Date: Fri, 8 May 2020 13:24:22 -0400
From: Andrew Gabriel <andrew.r.gabriel@gmail.com>
Subject: Still Straight, More or Less

Still Straight, More or Less
By Andrew R. Gabriel

Categories: Gay Male / Adult Friends / Interracial

This story is grounded in reality, but it is exaggerated and with names and
details changed to either protect the innocent and not-so innocent, or to
make it flow better as a story. Not all of this happened, but a lot of it
did. More or less...

It's a story of sexual tension and eventually explicit sex between two
consenting adult men. It starts slow, as some of the best things in life
do. But it will heat up eventually, trust me. In between there is some
non-consensual groping, as well as prostitution, drug use and a lot of
alcohol. If it is illegal for you read such story, or if it is not your cup
of tea, stop now please. This is my work, you are welcome to pass it on but
do not copy and repost it as your own work.

Comments are more than welcome. This my first contribution to Nifty, and I
would love to learn what you think of my work. My email is
andrew.r.gabriel@gmail.com


***

In 2010, about 6 months after I got hired at my employer, a professional
services company on the US East Coast, I was asked to help with recruiting
a new hire. The company was looking to expand our team with someone fresh
out of undergrad. I figured they wanted my help since I am closer in age to
the target audience than the other team members, even though I just turned
30. It probably also helped that I have generally a very friendly
disposition, unlike some of the grumpy bears in the team... We'd want to
make a good impression on potential new hires.

Since this was in the wake of the financial crisis and the job market was
far from good, we had a lot of applicants to sift through. Many of them
were qualified, and we brought in a half dozen of what looked on paper to
be the strongest ones. Most of the interviewees performed acceptable during
the interview, but one of them, a 22 year old guy called Samson, stood
out. And for more than one reason. He had done his homework on the company
and the job, and he aced the answers. His qualifications checked all the
boxes. His enthusiasm was also off the charts, he really wanted this
job. And he was hot! To be clear, that was not at all a job requirement,
but in my book it was certainly a nice plus. Tall and toned, great hair and
a killer smile. I'd later learn he was of filipino descent. He was
charming, maybe even a little flirty, and would do great with customers.
There were four of us who interviewed each candidate, and we unanimously
agreed that it was not a very difficult choice, we offered Samson the
job. He was going to be on the same team as I, with the same boss.

Maybe a little about me: I'm your average gay white guy. Out and proud at
work, single at the time. Guy-next-door look and the beginning of a
dad-bod. My biggest asset (pun intended) is probably my dick, which is just
under 9", uncut.

Even though I was not at the company that long myself, 6 months, I had some
prior experience and I knew enough how things worked that my boss asked me
to mentor Samson and help him settle in at work. He was very professional
and a quick learner. We had lunch together a couple times each week to go
over issues he encountered at work. This also allowed us to bond together.
We found we have a fair amount of common interests: watch many of the same
TV shows, play the same computer games, like the same sports and sport
teams etc. I also learned he had a girlfriend he met in college, and they
just moved in together. Ugh. I liked Samson, and I was physically attracted
to him I suppose. I also realized that he is as straight as they come. I've
had crushes on straight friends before, and it invariably ends with me
getting my heart broken. And he was a colleague I liked and respected, and
I didn't want to jeopardize that. So I did my best to keep things strictly
friendly and professional.

At the office, Samson was well-liked. His natural charm and amazing looks
helped of course. He was particularly popular with the female colleagues,
to the point that it became almost a running joke. When a difficult meeting
about budgets was coming up with the head of finance, a crabby older female
executive, my boss told me to send Samson along. I asked him: "Are you sure
about that? Samson is the most junior on the team and he has not been with
us that long."  "Trust me, she has a soft spot for Samson, she won't say no
to the budget request if he's there."  To my surprise, he was right. The
budget was approved without issue.  Samson was starting to realize he had
near-magical powers in the office. One time when he had stepped away from
his cubicle a colleague remarked to Samson as he returned that a lady came
by to see him. Samson replied "Oh, that happens all the time" and he
started to laugh at his own joke.


