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Choosing a Stepfather

by “Brad Gillespie” and “Tucson Daddy”

Chapter 2:


The wedding was to be held in Connie's home town in late August. University classes had ended in June, so she immediately flew home to start making arrangements. Her mother and two sisters, along with various friends, offered to help. The burden of making it as close to a perfect wedding as possible was nearly assured. Bob was working at a job in one of the computer stores in town, so he remained behind.

He and Connie talked every night on the phone, sometimes for two hours. They talked about everything in their lives. They wanted each other to know everything they did. Communication in marriage is important, but it's just as important before. So they didn't regret the hours they stayed in contact.

His family could easily have paid all the bills for his admission, board, room, and books at the university. Bob's parents knew that a free ride could never be fully appreciated. If Bob truly wanted an education, they'd help, but he'd have to contribute.

Their agreement with him, as with their other children, was this. They'd pay the bulk of expenses: admission, board, and room. Bob would pay for books and personal needs. This included clothes, entertainment, toothpaste, plus all else he needed for an enjoyable university experience. In short, to do this, Bob needed a job.

Some might consider Bob's parents as cheap and miserly in the way they treated their son. He didn't resent his parents' decision. He simply pointed out that he had another brother and sister who either were in a university or would be soon. So that was three kids to put through at once, a heavy financial load.

It gave him a degree of freedom others couldn't appreciate. If his grades slipped, his folks could rightly call him on the carpet and demand an explanation. The happened rarely, so he learned it was best to keep his academics high. Being an A student, those standards were very high.

But having a job to support his extracurricular lifestyle was his own. Nobody questioned what he did with the money, so long as he didn't come asking for an advance on his allowance.

Not only his personal earnings, but his personal time was his own. Letting his grades down, he'd have to explain to his folks how he spent his time. If he wanted to attend post-graduate work in law school, he must keep his academic standards high.

A wedding is not just a bride walking down the aisle in her stunning white gown on her father's arm and meeting her groom at the end of it, just in front of the minister. None of this is possible without the many details to be resolved.

On Thursday, he and Connie had talked — or rather, Connie had talked. She was in a down mood over the progress of preparations for their wedding, fretting over every detail. She unloaded on him. Being the good fiancé, he had just listened without comment. The complaints had risen to a new high, with Connie starting to cry. He listened in his best sympathetic tone, while she went into excruciating detail, none of which he could recall.

When she had finished her list of problems, Bob listened, and occasionally commented on how hard she was working, saying such things as “Don't worry,” “It's all gonna work out,” and “I love you.” He'd even gone to the extreme of promising her he'd be on the next flight out. In the end, she thanked him for his wonderful and considerate understanding of the problems she was facing. “Don't you dare fly out. We need all our money for living on after I'm your wife.” He smiled at that, for he was very much in love with her. His wife!

He got so worried that the situation was worse than Connie made it sound that he called her mom, who assured him that all was well, Connie was taking on too much. She should relax. He thanked her for her cool assessment of how well things were going, and for helping to keep the preparations taking form.

He wanted to stay out of the way, and let the ladies direct and control the preparations. They had sufficient help to manage the minutiae of such an event. Were muscle power required, Connie's dad and uncles would step in to do the grunting, lifting, and pushing of things into place.

His coworkers usually gathered at a drinking spot not far from their work place. That Friday, following the long sad commentary from Connie, Bob was feeling down. He saw the others at a table toward the back. One waved to gain his attention. He smiled broadly and signaled back. He had no sooner taken a seat between Tony and Jen, when the cute waitress came by. She was standing next to him, so close he could smell her perfume, which seemed a lot like Connie's. The music and talk were a little loud, so she leaned over to speak more directly into his ear. As she did so, her left breast pushed against Bob's right shoulder. What was this?

He and Mindy had a regular flirt going on, since Connie no longer came in with him. “She's back home. Getting things ready for our wedding in August,” he'd explained the first time she'd asked.

