Date: Sat, 14 Feb 1998 15:02:27 EST
From: Wilson583@aol.com
Subject: Ah, Pierre

                    AH PIERRE!   HOW I LOVED THEE
                                               by joe wilson



It was a small house, and cheap.  "A fixer-upper," the realtor said.
"You'll make money on it in time."

I was not looking for profit.  Instead, I was looking for something to
keep me busy.  To erase the compelling waves of defeat and loneliness that
filled my every moment since Laura left.  I wondered if I loved her that
much.  I don't think I did.  The rejection was what had devastated me.
My self-esteem was at point zero, even though the single women that we both
knew called as soon as they heard,

"Let's have dinner," one said.

"I have tickets to Tosca.  They say Bernini is so good."

"I'm looking for someone to drive to Frisco with me.  No?  How about
Santa Fe?"

But my interest in women was at the bottom of the list, too.  Just like
my self-image.

Alex Simpson called.  I knew him at Thatcher, even before Yale.  There
were rumors, whispered words and shaking heads whenever anyone mentioned
Alex.  He was gay.  But I wasn't ready to try that yet, so I bought the
little run-down house on Elm Drive, just on the wrong side of Olympic.
A block from the sought after zip code.

I was lonely.  Sure.  But I could handle that.  I busied myself with
hammering and painting, and tried to make something out of chaos.  In a
way it was fun.  I laughed at my clumsy attempt to hang wallpaper in the
bedroom, but in spite of the imperfections, I was proud of it too.

As I was putting the last strip of border along the ceiling, I happened
to glance out the window into the window of my neighbor.  It was twilight,
and almost too dark to work.  I had electricity, but the light bulbs had
been removed when I painted.  I could hardly see, but the window I glanced
into was bright and cheerful.  A boy, stretched out upon a bed, was
reading.  The light from a lamp on the table flooded over him.
He was naked.

I walked to the window.  The magazine he held in his hands covered his face.
His lean boy-man body was clean of hair except for a black apron, a curly
mat surrounding his penis.  His cock was hard, jutting upward.  His
nipples and navel formed a triangle which pointed to his erection.  In a
sudden moment, I could feel a stiffening.  I thought of Alex and wondered
if perhaps he was right when he offered, "A change of pace, old boy.  Who
knows, you might like it?"

Standing at the window I watched the boy.  His hand roamed over his bare
skin caressing secret places.  His fingers seemed to squeeze his balls,
playing with them for a brief moment, and then, they encircled the hard-on
shaft that extended from his loins.  He began to masturbate.  A slow
jack-off.  The loose foreskin rolled back and forth over the mushroom head
of it.  I was fascinated by the vision before me.  Captivated, is more
the word.

Without being aware of it, I must have unbuttoned my shirt and opened my
fly, for my clothing fell away.  Pleasure darts shot down my spine and
my fingers found my own cock, swollen to its limit.  As the boy worked his
hands up and down over his shaft, so did I.  It was the first stirring of
a dormant libido, the first horny hunger to announce a need for fulfillment,
in a long time.

The boy dropped the magazine so both his hands were now available.  How
handsome he was.  A shock of black hair fell over his forehead.  His face
was beautiful, the features, regular and symetrical.  He must have been
only sixteen, maybe seventeen years old.

As he manipulated his cock, he lay back his head and smiled.  Clearly he
was enjoying what he was doing to himself, and watching him sent a great
surge of desire, a tidal wave of lust, through my loins.  I hadn't felt
this need in a long time.  My hand cupped my balls, while the other gripped
my cock, holding it tight, as it worked back and forth and up and down.

The boy was caught in the excitement of his own pleasure.  He raised his
body off the bed in the thrusting demands of a climax, and watching the cream
spout from his cock, caused added sharp pleasure to my own ejaculation.
Ah!  A moment of release.  A Pleasure I had forgotten existed.

He lay back on the bed, his arms at his sides, his cock diminished in size.
There were puddles of cum on his chest and abdomen.  He placed his hands
in them. and scooping up the thick cream, he placed it in his mouth.

