Date: Thu, 9 Oct 2008 15:23:54 -0700
From: M Smith <jplmnman@hotmail.com>
Subject: Three Friends :Part 1:Beginnings

This is the first installment of what I hope will be more fictional stories
loosely based on myself and two close friends as the primary characters and
highlights of some very erotic times we've had.  I reserve all rights and
retain sole ownership to this, an original work created by me for other
adults' entertainment.  Any reproduction, electronic or physical is
prohibited without my express written consent as this is copyrighted by the
author making that statement in this document.  Names have been changed and
certain events have been revised, deleted or condensed as deemed necessary.

The author grants the Nifty Archive a non-exclusive, worldwide,
royalty-free, perpetual, and non-cancellable license to display the work.

All characters are of the age of majority or more during all events
portrayed.  No characters will be depicted as being forced to do anything
against their will.  I can be contacted via JPLMNMAN@HOTMAIL.COM and will
reply to emails.  Please put "Your stories" in the subject line so I can
easily discern which are in response to my work.  Thank you!

WARNING: This fictional account contains adult subject matter, homosexual
in nature.  If you do not wish to read such literature or it is illegal to
do so when you are reading this, please close this window now.

M A Smith

Three Friends - Part 1 - Beginnings

I had moved from my last station, working for the feds over the past ten
plus years, just a few months ago.  This time at least the move was from
Washington DC to the Twin Cities of Minneapolis/St. Paul, so I didn't feel
like I had been banished to Siberia.  Yet here it was difficult to make
friends and meet people, most were in tight little groups that had been
together since grade school.  Sure, I'd made a few acquaintances and a
friend at work but each night, when I headed home, it was alone with little
planned for the evening or weekend.  A few times a month the new friend and
I would sit and have coffee and talk, rehashing the day's events, but she
wasn't about to start asking me over to her place and I wasn't really
interested in deepening the relationship either.

Once I decided doing the bar scene was no longer my thing and trying groups
of people with similar interests was also out, I turned to my computer and
the internet to try and find friends and I hoped, someone to be much closer
with.  I was still smarting from having to leave a wonderful, caring man
back in Maryland yet wasn't about to give up hope there would be someone
here for me.  In this pair of cities of about a million people there had to
be someone who wanted a friend and much more; but where?

After trying several dating web sites, most not even allowing a man to
place a profile stating he was looking for another man, and getting a few
emails, even meeting some at a local coffee shop to do an initial check
out, I was beginning to resign myself to the fact it was almost hopeless.
I was looking forward to flying back to DC for the holidays and staying
with Paul, my lover that just several months before we had parted after a
very tender time making love.  Paul was unique in my life; the first man I
knew who understood sex was not always just something fun to do but was
also a way of sharing yourself with another.

As I sat there in my apartment, thinking about that last time we made love,
I really got home sick, something I'd never experienced before.  My mind
recalled that last time we were together.  Paul had outdone himself,
preparing a fantastic lunch, putting on some relaxing music, and it wasn't
long after I had arrived that we were nude, kissing passionately, on his
bed.  My hand naturally reached down to stroke his uncut cock while one of
his hands was massaging my balls, us both very familiar how the other
enjoyed to be touched, caressed, pleasured.  Neither of us said a word
until Paul finally broke the kiss and had asked.

"Jay?  I wonder, if you got into the private sector, couldn't you find work
around here and just as many opportunities for promotions?  He was looking
right into my eyes, almost pleading with his face, hoping I'd immediately
smile, telling him, "Sure!  Heck, I'll just turn in my resignation and
within a week or two I'll have another job that so we can stay together."
All the time my hand was stroking his beautiful uncut meat, it was at least
eight inches, so handsomely veined and thick, not so much it would hurt
when he penetrated me but still, thick.  My thumb was getting wet with
precum as I rubbed his piss slit, feeling his body responding to what I
knew he loved so much; his legs stretching as his form moved closer so I
could pay attention to even more of him.  All the time I was thinking how
to answer him.

