Date: Tue, 01 Jul 2003 14:42:56 -0700
From: Joseph Farrin <bigblaise@hotmail.com>
Subject: GOING TO SAN FRANCISCO

STOP and read the Nifty Warning about who should not read the stories
posted herein.  Their warning applies to this story.

GOING TO SAN FRANCISCO

After elementary school in Omaha, Nebraska, I attended the Omaha University
for two years and then transferred to the University of Nebraska Law School
in Lincoln.  I completed a year in an Omaha law firm, passed the bar exam
and am now into my 2nd year at the same firm.  As a graduation present and
for my 23rd birthday, my parents gave me a new Infinity sports coupe. They
told me it was paid for and the dealer was waiting for me to come in to
choose a color.  I picked a red one.  When Gary, a gay friend, first saw it
he told me that it was a real cocksucker's car and hoped I'd take him
cruising with we some night.  It is a 2001 model but I give it a lot of TLC
and it looks brand new.

Yes, I'm gay (in the closet to my parents, though).  I knew I liked boys
when I first saw boys pissing in the urinals in grade school.  I knew I was
a cocksucker when a guy in high school convinced me to give him a blowjob.
In fact, I couldn't get enough of it from then on out.  Nebraska seemed
well supplied with what was referred to, locally, as "big, fat, uncut, corn
fed cocks."  I just happened to have one of them.  Funny, but I guess you
always want what you don't have and I developed a real taste for
circumcised dick -- don't get me wrong though, I've had and enjoyed all
colors, shapes and sizes.

At the University I had some gay friends; later, in Omaha, I hooked up
occasionally for a one-night stand with guys I met in Internet chat rooms.
Right or wrong, it seemed more discreet than a gay relationship and Omaha
is not very open-minded.  By the way, besides being 25 and gay, I am a
tall, thin, blonde, blue-eyed guy and my name is Nathan Coleman.  My
friends call me "Nate".

In April, of this year, I decided to take a vacation and drive to San
Francisco.  I had heard that it was quite openly gay.  I had never taken
the Infinity on a long trip; actually, I had never taken any long trips by
car.  I pushed it the first two days, staying in Cheyenne the first night
and Salt Lake City the second night. The third night I stopped over in Reno
and tried my luck, for the first time, at a couple of casinos -- drank a
little to much scotch whisky, lost some money but still had a good time.

The next morning I was, luckily, not hung over but didn't get an early
start.  I knew that California was experiencing some unusually wet, cold
weather this Spring.  There was a lot of snow on the ground in the Sierras,
especially in the Donner Pass region but Interstate 80 was clear.  West of
Colfax the grades and curves eased off somewhat so my driving required less
intense concentration.  About the same time my cock seemed to be demanding
more attention and I was playing with it through my pants when I came to
Auburn and decided to pull off the freeway to get something to eat.  At the
top of the off-ramp there were chain restaurants in abundance on both sides
of the freeway.  To turn right seemed the easiest. Passing a Denny's, I and
pulled into the parking lot of an adjacent Taco Bell.

For the first time ever, I had started smoking on this trip, but promised
myself not to smoke in the car.  I got out, left the door open and lit one
up, standing by the car to smoke it before going inside. On the opposite
side of the narrow parking lot, a young guy leaned against the wall,
talking on a public phone located on the wall of the building.  He soon had
my full attention.  He kept looking at me with prolonged eye contact and,
at the same time, was massaging his dick through his pants.  Naturally, I
found that of more than passing interest. The guy was pretty safe doing
what he was doing as the phone was on the rear portion of the building
where there were no windows.



So, I sat on the edge of the driver's seat, door still open, and began
rubbing my crotch to see what his reaction would be. He stopped massaging
and sort of traced the outline of his cock along his pant leg with one
finger. To me, his signals conveyed that he had a big one and it needed
attention.  He kept on talking. I decided to stall some more and see what
evolved.  As I lit a 2nd cigarette, he put two fingers to his mouth, which
I took to mean he wanted to bum a cigarette from me.  I held up a cigarette
and he nodded his head to indicate a yes reply.  I walked over to him; he
told who ever he was talking with to wait a minute.  I lit his cigarette
and he whispered: "Wait for me."  I gave his crotch a squeeze and nodded my
head that I would wait.

I no sooner returned to my car than he walked over and stood in front of
me.  With my sitting on the seat again, his crotch was practically right in
my face and the outline of his hard dick was very clear.

"Thank for the smoke.  My name's Clair, and no wise cracks."

"I'm Nate and I've known a man with your name -- if there is no "e" on the
end it is a man's name.'

"I know you like what you see, Nate".  And with that he reached down, took
my hand and placed it over the outline of his erection that showed through
his pants and groped my crotch, saying: "Looks like yours needs some
attention, too."

"Those steps in front of your car lead down to a public john -- the
building right over there, the one with the red, tile roof."

"Is it safe?"

"Relatively, let me grab my bag from the telephone I was using.  Can I put
it in your car?"

When we entered the toilet, he guided me into the only stall, a large
handicapped one with the stool closer to the wall than it was the stall
partition.  He undid my pants, pulled down my thong underpants and motioned
for me to sit.  He dropped his pants and moved over between the stool and
the wall.  (I realized what he was doing.  If someone had bent down and
looked under the partition, they would have seen my feet, but probably not
his.  He bent over so he would not be visible over the top of the stall.)
I felt halfway comfortable with the situation.  He cupped his hand under my
chin, raised my head and tongued my mouth.  Then, he pushed his cock into
my mouth.  It must have been 7" long and it was as thin as he was.  His
balls were small.  He couldn't have been more erect.  I started servicing
him and, at the same time, I felt certain and knew that he did too, that we
were both too hot for our pleasures to last very long.  I was right; his
cock exploded before he had time to warn me he was going to blow his nuts.
It is always a struggle to swallow a guy's load when you don't know its
coming. I managed, as I wanted to show him I liked it.

Sometimes things turn out for the best -- just as we opened the door
another guy was reaching for the handle to open it.  He gave us a dirty
look; once out of his sight, we got the giggles.

"Nate, are you going to eat something?  Can I go along?"

"Sure, my pleasure."

We both ordered 3 Taco Supremes with a Coke.





After he ate his, he asked me if he could have another order of the same.

During our conversation I learned that he was 17 and had one more year left
in high school, lived in Colfax with his dad, to whom he was explaining on
the telephone that he left the house without telling him because he was
still asleep.  He also explained his dad knew he was going to San Francisco
for the weekend as it had been agreed upon last night.  He asked where I
was from and where I was going and was I on vacation.  Then he asked if he
could bum a ride.

I was erecting again, just sitting there and talking to him.  Also, I had
my first close look at him -- he was medium tall, probably around 5'-9" or
10".  He had dark brown hair, straight, parted in the middle, neatly combed
and a bit thin - not quite shoulder length and sideburns.  His eyes were
brown.  Despite broad shoulders, he was beautifully thin, even to his
fingers and legs.  He was wearing very tight jeans, a dark blue windbreaker
over a T-shirt and dark blue, canvas shoes with a white rubber band at the
sole.