I remained at the window watching his every movement, memorizing the
contours of his body; his narrow shoulders and hairless chest, the small
swollen nipples, the flat stomach and narrow hips.  His cock, so
inconceivably big, rested on his thigh.  A tightness grabbed my throat.
I knew I wanted that cock.  To kiss it.  To love it.  To suck on it.
I was shaken by the realization of it.

I left the window and sought the solace of my bedroom on the other side of
the house.  Lying on the bed in the dark, I thought of the beautiful boy who
lived next door, and for the second time that night, I shattered the
impotence that had captured me for so long a time, and the exquisite
pleasure of the climax exploded into new dreams of passion.  When the
spouting had shot its' last drop, I reached for the phone and called Alex.


"Tell me about it," he said, a twinkle in his eye and a wise smile
accented his interest.  He really wanted to know what happened.

With Alex it was easy to speak freely.  He had always been candid about
his sexual preferences.  Sipping his wine, he only picked at his food.
Alex was not hungry for dinner.  I looked at him from a different point of
view now, a new slant to our relationship.  His superior patrician features
emanated an arrogance that was natural to him and not unatttractive.     
There was a stirring, an interest that was not there before.  I felt myself
being drawn into his whirlpool and realized with surprise that if he asked,
I would go home with him.  But he didn't ask.

"Well, he's a boy.  Maybe a young man, but I think a boy, like high-school
or early college.  Maybe sixteen.  I just don't know.  I watched him
jack-off.  I was as close to him as we are to that pillar over there."  I
paused a moment.  Alex didn't say anything.  He was waiting for me to
continue.   "Well, it loosened it all up for me, Alex.  Remember when we
met at that party at Randy's a few weeks ago and I told you I couldn't
do anything, that I lost interest in sex?  Remember what you said?"

"Sure," he grinned a wicked grin.  "You know its' been there all the time.
You just wouldn't let it happen.  And now the boy has triggered it for
you.  That's great!  Thats the way it should be.  Shit!  Now you got
to follow up on it......he's the one you got to make it with, to crossover,
you know.  Play with him awhile.  Then you'll start spreading out.
There are so many ways to fly, Paul.  Go after it.  Then you can come to
one of my week-end parties.  Fun, Paul.  Fun and pleasure.  Aahhh,"  he
sighed.

"But how do I get started?  What if he doesn't want to......"

"Well shit, Paul, you won't find out just sitting around talking to me
about it.  You've got to move in.  You know, take the initiative."

"Like call him up on the phone, "Hey kid, how about you coming over for
some sex?'"

"Well, that's a bit direct.  Especially for a boy,"  he hesitated,
thinking to himself, and then the light crossed his face with a broad
smile.  "Shit Paul, do to him like he did to you.  Move your bed into
that room.  Walk around bare-ass.  Show him what you got.  You're a
beautiful guy, Paul.  You know I always had a hankering for you.  I was
pretty open about that wasn't I?  You knew what I wanted.  You just
didn't know you wanted it too.  Not then anyways.  It's that simple.
And one day I'm going to get it, like I always knew I would.  It's
getting closer.  It's fun, Paul.  Just fun and pleasure.  No entanglements.
So let him know.  Let him see what kind of man you are.  Macho, with all
that hair on you chest.  Show him your cock, Paul.  Let him know it's his
if he wants it."

"I'm old enough to be his father Alex,  How do I know......"

"For Christs' sake, whats that got to do with it.  Get with it Paul. I'm
living with a kid now.  Dannys' only 19 or so.  A college student.  We
never think of age.  We're into some real heavy stuff, Danny and me.  You're
hung up on the boy, maybe for that reason.  Because he's a boy.  Young.
Reminds you of when you were sixteen.  Maybe he'll be hung up on you
because you're so old and hairy.  Shit!  How old are you anyway?  thirty
two, three?  Get off it, Paul.  You're only making excuses,"  he stopped
and took more wine.  He was enjoying this, I could tell by his enthusiasm,
talking fast and clipped, eyes flashing and smiling, too.

"Go home.  Strip off your clothes and walk around naked.  Get your cock hard.
That luscious piece of horse-meat.  Let him think about you for a while.