-- Our first business trip --

After a couple months there was a work conference and our team could send
two people to attend. Samson and I were picked. We both had been working
quite hard, and our boss wanted to show some appreciation. I'll take it! It
was a rather posh affair in a fancy resort, all on the company's dime. We
could also tag on a weekend if we wanted to. Samson and I decided to take
advantage of that, and flew out on a Friday afternoon. Although the
conference was still work-related, this would be the first time Samson and
I were going to hang out outside the office. Our office culture is rather
formal, so we always dressed in business clothes. When we met at the
airport to catch our flight was the first time I saw Samson in a casual
outfit: jeans, T-shirt and a hoodie. I suppose he looked good in almost
anything, but his outfit accentuated his age: he really looked like a
college kid.

When we got to the resort it was getting late, and we hadn't had dinner
yet. The main restaurant was already closed, but the bar kitchen was still
open. We dropped off our bags in our respective rooms, and met in the bar
for a burger and a beer. And what started as one beer became many beers. I
was pacing myself and drinking somewhat slowly, trying to keep things
professional since we were at a work-related event. But Samson was letting
loose, and going quite hard on the beer. I could handle alcohol pretty
well, the result of years of training. Samson was no light-weight either,
but he was clearly getting inebriated. He started to call me "dude" and
"bro", which he had never done before. I thought it was funny to see how he
his tone was changing. In that state he also got a little emotional,
expressing how much he appreciated how I was helping him at work.  "Thanks
bro for all you do for me. I don't think I would have made it through
without you, man. This shit they make us do is hard, and you are really
always there for me. I mean it dude, you keep me so much out of trouble. I
love you, man."  It was nice to hear, as it was obviously heartfelt. Even
as I realized that "I love you"-statement was probably intended as purely
platonic. After he said it, he also got up from his bar stool and hugged
me. We had never really touched other than a handshake. His muscular arms,
the firmness of his pecs - it was exciting. But what really pushed my
buttons was his smell. His musk was masculine, sexual almost. I hugged him
back, and uttered something about how great it was to work with him. After
that I was a little afraid of where this would go, mostly afraid of losing
control of my own words and actions, so I declared I was ready for bed
after a long work week. He concurred, and we both went to our rooms after
agreeing on a time to meet for breakfast.

The next morning breakfast was a very nice buffet, with lots of choices. I
had a slight hangover, but nothing coffee couldn't cure. Samson seemed as
fit as ever, with no sign of a hangover. Oh, and he also declared he went
for a run before breakfast. Ah, to be young! Since we had the entire
weekend to ourselves, we discussed options how to spend it. We landed on
some tennis, some golf, attending a show and spending time relaxing by the
pool, spread out over both Saturday and Sunday. He beat me easily in
tennis, I won squarely at golf. The show was fun. But what really made the
weekend for me was the time by the pool, which we ended up going to on
multiple occasions. Samson had apparently decided on some very sexy, white
and almost see-through speedo-style swimwear for himself. He looked
incredible: muscular chest with pronounced pecs, small brown nipples and
six-pack abs, hairless except for a trimmed treasure trail, strong hairless
arms and legs, a bubble butt you could bounce anything off and his snug
swimwear clearly indicated an above-average dick. The white of the swimwear
accentuated beautifully the brownness of his skin. It was difficult not to
stare, for me and I could tell also for other resort guests. More than a
few men and women turned their heads for him. In between swimming we lay on
lounge chairs next to each other, sipping cocktails, doing a bit of reading
and chatting. There were a fair amount of people but it was not crowded, so
we had some privacy for our conversation. Apparently Samson was not only
being admired, he was also admiring others. Several times he made comments
about women (who were out of earshot).  "Look at the tits on the brunette
there." "Oh dude, look at that Asian girl." "Man, that blonde is smoking
hot."  I first did not really react, but after a couple of times I reminded
him with a smile that he's making these comments to a gay guy. I had been
out to him since he started at the company. When I said it he turned
beet-red.  "Oh dude, sorry. I totally spaced out. I knew you are gay but
I...  I really didn't mean anything with those comments."  I assured him it
was fine, funny actually. After a minute or so, he asked: "Hey, are you
checking out guys the way I am checking out girls?"  "Yes, of course. Gay
guys and straight guys are not really any different that way."  "Cool. I
never really thought about that. So indulge me then. Who here do you think
is hot?"  I wanted to say "You" but was too scared to do that. So instead I
nodded to a couple of guys that were objectively hot, although not quite in
his league.  "Huh. So what do you look for in a guy then?"  "Not all gay
men are the same. Just like some straight guys are more attracted to
breasts and others more to asses, different gay men focus on different
parts of the anatomy."  "Yeah, that makes sense. So what is important for
you then?"  "Ah. I usually say I like smart guys, but if I am really honest
I like chests and butts. What makes a girl hot in your eyes?"  "I like my
women sporty and with nice titties. Firm, perky, not too big."