I told him I'd give him a ride.  When we got to the car, he wanted to
drive.  I asked if he had a license and he replied that he did and had made
the offer because he knew San Francisco better than I did.  That made
sense.  It was not very spectacular between Auburn and Sacramento -- lots
of traffic and really dull west of Sacramento for a while.  Nearing Dixon,
as I remember the name, Clair told me we needed gas.  So he pulled off the
freeway, filled the tank, took a leak together in the john, kissed a little
and felt each other up before we put our dicks away.  After we had been
back on the freeway for a while, I happened to look over and noticed he had
his dick out of his pants, it was semi-erect and he was playing with it.
He saw me looking and told me to take over for him.  I did and more or less
fondled him all the way to the San Francisco-Oakland metro area.  He
alternately erected and then softened.  After I had held his cock for quite
a while, I began lifting my hand to my nose every so often.  The smell of
his big, teen dick on my hand was intoxicating.

The closer we got to the Bay Area the more beautiful the scenery became.
As we were crossing the Sacramento River Bridge just before Oakland he
asked if he could share a room with me over the weekend.  I replied that
I'd like that and I was sincere in my reply, even though I knew I would be
paying (what the hell, I was on vacation, had plenty of money and 4 credit
cards.  I was approaching the point where I was totally captivated by his
looks, his youth, his cock, his voice and his manner).

"Nate, I know a nice hotel on Sutter Street that is not terribly expensive
and they provide free parking in a nearby parking garage.  It's better in
San Francisco to just use Taxis anyway.  The city is compact so cab fees
are reasonable.

"Sounds great, Clair.  Go for it."  Shortly after we exited from the Bay
Bridge he drove around until he found a porno bookstore with a video arcade
that he was looking for.  I think it was on Eddy Street.  It was crummy
looking on the outside.  At the entry turnstile, Clair pointed to a row of
small bottles on the counter of the glass-enclosed cashier's cage.  He
ordered four of them; I paid for the bottles and the admittance fee.
Except for a seemingly new porno film on the screen (two army guys, with
huge meat, making out in a jeep in the middle of a desert -- presumably
Iraq), the place was totally dark.  Clair took my hand and told me to just
wait until our eyes adjusted to the darkness.  When my eyes adjusted, I saw
that the inside was worse than the outside -- it was total sleaze -- broken
seats, guys standing along the rear wall, meat out of their pants, jacking
off.  Clair led me to the front and through an opening at the side of the
screen.




Nothing could ever have prepared me for this.  Clair took me into a short
hall that led into a one stool, one urinal and one washbasin men's room --
all without stalls or doors and all dimly lit. In the hall an older,
heavy-set guy was on his knees sucking a young Hispanic boy with a man
sized cock.  The boy had his head leaning on the wall and his facial
expression was one of ecstasy.  Another guy was getting his cock sucked by
a guy sitting on the toilet and a young dude was ass-fucking a guy standing
at the urinal and, reaching around, jacking the guy's cock like mad.  The
place smelled of unwashed floors and cock juice.  It smelled like raw,
raunchy man sex. Yet, it was the wildest, most erotic and sexually
arousing, yet potentially dangerous, place I had ever been in.  We stayed a
while and just watched.  I don't think my dick could have gotten any harder
without getting painful.

Next, we went into a totally dark room that was painted all in black. Clair
took my hand and we felt our way along a wall until we found an unoccupied
corner of the room.  He dropped his pants and guided my hand to his
crotch. Then he whispered: "Nate, I'm going to uncap one of the bottles we
bought.  You didn't ask what they were.  They're poppers -- they enhance
sex.  I guess you have never used them?"

When I replied that I hadn't he told me that he was going to hand me a
bottle and to sniff it up both nostrils, one nostril at a time.  At first
it would be unpleasant but it would soon make me sort of light headed and I
would get a real erection -- which I already had, anyway.  After I'd used
them, I was to pass the bottle back to him and then go down on him.  His
dick was totally erect and the cockhead seemed bigger than it had before.
I settled down, sort of feeling no need to hurry, enjoying his cock
immensely.  Every now and then he would pull away and hand me the bottle
again.  I was having the most exciting and enjoyable time I had ever had
sucking a cock.  Suddenly he pushed me off, put his cock back in his pants
and zipped up.

"No more for now.  I just wanted you to see what sucking cock with poppers
was like.  If you buy us some liquor tonight and we get high on poppers,
I'll let you suck on it all night.  Would you like that?  Not constantly
but all night, or the best part of all night?"

"Oh God yes!"

After going through the turnstile on the way out, but not out the entry
door, Clair asked me if I had a cockring and I told him no. He ordered two
adjustable, Velcro ones from the cashier.

The hotel was on Sutter near Leavenworth.  Shortly after we got into the
room the front desk called to say my car keys and claim check were in my
mailbox.  If I wanted, I could leave them there until I checked out. Right
away, Clair took his shoes off and got into bed, atop the bedspread, and
said he was going to take a nap.  I read the "San Francisco Chronicle" I
had picked up in the lobby.

It was difficult to concentrate on the newspaper; my mind kept drifting
back to Clair, the events of the day and speculating how it was going to
end.  Clair was a good-looking youth.  I liked him very much.  He had a
beautiful cock and its thinness made it extremely easy and pleasurable to
suck.  Too, he seemed to be really keen on sex with an older man.  He could
fake that enthusiasm, but I felt certain that he could not fake his
quickness to erect if he did not like gay sex.  Shit, what's the matter
with me; I'm acting like he did something wrong and I was preparing the
case for the prosecution.






But I just couldn't turn my mind away from the subject.  Looking at him
napping confirmed my appraisal of his appearance.  I looked at him napping;
there was not a single feature to blemish to his looks -- he truly was a
beautiful, young boy. Additionally, he had a lot of good attributes and no
bad ones -- a far as I had discovered.  It was exciting just being with
him.

Maybe I was afraid something bad would develop.  Maybe he would get up in
the middle of the night, steal my billfold and sneak out of the room.  He
was a little forward in his manner and tried to be controlling but not
excessively.  All of his suggestions so far had worked out -- he was a good
driver, did know his way around San Francisco and the hotel was recently
remodeled, clean, comfortable, had a king-sized bed and was moderately
priced.  I convinced myself that my problem was that I considered him just
too good to be true and was having a hard time accepting that fact.

I decided to lie down beside him and rest awhile. I must have fallen
asleep.  I awoke because Clair was unzipping my pants. I raised my head and
saw Clair smiling at me.

"Wake up dude; you've been asleep for almost two hours.  I'm just going to
have a good, long look at your big dick."

He finally fished it out and it was erect.  He said he really liked it and
added that he didn't like to get fucked but if he ever changed his mind he
hoped he was lucky enough to find someone like me, adding that he really
liked my foreskin, which was loose and pulled easily all the way back.

