Date: Wed, 25 May 2022 08:08:59 -0700
From: H.T. Bruhaus <ht.bruhaus@yahoo.com>
Subject: Bridge

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This story is fiction and is not intended to imply anything about the true
sexuality of the celebrities mentioned or any personal knowledge about
their private lives.



Bridge


It's early Sunday morning, just before dawn. To the east, the horizon is
beginning to show the first traces of sunrise. I'm cruising down I-5,
heading north. Traffic is practically nonexistent, just a few semis on the
road. I slow down as I approach the Terwilliger curves, then accelerate as
I come out on the other side. The freeway is clear up ahead. I press down
on the gas pedal. My 1992 Buick Roadmaster picks up speed. My longtime car
might be old, but it is in decent condition and its 8-cylinder, 5.7-liter
engine is powerful. I easily hit 75mph.

The muffled sound of the tires on the pavement is soothing inside this big
old sedan. The car is heavy and the suspension is supple. It doesn't feel
like I'm moving at all, there is only the sensation of floating.

I fly by the high-rises of South Waterfront and pass beneath the aerial
tram to OHSU. The freeway starts to slant upwards as it approaches The
Marquam Bridge. There is a small train of semis slowly moving through the
outside lane. I pick up even more speed, leaving them behind as I gain
elevation.

The north and south bound lanes split and stack into two separate decks on
the bridge. I'm on the top deck. I have a clear view of Mt. Hood
silhouetted against the rising sun. Suddenly the Buick hits a slick spot. I
struggle to maintain control, but I'm going too fast. I hit the side
barrier at nearly a 90-degree angle and 90 mph. The Buick gets airborne. I
feel my body strain against the seat belt. I look through the windshield,
the familiar gray green color of the Willamette River is 150 feet directly
below me.

Time stops.

Oh shit. I'm going to die.

I'm surprisingly calm. I guess I'm going to find out what it's like to be
dead. I see my phone out of the corner of my eye. It's floating in
mid-air. The phone slowly rotates over itself. The Willamette River doesn't
seem to be any closer.

I'm 63 years old. Too young to die, but still, I had my shot at a life. I
guess I can make room for somebody else now, like I have a choice. My
generation fucked up this planet. The sooner we're gone, the better it will
be for the rest of the world anyway.

I think about my life. It was mediocre. My childhood was mediocre. My
college was mediocre. My grades were mediocre. Up until a moment ago, I had
a mediocre job with a mediocre retirement still 4 years away, at least.

I even had a mediocre relationship once. It lasted 7 months, but it
probably should not have gone past its original one-night stand, because
the initial lust quickly faded and there wasn't any real love between
us. As a result, the sex became infrequent and also, you guessed it,
mediocre.

And speaking of sex, my cock was mediocre too. It was not very big. I told
myself it was five and a half inches, but if I were being honest, it was
just barely over five inches. I often thought of my cock as being
inadequate and I tended to be insecure about its size. Maybe my insecurity
was why sex for me, in general, was mediocre. I mostly jacked-off to
porn. It was easier and a lot less stressful than trying to hook up with
some stranger.

Still, I don't feel like I have any regrets. I didn't suffer and I think I
was relatively happy, at least I was happy in a mediocre way.

I suddenly get a flashback.




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I'm 6 years old. My family is taking a Sunday drive in the country. I'm in
the back of our station wagon, staring out the side window. A boy about my
age comes into view. He is standing at the entrance to a long gravel
driveway. There are open fields all around us and an old farm house under a
colossal oak tree off in the distance.

The boy makes eye contact with me. He smiles and waves. I turn and look out
the rear window as we pass by.

He is so beautiful.

I wave back. We go around a corner and I never see him again.

I had completely forgotten about that moment. At the time, it seemed very
significant to me. I had kept thinking about that boy for weeks and even
months later. Actually, I thought about him off and on for many years.

He was my first love.

I wonder at what point I completely forgot about him.




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I become aware, again, of my impending death. The Willamette River is no
longer in view, instead I see the sky. It is dark blue and cloudless and
even though the sun has just risen, the moon is clearly visible through the
windshield. My phone, ever so slowly, bounces off the side of my face. I
can't feel it.

I realize now that I do have regrets. I regret being so fucking sexually
repressed for most of my life. I regret that I was afraid to admit I was
gay. I regret that I didn't lose my virginity until I was 29. I regret I
missed out on so many opportunities for sex because of my own timidity and
fear.

There also seems I have another, more important regret hovering just below
my awareness.

Now I flashback to when I was 13.




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It is midsummer. We had just moved. I am playing in the backyard of my new
friend, Marshal. We are the same age. We are using sticks as machine guns
and shooting each other from behind trees.

I run into the open. Marshal cuts me down with his "machine gun" and I
dramatically fall in the grass, arms and legs splayed out in a grisly death
pose. My eyes are closed. I hear Marshal walk up to me. I peek at him with
one eye. He lightly puts his foot on my chest in the form of a
conqueror. "Victory!" He moves his foot down to my crotch.

Through my cut-offs, I feel the sole of his tennis shoe rubbing against my
dick. I quickly jump up.

Marshal is grinning.

Then the sky flashes and we are blasted by deafening thunder. It starts to
hail. I run for shelter under a tree. Marshal stands in the middle of the
lawn, arms open. He starts dancing in the hail. "Come on Steve, it's fun."
I can barely hear him through the downpour. He beckons me with a motion of
his arm.

I run out next to him. The small hail pellets sting my head through my
unstylish crew cut. Marshal pulls off his tee-shirt. I sneak looks at his
chest while we dance and cavort in the hail. Marshal scoops up some
hailstones and forms a snowball. He tosses it at me and it breaks apart on
impact.

I scoop up some hailstones too. They are super cold. I make a snowball and
throw it straight in the air. It comes down and accidentally hits Marshal
on the shoulder. He pretends he is mad and grabs me in a headlock. In
defense, I go to my knees in the grass, bringing Marshal down with me. He
pushes me over and rolls on top of me. I roll on top of him. Our clothes
are getting soaked. Hail pellets stick to my tee-shirt. It feels like the
temperature has dropped twenty degrees.

Marshal jumps up and takes shelter under a patio umbrella. I quickly follow
him. His arms and chest are covered in goose bumps. My tee-shirt is soaked
through and sticking to my skin.

We are both shivering. The hail turns to rain.

Marshal says, "We should go inside and take a bath to warm up."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. I stall for time. "What?"

"I'm serious, we could freeze to death."

I would love nothing more than to see Marshal naked, but his mom is at
home, I'm sure she would think it's weird two teenage boys are taking a
bath together. "No, I can't."

 "Come on, Steve."

I am super tempted, but I already have a hard-on just thinking about being
naked with Marshal. I'm sure he would be disgusted with me if he saw it. "I
have to go home."

"Please."

I'm surprised at Marshal's desperation. I flirt with the idea that Marshal
wants to fool around. Is it possible? No way. He just wants to warm
up. That's all. Still, I could take a bath with him if I could just keep
control of my dick. I look at Marshal's wet bare chest. I realize there is
no way I won't get hard. If he saw my boner, he would tell everybody I'm a
homo. I can't take that risk. "I have to go now."




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I'm back in my Buick again, still frozen in time and falling to my
death. The car has pitched to its side and the downtown Portland skyline is
in view. I have no idea where my phone is.

Wait, although I'm going to be dead in 5 more seconds, it seems I have a
lifetime to go.

I still feel there is a regret I am missing.

I return to my flashback, but something has changed.




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Marshal says, "We should go inside and take a bath to warm up."

"Um, okay, but..."

"What?"

 "Won't your mom think it's weird that two 13-year-old boys are taking a
bath together?"

"Nah, she's watching T.V. and besides, she'll have had three beers by now."

"Okay." I follow Marshal through the kitchen door. We approach the living
room. Marshal signals for me to be quiet. I look inside as we pass,
Marshal's mom is in a recliner in front of the T.V. There is an Alka
Seltzer commercial on. She has a cigarette in one hand and a beer in her
other hand.

We go upstairs and into the bathroom. Marshal closes the door and locks
it. He takes off his shoes and socks. He turns on the tub and puts his hand
under the running water.

I also take off my shoes and socks. Then I remove my tee-shirt. I just
stand there in my cutoffs, barefoot and shirtless. I still have a hard-on.

The water must have warmed up to Marshal's satisfaction, because he flips
the lever for the stopper and pours in a large amount of Mr. Bubble. Then
he quickly strips off his shorts and underpants, exposing his naked butt. I
stare at it as he steps into the tub, then turns around to sit.

I want to check out his dick, but his eyes are on me now and I don't want
him to see me looking at it. He sits down, but before his dick gets
undercover in the soap suds, I am able to give it a quick glance.

He is hard too!

Marshal says, "Ah, it feels good to be warm again. Come on in." He is
grinning.

Hopefully he will ignore my boner, since he also has one. I unbutton my fly
and put my thumbs under the waistbands of both my underpants and cutoffs. I
quickly pull them down to my ankles. My boner is sticking straight out and
is in full view.

Marshal is looking right at it.

I hurry up, stepping onto my shorts with my feet and stripping them off
completely. Then I jump into the tub, accidentally splashing Marshal, but
at least my boner is now hidden by the bubbles, just like Marshal's. "Yeah,
it does feel good."

Marshal looks down at the bubbles covering my crotch, then looks me
directly in the eyes. He laughs, "I saw your boner."

"So, I saw yours too."

"I guess we're both horny."

"I guess."

"Watch this." Marshal leans back on his hands and pushes his hips
up. Slowly the bubbles rise with his stomach. I see parts of his hard dick
beneath the suds. I resist the urge to wipe them off.

Then Marshal uses one hand to smear away the bubbles.

His boner is right there in front of me. I giggle a little bit to hide my
nervousness. But shoot, I can't believe what I'm seeing.

Marshal sits back down. His dick disappears. "Can I see yours?"

"I guess, if you want." I'd been sitting with my legs crossed under me. I
straighten them out. They end up on both sides of Marshal. My knees are
bent and just slightly showing above the bubbles. My feet are touching
Marshal's thighs near his butt. I lean back on one hand and hold my dick
with my other hand so it's pointing straight up. I slowly raise my hips. My
hard dick rises out of the bubbles.

Marshal also giggles as he stares at my boner.

I lower myself back into the suds.

Marshal says, "Let's beat-off."

I hesitate, "Um, are you sure?"

"Heck yeah! Don't you want to?"

Of course, I want to jack-off with Marshal, but I'm scared this is some
kind of trick. "You start first, okay?"

"Sure." Marshal gets on his knees in the tub. The suds only come up to his
thighs. He grabs his dick with his right hand and slowly moves it up and
down the shaft. "Dang, that feels good." He smiles. "Now you do it."

"Okay." I move my legs and get up on my knees the same as Marshal, facing
him. My dick is super hard.

Marshal stares at it while slowly stroking his cock.

I grab my dick with my thumb and first two fingers and move them up and
down the shaft slowly. "Oh gosh, that feels so good."

Marshal smiles. "Yeah."

I lock my eyes to Marshal's, then look down at his cock. I've never seen
another boy's hard dick before and I've especially never seen another boy
jerking his dick. I love watching him, but I can't believe how big it looks
compared to mine. It's at least an inch longer and a lot thicker. I'm
jealous. I always kind of suspected my dick was small, but now I have some
evidence that it's true.

At least my cock is a lot harrier than his. Which is somewhat comforting.

My knees are beginning to hurt from being on the hard surface of the tub,
so I get up and sit on the edge with my feet in the water.

Marshal does the same and sits next to me. His elbow is touching my
side. It lightly brushes against me as he strokes his cock.

We continue jerking side by side. Marshal speeds up his stroke and I do the
same. Then he abruptly stops. He grabs a bar of soap and gets it wet.

