Date: Sat, 5 Aug 2017 16:09:12 +0000 From: Bobby Joe None Subject: The Fantasy in My Head-A Gay Love Story This is a totally new story from a relatively-new writer, here. [This story is fiction, and belongs in the gay male-encounters section.] The story and the title belongs to the author, who has also written under the same pen-name in the past for "Handjobs" magazine, unfortunately no longer published. It is based on real-life events, yet the names and circumstances have been changed, so the actual people will remain anonymous, as the events are over several years' time [as mentioned below], and occurred with several different people, yet the scenarios were combined into one or two characters, for simplicity's sake. The mention of the Twelve-step programs is for reference to the author's background, and are kept in the realm of your author's experience, and keeping the anonymity of the groups. The references to the Christian faith are also mentioned in reference to the author's background. If you are offended by such mention, please close out this story, as there may be several mentions of such, throughout this and other stories I have written. They are but one man's experience, and in reference to life through that particular avenue of understanding, and is a PART of my past, yet it does not represent the whole of my life, by ANY stretch of the imagination! Other business: I understand the terms of publication on Nifty.org, and agree to those listed; that there is no compensation for the story in any form, that it may appear on other websites as a part of the USENET network [et al]. If you wish to contact the author, please do so at CAfurrball5@outlook.com. Due to the potential volume of mail, responses are not guaranteed, although I may read them, regardless of the nature of the comments, positive or negative. "Fire-laced" or "flaming" letters will be ignored, and disposed of, so if you are incapable of staying away from the "poison-pen" aspect of writing to the authors, don't bother sending comments, as I will also block the possibility of any future connection to/with you. And along those same lines, the pen-name I use is a pseudonym, as I prefer to remain anonymous, for that very same reason. The nifty.org website would appreciate any and all contributions, to keep the website running. Please consider donating, as your personal finances allow. The Fantasy in My Head: A Gay Love Story ---Bobby Joe He stands six-five, and weighs in at about three hundred pounds, I think. While not hirsute like myself, the moderate spray of chest fur is like icing on the proverbial cake. Not fat, but solid, with a tiny bit of extra padding around the middle. A thirty-something at that time, I was surprised in recent weeks to discover he just turned forty. A nice younger man, kind...a gentle giant as it were...he was an object of my lust for a while. One time on a men's retreat weekend, our leader had us do a process about some things that had been bothering us, and I volunteered mine, as I didn't want anything standing in the way between "The Man" and I. Fighting myself to let a small part of a secret out or not, my words were along the lines of "Scott carries a father-energy that is distracting to me, and at the same time it attracts me. It's hard for me to concentrate when I am around him, as he is a part of my feeling of wanting to be protected by my father, and feeling safe." There, I said it! I don't honestly remember much more of what was said, however, the young man did thank me later on, as he never thought much about carrying the father image/father-energy. Later on, as we said our goodbyes, I must have looked at him too intensely, as I would later find out there was more in my looking at him that day than I intended. Later, on another men's retreat, I had the opportunity to see the man naked, and – "oh, boy!" – the man's total hunky-ness caught my attention and I found myself staring. Whether he caught me looking or not, I didn't then know, but I felt the ACTUAL connection had no chance of ever happening, until one day when there was a knock on my door, and there stood the man of my dreams, in the flesh, and I damn-near passed out from shock, if nothing else! "Scott, what on earth? What're you doing down here in San Diego? I thought you lived up in Riverside County!" "Shush, bro. I need to talk, and YOU need to listen! May I please come in? I drove all the way down here, specifically to see you, and get something out in the open." "Well, of course. You want some water or something?" "Nope. Just need to talk." "OK. Well then, sit down, please. You have my total attention." Frankly, I had been dreading this for a while, especially so after I had checked him out on that men's-retreat weekend when I saw him in all his naked glory. I have to admit, I was CERTAINLY impressed, as his flaccid cock was about five inches, kinda thick, with a couple of nice-looking – yet rather large – low-hangers. In short, VERY MUCH "The Man"! My guess as to the reason for his sudden appearance at my door, though, was definitely NOT what I thought it would be! "Bobby Joe, this is not easy for me to talk about. In fact, it is not even what I really thought I would EVER be saying to you, initially. The admission you made in that process we went through together that one weekend was something you needed to say, yes, and I am certainly glad you did – for you, especially – as it seemed to clear the air and take