The thought of taking off my clothes excited me.  I had an erection, sitting
in the restaurant, just talking about it.  Perhaps he was right.  I leaned
forward and kissed him on the lips.  A brief touch of old, or was it new,
friendship.  "Thanks, Alex," I said.

"Call me, Okay?  I'm interested."


Driving home I thought about all that Alex ha said.  He was right.  It was
a mistake for me to have married Laura.  It was something I did, we both
did, because it was expected of us.  As we grew up, when we talked about
the future, that is, with parents, relatives, friends, it was WHEN you
marry, not IF.  The possibility of If, never crossed our minds.  And yet
I knew in the secret corners of my mind that I was different, not like the
others in all ways, in the ways that counted in making the whole man.
Others must have thought so too, for how often did I cringe at the dreaded
word "sissy"?

I forced my true instincts away.  Shunted them off into the well of
loneliness, where I spent more than third of my years, living a lie.
Deceiving everyone, even myself.  How much happier my life would have been
had I slipped into Alex's bed, as he wanted me to, back in the days of
Thatcher, when the world was just beginning to expand with the unexpected
sprouting of pubic hair and the swelling of a tumescent cock.

I'm thirty four years old.  On the brink of a new life.   An active
life.  Thank God, Laura, after so many nocturnal failures, saw what I was
through the veil of darkness and walked away.  How gentle and tactful she
was, leaving without a hint of stigma, a loss of reputation in a narrow
world.  And then, thank God for Alex.  His flawless perception of what
I was, or am, or will be.  Alex is the key.  There to open the door of
a new life.  The true life.  The life I was programmed to live.  Programmed
by some accident of birth or predestined Karma.

The closer I came to my house, the lighter the cloud that had hung so
heavily over my head in the past thirty years.  And when I turned into the
drive leading to my garage, I thought of the boy living in the house next
door, and light, happy laughter escaped from my mouth into the cool night
air.  As Alex had said, I needed to begin with him.  He was the magical
solution to the puzzle of my reidentification, of finding my true self,
in living as I was meant to live, for he was where I was sixteen years
ago, when I made the disastrous detour in my lifes' path.  No wonder the
need for him is great.  It is as though I now have a chance to start over.
As though I were eighteen again.  In his wisdom Alex postponed my offer of
myself to him.  He knew that one day I would follow him, but first I must
go back as I start my life over.  And I must start it with the boy.

Flushed with excitement, I ran into the house and up the stairs.  I wanted
to see him again.  The lovely vision of him, lying on the bed.  So frank
and honest with his body as he masturbated, free of guilt and inhibition.

I tore off my clothes as I ascended the stairs, scattering them everywhere.
Naked, I felt the pleasure of the breezes set by motion, as they danced
over hot and excited skin, flushed with frank and admitted desire.  I was
a queer, I kept telling myself.  I yelled it out to the empty walls,
"I'm queer, a sissy, a goddam fairy, a faggot, a dirty homo."  Thank God
I can say it now.  Announce it to a hostile world.  Sure I'm, a sissy, a
cocksucker, a brown-noser.  So what!!!


That night I strutted around the room bare-ass, my cock so hard in its'
erection that it hurt as the blood forced it to its' limits.  I moved my
bedroom into THE room, the stage, the jumping off place into the gay
world.  An excitement ran through me as it hadn't done since I was a boy.

And then I saw him.  He was lying on his bed as before.  A sharp surge
of lust washed over me, sending shivers of pleasure down my spine.

Pretending not to look his way, I watched him as he rose from his bed.
I must have caught him in the middle of a jack-off, for his hard-on
seemed red and angry for having been interrupted on its' path to a climax.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him reach for the lamp.  The room became
dark now.  Ah God!  There he was, the barest shadow standing at the
window, watching ME.  There were thrill-chills rolling up and down my
spine at the realization that he too was caught up in the excitement of a
brewing encounter.

