The following fictional story deals with sex among males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area where it is not allowed, depart.
Though not observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.
The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.
Many thanks to Tim for proof reading this for me. He actually had me remove commas this time!
And finally...Dad, I'm keeping happy thoughts for your hectic life!
Ash - email@example.com
"Where were you?" she asked
I hated to tell her the truth!
She wasn't just a colleague; she was Constance DelTorro, my partner in the firm. ABCD Systems! We'd thought it was cute when we'd named the company, figured if we took on other partners we could work our way down the alphabet. Right now the "AB" portion of the name wasn't holding up his end of the bargain.
For six months now I'd coasted. Doing my job, eating, sleeping, talking to Jacob, but not living, and the "doing my job" portion definitely wasn't up to snuff! The will just wasn't there. The kid who had run the red light had gotten off with three hundred hours of community service. After I ranted and raved and talked to Deby, my lawyer, I had to accept the fact that I couldn't do a thing about it.
When I settled down and thought about it, I really couldn't argue with what the judge had done. I knew the intersection. It was nasty, one of those where you wonder what the engineer was on when he designed it. The accident had happened on a rainy, foggy, night. What could I say? Emotionally I had a hard time dealing with it. I wanted the little shit drawn and quartered; intellectually I had to accept that it really was an accident.
I had wanted to sell the house but friends had talked me out of it. They'd convinced me that doing that right after the funeral was foolish. I was "in a much too emotional state," they'd said. I should wait until "I had some time to think." This was another emotional/intellectual point that I had to accept.
They had been right; selling the house would have been a mistake. As much as it hurt sometimes to walk in the door, it was also a comfort to see and touch and feel the things that Jacob had done in the house. Definitely not a swishy fag, Jacob loved sports, running and working out, but he had the decorating sense of the prominent gay decorator stereotype. He had lovingly chosen all the paint colors, painting walls and trim and ceiling in ways that when described in words just didn't work. Walking into a room that he'd painted took your breath away. Even though I could never imagine his color schemes working, the final results showed that every color he chose worked in perfect harmony.
I often found myself sitting on the upholstered bench on the staircase landing, ostensibly reading but often finding myself daydreaming of Jacob and lovingly stroking the oak that he'd stripped and refinished to its original splendor. Wrapped in a fleece throw he'd loved, I found it my favorite place to cry, tears streaming down my cheeks as I breathed his scent from the fleece, and caressed the wood his hands had lovingly restored.
He was everywhere in the house! It was comforting to be there, probably to an unhealthy point if my friends could be believed.
Shortly after the funeral Patrick had started working on me to come and visit him in California. Evan and Tim had done the same. "Come whenever you want" they'd say "Whenever you're ready for some time away."
They were all wonderful, caring friends but I'd been paying lip service to actually visiting any of them. Facing people that had known Jacob and me, been "our" friends, facing the memories that came to the surface when I was with them, hurt too much at this point.
"Ash, you need to get away. You're not yourself and maybe getting out of that shrine you call home will do you good." Connie's voice was raised and she was looking me squarely in the eye.
I realized that I'd "checked out" yet again.
I cringed at her reference to the house but knew it was true. It was my "Jacob packed" refuge from reality. The only place I went other than work, and maybe the grocery store, and the store only occasionally. I'd taken to convenience foods when I ate at all.
I could tell that Connie had finally had enough. She'd been great during this time, pushed as much as she could, lay back when she thought I needed a break, but the truth was I wasn't pulling my weight, and she deserved better than that.
"Frankly, I'm hoping that some time off will help you get things together again." She wrapped me in a hug. "I love you, Ash, but you're doing more harm than good around here right now. You've got the vacation time so I've taken some liberties!"
Knowing Connie, I knew this would be good. She was a forceful person to begin with, but when she's got a plan, look out! Connie went on to tell me that she'd rearranged projects, managed to track down Patrick, gotten plane reservations, and that she'd watch the house.
"You're going to California, and that's it! Patrick is expecting you day after tomorrow"
The railroading was complete and thorough and in the end I realized, as she spoke, that it was a relief, both that the trip was arranged and that I'd be getting away.
Two days later, boarding the plane, I was pleased to see that it was less than full. I'm not a huge person but airline seats were not designed for any normal sized person, so I, like most other people I know, hated being crammed in to a full plane.
I was comfortably seated and getting my paperback out of my under seat bag when I saw a pair of jeans - clad legs stop at my aisle. Glancing just a bit higher I noted the packed crotch of a pair of Levi 501's, and the smooth hairless abs of a young man reaching to put something in the overhead compartment. My cock stirred without the help of my hand for the first time in months.
"Jacob, not here, stop, stop" I croaked under my breath, coming suddenly out of the book I had started reading right after take off. I realized, as I came back to reality, that he was draping a blanket over us, his right hand edging into my pants as he pretended to straighten it out.
The twinkle in his eye was all it took to melt my defenses. Leaning back I stifled a groan as his hand found what it was looking for. What a way to start a honeymoon!