away a block I felt we had between us. Your admission that you are gay was not a surprise, nor I disrespect you for it. Yet..." Looking at the man at that moment, I believed I actually saw fear. I wondered – then – what was coming. I didn't have to wait long. "...Yet...I saw something in your eyes that day as we said goodbye that told me you wanted something MORE from me, and something that you suspected you would never get from me. You were – and are – wanting me to let go and say something to you, aren't you?" "Well, yeah!" "You're wanting me to let go and tell you what I really think of you, aren't you? You fear it, yet honestly, Bobby Joe, I fear saying it, much more than you may EVER fear hearing it!" "You drove all the way down here for a reason, Scott. YOU tell me what you want to say to me, then It's up to ME, how to deal with it. I am an adult. I will handle it the best way I know how." Scott's eyes looked downward, as if he was looking for the words. In that moment, he almost looked as if he was ready to cry. I was concerned about the man's emotional health, yet I knew he had driven that distance to say something that was important TO HIM, and that would wind up being even MORE important TO ME. I was determined to wait it out, regardless of how long it took. "Bobby Joe, your eyes told me "I wish Scott would let go of his fear." It told me that you knew that I was holding on to something that I was scared to death of admitting, and yes, that is what it is. The way you looked at my naked body that day you caught me in the locker room told me that there IS a fear in me, that I was actually OK with you seeing me naked. In fact, I had REALLY been wanting you to look, for a while now, as I am not ashamed of what God gave me, in that department, and I actually wanted to see the want in your eyes. More than that, though, Bobby Joe, after seeing the look in your eyes as we said goodbye at the end of that one retreat when you had completed that process with me, that I was afraid of saying that I – sincerely – have found that...I...I love you. It's not just the typical brotherly-love type of thing that we Christian guys have with our brothers, but it's something more than that. When I saw you looking at me, I felt like you were saying "I dare you to come over here and hug me the way I want to be hugged, naked, and not be afraid of our bodies touching each other, close up, to feel close, for our penises to come together, and not fear being seen as being gay. Honestly, Bobby Joe, I don't know what the fear is TOTALLY about there, but I do fear that, and saying..." He looked at me intently, in the moment, and hesitated... "...that...that.....I...I love you, and I realized that you mean more to me than I initially felt. When you told the brothers and I that weekend that I represented a father-type image, I was proud to hear you tell me that, as I knew that must have been really difficult for you to admit, especially so to me, in front of the other brothers. Yet, when you looked at me in the eyes that day, as we said our goodbyes, it was almost – even then, BEFORE you saw me naked – that you were DARING me to be more forthcoming. It took standing there in front of you, stark naked, that you wanted more-intimate touch from me, you wanted me to come to you and hug you, a full body-hug, in the nude, and have our cocks touch each other. I realized two nights ago that my feelings for you were – and ARE – stronger than my feelings of love I have for our other brothers, and I truly "need" you in my life, to tell me how much you admire me, and how much I had resisted being around you, because everyone in our community knows you are gay. Bobby Joe, I'm so...sorry. I didn't, and don't, want to hurt you, of all people! I don't know what all this means, however, I do know you are one of the most sensitive, most spiritually tuned-in man I think I've ever met – that is tuned in to the REAL Spirit of God – and the most loving and openly affectionate in a respectful way I've ever experienced. It's like a wonderful, embracing CARE of others that simply doesn't quit, regardless of the love being reciprocal or not. I want to give you myself, but yeah, there is a fear there, as I am a man in a homophobic society, and in the Christian church, that's pretty much a "no-no," yet I am feeling I need to give myself to you, and allow myself to love, freely, and without those fears." Scott sat back on the sofa, then. I waited to make sure he had finished what he was going to say. After a couple of minutes of total silence, he took me in his arms, and kissed me, sweetly, and a great deal more affectionately than most men ever dared to, even the closest of my Christian brothers. "You're making me leak, dude...aw fuck, Bobby Joe! I feel like a teenager again! I want your naked body up against mine, man! I want to feel your penis kiss mine, and to rub up against each other in a real, passionate kiss. I don't know what this all means, but I want to give myself to you. Are you willing, or have I hurt you too much in the past by keeping my distance, out of fear more than anything?" "Scott, I am actually QUITE honored by your admission, and quite pleasantly surprised, of course! I am pleased that you are able to admit that, and even if it doesn't go any farther, your admission that you have found a deeper love inside you for me than most men have is telling me you are not afraid anymore. Do you have ANY idea of just HOW