I paused in the motions of making the bed.  I faced the window so that he
could see me, could languish his eyes over my macho body, muscular and
hairy.  I squeezed my nips sending lovely pleasure-darts to my loins,
where all the sparks of erotic pleasure seemed to gather.  My cock and
balls were heavy with the blood that had gathered there, and it pointed to
him, swaying gently, back and forth.  I could feel his eyes lapping over
my body, like waves against a rock at sea.

I reached for a joint of tighly rolled marijuana.  I struck a match and
inhaled a great gust of potent smoke.  Its' immediate effect was to toss
care and caution to the winds, to abandon all restraint.  I was too caught
up in the excitement now.   I exhibited my body in every lascivious lustful
way.  Certainly by now he must know that I am gay, horny, and that I
want sex with him.  I walked to the window and opened it and I stood there,
just a few feet away from him.  My cock stuck out into the cool night air.

Though the light from my room shown only dimly into his, I could see him,
quite clearly, standing in the shadows.  His nipples and cock were at the
ready.  He had pushed his hips forward.  It was as though he was offering
his erection to me.  The foreskin, slipping over the ridge, revealed a
tear drop caught in the open slit.  I wanted it.  I had to have it.  there
was no way I could suppress my desires.  They were needs, now.  Needs that
had to be fulfilled, to be completed.  All the years of denial, of turning
away from my true nature, seemed to finalize in an expanding bubble of lust.

Caution was gone.  So was fear of refusal and rejection for I felt his
desire as much as my own.  His lips were parted.  He smiled.  SMILED!
Can you believe it?  He wanted me too.  Oh God!  At last I found myself.
I watched as he reached to the latch to open his window.  Of course, of
course.  Why should we be separated by barriers?  We were facing each other
now.  I was surrounded by light; he was dressed in ineffectual shadow.

My breath came in such rapid, shallow gusts that I could barely speak,
though I knew that I had to, to capture the moment, not to let it pass by.
But when I tried to speak, the words in my head flew away like a flock of
frightened birds, and I stood there, suddenly shy, naked and vulnerable.

"Hello," he said with a smile and a nod of his head.  His hand stroked his
cock rolling the foreskin back and forth in a slow steady motion.  He
wanted me I knew, yet I still could not find the words I wanted to say.

"Can I come over?" he asked, "I'd like to make love to you."

He stroked.  He smiled.  He flaunted his naked body in a lascivious way
that almost made me cum, and still all I could do was feast on his
nakedness,  dwell upon the exquiste beauty of him.

"Don't you want to play?"

I nodded, yes.

"I want to kiss you, to hold you and feel you.  I want to suck your cock,
and then I want you to fuck me....."

An enormous surge of energy powered down my spine to my erection.  "Yes,"
I said,  "Yes, I want you too," finally finding my voice.  "I want to lay
with you, to....."

But before I could say more, he took words away from me...."I want you
to fuck me," he said.

The moments seem to stretch into hours, but still it was but a moment.
We were each caught up in a  whirlwind of need, enhanced by magnetic
vibrations pulling us together.  I could stand the tension no longer, it
had to be completed now.  This dream must grow to reality.  No more
fantasy.

"Please come," I said, a quiver accenting my need.

He nodded.  His smile opening to a frank grin, his eyes steadied on mine.
He turned.  His firm buttocks rotated as he ran out the door of his bed-
room into the hall.  I fled down the stairs.  Oh my God!  It' happening. 
He's coming.  I pulled open the back door just as he came tumbling in.
He fell into my arms.  Lust fired his eyes with sparks of hunger.  His
arms clasped around me as mine surrounded him.  The contact of silky flesh
on flesh was luscious.  His mouth was warm and moist, sweet as we kissed.

I led him up the stairs to the bedroom where he stretched out upon the bed.
I loved him with my tongue.  Worshipped all the secret parts of his naked
body.  Finally, with an almost silent grunt on pleasure, I tasted him.
The sweet ejaculated-sap struck hidden nerves, sending resounding thrills
to my over-anxious loins that erupted too, like Popocatoptl, streaming hot
lava onto the bed sheets.

