Date: Mon, 1 Oct 2018 23:34:57 +0000 From: Tim Hobson Subject: going-gay-7 Copyright Tim Hobson - all rights reserved. Tim's liked what he saw Beau and Jimmy do, but just can't bring himself to join in. Suddently, his idyllic get-away is invaded by the outside world. If you're still enjoying these stories, please remember to donate to Nifty: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ___________________________ GOING GAY PART 6 [Beau's body was hot and wet, and I never felt anything so sexy or exciting in my life.] As our breathing returned to normal, Beau turned to face me and said, "and that, Timmy, is Anal Sex 101. There are a thousand variations, but it all boils down to what you just saw." I thought a moment. "Did it hurt much?" Beau nodded, "It's like any other pleasure, there can be a little awkwardness and discomfort at first, but you soon forget about it because the good feelings just keep coming better and better." Jimmy jumped in, "But don't try this at home. Beau and me have been doing this for a coupla years, and it takes that long to figure out just how hard, fast, and deep the bottom can take it without either screaming or bleeding." With that, he jumped out of bed, exclaiming, "I really need a fucking cigarette!" "Out on the balcony, please," Beau called after him. "And put some fucking pants on!" Jimmy hastily complied and disappeared out of the room. I shuddered at the thought of blood coming out of my ass. "So, I'm sorry, but I can't really figure out why anybody would want to do that - be the bottom, that is." Beau appeared to consider this for a moment. "Well, of course, I got paid to do it at first, and I set a high price for my virgin backside. But when I came to L.A., I learned that bottoms can get paid almost twice what tops make, so there was a strong incentive. Also, after a month or two, your body kind of learns how to accommodate the intrusion, even one as big as Jimmy's. In fact, a big one seems to fit better than a smaller one, for some reason." "But is it pleasurable?" "Well, Tim, have you heard of something in a woman called the 'G-spot'?" "Sure, but a doctor friend of mine said it doesn't really exist. It's just a way for a woman to get a little more pleasure out of the standard equipment." "Well, your doctor friend is full of shit. It has been scientifically proven and even located. It's a tender little spot inside a woman's vagina that has a concentration of nerves that when stimulated correctly can produce a raging storm of pleasure." "So, does a man have one of those?" "Absolutely, and you already know what it is." "I do?" "Fuck yeah. It's call the prostate." "The prostate? I thought that was just what produced come." "It does, but it's a very sensitive organ, and it just so happens that the most tender part of is deep up inside your rectum. That's why you sometimes get a twinge of pleasure when a doctor does a rectal exam on you." "I've never considered that a pleasure!" "Well, with the right partner - one who knows where your spot is and how to stimulate it with his dick - you can actually go all the way to coming without ever touching yourself." "You're shitting me!" "Nope. It's definitely there, and it absolutely acts that way. And that, my curious pupil, is why I enjoy being fucked in the ass." "Plus, he likes the fucking money!" Jimmy added with a laugh, returning to the bed. He stank of cigarette smoke, but I decided to forgive him after the magnificent private sex show he had just performed. We were all silent for a while. Then I said, "Guys, I don't know what to say. You have shown me a side of life that I never knew existed, but that I was somehow attracted to. You make it look so easy, but I have been rushing head-long into things that I never imagined existed." "Which tells me you don't want me to fuck you!" Jimmy exploded in laughter. "Well, not right now! Who knows what I'll do in the future?" Beau spoke up, "What say we all three get back in the shower, and this time really just get cleaned up?" "I agree," I said, "and after that, I'm taking you both out for the best steak dinner in this fucking city!" After a steak dinner at a gourmet restaurant, Jimmy left us (I must confess that I don't have any idea where he lives.), and we headed back to our suite at the Del. We were both tired and a little tipsy from a couple bottles of wine, but we kissed as we stood at the bed. Then we lovingly undressed each other, taking care to fold the clothes and lay them on the dresser. Fully naked, but invincibly soft, we gazed at each other with deep affection. Beau was still the strikingly beautiful young man that I have fallen in love with. His perfect body is, of course, idolized by thousands (millions?) of porn watchers all over the world. From this tossled blond hair, to his eyes of deep blue, to his manly chin