hot and hunky I think you are? I don't think you do! Your body-stature, that is a man over six feet tall, and a big, husky man, is a HUGE plus in my book. I see a lot of what I find MOST attractive in a man, in you. The body fur is a plus, a BIG plus in my book, as the masculinity our gender represents is absolutely MAGNIFICENT!!! Your thick, solid pectorals represent strength, a strength I've always felt I lack, although I know – now, in my later years – that I, also, am stronger than I realized, as I have survived thus far, and know how to protect myself from being hurt due to the fact that I am a gay man. That said, though, those powerful, ABSOLUTELY POWERFUL-looking pecs make the total look all the more "hunky!" Your beautiful, thick penis, and those big ol' heavy, low-hangers underneath it, make a portrait of manhood that I've always enjoyed seeing, and always will. As a gay man, I love those parts of yours, would definitely love touching them, and playing with them, and – yes – I'd love to give that beautiful manhood of yours some loving and certainly WELL-DESERVED attention, by giving you head, AND swallowing your semen. Your bulky, hairy legs make mine look downright puny, yes, even as big as I am! For me, yes, body hair makes the man, I readily admit. I haven't paid much attention to your booty, admittedly, as I have only recently become an "ass-man," however, as solid as you are in front, you probably are in the back, too, then that is only MORE icing on the cake, as it were." Scott had been sitting there, taking it all in. After he was sure I had finished saying what I had intended to say, he fell into my arms, and began slowly, and affectionately, French-kissing me. It was tender, and more than I thought I would be getting from him. I wondered how he knew what to do, and how to do it, yet knowing he may have already had an idea before these moments, AND knew that was what he wanted. The man slowly undressed me. Finally, I was naked, and began to undress Scott. His shirt came unbuttoned easily, and I brought my hands up, rubbing my open hands through the fur covering his powerful-looking pectorals. Unzipping the man's slacks, I reached into his boxer-briefs and pulled out his totally wonderful, thickening penis, already an impressive eight inches at nearly-full mast, with its beautiful, mushroom-shaped head, and a piss-slit leaking heavily with an overly-adequate supply of pre-cum. I did not hesitate, immediately going to work on his totally-magnificent piece of manhood. It was a taster's delight, and having the man's rock-hard cock – with its fine, soft flesh surrounding the rod – in my mouth, I left the head of his cock resting on my tongue and then surrounded it with my mouth, all too soon causing him to moan, quite loudly. "Awwww, man!!!!! You're TOO good at that Bobby Joe!!!!! I'm gonna cum soon if you don't stop!!!!!" "Let it happen, bud! I'll take you now, and then give you a more proper blow-job, later on, when you've recovered from this one. Let it blow, man!!! Blast my face and mouth full of your virile man-cream!!!" Applying suction to the head of his cock, and twirling my tongue around it, I felt him tense up. All too soon, Scott began to shake, and his load began filling my mouth. I left it in my mouth, so I could taste his masculine essence. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" I kept up with his semen flow, and swallowed some, but came close to losing a bit, as his load was plentiful, a wonderful sign of his younger years. I wondered how he felt about being single, yet he seemed OK with it, although he – as so many other men I've met over the years – feel awkward being single after the age of thirty-five, so many it was a bit sad to me, and remains so to this day. Fear of being seen as less-than, I guess, or fear of being seen as gay. I was not overly concerned about that, at that moment, rather I was enjoying having his penis deflating in my mouth, as his orgasmic experience finally brought him back to reality, once again. Bringing me up into his arms, Scott adjusted his body and laid across the top of my body, purposefully bringing his spent cock up and alongside mine, and rubbing up and down against it. "There, that's more like what I wanted, and imagined it would be." The smile on his face showed he was enjoying the experience. "You SURE about this, Scott? I don't want you doing this, if you aren't ready for it. It's a big step, my handsome young friend." "I'm here, am I not? I'm the one laying across you, and bringing our two cocks together, right? If I didn't want this, then it would not be happening." We just laid there, for a while. His penis began swelling again, and he began a session of frotting that brought me close to blowing my load, in a matter of only a couple of minutes of close contact. "Mmmm...this feels good, bro. I love feeling my cock against yours. Try to hold off if you can, man. I want your cum when you blow, so let me know when you're ready, OK? "Mmmmm...mmmm" "I'll take that as a yes." "Yes, Scott. I'm just loving this. Hope this is everything you wanted it to be." "My cock loves your cock, apparently as much as I love you. I think we're bonded in brotherhood forever, now, man. Your cock is vibrating. You ready?" "Yep. Take it!!!" Scott went immediately to my cock as my cum started flying, and he caught every drop. "You swallowed my cum? Wow..." "You and I are both men, Bobby Joe. You don't eat your own cum? I