From there the conversation drifted into different chit-chat topics until
it was time for dinner. Since Friday evening we had a simple bar burger
dinner, for Saturday we decided on a nice steak dinner in the resort
restaurant. Similar though, a lot of alcohol. Not only were we sipping
cocktails most afternoon, we had a couple of bottles of nice wine with
dinner and afterwards made it to the cigar and whiskey bar. I usually don't
smoke, but I'll make an exception for cigars if they accompany a nice peaty
scotch. I didn't know Samson liked scotch or cigars, but he gave the
impression he had them before. I asked him about it.  "I guess I'm a little
young to be really into whiskey. I usually drink sweeter liquor, perhaps a
whiskey-coke. Or vodka. I prefer clubs, and this is my first time in a
whiskey bar. But it's neat though. A first time for everything, right?"
"Yep, indeed. And there is no club here in the resort, so that makes it an
easy choice. How about cigars? I did not realize you smoked."  "I'll smoke
a joint with my bros, but yeah cigars not usually."  He paused after that
and looked a little worried, as if he realized he probably should not talk
to a colleague about using marijuana as the company had a strict no-drug
policy. I decided to make him feel at ease.  "Yeah, it's been a couple of
years since I used pot. And I'll only have a cigar in a place like this,
perhaps once or twice a year."  He relaxed. I suppose he was seeing how far
he could push the envelope when he said: "When I go to the club I usually
take either mollie or LSD. Makes for a really fun night."  "Cool. Is that
addictive?"  "Nah, I only take it at the club, never elsewhere. I've done
crystal meth but I'm a little scared of it. I took it once last year in
college with some friends. We all got so horny, we had an orgy the whole
night until sunrise. Only that one time though."  That was a lot to take
in. The fact that he occasionally used hard drugs needed some processing,
as I never had and didn't plan on doing so. But more importantly, the idea
of Samson fucking his brains out with a group of friends while high on
drugs got me instantly hard. He was also notably non-specific about the
gender of his friends, which had my fantasy going wild as well. Samson was
staring at me to gage my reaction, so I just laughed, slapped him friendly
on the back and changed the subject.  Sunday went very similar to Saturday,
except that Sunday evening the conference started, which included us
socializing with the other attendees. The conference itself was
interesting, but Samson and I did not have much one-on-one time with each
other anymore.


-- A promotion --

Back at the office things went back to their normal, busy routine. Business
was actually quite good. During the financial crisis, before I joined, the
company went through a difficult patch but now we were expanding. And for
for a solid performer like me, that meant a promotion. I was getting my own
team to run. "Minions to do my bidding", as one of my friends jokingly
called it. That was not at all how it worked in practice, but anyway I
suppose the image is flattering (for me, less so for the minions). Turned
out Samson, being more junior than anyone else in the group, was going to
be on my team, while the rest of them would be new hires. I was a little
worried how he would react. Not only did we go from being peers to a very
different professional relationship, some of the things we talked about at
the conference are not really things one should discuss with one's
supervisor at work, to say the least. That goes double so in the
conservative office culture we had.