and perfect teeth, down across his lightly hairy chest and nipples to his washboard abs, and then to his flat abdomen and the thin line of hair that led to his crotch, then to his sculpted pubes and his six-inch soft cock and balls that hung down even below that, to his well-developed thighs and calves, and even his ten perfect toes, he was a Greek god or even more. And he was all mine! I didn't think of him as a possession, but as a gift. For reasons I could not fathom, this handsome, sexy young stud had decided that he wanted me - ME - in spite of all the othere beautiful young men that he could have had with no more than a wink and a smile. I don't know what Beau was thinking as he looked back at me. As I saw myself, I was a more-than-70-years-old senior citizen. Although my body was not realy 'out of shape', it was certainly no turn-on for a horny 20-something sex god like Beau. I preferred not to think about that, nor to wonder what he saw in me. Rather, I was just pleased that he was here, with me, and wanted me. Beau took me into his arms, kissed me passionately, gently guided me onto our bed, and began to kiss every inch of me. After a few minutes, I quickly turned him onto his back and returned the favor. In spite of the fact that we were tired and a little tipsy, we both began to get hard and soon found ourselves in the 69 position - one which had been our "go-to" for sex for more than a week. As I encourged his perfect prick to harden and seek the depths of my throat, he tantalized my own with his lingual skills and soon we were both breathing rapidly. I couldn't say how long it took to satisfy us. We were both tired, so I suspect it wasn't long, but for the first time, we both ejaculated at exactly the same moment. As I emptied my balls into Beau's hot, wet mouth, I felt my own contractions filling his. There was something about the simultaneity and shared experience that made the moment even sexier, even more intimate, than any we had experienced before. I don't know about Beau, and I never asked, but to me it was a confirmation that we were made for each other, and all thoughts of the difference in our ages and life experiences evaporated as we shared that moment of body-shaking climax with one another. After the mutual explosion of semen, we cuddled, naked, and soon were both fast asleep. The next day he checked out of his room. Over the next few days, we had sex three or four times a day, but I just couldn't cross the line into fucking him or letting him fuck me. It was just as well, he said, because he's a very good bottom but a shitty top. Then one day, as we sat by the pool having a late breakfast after Beau's workout in the gym, a bellman came up to me and handed me a telegram. "Oh, boy, this can't be good news," Beau worried aloud. "Well, let's just wait and see what it says, lover-boy." I opened the envelope and read aloud. "Urgent you contact me asap. Have you fallen off the face of the f***ing earth? Regards, Keith." 'Does it really say 'fucking'?" Beau asked. "No, it actually has three asterisks in it. I guess that's all that Western Union(R) will allow him to say." "So, who is this Keith?" "He's kind of my fairy godmother, chaperone, and partner in crime." "Crime?" "Just an expression. He's my attorney and accountant, my golf buddy, and he's been my best friend since college. He's keeping an eye on me, and I did promise him that I'd check in every so often. I've been so busy having incredible sex with you that I completely forgot. I'd better call him before he sends the Mounties to find me." "Mounties, eh?" Beau said with an exaggerated Canadian accent. "Fucking Mounties, yes. And he means it. The last thing I want is him jumping on a plane and coming out here to see what I've been up to." "So, you want to keep all this a secret?" Beau said with an air of disappointment. "I remember the night I met you, Windermere said this was a world apart, disconnected from the world we know everywhere else. I have come to believe that and understand why he said it." I looked deep into his blue eyes and said sincerely, "I'm not in the least ashamed of, or sorry about, what I've - we've - been doing, but I doubt many people outside our circle would understand or approve. I'd better get my ass up to the room and call him, but don't go anywhere. This doesn't mean the end of anything. OK?" "I guess. If you say so." Beau sounded very down-hearted. "That didn't sound very convincing." I reached over and lifted his chin so that he looked into my face. "Well, maybe that's because I've been down this road before, and I'm tired of how it always turns out." "Look, Beau. It's not going to 'turn out' any way except exactly the way it fucking is, right now. I'm not going to leave you, and I hope you want me to stay, because I..." "You what?" He looked into my