I watch as he rubs his hands on it.

He looks at me, "Have you ever beat-off using soap?"

"No."

"Watch this." He puts the soap back and wraps up his dick with his now
slippery hand. He squeezes it down the shaft, then squeezes it back up to
the head. "Oh dang!" He continues to slide his fist up and down his
cock. He moans. "You've got to try this on your dink." He looks at my cock.

"Okay." I pick up the soap and rub it on my hands, I grab my cock and
squeeze it hard, then I slide my fist up the shaft. My entire body jerks as
my hand slides over the sensitive head. I move my hand down then back up. I
moan. "That feels really good."

Marshal is starting to breathe hard. "Yeah." He slides his fist
faster. "I'm going to shoot."

I stop stroking and watch. I want to see him cum.

Marshal leans back slightly and spreads his legs wide open. His knee is
pushed up hard against my leg. He strokes faster. He quietly grunts every
time his hand passes over his cock-head. He moans. He stops breathing. He
stops stroking and just holds onto his cock. Then he grunts. Cum starts
dribbling out of his dick and onto his pubes. He resumes stroking his
dick. More cum dribbles out, then eventually stops.

Marshal looks right at me. He smiles. "Dang, that felt so good. Why'd you
stop?"

"I wanted to see you cum."

"Neat. Now it's your turn."

I need to cum really bad. I get more soap on my hand. I spread my legs wide
open, then I start sliding my slick fist up and down my cock. My leg is
pushed up against Marshal. He puts his hand on my thigh and gently rubs it
across my skin. It feels good. I move my fist faster and squeeze my cock
harder. My legs start to tremble. "I'm going to cum!"

Marshal stops rubbing my leg, but leaves his hand on my thigh. He just
stares at my dick.

Cum starts shooting out of my cock in short, rapid spurts, like a machine
gun. It seems to go on forever and sprays across my entire chest. I moan
loudly. I finally stop shooting. "Wow, that felt good." I am covered in
cum.

Marshal takes his hand from my leg. He stands up in the tub and faces
me. "Eww, you got some on me."

I look at his softening dick in front of my face, then I look at his
body. His arm and one side of his chest is splattered with small droplets
of my cum. I'm afraid Marshal is going to freak out. "Gosh Marshal, I'm
really sorry."

"It's cool. I wish I could shoot like that."




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I'm back in my Buick and still falling to my death. My phone is right next
to my ear. It's almost like I'm trying to make a call. I now have a
hard-on. I guess there are worse ways to die.

I try to focus on that missing regret. It seems really important.

Then I get another flashback.




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I'm 17 years old and in high school at band practice. My school's band is
small and not very good. I was the only saxophone player until we got a new
kid this year. He is a lot better than me and he became first chair. I
really don't mind. I'm a mediocre saxophone player anyway.

His name is Brian. He is 16. He is sweet and funny and super-cute. He is
nice to me. He is also a good dresser. He regularly wears a colored
tee-shirt beneath his shirts. The top part of his tee-shirt is visible at
the collar and it is always color coordinated with his shirts.

He must have a half dozen-colored tees. This impresses me.

After band class Brian says, "Steve, we really need to practice some more."

"I guess so."

"Can you come over to my house today?"

"If you want."

"Cool. Meet me in the parking lot after school."

"Okay." I usually use the time after school to jack-off. Our small
apartment is empty for a short while and I can have a little bit of
privacy. If I didn't think Brian was such a fox, I probably wouldn't bother
to practice with him.

I meet Brian at the end of the school day. He is waiting for me next to his
car. He has a brand-new Ford Mustang II.

"Nice car."

Brian smiles. "Thanks." He opens the hatchback and I put my sax inside.

As we are driving to his house, we pass by my apartment complex. "That's
where I live."

"Cool."

Brian turns at the next street. Here, the neighborhood gets nice and the
car starts winding uphill. He makes a few more turns, then parks in front
of a big split-level home. It reminds me of the Brady Bunch house.

We go up to his room and get out our saxes. Brian starts looking for
something. "Darn I forgot the sheet music. Did you bring yours?"

"Yeah." I hold up my music.

"We'll practice your section."

"Okay."

Brian sets out two chairs and places the music on a stand. We sit next to
each other, holding our saxophones.

"I'll start, then you join in."

We practice for about forty-five minutes. Brian is a patient teacher and I
feel I learned my part pretty well.

We put away our saxes. Brian sits on his bed and I sit in one of the chairs
facing him.

Brian says, "You really sounded good."

"Thanks, you're a good teacher."

"We should do this more often. Can you come over after school tomorrow?"

"Um, I think so."

Brian gets a big smile. "Far out. What do you want to do now?"

Something in the way Brian said that, made me think he wants to fool
around. It's probably because I am super horny. My eyes involuntarily look
at the fly to his jeans.

He casually spreads open his legs.

My dick gets hard in my Levis. Even though my erection isn't big enough to
make much of a bump in the thick fabric of my jeans, I'm still afraid Brian
will notice. "I have to go."

Brian stops smiling. "So soon?"

"Yeah."

"You can stay for dinner?"

"I can't."

"Bummer. I'll give you a ride."




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I'm back in my Buick and still falling to my death. Now my phone is slowly
swirling right in front of my face. Just beyond it, I see Canadian Geese
paddling in the river directly in the path of my plunging vehicle. I hope
they get out of the way. I'd hate to be responsible for hurting them.

I never went to Brian's house again. I was too afraid, but maybe I can
change that now. It kind of seems like I have been given a chance to
correct some of the mistakes I made in my life, due to my inhibited nature.


I still feel the missing regret, but I push it away as I return to my most
recent flashback.




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Brian gets a big smile. "Far out. What do you want to do now?"


Something in the way Brian said that, made me think he wants to fool
around. It's probably because I am super horny. My eyes involuntarily look
at the fly to his jeans.

He casually spreads open his legs.

My dick gets hard in my Levis. I spread open my legs too.

He looks right at my crotch. Then looks me in the eyes. He is grinning.

I hesitate a moment. "Um, maybe we could jack-off?"

Brian rubs himself. "Good idea. I'm super horny."

I smile. "Me too." I rest my hand on my crotch.

Brian doesn't waste any time. He quickly stands and kicks off his
shoes. Then pulls down his jeans along with his briefs.

I watch as his hard dick pops into view. I blatantly look at it. I cannot
believe this is happening. Unfortunately, his dick is huge, it's a lot
bigger than mine. It makes me embarrassed about the size of my cock.

Brian sits his naked butt back onto the bed, then pulls his jeans and
briefs all the way off, leaving his feet covered in white crew socks. He
looks at me as he starts stroking his giant dick.

I unbutton my jeans. I lift my butt off of the chair and pull them down to
my thighs, but I leave on my underpants. I set my butt back down and
continue to slide the jeans to my ankles, where they get stopped by my
tennis shoes. My boner is straining against the fabric of my briefs. I use
my index finger and flick the head of my dick through the fabric. "Mmm."

Brian is watching me closely.

I put my hand inside my underpants and grab my cock. I start stroking it
while watching Brian stroke his big dick. I am suddenly reluctant to let
Brian see how small I am. I decide that I'll just cum into my briefs. It
will be gross and messy, but preferable to being ridiculed.

Brian says, "We should get totally naked. It's more fun that way, don't you
think?"

I don't say anything.

Brian unbuttons his shirt. He takes it off. He is now just wearing an
orange tee-shirt and white crew socks. I casually notice the stripe around
the top of his socks matches the color of his tee. Then Brian takes off the
tee-shirt. He is completely naked except for his socks. He goes back to
stroking his dick. "Your turn."

I resolve to let Brian see my cock. It's only fair and I really want to
show it to him, no matter the consequences. I unbutton the top two buttons
of my shirt and pull it over my head. I drop it on the floor. I'm not
wearing a tee shirt. I reach down and pull off my tennis shoes. Then I lift
my feet and step out of my jeans.

I still have my underpants on along with a pair of black socks. I rub my
dick through my briefs. Then I strip off my socks. I hold one to my nose
without even realizing I'm doing it and inhale with my eyes closed. The
sock is really stinky. I open my eyes and see Brian looking at me. I'm
embarrassed and turn bright red.

Brian leans forward and gently takes the sock out of my hand. He sits back
and holds my sock to his nose while continuing stroking his dick. "Gross
man. That really smells." He sets my sock on the mattress next to him. Then
he strips off his socks. He gives me one. "Here, smell mine." He smiles.

I take his sock and tentatively hold it to my nose. I look Brian in the
eyes as I inhale his stinky sock. "Geeze Brian, your sock stinks more than
mine."

"No, it doesn't. Now take off your underpants."

It sounds more like a command than a request. I drop Brian's sock onto the
floor, then stand. I hesitate a moment before I pull my briefs down. They
fall around my ankles. My hard dick is now exposed. I instinctively cover
it with my hand as I use my feet to strip my briefs all the way off. I am
now standing completely naked in front of Brian; except I am covering my
boner with my hand.

Brian reaches out and grabs my wrist. "No need to be shy." He gently pries
my hand away from my cock. He stares at it. "Far out."

I am encouraged by Brian's comment. He obviously likes my dick and he
doesn't seem to care about my size. I slowly stroke it. I force myself to
let Brian look at it.

Brian grabs my sock that is next to him on the bed. He puts it over his
cock then picks up his sock I dropped on the floor. He stands and gives it
to me. "Here, put this on."

I put Brian's sock on over my cock and go back to jacking. I get whiffs of
his smelly sock as it rubs against my cock. This gets me even more excited.

Brian matter-of-factly says, "I'm going to cum in your sock."

I'm surprised at how unapologetic he is about jizzing inside my sock. I'm
also surprised at how hot and nasty that sounds to me. It really turns me
on. "Okay."

"You have to cum in my sock too."

"If you want." I start jacking faster. The rough fabric of his gross sock
feels good against my naked dick. I also really like the idea that I'm
required to cum inside it.

Brian steps up close to me. I feel his hot breath on my face. He grabs my
arm that's stroking my dick.

I have to stop.

He takes me by the wrist and guides my hand to his dick. At the same time,
he grabs my cock with his other hand and starts stroking me. He whispers,
"Make me cum."

Brian's stroking of my cock through his sock feels really, really good. I
stroke him back. I love how his dick feels in my hand through my sock. I
kind of wish I was touching his dick without the sock intervening, but I
suspect the cotton barrier is the thing that is allowing this to happen in
the first place. I also suspect that this is the first phase of what will
be a number of escalating sexual encounters between us in the next few
weeks.

Brian speeds up his stroking of me and I reciprocate. I put my free hand on
his waist and he puts his free hand on my shoulder. We are both looking
down at our cocks. I start moving my hips in time with his strokes. Brian
does the same. I realize we are fucking each other's hands.

Then Brian says, "I'm getting close. Cum with me, Steve."

"I'm close too."

Brian's voice is excited. It gets higher in pitch. He strokes me
faster. "I'm going to cum. Cum with me now."

"Yeah!" I speed up my stroking of Brian's dick.

"Ahhhh! I'm cumming! Come with me!"

Brian convulses. He squeezes my shoulder. His stroking of my dick becomes
erratic, then he suddenly stops stroking me and hunches over as he shoots
his load inside my dirty sock. "Yes! Oh yes! Oh, fucking yes!"

I keep jacking his cock as he is cumming. I watch the toe of my black sock
get dark with his wet jizz, until it starts leaking out through the weave
of the fabric, plopping onto the carpet.

I let go of Brian's cock. "I'm really close, keep jacking me."

Brian resumes stroking me.

A moment later, I start shooting into his sock. "I'm cumming, Brian."

"Yeah, shoot it man. Shoot that load!"

"Ahhrgg!" I hunch over and my body convulses as I shoot my load of jizz
into his sock.