Finally I told him, "Paul, I've been doing what I do now for almost eleven
years.  Between the promotions and security working for the feds, I LIKE
that I get to move every couple of years, seeing new places, getting
troubled federal programs back on track and once done, being reassigned to
yet another place.  Besides, I believe they do make planes just so people
can visit!"  His face didn't fall, nor did he stop responding to my
caressing his penis, if anything he became all the more responsive and
leaned back, wanting to escape into sexual pleasure so he didn't have to
dwell on what was soon going to happen; me leaving.  Myself, I was also
more than willing to love Paul rather than think about all the hurt I was
causing him.  I leaned over, kissing his smooth chest, him now running his
fingers through my close cropped light brown hair while I used my hand to
explore even further down, finding his balls and pressing between them with
a single finger, feeling the root of his cock inside him, hard and very
ready.

He surprised me, this was our last time for probably a long time, (it
turned out to be the last time), and he didn't do what I had imagined he
would want; to slide his cock inside me while I was straddling his hips,
over him, his muscles thrusting his hooded cock up inside me as we kissed;
him grinning now and then at how much I moaned and pushed back, wanting to
feel ALL of him filling me.  Instead he calmly whispered, "Jay, I want to
feel you loving my cock with your mouth, please.  If it's going to be a
long time until we can be together again I want to know the last taste you
had of me was my semen squirting out in your mouth."

I wasn't about to tell him no, but slid down his front, looking up at him
with a evil grin, flicking my tongue on his warm, ever so slightly furred
stomach.  He KNEW that was my favorite, giving him head and taking his cum,
savoring it and then swallowing slowly, memorizing the taste, texture,
scent, thickness, everything that made Paul's semen uniquely his.  By the
time my mouth had reached his groin, he was holding the shaft, slapping my
face with his cock, little droplets of precum spotting me while the room
began to fill with that unmistakable musky perfume signaling MAN!

I immediately popped his tip in my mouth, not wanting to waste any on my
face, but wanting to taste his so slick, lightly salty, crystal clear
precum.  He knew I was enjoying myself and I most certainly knew he was.
Once again Paul had done something that was prefect for the moment;
something I was never very good at doing; allowing me what I wanted and yet
also giving me a final, most intimate gift to carry with me, his semen.

While I swirled my tongue around his sleek tip, so smooth and warm, the
foreskin still covering the back of his cock head, I started to massage his
thighs.  I've always known giving a man head was so MUCH more than merely
putting his cock in your mouth and bobbing up and down until he came.  It
was using my hands, fingers, nails, legs, feet, and voice besides my lips,
tongue and teeth to pleasure him in as many ways possible.  Sometimes
reaching up with my hands to caress his chest, stopping to play with his
nipples, or possibly milking out a clear droplet of precum, wiping it off
on a finger and reaching up and feeding it to him, so many things defined
loving a man's penis with my mouth to me, and Paul knew that.

I didn't know he hadn't cum in over a week, instead edging several times
each day, building up a massive volume of cum, so his lover could have the
biggest load he'd ever felt gushing out when Paul came.  As he got closer,
I could feel his balls tightening, his whole body lightly quivering as his
breaths turned into panting while I continued to enjoy his cock and body.
Paul, between groans, told me, "Jay, lick a finger, I need to feel you in
me, please!"  Without losing my rhythm I sucked my left middle finger and
quickly slid it between his butt crack, searching for his opening, and was
soon deep inside him, pressing on his prostate, making him writhe on the
bed all the more while his muscled ring clamped down on my finger, then
relaxed, over and over.  All he could say was, "YESSSSS!  YESSSSS!" between
moans and gasps at how good it felt.  Whenever I felt him getting close, I
would slow down, wanting this to never end and also wanting to give him all
the love and pleasure I could.

After over a hour of bringing him to several almost climaxes I was feeling
a little left out and I'm sure he sensed that, motioning to me to swing
around so he had access to my cock.  He began to jack my 7 inch cut and
MUCH thicker cock (the reason I hardly ever had fucked him) with his hand.
It was fast and hard, almost like it was going to get away from him if he
didn't grab it that hard.  He was using lube so that every touch, every
motion was VERY intense, I could feel the sensations clear down into my
balls.  I already knew once he had started it would be only a matter of
minutes before both of us came, and we were going to cum HARD.

