Date: Sun, 26 May 2013 05:15:43 -0700 (PDT)
From: joel_m1971@yahoo.com
Subject: Bathhouse to hotel to home part 3

Weeks went by and I didn't see Alex again. I came back to the city every
week for two or three days, lurked at the cafe, walked around the
neighborhood, and even went back to the bathhouse twice to look for him. He
was nowhere. I gave up almost all hope when one Saturday, I received a call
on my cell phone.

"Hi, it's Alex," he said. It was quiet for a second or two. "Do you
remember..."

"Yes, yes I know," I said quickly. "How did you get my number?"

"I took it off your phone that morning before I left," he said, sounding a
bit guilty. "So, I'm in town today and wondered if I could see you. I'm,
uh, right outside your building."

I looked out my window and saw him standing on the sidewalk. He was wearing
a suit and an open collar shirt. He was tanner than when we met and still
handsome. My heart stopped, but I felt a little angry at him.

"I don't know, it's early in the morning," I said.

"I just want to talk," he said. "Please?"

I heard sincerity in his voice and buzzed him up to my apartment. When he
walked in, I smelled his cologne and he seemed to fill up my apartment with
his presence. I asked him to sit and poured him coffee. He explained to me
that I was the last man he slept with before ending his marriage. He said
after being with me, he finally knew what he wanted, but he needed time to
work things out in his life. He came out to his parents and close friends,
many of whom said they already knew he was gay. We talked about our lives
for the most of the afternoon while I made lunch for us. I kept him at
arm's length for most of it.

"And that's why I want to be with you," he said finally. I loved hearing
him say it, but was also scared. I told him I had a job I liked and my own
place and was very comfortable. Besides, we lived in two different cities.

"I'm moving here," he told me. "That's why I'm in town, my company
transferred me here, I start in two weeks. Look, I'm not asking to move in,
we can try dating. I want to know you, know what you like. I want to get
know you and see if there's an us."

He inched closer to me in the sofa. It was getting dark outside. We had
switched from coffee to wine and my inhibitions were falling the more he
spoke. He leaned over and lightly kissed me. I closed my eyes and licked my
lips when he was done. He had an overpowering effect on me. Soon, I was in
his lap, facing him, kissing as he pulled my shirt off. I wanted to be
angry at him still, but I couldn't deny him. Within the next hour, we were
in my bed, stripped to our underwear, kissing frantically under my satin
sheets. The night coming through the curtains. He teased my nipples and
neck, stroked me gently, and kneaded my bottom with both hands.

Soon, I was lying on my back with him peeling off my briefs and lubing
me. I felt both safe and helpless in his hands, his hard cock pointing at
me. His face was serious, staring at me as he lubed and fingered me. My
cock was hard and I wiggled to his touch, grinding into his hands. He
opened a condom and slipped it on himself. I wanted to touch him. He pushed
into me quickly, taking my breath away. I loved finally seeing his face
when he was in me, moaning and pushing. He stroked quickly, then furiously
and came hard in me. He landed on top me after he pulled out, kissing my
neck as I stoked his hair and shoulders, shushing him to sleep.

He stayed the weekend and we acted like a couple, going ourtto dinner,
going dancing at a club, seeing a movie, and having a lot of sex: in the
the shower, in my bed, on my sofa, and on my floor. After three weeks, he
settled into his own place. Then one night he came over with a bottle of
wine and a package. We drank, lit some candles, and talked about our work
day. I out on some music. He rubbed my shoulders and then leaned into me
and asked me to wear what he brought me.

I took the box and went to the bathroom. I smiled and sighed, looking into
the box. I'd worn outfits before for some guys, and this was mildly tame in
comparison. The guys before were usually married, so this was puzzling. But
I saw what he wanted from me. I put on the white silky camisole, panties,
garter, and white stockings. I was not remotely passable, but I figured he
knew that. They fit my body and I had just manscaped, so I looked smooth
all over. I walked out and the lights were all off. He laid on the bed
naked, waiting for me. He smiled when he saw me and said he wanted me all
to himself. I leaned over the bed to kiss him and landed on top of him. We
kissed and hugged, groping each other. His hands were all over me, rubbing
me. I could see he was very aroused with my me and my outfit. I played the
part and became puffy in his hands.

Between the wine and the silk, I became really hard and almost weepy. I
begged him to take me bare. It had been three weeks of sleeping with him
and I had been alone since our first meeting in the bathhouse. Soon, he
allowed me to lube his hard cock. I stroked and kissed him, keeping my
outfit on for him. He was magnificent in my hands, I could have stroked him
all night. He was harder than ever before and the grunted, "Get on your
hands and knees." I did and he peeled down my panties to my knees, then
pushed into me slowly. He was electrified, rubbing my hips and back,
leaning over to kiss my back.

"Oh baby, I'm home," he said. "He wasn't very verbal usually, but tonight
was different. "Be my baby.... I only want you now.... I love fucking you."
His words made me even harder and soon we were grinding together, both
moaning. He pulled out, pulled off my panties, and threw my legs over his
shoulders, and continued fucking me. The panties were in his hands and he
rubbed them next to my face, feeling them as he kissed me and continued to
pump into me.

"Are you mine?" he asked. "Say it!"

"I'm yours, baby. I'm yours," I sobbed to him, feeling my orgasm come
bubbling up inside me as I gripped him.

He exploded in me and filled me up with him. I had never wanted any man
this way, to feel him totally in me. I realized the fancy wine and white
lingerie seemed like a bridal outfit and our hands gripped together as he
came was a union, of sorts. He kept me in the lingerie that night, stroking
me gently and loving me. I held him and kissed him softly back. I loved
having him and only him. He was home.