Samson was indeed a little startled when he learned the news. I tried to
put him at ease in our first meeting where we went over his new tasks and
assignments. His demeanor was changing before my eyes. After the conference
he had returned to a friendly but professional attitude, and dropped the
"bro" and "dude". But now that I had become his supervisor, he was becoming
a little overly formal and submissive, particularly in the first few weeks
when we hadn't hired anyone yet and it was just him and I. He started to
call me "sir", which I asked him not to do but he kept sprinkling it in
from time to time. His confidence seemed to have gone, he almost seemed
scared of me. As time passed and as we started to expand the team, he
relaxed gradually and the confident, charming Samson from before
returned. I was glad to see it.

Having an expanded team meant that we needed to grow our business. We had
mouths to feed. One of the companies we had started to do business with
recently, Feldermeier, was located in Germany. We suspected that we could
do much more for them, but it was difficult to tease all that out over the
phone. I needed to go to Germany and discuss our capabilities in person
with the customer. Since the customer was going be there with an entire
team including their founder, I did not want to go alone. I asked Samson in
my office.  "Samson, do you have a passport?"  "Yes, I do. Why do you ask?"
"We need an in person meeting with Feldermeier. I know you have been
supporting the project with them. There is a lot more we can do for them,
but it will require a good sales pitch to make them comfortable with our
capabilities, and I need a wingman who is familiar with the details. Are
you available to go to Germany with me?"  "Certainly, that sounds like
great opportunity! Thank you for including me, sir."

Our flight to Munich was uneventful. We traveled over the weekend, so we
could get adjusted for the jet lag. We had our meeting scheduled for
Monday. On Sunday morning, I got a call from Joerg Feldermeier, the founder
and general manager of Feldermeier. He told me how much he appreciated that
we came all the way from the US for this meeting, and as a token of his
appreciation he would like to invite us to attend a wine festival in his
home village. It would be fun he said, if we were up for it he would send a
car service to pick us up. Customer is king, so of course we accepted. And
it sounded actually like it could be fun and good way to break the ice with
the customer in an informal setting. This was going great!

It was not even noon yet when we arrived at the wine festival. I had never
met Feldermeier in person, but I recognized him from his picture. He was a
handsome, tall and imposing man in his early forties with an impressive
mustache. I did not realize it until we met right then, but my gaydar went
off strongly with him. If I was right about that, that could perhaps be a
plus in the relationship as well. He welcomed us warmly, and almost
immediately he handed both Samson and I a glass of local wine. I got the
impression he was not on his first glass of the morning. After some
pleasantries and a second and third glass of wine we ordered some food. I
noticed how Feldermeier gradually started to pay less attention to me, and
more attention to Samson. Yep, he was gay alright and Samson's handsome
looks and smile were having their magical effect on Feldermeier. Samson
seemed completely oblivious to the whole dynamic, but loved the attention
and he was entertaining Feldermeier with his observations about Germany and
how much he liked the country and its culture. Feldermeier hung on his
lips, it was amusing to watch. This was not how I had expected this meeting
to go, but I did not see any harm. Business topics were for tomorrow, today
was supposed to be small talk. Feldermeier insisted early on that we call
him Joerg. And for some reason Joerg decided to call Samson not just
Samson, but Samson dear. That for me put away any lingering questions
regarding Joerg's sexual orientation. We all had our fun in this exchange:
Joerg admiring Samson, Samson soaking in the attention and I was thoroughly
entertained watching the interplay between Joerg and Samson. As such we
spent several hours enjoying German wine and snacking on sausages and
bread.

I was not sure how this evening was going to wind down but then Joerg threw
a curveball, something I did not expect. After a couple of hours, it was
mid-afternoon now, Joerg stated how much he enjoyed the company and he
asked if we wanted to join him at his home and perhaps have dinner together
there. Of course we did. It was a customer inviting us after all. Samson
seemed to still have no clue about any gay undertones with Joerg, and
during the conversation Samson had made several references to his
girlfriend. It was a short ride to Joerg's house, a secluded, beautiful,
old but renovated villa with a garden next to a small river. The guy
clearly had done well for himself. He seemed to live alone. He guided us to
an outside patio, excused himself and said it would be a little while
before he's back. Samson and I were now alone. I was considering leaving
Samson in the dark about Joerg being gay, but in the end decided to take
this opportunity to make sure he understood. After all, Joerg was an
important customer and I needed today and tomorrow to go well. When I told
Samson that I suspected Joerg to be gay, he was a little surprised but did
not show much reaction.

