Date: Sat, 17 Jan 2015 03:09:13 +0000 (UTC)
From: hankster1430@comcast.net
Subject: The Garage Sale

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			      The Garage Sale


				    One


Wesley Parsons met Brad Somers in a gay bar, on the night he received word
that he had passed the bar exam.  Wes was celebrating alone.  He had no
close friends.  The only family he had was a sister, who lived half way
around the world.  She had met, and married, an Aussie while back-packing
in Europe three years prior, and she was now living with him in Sydney.

Wes was talking to the bartender, when he heard a sexy voice ask him if he
could buy him a drink.  He turned to see a very handsome, well-preserved
gentleman, smiling at him.  Brad was fifteen years older than Wes, but he
worked out regularly and had a killer body.  Fortunately, he had all his
hair, which he dyed a beautiful chestnut color.  Wes was to find that out
later.

Wes liked the handsome face, and the beautiful body that he saw.  "Sure you
can," he answered the suave looking man.  Brad ordered another drink for
Wes, and one for himself.  There were no more seats at the bar, so Brad
asked Wes to join him outside on the bar's patio.  It was a rather nippy
mid-autumn evening, and there were plenty of available tables out there.

Their conversation started off innocently enough.  Wes let Brad know that
he had just passed the bar exam, and was celebrating tonight.  Brad told
Wes that he was happy to be a part of his celebration.  "I'm glad I'm able
to be here," he said.  "I'm a manufacturer's rep, and spend more time on
the road than at home."  He smiled at the happy young man.  "I'll be home
for the next two weeks," he informed Wes, with a wink.

"Where's home?" Wes asked hopefully.

"I'm originally from out west.  I'm used to wide open spaces.  Living in
Manhattan just didn't feel right to me, so I own my own home, complete with
lawn and garden, in Valley Stream, out on The Island."

"Wow, lucky you.  I have a studio apartment a couple of blocks from here.
I hope to own something of my own someday, when my career takes off, but I
was thinking more like a condo in a high rise."

"That's fine for most people, but I need to have a fix of the green stuff,
and I'm not talking about money."

"I've heard about addiction, but I never met anyone who was addicted to
grass and trees," Wes laughed.

Then Brad got right to it.  "You're really hot," he told Wes.  "I wouldn't
mind seeing that studio apartment of yours in the very near future."

"Would right now be too soon?  I really do want to celebrate in style
tonight.  A day like today only happens to a guy once in a lifetime."

"And I told you I'd like to be part of your celebration.  Why don't we
finish our drinks, and get better acquainted at your place?"

Wes's studio apartment was small, miniscule in fact, but it was affordable.
It had a small kitchen area, a table and two chairs, a sleep sofa, and a
lounge chair which faced a television set.  The minute he showed Brad in,
the two men fell into each other's arms.  Their kisses were immediate and
passionate.  Wes had to pull himself away to open the sleep sofa.  While he
did that, Brad stripped naked.  Seconds later, they continued kissing in
bed, but now they were fondling their hard cocks as well.

As quickly as they undressed, they had time to check each other out, at
least in their aroused states.  They were both cut.  Wes was about eight,
fat inches.  Brad fell short at about seven, slightly thinner, inches.
They both decided that the other's cock felt simply wonderful rolling
around in their palms.

Brad used Brut after shaving, and he couldn't help notice that Wes did
also.  He recognized the scent.  They both appreciated how good the other
smelled.

"Now," Wes murmured, and they twisted into a sixty-nine position.

Brad was intoxicated by Wes's scented prick, and Wes could still smell
Brad's morning shower.  He was convinced that Brad smelled better than any
trick he had ever been with.  Minutes later, he decided that Brad also
tasted better than any of the others before him.  They both felt orgasms
coming on, and wanted to stop so they could fuck, but they were too far
gone.  They continued to suck each other's cocks, and both emptied into the
other's mouth just seconds apart.  It didn't matter that they came faster
than either of them would have liked.  They had plenty of time to use their
bodies for everything they could conceivably think to do.  Less than a
month later Wes moved into Brad's home.  They lived together for ten years
in a happy, apparently monogamous relationship.  Then one day, when Brad
was about to celebrate his fiftieth birthday, and Wes was thirty-five, Wes
dropped a bombshell.

