Date: Sun, 8 Dec 2019 18:03:45 -0500 From: Paul Just Subject: Story of Bob This is the story of "Bob", my first significant M2M experience. Disclaimer: The following is a true story. I present it "as-is", in order to share my experience, but though nobody was hurt, it does not condone what transpired. I still reflect fondly upon those days, but, for the record, would never myself do as Bob did. One summer day, in the early 70's, I was hitchhiking along Sherbrooke Street, just down from the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts. Ironically, this story begins as I was making my way home from a somewhat religious visit at the "group home" where a priest friend and high school teacher of mine had a room. For the record, nothing of a sexual nature ever happened between him and me. It was a purely platonic mentor-student relationship (though I sometimes wondered...). But this story isn't about him, it's about Bob. Bob pulled up, to my relief (it was hot and sunny, and I was grateful to get off of the sidewalk), and I got in. I forget how old we both were - I've started another 'project' of piecing together bits and pieces of my fragmented and sometimes parallel lives - but I'd say I was something like 16 or 17. He could have been... I'm really foggy on this right now... anywhere between 40 and 50. As we drove, we engaged in some small talk, and he told me he was visiting from out of town (kind of true, he lived just North of Montreal, as I'd find out later). We talked about the heat, and he suggested we get out of it, perhaps in a cool movie theater. Part of me knew what must be going on, here, and part of me though it could be just some lonely guy in need of some company; I've always had a soft spot for people in need. Ultimately, the the reckless, horny teen part of me decided to go for it. I remember the theater, and have been desperately trying to remember the movie (especially because it would help nail down a time-frame), but we didn't see the end, nor, hardly, did we notice the beginning. As we sat there, in the dark theater, he started with very subtle advances: first his arm got closer to mine, on the armrest, then touched, then his hand touched mine, then my leg, and then it made its way to my crotch. He rubbed my now stiff cock from the outside of my jeans. I forget if he slipped his hand, or a finger, down the top, or if he unzipped me and slipped in, but I think by now he knew I was receptive, but didn't want to risk getting caught messing around with this kid in a public place... He whispered to me that he had a friend whose apartment we could use, because he was away... In a brief moment of caution, I said "no, I don't think I should"... "I'll give you $5", he said. FIVE DOLLARS! Even in the early 70's, that was nothing, and besides, I wasn't a common whore! Nevertheless, this gave me something to accept, a reason to go, so I said OK. When we got to the apartment, he rang, just in case, and didn't his friend open the door! We went in, and there were introductions. There I was, a kid in a strange apartment with two grown strangers. It could have turned out very badly for me, and we'd talked about it since. Bob said, thinking back, that he thought I'd bolt there and then, but I didn't (damn, I was so reckless). As it turned out, both men were very good guys, and I became friends with both. The other guy - Jack - was just a "friend of Bob's" to me, though Bob and I would later often use his apartment, and we'd also meet him here and there. It was a complete surprise when I learned, years later, that he had moved - by complete coincidence - into the apartment building next to mine! He was living, I think, with another, younger guy, and it was only then that there was the thinly veiled suggestion that I could, um, come visit any time... But, that never happened, and that's about all I have to say right now about Jack. Back to Bob. After some small talk, and surely some non-verbal communication which I missed, Jack said he had to go out, and would be back in a few hours. Bob and I sat on the couch, and engaged in a bit more small talk, and he started asking me a bit about myself, attitudes, my sexual thoughts and fantasies... I forget exactly how the exchange went, but I've always been an extremely horny guy, with lots more fantasies than experience, and I shared some. Bob suggested I lie down on the couch, make myself comfortable; he might have helped guide me, I don't' remember. He started rubbing me, stroking me, gently, all over, with my clothes on. Then, he undid my jeans (they had a buttoned fly), and slid them down, halfway to my knees. I now had a raging hard-on (actually, I don't think it ever subsided from the theater!), and it strained to escape from my purple (hey, it was the '70s) briefs. He ran his hand up my belly and chest, under my shirt, and down over my briefs to my legs, and so on. Finally, he pulled down my briefs, and my cock sprang out, and waved hello! He spent a long time holding, fondling, and admiring my "manhood" (at 16 or 17, I hadn't grown to my adult size). Then he started giving it kisses, licks, and mouthing, with the occasional look up to me, to see how I was doing. When my penis finally slipped all the way into his mouth, I thought I would explode there and then! But he was good at what he did, and I managed to keep my composure. After a while, he had me completely naked on the couch, and he suggested we go to the bedroom, where it was more comfortable. There, in the dimness of the room, he stripped, too, and lay next to me. I stroked his body and played with his prick and balls a bit, but he was anxious to get back to work on me, which he did, eventually bringing me to a very powerful and messy climax, the proceeds of which he hungrily devoured. Actually, he had trouble taking it all, but what escaped back onto my crotch, legs, and belly, he licked up like the last delicious drops of ice cream in a bowl. He then went to the bathroom, leaving me there, and came back with a hot, wet cloth, and towel, and proceeded to clean me up. This was how we'd almost always end a sexual session afterwards, and I enjoyed it very much. I think of it now, every time I do the same for myself and, when it works, with guys I'm with. Bob and I continued to meet, over the following weeks, which turned to months, and years, until he moved to Ontario. The Bob story ends with him passing away (prematurely), of natural causes (no, not AIDS), in Ontario. I unfortunately could not be there with him in his final days, which I've always regretted, but it could not have been otherwise, as I was married by then. Bob may have gone, but he'll live on in the many ways in which he has influenced my life! So, there you have it, my first significant M2M experience. There are other experiences, some with young friends of mine, and a couple of really creepy ones, but it's best not to dwell upon those... This one's all about Bob!