Joerg came back only after thirty minutes or so, and he explained that he
stepped away to call one of his friends who owns a butchery, and he asked
him if he could deliver meat and veggies for a barbecue. I've you've ever
been to a Southern German village on a Sunday, you'll know that it is not
easy to pull off a short notice delivery like that, since all the stores
are closed on Sunday. I guessed that is why the call took so long.

However, Joerg also clarified that it was going to be a few hours before
his friend would be here with the food. We had some time to kill. And then
he cheekily asked if Samson, since he had been raving about Germany for
much of the afternoon, would be interested in a truly German experience?
Samson's eyes opened wide.  "What do you mean, Joerg?"  "I am referring,
Samson dear, to a genuine German sauna. I had one built in my basement,
next to a small pool. Would you be interested?"  My heart skipped a beat,
and I had to work hard to suppress a smile. This horny, sneaky devil really
had thought this one through! I was however also a little worried that
Joerg would be hoping for more than just a sauna, which could make both
today and our business meeting tomorrow very awkward.  Samson responded
enthusiastically. An afternoon filled with libation helped to loosen any
inhibitions of course. Joerg then invited us inside, to his basement. It
was a beautifully finished basement, with a fairly large pool in stone
(Joerg was being modest when he referred to it as small) and a nice sauna
that was already running. He must have turned it on before he called his
friend. I was more and more in awe with his determination and planning.
Samson started to comment: "This could be fun. I've been in a sauna in the
gym a couple of times, but this seems much nicer."  "Trust me it is much
nicer, Samson dear. Also, in gyms they don't turn the heat up properly, so
you don't experience the health benefits."  "That makes sense. Ok, let do
this. Joerg, do you have shorts or swim pants we can borrow?"  The smile
that appeared on Joerg's face when Samson asked that question was
priceless. Equally precious was Samson's reaction when Joerg responded:
"Samson dear, Germans always take sauna in the nude. No shorts or swim
pants."  Samson's mouth dropped open, and he did not know what to say.
"Come on, Samson dear. It is just us guys here. No need to be shy."  And
with that, Joerg started to undress. Samson stood there frozen. Samson had
demonstrated earlier (at the conference) that he is not shy about his body
at all, but the realization that he was about to be completely naked and
somewhat drunk with two older gay guys in a small room seemed to be giving
him pause. I needed to help him, the poor guy. I asked: "Joerg, before we
go in can I use the restroom, please?"  "Of course, It's next to the front
entrance on the ground floor."  "Thank you, Joerg. Samson, do you need to
go as well?"  "Yes, I'd better. Good idea."  We left Joerg, went upstairs
and I now had a chance to talk to Samson alone for a couple of minutes.
"Are you ok?"  "Yeah, probably just a little bit of a culture shock."  "If
you don't want to do this, we can back out. It would be awkward, but we
could."  Samson was quiet for a moment, and then said: "No we should do
this. We've come too far now. I'm glad you're here, I'm not sure what I
would have done if it was just me."  I thought to myself that I was glad to
be here as well, but for a very different reason. I had seen Samson in
swimwear at the conference several months ago, but now I was about to see
him in all his glory. We went back down, where we found Joerg completely
naked outside the sauna waiting for us. Joerg was a handsome man fully
dressed, and he was good-looking nude as well. Not muscular or toned, but
fairly slim and lanky with nicely trimmed chest hair and pubes. And a nice
flaccid uncut dick.

Samson and I both stripped, with Samson first covering himself with his
hands, but once we sat down in the sauna he started to relax. There were
three benches placed in a U-format, and each of us sat on one bench. Joerg
in the middle and I facing Samson. I had a superb view of Samson's cut
cock. Although flaccid, he looked above average. And he had completely
shaved his pubes and balls, which made his cock look bigger.

After a couple minutes of adjusting to the heat in silence, Joerg started
to talk about Germany's Freikorperkultur, or free body culture, and how
public nudity is very common and not necessarily sexual. Although it was
new to Samson I was familiar with the movement. As Joerg continued to talk
about the history of the free body culture movement I thought to myself
that us being here in the sauna is not just about free body culture but has
also a sexual component to it. I was about to be proven right on that.