do! I've been doing it since I first started spunking, at age twelve. Been eating my own cum, ever since. Mmmmmm...tastes good, dude!!! "Yeah, I do, however, I don't know if I would admit it to anyone else. So many are afraid of appearing gay, even in the slightest." "I'm here voluntarily, Bobby Joe. I finally figured out what I want. I may be gay, or bi, I don't know, but I do know I want you in my life, as we had already bonded, a long time ago. I just didn't figure it out until recently. Now, I know I love you, dearly, and want to spend time with you, and make love with you. I love this, Bobby Joe!!! I love feeling your body, all of it, against me, like this. I want more of it. I want to see you this way, maybe at least every other week, or at least one weekend a month, anyway! I'm tired of living life alone." Scott's nipples were hard as little rocks. His penis was fully engorged, and I began rubbing mine against his. His lips went to my neck then, as he began kissing me, and licking me. "Mmmmm...yeah, Scott! Your tongue action is being felt down below, dude!!! I'm plumping up!!!" "That's what I want, Bobby Joe. I want to bring you off with my body. You game?" "Yeah, go for it, man!" Scott had obviously done this before, as our cocks stayed rock-hard, as he ran his up and down, alongside mine. "I wish we could stay like this forever, Bobby Joe. Your body against mine feels WONDERFUL!!!" "Same here, Scott." We spent several minutes in passionate love-making, sliding up and down each-others' bodies, keeping in contact with the other man's cock, at all times. His pectorals, solid-feeling as they were and pliable, were in my face, several times, and I took full-advantage of those times by licking his rock-hard nips. He just about fell apart when I began sucking them. Finally, he laid his head on my shoulder as his cock rubbed furiously against mine, and the friction between our two bodies sent us into orgasmic bliss. "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!" Scott's noise-making while he fucked was outrageously male, and sexy as all hell! Spontaneous orgasms don't happen often, yet his cock began shooting its payload out onto my stomach and chest, which triggered mine, as my cock rubbed against his, and the pressure from above and the stimulation against the side of it triggered my second, and even more intense, orgasm. He reared up on me as his cock fairly spewed its payload, and let out a scream that could easily have been heard outside, even through closed windows! "RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!" Growling myself, my cum had shot out of my cock at an easy one hundred miles per hour, or at least, that's how it felt. I missed the first shot getting in his mouth, which he had impetuously opened when he heard me getting ready to blow. The remaining six shots landed on the wall, behind his head. "Fuuuuuuuck, Bobby Joe! I haven't had an orgasm like that since the first time my ex and I made love! "Scott, I'm your first guy, aren't I?" "Yeah, and I am glad it was you, too. You're the kind of guy I want to be, Bobby Joe, and the kind of guy I want to spend the rest of my life with! You are very sensitive, and that is an asset, in my book. Besides that, you are a GREAT kisser!!!" He put his forehead against mine and kissed me tenderly. Giving in to the big man was easy. Giving him what I wanted him to have, to take away from this – his first experience with another guy – would be a sense of camaraderie, and love for a fellow male, beyond a bromance, more like a TRUE romance. Placing my hand over his pec, I rubbed against it, trying to grab it and knead it. I didn't have much to grab, as he was – and still is – pretty solid. I did the same to the other side, and then rubbed my hands over each and gently pushed into his skin. The nipples responded in near-record time. "Mmmmmmm...that feels good. You want to suck my nipples? They're super-sensitive this morning." "Yeah, man. I love men's chests. They look so powerful, and they represent power to me. Did you wrestle in high school, or maybe college? You're still pretty solid." "Both, actually. You seem to know something, more than the average man, don't you?" "About you, personally, brother, no, but I DO know some wrestlers get off on each-others' bodies, being rock solid as you guys usually are. Sniffing other guys' crotches and pits, sometimes, too. Wish now I had done some of that, myself, however, how could I have known? I didn't even start coming out until I was twenty-four! Still, man, those guys' chests, WHEW!!! I just want to eat you guys alive, that's all!" "Then why don't you? I'm game! Lick me all over, enjoy the feel of the smoothness of my skin against your tongue...breathe in the scent of a man! Go ahead..." My hands gently cupped his left, then his right, pectoral. The ridge of the pectoral muscle was – and is – prominently featured on Scott's torso, as his pec was perfectly rounded, for a man, and his nipples pointed down at an angle to the floor. We've probably all seen his physique, many times over, in different magazines, and porn movies, yet he was a flesh-and-blood example of what many hours spent in the gym or health club each week can do for a man who is diligent about his workouts. The man laying next to me was a perfect example of prime, Grade-A beef. I couldn't get enough of his pectorals, so I pushed upward on each one at the same time, to see what it looked like when it was