“So you're here all alone, by yourself?” she'd quipped back.

“Uh huh. All by myself; I get lonely,” he responded. With the line from an old song. Not that he really meant that he was lonely, but he liked it.

“I sit alone with a table and a chair,” she grinned, quoting the next line from the song. They both laughed at the recognition that they both loved the older songs.

“You're good at this. Maybe…,” he paused.

“Maybe?” she asked, a small smile creasing her beautifully pouty lips.

“Maybe, Mindy, honey, would you mind bringing me a beer,” he said. His heart was in his throat. He was starting to think with his cock, not his head. Just in time! He'd managed to push aside the lascivious thoughts of Mindy and him alone in his room. They wouldn't be playing solitaire!

Mindy's smile faded. “Sure,” she said, turning to go. “Be right back.”

Jen poked him almost painfully in the shoulder. “Hey, Bob! What the hell are you doing? That was just about the most obvious come-on I've heard. You and Connie…” she snapped her fingers, “…remember? Marriage, and all that comes with it. Like loyalty!” She stared at him, eyes blazing. “Cool it, ass hole!”

He shook his head. “You're right. I have no idea what I was thinking,” he replied ruefully.

“Sure, you did,” chimed in Tony on the other side. “Your brains dropped down below your belt.”

Then less caustically, Jen came back. “We know you miss her. We all do. Can you just knock off the attitude about Mindy. She's way beyond what you want to get involved in now.”

“But she sure has a nice ass, doesn't she?” said Tony.

Jen turned her feminine wrath on him. “Don't do that, Tony. Bob needs our support, not a good reason to fuck her.”

Tony ducked his head as though avoiding the virtual ashtray Jen tossed at him. “Jen's right, Bob. Just remind yourself that you are already promised to the woman of your dreams.”

Mindy returned, all smiles this time, and placed the glass of amber liquid before him. “Thanks,” said Bob, placing a few bills in her hand.

Automatically looking at the money, she calculated the change.

“Thanks,” Bob said again, indicating it was all hers.

Her grin really spread. “Thank you.” Without another word, she left.

More of the gang came in, and soon they were deep in drink and merriment. At midnight, Bob said, “I'm gonna go. Got an early schedule tomorrow.”

“Sure you can't stay for just one more?” asked Tony.

“No, I'm done. I'm outta here.”

Tony tilted his glass to drink down the rest of his beer, and said, “I think I'll get out of here too. See you tomorrow.

A chorus of good-byes sounded from around the table. Bob and Tony made their way between the tables in the packed bar to the door. Stepping outside into the cooler air, Bob took a deep breath. Turning right toward the university, they walked in silence.

Tony broke it by saying, “That Mindy really is a vixen, isn't she?”

Bob smiled, recalling her pert bottom moving away. “Oh, yeah! One delicious morsel!”

“You came awfully close to agreeing to meet her tonight,” Tony said in a mildly accusatory tone.

“Yeah, I did. Don't know… Yes, I do. I miss Connie and our usual romp every night.” He felt his cock give a twitch as he remembered the last time they'd been together. The scene unfolded and concluded in a fraction of a second. His cock twitched again. “Man, I'm getting horny just thinking about it.” Another twitch.

“Fortunately, we guys have alternatives, right?” he nudged Bob with his elbow.

“Right. Like cold showers to drive the blues away.”

“Not to mention the hard-on,” quipped Tony laughingly

Bob shook his head. “Some really great times. Connie is one hell of a lover. A real contortionist and explorer.” He'd almost said “cock sucker,” but decide that was too much information to share.

“Cold showers never do it for me, Bob. I need a lot more.”

Bub sensed something in Tony's tone that told him to beware.

“I'm gay,” he went on casually.

Those words, “I'm gay,” hit Bob like a hammer. Suddenly he understood why Tony seemed so familiar. He looked a lot like his best friend Dave, back in their senior year in high school.

