Date: Tue, 25 Feb 2003 18:52:17 -0800
From: Mike H <frankpdx@hotmail.com>
Subject: Reflections on Things Past, Part 2

       The following story is true.  Some of the names have been changed for
privacy.  I have a few more tales to tell and hope you enjoy this chapter.

       THE BAR YEARS

       I had heard about a gay bar called The Family Zoo from some attorneys
from Arizona who were working on a case with me.  The bar was near the hotel
where they were staying and they had wandered in to it by accident one
evening.  They were full of stories the next day and I had tucked this bit
of information in the back of my mind for future reference.  Now I decided
to use it.

       When I entered The Zoo I was scared to death.  I grabbed a beer and
headed for a back corner.  That first night I spoke to no one and no one
spoke to me.  I was amazed by all of the good-looking men, the kind of men I
wanted to bed.

       Two nights later I visited The Zoo again.  I hadn't been there long
when John, the process server my firm used regularly, walked in.  He was and
is one of the best looking men who ever walked the earth.  He and his lover
of many years have since been featured in "Honcho" magazine.  I looked at
John and asked, "What are you doing here?"

       He looked at me with a big smile and asked, "And what are you doing
here?"

       The ice was broken.  John introduced me to some of his friends and I
started to build a network of newfound friends, some of whom are still
around and friends today.  When you share sex with a friend, even if it was
years ago, you have a special bond.

       Being a married may, I could not stay out overnight and it was a
turnoff for a lot of guys.  But I had a lot of fun and from time-to-time I
scored.  One night I will never forget.

       I had had my eye on Curtis for months.  He was about ten years
younger, 25, about my height, 5"10", but bigger boned, with a wrestler's
body.  He was very cute, blue eyes, flaming red hair, round  glasses with
thin gold wire frames.  One weekend my wife and kids were out of town and
when I was out at The Zoo I ran in to Curtis  and asked him  to come home
with me .

       He followed me home and we made our way directly to the guest bedroom
on the third floor.  We stood by the bed and slowly unwrapped each other.  I
got Curtis' shirt off and found a beautifully muscled, hairless, alabaster
torso lightly sprikled with freckles.  His pecs were well defined with
dime-sized tits with hard points.  We stroked each other and kissed lightly.
  Holding the kiss, tongues entwined, we unbuttoned each other's 501's.  We
slipped them down together and Curtis' hard five and a half inch cock sprung
straight up. It was slender, about the same thickness as mine, just a bit
shorter.   He was wearing no underwear.  Except for a patch of very red
pubes his body was hairless and his skin was like milk.

       Curtis stood there with a smile on his face after his pants dropped
to the floor, "You like what you see?"

       "God, you are beautiful Curtis," I responded.

       "You are pretty hot too," he said, putting his hands on my ass and
pulling me to him, hard cock to hard cock, gently spreading the cheeks of my
ass.  "You have a beautiful ass, Mike.  I could fuck it all night," he said
as he pushed one dry finger into my almost virgin hole.  Twisting his finger
around he added, "You are mine tonight Mike and I'm going to fuck you like
you have never been fucked before."

       I wanted it.  I had only been fucked a couple of times.  And I wanted
it.

       "On your back on the bed."

       I obeyed.

       I grabbed some lube from the bedside table and handed it to Curtis.
He took a blob on one finger and inserted it in my hole.  Then he took
another blob and greased up his cock.  "Are you ready?" he said, smiling.

       "Yah, but aren't you going to take off your glasses?"

       "No," he answered, "I can't see worth a damn without my glasses and I
want to watch your face while I fuck you."

       Curtis got above me and I felt the tip of his cock poke repeatedly at
my hole.  Then he slid his cock into my ass in one long, smooth stroke,
until his groin was pressed hard against me.  No pain.  Just incredible
pleasure.

       The fuck started with long, slow thrusts.  On and on it went,
gradually gaining momentum and power.  Then Curtis would back off, catching
his breath and slow fucking me again.  He repeated the cycle again and
again.  We were both drenched in sweat and I started to feel things I had
never felt before, almost a state of delerious ecstasy, spreading from my
asshole through my body to my scalp.  It felt like my hair was standing on
end.