Jacob had surprised me one other time like this. As his hand closed on my hardening organ I closed my eyes, letting my mind drift back to that time on the balcony at the Jersey shore. Could people on the street see that my Speedo was pulled down in the back? Was there anyone on another balcony that could see us? Could anyone see that Jacob was rubbing his drooling cockhead up and down my moist crack?
Despite my protests Jacob planted his helmet shaped head at my now slick opening and pressed. Before I knew it his cock was firmly implanted in my ass and he began to stroke. Moving slowly, I assume so that it just looked like we were standing there enjoying the ocean view, he would let the ridge of his cockhead pop from my butt on his out stroke, massaging my tender asshole. I was completely in his power, lost in the fantastic feelings he could produce.
My own body's response was evident on the flip side. My rigid cock was stuffed in the front of my partially removed Speedo, pressed against the railing, straining to get free. Me praying that it wasn't visible to people on the street below, or another balcony. As Jacob's thrusting increased in speed, he shifted his angle of attack, dropping his hips a bit to bring his flared cockhead into continuous contact with my button. This new angle pressed my drooling cock harder into the underside of the railing, threatening to bring me off any second.
Drawing me into a more upright stance Jacob licked the juncture of my neck and shoulder.
"Oh, God, Jacob" I moaned "there... right there... that goes right to my cock"
Once, twice, three times he ran his rough tongue over that spot before planting his open mouth and sucking deeply, circling his tongue!
"Ohhhhhhhhh!!" escaped my lips more loudly than I realized.
"Careful there guy" Jacob whispered in my ear. You'll attract an audience.
I could feel my spunk start to travel through my cock; my hips rocked back impaling myself on Jacob's rigid organ. Cum spurting into my Speedo, the feeling almost exquisitely painful because my flexing muscles had to force my spunk through my slit, trapped tightly against the silky lycra.
With my hips rocking in an uncertain rhythm, I could feel Jacob's body go rigid as his river of cum flowed into my ass. Jacob came big but not forcefully. When he exploded in my ass, I reveled in the feel of his cum lubing my channel, making his rod move more quickly. He liked to pull out so that he could ride his cock head in and out of my tender ass lips, letting his cock pulse two or three times and then press his full length into me, pushing his cum deep into my ass while simultaneously squishing some from my now loosened hole, making our connection slick and sticky.
I was brought back to reality by the kid knocking my arm as he dropped into his seat.
"Sorry, Sir! He said.
I noted the "sir," that particular bit of politeness being absent from most young peoples vocabulary, and took stock of my row mate as he settled in and I tried to find my place in my book.
He looked to be high school or early college age, close to 6 feet tall, dirty blond hair cut short and neat, and well dressed for a kid, no baggy/ratty clothes or unusual piercings (that I could see) and a faint cologne smell that kicked my pheromones into drive. His scent reminded me of Jacob.
Shaking my head a bit to focus, I finally found my place in the damn book, and sat back to begin reading, when the kid surprised me again. He reached over, hand held out to shake, and introduced himself as Shaun Johnston.
I grasped his hand, receiving a firm, "normal," handshake, not one of those new generation things that I could never understand. You know what I mean, link fingers, tap fists, rub your elbow, spit twice... I never got it right. I introduced myself, and for a few moments we exchanged the usual mindless pleasantries that complete strangers on planes exchange.
This exchange, the whole encounter for that matter, left me slightly taken aback. His self assured and forward manner was unusual now days. People just didn't introduce themselves anymore. As the flight attendants started making announcements he settled into his seat and buckled up. I found myself at an odd juncture; I hoped he wasn't one of those people who wanted to talk. I hated that. But then again, I hoped that he was. For right now I focused on my book and began to read.
I was vaguely aware of all the usual pre takeoff stuff, and the never-ending wait in the queue, and the changes in pressure as we attained altitude, but, as usual when I was flying, I was mostly engrossed in my book.
My mother used to hate it when I read. The house could have been on fire and I wouldn't have cared. Shaun finally shook me by the shoulder to get my attention.
"Hey, Mr. Bradley, the flight attendant was just by asking about drinks. You didn't even respond. I hated to disturb you but you know what they say, you should drink lots on long flights to fight off dehydration."
"Sorry Shaun, when I get into a book I really get absorbed into it I'm afraid. Thanks for bringing me back to reality, I really would like something to drink."
About that time the attendant came by again and I got bottled water and a bag of snack mix so small you needed a magnifier to identify it.
"Where you headed, Mr. Bradley?" Shaun asked.
"I'm headed for San Francisco to visit a friend, and if we're going to be conversing during this trip I insist that you call me Ash, I feel old enough right now. Mr. Bradley was my father."
He grinned at me, showing a set of almost perfect white teeth and a dimple on the right side. His smile was big enough that the corners of his eyes crinkled in a way that reminded me of Jacob, the second thing today, and I had to look away as my voice caught in my throat.
"Mr. Bradley, Ash...Ash, you there?"
"Sorry Shaun, checked out there for a minute. How about you, what takes you to sunny California on a Wednesday, and a school day?" I asked.
Many emotions crossed his face in the span of maybe three seconds, happy, sad, thoughtful and back to happy. His eyes reflected his emotions also, changing from the initial sparkle of happiness that made him look like a child, becoming darker somehow, sadder.