"Nate, are you sure you'll be aroused and satisfied enough tonight to fully
enjoy yourself?  Before you answer, let me explain something.  I am only
oral, I don't enjoy anal.  I am completely passive.  I won't suck your
cock, jack you off or do any of that stuff in return.  I do like to kiss
and be kissed, cuddled and talked to -- both lovingly and dirty.  There,
I've said it.  If I sound like a date that's going to be as cold as an
iceberg, I'll leave if you want me to."

"How about that?  I have a question for you: Are you into B & D? If you
aren't, you better not try to leave or I'll have to tie you to the four
corners of the bed with your legs spread out so I'll have full access to
your man-sized, boy dick."

He moved atop me and literally swabbed out my mouth with French kisses.
(And he thought he was frigid.)  He rolled over beside me and told me to
put his my arm under his neck.  I asked him if he would tell me why he
decided to spend the weekend with me.  He replied that he thought I was
good looking, he knew I was hot for cock because we both took a chance in
the toilet at Auburn.  I was an enthusiastic but gentle cocksucker.
Whereas a lot of guys did it for self-pleasure, it was evident I did it to
pleasure him, too. He was hoping to hook up with a man he fancied but when
he met me he decided why wait look further; he knew he had found someone
far better than he ever thought he would.  In telling me this, all of my
doubts vanished.

"Nate, do you want to shower before we go out?  I showered this morning.  I
think I'm still OK."

"Me too, and by the time we get in bed you might be a little smelly down
there -- not raunchy but a little smelly if you know what I mean. I like
the smell of a crotch.  It turns me on."

"Let's have a cigarette instead.  It must be a smoking room.  There are two
ashtrays in here."



He suggested we go to Fisherman's Warf for dinner.  I asked what it was
like and he said it was a popular tourist trap, a lot of junky souvenir
shops, quite a few restaurants and local gays cruised there.  We walked up
Sutter Street and hopped on the running board of a cable car going to Beach
Street, walked one block down to Jefferson, continued on to The Embarcadero
for a while, and then turned and went back to a restaurant that Clair said
I'd like.

It was an Italian restaurant and the waiters were all undoubtedly gay. It
was an interesting place and the food was very good. I knew that Clair
couldn't be served alcohol so I didn't drink either.  I told him I was
sorry, if he were of legal age we could hit a few bars.  He told me not to
worry about it but suggested we have dessert and coffee and hang out for a
while. If I wanted an after dinner drink he didn't mind.  After a while he
took a trip to the john.  He was gone longer than it took to take a leak
and he returned with a guy that, I assumed, he had met in the john.  The
guy was young, very possibly the same age as Clair, or even younger. He had
black hair, a tad curly and cut in a casual style.  He was not as thin as
Clair, but a bit taller and his body was youthful and trim.  He had an
attractive face.  He wasn't feminine looking -- delicate or fragile might
be better words.

Clair introduced us.  The guys name was Gabriel Ponton -- he said it was a
French name.  Clair motioned for our waiter.  Gabriel said he had already
eaten but ordered a Hennessey Brandy. Naturally, I wondered what was up.
Our waiter told us he would like to move us to a booth in the rear corner,
a little warmer than our table by the front door and a little more private.
After the waiter re-seated us, he asked Clair and me what we would like -
we responded the same as Gabriel.  The waiter surely had to know they were
not of age, so I asked Gabriel what the deal was.  He responded that our
waiter overlooked his age because he was always trying to hook up with him
after he got off work.

When the brandy was served Gabriel and the waiter started talking to each
other and, while he was occupied, Clair leaned over and said: "I've invited
him back to the room with us.  It will be cool.  I'll explain later; just
trust me."

Going back to the hotel in a taxi, I asked Clair if we shouldn't stop at a
liquor store.  He responded that he didn't want me to go in a store, buy
liquor and then come back and get in a taxi with two teenagers in case I
was seen by someone and reported.  When the cab pulled in front of the
hotel, Clair asked if I had a $100.00 in cash.  He took it, handed it to
the cab driver, saying: "Nate, here, (pointing to me), would like you to go
get a quart of Cutty Sark Scotch and a cold 18-pack of Bud.  Please bring
it up to Nate's room.  It's 914 isn't it, Nate?"  I confirmed to the driver
that it was 914.  Then Clair told the driver to take the cab fare out of
it, too, and keep the change.

Then, on the sidewalk, Clair said we had time to walk a few doors down to a
small store to pick up a tube of K-Y and a pack of condoms.  This confused
me as he had said he was oral only.  We did beat the cab driver back to the
room but not by much.  When he knocked on the door, the boys ducked into
the toilet so he wouldn't see they were in my room.  Meanwhile I had given
Clair a look that he interpreted correctly -- "What the fucks going on
here?"  He mouthed his reply -- "Wait."  After the driver had left, Clair
made a trip to the ice machine down the hall and then poured me a man-sized
scotch and water -- equal to at least three bar drinks.

"Nate, take your drink and go sit on the john a minute.  I'll holler when
we're ready for you to come out."  (See, I told you he was bossy.  I
couldn't believe that I was beginning to like it.)




I couldn't hear what the two of them were saying but I could hear them
giggling once in a while.  I was beginning to wish I had grabbed the
"Chronicle" to bring with me when Clair popped in; he was completely nude
and totally erected.  He asked: "Is every little thing fine in here?" and
added, "It won't be much longer and I'll call you to come out, meanwhile
get undressed but don't play with yourself because that's not nice."  I
waited longer and Gabriel came in, nude except for a thong carrying a
second scotch and water.  I realized what they were doing -- the smell of
pot drifted in the door.

"You guys are smoking pot, aren't you?"  He replied that they were and
wanted to smoke a joint before we started anything but were a little leery
that I might not approve.  I replied that I didn't use it but I was not
narrow-minded.  He then suggested that they wait and share a second joint
with me if I wanted to try it.  I told him I'd try it, reached over and
pulled his thong down; his erection sprung out - a strong 6 inches with a
nice head.  In fact both he and Clair had cocks that far exceeded the
description "nice", they both had a set of absolutely beautiful, male
genitals -- balls and all.

What fascinated me the most with Gabriel was that he had shaved his pubes
and his balls.  I looked around more -- he had no body hair except on his
forearms and his legs below his knees.  I told him to him turn around and I
spread his ass cheeks.  He either didn't have any hair there or he had
shaved it absolutely clean.  His asshole was a beautiful pink. (How could I
be so lucky, two beautiful boys and I was getting too hot, too early.)

"I guess you are the reason Clair bought the condoms."  He replied "I sure
hope so, especially since I see how well hung you are -- you're really a
big boy."  In response, I admitted that I had never fucked a boy before.
He told me that the learning curve would take about two strokes after I've
gotten it all the way in.  He added that he was extremely choosy about who
he let fuck him, he had a tight ass, and he didn't want it all stretched
out by guys he only marginally liked -- he didn't need fucking that
desperately because he could be fully satisfied with oral sex.  I asked him
how many times he had been fucked and how long had he been gay.

"I've always been gay, it seems, but I just moved to San Francisco, and
never had a chance until now to be open about it.  I've only been fucked
twice -- guys with real tiny dicks, so I really want to try it with a big
one.  I've only been sucked off about four times. Like Clair, I'm passive,
but maybe not to the extent he is from my talking with him."