Brian squeezes my dick until the last of my cum stops spurting. The toe of
his white sock is loaded with my sperm and the overflow drips onto the
carpet, mixing with his.




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I'm back in my car again, frozen in time. I realize these flashbacks aren't
just a fantasy of my brain at the final moment before I die. They are a
real alternative direction my life could have taken if I actually had the
balls to choose them. God damnit. Why was I such a fucking coward all of my
life?

I look down through the windshield. The river is very close. The geese are
beginning to take flight. My phone is face up on the dash. It's like I had
just set it there.

I feel very close to figuring out that lost regret.

I have another flashback. I sense this is my last one before I'm really and
truly dead.




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It's late summer. I'm a freshman at Portland Community College and still
living at home. I dropped out of too many classes during the regular school
year, so I have to take classes during the summer term. I have a part-time
day job. Most of my classes are in the evening.

It's a warm Friday night around 9:00PM. My weight training class has just
ended. I head to the locker room. My tee shirt has a strip of sweat down
the back that continues into the butt crack of my gym shorts. The sweat
from my arm pits has also soaked through my shirt and I reek of B.O.

I need a shower bad.

I enter the locker room and turn into my aisle. I stop dead in my
tracks. There is this beautiful naked guy drying himself off right next to
my locker.

I think he notices me out of the corner of his eye, but he pretty much just
ignores me.

I slowly head to my locker while at the same time I discretely check him
out. He has a very dark tan. He is tall and lean with a naturally muscular
body. He has a flat stomach that really shows off his abs and he has this
amazing pelvic vee that drives me crazy.

He turns and puts his foot on the bench. He starts drying his toes. His
bare butt is less than a yard from my cock and it's pointing right at
it. His ass is full and round and pure white. There is a distinctive tan
line at his waist and a less distinctive tan line on his lower thighs. It
seems he has spent some time in the sun wearing board shorts. I stare at
that beautiful ass. I form an image in my head of jumping on him right here
in this locker room and sticking my dick into it.

I think he sensed me leering at him from behind, because he turns his head
and catches me looking at him.

Before I am able to look away, he gives me a friendly smile.

I'm embarrassed at my unbridled lust and at the fact that I got caught
checking him out. I neglect to smile back.

He politely steps aside to give me access to my locker. Then he starts
drying his light brown, shoulder length hair.

While his face is covered by the towel, I look directly at his cock. It is
hefty, but not too big. His ball sack is stretched out and hanging low and
holding a large pair of balls. His pubes are dark brown and bushy at the
base of his cock, then form a narrow line that runs up to his navel. The
movement of his arms causes his cock and balls to jiggle. I burn the image
into my brain. I'll be jacking-off to it soon.

A moment later, he peeks from behind his towel and I get caught a second
time checking him out.

I need to get out of there fast, so I rapidly strip off my gym
clothes. Unfortunately, I had started to get hard while I was looking at
him and now my dick is partially sticking out and semierect.

Too late. He sees it before I can cover the little guy with a
towel. Nothing I can do about it now. I quickly brush past him and jet down
the aisle towards the showers.

I slow up as soon as I'm out of his sight. My cock needs a few moments to
get soft before I can take a naked shower.

I look in the shower room. There are not many people here this late on a
Friday night. I find a corner away from the other guys and just soak for a
very long time.

When I feel like I've given that tanned guy enough time to get changed and
leave, I go back to my locker. I'm relieved he has gone, but I'm also a
little bit disappointed.

I slowly dry my chest and back. The locker room is quiet. I move the towel
down and dry my cock. It feels good. I instantly get hard. I look over my
shoulder. I seem to be alone. Maybe I can cum really quickly before I get
dressed.

I often jack-off after gym class, seeing all those naked guys in the locker
room really makes me horny, but I normally do it in a stall in the men's
room of the science building where there isn't much activity. The idea of
doing it here, in the open, is very exciting for me.

I drop the towel onto the floor. My hard dick is in full view. I think
about that guy's cock and balls flopping around. I spit into my fist and
rapidly slide it over my cock. I'm going to have to be fast. I've never
done anything like this before and I'm terrified I'll get caught.

Then I hear a bunch of guys enter the locker room. They are loud and
rowdy. I am forced to stop jacking. I have to get dressed quickly before
anybody sees me. I hurry and put my clothes on over my hard and unsatisfied
cock, then sling my gym bag over my shoulder and leave.

I check my Timex. I only have a few minutes to catch my bus. If I miss it,
I'll have to wait an hour for the next one. I exit the building and enter a
courtyard. It is sporadically lit by outdoor lights. The night is warm and
humid. Then I see that guy sitting on a bench under a light and eating an
apple.

Shit!

He sees me and smiles. "Hey, it's you again."

I rush past him. I mumble, "Hi."

He stands and tosses the apple core into the flowerbed. "Wait up." He
overtakes me and keeps pace as I hurry to the bus stop.

"Sorry, I have to catch a bus."

We get to the bus stop in front of the admin building at the exact moment
the driver gets off and closes the door. The bus driver looks at me. "I'll
be right back." Then heads to the restroom.

The locker room guy is now standing in front of me in his street
clothes. He is wearing a striped tank top and a pair of faded Levi's with
holes in the knees. He's also wearing an old pair of Chucks.

I am embarrassed and mortified this guy caught me checking him out in the
locker room. I'd like to just forget it ever happened, but damn, he looks
really sexy at the moment.

As I am staring at him, he holds out his hand. "My name is Dave Bowman."

I don't want to give him my last name, but it just automatically comes
out. "I'm Steven Fremont." I reluctantly go to shake his hand.

He grabs my hand at the thumb, forcing me to grab his hand the same way. We
shake hands like hippies. It seems weird to me.

Dave continues. "I'm just passing through. Do you know where there's a
fast-food restaurant nearby?" He smiles.

So, he's not a student. He was illegally using the school's
showers. "There's a McDonalds just down the street, not too far from here."

"Far out. Can you show me? I'll buy you dinner and give you a ride home if
you want."

The bus driver returns and gets back on the bus.

"I can't. I need to go now." I get on the bus and drop 40 cents into the
box. I sit on the side opposite of Dave. I am feeling depressed. The bus
starts up and slowly pulls away.

I look at Dave through the windows on the other side of the bus. He waves.

I don't return his wave, instead I turn my head and look out my window.




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I'm back in the Buick and just a heart-beat away from my inevitable death.

That last flashback was cruel. It brought back a moment in my life that I
always regretted and tried to forget. I came to believe it was the worst
mistake I had ever made. Now I know what regret I was unable to recall, I
regret that I didn't have someone who loved me as much as I loved them,
just once in my mediocre life.

I'm shocked by this revelation. All of my life, I rejected popular
culture's message that a person could not be complete unless they had a
"soulmate", and even now, on the threshold of death, I still reject that
message, but wanting to have the experience of loving someone and being
loved by someone, just for a short time, seems reasonable.

I shut my eyes and quickly return to my do-over. I desperately need to make
this right.




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Dave continues. "I'm just passing through. Do you know where there's a
fast-food restaurant nearby?" He smiles.

So, he's not a student. I tease him a little bit. "Did you just steal a
shower from my school?"

Dave laughs. "Oh shit. I guess I'm busted."

"You're in big trouble now." I look directly at Dave.

He is smiling. "Trust me Steve, you wouldn't want to be anywhere near me
before I showered. I've been on the road for a while. I was really stinking
up my van. I smelled almost as bad as you."

"Man, I guess you really did need a shower."

"So did you." Dave touches my arm just beneath the shoulder.

I feel a lightning bolt course through my body.

He removes his hand. "You smell a lot better now." He smiles.

I smile back. Our eyes lock. I look away. "Thanks, um there's a McDonalds
just down the street, not too far from here."

"Far out. Can you show me? I'll buy you dinner and give you a ride home if
you want."

The bus driver returns and gets onto the bus. He looks at me. "Coming?"

I ignore him and face Dave. "Sounds good."

The bus starts up and pulls away.

"Cool. Let's go."

I walk with Dave towards one of the many parking lots at my school. We head
across campus, as far away from the buildings of P.C.C. as we can get.

We enter a big sprawling lot with a small grove of Douglas Fir trees on its
far border. Just beyond the trees is a quiet residential
neighborhood. There are only a few cars scattered around the lot. There is
just one light on a tall pole at the very center, but most of the lot is in
darkness. Dave points to a vehicle parked all by itself under the
trees. "There it is, my home."

I see a dark form. I squint. "Is that a Westfalia?"

"It sure is."

"I love those."

"Thanks."

As we approach Dave's van, a refreshing breeze blows over us. "That feels
nice."

"Yeah." We walk around the van to the side facing the fir trees. Dave
slides open the side door. "After you."

I climb in. The roof has been extended open and I can stand all the way up
inside.

Dave follows me and turns on the dome light. "Sit."

There is a bed at the back of the van. It has a fitted sheet on the
mattress and a loose sheet wadded up in a pile on top. The sheets look a
bit grungy, but it's the only place I can sit. I drop my gym bag onto the
floor and take a seat on Dave's bed.

Dave leaves the side door open. I can smell the trees. They are nearly
inside the van. All of the windows are open too. The breeze has picked up
and is fluttering the curtains. The van begins to cool down a little bit.

I get a whiff of Dave's sheets. They have a musky aroma that is kind of
gross, but also very intimate. My cock becomes hard.

Dave looks at me. He is holding a Coleman lantern. "I can't leave the dome
light on for too long because it drains the battery." He sets the lantern
on the counter of a very small kitchenette and begins pumping the fuel
tank.

I wonder why we aren't driving to McDonalds right away, but I'm in no hurry
to move.

I hear the hiss of the lantern and I am momentarily blinded from the harsh
direct light. Dave adjusts the flame down and puts a folded piece of
cardboard in front of it. The light gets diverted upwards, where it bounces
off the ceiling and bathes everything in a soft warm glow.

"Ah, much better." He switches off the dome light and sits next to me on
the bed.

We are silent for a moment. Then I say, "Why have you been on the road for
a while?"

"It's a long story."

"Tell me."

"Last year, after I graduated high school, my stepdad kicked me out of the
house. I got a job at a surf shop and rented a shitty studio apartment with
a coworker. I was barely getting by, living from paycheck to paycheck.

"That sucks. Where was this?" I look directly into Dave's eyes.

Dave looks back. "San Diego."

I hold Dave's gaze much longer than normal for me, but eventually I look
away. "San Diego? Wow."

"Yeah, anyway long story short, my mom's aunt died and left me almost four
thousand dollars, basically saving me from my shitty existence."

"Four thousand? You're practically a millionaire."

Dave laughs. "No shit. So I quit my job and bought this V.W. and now I'm
travelling the states and just going wherever."

The practical side of me is thinking Dave should be saving his windfall,
but I can't help feeling a little jealous of the adventure he is
having. "That is so cool."

"Thanks."

I look directly at Dave again. He is smiling sweetly. His eyes are dark
blue and so fucking beautiful. I have never kissed anyone before, but I
cannot prevent myself from kissing Dave.

I keep my eyes locked to his as I lean forward.

Dave leans into me. He gently sets his hand on my thigh.

We kiss.

I cannot believe how beautiful it feels. I pull back and look at his
lips. I am hyperaware of my cock throbbing inside my Levi's. I look into
Dave's eyes and push him down onto the bed as I kiss him again.

He moans.

We move in unison, arranging ourselves until we are both lying on his bed
with me on top.

Dave kicks off his shoes. I do the same. They make a clunking sound as they
fall onto the floor of his van.

I put my hands on the side of his face and kiss Dave some more. He wraps
his arms around my body. I feel his hard cock pressing against my hard cock
through our jeans.