more prominent. While Scott's body was perfection in the flesh, he was also one man whose desires were still in a world unknown to me – with him being straight up to that day, and me being gay – yet I wanted to show him how much I truly worshipped his body, and how bad I had it for him. The pectorals were merely one aspect of his body I wanted to more fully explore, that day, and hopefully, well into the night. The scent of the man alone was worth the price of admission to any "show" he wished to put on, and I secretly wished he would do just that, and show me the REAL Scott!!! "Now it's MY turn to say it...YOU know something don't you?" "Beyond what you told me about you, no. I do know that I did that, and then some, as I enjoyed the body contact. I may have been hopelessly straight back in those days, Bobby Joe, and wanted to stick this cowboy dick up some girls' cunts – that's plural, meaning a whole bunch of girls – but I also liked what I saw in the showers, as our masculine image is just SO fucking hot!!!" "Funny, then, that you've waited all these years, my friend, to realize that, in the flesh I mean!" "Yeah, true, but it wasn't until a couple of months ago when you saw me in the shower room at the campground we had our men's retreat at, that I fully understood that there's something about that all-male experience, and being around all of my brothers at that retreat made me realize the powerful experience it was, and is, when I am with other men. IT'S AS IF I CAN'T GET ENOUGH! Like, I'm glued to the floor!!! Bobby Joe, I want to reach out and touch – and hold – each man's penis in my hand, and feel the absolute heft of the organ, feel him chub up, and see those powerful chests, and arms, and legs, and their entire body, and just breathe in the masculine scent of manhood!" "Your experiences, of feeling your own real wants, and needs, and are going through what I went through, when I first started realizing I was going to be homosexually-oriented, back in those days we called it that, now it's called being gay – or at least in the gay community it is – and has been since Stonewall. Can you believe that was almost FIFTY years ago, in June of 1969? Wow..." "I've kinda always sensed that, Bobby Joe, and like you once said, you knew it when you saw the guys in the showers in middle-school – I guess you guys called it Junior High, back in those years – and knew the draw was very real. I knew it in my mind, but my soul refused to believe it, `cause – like you – I, also grew up in a VERY conservative, very ANTI-gay, church. I guess I'm starting to come out, huh?" "Yeah, but don't go telling others until YOU are ready, and don't try to force it when you do, nor should you allow others talking you into coming out, before YOU are ready, either!!! You'll know when it's time. Most people really don't care anymore, so it's not the big deal it was when I started to come out in '79, and I made a lot of mistakes by doing so, when it really wasn't necessary. In doing so, though, if the other person asks, fine, be open about being gay, but there really is a lot to be said for being quietly gay, too, even if the gay community doesn't think there is. I enjoy the single life. If people want to think of me in that manner, how can I stop them? Most of my acquaintances and friends are men. I like it that way! Anyone who knows me knows I never wanted to get married, as I saw all my friends from school, one by one, get married, and in ten years or less, were absolutely miserable. They loved their wives, or at least most of them did, but they didn't like being tied down like that. They ALL loved their kids, but wish they hadn't gotten married so early in life. We all make choices in life, my friend. I just knew myself well enough to know that being married to a woman was not going to be my lot in life, as I could not stay out of the adult bookstores and – later – the gay bathhouses and theatres. I knew I was gay, yeah, but I also knew – more importantly – that I could not be monogamous. So, I decided I needed to be "a confirmed bachelor." It's worked out pretty well for me. And, in case you are wondering, anything you say here, stays here. What I do in my bedroom is MY business, and no one else's. I do NOT kiss and tell, and expect the same from my other contacts. No one will ever know that you have been with me, as I am not going to tell. If you tell on yourself, that's another story, but it won't come from MY mouth, just so you know." "Thanks, Bobby Joe. I have the day off today as well as the weekend, so do you mind it if I stick around?" "No, don't mind it, at all! It's actually a pleasant diversion, as I was just going to do some housework, and read a book. You are welcome to stay the entire weekend, if you want. I welcome the company! The fact that you are a big, beautiful HUNK like you are, and one helluva sweet guy, makes it all the more wonderful for me!" "Wow, you think *I* am a big, beautiful HUNK? How about YOU?" "What other people think about me is none of my business, Scott." "Well, I DO think you are a totally wonderful, big ol' cuddly teddy-bear of a guy, and really fun to be with, both in AND out of the bedroom! Being the person you are is – to me – an extra, added bonus, and I'm glad I came down here, today." "I'm glad you did, too, Scott, and trusted me with your secrets. That was really special, in my book, as I believe each man's story is uniquely his own. I can tell you this, as