Clair called out for both of to get our asses back to the room.  The first
thing I noticed was six beer cans on the nightstands beside the bed.  Clair
pointed me to one of the wingback chairs in the room and told me to scoot
forward on the seat.  He wrapped one of the Velcro rings around the top of
my cock shaft and under my testicles, then, standing, the two of them took
turns binding the other's package (Gabriel must have had his own ring -- a
brass one.)  Gabriel walked his big erection, newly bound, over to the
dresser, opened a package of cigarettes and emptied it of a number of
cigarettes until he found another joint, carefully wrapped in thin plastic.
He warned me that the first puff would be a chocking experience, like one's
first cigarette.  They sat in front of me, on the floor, and we passed it
around.

I asked the question: "What is this stuff supposed to do to you?"  Gabriel,
or Gabe, as we were now calling him, told me that he wanted Clair and I to
try it because, among other things, it made you feel laid back, kind of
permissive and at the same time so fucking horny you couldn't believe it.





He continued that Clair had picked him up because he had told him of our
plans and he wanted to take part.  Being our first experience with pot,
we'd have to be a little careful with the poppers, but he, too, loved the
idea of prolonged sex more than thing he could imagine.  He hoped we could
achieve it.

Clair switched the floor-lamp beside the chair to low and the two boys
positioned themselves on the bed and on their backs, next to each other
with their adjacent legs together and their legs toward the edges of the
bed raised and spread a wide as possible.

Gabe opened a bottle of poppers for his use and Clair told me that he and I
would share one.  He didn't want me to spill it on myself and to keep my
thumb over it when I passed it back to him.

Those two young boys, crotches exposed to my view and waiting for, wanting,
me to take care of their homosexual needs, were the most beautiful and most
sexually arousing things I had ever seen in my life.  While I stared at
their big cocks, I wondered which boy I should start with but decided that
Clair might take offence if I didn't start with him.  Despite the fatness
of Gabe's cock and the length and thinness of Clair's, their two cocks had
some things in common -- their smoothness, absence of raised veins and
their large cockheads.

As hot as I was, I still had the sense to realize that to go directly for
their cocks would be wrong. So, I decided to start at the top and work my
way down slowly.  If someone started to boil over, I could back off and let
them cool down.  So, I moved astride Clair and began by tracing one finger
slowly and gently along the top of his eyebrows, his eyelashes, the sides
of his nose, his lips and then the edge of his ears, knowing these to be
sensitive areas. I pressed my lips on his, he opened his mouth and I gave
him a long, hard, passionate, open mouth kiss.

"Oh my God, Clair.  You are one beautiful, sweet boy and you are so fucking
hot to play with.  I can't believe you."  Out of the corner of my eye, I
saw Gabe watching us and playing with his dick, so I spoke, sharply to him.
"None of that, Gabe.  That's not to be part of the game.  If I want your
cock jacked, I'll do it -- understand? "

For the first time I noticed Clair had quite good-sized nipples, so large
in fact that I immediately went for them.  I rolled them between my thumb
and forefinger, sucked on them and gently bit them with my teeth.  I had
never been a tit man, but I was enjoying the hell out of his.  I backed off
and noticed that they had enlarged, were flushed with color, and stuck out
as if, in a way, they were having their own tiny erections. I imagined I
had made them quite sensitive -- maybe even a little sore.  I vigorously
rubbed both of them with the palms of my hands at the same time.  His whole
body jerked, he raised his head, opened his eyes and looked at me saying:
"My God, what are you doing?"

"Playing with your nipples.  You did say I could do anything I wanted with
you."  He replied: "No body has ever done anything like that to me before".
I didn't respond to his statement, but scooted down, held his cock straight
up and in one quick motion deep throated him.  With the whole 7-inches
buried in my mouth I froze, just keeping it there -- not sucking -- just
holding it in my warm, wet mouth.

He hollered for me to suck it.  I pulled off his cock and said.  "In a
while.  I'm going to give Gabe a little attention now.  Remember, we're
supposed to make this last a long time?"




Not wanting to duplicate everything on both of them, I grabbed one of
Gabe's arms and put it over his head.  Then I really did a tongue job on
his armpit

Because Clair had such a strong reaction to the job I did on his tits, I
more or less gave Gabe the same and he reacted much the same way.  Earlier,
I'd chastised him for jacking himself so instead of sucking him, I stuffed
and sucked both of his testicles into my mouth and rolled them around with
my tongue, while I slowly moved up and down his shaft with a thumb and a
forefinger.  Before he got too hot, I stopped, moved up and swabbed his
mouth with my tongue.

I announced our first break, but before anyone could react Gabe said:
"Wait, Nate, you lie down, I want to try sucking your cock."  He was a
little tentative at first, but soon got in the hang of it and was doing
such a hot job at it that I had to stop him.  From his expression, Clair
was obviously taken aback by this.  I wondered if he might be just a little
bit jealous.

After the break, I told them to stand up while I sat in the wingback
chair. Bending forward, I started tongue dancing over their dicks,
concentrating on their cockheads -- specifically their piss slits,
switching back and forth between their cocks.  All of us were hitting hard
on the popper bottles.  I was really high on them and they did, indeed,
enhance cock sucking.  I don't know if it was the poppers, but it was the
first time my mouth ever got so drooling wet while sucking cock.  Even when
I had a mouth full of cock, my saliva seemed to find enough space to drool
out between their cocks and the corners of my lips.  Their cocks became
coated with my saliva and slippery as hell.  It sounds a little disgusting
describing it, but the effect was beyond fantastic.  I was a seasoned
cocksucker, but I had never enjoyed sucking cock more.  Their totally hard
cocks slipped in and out with such ease and it somehow seemed to be the way
cocksucking was meant to be.

For some reason I remembered being with some straight dudes one night in a
bar in Omaha and listening them to talking about fucking broads --
especially about one guy talking about his expertise in that field -- how
he could make women cum again and again and how it added to his pleasure
when their cum coated his cock and made everything so wet and slick and how
the women screamed with pleasure. Suddenly I wanted these boys to fuck my
mouth.

I hollered at them "take turns fucking my mouth".  It was really hot even
watching their firm, teen bodies pump their big cocks into my wantabe
pussy.  Clair was the first to reach the point of no return, he began
moaning, rammed his 7" all the way in; I immediately grabbed his ass cheeks
and pulled him tight to my face so he could neither move nor retract his
throbbing tool.  While I held his body tight against my face, it kept
jerking. He was having spasms.  I could feel his cock pulsating and I could
tell that shooting his wad was a very intense moment for him.  His cock
discharged an unbelievable volume of sperm into my mouth. (I wondered if
that phenomenon, too, was an effect of the poppers.).

I had to pull off of Clair.  Gabe, damn him, was jacking again while
watching Clair. No way was there time to do anything except to secure my
lips around the rim of his cockhead and enjoy his cum flow.  Again I
marveled at the amount of warm, sweet, cock juice he pulsed out of his
dick.  It seemed, to my absolute delight, as though it would never end.