I don't know what I am doing, but somehow, I know Dave wants me to fuck
him. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind. I am surprised I know this. I
am a virgin. I do not have any experience with guys. It is not necessary
for me to fuck Dave. I would be happy if we just exchanged hand-jobs, but I
am going to fuck him. I have no choice.

I open my mouth as I am kissing him and push my tongue inside.

Dave moans as our tongues rub together.

Then I stop and roll off of him. We are both smiling. I put my hand on his
chest. "Take off your clothes."

Dave stands as I sit up on the bed. He pulls his tank top over his head and
drops it onto the floor. He unbuttons his jeans and takes them off. His
hard cock sticks out through the fly of his boxers.

I stare at it. I rub my dick through my jeans.

Dave turns around and pulls his boxers down.

I watch as his beautiful, stark white ass, is revealed to me. "Oh my god."

Dave looks over his shoulder. He is grinning. Then he strips off his socks.

I look at his balls dangling between his legs. "Dave, you are so fucking
beautiful."

He turns around, facing me. "Let me undress you."

I stand in front of Dave and look down at his hard cock. I slowly stroke
him as he unbuttons my shirt. I love the feel of his dick in my hand. I
love its weight and its thickness and how easily the skin slides up and
down the shaft, and I especially love the heat of it, like a radiator. It
practically scorches my hand.

Dave finishes unbuttoning my shirt. He slides it off of my shoulders. I
have to let go of his cock briefly to let the sleeve down. My shirt falls
onto the floor and I have his cock in my hand once again. Then he puts his
hand into my jeans and boxers and rubs my cock.

"Mmmm. That feels good."

Dave takes his hand out and unbuttons my jeans. I am forced to let go of
his cock as he gets on his knees and slides my jeans and boxers down to my
ankles. I lift my legs and step out of them, while at the same time, Dave
strips off my socks.

He stays on his knees and grabs my cock. He looks up at me while he slowly
strokes it. He smiles.

I smile back. I put my hands in his hair as Dave opens his mouth and
inserts my cock into it, never breaking eye contact with me.

I moan uncontrollably. The heat of his mouth on my cock is incredible. I
push his head down my shaft.

Dave breaks eye contact and concentrates on sucking my dick.

I close my eyes. It feels amazing.

Dave flicks my balls with his fingers as he is sucking me.

I open my eyes. It feels too good. "I'm going to cum."

Dave suddenly stops sucking. He just holds my dick so the head is resting
on the tip of his tongue.

The cum builds up inside me. I hunch over. I stay completely still.

Dave, ever so slightly, moves his hand back and forth over my shaft.

"Fuck!" I start shooting my load onto his tongue.

He stops stroking my dick and squeezes the shaft.

Some of my cum rolls off of his tongue and onto the floor. I stop
shooting. Dave puts my cock inside his mouth and swallows the rest of my
cum. When he is finished, he stands and we kiss.

We sit on the bed. I casually grab his hard cock. "Oh my god Dave, that
felt so good. Thanks."

Dave smiles and raises his eyebrows up and down.

I laugh. "Lie on the bed."

I let go of Dave's cock as he gets all the way on the bed. Then I sit on
his legs and straddle them. I grab his cock again. I look at his face as I
move my mouth towards his dick. I am going to suck him.

I still intend to fuck Dave, but my cock needs some time to recuperate from
just having shot a load. It won't take very long, though. I am too excited
about his beautiful naked body and his incredible hard cock and about
getting to put my virgin cock inside his sweet, hot, asshole.

Dave grabs my head and pulls me towards his dick.

I open my mouth and wrap my lips around the head. I can taste his precum. I
move my mouth down the shaft until I cannot get anymore of his cock
inside. I have never sucked a dick before. I am worried I'll do it wrong.

Dave moans. He takes his hands off of my head and starts thrusting slowly
into my mouth. "Oh my god, Steve, that feels so fucking good."

I am encouraged by his praise. I start playing with his balls as I suck his
cock. I look up at him.

His eyes are closed. His hands are behind his head and he is smiling
faintly. He opens his eyes and looks at me. He whispers, "Fuck yeah."

I don't say anything, I continue to suck his dick while looking at his
beautiful smiling face.

Then all of a sudden, Dave takes his cock out and aims it towards his
chest. He holds it like that for a brief moment. He grunts and convulses
lightly, cum starts dribbling out of his cock and onto his stomach. Dave
grunts and convulses again and a spurt of cum shoots across his chest. He
grunts one last time and shoots a less powerful spurt. Then he stops
cumming altogether.

He looks at me and smiles. "Fuck, that came on really fast. It surprised
me."

"Me too."

Dave sits up and kisses me softly on the lips. "You really turn me on,
Steve."

"You really turn me on too, Dave." Then I push him down on the bed and lick
his cum off of his body. My dick has now fully recovered form cumming. It
is rock solid hard and throbbing once again.

I get off of Dave and lie next to him. I hear the wind rustle the trees
outside. The curtains in the van flutter. The cool air moves across our
naked bodies and we both get goose bumps.

I really love the warmth of Dave's body next to my body. I move my hand
down his chest until it gets to his cock and balls. His dick is soft from
just cumming. I touch and fondle Dave. I play with his cock. I feel his
balls. I make him get hard again. I cannot believe I am doing this right
now.

At the same time, Dave plays with my erection.

He is making me very horny. I turn towards Dave and lift my leg over his
legs. He lets go of my cock as I push it against the side of his ass. I
hump my dick against him. I moan.

Dave turns on his side, away from me and pushes his ass against my cock.

I grab my cock and point it at his hole. I thrust into the fold of his ass
cheeks. I reach around his body and hold onto his dick.

Dave moans loudly.

The warmth of his ass feels amazing on my cock. I thrust harder. The head
of my dick knocks against his anus. I keep thrusting. My cockhead
penetrates Dave's hole just a little bit. It feels so fucking good.

Dave says, "Wait." He reaches over to the kitchenette while still lying on
the bed and opens a cabinet door. He pulls out a small tub of Crisco and
hands it to me. "Use this."

The Crisco doesn't have a lid. I look into the tub. About two thirds of it
is gone and there are finger tracks running across what is left.

Dave bends at the waist and uses one hand to pull apart his ass.

I move down the bed so I can get a better look at it. "Oh my god,
Dave. Your hole is so fucking beautiful."

"You like that?"

"Yeah. It's like I'm looking at the face of God."

Dave laughs. I'm not sure why. I was being serious.

I scoop out some Crisco with three fingers and run them across his hole.

Dave moans and lets go of his ass cheek. He arches his head back.

I grab his cheek and pull it open. I can see his hole again. I take my
index finger and slowly slide it inside him.

Dave moans and my cock throbs.

I pull my finger out of his hole. I put Crisco on my cock. I push it
between his cheeks.

"Wait." Dave gets up on his hands and knees. I get on my knees behind
him. He grabs his ass with one hand, exposing his hole for me again. He
arches his back and sticks his ass out. "Fuck me, Steve."

This moment is something I have been dreaming about for years. I finally
get to lose my virginity. I put my finger inside Dave again. I move it back
and forth. Then I grab my cock at the base. I watch myself push the head
against his hole.

Dave moans as my cock slowly penetrates him.

I whisper, "Oh my god." I push my dick all the way inside of Dave. I
groan. Then I slowly pull my cock back. I let it come out completely. I
look at his hole. I don't know why; all I know is I had to see it again.

"Come on, Steve." Dave seems to be impatient.

I put my dick back inside him. I slowly push it inwards. I concentrate on
the feeling. I moan.

Dave moans too. He whispers, "Fuck yeah."

I can barely hear him. I slowly pull my cock back until the head comes all
the way out. Then I change direction. My cockhead goes back inside. My dick
slides forward. The inside of Dave's ass moves across the outside of my
cock. "Oh my god, Dave." I pull back. The head comes out again. I like the
feeling. I fuck Dave with just my cockhead. I push in until just the head
is covered, then pull it all the way out, then do it again. His hole
stretches around the head of my cock. It feels so fucking good.

"Yeah, just like that." Dave seems to like it too.

I continue fucking him with my dickhead for a little while longer, but then
I start going deeper.

At this point, Dave takes over. He pushes his ass back against my cock.

I have no choice but to go even deeper into him and to fuck him even
faster. It feels incredible.

Dave starts to groan every time my cock goes into
him. "Uhhh. Uhhh. Uhhh..." He gets louder as we fuck faster. "UHH UHH
UHH..."

The van is rocking. The suspension is squeaking.

Dave starts stroking his cock. "UUHHHUUHHHUUHHH..."

I watch my dick fuck Dave's ass. His excitement is exciting me. "I'm
getting close." I fuck him harder.

"Yeah, cum inside me."

"I'm going to cum!"

"Me too!" Dave begins to whimper. "EeemmEeemmMuueeem."

I am getting desperate to cum. I moan loudly. "MmmmmMMMMM." My cock
tingles. My balls light up.

Then our orgasms ignite. Both Dave and I scream as we cum
together. "AAAAHHH!"

I shoot my load deep inside Dave. He reaches back and grabs my ass with one
hand, he pushes me into him, vital to have my sperm.

I feel his hole spasm against my cock as his prostate pumps his load onto
the sheet.

Dave falls forward on the bed and I fall on top of him while our cocks
drain out the last of our orgasms.

Dave turns his head and we kiss. He begins to roll onto his back. I
momentarily lift my weight off of him as he turns over. We are now facing
each other. I put my hands in his hair as he kisses me again. I cannot
believe how much I love him at this moment.

I allow my body to press its full weight onto Dave. I close my eyes and
just let the post orgasmic bliss encompass us. I bask in the comfort and
warmth of Dave's presence.

We fall asleep wrapped in each other's arms.




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I'm back in my Buick. I'm moving in real time. The geese scatter.
Everything is okay.




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I gradually pass from oblivion to self-awareness. I am bounded by a total
absence of light. I am asleep and awake simultaneously.

I feel an overwhelming sense of wellbeing. It steadily forms into pleasure
that emanates from my core and extends to the infinite boundaries of my
spirit. I am filled with a powerful electric charge. All of my nerve
endings are at full capacity. I am on the perpetual edge of a vast orgasm.

If this is death, I can definitely live with it.

The sensation of an impending orgasm intensifies. I breathe hard. My heart
races. Every muscle in my body strains. The tension builds. I am lifted. I
am suspended high up in the atmosphere, helpless. Then abruptly, I am
discharged into a pure white chasm as I start cumming. I ejaculate spurt
after spurt after spurt of hot, sticky semen onto my stomach as my entire
body vibrates in violent, exquisite release.

I lie immobile as my orgasm disintegrates. My cock becomes tranquil. Time
passes. I start to drift out of consciousness, but before I return to a
dreamless sleep, I have a confusing thought. If I am dead, why do I have a
body?




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I open my eyes to an impenetrable darkness. Then I begin to see shapes as
my eyes adjust.

A ceiling.

A doorway.

A Calder mobile?

My body is warm and relaxed and lying in a sumptuous bed. I am ensconced in
incredibly soft sheets. I look down at my recumbent form. The light is too
dim to make out any details, but it appears I am covered in a luxurious
comforter.

I am naked under the covers. I sense the spent cum of my wet dream sticking
to my stomach and chest. I do not know if I came just moments ago or an
eternity ago, but I am mindful that my cock is hard and throbbing once
again.

I haven't felt this good and this horny for a long time. I momentarily
forget that I am in a strange bed, instead I happily and greedily grab my
cock and start stroking it.

"Oh my fucking god!" The sensation of my cock is extremely intense. I
stroke faster. I can't believe it; I could make myself cum right now if I
wanted to. Usually I have to jack-off with lube and really good porn for an
hour before I can finally shoot a load. It's been like that since about the
time I turned fifty-seven.

I stop stroking, but still hold my cock. Something seems different. For
some reason, it doesn't feel like my cock. It seems thicker. I move my hand
up the shaft. It also feels longer. I bring my hand down to my balls. They
feel a lot bigger too.