But the primary explosion was not the shooting sperm that caused such sweet
pleasure as it exited the rock-hard penis, it was the final disintegration
of all the inhibitions and self-imposed restrictions that had bound me to
the straight world for thirty years.  In one short soaring moment, my heart
was free and my soul opened to a new life.

And when it was over, I sat back on my heels.  My liberator looked at me and
smiled.  "Thank you," he said in a whisper, "I liked that."

I bent down to kiss his tower of strength once more.  Never would I have
enough of it.  His hands encircled my head and held it there,  We did not
have enought either.  I slid my tongue down to the testicles.  Wrinkled
skin, warm and wet and redolent with passions' smell, and I took them into
my mouth, one at a time, and washed away their bitterness.  I pulled his legs
up, bending them back over his prone body.  Separating his rounded cheeks, I
tasted yesterdays excretions.  I humbled myself at this most secret part
of him, licking and probing and sucking his hairless anus, and then declared
my capitulation, my surrender to the natural forces that drove me out of
the straight world and into the exciting and violent storm of the gay one.
And with the insertion of my tongue into his ass-hole, I stated my choice.
The brown-nosing, and ass licking queer that I was.  And I loved the thought
of it.

He pulled me up so that I lay beside him, our bodies, moist with sweat,
pressed against each other.  He looked at me.  His eyes were the color of
topaz and glowed as though a light beam shone behind them.  His smile
begged for kisses, for his lips were full and slightly parted.  Touching
them ever so gently with mine, I sucked the sweet breath into my lungs.
His tongue slipped into my mouth as mine did into his, and we fed the
passion that intensified with each moment.  And as the pressure grew, so
did its' demands.  I felt reluctance as he pulled his lips away.  He
directed them to my throat and chest and nipples, over hairy armpits, and
down the sensitive rib cage.  Pausing briefly at the navel, surrounded by
black hairs that trickled to the great mass surrounding my cock.  His
hands, gentle on bulging testicles, he kissed the shaft, licking his way
over the ridge to the tip where the foreskin had fallen back leaving the
smooth slick sensitive second skin, and he took my cock into his mouth
with a silent sucking motion.

Somehow he seemed to be able to take the whole of it, to let it roll past
his tongue and down into the deep interior of his throat.  The sweet
pleasure was like nothing ever before felt.  It was a pleasure that began
its' journey in the heart of my balls.  Even my rectum felt the thrill
of it.  It coursed up my spine like lightning shocks and flooded into my
erect nipples.

Then the exquisite pleasure centered at that one point at which everything
was directed, was referenced to.  My cock fairly sang as pleasure grew.
But at last I could contain it no longer, and the cum was ejected with a
powerful force, and as my love-boy sucked and ate away my essence.  My
whole body ignited with the fires known over to lovers.

Never before had I felt so complete a climax.  And once more my silent
confession released me of former anxieties.  "I'm queer," I yelled to the
four corners of the room. "Queer."


We lay together in quiet repose and drifted into a dream-like world of
contentment.  A contentment never before achieved.  The tide of emotion
had reached its peak for now, and the calm and stillness of the night
washed over us.   We fell in sleep.  When I awoke, hours later,
he was gone.  Only the depression left by his head on the pillow beside
me was reminder that he had been there at all.

I stretched my arms and legs, luxuriating in remembered pleasures of what
went before.  The luscious sweetness of his taste lingered, as did the
silky feel of his skin on mine, the dancing tongue seeking refuge in my
throat.  Ah! How great it was!


Three days later I rang the bell of the house next door, seeking him,
needing him once more.  No light had appeared in the room across from
mine.  No response to my naked entreaties made as I stood at the window,
masturbating under the glow of the lamp.  It was as though he had never
existed.

"The boy?" she said, "You must mean Pierre?  Why he's my nephew, my sisters'
child.  He only visited a few days.  But he's gone now.  Yes. he's no
longer here.  He lives in France you know.  But he's home now."

And she closed the door with an almost silent click, shattering expectations
and dreams, leaving only persistent memories that refuse to fade.


"Ah Pierre!  How I loved thee!


joe wilson

I hope you liked my story
if you did, please let me know

wilson583@aol.com