place; and as ever, Craig came up trumps and helped me to find an apartment, which turned out to be not far from his own place. Craig was one of the very few people who ever knew exactly where I lived.  I had long since decided that my private life was just that and that I wanted neither Mike nor Jonathan, close friends though both had become, to know my exact whereabouts; all they and my clients had was my cell phone number.

Before the end of the year, Craig and I took a brief vacation down in Florida.  He knew of a nude male beach where we could lounge about in the sun and swim and, if we felt like it, which, of course we did, fuck.  It was sort of a stag occasion for Craig, before he finally renounced gay sex, which he continued stoutly to insist that he would do; but I thought than that he was deluding himself, for after the best part of a year together, I was more or less totally convinced the he was, like me, 100% gay and that sooner or later he would have to face up to the fact and live with it.

But the charade with Caroline, which is how I had begun to think of it, went on and they married in early January. Craig asked me to be his best man, an honour, which I respectfully declined as I felt that to accept would be sailing too close to the wind for comfort.  In fact, I told Craig that in spite of our close friendship, I thought it better if I did not even attend his wedding, which he eventually grudgingly accepted.  I absolutely did not want to be the person to come between Caroline and him, for in spite of my misgivings, I desperately prayed that their marriage would be a success.

In fact, I had the pleasure of meeting her only once, at a party which Craig gave to celebrate his marriage and at which I was able to lose myself as just another friend of Craig’s in the crowd of other guests.  She seemed a nice sort of lady, and I prayed that it would all work out all right.  I did mention that Craig had told me that once married, our liaison and any others like it would cease, which he still firmly maintained would be the case; but I have to say that I still harboured doubts, which, alas, turned out to be correct.

My life in New York had now settled down into a routine.  I continued building up my clientele until by the middle of the next year I was servicing at least two clients a day, sometimes three, and making over $200,000 per year.  Most of my clients became regulars and I treated them all with great respect and care. My rough verbal treatment of Gandolfi, whom I serviced regularly, was still at the back of my mind and I vowed that never again would treat anyone in the way I had treated this elderly man and I would like to think that I had stuck to this vow. For the record Gandolfi became a regular client and we had a good relationship together. But each time I saw him, a momentary pang of remorse swept through me.  I would have done anything to take back what I had said to him that first evening. And, for the record, never having found out the true form of address, I continued to call him, rightly or wrongly, Your Grace, which I guess he actually liked.

I think that my success as an escort is that I did not treat the job as simply a question of sticking in my cock and reaming out my clients’ fuck-holes:  I was always meticulous in preparing them, which they much appreciated and once inside them, I always tried to ensure that each client managed to achieve a climax simultaneously with my own orgasm.  I became expert at holding back from my own climax until I saw that my client was going to shoot his wad and then I shot my own cum at the same time. It was all part of the philosophy that both parties involved, the fucker and the fuckee so to speak, should obtain complete satisfactions from the act. It is worth noting, that none of my clients were, in fact, gay, and pretty well all of them were happily married men, who just wanted an anal fuck from time to time, something their wives could not provide for them.  Their wives, for the most part, knew nothing of their mates’ peccadilloes, and marital harmony seemed to be the rule. Much of my clientele I got by word of mouth.  So within eighteem months of arriving in New York, I felt totally established and was as happy as a lone gay man could be.

In my private life, I still kept up my liaisons with Mike and Jonathan and, also, with Craig, who in spite of is premarital declarations to me about renouncing gay sex once he tied the marital knot, simply could not do without it. Craig would call me at my apartment and ask me if he could come round, a request I could hardly refuse; and once together, it was just like old times. We simply fucked each other, with gay abandon as we both enjoyed each other’s company enormously. As time went on, his visits became more and more frequent, until one fateful day, what I had long feared, happened: “It’s all over between Caroline and me; I cannot go on; she realises something is wrong and wants a divorce.   Listen, Sebastian, I hate to ask you this, but do you think that I could move in here with you temporarily, as I simply cannot go on living with Caroline?” 

Well, what could I say but yes, of course he could and for as long as he wanted. But what an extraordinary turn of events; Craig who had taken me in as a flat mate from my miserable apartment on the West Side and had helped and encouraged me to develop my present professional life, was now going to move in with me into my apartment, as my flat mate!  As the saying has it: what goes around comes around.  Anyway, no man could be more welcome in my house than Craig, who was truly my very best friend, which I guess I may have said already. I was just sad that his arrival was as a result of marital disaccord, but this I had foreseen long before it actually happened.

As when I had lived with Craig in his place, we were strictly flat mates. He insisted in paying me part of the rent and in spite of his ever growing need to fuck me, we remained strictly flat mates:  we never shared a bed and slept together.  Had I allowed him,  Craig would have shafted me and had me fuck him in return every evening and as time went on, the force he applied to drilling my hole increased, as if there was to be no tomorrow. 