I throw back the comforter and top sheet.

I can barely see myself in the diminished light. I instinctively push a
button on the wall next to the headboard. I hear a faint electric motor. To
my left, a luminous white fissure from floor to ceiling penetrates the
darkness. The room gets bright as heavy drapes silently open.

How did I know the button for the drapes was right there?

I sit up on the bed. I forget about the apparent change in my cock and
balls as I look around the bedroom that is now brilliantly lit from a bank
of floor to ceiling windows. The bedroom is big. The walls are covered with
beautiful dark mahogany paneling and expensive works of art. It is
tastefully decorated with mid-century modern designer furniture.

The Calder Mobile is right above the bed. It has large, primary-colored
discs suspended at the ends of long delicate arms. The discs subtly move in
multiple directions on undetectable currents of air.

I look across the room at a modern style fireplace. There is an abstract
painting hanging above it that I know is an original Kandinsky.

I hear the muffled sound of distant traffic. I look at the windows to my
left. "What the fuck!" Just outside is a wide terrace and beyond that, an
expansive view of Central Park.

I say to myself, "Fifth Avenue penthouse," but I do not know why. I get out
of bed and go outside onto the terrace. It seems to be early spring. The
air is cold and the sky is cloudless. I form goose bumps across my naked
body. I lean over the iron railing and look down on Fifth Avenue some
twenty stories below.

I notice my cock, which is still rock solid hard. It's definitely longer
and thicker. I have also lost the bulge in my belly and, in its place, I
have an amazing eight-pack.

I feel like I should be freaking out, but for some reason, it all seems
familiar and normal.

I go back inside and head directly to the bathroom. I know exactly where
it's located.

The bathroom is large and covered in beautifully veined white Italian
marble. I stand in front of the full-length mirror and look at my naked
body.

I say out loud, "Holy fucking moly." What I see is not me, but I know it is
me.

I am a young man, sixteen years old. I have an angelic face with full,
sensuous lips. I have short, curly black hair. My body is tall and lean
without any fat. My waist is narrow and my shoulders are broad. My tight
muscles clearly stand out beneath my skin, but they are the non-bulky
muscles of a teenager.

I have thick black pubes around my cock and balls. My chest has a little
bit of black hair, mostly on the breastbone. My calves also have a sparse
amount of black hair that stops before it gets to my knees.

My skin is smooth and unblemished. It is a medium tan color. My race is
indeterminate. I could be white, I could black. I could be a conglomerate
of all races of the world. I don't know and I don't care.

I grab my thick cock and begin stroking it. I am happy to see that I am
uncut. I have always felt cheated my parents circumcised me as a
newborn. Why would anyone want to remove part of their cock? I turn and
look at my ass in the mirror. It is so fucking beautiful, big and full with
a deep inviting crevice between two powerful glutes.

It is the ass of a strong and healthy young man.

I place my hand on one of my round butt cheeks. I speed up my stroking. I
face the mirror head-on. I look myself in the eyes.

I am so fucking beautiful.

I look at my teenage cock as I am jacking it. It is seven and a half inches
long. I know this, because I have measured it in the past, but I don't know
how I know this.

I continue stroking. Then stop. I move my hands over my body and around to
my ass. I squeeze it. I look at my cock. It is angled up at well over
forty-five degrees. It almost touches my stomach. I move my hands around to
my abs, then slowly move them up my body and to my chest. I pinch my
nipples. I bring my hands back down to my cock. I stroke it with one hand
and stretch out my ball sack with my other hand. I bring myself close to
cumming, then stop. I let go of my cock and balls as I watch my cock
spasm. "Yeah." I go back to stroking. I bend forward slightly and stick my
ass out. I gently caress my butt hole.

My whole-body tingles with pleasure. I stop stroking my cock and just
lightly touch around the edge of my anus. I whisper, "Oh my god."

I stand up straight and quickly jack my cock with both hands. The I
suddenly stop and place my hands on my hips. My cock lifts and
strains. "Fuck!" I try to hold back, but my orgasm will not allow it. My
body becomes flooded with a fierce elation that steadily builds, then
abruptly releases. My cock has three intense spurts, one after another,
getting cum onto the floor.

I say out loud, "Wow." My cock is still hard and straining. I spread some
of the cum over my shaft and spit into my hand. I slowly slide my slippery
fist up and down. I squeeze the head on every upstroke. I fight the urge to
stroke faster. I ever so slowly, bring myself to the edge once again, but I
am unable stop there. I squeeze the head of my dick and jerk it in short,
tight strokes.

My whole-body shudders as I start cumming again. I aim my cock at the
mirror, I grunt with every spurt. "Uhh. Uhh. Uhh. Uhh." My cum shoots out
in thick, creamy white strands. It makes a splatting sound as it hits the
mirror and plops onto the floor.

I finally stop cumming, but continue to gently stroke my cock. I look at
the mess I just made. The mirror and floor are covered with my heavy
load. It's a lot of fucking cum. I am feeling lazy. I tell myself I'll
clean it up later.

I search out the toilet. It is behind a door inside a small room. I take a
long hard piss. After I finish, I notice a urinal just outside of the
toilet room. "That's convenient." I'll have to remember that.

I check out the shower. It is under a large skylight. The shower is very
big. It has two sets of nozzles arranged so that two people can shower side
by side. Each set has three showerheads at varying heights. The shower is
open to the bathroom on one side and is covered in the same Italian marble
as the rest of the bathroom. I get in and soak for a very long time.

After the shower, I dry off and explore the penthouse entirely naked. The
temperature inside is exactly right.

My bedroom is at the end of a long wide hallway that is set up like an art
gallery. There are skylights in the ceiling and beautiful paintings hanging
on the walls. I take my time exploring. I look inside every door. The next
room down the hall is a guest bedroom that opens onto the same terrace as
my bedroom. It has its own beautiful bathroom too, although it's not nearly
as big as mine. Next to the guest bedroom is a T.V. room, except that the
T.V. is an old vintage tube T.V. inside a big console.

That's weird.

The T.V. room is also adjacent to the terrace.

I then come into a very large open area with a vaulted ceiling and four
large skylights. The ceiling is supported by massive wood beams. I look
around. I say to myself. "Holy shit, Batman."

On one side of this living area is a wet bar. The bar back is full of
liquor bottles on glass shelves and lit from top to bottom. The bar itself
is long and gently curves out from the wall into the living area. There are
eight Eames fiberglass armchairs on high wooden dowel bases arranged around
the bar. The chairs are bright red, and the translucent fiberglass has a
beautiful sheen to it.

The focal point of this open living area is an awesome circular firepit. It
is three steps down from the main floor and has a built-in couch that goes
all the way around its border. I bet the couch could seat twenty
people. The fireplace at the center is round and open with a big hood over
it that is suspended from the ceiling.

There is a beautiful Danish modern teak dining set and a long, sleek
credenza near the doors to the terrace. There are also cozy conversation
areas and seating spread throughout the room.

The entire living area is completely designed in high-end modern décor
straight out of the late fifties or early sixties. And of course, there are
various modern masterpieces everywhere.

It is so fucking cool.

There is also an elevator that opens directly onto this room. I guess
that's my front door.

The hallway picks up on the other side of the living area, where there is a
beautifully appointed guest bathroom. Near the end of the hallway and
around a corner, is the service elevator. I guess this is my backdoor. Just
beyond the service elevator is the maid's quarters. It is a small room with
a skylight and a window that looks onto an air shaft. It has a single bed
and a functional dresser. It has a very small closet. The closet is empty
and there are no covers or sheets on the bed, just a bare
mattress. Adjoining this room is a simple efficient bathroom with a shower.

I go back into the hall. I fondle my cock for the hell of it. Then I look
behind the last door at this end of the penthouse.

Just as I suspected, it's the kitchen.

It is big and bright. The counter against the wall on the terrace-side has
windows that start at counter height and extend up to the ceiling. On this
end of the kitchen where I just entered, is a table and chairs and glass
doors opening to the terrace. There is also a breakfast bar with five
comfortable bar stools that face the kitchen. There is a big, functional
island in the middle. The kitchen could easily cater a large party of a
hundred people or more. At the other end of the kitchen is another door
that, I assume, connects to the living area I had just passed through.

All of the appliances are state of the art from about 1960, including what
has got to be the very first microwave oven. It's stainless steel and says
Tappan Electronic with little atom logos. It looks like the square head of
toy robots from the fifties.

I am beginning to suspect I have traveled back in time.

My stomach growls. I realize I haven't eaten since...Well, I don't really
know when I last ate. I look into the refrigerator. I grab some eggs and
cheese and cook it all in a big iron skillet.

I pour myself some milk from a glass bottle and eat my eggs at the table
while admiring the view of Central Park. I finish my breakfast and place
the dishes in the sink. I could really use some caffeine now. As I am
looking for the coffee, I hear the elevator door open, then a woman's
voice.

"Ross, where are you? Ross Sellwood?"

I hear her approach the kitchen. I have no time to react before she opens
the door.

"There you are." She looks me up and down. "Why aren't you ready?" She is
unfazed by my nudity.

I just stand there and look at her. She is tall and middle aged. She has
short blond hair under a dark-gray, wide-brimmed fedora. She is wearing a
light gray men's pinstriped business suit with a red and black diagonal
striped tie and black wingtips.

She looks familiar. "Jane Lynch?"

"That's my name. Don't wear it out."

We stare at each other. Then she says, "Your emancipation hearing is in an
hour. Don't tell me you forgot."

I suddenly remember. I am applying to be an emancipated minor. "You're my
lawyer."

"Are you alright?"

"I just need some coffee."

"Get dressed. I'll make it for you."

I head to my bedroom as I hear her opening cabinet doors.

My closet is a large room next to the bathroom. It doesn't have any
windows, but there is a big skylight at its center. I have a lot of nice
clothes. I start to get dressed. I put on a thin pair of brown argyle
socks. Then silk boxers and a wife beater. There is a shelf with numerous
dress shirts neatly folded with the dry cleaner's seal. I pick out a white
one. It is very crisp and heavily starched. I step into a pair of dark blue
beltless slacks with sharp creases down the legs and tuck the shirt into
them, then I slip on a pair of dark brown wingtips. I pick out an awesome
red and blue plaid sport coat. I search through my ties. I purposely select
a yellow and white plaid bowtie that artfully clashes with the plaid of my
sport coat. I have never been able to tie a bowtie, but it comes naturally
to me now.

I check myself out in the mirror. I am so fucking cute. My cock gets
hard. I can clearly see its shape in my slacks. Shit. I never had to worry
about being hard in pants before, you know, because of the size of my
former dick.

I consider rubbing one out quickly, just so I don't have to worry.

Jane Lynch comes in carrying a cup of coffee. "Here's your coffee."

I face her.

She looks directly at my crotch and rolls her eyes. She sets my coffee on a
bench and starts to walk out. "Let's go. You can drink that in the cab."

I put on a beautiful camel colored cashmere overcoat. I pick up my coffee
and follow Jane to the elevator. As we are riding down to the lobby, I
suddenly become aware that I don't just own the penthouse, I actually own
this entire building my penthouse sits on.

It seems I am quite wealthy.

Down in the lobby, the doorman holds the door for us then hails a cab. I
don't pay any attention to him. I glance at his face. "You're Dave
Chappelle."

He stares at me blankly. "Yes, Mr. Sellwood."

Shit. I'm this rich, privileged, possibly white, sixteen-year-old kid, who
is also his employer. "Um, thank you, and would you mind calling me Ross?"

He smiles sweetly. "Yes sir, Mr. Ross." Then goes back inside.

I think I detected some sarcasm.

