Date: Tue, 14 Aug 2007 09:10:48 -0500
From: Lance Dawson <lance.dawson@hotmail.com>
Subject: Lances Story Section 11

Author's Note:  This section is the first of the sections marking the
conclusion of my relationship with Matt.  Until now my autobiography has
been relatively easy to write.  Even my breakup with Jay, though it was
extremely difficult--at times I even found myself breaking down as I wrote
about it--was not something I found particularly difficult to find the words
to describe.

However, that's not proving to be the case with my break up with Matt.  As I
remember back to when it all happened three years ago, the memory is so
painful that I am having great difficulty writing about the last two months
of our time together.

Why our break up was so difficult has always confused me a lot.  I have
always considered Jay to be the love of my live and Matt a close second.  So
it seems logic would dictate that I ought to have more difficulty writing
about the end of my relationship with Jay than about the end of my
relationship with Matt.  But that isn't proving to be the case.

I have never come up with a completely satisfactory answer why the break up
between Matt and me was so much more difficult than the one between Jay and
me.  However, I do have a few thoughts.

Jay and I were only a year apart in age.  We were intellectual equals.  We
had the same tastes in most things.  It is true that I was almost always the
dominant one in the bedroom, but that did not affect our relationship in
most areas outside the bedroom, though Jay did help me get acclimated to law
school the first year.

In short, Jay and I were soul mates.  We had a mature relationship.  We
always knew what was coming at the end of Jay's third year of law school.
Although he tried desperately to find a position near where we lived, we
knew and had accepted that the likelihood that that would happen was small.

We also knew that if he didn't find a position near where we lived, he would
have to leave, and our relationship would have to end because a
long-distance relationship was just not feasible.  Consequently, when we
broke up, it was extremely difficult.  However, we had already gone through
the process slowly and with mature, though reluctant, acceptance over the
many months prior to its happening.

With Matt, things were almost all the opposite.  Matt and I were two years
apart in age.  Matt, God bless him, was far from being my intellectual
equal.  We had different tastes in almost everything.  Our dominance in the
bedroom shifted from day to day and depended on the task at hand, i.e.,
whether fucking, holding each other while we slept, etc.  Our relationship
outside the bedroom was also not one of two equals, e.g., domestic chores,
physical protection, etc.  Of course, all of that made it more exciting than
the relationship I had with Jay but more volatile as well.

Matt and I were not soul mates.  Our relationship was not mature.  I was
like his big brother in some ways, and he was like my big brother in other
ways.  I did not attempt very hard to find a position near where we lived,
though I did look.  When I was offered the incredible position I still have,
I knew I had to take it, and so did Matt.  Probably the only thing in common
between the two relationships was that we were all three intelligent enough
to know that they could not work as long-distant relationships.

On the other hand, Matt and I fought our relationship's ending tooth and
nail till the end.  We had never accepted it.  Thus, we did not go through
the process slowly and maturely over the proceeding months as Jay and I had
done

Perhaps Matt and I were much more dependent on each other than Jay and I had
been.  We never accepted our break up on an emotion level, even though we
knew it was inevitable on an intellectual level.  Even as were kissing each
other goodbye, I don't think either one of us accepted it.  That kiss was
the most bittersweet kiss I've ever given or received.  If I close my eyes,
lean my head back at just the right angle, and concentrate all my thoughts
on our last moment together, I can still almost imagine when his soft lips
pressed gently against mine for that last time.  And when I do, tears often
still fall down my cheeks.

I really hate to have to write this note and give away even a little of what
is ahead, though it's already clear from the story line up till now that
Matt I and did break up.  But I need to let the readers know that, because I
am experiencing such painful memories that are causing me such difficulty in
writing about my break up with Matt, the next few sections are likely to
take a while to post.  Please bear with me.  I promise everyone that they'll
be worth waiting for.

=============================================================

The next day was Sunday, March 21, 2004.  I'll always remember it because it
was just two days before the first anniversary of the war in Iraq.  The big
news that day was that former President Carter publicly criticized President
Bush and British Prime Minister Tony Blair for initiating the war.

Criticism by a former president of a current president's conduct or policies
is rare.  But it almost never occurs during a time of war, and that's why it
was such big news.  It was all the more significant because the next
presidential election was coming up later that year.  So everything that
happened that day will be forever etched in my mind.

I awoke to find that Matt was not next to me.  A half second later I
realized why: my huge, already-erect cock was engulfed by his hot mouth.

"Dude!  Didn't you get enough last night?" I asked him, chuckling.  He
didn't answer.  He just kept sucking on the monster.

"Aw, fuck!  I'm cummmmming!" I soon yelled out.

"Uh huh," he said, taking my huge load in his mouth, with a huge smile on
his face.  I didn't think I was ever going to stop cumming.

"Shit that was good," I said, as he came up to kiss me.

He had a playful gleam in his eyes.  Soon I knew why.  He opened his mouth
and deposited my whole load in my mouth as he gave me a deep kiss.  I took
it and was so surprised that I instinctively swallowed it all.