I know you well enough now to know you will keep the confidence, however, I also sensed – right at our first meeting – that you had a deep burden of some sort, and were really weighed down by it. Is this visit finally lifting that burden?" "Yeah, it is. When I saw you that weekend at the retreat, Bobby Joe, standing there nude and drying off, I felt a deep pain, and I do mean it was a DEEP PAIN, and a DEEP SADNESS that was kinda overwhelming, come over me. I didn't say anything, of course, `cause I didn't want to deal with it then, and it was so VERY heavy that I didn't want to make everybody else as "blue" as I was feeling. I felt no one would understand. Now, seeing you here today, and talking to you, and now having had my first adult encounter with another man, I am feeling that heaviness slowly leaving me." Looking at this wonderful younger brother, I just felt like he needed some love at that very moment, and the physical support of another man who understood just what being gay really meant. I stepped over to where he was standing at that moment, and embraced him as if I never wanted to let him go, cradling – and then rubbing – the back of his head as one would an infant. He instinctively rested his head on my shoulder, and we just stood there for a few minutes. Finally, he lifted his head up and I kissed him gently, and tenderly. His lips started quivering first, and he slowly began to cry, then - after a brief time – he started sobbing. I could see it coming a mile off, and remember my first few times with my first partner, and how freeing that was, even crying in his arms, crying out all the frustration of years of missed opportunities and missed relationships, mostly due to other boys' – later mens' – homophobia. I stood there and let Scott wail, which he did, for quite some time. Slowly, he began to calm down again. I was right. He needed a shoulder to cry on, literally, and probably for the first time in his life, he let go of all the "stuff" that had accumulated over his then forty years on the planet; nearly all of them apparently spent – knowing in the back of his mind at least – that he would probably turn out to be gay. I had complete sympathy with the man. "I'm sorry, Bobby Joe. I don't usually cry around others, and most certainly NOT like that!!!" "Shhhh...no need to be sorry, beloved brother. You needed that, apparently worse than I did, my first time. I did it again, later on, when I did my fifth step with my first sponsor in the twelve-step groups. And again with my second partner when I knew no one else would understand why a thirty-something man would be crying his eyes out when his Dad died. So you see, I understand those tears. They mean something to me, and they also show me your vulnerable side, a side I believe no one else has ever seen, based on your reaction to my love and care for you." "Yeah, I wouldn't. And, I couldn't. Especially so not with other men, of course, or they would have ripped me to shreds, had they seen me as even in the slightest weak, or needy, and you already KNOW that." "Uh, huh. Sure do! You see, now, why I am the way I am, right?" "Yep, and I knew I could trust you with it." "You having driven two hours down here to see me told me that something was seriously bothering you. That, and my prayers were – in a good way – answered, as I pray for you guys, that you are OK, and if not, you would seek out a brother to talk to." Scott's smile was priceless in that very moment, as I knew we had – together – broken through a barrier to his softer side, and one he did not feel comfortable with showing to just anyone. Honestly, I felt blessed beyond words with the company of this big, beautiful man. "I sure am proud of you, Scott, that you were willing to be vulnerable with me. I hope you don't think I took advantage of you by..." Scott covered my mouth with his hand, and wouldn't let me talk. "Not one more word about that! You did NOT take advantage of me!!! I came here willingly, because I knew I could trust you with my gay feelings, and I knew you WOULD NOT take advantage of me!!! You are SUCH a sweet, loving, kind and caring man that I thought of you – actually, I HAVE been thinking about you – for months, now, since you told us at that one retreat that I carried a strong "Father-type of energy," and represented something of strength to you. That started me to thinking more about you. Then, when we saw each other in the shower room at the campground and YOU DIDN'T try to get close or anything, I knew you had something inside you that I wanted, and that was an inner peace, that you DIDN'T absolutely-positively "HAVE TO" have me, sexually, as other gay men have tried to get me that way in the past. When I realized you didn't "take advantage of me, OR the opportunity" that day, I knew you were "The One" I wanted to come out to, AND "The One" I wanted to have my first experience with, separately or on the same day didn't – and doesn't – matter." Humbling beyond mere words, I stood there for a minute or so, as tears filled my eyes, realizing Scott had carried this for months, and had not ever – apparently – shared it with ANYONE, until he shared it with me, that day. I wondered when it became so big and heavy that he could no longer carry it. "When I saw you in the showers at the campground that day. I knew then that "this beautiful, cuddly Daddy-bear is so FUCKING handsome it was ripping me apart to keep the secret. When I put the pieces