Sitting in his room after school one day, they had the house to themselves. Dave had said, “We're best friends, right?” he'd said to Bob as they lay prone on his bed, relaxing.

Bob nodded.

“Well, I've got a secret. I want you to know.”

“OK, shoot.”

“I'm gay.”

With those words, Bob's world began to change. He looked sharply, suddenly at Dave. The look on his face was one of expectation. The first words that formed in Bob's mind were accusatory, but before he could spit them out, Dave added, “I think I'm in love with you, Bob.” His face seemed to crumple as tears began to flow. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Stunned at these two revelations from someone he'd known since they were in kindergarten, he stuttered out words of his own that drew him even deeper into Dave's secret world. “Of course, I can. I do. I mean, I forgive you.” Without even thinking, he opened his arms, inviting Dave to come to him.

They were past the typical male model of handshakes upon meeting. Rather, they went into a hug, which the girls liked. “Nice to see some guys with real sensitivity for a change,” said Brenda. Some of the guys accused them of being queer, but those comments faded when both of them showed themselves to be typical boys in so many ways.

But here they were now on Bob's bed, with Dave sobbing out, “I'm so sorry, Bob. I didn't mean to fall in love with you. You're my best friend.”

Bob felt lost, holding his best friend, who was sobbing his heart out. He felt strangely honored to have his friend speak so openly. Gay! He'd never have guessed. Dave seemed the straightest shooter he knew. How we deceive ourselves when we grow so close to one another! He did and said nothing more.

Lying together, Bob's arms enfolding him. Holding him close. How might Dave interpret this simple act of friendship? One way, just a friendly act of comfort. Another, Bob was reciprocating.

One, two, three seconds passed, as Dave recovered his composure, then he wrapped his arms around Bob, who did not object. Rather, he thought Dave's overreaction was coming to an end.

Looking at Bob's smiling face, he smiled back. Then, reaching one hand behind Bob's head, he brought his face up to Bob's and lightly pressed their lips together. Shocked, Bob was frozen, unable to move. In some perverse reaction, he held Dave even closer.

“This was it!” were Dave's thoughts.

He pressed his lips harder against Bob's. Everything turned to confusion in Bob's head. The feel of soft warm lips on his own was so reminiscent of his various girlfriends'. His desire to comfort his friend. The closeness of Dave's body pressing even more against him, so that he could feel Dave's hard cock, the bulge in his pants. All these combined to cause his panic to recede, and he relaxed.

Thirty minutes later, with the feel of Dave's sweet lips on his own and the cloying tangy taste of Dave's cum on his tongue, he was at ease. The two boys-becoming-men lay together. Bob nestled against Dave's warm, smooth body, resting hie head on his friend's arm. They lay quietly. Bob and Dave felt closer than they ever had before. Yet more was still to come over the next few months, before Dave and Bob went their separate ways. With Bob's impending marriage to Connie, his one love, those days would be forever behind them.

“What?” asked Tony, seeing the look on Bob's face as though he had seen a ghost.

“Huh? What?” repeated a confused Bob.

“That look on your face. I've seen that before on others. Where did your head go?” he demanded.

“Oh. Sorry. What you said reminded me of what happened between a friend and me years ago. I suddenly realized that you and Dave look very alike. So I had a flashback. It's nothing. Really.”

“What? What did I say that kicked off this flash?” asked Tony, now very curious.

Bob didn't want to go into it, so he evaded again, “Tony, it's nothing. A memory best left unrecalled.”

“That bad, huh?” he probed again.

“Yeah, it was. Don't want to go there again,” he said, hoping Tony would let up. It was in fact one of the best moments of his life. He'd always been told he was a nice hetero boy, and society carried the same constant message. Dave had pulled open the curtain aside, to allow him to see that he really liked both boys and girls. Telling Tony this story after learning Tony was gay, he knew, could only lead to a continuation of his desire to taste cock again.