While swallowing his boy juice, my big, ole, fat dick erupted -- entirely
of its own free will. Some of my spurts hit Gabe's legs and some of them
went between them and messed up the carpet.




All of us collapsed.  I fell back into the chair.  The boys flopped on the
bed. No one moved, no one said anything, no one did as much as cough.  I
won't say for how long, I really don't know how long we were in this state
of total bliss, this state of recuperation.  Finally I did glance at the
digital clock on the nightstand; it had been almost three hours since we
had walked into the room.  I went over to the bed and squeezed into the
space between the two of them.

Still later, when the silence was finally broken, it was broken by Clair
saying: "Who wants a cigarette."  Gabe and I both replied: "I do."  Clair
lit one and passed it to Gabe, lit another and passed it to me, lit one for
his self and placed an ashtray atop my stomach, bent sideways and laid his
head on my crotch. I was the second to break the silence by saying: "So
much for our all night sex party, we just blew it right out of our piss
slits."  Clair answered: "Don't be a dickhead, it isn't even 2 o'clock
yet."  Gabe piped in and reminded me that I hadn't fucked him, either.

I suggested we should wait awhile longer before starting again.  Clair,
kidded me, saying I was just whining.  They stubbed out their cigarettes,
took mine and stubbed it out.  Clair raised his head a bit and sucked my
cock right into his mouth.  I was about to say that he had told me he
didn't suck when Gabe sealed my mouth with an open mouth, tongue swabbing
kiss.  It was a good try but it didn't work.  As far as that goes, nothing
worked immediately.  The two of them tried pleading, threatening, dirty
talk, sick humor and almost everything else they could think of.  Nothing
worked but I was enjoying the attention immensely.  They poured me a Scotch
on the rocks (I vowed to drink this one very slowly) and each of them began
nursing another can of beer.

Then, something took place that no cocksucker could ignore; I noticed that
both of them were developing erections. There was no way in the world that
a cocksucker could not erect in the presence of two teen age boys showing,
offering him their big, hard cocks.  They knew I was ready.

I started to get up but they pushed me back down again, took away my drink,
pulled me down and away from the headboard, worked a couple of pillows
under my head and put the popper bottle under one nostril and then the
other.  Gabe straddled me and began to slowly fuck my mouth with his fat
fuck tool.  I loved watching that big thing sliding in and out and feeling
his balls slapping against my chin.  He stopped for a while, but didn't
remove his cock, reached down and gave me the bottle again, explaining it
was practically empty so take some really good sniffs of it.  I actually
liked the nearly empty bottle better than a full one.  When he resumed his
mouth fucking he still seemed in no hurry at all; then I felt Clair put his
lips around my cockhead and slide them all the way down my shaft to my
pubes.

This was my first time at sucking and getting sucked at the same time -- it
was just too damn good.  I climaxed big time and spewed my cum into the
receptacle that Clair had so lovingly provided -- his warm, damp mouth. The
two of them must have plotted this scene together; Clair no sooner remarked
that he could actually feel my load with his tongue as it moved down my
urinary canal, than Gabe pulled his dick out of my mouth and dismounted my
chest.  With one of them on each side of my head and their cocks right in
my face they both started jacking off.  I watched with fascination as they
flogged their meat just inches from my face until their scrotums began to
shrink, rise and snuggle up to the bottom of their shafts.  First one and
then the other threw his head back, moaned loudly and put his cockhead to
my mouth, let the gift of their young bodies stream into my mouth, paused
and milked their urinary canals of the last, precious drop.





It was past time for me to say "Uncle".  I explained that I had spent 4
days traveling and then gotten into this sex marathon, plus the fact that I
had consumed too many drinks.  I told Clair I loved his changing his mind
and sucking my cock and told Gabe I was sorry we hadn't gotten around to
fucking his ass.  That is the last thing I remembered until some time later
I had to piss and crawled out the foot of the bed rather than ask the guys
to move.  Returning, I spooned up to Clair's back but my sinuses began to
bother me, so I turned over toward Gabe.

I was almost back to sleep and was just vaguely aware that Gabe was going
to the john.  I heard the toilet flush and was back asleep when Gabe awoke
me for the second time -- I was erect and he was unrolling a condom over my
hard-on.  I guess I said something because he told me to just go back to
sleep, which was dumb -- no way could I do that. The next thing Gabe did,
after returning to bed, back toward me, was to reach around and guide my
condom covered erection to the entrance of that pink little asshole I had
looked at earlier.  When he managed to get my cockhead inside his ass lips,
I asked if I should push.  He replied "really slowly".  It took a long time
but together, a little pushing on his part and a little pushing on my part,
we achieved it.  He reached around, found my hand and closed it around his
erection.  He had said earlier he'd wanted to get fucked by a big cock, so,
to kind of pay him back for waking me up, I began pumping and jacking him
slowly.  It didn't last long, I was filling the condom with my cum and his
whole body stated jerking.  It was obvious that he was climaxing, too, and
that it was a prolonged, excruciating cum for him -- so excruciating it
must have been pleasurable and painful at the same time.

Once up and showered we went to a restaurant/bar next door to the hotel and
they were still serving breakfast.  We ate a big breakfast, deciding we
wouldn't need to eat again before dinner.

We had the hotel desk-clerk get the car for us and crowded into it.  Clair
drove and Gabe sat in the front, passenger seat to navigate -- Gabe had
lived all his life between San Francisco and San Jose in one of the small
towns on the peninsula and knew San Francisco intimately.  We drove along
the bay to the Golden Gate Bridge, crossed it and looked at Frank Lloyd
Wrights' Marin County Courthouse, returned, went through the Presidio and
stopped at Cliff House, drove and walked around Golden Gate Park, sort of
doubled back and drove down Hwy. 1 along the ocean, not quite to Santa
Cruiz, but to a beach parking area and walked along the beach, barefooted.
We ate in China town and then walked in the Union Square area.  I was
amazed at the number of pedestrians -- a real contrast to Omaha and what a
city should be like.  Finally Gabe told us he just lived a short ways on
the other side of Market Street, he had to go to work in the morning and as
much as he'd like another night with the two of us he really did need a
good night's sleep.  We all said goodbye, exchanged hugs and kisses right
on the sidewalk, exchanged address and parted company.

Clair said he should go home, but rather than hitch hike at night he'd like
to stay over with me, if I was leaving Monday.  I had intended on staying
another day but very much wanted to take Clair back to his hometown --
Climax.  I remarked that his hometown had an appropriate name for him.  He
had put some of the beers in the small, hotel fridge and we both had a few
drinks.  Of course, we had another round at sex, didn't get out of bed but
snuggled, had another round, and talked for over two hours.

Going through Sacramento, I asked Clair how we were doing for gas (he was
driving) and he said we could get it in Climax and he'd walk home from the
gas station.  The closer we got to Climax the more I noticed Clair was
becoming quite emotional and I asked him if he wanted me to drive, but he
said he was OK.  When we had fueled up, he pulled into a parking stall
beside the station, we exchanged addresses and telephone numbers -- I gave
him both my office and apartment numbers.