together – the attraction to you as a bear AND my feelings over many months' time about you, and about feeling that I may also be gay, and that I cannot and would not deny it any longer. I think I maybe blew five loads that first night at home, thinking of you. My ex wasn't around anymore, so I had total privacy. I also looked in the mirror that night, and talked to myself, and admitted to the man in the mirror that I am probably gay, and needed to start accepting that that was probably the way it is going to be, now, and that I could no longer go back to the old life I once had, as it was long-gone, and I could not deny the truth, especially so to myself." "You've come a long way already, Scott. I did the same "man in the mirror admission," back in `79. Started to let people know me a little more than before. When my parents asked me what to say when they were asked about me not being married at the age of – then twenty-four – I said "just say I prefer the company of other men, that when I seek COMPANIONSHIP, I seek out other men," and that there was nothing more that actually NEEDS to be said, after that. That answered their question, however, it took a few months, I guess, to fully realize I meant what I said, about preferring the company of other men. They weren't really very happy about it – at all, I suspect – but they eventually came around and knew that I would not have been happy, had I chosen to get married, and live the so-called "straight" life. That said, though, they always let me know they loved me, anyway, yet THEY wish I had made different choices. I finally said "this isn't a choice, as I knew I was attracted to other boys when I was six." They finally relented and started to actually tell people who asked that "our son is gay." I was surprised – AND pleased, of course – to realize they finally had given up on making me straight, and admitting that their son is gay." In the few minutes we had been talking, Scott and I had drifted over to the room-sized sofa I had, and sat down on it, more like half-sitting and half-laying. "There's always a lot of questions, at first, Scott, so I hope you always feel like you can talk to me about anything, OK? Call me, come down and talk to me whenever you want to, e-mail me, or whatever, my door is always open to you, especially so now that you are starting the process of coming out, however – and I believe most important for anyone to remember – it's a process, NOT an event!!! You'll be coming out, to some extent at least, starting now and for the rest of your life. And, if you feel comfortable with it and want to do something with someone you feel "safe" with, by all means, you are always welcome here, for an afternoon, a weekend or for the rest of your life, if you feel that way." "Mmmmmm...that would be wonderful, of course, but..." Now, it was my turn to stop him, mid-sentence. "No, no "buts" about it. You are always welcome here." A little trickle of a tear came from the corners of Scott's eyes, and I knew I had made my point. "For you, dear friend, I want my home to be open, and you to always feel this is a safe space to bring those burdens to, even if you just need to "hang out," and don't have anything you want to talk about. I had one young man in the neighborhood, several years ago now, asked if he could have his first encounter with another man here, with a friend of his, that they had no place else to go, as they were both eighteen, and didn't own cars of their own yet, and couldn't even rent a motel room. So, I allowed it, and they had a few encounters here. His buddy had to move away later that year, as the young man's parents relocated for job concerns. The young men both go to the same college, now, so they see each other all the time, and since they are roomies in the same dorm, they have all the privacy they want. It looks more and more these days like they may even become partners, which I am happy for them, about, of course." "Sometimes, Bobby Joe, I wonder if my heart could take another mate – after the divorce – and sometimes I do feel the pain of the single life, yet – like you – if it happens for me again, it happens, and I won't complain, but I am not going to go out, actively looking for it. I figure it as, "if the timing is right, it'll happen," and if it just winds up that I have a couple of friends with benefits, well then, that's OK, too." "That's actually a good thing, too, in my view. Too many men feel like they absolutely "MUST" get married, not even realizing that not everyone truly "needs" to be married. What is it that compels them so? It's almost as if the title "married man" on their list of things they are is and that – being married – has to be at the top of their list, sort of like "HUSBAND, Dad, their current job title at work, uncle and/or grandfather to several, friend to many, poker player to some, blah, blah, blah. What's that about?" "I know. You'd be surprised to hear my parents ask, damn near every time we get together after church or whatever, "when you gonna settle down and get married, again?" It's like they can't STAND the idea that I may not want to get married again!" Scott's whole countenance had changed, dramatically, in the three or so hours he had spent in my home. His hands reached out for me then, and I found myself being pulled up into his arms. "Now, then, about that desire to run your face through my chest hair, and rest your head here, and I do mean right here," he