I kind of feel that Mr. Chappelle saw the real me. He somehow bridged the
gap between the current rich boy of indeterminate race and crossed over to
perceiving the 63-year-old white man, who mostly passed as straight, and
never applied himself to anything, and still ended up with a job that
offers a retirement.

Maybe not. I look up at the sky and shake off any lingering guilt.

Jane motions me to get into the taxi, then gets in after me. There is a lot
of room in the backseat. It's an old Checker. Well, probably it's a new
Checker.

The driver looks over his shoulder. "Where to?"

Jane Lynch answers. "Courthouse."

Okay. That is definitely Will Farrell driving this taxi. The name on his
credentials confirms it. He is one of my favorite comedians. I really want
to engage him, but I'm a bit reluctant considering the interaction I just
had with Dave Chappelle. I clear my throat.

His eyes look at me from the rear-view mirror.

I hesitate "How is your day going?"

He never losses eye contact as he turns up the volume on the radio. Then he
focuses on the road ahead while the announcer blares out the weather
forecast.

What a jerk.

I sip my coffee while Will Farrell negotiates Manhattan traffic. I quickly
forget about him as I relax and enjoy the scene of New York City from the
1960's. Actually, I don't know what year it is. I look at Jane Lynch.

She looks up from her newspaper. "Yes?"

"What is today's date?"

"It's your sixteenth birthday, dummy."

I just stare at her.

"I'm sorry, Ross." She shakes my hand. "Happy birthday." She goes back to
reading.

I tilt my head so I can read the date on the paper. Friday, April 22nd,
1960. I sit back in my seat and try to process this.

Suddenly, I am flooded with memories.

My mother died when I was six. I was then raised by a series of nannies as
my father pursued his interest in making a lot of money. I was schooled at
home by experts in every field and I have an education equivalent to two
years of college.

My father made a fortune from his investments. He died last year from a
stroke brought on by stress and scotch and cigarettes and fatty foods and
maybe a broken heart. I have no living relatives and my father had no
friends, just associates. He left me a trust fund of almost thirty million
dollars. I somehow know that this is the equivalent to two hundred and
fifty million dollars, adjusted for inflation, in today's currency.

Okay, not today, but at that time, in the future, of when I accidentally
drove off the bridge.

Jane Lynch is the executer of my trust fund. She has been generous in
letting me spend it how I want. That is how I ended up with a 5th avenue
penthouse.

Today, on my sixteenth birthday, if all goes well, I will become
emancipated and in total control of my inheritance.

It makes sense now. Sort of. I'm still bothered by the un-famous, famous
people I keep bumping into. Maybe this is some kind of alternate
universe. Like in that animated Spiderman movie.

We arrive at the courthouse. I am barely surprised our judge is Hassan
Minhaj. He is even more handsome in real life than on T.V., assuming you
can call whatever this is, "Real Life".

My hearing is quick and successful as Mr. Minhaj grants me emancipation.

Jane takes me to lunch at Sardi's. Daniel Tosh is our server.

I hardly even notice.

Everybody at Sardi's seems to know Jane. Our meal is constantly interrupted
by people greeting her and gossiping about various New York celebrities.

They totally ignore me.

Jane pays for my meal. We stand outside in front of the restaurant. She
shakes my hand. "You're on your own now, kiddo."

I say "Thanks," but she is already hailing a cab.

I walk back to my penthouse at a slow pace. I'd never been to New York in
my other life, but it is very familiar to me now. I know the way. I decide
to cut through Central Park as I think about this crazy new life I have
been gifted.

It's really weird. I don't feel like I deserve it, considering how mediocre
my previous life was, but I might as well enjoy it. I haven't a clue what
is going on. I am an atheist. I assumed when I died everything would be
over. There would be nothing but stark oblivion.

Maybe what I am experiencing now is the true heaven, which is a series of
mortal lives, one after the other, that grants your every wish and even
exceeds your wildest dreams. To me, that would be a better "heaven" than
spending an eternity with all of your dead loved-ones.

I mean, how quickly would that become boring as hell?

I'm not paying much attention to where I'm going and a man bumps into me. I
look up and say "Sorry."

It's Bill Maher. He is grinning. "You're cool." He is wearing a navy-blue
watch cap, a worn out peacoat, a white turtleneck, and blue dungarees
frayed at the cuffs. He smells strongly of marijuana.

I continue walking.

Inside Central Park, I pass by an open field. There are young men playing
lacrosse. I like young men, so I sit on a bench and watch them. As I am
sitting there, I notice my penthouse off in the distance just above the
tree line. I still can't believe it.

The players are wearing jerseys with the initials M.P.S.B. I remember it
stands for Manhattan Preparatory School for Boys, which is only a few
blocks away.

Their coach is standing about twenty feet from me. He yells out
encouragement to the boys. His voice sounds familiar. He turns towards me
and says, "They've really improved."

It's Mathew Broderick. I force a smile. "Good." I go back to watching the
game. I notice this really cute guy constantly looking in my
direction. There is a break in the action and the cute guy waves as he
heads over to me.

I wave back, although I do not recognize him.

He walks up. "Good afternoon, Mr. Sellwood."

I suddenly remember. "It is nice to see you Mr. Park."

He laughs. "Don't go anywhere, Ross, I want to talk after practice."

"Got it, Kevin." I point a finger-gun at him and make a clicking sound with
my tongue.

Kevin laughs, "You're so queer," then goes back to the game.

At first, I was offended by the queer remark, but then I remembered that
was how they used to say weird.

Kevin Park lives in my building, which is a prewar apartment building I
inherited from my father.

A lot of the tenants want to make it a co-op, but others want to keep
renting. I believe Kevin's parents are in the co-op faction. They have had
me over for dinner twice now since I moved-in some six weeks ago.

I look onto the field. Their practice game is over. Kevin hands off his
stick to a teammate and jogs towards me. He has on cleats and red knee
socks. He is wearing white gym shorts and his M.P.S.B. jersey. The late
afternoon air is chilly. Steam is rising off of his shoulders. My eyes
involuntarily look at his crotch. I believe I can see his jock-strap
through the thin fabric of his shorts.

He smiles as he approaches. He has an amazing hot body. I remember he just
had his eighteenth birthday last month.

Interesting.

He comes up. "So, my parent's wanted me to ask you over for dinner
tonight."

I stand and we both head to our building. "Thanks, I'd love to."

Kevin checks his watch, "We have less than an hour, you should just come
straight up to my place now."

"Sounds good."

The doorman holds the door for us. "Good evening, Mr. Sellwood, master
Park."

It's Neil Patrick Harris. I was kind of expecting something like this, and
even though I think he is one of the most talented entertainers ever, I
have become jaded now, I unable to say anything except, "Good evening,
Neil," as we walk past him.

When we get into the elevator. I look at Kevin. "How come I get a mister
and you only get a master?"

"Maybe because you own the building. Dummy."

The elevator stops on the twelfth floor. We go into Kevin's
apartment. Kevin hangs my coat in the guest closet. He removes his cleats
in the entry and sets them next to several other pairs of shoes. "Mom, I'm
home. Kevin is with me."

Margaret Cho comes out from the kitchen. She is wearing white high heels, a
yellow cocktail dress and a lacy white hostess apron that would be
worthless if she spilled anything on it. "Hello, Ross, I hope you like pot
roast."

I guess I'm not quite as jaded as I thought, because I stare at her for a
minute before I am able to respond. "Yes. Thank you, Mrs. Park."

"Kevin, hurry up and shower. Dinner will be served as soon as your father
gets home."

"Yes, mam," I follow Kevin down the hall and into his bedroom. It's not
very big, but he still has an awesome view of Central Park.

I watch Kevin as he strips off his knee socks and pulls his jersey over his
head. I look at his chest while his face is covered by the shirt. My dick
gets hard and I have to sit on his bed to hide the bulge.

He then pulls down his shorts and jock together. He smiles at me as I try
not to look at his dick. He takes off his watch and sets it on a dresser,
then he puts on a flannel bathrobe. "Keep me company while I shower."

"Okay."

We start to leave his bedroom, then Kevin says, "Wait. Will you please grab
my gym clothes?"

"Sure." I pick up his socks, jersey, shorts and jockstrap from the floor. I
am so fucking hard right now. I follow Kevin down the hall. While he is not
looking, I sniff his jock. My cock seems to get harder. I unsuccessfully
try to reposition it.

We go inside the bathroom. "Will you put those in the hamper, please?"

I drop his dirty clothes into the hamper. I put the toilet lid down and
sit. I can see directly into the shower.

Kevin turns on the water and hangs his bathrobe on a hook on the door. He
puts one hand in the shower stream and holds onto his cock and balls with
his other hand.

I have a perfect view. I feel like on old pervert. Probably because I AM an
old pervert.

Kevin gets in and soaks his hair.

I just stare at his naked body while I discretely rub my boner through my
slacks.

He soaps up a washcloth and starts cleaning himself. I'm not sure why he
wanted me here, it's not like we're carrying on a conversation.

Kevin looks directly at me and smiles, then he looks down at his cock and
balls as he washes them with the cloth. When he is done, he rinses the soap
from his body and turns the shower off.

I hand him a towel.

"Thank you." Kevin dries himself inside the shower. He steps out and drops
the towel into the clothes hamper. He is completely naked as he combs his
hair in the mirror. He puts his robe back on and I follow him back to his
room.

I sit on Kevin's bed. He hangs the robe on a hook, then looks in his closet
totally naked. He takes his time. I can't decide if he is genuinely
oblivious to having his cock hanging out, or if he is trying to seduce me.

He looks over his shoulder. "Which jacket should I wear?"

I stand next to him. He has three sportscoats hanging in a row. His naked
body brushes my side. I pull out a blue blazer. "Wear this one."

"Okay." He takes it from my hand and sets it on his bed. He puts on black
socks and a white vee-neck tee-shirt. Then he finally puts on a pair of
white cotton boxers.

I feel like he wanted his cock exposed for as long as possible.

He finishes dressing in a white, button-down shirt and brown slacks with
brown shoes. "Will you tie my bowtie for me? I don't normally wear one, but
I think it would be neat if we matched."

"Okay." He has a bowtie the same yellow color as mine. I face him and try
to tie it, but I can't. "It's not working this way, everything is
backwards."

"Try it from behind."

Kevin faces away from me. We are the same height. I reach around him. I
stand on my tiptoes and push my body against his body. I look over his
shoulder as I tie his bowtie. I manage to get it tied correctly. "There you
go."

Kevin turns around and smiles "Thanks." He puts on his blazer and we both
go down the hall to the living room.

There is a pass-through in the wall between the dining room and the
kitchen. I see his mom on the kitchen side tossing a salad. The dining
table is set and the candles are lit.

Mr. Park comes in through the front door. He sets his briefcase down and
hangs up his overcoat. He is wearing an expensive three-piece suit. He
walks up to me with his hand extended. "Ah, Mr. Sellwood. Glad you could
come for dinner." He gives me a firm handshake.

Mr. Park is actually Randall Park, the comedian, writer, actor and
director. I smile, "Thank you so much for having me, Mr. Park, but please
call me Ross."

"Of course, Ross. And I hope you will call me Randall."

I know I own this building, but I'm still a sixteen-year-old kid. I have no
intention of calling him Randall, however I agree just to be
polite. "Sure."

Mrs. Park comes out from the kitchen and kisses her husband on the
cheek. "Dinner is ready."

"Marvelous." Mr. Park sits at the head of the table. Kevin and I sit across
from each other on the sides.

Mrs. Park goes back into the kitchen. She stands at the pass-through with
the roast. Kevin gets up, takes it from her and sets it on the table. They
pass the rest of the dinner this way until all the food is out. Then
Mrs. Park sits in the spot nearest the kitchen.