Joerg threw some water with eucalyptus oil on the heater, and the increased
humidity made the sauna a lot more intense. We all became quiet to
re-adjust. We were now probably about twenty minutes in the sauna, and the
heat together with the alcohol consumption throughout the day made me a
little lightheaded, and I suggested we go for a swim to cool off. They
agreed, and the pool was incredibly refreshing. It also gave Joerg and I
the opportunity to admire Samson's ass and the rest of his body. After a
bit of soaking, Joerg asked if we we were ready for round two and we went
back in the sauna. This was when Joerg made his next move: "Samson dear,
sauna is particularly good for your blood flow. But you can augment the
effect with a little massaging to improve the blood flow in you
muscles. Here, let me demonstrate."  And without hesitation, he started to
massage Samson's thighs with both hands. Samson muttered a faint protest,
but essentially let Joerg have his way. Joerg's hands gradually got closer
to Samson's still flaccid cock, and within moments he was stroking Samson
and fondling his balls. Joerg was clearly enjoying this, and he was fully
hard, showing about 7" or so of hot cock. Samson was starting to
panic. Although he did not push Joerg away, his protest became more clear:
"Please, stop. Please, stop. I am straight, I have a
girlfriend. Please...".  Although it was in a twisted way very hot to
watch, and I was getting a hard-on like Joerg, this was going too far. I
had to step in.  "Joerg, I don't think Samson is really into what you are
doing. Perhaps best to leave him be."  Joerg backed off.  "Ok then. Sorry,
I just wanted to show you a good time."  Samson just nodded, and sighed in
apparent relief.  "But now I'm excited. And I can see I'm not the only
one," Joerg said.  He was turning his attention to me. I was still sporting
an erection.  "Can I demonstrate my massage skills on you?"  "Sure, that
sounds like fun."  "Samson dear, you may want to step out if two men make
you uncomfortable."  "Ok..."  But Samson did not move as Joerg turned to
me, and within moments Joerg was giving me a terrific blowjob. Samson was
now smiling at me and gave me a wink. Joerg did not notice, as he was
completely concentrated on my dick and balls. I guess Samson was cool with
watching, less with participating.  After a little while, the blowjob
evolved into Joerg and I sixty-nining in the sauna. When we both came we
were covered in cum. Joerg licked some of mine up, and joked.  "Hmm,
usually I have cum as dessert but it makes a great appetizer before dinner
as well."  Samson was still sitting next to us, and he was gently stroking
his impressive, hard 8" cock. He seemed to have liked our little show.

We washed up, and went upstairs. Joerg's friend arrived with the food and
had started barbecuing. The four us had a nice dinner. The sexual tension
of the evening had ebbed, and the jet lag was perhaps starting to hit
Samson and I a little. As we took a taxi back to the hotel, Samson and I
didn't talk much. I guess we both had a lot to process.

The next day, the customer meeting went swimmingly and actually ended early
when Joerg declared after perhaps two hours of presentation and discussion
that he wanted to award us with the contract we were hoping for. Mission
accomplished! As we got back to the hotel much earlier than originally
scheduled, I asked Samson: "Should we perhaps talk about yesterday?"
Samson sighs: "We probably should, yeah. I freaked out a little when Joerg
started to touch me, but watching you and him was actually really fucking
hot. What does that say about me? Does that make me gay?"  "No Samson, it
does not. Look, anyone can get excited when people are having sex right
next to you."  "Yeah, but you were two dudes! And... when we got back to
the hotel last night I jerked off thinking about it. Twice."  "Hmm, perhaps
Joerg would like to know about that" I joked and gently poked my elbow into
his ribs.  "It's not funny."  "It is a little funny. Look, nobody is 100%
gay or straight."  "I need some time to digest this."

