Date: Sat, 27 Jan 2018 17:42:14 -0500
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: Questioning

                           QUESTIONING
                      By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     "How late will you be getting home tonight, Daddy?" Marlene asked me
as I tucked her into bed.
     "I'm not sure." I told her. "Probably not too late. But you go on to
sleep now and I'll be here when you wake up, I promise."
     "All right." Marlene wrapped an arm around the neck of her teddy bear
and snuggled down into her pink lacy pillow with eyes firmly closed. I
wished I could go to sleep that easily. Sleep hadn't come easy to me ever
since the divorce some four months ago. I was having to start my life all
over again!
     Oh, the divorce itself hadn't been nasty. Denise had been willing to
accept a small alimony, sensible child support payments, and to share our
household items, bank accounts and custody of Marlene on a reasonable
basis. She had gotten Marlene for Christmas this year, I'd had her for
Thanksgiving and now for New Year's Day. Next year we'd trade off, and I'd
been welcome at her house for the Christmas celebration, though that had
been a bit awkward. No, Denise hadn't been bad at all with the
divorce...unless you count the fact that she hadn't been willing to make
any effort to save our marriage, we'd grown apart and it was so long Joe!
     So now I was back in the dating game. Which was what I was doing
tonight, Friday night before New Year's, I was out to learn how to pick up
women all over again.
     I sighed, remembering that as I checked my appearance in the
mirror. At the age of thirty-seven, I was too damned old to be in the
dating game. Women my age fell into three basic categories, already
married, badly damaged from prior marriages, and just too weird to
marry. That left me dating women younger than me, and that was a whole
different set of problems. Still not ready to settle down, ready to settle
down but wanting children of their own, wanting a sugar Daddy to
spend-spend-spend on them...oh, never mind!
     Well, I looked like me. A big, strong guy, I'd always kept myself in
shape, but time and gravity were beginning to take their toll. It had
turned my face from cute-handsome to rugged-handsome. My tits were
beginning to sag unless I kept my shoulders pulled back. My hair had lost
its luster and if I looked carefully, I could find some gray hairs in
there...Ah, to hell with it!
     A horn was honking, it was Martin, calling to pick me up. He was my
"wing man" these days, someone to talk with while looking over the girls,
and to help me out in getting them interested in me.
     "So where are we going tonight?" I asked.
     "It's Friday night, I figured Jet-Go's." Martin started.
     "Oh, God, no, not that!" It was a discotheque, and I was too damned
old to gyrate around on the dance floor and shout to be heard over the
music.
     "But it's where all the hot girls hang out on Friday nights!"
     Suddenly, I couldn't take it. "I don't want to hang out with girls
tonight!" I declared. "Just take us to a nice, quiet bar where I can get a
drink, maybe play a game of pool or darts, and just hang out with other
men!"
     I pissed Martin off, I could tell. "Mind if I cut you loose there and
go on to Jet-Go's?" he said.
     "Fine with me." I shrugged. "I can get a cab to come home."
     "So that's a plan. I'll take you to Romano's." Martin peeled out so
fast, he left rubber on the pavement. Okay, I'd angered him, I'd apologize
and treat him on the next date, if I had to. I was getting a bit past the
"wing man" stage anyhow, time for me to break off on my own on these dates,
I'd learned most of the places to go by now, anyway. I'd never been to this
place, but I'd want some place to kick back and just be a guy from time to
time.
     Romano's was just a notch in a row of small businesses along this
block. A couple of guys standing outside smiled at me as I walked in, and I
smiled back. A friendly place, great.
     Inside it was just what I needed! A couple of pool tables were seeing
action, and a dart board beyond. There were tables around both pool tables
with guys sitting watching the action or talking to each other, the bar had
a few more guys sitting and chatting, the bartender was a clean-cut young
guy. And no women anywhere!