said, pointing to his magnificent fur-covered pectorals, "why don't you just go ahead, rest your head I mean, and let ME be that Lord-Protector you so badly desire. I'll keep watch over you, dear brother, and be my brother's keeper, this afternoon, and always. And, like the song says, "Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around"!" [*1] Scott's pelt was a warm, safe, and certainly loving space, and I soon found myself fast asleep, and The Man fell asleep as well, with his head on top of mine, arms around me tightly, with his wonderfully rock-hard body beside me. The warmth of the afternoon sun kept us in its embrace, as we dreamt of the days of chivalry, of knights and kings, and of two young men in love, one a king's son, and one a former shepherd-boy named David, who later would become King over all of Israel. In that moment, I certainly felt like a king! And my "knight" came to me to complete that picture, right when I least expected, yet when – and HOW – I really "needed" it. Author's notes: [*1] "Not While I'm Around" – Music and Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, from the Broadway soundtrack "Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street," copyrights unknown. As I mentioned in the introduction to this story, this story is fiction, based on some real-life stuff, and my interactions with SEVERAL different men, over several YEARS' time. The mention I made about the character Scott having been watched Bobby Joe in the locker room – to see if Bobby Joe would check out his gonads – was a little bit closer than I normally would be comfortable with admitting, yet also gives me pause, as the specific memory came back about a straight brother once telling me "I don't care if you DO look! I know you well enough by now, and trust you to do the right thing by me. Look all you want!" We had been in a public restroom situation and I backed off standing alongside him at the urinals, and let someone else go ahead of me, rather than taking my proper turn and possibly "offending" my brother by taking a peek. I went back to my office building that afternoon and went into a stall in the men's room, and cried, as I felt such relief to know I wasn't – and am not – a "pariah" to some straight men, that they love me, and believe me to be a trustworthy person, that I won't try to make a move on them, sexually speaking. I say this as a report to the fact that this brother, some twenty or more years younger than I and in his early thirties at the time, was so used to being around gay men that it really didn't phase him one bit that another man was "curious" about the appearance of his appendage. Taking this into consideration along with the character of Scott – being based on a couple of different real-life situations for me – not being annoyed at Bobby Joe's curiosity, shows me a bit about my own situation I did not expect, and that is that some men younger than myself, especially so of my nephews' generation, are generally not offended by other men looking at them when they are naked, some even understanding that we are all curious about other men, at one time or another in their lives, and that it's a natural part of life, a part of a greater sense of being male, a camaraderie of sorts among other members of our gender, and a care for other men – especially so among many gay men I've ever met – that we see each other, as men, in a reality of being open and vulnerable with each other [a locker room being one such place]. Cyclical thinking as that may seem, I see a few men in my life who are – literally – among the many men who secretly have same-gender attractions, yet – due to other circumstances in their lives – are forced to keep it "on the D.L." [meaning "on the downlow]. Warm, caring smiles, certain amounts of gentle, affection that's nearly unnoticeable – such as a touch or a pat on the shoulder in greeting – a quick note to say "hi, how you doin'?" show me other men do care, yet are constrained by the general society's expectations of what many believe men ought to be, and that usually does NOT include nurturing, which is seen and believed by many to be a "feminine" quality, yes, even now, in the twenty-first century! Old habits and beliefs really DO die hard, I suspect... Thankfully, not every man keeps that tradition going, and – truth told – there is a lot more going on behind closed doors than just missionary sex between a man and a woman, and not all of us fit in that mold. Single men such as myself are suspect, still, yet even that old train of thought is finally dying off with my parents' generation. I know plenty of straight men who just haven't found "the one" yet, or just don't date anymore and have given up trying, and – sadly – their own beliefs sometimes hold them back, such as "I'm over thirty-five, who's gonna want me?" Meeting some men like that, I have mentioned that it's no great "sin" ["huh?!?"] being single, heck, even the Apostle Paul said it was better for some men to remain single! This man [your author] has told other, younger men that – despite appearances to the contrary – this is actually the best/most content time in my life: I've worked on a lot of issues that have held me back in the past, or "held me down" as some might say as I discover the real reason things have had on my life or how my experiences thus far have shaped my reasoning and attitudes towards life in general – and I am able to relax and enjoy life.