       Curtis started to growl and tears started streaming down my cheeks
into my ears.  Energy swept through my body.  Then it hit me.

       "Oh fuck me Curtis.  Dear God, fuck me."  I felt a surge in my ass
and at the base of my cock.  Cum shot out of my dick hitting me in the face
and splashing on my chest.  I screamed out of control.

       "Yes!!  Yes!!!!" Curtis yelled and I felt his cum shoot up my ass as
he pounded me into the bed.  He tossed off his glasses and fell on me,
gasping for breath.  We both groaned and laughed in exhaustion, rubbing
together the cum and sweat of  our soaking bodies.

       Never before had I been fucked like that.

       For several days after that my asshole was on fire, a constant
reminder of what Curtis did to me.  I found myself flashing back to his face
above me and cock up my ass while I was on the phone with clients and doing
dictation.

       That was almost 30 years ago and it is still a vivid memory.

       Curtis proved that the size of a man's cock is not as important as
how he uses it.

       In the late 70s trips to San Francisco were frequent.  I had my own
plane and business took by to the bay area regularly.  It didn't take much
for me to find a business necessity for a trip!

       In those years before AIDS, San Francisco was justifiably known as
Sodom By The Bay.  Talk about cruising.  Walking down Market on the way to
the Castro often ended up in a detour to someone's bed.  When a hot man
passed me I would sometimes turn to get a second look.  If he had turned to
get a second look, the question was, "Do I change directions?"  If I changed
directions, after "Hi", the next question was "Your place or mine?"

       I was told that I was a hot package.  I was doing a lot of mountain
climbing and wilderness back packing and I was in the best shape of my life.
  I weighed about 150 pounds (I am 162 now), had dark brown hair...almost
black, blue eyes and mustache.  I looked younger than my mid 30s...I was
still getting carded at age 36.  What had been a disadvantage in high school
(young looking and slender) was now an advantage.

       There was a dance bar on Marked near the Castro that I visited almost
every night when I was in town.  One night while I was standing at the bar,
drenched in sweat from dancing, this BIG Black Guy, 250+ pounds of muscle,
put his arm around me and announced,

       "You're cute."

       I can't remember his name, so I will call him BBG.

       We had a couple of drinks together and he invited me back to his
hotel.  We hopped a cab and were soon at the Hilton, where he had a suite.
We stripped to our jockeys and played with each other a bit when he
announced that he was hungry and called room service.  Soon some sandwiches
and a bottle of wine arrived.  When the room service guy came in, there I
was in my jockey shorts on the davenport.  BBG obviously knew the room
service guy and said,

       "Look who I brought home with me tonight.  Isn't he cute?"

       After room service left we had a chance to talk.  BBG had been a star
football played in college on the east coast and was now a Vice President in
charge of marketing for a division of IBM.  He had his first experience with
mansex a year before, decided to get a divorce, and had come to San
Francisco for a long vacation to find himself sexually.

       By the time we hit the bed I was fairly far gone with too much wine,
but was looking forward to having this big stud fuck my ass.  Much to my
surprise he rolled over on his stomach and said, "Fuck me."

       My cock wilted.  I felt like a toy dog trying to fuck a St. Bernard.
I just wish I had had the stills with my hands that I have now and I would
have more than satisfied his ass and cock in spite of my limp dick.  We
ended up cuddling and it was nice because he was a very nice guy.

       I came out to my wife around 1977 after she had a brief affair, which
she told me all about...before, during and after.  She began to feel guilty
and I told her not to, I had messed around too.  She asked, "Who with?"  I
responded, "It has been with a man."  I never did tell her that one of the
men was my brother-in-law.

       There is no standard like a double standard.  She felt it was ok for
her to have sex with another man but it was not ok for me to have sex with
another man.

       Eventually she became fairly comfortable with my goings on and even
enjoyed visiting gay bars with her friends.  Some of the men I was involved
with became friends with her and that of course ended the sex for me.

       In mid 1980 my wife decided to separate.  I went through a period of
"post-partum hyper sexuality", but soon realized that what I really wanted
was to share my life with a male mate.

      I soon found the man who has been The Man of My Life for over 21
years.  Stick around for the next chapter.  We have a lot of fun with each
other and others.