 Clair leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, then said: "I just can't do
it!  I knew exactly what he was talking about and told him "I can't
either!"  Both of us had tears in our eyes that betrayed our emotions.  He
backed the car out and practically raced up a rural mountain road until he
found a parking area.  We locked the car, walked into the forest, grabbed
each other in bear hugs and kissed like I had never before experienced. I
felt him reaching down, with one hand, undoing my Levis then his own.  He
had fished out his long, thin 7" boy cock, which I now considered to be the
most beautiful male penis in the whole world, slipped it all the way into
my pants, between my legs and started dry fucking me like crazy -- never
letting his lips part from mine.

I urged him to stop.  I had never seen anyone so super charged, so fucking
hot.  It was as if he was going out of his mind.  I dropped to my knees and
took his sweet boyhood into my mouth.  He was quick in climaxing and so was
I -- right in my pants.  I told him what had happened; I took off my shoes,
my pants and my underwear and started to toss them away.  He grabbed them
and put them in his pocket (he wanted them for a souvenir -- cum and all),
braced me while I put on my pants and dusted my socks off before putting on
my shoes.

It seemed to take forever walking back to the car, leaning into each other,
holding hands and kissing.  Our passions were dampened, or at least put on
hold when I couldn't find my keys, which he had handed to me before we
started our dash though the forest.  We retraced our steps and I had
evidently lost them in the process of taking off my pants.  We both
realized we hadn't solved anything, just intensified our feelings for each
other, and had added to our problem.  We decided to have lunch before I
started on.

When he asked about seeing me again, I told him I had another two weeks
vacation due, but another lawyer had to cover for me while I was gone, I
had a busy schedule and felt I should wait before I took off again.  Then
we agreed that Memorial Day and the 4th. 0f July were the next upcoming
3-day holidays and agreed that I'd fly to Sacramento, rent a car, drive to
Climax and we could take it from there.  In the meantime, I'd phone him at
every stop enroute.  By the time we finished lunch we were both a little
more calm.

But, for me, it didn't last.  I stopped at a convenience store in Truckee
and noticed the beach sand on the floor mats when I was getting back into
the car.  From there to Reno I kept reliving the weekend and began to
realize that there was more between Clair and me than our enjoying a
weekend fling together. I kept trying to calm myself down by saying a
relationship with a boy was not what I really needed right now -- career
wise and all (despite the fact that the senior partner of my firm was a
closet gay, told me as much, and, I consequently admitted to being gay,
also).  However, having a live-in, teenage, boy toy was by no means a
common occurrence in Omaha.  Then, my parents didn't have a clue as to my
sexuality.  I decided I had to rethink this whole thing long and hard.

I waxed back and forth all the way to Reno.  I guess I didn't really grasp
the fact that all men had two heads -- one on their shoulders and one on
their cock - and they sometimes competed for attention.  When I arrived I
decided I needed more than the same, cheap motel I had stayed in on the way
to California and ended up in a really posh hotel/casino I had seen
advertised on a billboard on the way into town.

After a couple of scotch and sodas, I ate at one of the hotel restaurants,
started to play poker, couldn't even begin to concentrate, so switched to
the slots but they couldn't hold my attention.



Back in the room, I dialed room service for a couple more high-balls.  When
the bell boy delivered them he asked how I was tonight and for some reason
I responded "lonely".  He told me it happens in hotels.  I asked him if
there was a lot of sex to be had in Reno.  He said there tons of sex in
Reno, but it was all very expensive and advised me that it was safer to
have him arrange to have a girl come to the room than it was to pick one up
on the street or in a bar.  I guess I hesitated a little too long and he
added: "or boys".  (For some reason I remembered that Gary -- my gay friend
in Omaha -- the one that told me I had a cocksucker's car -- had once told
me the best cure for any problem was a strange piece of ass.  Anyway, the
bellhop was out the door, assuring me that he'd be right back.

When he returned, he had a small notebook with pictures of women and men,
with a description of each and the amount they charged.  The price for
women seemed to go up with their looks and/or the size of their boobs.
Men's' rates escalated in proportion to their age, looks and the size of
the blessing their creator had bestowed them with between their legs.

I asked the bell boy if they took travelers checks or credit cards.  He
replied "only cash".  I signed some traveler checks which he took to the
manager to cash.  When he came back I told him I liked the young guy with
the huge tool -- (at $300.00).  He didn't question me but told me to give
him several choices and he'd go down the list -- he'd pimped for them all
before -- he knew what to ask and being early in the evening he knew I'd be
better off with someone who hadn't shot his load yet.

Later, he escorted the young guy to my room.  I offered him a drink from
the host bar, he accepted, I asked him what he liked to do.  "What ever you
would like to do that would get you off in an hour".  I had a condom from
San Francisco and told him I wanted to fuck him then suck on his big dick.
At the time I didn't know, but have heard since, that these pay-for-sex
encounters rarely turn out very well.

This one did, the kid was warm and obliging, had a nice asshole, even
though it was apparent that he was not a tight virgin.  I fucked his ass
for a while, but didn't shoot, wanting to save that while jacking off when
sucking on what looked to be an 8" or 9" horse cock.  The sucking and
jacking produced the desired result.  He dressed, I rated him a 10 and
tipped him 15%, per the bell boy's recommendation.

$300 fucking dollars and it do much for me -- it just added guilt to my
indecision.  I made me feel cheap and dirty.  It was then I fully realized,
for the first time in my life, the vast difference between sex for carnal
satisfaction and sex for and because of love.

It was not late.  I phoned Clair.  He was out of his mind happy, but I
could tell he had been crying.  Talk about feeling cheap.  I wasn't worth a
fucking penny; that's how cheap I felt.  I asked him if he wanted me to
come back tonight.  He said that it was raining in Colfax and snowing above
2,000 ft. elevation and the highway patrol was not letting cars start over
the summit without tire chains.  He said he knew I had to get home.  I told
him I'd call from Salt Lake City and Cheyenne.

Half way to Salt Lake City I finally realized I could use my cell-phone.  I
called him and told him I could call him even while on the road and gave
him my phone number told him to call whenever he felt the need. So we
talked In Salt Lake City, Rock Springs and Rawlins, Wyoming, plus Cheyenne.
I tried several times Thursday to get him after I crossed the state line
into Nebraska -- Sidney, North Platte, Kearny, Grand Island and even
Lincoln, with no luck.  I didn't panic but was sorry I couldn't find him at
home.





No sooner had I pulled into my assigned parking stall in the lot adjacent
to my small, 3-story apartment and was getting my luggage out of the car
than I heard someone hollering my name.  I looked toward the street and it
was Clair running toward me -- he practically knocked me over with his
embrace.  God but he was excited and his excitement immediately transferred
to me.

"You aren't angry at me are you, Nate?"

"Funny boy, I've been worried about you all day but now I've just got to be
the happiest man on earth!"