After a little pause we both stated that we felt like going to bed early
tonight. I went to my room and did some work, and had dinner in the room
watching some TV. After dinner I wanted to go for a walk before going to
bed. While exiting the hotel I saw that Samson was sitting in the lobby,
chatting with a pretty young girl, petite with shoulder-long black hair. I
estimated her around his age, early twenties. She was all over him,
touching his arms and legs and giggling. Samson didn't see me at first, but
then he looked straight at me. They got up and went arm-in-arm to the
elevator, I suppose to his or her room. He looked back at me
twice. Apparently his way of coping with his recent self-image issue is to
hook up with a local girl.

The next morning we went back to the airport to take a flight home. Samson
seemed to be in a much better mood.


-- Two more promotions, and then a departure --

That Feldermeier became a much bigger customer after our trip was obviously
very well received by the company leadership, and Samson and I shared in
the kudos. It turned out to be the first of a several nice wins we had
together. We worked well as a team. Samson was starting to blossom and he
had started to mentor a few of the new hires himself.

After a year or so, I was invited to a meeting with one of the senior
leaders of the company. He started off by saying how happy he was with my
performance, and how he would like to offer me a promotion. It was going to
be a much bigger role, but also I would be working in a different
department, and I would no longer work with my current team. I asked who my
successor was going to be.  "Well, we have some ideas but do you have a
recommendation?"  "How about Samson?"  "He's one of the people I was
thinking of, but isn't he too young... Uh I mean a little too new on the
team for this?"  "I don't think so. Samson is the most qualified and he has
proven himself invaluable this past year."  "I'm willing to give it a
chance, but only if you commit to continue as Samson's mentor. This would
be a big step up for him, and I need whoever is in that job to be
successful."

This couldn't get much better. Both Samson and I were getting promotions,
and I still got to work with Samson albeit less intensely. Samson did great
in his new role, and our mentoring sessions evolved gradually into more
career coaching, and even sometimes life coaching. One recurring topic for
example that Samson had started to bring up were tattoos. He really wanted
some, and wanted my inputs on which ones to get. I'm not really into
tattoos and don't have any myself, so I carefully stressed that it was
important he has them on discrete parts of his body, given how conservative
our office and industry can be. But once I saw how enthusiastic he was
about them and how important the symbolism and meaning can be, I
relented. Also the agency they stand for seemed to really be important for
Samson. When he showed off the several beautiful tattoos he got, they
really did look good on him.

Unfortunately after another year or so there was a change in Samson's
department, resulting in him getting a new boss with a rather different
management philosophy. He started to micro-manage the team and seemed to
have it out for Samson specifically. Samson was getting frustrated, and
discussed with me that he was considering leaving the company. I tried to
find him another role in another team, but his new boss had started to
sabotage that. It was sad to see, but leaving was probably Samson's best
option. With his resume and stellar career trajectory, he found a new job
somewhere else in no time. On his last day, he gave me a long intense hug.


-- Uh oh. --

Samson and I called a few times to catch up the months after he left. But
to be honest, we gradually lost touch. I thought about him from time to
time, but we didn't connect anymore. Then one evening, after not having
talked for over a year, Samson texted me.  "Hey, can we talk?"  I called
him almost immediately. He did not pick up, but sent another text.  "I mean
in person, not over the phone. Can you make it today?"  We agreed on a time
and place, and we picked local dive pub. I was a little shocked when I saw
him. He had lost a lot of weight.  "How are you, Samson?"  "Not that great,
to be honest. That's why I wanted to talk. I lost the job I had, and my
girlfriend broke up with me. She kicked me out. I really need a place to
crash. Could I please stay with you for a little while?"  Of course he
could. I wasn't going to press him now on how his life went so off the
rails, right now he most of all needed a friend. It turned out everything
he owned was in his car. When we got to my place, he asked: "How long could
I stay here?"  "As long as you want, Samson. Mi casa es su casa."  At that
point he started to cry. I hugged him. This was not the Samson I
remembered, this was a broken Samson. After a shower and some food he
crashed on the couch. He was obviously exhausted.