His divorce from Caroline, on the grounds of incompatibility, was finalised by the middle of the year and he was again foot-loose and fancy free.  He had already started dating the odd girl he met when I felt that, as his best friend, I ought to try to bring home to him the truth about his own sexuality, which had become more and more obvious now that he was living under the same roof with me. This was not an easy subject to broach, but I felt as a friend I ought to tell him what I thought. 

So I pulled my courage together and said, “Craig, have you ever seriously thought about what gives you the greatest pleasure in your relationships with other people, such as Caroline and me?  This is very difficult for me to tell you, but from the way you have sex with me and the frequency with which you want it, make me think that you might be happier if you were in a fulltime relationship with another man, rather than married to another woman.”

“Just consider for a moment what happened to you and Caroline. When we met you told me that you were AC/DC and that once you were married you would cut out your liaison with other men and become a faithful husband to your wife. But look at what actually happened; the ink was barely dry on your marriage certificate and you were around here knocking on my door and wanting as ever to fuck me.  Your marriage changed nothing; you still wanted to have sex with me as we had done since the day we met. And as time went on your appetite for sex with me increased and increased until it was the driving force behind your life.” 

“Believe me Craig, I have been watching it happen, even before your tied the knot with Caroline.  The way you fuck me is with such intensity that I realized that this is what you want: sex with another man rather than a woman.  Craig you have over the past year or so, become my dearest and closest friend and it pains me to have to tell you what I sincerely believe to be the truth about yourself, which is that you are, in fact, exactly like me, a 100% homosexual.”  

Quite some speech, I thought and I wondered what his reaction would be.  I went on to say that it is sometimes difficult to see ourselves as others see us, but ever since I have known him, I had had a nagging suspicion as to where his true sexuality lay. 

“There is nothing to be ashamed about it,” I said, “It is simply a fact of life and no amount of talking will change that fact.  We are what we are and we have to learn to live with it.  Now in my case, I knew by the time I was sixteen or so that I was totally gay and so I have never had the hurdle of uncertainty to cross;  but in your case, I think that you should search your innermost self and try to decide once and for all where your sexuality lies: are you straight or gay? But do not hover between the two, for that is a recipe for disaster.” 

All this was coming from a younger man to his older friend; but I thought I was giving sound advice.

Craig had listened to this speech in silence looking ever more miserable as I went on.  He finished up with his head in his hands and wept: yes, he wept before me and then said, “Sebastian, you are really my truest friend and a courageous one to boot, to have dared to tell me what you thought; and you know, I think you are right.  I have long fought with my inner self as to what I was; but social convention made me marry Caroline because that is what most guys do. But from the word go, it was a failure. Once I was living and sleeping in the same bed with her, my sexual desire for her just melted away and I could think only of the times you and I had had together since we first met. In fact, I have always felt more comfortable having sex with another man than with a woman.”

He went on “And you know, Sebastian, although you are absolutely the very best fuck partner I have ever had, it is not you who are responsible for my present state, for I had had sexual relationships with lots of other men before we met: with Mike and with Jonathan to name but two. But there is something I have never told you, which I think you should know.  Since knowing you and having you as a flat mate, I gradually dropped off all my other sexual liaisons, so that, apart from the time when you and I and Mike and Jonathan have a little fuckfest together, you have been my only sex partner for the past year; I have had sex with no one but you.”

“Well,” I said, “As you know, I have sex with both Mike and Jonathan on a regular basis.   Mike was like you, thinking that he was AC/DC, but like you his marriage failed and now he has finally recognised that he is, in fact, like me, a confirmed gay.  Jonathan, who is a great guy and a marvellous fuck in all senses, is like me. He was lucky in that he knew from quite an early age that he was totally gay and that women were not for him.  Guys like you and Mike are the ones who face the biggest problem and their ultimate happiness depends upon their being absolutely honest with themselves and making the right choice. Do you think that you can do that?”

‘What I think I can do,” said Craig, “Is to strip you naked and give your tight little butt the best fuck you have ever had.”

And with that he grabbed me, pulled of my clothes flung me flat on the table and proceeded to give my arse the greatest pounding I had ever had.  It was the copulative equivalent of being beaten by my old Headmaster, Woody Prick. 

Craig then had me service him and he begged me to make as hard as I could, which I did, by which time both he and I were covered in cum and utterly exhausted. 

“That,” he said, “Was the greatest fuck I have ever had in my life: you really are the tops Sebastian, but I guess by now that you know that and I am only repeating what countless others have already told you.  You know, you are quite right in your analysis of the situation. You have made me realise today that I am totally gay and this should point the way to my future life.”

It was with great relief that I realised that the whole matter had gone so smoothly. I had hardly imagined that Craig would have reacted in the way that he did, but it was by now clear to me the writing had been on the wall for Craig himself and my words had merely acted as a catalyst to start him on the road to the acceptance of the truth.

“Come on” he said, bouncing back into a happier state, “Let’s shower and go out to dinner,”  which we did and Craig splurged on a bottle of champagne to celebrate his liberation from his inner doubts as he put it.

CHAPTER 10

Having got over that hurdle, it was now time for me to face my own inner problem, which had been growing on me for the past several months.  In my relations with Craig, Mike and Jonathan, and these were the only guys with whom I now recreational sex, I suddenly realised one day that I had never been truly intimate with any of them. 