"What if I told you I'm going to stay with you?"

"Go on tell me, make me even happier!"

There were a few cans of beer left in the fridge from prior to my vacation.
I tossed one to Clair and opened one for myself.  I told Clair there were a
couple of things we should take care of before we attacked each other
sexually.  I told him to call his father and I wanted to talk to him, too.
Then, I had to call my mom to let her know I was home.  After Clair talked
to his dad he handed me the phone.  Clair's surname was Mueller, so I
addressed his dad as Mr. Mueller, assured him the Clair was waiting for me
when I got home, I was very happy to have him move in with me and I'd take
good care of him. He wanted to know something about me, so I told him I was
a lawyer, had a two bedroom, rather spacious apartment in not a new, but
not an old, building either, and I had family in Omaha.  I told him Clair
didn't seem to bring much with him and if he wanted to pack up some of his
belongings at his convenience, send them UPS collect to the office as they
had an account with UPS and I would send him several labels, so there would
be no question when UPS picked them up.

The conversation evidently lasted longer than Clair expected; he knelt down
between my legs, spread them apart, unzipped my pants and worked both my
cock and balls out of the fly, kissed my cock and sat looking at it
erecting as I continued talking to his dad.  Pulling my free hand down he
sucked on my fingers, pulled off my shoes, ran his hand as far up my pant
legs as he could, all kinds of distracting stuff.

His dad asked if Clair would be enrolling in school.  I told him that, by
coincidence, a high-school classmate of mine had just become Assistant
Principal of the high school nearest the apartment, I was sure he would let
Clair start without transfer papers; I would take Clair there Monday and
find out exactly what kind of records would be required and how to obtain
them, saying I'd call him back on this Monday evening.

His dad ended the conversation by saying he felt a lot happier about things
now that we had talked and he thanked me for visiting with him.  He said I
sounded like a nice, level-headed young man.  I told him again, not to
worry; I realized that Clair's most urgent need right now was for me to
become an older brother or a father for him.  He laughed and said that
might be hard to do as Clair liked to be bossy.  I told him I'd already
experienced that and actually I kind of enjoyed it when he bossed me
once-in-a- while as it showed he was concerned about me, just the same as I
was concerned about him.

Phoning my mother would just have to wait.




The minute I put the telephone down Clair was on top of me.  I told him to
wait, picked him up and bodily carried him to my bed, rumpled and unmade
from leaving early the morning I left for California.

"Oh Baby, it's going to seem like we're married sleeping in my own bed with
you."  He didn't reply but smiled while frantically jerking my clothes off
as I stripped him of his. If it is technically possible for two persons to
simultaneously rape each other at the same time that is what Clair and I
did to each other. We were desperate, greedy, sex starved and so
frantically disorganized that we could not seem to proceed beyond kissing,
fondling squirming all over the bed, keeping body contact, pawing and
squeezing the other's genitals, as if it was the first time we had ever
seen or touched another male down there.

Finally, Clair flopped himself in the middle of the bed and told me to play
with his nipples, hard, make them really sore, he wanted them so sore
they'd be sensitive all day tomorrow as a constant reminder to him of what
we had done.  He was no longer passive, we were on each other for over an
hour until we had both exhausted ourselves -- he was truly a young, cum
factory.  After climax, he could erect faster and get into the game for
another round quicker than anyone I had ever had relations with before.  He
finally dropped off to sleep. I spread a thin blanket over him, as the
air-conditioning had made the apartment almost too cool.  Before he woke
up, I called my mother.

Sunday, we opened the door, hollered "Hello", and walked in.  My mother was
in the kitchen and I introduced her to Clair. It was obvious she liked him
from the word go and asked how long he was going to visit.  He replied:
"I'm living with Nate, now."  (Shit, I had forgotten to tell Clair that I
was in the closet to my parents."  She didn't hesitate but told us how nice
she thought that would be.  Seeing my expression, she added that she had
always known.  My dad came up from the basement. Mom introduced Clair, told
him our news and he, too, was OK with it.  (That was easier than I ever
thought it would be.)

Dad had just poured me a drink and handed Clair a beer when my older
brother, John, arrived with his wife, Peggy, and their son Kevin, a 6
year-old and in the first-grade.  Peggy kissed me and shook hands with
Clair. Dad fixed John and Peggy drinks and gave Kevin a small coke in a
plastic tumbler; John took his drink, went into the family-room and started
watching sports on TV; he didn't ask if I had a nice vacation -- I assumed
he was having a bad hair day (he could be a grouch at times anyway).  The
rest of us remained in the kitchen and visited.  Kevin took a shine to
Clair right away; it was obvious that Clair related well with kids.

Peggy, Clair and I helped mom carry the food to the dining room.  We were
just into the main course when John finally decided to come out of his
shell.  He looked at me and said: "Well, I see you found yourself a cute,
San Francisco fag to bring home."  (Deathly silence all around) Clair
didn't hesitate long until he replied: "Well, thank you, John; I've had a
lot of girls tell me they thought I was cute, but you're the first guy that
ever said that to me. I'll take it as a compliment."

Thing were getting a little too hot.  I excused myself from the table,
stood up and told Clair: "Come on, we're leaving:"

He shot back "Sit down!"  (Stunned silence followed this time from
everyone.)  I sat back down. My mother looked at me and my dad about
chocked on the food he had in his mouth.

Kevin interrupted the fray by asking: "Clair, what's a fag?"




Very calmly, Clair responded: "Kevin, I think your dad meant to say Gay; it
isn't a word used very often now but it means the same as happy."

Then, addressing me, he said: "Nate, I didn't take offense at what John
said.  I guess the truth isn't always what hurts the most.  You mother and
dad seem comfortable with my being here and I don't get a chance to enjoy a
good, home cooked meal very often.  Can't we just cool it and enjoy our
dinner?"

John announced that he was leaving.  Peggy told him that he knew she never
cooked an evening meal after eating at mom and dad's at noon.  Leave if he
wanted to, but she was staying and I could take her home.

Wow!  I was beginning to enjoy things.  Family arguments were rare in this
house, but Clair and Peggy seemed to be in control, so I decided to just
eat my meal and enjoy it along with the argument.

It was neither deadly silence nor stunned silence but silence did prevail
for a while, until Clair, addressing my dad, said: "Mr. Coleman, Nate tells
me that you work for the Union Pacific Railroad."

My dad replied he had worked for them since he graduated from high school
and probably would until the day he retired or died, whichever came first
-- glad to have found someone who expressed an interest in his job.

"The reason I asked is that John misspoke, I guess he assumed I was from
San Francisco.  I'm not.  I'm from a small town on the western slope of the
Sierras -- Colfax, California.  Not an important town but it was named for
a Civil War General.  Of course the building of the Union Pacific west from
Omaha and the then Central Pacific east from Sacramento was closely
connected to the Civil War Era.  Lincoln foresaw the need for a
transcontinental rail line.  In his mind it bound California to the rest of
the states and thought that was a necessary thing to do, even a military
necessity. Lincoln had to oppose the Southern States who wanted the line
built from New Orleans to Los Angeles."