"Well I'm out of school, just graduated a week ago. I'm headed out to live with my uncle, he's in Union City." Shaun took a deep breath, "he's the family black sheep but he's agreed to take me in. My parents have decided that since I'm now out of school it would be better if I wasn't living at home. My uncle was the only alternative."
A small chuckle escaped my lips!
"Pardon me for saying this Shaun, and I know that this comment will cement my age at almost prehistoric, but on first impression you seem like a really nice young man. You're introducing yourself to me and carrying on this conversation show a level of maturity most young men don't have. I can't imagine why your parents would want you to move out."
"I couldn't imagine it either. Excuse me!" Shaun got up abruptly and headed aft, I assumed to the bathroom.
When he returned Shaun settled heavily into his seat and started rummaging in his carryon ignoring me completely. Pulling out a magazine he flipped it open, turned slightly away from me, and started to read. For all practical purposes it seemed as if our conversation hadn't taken place at all.
As he'd placed the blanket over us, his hand snaked into my pants. I'd resisted, just until he grabbed my loose hanging nuts and kneaded them two or three times. I was a sucker for having my nuts played with. It had been a warm day today, and after the wedding, the reception had been outside. So my sweaty balls were hanging low in my boxer briefs, new ones snowy white and soft.
Jacob rolled my nuts a bit more before moving his finger lower into my sweaty crack, gently rubbing my taint, moving lower and lower, his actions forcing me lower in my seat, spreading my legs as much as an airline seat would allow. He circled my moist anal portal several times before bringing his hand from my pants. Turning to look me in the eyes he brought his finger toward his face. Inhaling deeply of my scent he then slipped his tongue out and lightly licked the finger.
"Hmmmmm" a muffled growl escaped his lips.
"Ahhhhh" escaped from my own lips. Just knowing that my Jacob was tasting and smelling my musky butt caused my hardon to spit more lube. I brought my hand down and groped my raging erection through my pants, feeling it throb. Jacob smiled one of his semi-evil smiles, and, without ever taking his eyes from mine, planted his hand back in my pants.
With my cock pointed to the left and his right hand in my pants it was a fairly comfortable position for him to start a slow jerk. Gently rubbing up and down my shaft, rubbing a finger over my piss slit, spreading the lube my cock was drooling, it seemed only seconds before I felt my cum rising. Jacob could tell, I was easy in that respect. As I was about to cum my cock swelled, I tensed and started breathing in little gasps, and there was always a final large ooze of lube. Taking note of those indications Jacob brought his hand to the head of my cock as I started spraying cum. Trying to stifle my gasps I lost track of my shots, knowing only that the thrill of Jacob bringing me off coupled with the possibility of getting caught, had made this one hell of a cum.
Jacob pulled his hand from my pants, licked my cum off of his fingers in a way that would make gay boys anywhere swoon. With a final coy smile at me he leaned his seat back and relaxed, as if nothing at all had happened.
I had gone back to my book, and must have dozed off because I was once again awakened by Shaun shaking me. His eyes were glistening with barely suppressed tears as he hastily apologized for his behavior.
"Mr. Bradley, I'm sorry for the way I acted. You see, I'm gay, and came out to my family a while back. Life at home has been, strained, to say the least. Once I graduated Mom and Dad decided that my uncle would understand me. He's gay you see. I guess I just haven't adjusted to the fact that my folks can't handle this. I'm barely 18 and I just don't know what's going to happen."
He turned his back to me then and left me feeling more than a little perplexed. Obviously he was young and confused, probably scared, but why tell me and then turn away.
Jacob had always said I could be, how did he put it, "as thick as brick", so it took me a while to realize that he probably didn't know how I would react and turned away to eliminate any negative reaction on my part.
Reaching over I laid a hand on his shoulder feeling his body tense at my touch.
Grasping him and pulling him around to face me I spoke softly to him.
"Shaun" I took a deep breath and continued.
"Shaun, it's all right, I'm not going to judge or condemn you. I may, however, pass judgment on your parents for turning out what appears to me to be a fine young man, but I will definitely not judge you. You've got enough to deal with, your being gay makes no difference to me."
Turning back to me, his eyes glistening with tears, Shaun appeared to visibly relax. I pulled his head down, resting his forehead on my shoulder as best we could in the confines of the plane seats, wrapping my arm around his shoulder in what I hoped was a reassuring hug.
Raising his head up to look me in the eye, his voice was ragged as he spoke.
"Thank you Ash, it means a lot that you'll still talk to me. The few friends I told don't seem to be friends anymore, and my parents won't talk about it. I didn't realize that these days there were still so many people with such limited capacity for understanding."
I had to chuckle to myself. His statement showed that he was still a kid, not quite in tune with the realities of life. I hoped that where he was going the reality of being gay would be more accepted than it was where he was coming from.
"Well, I hope that in California you can meet people who will accept you as you are, and that you can get to accept yourself. I think you'll find that "gay" is a bit more accepted there than it is where you're coming from."
"Ash, why doesn't my being gay bother you?"
My mind covered so much territory in the following seconds that I'm surprised I didn't have a black out.
Was this a time for the truth, or was it none of his business?
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