     I walked over and put my four quarters down on a pool table, it had
two more piles there already. A game was a dollar, I guess I'd play the
winner of the previous games. Went over and ordered a draft Budweiser and
went to an empty table and sat down and splayed myself out, welcoming
visitors.
     "Hello." a blond-haired guy, younger than me but not that young, came
over with a can of Coors in hand. "You playing pool?"
     "Yep." I agreed.
     "Who you playing against?"
     "I figured I'd play the winner."
     "That's Bob and Gregory, they won't want to split up on their games."
he explained. "But I'll play you."
     "Fine." I agreed, stuck out a hand. "I'm Joe."
     He took my hand with his and gave a strong, manly shake. His hand was
rough from hard work. "I'm Carl."
     Carl was easy to talk to. He was twenty-nine, working rebuilding old
houses he'd bought cheap, fixing them up to sell at a profit (a game I'd
been thinking of getting in on if I could scratch together enough money to
buy the house and stuff to fix it up with...okay, I couldn't afford it!),
and regaled me with story after story of his trials and triumphs in the
business. When you work in construction, there's a fellowship that
outweighs many other differences.
     Our turn came up and I played a better game than him, though he gave
me a challenge. After that, we made our way to the darts board with fresh
mugs and took our place in queue there. There were more players waiting,
but the games were quicker, we wouldn't have to wait for long....
     Standing by me, me perched on a backless bar stool, Carl's hand went
around my waist and I turned, smiled up at him. He smiled back and leaned
down. I didn't realize what he was doing until he was doing it. I got
kissed and jerked away from him, startled. "What the hell?"
     "What's wrong?" Carl asked me, puzzled.
     "Why'd you kiss me?" I said, wiping my mouth.
     "I'm sorry," he said, "but we were getting along so well, I didn't
think you'd mind."
     I started to answer that with a long explanation and cut off when I
saw what two guys across the way from the darts game were doing. Looked
around more. I'd been in Romano's for almost a damned hour, and only now
was I realizing it was a gay bar!
     "Oh, shit!" I said. "Martin, I am going to beat the shit out of you in
the morning!"
     "You're not gay?" Carl asked.
     "No!" I said. "I'm a married...I was a married man, I got divorced,
but no, I'm not gay!"
     "Oh." Carl looked...annoyed. Then recovered, his face cleared. "Well,
it's no problem. We don't lock out straight men in this bar."
     "Or rape them in the bathroom." another man chipped in. The others,
listening, laughed.
     "I guess I should be going." I said, standing up.
     "Why?" Carl asked me. "Our turn just came up at the dart board!"
     I looked, he was right, it was why our exchange had been
noticed. Looked at Carl. Hell, he was the closest thing to a real friend
I'd found in years! Looked around, everyone was smiling,
friendly...accepting. I broke out in laughter and said, "All right, let's
play! I bet I'll beat your ass but good."
     "Promises, promises!" Carl responded, and we all laughed. It was a
close game, real close...but I won.
     A hell of a fun night developed. We all laughed and joked, me and Carl
and the other guys. Hell, best time I'd had a bar in I don't know when, and
nobody put a move on me at all. I learned some new jokes, and some better
punchlines for a couple of old jokes, and before I knew it, it was pushing
midnight.
     "Oh, hell, I'd better get home." I said. "I got a nine-year-old girl
to say good morning to in another seven or eight hours. I'd better call me
a cab."
     "It's okay." Carl rose. "I'll give you a ride. My truck's outside."
     I wondered if his truck would be painted pink or purple or have
flowers on it. But it was a typical builder's truck, white, battered, with
racks on the sides, one for holding ladders and the other for carrying
large windowpanes or sheets of wood paneling. He got out of the truck and
walked up the two flights with me to my front door. Somehow, that felt just
right.
     I stopped at the front door with my key out and turned to
him. "Thanks, Carl. I had a hell of a good time tonight."
     "Me, too." Carl said and his eyes were...hungry. He wasn't saying a
word, not a thing, just standing there...but his eyes said plenty.