“As I was saying, Bob, I'm gay.”

“OK. I appreciate your openness.”

“Well, what I'm saying is that if you need some relief, I can help.”

“What are you saying? That you'll relieve my hard-on?”

“Sure, that's what gay friends are for. I'd love to do it!”

Like a glass of cold water being tossed in his face, Bob regained his senses and stuttered, “If you… I mean… if… if you want to. Do you want to suck me off?”

“Love to.”

“I don't think I could ever turn down a blow job, so OK.”

“How much further is your place?”

“About three blocks. Let's hurry!”

Bob was very nervous as he made several attempts getting the key into the lock. On the third attempt it slid in and he turned it. Opening the door, he walked in, waited for Tony to enter, then closed and locked it. “Now what?” he asked Tony.

“Let's go to your bedroom and get naked.”

“What? Naked. No clothes on?” he asked in surprise.

“I like to see my partner's body. It's part of the turn-on I get, and I'm an exhibitionist. Like showing my bare ass to you.”

Sighing, Bob trudged toward his bedroom. Grateful that he is a neatnik, he had the room in perfect order.

“Nice bedroom. Real masculine,” commented Tony.

Feeling extremely horny, Bob was quickly kicking off his shoes and stripping down to his birthday suit. Tony was similarly inspired, so in a minute, the two naked men stood apart with hard cocks extended like the prows of Viking long boats.

“Nice body,” said Tony admiringly. “Great cock!”

Bob had similar views of Tony's body and erection…

“Let's get to it,” said Tony. “Move that pillow and sit there with with your back against the head board.”

Bob did as asked, puzzled by the arrangement.

“Open your legs.”

Tony moved onto the bed and moved into position between his spread thighs.

“I'm going to edge you,” Tony explained. “That means I'll suck and stroke your cock until you get almost to the point of cumming. You tell me to stop, I'll pull off, and you'll have a miniature climax.”

Bob nodded, “Ready.”

Tony, lying prone between Bob's legs, looked up at Bob's lust-filled face. Lowering his mouth, he extended his tongue to run it up and down the length of Bob's hard-on.

“Mmm…” Bob sighed, reaching out to touch Tony's head. “Nice.”

He continued licking the twitching prick, primed to explode. Changing approaches, he moved his mouth over the head, made his lips into a circle, and blew on the wet surface. Bob jumped in surprise. “Damn! That is something.”

Moving on to other techniques, Bob was soon at the point he was just ready to cum. “Stop,” he gasped out, as Tony pulled his mouth off Bob's cock, which was ready to shoot. Instead, the warm feeling of climax spread to his belly and down his thighs. A small geyser of semen shot from his pee slit. Tony leaned forward to lick it off. The sight of his semen, the feeling of sexual tension, watching Tony lap it off, and the rough-softness of the tongue rubbing over his tip, almost sent Bob over the edge. But he managed to calm himself and Tony asked, “Ready?” He nodded.

This continued for many minutes, with Tony drawing mini-geysers and achingly pleasurable feelings from his body. Finally Bob said, “Can you finish me off?” Tony went back to nursing Bob's man teat until he exploded, shooting four strings of cum upward to land on his chest. He lay panting from the sexual satisfaction. “That was great, Tony,” he panted out. “How long have you been doing this?”

Tony had moved from between Bob's legs to sit beside him. “I think I sucked a cock when I was 11, or 12. It's all a blur back then. I sucked my buddy and his brother and one friend. My friend was 11 or 12, like me. His brother and the friend were 15. I told them if word came back to me that someone heard I sucked, I promised they'd get no more.”

“That work?”

“Yep. Nobody asked me. So I enjoyed up to ten blow jobs a week. Loved cum.”

“Who else here in town knows?”

“A few gay guys and you.”


“You ever done it?” asked Tony.

“What? Suck cock? Yes. Once, with a friend.”