The last thing Paul grunted out was, "All for you Baby!" just before he
arched his back and started to erupt huge, long ropes of white seed into my
mouth.  I wasn't surprised at first, his jizz was usually thick and he'd
always cum in huge, thick ropes of seed coating my tongue and mouth.  Yet
instead of the usual four to six, the last one or two smaller and thinner,
his body was pumping out even larger bolts by the time he had hit six!  I
always liked to keep count, just did, but this time, it was totally
different, they weren't getting smaller and sure weren't stopping at six.
Each shot was from deep inside him, not rapid fire but more deliberate and
planned, several seconds between squirts; his body preparing for the next
explosion, each fired with every muscle contracting to pump his sperm
carrying fluid out.  He was past filling my mouth with his most special
gift to me as he let out an animal like growl with each bolt darting out,
warm, musky, just a tinge of sweet, into my mouth.

Feeling the volume of his seed now almost overwhelming me, I began to cum,
feeling squirts of my seed hitting my stomach and knowing it was also
splashing all over his torso.  He hadn't stopped jacking me, still gripping
my shaft like never before, and the sensations were incredible!

I've NEVER lost a man's load from my mouth, ever.  Yet now, as fast as I
could swallow, he was refilling it with still more gigantic squirts of his
white pudding.  I couldn't, it being so special, let this be the first time
I had to open my mouth and signal defeat.  I kept my lips wrapped firmly
around his shaft, gulping, trying to just open my throat and let him
ejaculate directly down it into my stomach.  Then is when it happened; his
goo began to flood out my nose!  Suddenly I couldn't breathe at all, and
all my senses were in overload, my body telling me if I wasn't going to
consciously give up then it would for me.  I watched as clots of his seed
slid down my lips, off onto his shaft, and started to smear on his dick.  I
didn't feel defeat, I felt so aroused, seeing my man's semen, so much of it
I couldn't swallow fast enough and it had found an escape and looked so
sexy coating his hard shaft and now his scent was literally in my nose!
All I could do was swallow every squirt he did, breathing as best I could,
then leaning down and licking up the bit that had escaped me through no
fault of my own.

When I turned around, Paul was grinning from ear to ear, proud his surprise
has worked and would be a gift I'd never forget.  Yet the moment he saw my
face, he couldn't hold in a burst of laughter, at how both sexy yet comical
I looked with cum running out my nose, down my chin and onto my chest, his
cum.  As I blushed he told me to hold still; then leaned up and licked his
seed of my chest and pulled me down next to him.

We hugged, him fishing my cum off his chest with his fingers so we could
share it between kisses, laughing softly at what I must of looked like, a
drowned rat with white jizz still leaking out my nose.  He would kiss me
there, flicking off another bit of his seed, then give me a deep, long
French kiss, our tongues touching, twining as both our loads were shared
with the other.

Yet like anything, it soon became time for me to clean up and walk the few
blocks to the Metro, heading out to Regan National.  I'd stopped over the
night before with an overnight bag, all the rest already on it's way to
Minnesota, including my car, so it didn't take long to do the necessary
hugs, some tears, and soon, I was alone, walking down the streets of DC,
headed out to a new adventure but feeling so sad, something I hadn't
planned on when I met Paul just three years before.

By the time my wonderful memory was over it was well past midnight in the
suburb of St. Paul I lived in.  After reliving that incredible time Paul
and I had, me STILL being able to taste his cum (he was right, it was the
one thing that would stick in my mind more than anything else), I had an
empty feeling in my stomach.  I had long ago learned if I felt that down it
was best to get out among people, not to isolate and stew in my emotions,
and this time wasn't going to be any different.  I picked up my down jacket
(don't forget, Minnesota, mid-January), put on gloves and snow boots,
clomped out to my garage and somehow squeezed Mr. Marshmallow man into the
driver's seat of the little sports car I had bought less than a year
before; still sporting Maryland plates.