     "What's this?" I asked him. "Don't I get a kiss goodnight?"
     The smile on Carl's face grew like the sunrise. "I thought you'd never
ask."
     His arms around me felt so very right, so warm, so strong. His lips
were soft and accepting and felt masculine and aggressive on mine. It
wasn't like kissing a woman, not even close...but in its own way, it was
even better! A woman kisses you, it's like she's telling you she belongs to
you. Kissing Carl said that we were equals, strong men, together, partners
against the world.
     When Carl's kiss stopped and he let go, I pulled him back to me to
kiss him again. We both fell against my door with a bit of a bang and I
realized the babysitter was in there! "We got to play cool!" I gasped to
Carl. Pushed him away just in time.
     My door opened and Mrs. Spielman opened the door. "Mr. Westerman,
you're home!"
     "Yes, just got back." I said. "Is Marlene all right?"
     "Sound asleep as always, the little angel." Mrs. Spielman moved
quickly. "I've got to get back to my own home now, my husband won't go to
sleep until I'm in there next to him. Talk to you tomorrow!"
     And that fast, she was off down the hall to her own apartment.
     And Carl and I were inside and I reached to grab him again. I felt as
giddy as I had the first time I'd ever had sex, back when I was
sixteen. Only this wasn't some simple-minded pretty girl, this was a big,
studly man and I was free, free, free!
     We kissed in a frantic sort of waltz through my living room and into
my bedroom. Falling on the bed, while tearing at each other's
clothes. Carl's body was hot and musky-smelling, clean, but very, very
male! It was a strangely erotic feeling, touching muscles the equal of my
own on my lovers, not the female frail, thin arm, where they avoid muscles
at all costs and bleach every blemish, pluck every hair and drown every
odor in scented soap and perfumes. It was a joy to tug off his workboots,
strip off his socks, wrench down his pants to reveal hairy, powerful legs.
     "You know, for a straight guy, you're pretty good at this." Carl
panted.
     "Yeah, but I'm running out of stuff I know how to do here." I
said. "You're going to have to show me how to do this."
     "No problem at all." Carl panted. "You just do it the way you'd like
it done to you. You know how you like your cock sucked, right? Just do it
like that."
     "All right."I gulped and reached for his briefs, his sole remaining
piece of clothing. I wore only one sock myself, with me peeling his
Jockey's off and over his feet, we became two naked, hairy men together,
and I moved into a sixty-nine position with a gulp. I'd been carried by a
combination of passion, curiosity and experimentation up to this point, now
it was time to get to the gritty work of man/man sex...and was I able?
     Carl's lips sank over my cock and I groaned. Again I was struck by the
difference of this sex, from that of my ex-wife and the other women I had
bedded. A woman sucks a man's cock and for her it's all
theoretical. However talented she may be, it's all learned, and all the
talent pours from her brain. You feel that, somehow, underneath everything,
that she has no real understanding of what she's doing for you, beyond the
fact that you're groaning and telling her she's wonderful, even when she's
only better than your hand down there.
     But Carl was working me with the experience that comes from personal
possession, he had a cock of his own and knew down deep just what felt
right and what felt less than perfect. His lips worked in a way that told
me he knew every nerve ending in my cock and could play it like a violin
virtuoso, and I shuddered with the joy and my eyes focused on his dong in
front of me and I dove onto it without hesitation.
     I knew what to do. Why had I thought for one moment I hadn't? I knew
the flesh was tender under the covering skin, that I must meet it only with
my soft lips and tongue, keeping my teeth well away from that. I could let
my teeth touch the skin of the shaft, so long as I didn't bear down. Don't
scrape...touch. My lips gripped the cockskin and forced it to ripple
upwards over the flare of the glans, and I rose upwards until my own lips
pressed over the skin at the flare, and only then sank back toward the
base, the thick shaft filling my mouth to fullness and beyond. I tasted the
heady rush of precome his cockslit was exuding and suddenly I wanted more
of it, more, I wanted to drink down his entire fucking comeload! That made
me speed up, my actions wrung pleasure from Carl's body and he was groaning
as much as me in no time.