“Did you like it?”

“I don't know. It was on a dare, so we each did it on the other and never again,” Bob lied, with only a tiny modicum of truth.

“Want to try it again? I'm plenty hard,” asked Tony.

“Hmm…, dunno. I'm not really feeling like sucking just now, thanks to your outstanding fellation,” he said, straight faced.

“How about just jacking me off?”

“I guess I owe you that.”

“How do you want to do it?”

“My friend and I used to mutual side by side. What I'd like is for you to lie here, and I'll lie on the other side on my left elbow, so I stroke you with my right. You cum fast?”

“Depends on how well you do me.”

They moved into their respective positions, so that Bob's head was directly to the side of Tony's hard cock. He closed his fingers around the shaft, and felt the hard-softness of a rod of flesh. It was so good to touch another man again. He tilted a small bottle of lube, allowing a few drops to fall on its tip, then moved his hand up to capture the lube and spread it down the shaft. Oh, so smooth and slick. He began to slowly move his hand up and down the shaft several times, then paused at the base to move his hand in a circular motion. He continued his repetition of stroking the lovely hard-on until Tony groaned that he was cumming.

In the time between his warning and the first drop of semen appearing at the pee slit, Bob leaned over to close his mouth around the head, capturing Tony's excited ejaculation. Two, three, and four jets, each one smaller than the previous, until Tony lay panting. “Damn fine job,” he whispered. “Especially what you did at the end.”

Bob savored Tony's tangy semen, then swallowed.

Tony watched Bob's throat muscles as he took the small white pool of cum down his gullet.

Bob lay back on the bed, giving his right arm a needed rest. For a long moment, no words were spoken. “You've done this before, haven't you? I mean more than once,” Tony asked.

“Yes. Many times. I lied to you about my friend and me. He introduced me to cock sucking, and fucking,” Bob admitted. “Watching your cock as I jacked you, I was seeing Dave's cock.”

“They look that much alike?”

“No. Just a cock. Like yours.”

“Looking to hook up?” asked Tony.

“God, no! I'm getting married in a few weeks!” he exclaimed emphatically.

“OK,” said Tony, in a voice that bespoke doubt. “If you change your mind and want to take a lover on the side, let me know.”

“I'll tell you straight out, Tony. You're not my type. Our personalities are too different. We'd clash. But thanks for the offer.”

“I have a lot of cute bi and gay friends,” he persisted.

“What I might need, maybe, if sex drops off in my bedroom, is a blow job and jack off or a 69 as a sort of sexual tune-up once a month. Get it?”

“Fair enough. Anyway, I've enjoyed our meeting. Gotta go.”

They rose and Tony put his clothes back on. Bob stayed naked. He would be going to bed when Tony had gone. They walked out of the bedroom chatting about work, as if they hadn't just spent the last half hour in intimate sexual participation. At the door, they embraced and Tony went out into the night.

When Bob appeared at work early the next day, he was immediately caught up in the manager's latest project: making products such as the Tablet and iPad available. Branch out what they already sold.

Bob had a natural knack for organizing; quick to see what others missed. He realized that being a manager had little to do with imagination. Greg, his boss, had reached his position by being around longer than other employees, being an excellent salesman, and following orders from the top. Bob had a few ideas he wanted to bring up with Greg, but for the moment, he and the other workers needed to get these Tablets out of their shipping containers and onto the shelves.

The shop regularly opened at 9:00 AM Monday through Friday, but Bob and others were there at 7:30. The truck bringing the Tablets in would arrive at that time. Bob didn't have much faith in projected timelines, especially when the drivers he knew well often scoffed at the idea of punctuality. With that attitude, he wondered how they managed to arrive before their work day began. Especially when their bosses tended to be hard asses, firing a trucker for being five or ten minutes late. Drivers were plentiful; why put up with willfulness from adult men?