And, I'm sure you know of all the Civil War Generals that worked on the
behalf of the Union Pacific -- General Grenville Dodge who surveyed the
route west through Nebraska and General Jack Casement who spearheaded the
laying of track through Wyoming.

My dad asked him how he had gotten so interested in railroads and Clair
told him his grandfather had been a station agent on the Southern Pacific
in Colfax until he retired and he still had a lot of his grandfather's old
"Railway Gazettes", which he treasured and as a boy spent hours dreaming
about trains and all the privately owned railroads, their names, the maps
showing where they all went and the detailed passenger train schedules.

He had just brought my dad into our camp - dad had found someone interested
in railroads.

Clair concluded by saying he had a book which he would ask his dad to send
-- "Nothing Like it in the World", by Stephen Ambrose, which was about
building the transcontinental railroad."

My mom piped in: "Do you like books, Clair?"




This led to their dominating the conversation for the next 15-minutes --
history was at the top of their serious reading and murder mysteries headed
their light reading.  Continuing they agreed that John Lescroart and
P. D. James were among the best in the field, both liking the way the two
authors wove the same characters into all of their books.  Clair scored
again; he had just put my mom in his pocket.

John was still visibly up-tight, yet quietly seething and to the degree
that I was almost feeling sorry for him.  Clair made eye contact with me
(we were sitting across the table from each other) we smiled and I reached
my hand out across the table (I don't know why I did it, I had never done
anything like it before, but Clair was on the same wavelength).  He reached
across the table and we momentarily touched our forefingers together.
Children, as you know, never miss anything and Kevin asked Clair:

"Why did you touch my Uncle Nate's finger?"

"Well, Kevin, when you can't say something in words, something like `I like
you', you can say the same thing by touching fingers."

"Do you like my Uncle Nate?"

"Very much."

"Does he like you?"

"Why don't you ask Uncle Nate?"  I nodded and Kevin stuck his little hand
out, forefinger extended and, being still on the same wavelength, Clair and
I simultaneously extended our hands and touched his forefinger with ours."

All women are, I guess, and for certain my mom is a romantic.  By this one
simple act of touching fingers, Clair was on the way to becoming her newest
and favorite son.  At the same time, Clair had guided me into revealing a
side of myself previously unseen by my family and unknown to myself -- a
warmth, gentleness and tenderness.  We left no doubt among those at the
table, except John, of course, that we were two young men in love with each
other, wanting to include my family in that love, demonstrated in touching
Kevin's little finger. Yet, in love to the extent that if my older brother
couldn't accept the fact I would have to say goodbye to him - in love to
the extent that I had no choice, despite any heartbreaking consequences
that might result, but to begin a newfound life with Clair.

When, only halfway unaware what I was doing, I shook my head and escaped my
thoughts, I told mom and dad that Clair and I should be going.  Mom and dad
walked us out to the front porch to say their goodbyes.  Clair started to
apologize, my dad broke in and said it wasn't necessary -- John had just
demonstrated what an asshole he could be.  Clair, addressing my mom, said:
"Mrs. Coleman, I should have told you I tend to be a little bossy with Nate
sometimes.  I didn't mean to startle all of you."  She laughed and said
that she had enjoyed the episode; I needed someone who could boss me,
adding that I was never too good at accepting direction from others when I
was a teenager.

Everyone hugged and we were on our way.

Once out into the street, I said:





"God, Clair, you were brilliant.  I was so fucking proud of you.  You were
so smart, so well read, all that stuff."

"And you're a little dense!  I always assumed you had a brain -- being an
attorney and all.  The problem is we're still too fucking overwelemed with
each other's genitals to even look for anything beyond them."

"I hope that feeling never diminishes."

"Don't worry; it's going to get stronger.  We'll just have to content
ourselves with slow discovery of what lies beyond man sex."  I'm giving you
one month to train me how to take your cock up my ass."

"You mean my big, fat, corn-fed, uncut, Nebraska cock."

"If that's the same one that has a big head, you guessed. Don't tell me
you've been hiding a second one?  Oh, and the first session starts
tonight."

"You'll have a sore ass Baby."

"It can't be any worse than my sore nipples.  And, I like it when you call
me "Baby".  Call me that all the time when we're alone; it makes me hot."

"As if you needed anything to make you hot."

Well, we continued going to mom's every Sunday but John and his family
never showed.  It wasn't until last Friday- near the end of June - that he
made contact with me, by calling on the phone one evening.  He asked if he
and Kevin could come by.  I replied: "Sure".

In about half-an-hour the door intercom rang, I buzzed the door so they
could come up and Clair and I together opened the apartment door when he
knocked.  He was holding Kevin, but wrapped his free arm around my shoulder
and motioned for Clair to join us.  Any and all of our remaining ill
feelings just seemed to drain from our minds.  John started crying so hard
that he started us all to crying.  Clair broke the reunion hug and took
Kevin into his arms.  John was a mess.

"I'm so sorry, Clair and Nate, so terribly sorry.  So ashamed. So
miserable. I guess I was so shocked at mom's that I was angry you had
sprung your and Clair's situation on me so suddenly, but now I realize
there was no warning, no preparation that you could have given me.  The
whole thing was my fault; I was just prejudiced about gays and finding that
my own brother was gay just caused me to fall apart.  Can you guys forgive
me?  Clair, can you let me be your older brother?  I really want to.  I
love you, I love Nate.  I'm so terribly sorry."

Clair interrupted: "Hey bro being terribly sorry is where you started.
Don't torture yourself again by a repeat.  I've always wanted but never had
a big brother -- in fact I've often wondered how things might have turned
out for me if I had. I can't think of a nicer big brother than you.  Sure
I'll let you; I even want you to be."

I asked: "Can two gays kiss their big brother?"


John pulled us together; we took turns kissing each other.  John said:
"Wow!  You guys are pretty good at that -- in fact you're almost too damn
good.  I might consider taking lessons from you."

"Clair warned him that kissing could become addictive."  Kevin had calmed
down and wanted kissed -- the three of us took turns.  Kevin giggled.

SO --- here ends the story.  Clair and I are totally immerged in our new
life together and Clair is about ready to take my Nebraska, corn-fed
endowment up his pretty little backside -- I'm going to try this weekend.
I am eager for the day that he can.  From what I've concluded to date,
through somewhat cautious experimentation, is that his love hole will be a
really warm, tight, slippery place to do some serious boy fucking.  He
thinks it will make us feel closer to each other.  He's mistaken; to feel
closer than we do is impossible, but it keeps his pecker up in the meantime
by just thinking about it.  So, I don't dispute him.  It would only start
him off on a bossy session again, and I'd have to stop him by kissing him
and unzipping his jeans at the same time -- a lesson I have learned from
him.

SO (again) --- if there are any readers who have followed the story to the
end, presuming there were any to start with, it would sure be great if you
could spare a moment to e-mail me if you liked it.  Suggestions as to how I
could improve my next attempt are welcome.  The best to all of you and my
kindest regards.