After getting out on the main streets I realized this wasn't like other
larger cities I had lived in, here there wasn't a car to be seen in either
direction.  The little gas mart on the corner had long since closed for the
night and so I decided to drive to where I shopped for groceries.  Even
there, only four or five cars were in the huge parking lot but thank
goodness, I had remembered the store was open 24/7.  After getting out of
the car and into the store, the emptiness did more to enhance my
melancholy; the place was more like a garishly lit mausoleum than a
bustling supermarket.  Even the brightly painted walls were too happy, too
bright for my taste and I was getting ready to leave, this had been a bad
idea.  Tomorrow I'd feel better but right now what I needed was sleep and
to dive into my work.

While pushing a shopping cart that had only two or three items in it back
towards the front, I head a voice from behind me call out my name.  It had
been months since I'd heard someone outside of work say, "Jay!"  Without
turning my body, only my head, I looked behind me, back down the aisle.
There, about thirty feet behind me was this man, dark almost black hair, I
was guessing a few inches shorter than my six foot even frame, and due to
the thick coats we both wore, I could only guess what the rest of him
looked like but it seemed he was thinner than me.  Where I weighed about
170-180 (depending if I was going to a gym or not) I estimated he was no
more than 135-145 pounds.  He was near my age, 38, and that's about all I
could tell in the few moments I had.  At the same instant another part of
my brain was activating, the street smart section.  I'd lived in big cities
all my adult life and I knew this had to be some panhandler or worse, some
guy with a knife who wanted to mug me.

I wasn't desperate, more angry that now I had to deal with this jerk when
all I wanted to do was buy the stuff in my cart and head home and climb
into bed.  Now I had to quickly choose to either ignore him, possibly
setting him off or face him, also not such a good idea as we were alone in
the aisle.  Without a word, he was trotting towards me, a nice smile on his
face, and I could see he was wearing a designer polo shirt under the polar
jacket, looked clean and wasn't acting threatening at all.  I decided to
face him and wait, letting him come to me.  While waiting I put on my
business face as I call it, not letting anyone see what I was actually
feeling or thinking, perfect for just such a situation.

Within a few seconds he was next to me, the grin still very much apparent,
and his eyes the deepest brown I'd seen.  He was clean shaven, the cologne
he wore was perfect for him and everything about him said I shouldn't
worry.  He carried himself with confidence and was already leaning in
towards me (I'd always used body language to understand situations)
indicating he wanted to be near me as he liked me, not to hurt me; else his
stance would have been more guarded and probably leaning back or standing
straight up.  The smile wasn't forced or fake, his eyes had those
unmistakable small wrinkles at the corners showing he wasn't planning a
smile; it just was the thing his body was telling him to do.

Without even waiting for me to say a thing he calmly told me, "You don't
remember me, do you?  I'm the guy who manages that restaurant you ate at a
few weeks ago.  I remember you telling me you were new to Minnesota and
didn't know where things were but some colleagues had told you to try my
place and you were hoping it was going to be good.  Does any of that jog
your memory Jay?"  I was impressed, he not only quickly stated his case,
his voice was deep, rich and very calm, and he knew to use a person's name
during a conversation.

I replied, "Well, sorry, no, I really feel bad but I don't remember you.  I
have to confess, I've eaten at so many restaurants the past few months none
of them really stand out."  I really didn't know who he was nor what
restaurant he managed but most of all, I was trying to gently disengage and
just go home, my mind was still on defense mode and my emotions were ugly.
Yet I didn't want to hurt his feelings, so this seemed like the best way to
let him off easily and then leave.  I added, "Wow, I am really embarrassed,
I don't even recall your name!"  I was wondering how he knew MY name; I
didn't stand out that much.  Sure, men liked me, I am attractive and have
what some would call a rugged mountain man look, easy going, laid back,
self assured, and I take care of the body I am stored in.  Yet HOW did this
guy I couldn't remember anything about know my name?  I did know all the
people I'd introduced myself to and he sure wasn't one of them.