The dinner is very good. When we are finished, Mrs. Park clears the dishes
and brings back a glass cake stand. Under the glass is a molded ring of red
Jell-O with slices of bananas suspended in it. "Anyone for dessert?" She
pours herself and Mr. Park some coffee while he serves up the Jell-O on
dessert plates. They both light cigarettes.

I haven't had Jell-O since I was a kid. It's super sweet and brings back
memories of my mediocre childhood from my previous life. Even the cigarette
smoke makes me nostalgic.

While we are eating the Jell-O, Mr. Park asks me, "So, Ross, what about the
co-op? Any thoughts?"

I hadn't been thinking about it, but I make a quick decision. "Yes. I will
sell to any tenants who want to buy their apartments and form a co-op. I
will also continue to rent to anyone who cannot buy or does not want to
buy, then when they eventually move out, I'll place their apartments on the
market. Does that work?"

Mr. Park looks impressed. He shakes my hand. "That's a very savvy business
decision. You stand to make a lot of money."

I'm not concerned with making money. Of course, knowing what I know about
the Manhattan real estate market, Mr. Park also stands to make a lot of
money. I smile as we finish shaking hands.

Then Kevin asks if we could be excused. Margaret Cho says yes and we go to
his room.

Kevin hangs up his blazer and removes his tie. He smiles. "You made my dad
happy tonight."

"Great." I sit on Kevin's bed.

He sits next to me. "So, what is your penthouse like?"

"That's right, you've never seen it."

"No, I haven't."

"I have an idea. Why don't you spend the night with me tonight?"

"That would be so neat. Let's ask my mom now."

Kevin's parents give their consent and Kevin changes into casual clothes
and packs essentials into a gym bag bearing his school's initials. We have
to take the elevator down to the lobby in order to take my private elevator
to the penthouse.

Neil Patrick Harris looks up from a magazine as we cross the lobby.

We ride to the 22nd floor. The door opens. I motion for Kevin to go first
and he steps into the living area and stops. He looks around. "Holy cow."

I put my hands on his back and gently push him forward so that I can exit
the elevator too.

Kevin didn't even seem to notice me moving him out of the way. He looks at
me. "This is where you live?"

"Pretty fucking awesome. Isn't it?"

He seemed shocked by my use of the word "fucking". He looks right at
me. "Yes, it fucking is." He has a big grin.

I laugh. "Is that the first time you ever said fuck?"

"No. I say it all the time at school."

He is obviously lying, but I let it pass. He is too fucking cute. "Okay." I
make a sweeping gesture with my arm. "I'll give you the full tour in a
minute, but I need to change out of this monkey suit first."

"Okay."

We enter my bedroom and go back to the bathroom. I suddenly remember I
hadn't cleaned my cum off of the mirror from this morning, however the mess
is gone and there are fresh towels hanging up. We go back to my
closet. Kevin sits on the bench while I take off the outfit I wore to my
emancipation hearing. It feels very intimate taking my clothes off while
Kevin is watching. I have to be careful not to get a boner. I strip down to
my boxers.

Kevin stares at them, then looks up at me. "Is that silk?"

"Yeah."

He reaches out and feels the material at my thigh. "Wow. These are nice."

I walk across the closet to a set of built-in drawers. I pull out a fresh
pair of silk boxers. "Here, put these on." I toss them to Kevin.

He stands and quickly strips down until he is naked, including his
socks. Then he holds the silk boxers in his hands and gently fondles the
material.

I stare at his cock, then look at his face. My boxers are starting to tent
out a little bit. I try not to get hard.

Kevin finally puts on the boxers. He rubs his hands over the material,
causing his dick to flop around inside. He looks at me. "I'm never taking
these off."

I laugh. "Suit yourself."

We leave the closet. We are both shirtless and barefoot and just wearing
the silk boxers. The penthouse is warm enough to keep us very
comfortable. I show Kevin around the bathroom, then my bedroom. Someone has
made my bed and I am confident they put on clean sheets.

Kevin studies the Kandinsky over the fireplace. He looks at me. "This is
very beautiful. I kind of get why people like these abstract paintings,
now."

I show Kevin the rest of the house. Someone has cleaned up the mess I made
in the kitchen. We finish the tour in the living area. I sit at the bar and
Kevin gets behind it.

He looks at the bar back. "Wow. You have a lot of booze."

I do not want to serve Kevin any alcohol. I'm sure even the weakest drink
would go right to his head, then I would not feel right if we started
fooling around.

Kevin looks inside the fridge under the bar. "May I have a cream soda?"

"Get me one too."

Kevin brings up two sodas and opens them with the bottle opener attached to
the back of the bar. He grabs two highball glasses from a shelf behind him
and pours out the sodas. He comes around the bar and we carry our sodas to
the firepit.

I flip a switch and flames appear.

"Neat."

We sit next to each other and sip our sodas while staring at the flames.

Kevin asks, "What time is it?"

I look at the starburst clock on the wall. "A little after seven."

"Can we watch Rawhide?"

"Okay." We go into the T.V. room. Kevin turns on the T.V. and flips the
channel.

We sit on the couch with our feet on the coffee table. I stare at his bare
feet while watching Raw Hide. The commercials are more interesting to me
than the black and white Western itself.

After the show, Kevin stretches and yawns. "Let's get ready for bed."

"Okay."

We go back to my closet where Kevin left his bag. He takes it into the
bathroom and starts brushing his teeth. I get my toothbrush. There are two
sinks in my bathroom, but I share the sink with Kevin as we both brush our
teeth in the mirror. We rinse out our mouths using the same glass of water
and spit into the sink.

I was wondering if Kevin was going to sleep in the guest bedroom, but he
jumps into my bed before I can ask.

"Switch on that light."

Kevin turns on the table lamp next to his side of the bed. I turn off the
overhead light and turn the thermostat down, then I turn on the
fireplace. Kevin watches me walk over to him. I pull on my cock through my
boxers without really being aware I am doing it. I get into bed next to
Kevin.

The drapes are still open. The button is on Kevin's side. I point towards
it. "Push that button."

Kevin looks over to where I'm pointing. "Where?"

"That button right there."

"I don't see any button."

"Never mind, I'll get it." I slide over until my body is right next to
Kevin. Then I lean into him and reach across him as I try to push the
button myself. I am still too far away. I have to get part way on top of
him before I can push the button.

The drapes close as I move to my side of the bed.

"Neat."

I prop up my pillow and sit up on the bed. Kevin does the same. His foot
touches my foot. I'm not sure if it is on purpose or by accident, but I get
a boner. At least it can't be seen beneath the comforter.

Kevin wiggles his butt on the mattress. "These sheets are really soft."

"I know."

He gazes at the mobile. "I could look at that all day."

"Yeah, it's hypnotic."

He turns has head and smiles. "Are you trying to hypnotize me?"

"Oh no, I've been caught. I was going to make you my minion."

Kevin laughs, then he begins to fidget. It doesn't seem like he can get
comfortable. "Darn." He is frustrated.

I'm concerned. "What's the matter?"

"These boxers are all twisted up. I usually sleep in the nude." He jumps
out of bed and strips off the boxers. He looks at me. "You don't mind, do
you?"

Kevin has to be seducing me. Right?

I look at his cock as I say, "I sleep naked too." I don't want to alarm
Kevin with my erection, so I pull my boxers off while still under the
covers. I wad them up and toss them across the room.

Kevin is smiling. "Perfect." He wads up his boxers and also tosses them
across the room. Then he pulls back the covers and gets into bed.

My hard cock got exposed for a second, but I don't think he saw it.

Kevin looks at me. He is smiling. "Do you have a boner?" He slides his hand
under the covers and grabs my dick. "Yes, you do."

I gasp.

Kevin lets go of my cock and throws back the covers. "Do you want to play?"

I look at his cock. It gets hard right before my eyes.

I say, "Okay," without taking my eyes off of it.

"Great. Lie all the way down."

I move down until I'm lying flat on the bed.

Kevin gets on top of me, pressing his hard cock against mine. He lifts up
on his forearms and looks down at our dicks as he humps them
together. "Mmmm."

His dick rubbing against my dick feels really good. I get the feeling Kevin
has done this with other boys before.

He looks up at me and smiles. "It feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yeah."

He looks back down. He keeps rubbing our dicks together.

I look at our cocks too. I slowly thrust against his dick. I notice that my
dick is about an inch longer than his and a little bit thicker. I don't
care, but I am kind of proud of my cock. In my previous life, if you
recall, I was usually the smaller guy.

Kevin stops humping and looks at me. "Do you want to get on top?"

"Okay."

Kevin gets his arms under me and rolls us both over. Now I am on top. He
continues to keep me wrapped in his arms. Our bodies are pressed tightly
together. My chin is on his shoulder and our heads are next to each
other. I push my cock against him. I feel his cock pushing against me.

I lift up on my forearms and look at his face. I stare into his beautiful
brown eyes.

Kevin has a big smile. He says, "What do you like better, being on the top
or being on the bottom?"

I don't have to think about my answer. "I like being on the top better."

"Really? I like it when your weight is pressing against me."

"Sure, that feels good too." I look at our cocks." We are both leaking a
lot of precum.

After a few minutes, Kevin says, "I want to try something."

"Okay."

"Roll onto your back, but stay on top."

I'm pretty sure Kevin isn't going to fuck me, but I am curious about what
he has in mind. I roll over.

Kevin wraps his arms around my chest, then slides me up his torso a little
bit. He grabs his dick and moves it until it is sticking up between my
legs, just under my balls. "Close your legs around my penis."

I close my legs and cross my ankles.

Kevin starts thrusting between my legs. He moans. "MmmmMmmm." Then he
lowers his hand and grabs my cock. He starts stroking me.

I am now sure Kevin has definitely done this before.

He thrusts faster. He breathes harder. I feel his hot breath on my neck and
ear. He keeps stroking my cock as he fucks me between my legs. The head of
his cock hits my balls on every up stroke. The bed starts rocking. Kevin's
moans get louder. He lets go of my cock and squeezes me tightly.

I can hardly breathe. I feel his cum shooting onto my legs and balls.

Kevin curls his body against my back and grunts each time his cock
shoots. Then he finally stops cumming. He lays back and relaxes his grip on
me while letting out a long sigh.

We stay in this position for a while. Then Kevin gently nudges me off of
him.

I lie on the bed next to him. I haven't cum yet. My cock is still super
hard. I slowly stroke it as I look at Kevin

He has a great big smile. "That felt really, really good."

"Good."

Kevin looks at my hard cock, then looks me in the eyes. "Will you let me
masturbate you?"

I smile. "If you insist."

Kevin laughs. "Okay, lie back and relax."

I move to the center of the bed. I place my hands behind my head and I
spread my legs wide open.

Kevin lies on his side next to me. He places my leg between his legs so it
is pushing against his now soft cock. "I got a lot of my semen on
you. Sorry."

"It's okay. Why don't you use it?"

Kevin looks confused. "Use it? How?"

"Put it on my cock and mix it with your spit. It will get very slippery,
then you can slide your fist over my dick. You know, like lube."

"Um, okay." Kevin scoops up some of his cum from my legs and balls. He
spreads it around my hard dick. Then he drools a bunch of saliva into his
hand. He wraps his fist around my shaft and slowly slides his hand up and
down. "Oh, now I get it."

"Fuck, that feels good."

Kevin looks at me and smiles, then he looks back at my cock. He slowly
squeezes his fist up and down my shaft.

It feels amazing. "Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!"

Kevin laughs. He stops stroking me. "You cuss a lot."

"I know, but please keep going."

He looks at my cock again and resumes stroking it.

"Oh yeah, that feels so fucking good."

Kevin gradually speeds up.

I start moving my hips.

He goes faster.

"I'm going to cum."

Kevin squeezes my dick harder, but slows down his strokes, forestalling my
orgasm.