I've always loved cum, even if it's mine.  But a few seconds after I'd
swallowed it, I couldn't help but break away from him and start laughing
hysterically, even though I tried hard not to.

"What the fuck is so funny?" he asked, obviously a little hurt.

"I'm sorry, Babe, really.  It's just that you're so rarely such a naughty
bitch.  It caught me off guard.  I didn't mean to laugh.  You're so cute.
Please don't be upset.  I really didn't mean anything by it.  Honest."  But
I kept laughing.

"I don't know, Lance," he replied.  "Sometimes I feel like you think I'm
nothing more than just a dumb jock.  You always treat me like I'm a child.
I do everything I can to please you.  You know, it's not easy for me to
watch you graduate and leave here in a couple of months.  I'm going to be
left living here thinking of you every fucking minute of every fucking
day--JUST LIKE YOU HAD TO DO WITH JAY!  Except that for me, it'll be worse.
I'll be doing it for TWO years, and for you it was for just ONE."

Oh my God! I thought to myself.  He's right.  I'd never thought of that
before.  In a way, he'll have it twice as bad as I did.

"Oh, Baby, that never occurred to me before.  I feel like such an asshole.
Why didn't you say something about this before, so we could have talked
about it?"

"Because you've already got enough on your mind, and I didn't want to add to
it."

"But Matt, that's not right.  We're supposed to be here for each other.
Please let's talk about it.  And please don't ever keep something like that
from me again.  We've got to talk about these things or else we'll never get
through the next couple of months together."

He broke down and sobbed.

"I don't know how I can go on without you, Babe.  How can I get through the
next two years of law school without you?  I just can't."

I took him into my arms and held him tighter than I ever had before.

"Yes you can.  I've spent a year of my life preparing you for the next two
years.  You can do it without me.  I wouldn't leave if I thought you
couldn't.  You'll have to trust me.  Besides, you know as well as I do that
after the first year of law school, the second and third years are a
breeze."

"You know that's not what I mean," he said, sniffling, turning to look away
from me.

"I know, I know," I said, still holding him.  "But you'll have a whole
summer to take care of the other part--I mean, calm yourself down before you
start the second year.  We'll both have to be strong about it."

I turned his face back toward mine.

"Listen," I added.  "We'll make sure our trip to Europe is the climax of our
relationship.  It'll be special, something we'll always remember.  We'll go
out with a bang and know that it could never have been any better than it
was then, so there will be no regrets when it has to end."

"It'll still be hard as hell."

"Of course it will.  But it's the best we could ever hope for.  We're more
fortunate than anyone else could possibly be who has to break up.  You can
see that, can't you Baby?"

"Yeah.  I guess I'll have to," he finally said.

"Right.  Now you said last night you've got to get to the library to study
this morning, so let's go take a shower together.  We haven't done that in a
long time.  Then I'll fix you some breakfast, just like old times, and you
can get out of here.  OK?"

"OK.  Let's go," he said, still sounding somewhat bummed out.

We showered together and played around like two high school jocks.  It was a
lot of fun.  He went to his room to get dressed while I put on a robe and
made his favorite breakfast: waffles and sausages.

When he came to the table, I immediately got a little miffed at his clothes.
  He had on a tight pair of black compression shorts that showed all 10 ½"
of his cock and his balls prominently, an ultra short muscle shirt, no
socks, and black athletic shoes.  He was so fucking sexy I got hard again
immediately.

"Showing about as much flesh as you can, aren't you?" I asked him.  "Are you
sure you're going to the library?" I said, obviously a little miffed and
suspicious, or at least I thought it sounded that way to me.

"Don't be crazy," he replied, chuckling, obviously oblivious to my tone.

"I know you like to show off your body, Matt, but isn't that a little much
for the law school library?"

"You're serious?" he asked.

"Well, I mean, Christ, Matt!  It's for sure everyone will have no fucking
doubt you're not Jewish when they see you in those shorts!  And since
everyone knows you're gay and that you and I are breaking up in a few
months, I suppose every gay guy in school will be after your ass all day.
But I guess that's what you want, isn't it?"

I regretted I'd said it as soon as I did, but it was too late.  He had
grabbed his back pack and was out of the door before I could get the first
word out of my mouth to try to take it back.  I ran to the door and shouted
at him to come back, but he refused to listen and kept running.  I felt like
shit.

After moping around awhile feeling stupid about what I had just done, I got
dressed and called my parents.  Mom answered the phone.  I told her about
the job offer I'd received from the firm the day before--not about all the
sex involved with it of course, just about the law practice.  She said she
was very pleased for me, especially since the city was only a couple of
hours away from them.  I told her I had decided to accept the offer,
provided I could work out a few of the details with Jim, the
Partner-In-Charge ("PIC").

I also told her that Matt and I were going to Paris and Monte Carlo for
Spring Break--not really so sure anymore, after what had just happened
between us--so I wouldn't be coming home.  She said she was very pleased
about that and told me again they were very sorry our relationship was going
to have to end.  She said they thought Matt had been very good for me.  I
told her to tell Dad all about what I had told her and then asked her if I
could talk to Dad.