He was still asleep when I left for work the next morning, but I was
determined to figure out what happened that evening. When I got back home,
he was in the kitchen preparing food. He wanted to surprise me by preparing
dinner. It was apparently a traditional filipino dish his grandmother
thought him to cook, and it was scrumptious. While we were eating, he
explained some of what happened. The drug use he had referred to that one
night at the sales conference, now a couple of years ago, had gradually
gotten out of control. He lost his job a fews months ago. He obviously
needed a lot of money to sustain his drug use. He started to sell his -
still gorgeous - body for money, he became a prostitute. His clientele were
almost exclusively men, as they were much easier to find then women. He
first lied about it to his girlfriend, but she found out and did not want
anything to do with him. And now he was at a dead end. His story broke my
heart, and I grabbed his hand.  "When was the last time you used?"  "A
couple of days ago, less than a week."  "Would you be willing to consider
rehab?"  "Yeah, I need help."  "Ok. I will find you a rehab center and make
sure you get in."  "These centers can be expensive, I lost my insurance."
"Don't worry about it."  "I don't know how to thank you, man."  "I do. Make
sure you become clean, and pick your life back up."

After dinner we watched a little bit of TV, and then it was time for bed. I
headed to my room, he still crashed on the couch. But a few minutes after I
turned off my lights, Samson gently knocked on my door.  "Can I come in?"
"Sure."  Without saying anything, he entered the room. In the limited light
that there was, I could see he was completely naked.  "Could I sleep here,
with you? The couch is not the most comfortable."  "Sure, no problem. Hop
in."  As he got into bed, he started to snuggle against me, his dick
pressing against my butt. His smell was the same musk that got to me during
that evening in the bar at the business conference. I've been somewhat in
denial about it but now had to admit to myself, I've longed for this for so
many months. My heart was racing. Samson's hands started to caress me, and
gradually wandered to my cock. He started stroking me.  "Samson?"  "Hmm."
"You have no idea how much I want this..."  "I actually do know. I'm not as
naive as you think I am. Or perhaps not anymore."  "... but I really need
you to want this too. Do you? Do you really?"  "I am still straight, more
or less. But sex is also a language, a way of expressing love. And I do
love you, more than anyone. You've been my most loyal friend."  And then he
kissed me. Gently first, almost hesitantly. But quickly growing into a
passionate kiss. His mouth then started to wander down my body, and when he
licked the top of my dick with his tongue I saw stars. The blowjob that
followed was unforgettable, and I returned the favor of course. The taste
of his cock was exquisite, similar to the smell of his musk.  Samson
flipped me on my back, and he straddled me. He positioned himself, and
gradually lowered himself on my hard cock.  Even though I have a large 9"
dick, it slipped in easy. I felt a sudden pang of jealousy, realizing that
probably many men had fucked Samson, my Samson, the past few months. I
anxiously wondered what kind of guy took his virginity. I quickly chased
the thought away.  Samson knew what he was doing, putting his ass muscles
to work.  "I want you to cum inside me."  I felt he was getting close
himself, and when I came he almost immediately came too, splattering five
or six volleys of his cum on me, two of which hit my face. His semen tasted
great, and then he bended over, licked some of it off me and gave me a
sloppy wet kiss, providing me more of his cum.  We cuddled a little after
that, but fell asleep quickly.

The next morning I called the office to take a few days off, and Samson and
I went looking for a rehab center for him to go to. We found a nice one
that would take him on a sixty day program.

While he was in the program, I went and visited him every weekend. And of
course I was there when he was released. I had butterflies in my stomach, I
even brought flowers for him. After he got out those flowers ended up in a
vase on my kitchen table as he continued to crash at my place. We had
incredible sex many more times in the weeks that followed. It was heavenly,
and I had started to fantasize about a life with Samson. I was falling in
love, daydreaming about a future together with him.

If this was a fairytale, that is probably what would have happened. But
that is not how this story goes. Samson is "still straight, more or less"
and as he got back on his feet financially with a new job, he eventually
moved out. We're still close friends, but he has a new girlfriend now. We
hang out sometimes, and she seems good to him, keeping him on the straight
and narrow. I am happy for Samson, but I am also a little heartbroken.


***

Comments are more than welcome. This my first contribution to Nifty, and I would love to learn what you think of my work. My email is andrew.r.gabriel@gmail.com