I'm frustrated, but my entire body is now tingling at the brink. It feels
too good. I can't take it. I bend my knees. I push my hips up. My dick
rises in the air.

Kevin keeps his grip on it. His hand slowly slides up the shaft and
squeezes the head.

"Oh FUUUCK!" I start cumming.

Kevin loosens his grip and strokes me faster.

I keep my hips raised and fuck Kevin's hand as I shoot my load across my
body and into my hair and face and chest. My orgasm slows down. I lower
myself back onto the bed.

I look at Kevin's beautiful smiling face. "Fuck, Kevin. That felt fucking
amazing. Thank you."

"You are fucking welcome, Ross."

We both laugh. I wipe some of my cum off of my face.

"You got semen everywhere. There's even some on the headboard."

I sit up and look. "Wow." I'm impressed with my healthy teenaged prostate.

Kevin stands. "We better shower."

"No shit"

Kevin laughs and I follow him into the bathroom.

After we shower, we get back into bed. All of the lights are off. There is
just the flickering of the fireplace. As I am lying in the bed, Kevin
slides over to me until the sides of our bodies are touching.

He rolls onto his side, crosses his leg over my legs, drapes his arm across
me and rests his head on my chest.

The warmth of his body feels good. I put my hands in his hair and fall
asleep.

I feel movement on the bed. I open my eyes. My bedroom gets bright as the
drapes open.

Kevin gets out of bed. "Wake up sleepyhead." He is smiling.

I smile back. "What time is it?"

"Ten-thirty. I'm hungry."

"Me too." I get out of bed. It is bright and sunny outside.

Kevin says, "Let's take the terrace."

"Okay."

We go onto the terrace. It is a little cool, but the sun feels good on my
naked body. We walk to the other end of the terrace and enter the kitchen
through the glass doors by the breakfast table.

As I am looking in the fridge, I ask Kevin, "How about bacon and eggs?"

"Yes, please."

I quicky fix breakfast. I get grease all over the stovetop, but I don't
bother to clean it up.

We take our plates onto the terrace and sit at a glass topped table in
patio chairs with thick cushions. The sun feels good. It is one of those
spring days where you know summer is just around the corner.

We eat breakfast in the sun, totally naked.

When we finish, Kevin says thanks, then begins to pick up the dishes.

"Just leave them."

"Okay." While Kevin is standing there, he casually scratches his balls.

I stare. My cock gets hard.

Then Kevin gets hard. He looks at me with this sexy smirk, then lies on a
chaise lounge. He puts his arms over his head and stretches while pointing
his feet and toes.

His body is so beautiful. His hard cock is so beautiful. I just stare.

He quits stretching and sits up. He raises the back of the chaise, then
sits with his back against it and his knees bent. He places his feet in
front of him on the cushion with his knees far apart. He slowly stokes his
cock while smiling at me.

I stand at the foot of the chaise and stroke my cock. I look at his
gorgeous cock and balls, my eyes follow down his taint to the crevice
between his ass cheeks. It is a beautiful view. "Lie back."

Kevin moves forward on the cushion until he has enough room to lie down,
but he keeps his knees bent.

I get on the chaise on my knees. I grab his ankles and push his legs
up. His asshole comes into view. "Hold your legs up."

Kevin hesitates, but then grabs his ankles.

I let go. I bend forward and stick my tongue out. I push it between his
cheeks. I lick his hole.

Kevin's entire body tenses.

I can tell he is surprised, maybe even shocked. I'm sure no one has ever
done this to him before. I lick his hole again, then circle my tongue
around the rim, not giving him a chance to protest.

He lets out a long and satisfied moan. "Mmmmmmmm."

I continue to eat Kevin. I have never rimmed anyone in my previous life,
and I have only been rimmed once. It felt fucking amazing, but I was too
freaked out to fully enjoy it. Now I am really enjoying eating Kevin's
hole.

Kevin rests one hand on my head and strokes his cock with the other
hand. He manages to keep his legs in the air as I continue with my
analingus. "That feels really good."

I stop for a moment and look at his face. "I'm glad you like it."

He smiles, then gets a kind of perplexed look. "Do you want to cornhole
me?"

I guess he is trying to understand my motive for tonguing his hole. I
wouldn't mind fucking him, but it kind of seems wrong at the moment. "Um,
not now, maybe some other time. If you'd let me."

Kevin doesn't say anything. There is a brief awkward pause. Then he says,
"Could I do it to you too?"

"I guess that's fair."

Kevin smiles. "Okay. Great. Now will you keep licking me while I masturbate
to climax?"

The way Kevin phrased that, almost made me laugh. In answer to his
question, I stick my tongue into his hole.

"Mmmmm...MMMmmmmm." Kevin resumes stroking his cock.

I continue licking and rimming his ass.

Kevin groans and strokes his cock faster.

I fuck his hole with the tip of my tongue.

Kevin pulls on my hair. He takes short, excited breaths. Then grunts in
pleasure, "Ah ah ah ah..." as his cock cums in his hand.

I pull my head out of his ass and look at his face.

He lets go of my hair and puts his legs down on the chaise. He is smiling
broadly. "That felt gooood." He looks at the cum on his hand, then wipes it
across his abs. He looks back up at me.

I stand up at the end of the chaise. I slowly stroke my cock while admiring
Kevin's beautiful body. I am also smiling broadly.

Kevin says, "Where did you get the idea to lick me like that? It seems
really icky."

"But you liked it, right?"

"Yeah. I sure did."

"Would you like to try it on me?"

Kevin loses his smile. He gets serious. He eyes look up and to the left. He
is obviously thinking about it. Then he gets this mischievous smirk. "Yes,
please."

I laugh as Kevin and I switch places.

I sit on the chaise and lean back. I hook my left arm under my left knee
and hold my ass up. I feel the cool spring air on my waiting hole. I grab
my cock with my right hand and slowly stroke it.

Kevin gets on his knees and puts one hand on my leg. He stares at my
hole. He bends forward, sticks his tongue out and licks it.

I gasp.

Kevin looks up at me.

I smile. "Keep going."

Kevin looks back at my hole and buries his face in between my butt
cheeks. He starts running his tongue around the edge.

"Oh fuck." I stroke my cock faster.

Kevin gets hard. He starts stroking his cock.

I get more excited knowing that Kevin is getting excited from licking
me. "Yeah, Kevin, lick my hole."

Kevin forces me farther back, causing my ass to stick up more. He shoves
his tongue into my hole.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck."

Kevin's tongue goes deeper into me than I thought possible. He just keeps
sticking his hot wet tongue in and out. In and out.

It feels too good. "I'm going to cum!"

Kevin lifts his mouth from my ass and sits back.

"Don't stop." My voice is desperate.

"I wanted to watch."

I'm pulled back from the brink of cumming. I slow down my strokes. I'm
disappointed he stopped rimming me, but I fully understand him wanting to
see me cum. "Okay, but you will have to put your finger in me then."

Kevin looks surprised, then he gets that mischievous grin again. "Okay." He
holds his index finger up, showing it to me, then he points it at my ass
hole. He slowly pushes it in.

"Oh yeah." It feels really good. I go back to stroking my cock.

Kevin fucks me with his finger. He moves it faster. He starts stroking his
cock. He looks like he could cum again.

I'm getting close once more. "Fuck yeah. Finger my hole." I'm worried Kevin
is going to stop a second time. I stroke faster. I need to cum. Then Kevin
twists his hand around. His finger pushes up on my prostate. "Uuuhhh!" I
feel a deep and incredibly intense sensation inside me as his finger runs
back and forth over my prostate. "I'm cumming!" I start shooting cum right
into my face. The spurts are long and powerful. The cum is hot. I like how
it feels.

Kevin pulls his finger all the way out, then immediately starts cumming. He
points his cock right at my hole and shoots his cum directly on it.

I wipe my cum off of my face and look at Kevin as his cock is shooting its
load.

His eyes are focused on my ass. His upper lip is slightly curled. His body
spasms as he finishes. Then he looks at me. Our eyes meet and he gives me a
big smile.

I smile back. I lower my legs.

Kevin crawls onto the chaise and gets on top of me. I wrap my legs around
him. He kisses the crook of my neck, then quietly lays there with his full
weight bearing down on my body.

I almost fall asleep.

Kevin stands. "We should shower."

We get into my bedroom just as the phone rings. I answer. "Hello."

"Hello Mr. Sellwood. Your cleaning crew is here."

The voice is familiar. It is unmistakably John Mulaney. I'd recognize his
voice anywhere. "Thank you, John. Have them wait. I'll call down when I'm
ready."

"Yes sir." John Mulaney hangs up.

I must already be feeling privileged. In my previous life, I would never
make anyone wait like that. Even if they worked for me, but now I don't
care. I am going to take an unhurried shower with Kevin, cleaning crew be
damned.

We get in the shower and wash each other's bodies. Afterwards, we get
dressed and hug outside the elevator before Kevin goes home. Then I call
down to the lobby.

"Yes, Mr. Sellwood?"

"You can send them up now, John."

"Yes sir."

I sit at the firepit. I page through a "Life" magazine. I hear the service
elevator open. A minute later, six people walk into the living area. They
are all wearing beige workpants and blue, long sleeve shirts with a red
oval patch over the breast pocket bearing each of their first names. On the
back of the work shirts is my company's name, Sellwood Maintenance. They
also have cleaning supplies and equipment on a rolling cart.

I politely smile at the cleaning crew from my seat in the fire pit. "I'm
sorry to keep you waiting Ms. Sykes."

Wanda Sykes looks at me. "That's not a problem Mr. Sellwood." She looks at
her crew. "Okay. You know what to do. Now get to work." They break up into
pairs and head in different directions.

Pete Davidson and Aziz Ansari head down the hall towards my bedroom.

Sarah Silverman and Patton Oswalt go into the kitchen.

Wanda Sykes and Amy Schumer start dusting in the living area.

I am totally unimpressed now with these non-celebrities. I go back to my
magazine. As I am browsing through the pages of "Life", I begin to feel
annoyed with the intrusion of my privacy by the cleaning crew.

Wanda Sykes is nearby. I look at her. "Ms. Sykes?"

She stops dusting. "Yes sir?"

"How soon will you be done?"

"We'll be out of here in less than thirty minutes, Mr. Sellwood."

Even though I know cleaning my penthouse in thirty minutes is an amazing
accomplishment, I am unable to hide my exasperation at the
inconvenience. "Can you hurry up?"

Wanda Sykes glances over at Amy Schumer before she answers. "Yes sir."

I look back down on the pages of "Life". "Thank you."

I hear her mutter something. I assume it was derogatory. I couldn't care
less.



The End



H.T. Bruhaus May, 25th 2022 ht.bruhaus@yahoo.com


I am 63 years old now. I have been retired for 5 months. I think about
death a lot, but not in a fearful way. It's more about reminding myself I
need to make the most of the rest of my life. That is why I am moving to
Portugal. I want to have one final adventure before I am dead.

Clearly this story has practically nothing to do with death. Steven Fremont
didn't really die, he just passed through to another, more awesome life. I
am sorry if all you wanted to do was jack-off to an erotic story, but then
ended up losing your boner and feeling depressed because I made you think
about dying.

Try not to worry about it. Literally billions of people have died before
you and billions of people will die after you. Death is the price everybody
pays for the privilege to be self-aware.

Feel better now?


Here is the link to my directory on Nifty, just in case you would like to
read some of my other stories.

https://search.niftyarchives.org/?keywords=bruhaus

You could also search "bruhaus" on Nifty's home page to reach my directory.

I enjoy getting feedback. Email me at ht.bruhaus@yahoo.com if you would
like to contact me. I don't promise to write you back, but I do promise I
will try to write you back.

Please send Nifty some money if you haven't already. There is no such thing
as a free orgasm.

Actually, I hope that's not true.


Thanks, Dave


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