eyes. "Fuck, I don't know 'what'. And that makes me want to stick around and find out. Please don't go anywhere. Just let me make this call, calm his ass down, and get right back to what we've been doing." "OK," Beau said, unconvinced. "Please?" "OK," he smiled wanly. I leaned over and kissed him on the lips, then got up and took the elevator to my - our - room. Sitting down at the desk, I dialed Keith's private number. I didn't want to speak to his receptionist or anybody else. He answered on the first ring. I put him on speaker. "Buddy, what the fuck happened to you? Where the hell are you and what are you fucking doing?" was Keith's greeting. "Man, I'm sorry. I fucked up. I know I promised to keep in touch with you, but I'm having the best goddamned time of my life and I just lost track of the time." "Well, you're forgiven, but tell me what's going down. Why are the hell are you in San Diego?" "Wait. How did you know I'm in San Diego?" I thought of the telegram, "And how the fuck did you know I'm at the Del Coronado?" "Well, first of all, anybody who's anybody stays at the Del. That's not a mystery. Besides, I see your credit cards bills, remember? So I know where you're staying. And please don't start trying to hide from me. I don't want to waste money on P.I.'s tracking you down." "Man, you're scaring the shit out of me. Since when is it your job to fucking track me down?" I said angrily. "Sorry, Tim. What I mean is, I thought we agreed that you would keep in touch." "Well, why should I?" "First, because you have two kids who tend to worry when they don't hear from their Dad for weeks. Second, because you have a shitload of investments and financial details that I am not comfortable managing without your being aware of them and participating - at least by knowing what the fuck is going on with them." "Am I broke yet?" "Hell, no. You've got more money than when you started. You're doing just fine, but I'd like to actually tell you that every now and then." This conversation wasn't going the way I needed it to go. I took a few deep breaths. "Thanks, Keith. I'm sorry," I said contritely. "I really appreciate all you're doing for me, and I respect your feelings, which I admit I have badly failed to honor lately. You're a great guy and a dynamite friend, and I'm sorry I let you down by focusing so much on my own fucking happiness." "Now hold it right there, buddy-boy! I'm fucking delighted that you're happy, and you don't need to make excuses to me. I'm just glad to know you're safe and not in some Mexican jail or been kidnapped by cocaine drug-lords. Can we just agree that you'll send me a text every once in a while that says 'I'm not dead yet'?" Another deep breath. "That's very reasonable, counselor. And, again, I'm sorry I fucked up. I swear I will keep in touch on a regular basis, OK?" Keith's voice relaxed. More friendly, he said, "So what the fuck is going on down there? Are you having a good time? - don't tell me the details, just are you living life, not wallowing in some deep hole of depression?" I immediately got a mental picture of Beau's beautiful asshole. I nearly burst out laughing, but managed to stifle myself. "Oh, yeah. I'm doing fine. I have made some friends down here - guys like myself who are either divorced or widowed. We hang around, take day trips together, and just generally enjoy each other's company." "Sounds great." His voice trailed off for a while, then started hesitantly. "Only one thing - and I know it's none of my fucking business, but who is the drop-dead handsome young guy you're sharing your room with?" I choked on his words. My whole body trembled with terror. "What... what the fuck are you talking about?" "Look, Tim. I'm sorry, but when I didn't hear anything from you or about you, I did hire somebody to just check that you were OK." "You hired a private detective to spy on me?" I was enraged. "No, no. Not at all! His ONLY job was to locate you and confirm that you were safe and healthy. I swear. I didn't ask for any more information than that, and I didn't fucking want any more than that." "But apparently you got more," I said bitterly. "I fired the son of a bitch as soon as he told me. He seemed to think I was looking to dig up dirt on you for some fucking reason - which I swear I'm not!" Keith took a deep breath before continuing. "I just can't un-hear what he told me. So, please, don't get bent out of shape, but, if you will, just tell your oldest and best friend what the hell's going on." "I don't owe you or anyone else an explanation," I said coldly. "You're goddamned right. But I thought we were friends. We've been through a lot together. I'm OK if you want to distance yourself from all that, but I just want you to know that I care and I don't want to worry about you." "Keith?" I started. "There are things that even best