What exactly do I mean by truly intimate? Well in terms of copulating with these guys, we never held back at all, but I personally, never actually kissed any one of my friends on the lips or slept in the same bed with any one of them together as lovers do.  Even when Craig and I had had our naked holiday in Florida, we had had sex aplenty, but we had always slept in separate beds. We caressed each others bodies, sucked each other’s cocks and, when we fucked, often got into a really tight clinch with one another. But, and it is a big but, I personally never made lip to lip contact with any of my three friends.

What they did among themselves, when I was not involved, I cannot say. But, for myself, I had never ever kissed any of my three sex partners, on the mouth.  It just seemed to me to be the most intimate of all the sex acts; ridiculous really, when you think of what we did to each other as we fucked butt and sucked cock; but there it was; it as the way I felt and saw things.  I never voiced this feeling to any of my three friends, but I guess each of them realised that this was an unspoken, no-go area when we had sex together; and to their credit, they never tried to breach the boundary; never could a young naïve guy like me coming to New York have found three better friends. But I knew and I guess they knew, that none of them were ever going to be joined at the hip with me and become what is usually called an item. Not one of them, and I just knew it, was the right guy for me long term. I knew I was just destined to remain a close and intimate friend to all three; but I equally knew that it would never go any further than that.

You might think that sticking your cock up another man’s arse hole and shooting him a dose of your sperm was as intimate an act as two men could perform together but I realised that the simple act of kissing was, in fact a much more intimate gesture than fucking a guy could ever be.  Fucking was a merely a means of releasing inner sexual tension. Men do it all the time with prostitutes for whom they had absolutely no spiritual feeling.   I had never ever wanted to kiss any of my three regular sex partners; nor I think, they me:  not even Craig, who was my closest friend. And as he had said right at the beginning, he and I were just flat-mates; albeit flat mates who liked to fuck each other; but flatmates nevertheless. And it was as flat-mates we remained until the day when I finally found the love of my life, but that is another story.

It was quite significant each one of the four of us lived alone.  We socialised with each other and copulated together like rabbits but at the end of the day beyond the physical sex acts we performed together, we had no true spiritual relationship other than that which exists between good friends.  I would have done anything to help Craig, but did I want to share a bed with him? The answer was no.  And I had to believe that none of them wanted to go any further with me or for that matter with any other partners they had.  But, of course, what they did when I was not present was their affair.

As far as I could see, none of us had any true intimacy, as I define it, with each other; and in my case I had no true intimacy with any other human being.  Simply put, not one of us had found our life’s partner.  The fact that we all fucked around with each other without any note of proprietary jealousy being aroused in any of us, seemed to me a sure sign that we were just good friends but no more; not one of us felt he had sole rights to any of the others’ fuckholes.  If Mike and Craig went off for a weekend together as they sometimes did, did I feel a pang of jealousy that Mike had gone off with my best friend, Craig? No I did not! 

But in copulating with these guys, there was for me a bond between us which went beyond that which I had with my clients.  When I was fucking any of my three close friends and came to my climax, the orgasm I had was of much greater in intensity than that which I achieved with my clients.  And remember, I took great care to give my clients the best service I could.  So I felt that somehow, fucking my friends was one up on fucking a paying client.  This made me wonder what it would be like to have sex with the man who would be my life’s partner, if ever I found him. Would the climax be so intense that I could not stand it?   I did not know as I had yet to experience it, if it in fact existed.

It was musing in this way that led me to wonder if such a partner might exist for me and if so, how would I find him?  I was in no way unhappy, but thanks to my inner philosophizing to myself, I felt that my existence was incomplete. The problem was that I had no clear idea of what to do. So, I found myself  adopting  what I can best describe as my Mr Micawber attitude; waiting for something to turn up!’

Over the past few months I had taken to following the MuscleCock Blog which Craig had introduced me to, and had smiled at the exaggerated  physiques and especially the cocks that some of these guys had.  I found it all very amusing and became quite a fan; but I never ventured to comment on any of the photo-shots which were shown.  But among the overblown studs who shot their cum on stage at various competitions, from time to time there appeared some very good looking well-equipped young guys who made my mouth water.  I have to say, that given half a chance I could have happily fucked quite a few of them. 

Well, other than the odd weekend I had taken with Craig on a nude male beach in Florida, I had never taken a true vacation, when I saw that the MuscleCock-Asia competition was coming up in Taipei in Taiwan and decided that I would put my professional life on hold for a couple of weeks and go and see for myself what one of these heavyweight cum shooting contests was like in the flesh.

So, never having been further than New Jersey, I got myself a ticket to Taipei and flew off to see the MuscleCock competition first hand. And it was in Taipei that I experienced the next cataclysmic change in my life, for it was there that I met Simon, who was to become the love of my life, which forms the basis of the next part of my life story.

THE END 

 

Now read the next story in this series entitled:

Sebastian Meets Simon

by Jason Land

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