"I'm leaving you," he said.  "I've met a new associate at work, and we're
moving in together in the city."  He said it so matter-of-factly, without
any emotion, that Brad knew there was to be no arguing.  His only comment
was that in all the months he spent on the road, he had been completely
faithful, and now he was sorry about that.

Two months later, Brad could not tolerate living alone in this big house.
He had lost any motivation to commute daily to the manufacturers he
represented in New York City.  In fact he had no desire to do anything,
except to hang around the house feeling sorry for himself.  He even let his
hair go to its natural color.  Finally he realized that it was time to get
hold of himself, and plan for his future.  He decided to sell the house,
and move to the city.  At least, there was some action there.  He reckoned
that at fifty, his life was far from over, and he should enjoy what was
left.

				    Two

Less than a mile away, a closeted gay man lived with his mother.  Carl
Green's mother was slowly dying of brain cancer.  Carl provided a nurse for
her during the day, when he was at work, but he took care of her himself at
other times.  He never went out, and spent all his evenings and weekends
caring for her.

On the very day when Brad Somers decided to move to the city, May Green
passed away.  On the evening of the funeral, Carl also made a decision.  He
would sell the house, and buy a condo in Manhattan.  He was forty-two, and
he worked in New York City.  He determined to come out, and pursue a life
he had squelched for his mother's sake.  He believed that he was still
young enough, and handsome enough, to hook up with someone in The Big
Apple.

Months before she died, and while she was still lucid, Carl's mother had
transferred the deed to the house to him.  He put it on the market about a
month after her death.  At the same time he started to search Manhattan
real estate for a condo or a co-op to buy.  He had always lived in the
house in Valley Stream, and could not fathom being a renter.  He found a
spacious, one bedroom condo apartment in an older high rise in Chelsea, and
he bought it.

The first thing he did was to try to figure out what furniture he could
take with him to the new apartment.  The furniture in his house was all
older than he was.  It didn't take him long to conclude that he wanted to
buy all new furniture to go with his all new apartment.  In fact, he
decided that the house would show better empty, than with the shabby old
furniture in it.

He bought all new furniture for the apartment in the city, and moved in.
The only things he took with him, were some kitchen and bathroom stuff, and
his personal belongings.  He donated all the furniture in the old house to
charity, and had the interior of the empty house painted white.

When he was settled into his new apartment, he decided that all it needed
now, to make it warm and cozy, were accessories and some wall-hangings.  He
decided to go shopping that weekend.  He had lived in Valley Stream all his
life and was familiar with all the retailers.  He took Friday off, and in
the morning, he drove back to Valley Stream to buy what he needed.  Before
going shopping, he checked out the house to make sure it looked good for
potential buyers, and to assure himself that he had left nothing behind
that he might want.

On his way to one of the malls, he passed a house having a garage sale.  He
himself had no patience for anything like that, which is why he donated
everything to charity.  A sign on the lawn read "Moving Sale."  Carl hated
flea markets, tag and garage sales, or anything like them.  He never knew
why he decided to stop and check it out, but he did, hoping to find some
nice accessories at a good price.  He got out of his car, and stepped into
his destiny.

He browsed among the various tables, and could not believe how many
beautiful little knick-knacks he saw.  He wondered why the owners of the
house would want to part with them.  The man of the house was talking to a
customer, and placing a purchase in a plastic bag.  Carl found himself
staring at the man, and thinking how handsome he was.  He was older than
Carl, but not by much.  His hair was thick, and silvery-white.  When the
owner concluded his sale, he walked over to Carl.

"Hi," he said.  "Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"Hi," Carl returned the greeting.  "I live a couple of blocks from here.
I'm selling my house also, and I just moved into a condo in Manhattan.  I
need accessories and some art work to finish off my decorating."

"That's a coincidence," the owner said.  "I'm moving to the city also, but
I haven't found a place yet.  Where did you end up?"

"In Chelsea.  The building is a little long in the tooth, but they built it
sturdily enough, and it's in good shape."

"Chelsea is good.  I was thinking of looking there too.  It's close to The
Village without being right in it."

Carl wondered why the man thought it was important to mention Greenwich
Village.  Was he letting him know that he was gay?

"Actually, it's in the heart of everything," Carl said.

The owner held out his hand.  "Let me introduce myself," he said.  "My name
is Brad Somers.  As soon as I find an apartment, I'm putting this house on
the market and I'm out of here."