friends don't share. I assure you I'm fine, I'm happy - happier than I've been in a long time, and I'm perfectly safe, sane, and secure. Yes, I've made friends here - the kind of friends that I think I've needed for a long time, but not the kind that the Country Club would approve of - or probably even allow through the fucking door! And that's too fucking bad, because I'm really goddamn happy, and that's all I fucking care about right now!" "Buddy, you've got it all wrong. I AM happy for you. I don't give a shit who you're fucking or in love with or any of that bullshit. I really, sincerely, care about YOU, and whatever makes you happy, makes me happy. I just want to ask: is there anything you need from me, anything I can do for you?" "Like what?" "Oh, I don't know. Maybe run a background check on your boyfriend or whatever he is." I sat in stunned silence. "Keith, if you even think of doing that, we're done. And I'll take every cent I have and go disappear somewhere that nobody can track me down. My private life is no one's goddamn business, and if you can't accept that and leave me the fuck alone, then you're not the friend I thought you were" It was Keith's turn to be stunned. "Tim, I have fucked up this entire conversation. I'm truly sorry." He swallowed hard. "I respect your privacy and your decisions, even if they leave me out in the cold. I have always dedicated myself to your and Julia's financial security, and nothing will deter me from doing that. I fucked up by involving that P.I., and I apologize from the bottom of my heart. Can we please restore our mutual trust? I will never, ever try to find out anything you don't choose to tell me, and I will keep your confidences 'til the day I die. I swear." I took another deep breath and relented. "OK, Keith. Accepted. I'll put it on my calendar to contact you by text on the first of each month. I'll tell you I'm alive, I'm healthy, I'm happy, and I haven't been kidnapped or run away. Beyond that, you have no 'need to know', and I hope you will keep your promise and respect my privacy. OK?" "You got it, buddy. And thanks. When I get that text, I'll tell you anything about your finances that I think you ought to know, or that I need your approval on - and that's all, unless you ask for more. Have a good time out there, or wherever you go, and don't worry about a thing. I've got your back." "That's good to know, Keith." I relaxed and my voice returned to its normal calm. "And thank you for being my best friend." "One more thing. For whatever it's worth, I'm not especially surprised at your new-found friend." "Huh?" "Come on, Timmy. We were roommates in college. From the first time I met you, I had a sense that you were open to all kinds of experiences - I mean it, ALL kinds. So the idea that it looks like you're doing something new, now that you've been married and done all that, isn't really surprising." "Well, to tell you the truth, I don't fucking know what I'm doing. I just know it feels right - in every way - and I don't plan to stop it any time soon. I've made a few friends - and one very special one - and that's where I am right now. I hope that never changes." "You go, buddy. You deserve to be happy, and I don't give a flying fuck how you go about it." With that, we said our good-byes and I returned the phone to its cradle. As I hung up, I felt a presence behind me. I turned quickly. Beau was standing across the room. He looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Tim. I didn't know your call would take so long." "How much did you hear?" "Too fucking much. I'm really sorry." I got up and walked over to him and took him in my arms. "Beau, you're the best thing that has happened to me in many, many years. But I gotta wonder: what am I to you? You seem happy with me, and you've never asked me for a thing. But I don't really see why a person like you, who has so many opportunities, wants to spend all his time with an old fart like me." "Tim, it's like you told your friend on the phone. I don't get it, either, but I know what I feel, and I know it feels right and it's good for me. Hearing you say pretty much the same thing is all I needed to know." With that, Beau kissed me, deeply and passionately. We held each other in a tight embrace, our breathing synchronizing. After what seemed like an eternity, we relaxed a bit. I looked into those shimmering blue eyes and softly said, "If it's all right with you, I think I'm ready for the next step." "Marriage?" Beau said with a mocking grin. "No, asshole." I laughed, mussing his hair, "Anal sex!" And with that, we dashed into the bedroom. __________________________________________ Come back to https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/beginnings/going-gay/ for the next installment! 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