To his surprise, the truck was there when he arrived. The driver was a woman. In the last ten years, he'd noted an increase in the number of women who took on the task of driving trucks from California to New York or Dallas. Days on the road, with potential danger at truck stops when she might pull in to refuel or eat a late meal. Some of them had armed themselves with a light-weight pistol or carried wasp spray in their trucks. A smaller container of an equally lethal-effect product might be in her purse.

This lady was petite in size, but got Bob and the others right to work pulling out boxes for this store.

“Come on, you guys, get to it. I've got two more stops this morning, and I want to keep my record of being there on time.”

“That's an attitude I haven't often seen,” he'd commented to her.

She smiled at him and said with a smile, “Thanks. Seems somebody notices me.” Then added, “For my timeliness and punctuality.”

Bob had to agree. She was that, being on time, but he'd noticed when she opened the cab door and stepped out. Definitely noticeable material, right! As she stepped down from the driver's side, her pants stretched over her bottom, showing her very nice ass…ets. He grinned looking at that backside. Turning he caught his breath; she was very pretty.

Small in stature, yes, but the rest of her was packaged very nicely. He was instantly reminded of another older song. “…Your separate parts are not unknown, but the way you assemble them's all your own.”

Once she'd caught him glancing at her and sauntered over. He stopped unloading at her approach. “Hey,” she said. “I didn't tell you to stop, did I?”

“No, ma'am,” he responded, returning to pulling the last few boxes from the bowels of the truck.

Her voice and manner softened. “You never seen a woman before?”

He took a chance on irritating her by saying, “Seen plenty. Most not as pretty as you.”

She smiled, “I've seen lots of men, most not as good looking as you.” Her brow furrowed, and she looked at him quizzically, “How old are you, anyway? If you don't mind my asking.”

“Not at all, if you don't mind my asking you the same question.”

“Don't you know that a gentleman never asks a lady her age?” She smiled at his audacity.

“I'm 23, 24 in 11 months.” he said, answering her question.

“Oh, a smart-ass, huh. Well I was 24, ten years ago.” They both laughed at their unconditional age description. “I'm old enough to be your older sister.”

“If I had a sister like you, I'd make sure your dates didn't get out of line.”

“What line would would that be?” she said, stepping closer to him.

He swallowed at the effect her proximity was having on him. “Well, you know,” he began lamely. “Certain lines.”

“Care to demonstrate?” she replied with a wicked smile.

They both stood, only a foot separating them behind the truck. Everybody was in the shop opening boxes. Did he feel his palms getting wet? His breath stuck in his throat. She broke the silence by extending her hand, “I'm Dolores,” she whispered in a sultry voice. “What's your name, big boy?”

He blinked at the sudden change in her demeanor. “Uhm… I'm… uhm… I'm Bob,” he said, taking her soft hand into his. They shook but didn't release immediately. “Glad to meet you,… uhm… Dolores. Very pretty name.”

She seemed in no hurry to disconnect from his hand. “I'll bet you tell every Dolores you meet the same thing, don't you?”

What was it about her that so discombobulated him? He'd faced other pretty girls and touched their hands without feeling his heart beating faster. “I don't know any other Doloreses. But you're the prettiest, if I did.”

She smiled, released his hand, and stepped back, all official now. “Honey, I'd sure like to know you better. I can tell you know how to treat a woman.” He saw her eyes move down his body to the bulge in his pants. He flushed, realizing he had a hard-on. To make matters even harder, she brazenly let her fingers brush over it.

He gasped, stepped back even further, blushed even more, then composed himself to say. “I guess I'd better get back to unloading,” he whispered huskily, feeling horny all at once.

“Guess you'd better,” she said, playfully patting his shoulder. “Before…” Her words were interrupted by the boss's voice. “Hey, Bob, you gonna get that stuff in here?” He stopped when he saw Dolores. “Oh, I see.” Walking toward her, he had his hand out. “I'm Greg, Greg Peterson, manager of this store. How are things going out here?”