"Nice to meet you.  I'm Carl Green," Carl said shaking Brad's hand.  "How
long have you lived here, Brad?" Carl asked.

"Ever since I moved from Idaho, about twenty-five years ago."

"That's a long time.  Why move now after all these years?"

Carl may have been in the closet, but Brad was out, and he didn't care who
knew it.  "Because my partner of ten years walked out on me, and I don't
want to live here alone anymore," he answered.

"I'm leaving because I have lived here all my life, and it's time to make
changes and move on.  I've been my mother's caregiver for two long years,
but she died recently."

"I'm sorry," Brad said.  "Hey, Carl, I was planning on starting my search
for an apartment tomorrow.  One of my neighbors is going to cover for me at
this garage sale.  Would it be an imposition to meet me in the city, and
help me out some?  I don't even have a real estate agent yet".

"It would be a pleasure.  I'll give you my address and phone number.  Why
don't you come over to my place, and I'll make us breakfast."

"That sounds great.  Thanks Carl."

"Now let's see what you have that I can decorate my apartment with."

"I have plenty of accessories, but no art work," Brad answered.  "I intend
to take my wall-hangings with me when I move."

				   Three

Brad arrived at 9 AM the next morning.  By that time, the knick-knacks Carl
had purchased from him the day before, were prominently displayed.  When
Carl opened the door, he held out his hand for Brad to shake, but Brad
surprised him by giving him a manly hug.  Carl may have been surprised, but
it sure felt good.  He wondered if he would have the nerve to tell Brad
that he was gay and a virgin, and that he would really love to have sex
with him.

Carl vastly underestimated Brad, and his amazing gaydar.  Brad knew that
Carl was gay the minute he walked into his garage sale.  He determined to
seduce Carl that very day.

"Something smells good," Brad remarked.

"Yes, that's probably the bacon.  I'm making us French toast with bacon.
Do you want regular syrup or lite?"

"Regular, please."

`Regular coffee or decaf?"

"Regular again."

"I made an appointment for us with my real estate agent at 11 AM.  Is that
OK with you?"

"Very OK."  Brad noticed that Carl said `us.'  He intended to go house
hunting with him, and somehow he was very pleased.  It was a very good
sign, for his seduction plans.

It was over breakfast that Carl worked up his nerve.  He confronted Brad
point blank, "When you said your partner left you, I assumed your partner
was a man.  Please correct me if I was wrong."

"Nothing to correct.  I'm gay.  You're gay also. Am I correct?"

"I don't know.  I'm a forty-two year old virgin.  If I am gay, I've been in
the closet my whole life.  When my mother died, I made up my mind to
explore my sexuality, and find out for sure.  Are you shocked?"

"Yes, I'm more than shocked that you're a virgin, but I knew you were gay
from the moment we met."

"How?"

"Gaydar, man, gaydar.  Now for the important question.  Would you like to
do your sexual exploring with me?"

Carl was speechless.  All he could do was nod.

"Good," Brad smiled.  "We'll come back here after our appointment.  I can't
wait to introduce you to paradise."

"I've waited this long.  I suppose I can wait a little longer."

They met Larry Stahl at his office promptly at 11 AM.  Carl introduced Brad
to the realtor.  Larry asked Brad if he had any idea what he was looking
for, and Brad was very specific.

"I prefer a condo to a co-op, but a co-op is not a deal breaker.  I must
have two bedrooms.  I need to have a home office for my work, so I need the
extra room.  I could put a sleep sofa, either in the office or the living
room, should I have a sleepover guest."  He wanted to say that would hardly
ever happen, because his guest would probably sleep with him, but he sensed
that Larry was straight, and he kept quiet.

"Perfect," Larry said.  "I have several properties you can look at.  One of
them is in Carl's building, if you have no objection."

"Absolutely not, but let's save that one for last.  If I like it, it's the
one I would most likely put an offer on."  He smiled at Carl, who actually
blushed.

That's exactly what happened.  Brad saw several beautiful apartments in
Chelsea, but when he saw the one in Brad's building, it was perfect in
every way.  It was a corner apartment on the top floor.  It had spectacular
views of the city from two directions, and had the two bedrooms Brad
required.  He asked Larry to put in an offer at $10,000 below the offering
price, and, of course, he and the seller settled in the middle.