     "Oh, God, stop, Joe, stop!" Carl gasped after at time. "I don't want
to come yet!"
     No? "Why not?" I asked, panting hard myself. Shit, I was close to
coming, I was just trying to make him join me!
     "I want you to fuck me." Carl breathed.
     "Fuck you?"
     "Yeah, man, fuck me." Carl rolled over onto his stomach and I
understood.
     "You sure you can handle this?"
     "Yeah, man, but...you got some lube?"
     "Yeah, in the nightstand." I said. I fished it out. "How much you want
on me."
     "You'd better put on plenty, you've got a huge whonger there."
     "I know." I agreed, squirting a liberal portion onto my palm. "It's
why I keep the stuff."
     "I like 'em big, don't worry." Carl assured me. "But you've got to get
practice to fuck another man right."
     "So much for knowing it for myself." I told him.
     "You only find out when you get fucked yourself." Carl
explained. "Then you'll know better."
     "Touche." I agreed. I'd smeared the lube all over my dong and so I
scooted over to get between Carl's legs. His butt was as hairy as his legs,
and the sight of those furry orbs was exciting to me all over again, my
cock had softened some but now it was rock hard and eager.
     I pushed into Carl in easy stages, but he just moaned and squirmed and
his bowels accommodated me each time. Soon I was able to begin to thrust in
and out of him and his body was warm underneath mine. I felt the power in
his back, in his hips, in his arms, as I embraced him from behind, it was
like fucking a tiger! I was hotter than I'd been in bed with a partner in
some time and if Carl had objected right now, I don't think I would have
listened. But Carl was getting into it, he was just grunting and urging me
to move faster, harder, come on, ram him, yeah, that was the way, come on,
give it to him!
     My climax roared into my brain and I groaned and hammered at his butt,
and Carl groaned himself, moaned he was coming, he was coming, and I
groaned again and blasted my wad into him and Carl let out a long, low moan
and ejaculated his load into my sheets.
     I slumped down and groaned as my orgasm released me, and our sweat
mingled as my jizz leaked out around my softening dong, then a rush as my
flaccid pud fell out of his ass. I moaned and shifted over to lay beside
him on the bed and he moved over to take me in his arms again.
     "Oh, man, that was so hot!" I groaned. "So fucking hot."
     "Yeah, it was." Carl agreed. "So what do you think about sex with
another man?"
     "It was just what I was needing." I admitted.
     He snuggled with me a while, then he said, "Well, I'd better go."
     "Go?" I was disorganized.
     "Yeah." He said, getting up. "You don't want to explain me to your
daughter in the morning, do you?"
     "Oh. Right." I agreed. "Well, she's going back to her mother's on
Monday night and I won't have her again until mid-January." Every other
weekend during school sessions, and half the summer, that was my custody.
     "That's nice." Carl agreed.
     "Can I get your phone number?" I asked. "I'll call you Tuesday.
Because I want to see you again."
     Carl smiled and gave it to me, we kissed, and he left. I put on my
bathrobe and slipped into my daughter's room. Marlene was still sleeping
soundly, like always, the sleep of the innocent. She looked like a sleeping
angel.
     For now, I had to think of her first. Maybe that was why my
relationships with women had been so bad lately. Maybe I had to turn to
men, like Carl, for a while, because women threatened my life with Marlene.
Or maybe I was gay after all. How could I know? How could I make a
decision, find an answer, with my life the way all churned up like it was?
I was in no position to be starting over right now!
     But Marlene came first. Definitely. That'd do for an answer right
now. I'd work with that a while and see how things turned out.
     I gently kissed my daughter's cheek and slipped out as quietly as I'd
come.
                             THE END
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