She took his hand, shook it, and said, “Good to meet you, Greg.” Pointing at Bob, she continued, “This guy has done super work. Getting my truck unloaded in record time.”

Greg nodded. “Yeah, Bob is a good worker.” His eyes swept back over Dolores, paused, then he said, “Good to meet you, Dolores. Bob, can you see me?”

It wasn't a question. Bob said, “Sure, be right in.”

“I don't want to get you into trouble. I need to get a signature for this shipment, so I'll go in with you.” She grabbed her clipboard and accompanied Bob inside. She approached Greg with a sweet smile and asked, “Could you sign for me please?”

He looked at Bob and said, “You were keeping track of the boxes, weren't you?”

Bob said that he had. “They are all accounted for.”

“OK,” said Greg. Taking the clipboard from her hand, he scribbled his signature across the “Received By” line. She watched him sign, thanked him, and shook his hand again. He smiled, her nearness having an effect on him.

“Bob, been good working with you. Take care.” She shook his hand too, and when their hands parted, he felt something in his. Looking down, he saw a small piece of paper and closed his hand over it.

Walking out the back door, Dolores gave her ass more sway than usual, hoping to distract Greg from any irritation he might have about Bob dawdling out back.

“Mmm… mmm!” mumbled Greg. “Nice ass on that one.”

Bob said nothing, allowing Greg's attention to be pulled away by Dolores's arousing exit. When Greg redirected his eyes from the lady to Bob, he said, “You did a good job out there, getting boxes unloaded. Good work!”

“Thanks,” Bob said.

Looking around the shop where employees were pulling items out of their shipping boxes, unwrapping them, and putting them on the shelves, he said, “We're right on schedule, thanks to Dolores's early arrival.”

“We don't see that kind of punctuality often. You ought to call her company to compliment her.” He grinned. “We might see her back one day to thank you for that.”

Greg raised his eyebrows, and slowly nodded. Apparently Dolores was still on his mind. “I'll do that,” he said.

The rest of the boxes were unpacked, some stored in the back room, others placed beneath the displays and the doors to them locked. It was exactly 9:00 when Greg walked to the front of the store to open the doors for the several people waiting outside. He stepped back from the door, welcoming those trooping in.

That was how it went at the computer shop, except that drivers like Dolores weren't common. Dolores! He suddenly remembered the folded paper in his clenched fist. Stepping into the private restroom, he opened it to read her mobile phone number, with the words, “Please call when you can.” and it was signed “D.” He stuffed it into his pocket.

“Whoa!” he thought this was too good to be true. Mindy, Dolores…,” his mind wandered over last night, “and Tony.” He'd not been so turned on since he and Dave had begun their gay affair. He felt his cock stirring, with his mind returning to Tony's ministrations. He gasped, realizing his lust was rising, needing relief. A knock at the door brought him out of his trance. “Hey,” said a voice. “You 'bout finished in there?”

“Yeah, out in a sec.” He flushed the stool, ran his hands under the faucet, and ripped a few towels from the dispenser. Opening the door, he said, “Been waiting long?”

“Long enough,” said Tony, rushing past him and closing the door.

The rest of the morning was quiet, not many customers, so when lunch time came around, Greg told Bob and Tony to take a lunch break, while he and another employee stayed. “Be back in 45 minutes, you guys,” he reminded them.

“Got it, boss. 45.” answered Tony over his shoulder. “Slave driver!” he mumbled.

“How about that sandwich shop down the mall?” suggested Bob.

“Actually I was thinking of feeding on a different kind of meat,” Tony said, looking expectantly at Bob's crotch.

He smiled, “It'll have to be fast. I still want solid food.”

“Can do. In here,” Tony whispered, indicating the men's restroom up ahead.