When all the paper work was concluded, it was 5 PM.  "Let me take you out
for cocktails and dinner," Brad said to Carl.  "I owe you for all your
help.  I know the perfect place in The Village, not too far from here.
It's called Gene's."

"I'll accept gladly," Carl said, "if you promise to educate me after
dinner, as you promised.  In fact, since tomorrow is Sunday, it would be
great if you stayed over."  Brad gave Carl a broad, heart-warming smile.

As anxious as they both were to explore each other's bodies (Carl even more
so than Brad), they didn't rush dinner.  They savored every mouthful of the
gourmet dishes they ordered.

Finally they entered Carl's apartment for what was to be the most exciting
night of their lives.  Carl was finally going to experience the joys of the
flesh, and Brad was going to instruct his novice to do all the things that
turned him into a fucking sex machine.

"Let's undress and take a shower together," Brad suggested as they entered
the bedroom.  Carl just nodded, and both men undressed quickly.  Carl was
mesmerized by Brad's seven inch, cut member, and Brad was in awe of Carl's
uncut eight incher.  They ran into the bathroom.  Carl turned on the taps
in the stall shower, and when both of them were satisfied with the
temperature of the flowing water, they stepped in, hand in hand.

Brad took the bar soap from the rack, and pulled Carl to him.  He began to
soap Carl's chest, and moved ever so slowly down to soap his pubic area.
Satisfied with that, he turned the novice around and grabbed his cock from
behind.  Brad had never felt a cock so hard.  He began to soap it gently,
and Carl's body collapsed against his, as his balls began to harden and
shrink.

Brad stopped stroking, leaving Carl with a severe case of blue balls.  He
handed the soap to the weakened Carl.  "Soap me up now," he instructed.
Carl repeated the process.  He took a long time before he began to soap
Brad's cock.  It was the first time he had ever held another man's dick in
his hands, and he was both nervous and excited.  He began to moan and
stroke simultaneously.

Suddenly Brad turned around, and then he turned Carl.  Now Brad's cock was
probing at Carl's ass.  Carl got scared, but Brad kept telling him to
relax.  Brad's cock was steadily rubbing up and down Carl's crack.

"Please," Carl begged, "let's get into bed.  I don't think my legs will
support me much longer."

They rinsed the soap off their bodies and left the shower.  Brad dried
Carl's entire body, and Carl returned the favor.  Carl headed for his bed,
but Brad stopped him.  He enveloped Carl in his strong arms and placed his
lips gently on Carl's.  The neophyte had not thought about kissing another
man, and he suddenly recoiled, but Brad was persistent.  He pulled Carl
back, and began to kiss him again.  This time he parted his lips, and Carl
took the cue.

Seconds later Carl was a full participant in the passionate kisses the men
were exchanging.  "Now," Brad whispered, "we can get into bed."

They continued kissing sensuously in bed.  Their bodies were entwined, and
each fondled the other's cock.  After a while Brad said, "Now I'm going to
teach you how to suck a man's cock."  Carl began to shake again.

"Please relax," Brad whispered.  "I won't let anything hurt you."  He bent
over Carl, and took Carl's balls in his hand.  He rolled them gently around
in his palm.  Then he swiped his tongue over Carl's crown and sopped up all
the pre-cum gathered there.  When he had eaten all the pre-cum, he ran his
tongue up and down the underside of Carl's throbbing dick.  Then he sat up.

"Did you notice that my tongue did all the work?  When I take your cock in
my mouth, my tongue will do all the work, but my lips will pump gently on
the outside of your rod.  I will try to cover my teeth with my lips, so
that they don't scratch you.  Let me demonstrate."

With that he bent over and devoured Carl's cock.  Brad's tongue bathed the
rod all over, as his lips pumped sensuously on the outside.  He kept
rolling Carl's balls in his palm, and was encouraged by Carl's constant
moaning.  Suddenly the moaning turned to groaning.  Brad knew that he
couldn't stop.  This was it.  With one great wail, Carl ejaculated into
Brad's eager mouth.

It took Carl a few minutes to calm down.  When he did, he said in
wonderment, "You swallowed all of it."

"Yes, and when the time comes, you'll swallow all of mine."

"Give me another couple of minutes."