Instead of him getting the hint or looking downcast and sad, he kept on
going as if nothing was wrong.  "Hey, I understand, most people don't
remember me but I make it my business to remember people and especially
their names!  I remember you came in several times in a few days but then I
never saw you again.  I'm so glad I was able to find you Jay!"

Ok, that did it, so what did I have here, a cute, bubbly, slightly off
center wacko who dressed well and prided himself in listening in on
conversations or what?  I wasn't in the mood nor was it the time to be that
polite so I glared at him and said, "Look, I really have no idea who you
are, what you want or if we've even met.  What I do know is I'm NOT glad
you were able to find me whatever your name is, got it?"  Then while I
continued to glare, giving off every negative signal I could, he finally
backed down and stepped away, no longer leaning in or inside my personal
space.  I'd done it, I had successfully gotten this jerk to leave me alone
and if he thought he knew me, well, now he didn't.  His smile was still
there but it, too, was very much toned down, more a polite one than a GLAD
WE MET one.

Softly he continued, now more trying to explain and I thought end this
chance meeting, "I'm Sean, you paid for your meals with a credit card and
no, I don't write down credit card numbers but I do like to glance at the
name so I can call people by their first names and that's how I know you're
Jay.  I remember you seemed sad most of the time; no one eating with you,
and you'd finish, pay and leave, never lingering.  You were always in a
business suit and had a PDA on the table, checking out appointments.  I do
remember the last time you gave me a smile and said thanks for the special
service; that really made me feel good!  So, ahhh, I really hoped the next
time you came in we could just talk as you seem like a really nice guy.
But then you never came back."

What he'd said did two things, I still didn't remember him but I did
remember the restaurant as I had just purchased a new PDA and was playing
with it, and had only done so at one restaurant, the one with the great
Italian food.  It also made me realize, he wasn't anything but open and
friendly, hoping I'd come back so we could hit up a conversation.  In a way
he seemed as lonely as I felt right then.  Then I did something I'd never
done before or since, I reached in my wallet and pulled out a business
card, and wrote my cell number on it, along with my personal email address.
While my mind was screaming, "Have you lost your MIND!  Stop, don't do
this, just walk away Jay, you IDIOT!" I handed him the card and smiled
back.

"I really don't have many friends here yet (lying, I had ONE and she worked
with me, big deal) and I'd love to hear from you again.  I'm glad I made
such a good impression on you Sean is it?  So yes, why don't you give me a
call sometime and let's go out for drinks, ahhh, that is if you do drink."

The smile was back in full; once again he was inside my personal space and
just about ready to bubble over in excitement.  Even though I was already
regretting giving him my business card all he could say was, "Hold on,
you're not going to believe this but I have a business card too!  Here,
there's my cell phone and that's my work phone and the name of the
restaurant.  Oh, wait; let me put my home address on the back."  When he
handed it back to me I glanced down and was stunned, he lived no more than
four or five blocks away from where I did!

"Sean?  You're not going to believe this; I just live up the street from
you!"  I took my card back and jotted down my address, always that creepy
feeling I was really sealing my fate and shouldn't be doing this was in my
mind, I couldn't shake it; then handed the card back to him.  He smiled and
then I think finally sensed my discomfort with the meeting.  He knew we
needed to end this and it was him that needed to do it.

"Great Jay!  Can never have too many friends, can you?  Tell you what, I'm
running late, need to get home and get a few things done; I have to be at
work in about four hours!  Please, give me a call, and soon.  My hours are
all over the place but I do return voice mail!  If you want, stop by the
restaurant at lunch, I'm usually there."  Then he backed up, us both much
more comfortable, and what he said while walking away made me wish I'd
never given him my card.

"I'm surprised someone like you isn't at home asleep with your loved one.
Guess there are others like me."

I stood there, not knowing what to think, should I tackle him, get the card
back, ignore it, what?  He WAS very cute/handsome with his almost black
hair, beautiful smile, and small frame.  Yet, no, he's just some crazy, go
home Jay!  So I shoved his card in my pocket and left, not even buying
anything.

Next time, Three Friends - Part 2 - Desires and Fears