They entered, Tony led the way to the back stall, and entered. “You first,” he said unzipping his pants to pull out his cock. It was hard so he struggled to get it out

Bob stared at it. Tony's cock was not as large as his, but in his lust it looked big and beautiful. The foreskin still covered the head, which made it even more interesting. He grinned up at Tony as he knelt to take it in his right hand, reaching inside his pants to cup the big walnuts nestled in their nest.

Pulling the foreskin back and running his tongue over the precum-smeared head, he sighed, inhaling Tony's masculine aroma. “Mmm…,” he said softly. “Wonderful!”

“Come on, man,” whispered Tony. “We don't have much time.”

Bob began to suck and stroke in earnest, wanting to get Tony's load quickly. Less than a minute later, he was rewarded with four jets of cum landing on his tongue. Cleaning Tony's head quickly, he swallowed his reward.

They traded places. In seconds, Bob's cock was firmly enveloped in Tony's mouth and Tony was massaging his nuts while sucking and stroking his raging hard-on. Moments later, he shot off, draining his balls into Tony's cock-hungry mouth.

After swallowing the cum on his tongue, he rose and kissed Bob on the mouth. Bob responded as though he hadn't had a kiss in days. “Man, you are still hot!” whispered Tony when they separated. “You want another round tonight, after work?”

“You're not my type,” Bob said. “OK for a quickie, but if I'm going to get involved, I'd like to check out the field.”

They left the stall just before another man entered. If he noticed they came out of the same one, he didn't let on. Outside, they headed down to the Subway shop, hoping the line was short. Entering, they saw that their wish was granted. Only one other customer was choosing the components for his sandwich. He'd finished to move on down and wait for his meal.

They didn't talk after they'd placed their orders. Just stood in line awaiting their sandwiches. In the meantime, the clerk rang up each order and they paid. When the sandwiches arrived, they took their cups to fill with soda and selected a bag of chips.

Outside, seated at one of the tables, Tony said, “I thought you didn't want to hook up. That's what you told me last night.”

“You started me thinking about how good gay sex is. It's not really cheating on Connie, is it? I mean fucking a man isn't like doing a woman, is it?”

Tony laughed. “So you're justifying sharing your body with another person, a man, aren't you? Do you honestly believe that?”

Bob pondered the dilemma, scratched his head and said slowly. “Yes. You're right, but it would be easier to explain to Connie…”

“What!” Tony burst in. “You're gonna tell your fiancée that you've been sucking cock and fucking a tight ass hole?”

Bob leaned forward. “Shhh…! Not so loud,” he cautioned. Several people at adjacent tables were looking at them oddly.

Tony blushed. “OK. My bad.” He looked at Bob, “You really going to tell her?”

“Dunno. Maybe. It's easier to get forgiveness…”

“Yeah, I know, than permission.” said Tony with a sneer. “It's still cheating.”

Bob had just finished his sandwich, poured the remnants of broken chips into his mouth, and said, “Let's get back.”

Tony finished up, rose, picked up his unfinished soda, and walked along beside his friend sipping on it.

“Look, Tony,” said Bob quietly. “Last night. What you did for me and I did for you. All the old horny memories of making love with Dave, my best friend in high school. I thought I'd managed to push them down. Hadn't even had a whisper of them in over four years. But last night, when I held your cock, jerked you off, and swallowed your cum, well it all came back.”

“Know what you mean, Bob. When I realized how much I loved sucking cock to get that warm cum, I knew I was hooked. No woman could give me that. Struggled with it for years, but realized I needed to come out then. The longer I stayed in the closet, the harder it would be. Especially when I had my own place. At home with parents around me and his around him, it was easier. They kinda helped me control myself.”

“I don't want to demean our friendship by letting sex get in the way, so it would be easier if I found someone else to have an affair with.”

“Shit, man! Listen to you. Your girl friend goes away for a few weeks and you're already planning a gay sex affair.”

“Can you help me?” asked Bob bluntly.

“Yeah, I can,” said Tony.