"Sure.  There's no rush."  Brad closed his eyes, and settled back, waiting
for Carl to be ready.  Sooner than he would have expected, he felt Carl's
tongue running up and down his shaft, and then, with no hesitation, his
cock was inside Carl's mouth.  He was proud of what he had taught Carl.
There was no hint of teeth, as Carl's tongue brought Brad to a screaming
conclusion.  Carl did indeed swallow all of it.

"How does it feel not to be a virgin anymore?" Brad asked with a chuckle.

"I'll continue to feel like a virgin until you fuck me, and I fuck you,"
Carl said in all sincerity.

"Well, we'll remedy that little snag later.  Let's try to take a little
snooze now."  Once again he enveloped Carl in his strong arms.  Carl felt
as if Brad had woven a cocoon around him.  He fell asleep and slept until
dawn.  He slept the whole time in Brad's arms.

In the morning, they rose and showered.  Carl gave Brad a new toothbrush,
and lent him fresh underwear, but he wore the slacks and shirt he had worn
the day before.  They went out for the best meal ever created...Sunday
brunch in New York City.  Then it was home to continue Carl's education,
and his initiation into the mysterious world of male to male sex.

On the way home they stopped at a drug store and bought an ample supply of
condoms and KY Jelly.  As soon as they entered Carl's apartment, they got
naked and spent a half hour kissing passionately and fondling themselves.

Finally Brad said, "Fuck me first, and then I'll get you ready."

"That's too easy," Carl complained.  "Fuck me first, so I can experience
the pleasure I'll be giving you."

Brad smiled.  "There's no arguing that kind of logic.  OK.  Lie down on
your back, and put a pillow under your butt.  Then raise your knees to your
chest."  Carl obeyed instructions, but he grew apprehensive and closed his
eyes.  He opened them wide when he felt something cold bathing his asshole,
and even invading it.  Brad was spreading KY Jelly into his crack.  Carl
could see that Brad's cock was sheathed, greased, and ready for action.
Brad pulled Carl to the edge of the bed and lined his cock up with Carl's
gushy ass hole.

Brad was amazed at how easily he slipped in all the way.  "Are you sure you
haven't done this before?" he asked.

"I swear this is the first time."

"Here goes then," Brad warned Carl.  He began to pump hard and steady.  He
figured that if he was too rough, Carl would let him know.  But Carl was
just moaning, and whispering how good he felt.  Brad could only conclude
that Carl was born to be a bottom, which was OK with him.  He anticipated
that this was only the first time between them.  Brad felt his climax
approaching.

"I'm cumming," he groaned.  Out of pure instinct, Carl began to pump his
ass muscles.  That drove Brad crazy, and right over the top.  He came with
such force that the condom broke, and Carl could feel Brad's jism coating
his innards.

"The condom broke," he informed Carl.

"I know.  I could feel your stuff emptying inside of me, and I don't give a
damn.  Just stay in me as long as possible."

"I'll try," Brad murmured, but nature dictated otherwise.  He softened and
fell out, but he stayed lying on top of Carl, and kissing him, for a very
long time.  When Carl began to cry, Brad got up.

"What's up, baby?  Why are you crying?"

"I'm crying because I'm so happy, and because I have wasted so many years
denying myself such pleasure."

Brad wiped the tears from Carl's eyes.  "Fuck me now, Baby, and the basic
lesson will be complete."

Before the year was up, both of their houses were sold, and Brad was living
in Carl's building.  If this was a fairy tale, they would certainly commit
to each other, and live happily ever after.  But that was not in the cards
for either of them.

After his first sexual encounter with a man, Carl just had to sow his wild
oats, and make up for all he had missed.  He cruised every gay bar in
Greenwich Village, and he had no trouble scoring regularly.  Brad, on the
other hand, wished to find a new partner and settle down.  Unfortunately,
he had fallen in love with Carl, and couldn't get anything going with other
men.  Notwithstanding this set of complications, Brad and Carl remained
good friends.  They often went out to dinner and the theater together, but
did not have sex again.  Carl was too busy playing the field, and Brad was
content to stay home and use his fist.

Brad knew that Carl was like a sixteen year old boy, discovering sex for
the first time.  He prayed every day that when Carl was ready to pull back
and settle down, it would be with him.  There was no guarantee, of course,
but he just had to be patient and trust in providence.