When Dad came to the phone I told him I wanted to talk to him about
something kind of personal.  He asked me what it was about.  The following
conversation then took place.

"Dad, you remember when I was about 12 years old," I said, "and I told you
the other boys were laughing about me because my, well, endowment was so
big, and you told me it would be OK because soon they would be jealous of
how much bigger I was than they were?"

"Yeah, I remember that," he answered.

"You also told me when I asked you why I was so dark there compared to the
rest of me that it must have been because of some dark ancestor in my past
that no one knew anything about."

"Yeah, I remember that, too," he replied.

"Well, I'd like to know, now that I'm grown up, all that you know about why
the men in our family are so big there and why I'm so dark there," I said.

I just couldn't bring myself to use the words "cock" and "balls" with Dad.
We were close, but we'd never discussed that kind of thing that openly
before.

"Why do you suddenly want to know about this now?" he asked.  "Is something
wrong with you?  Are you sick?"

"No, Dad.  There's nothing wrong with me.  You don't have to worry.  I just
think it's time I know everything about those things that there is for me to
know.  I think I'm entitled to that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I can't argue with that," he said.  "You deserve that.  OK.  First,
your endowment is so big, well, sort of `by design.'"

"What the hell does that mean?" I asked, extremely curious.  I could swear
when I spoke with him, just not use certain intimate terminology.

"Well, going back about four generations, when there started to be sports
teams in high schools, and many young men undressed together for the first
time, they naturally became aware of everyone else's endowments."

"Yeah," I said.  "So?"

"Well, a group of about six jocks who were on most of the sports teams back
in the high school here, and who happened to have the largest endowments,
well, they naturally gravitated together and became best friends.  One of
them was one of your great-great-grandfathers."

"OK," I said.

"In years past," he continued, "people were not as enlightened as they are
today.  Having a large endowment was more important then.  I mean, I'm not
saying men don't like to be well endowed today.  Of course they do.  But it
long longer determines the pecking order for nearly everything in life like
it did back then, especially if you stay in the same small town you grew up
in throughout the rest of your life, where everyone knows everything about
you.

"So the group of six jocks decided that they wanted to do whatever they
could to ensure their male descendants' endowments were as big as possible
because they believed it would give them the great respect it had given to
all of them.  Therefore, they made two agreements.  First, they all agreed
to marry each others' female relatives in order to keep large endowment
genes in their families, so to speak.  Second, they agreed that when it came
time for each others' sons and daughters to start dating, they would push
them to start dating each others' sons and daughters, so they also would
keep large endowment genes in the family.  In addition, they also had their
jock sons look out for other jocks with large endowments on future sports
teams who would also be acceptable husbands for their sisters or other
females in their families.

"Naturally, the process hasn't worked out perfectly over the years.  Not
always was a suitable mate available for everyone who needed one when
someone had reached marriageable age.  And there were times when the
chemistry was just not right between any two such people.  Furthermore, such
marriages were certainly not forced, though they were highly encouraged.
But overall, the process has been maintained fairly well over the past
century or so.

"As a result, over the generations, this process has produced substantially
large endowments in the male offspring of the descendants of the six jocks
of which now there are many.  We have continued to keep up the practice to
this day, even though we know large endowments are no longer as important as
they once were.  I guess it's still sort of a pride thing: men still want
their sons and grandsons, etc., to have the largest endowments possible."

"Dad," I jumped in, "you've got to be making this up.  This if fucking
incredible!"

"No, really, I'm not.  You can ask your mother if you don't believe me, and
your grandparents and older brother and his wife also, if you want to.  It
may sound ridiculous, but consider how you feel about how big your endowment
is.  Aren't you glad all your ancestors did it?  Aren't you glad we all felt
how we did about endowment sizes so that we went to the lengths we did to
keep them as big as we could?"

"Well of course, but . . . ."

"But nothing," he said, raising his voice a little.  "There isn't a man
alive who wouldn't be thrilled if his ancestors had done the same thing to
make sure his cock and balls were as large as possible."

>From the increased volume of his voice, it was obvious Dad was fully
dedicated to what he and his ancestors had been doing for all those years.
But I was a little shocked.  Not only did it seem a little medieval, it was
also the first time in my life I think I'd ever heard my father use the
terms "cock" and "balls."  I guess he thought this discussion had finally
made us intimate enough to do it.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," I replied.  "It is kind of weird, though.  But
what would other people think if they knew you and the others were engaged
in such a practice?"

"They'd wish they'd thought of it first!" he said, laughing hysterically.

"Yeah, I guess," I said.  "I see your point.  It's amazing the things that
can go on that no one knows about.  Anyway, that explains my huge cock and
balls.  Now how about why they're so dark?"

"Your mother's family is responsible for that.  One of her
great-grandfathers emigrated from Brazil just before 1900.  He was
reportedly quite good looking, though no one has a picture of him to prove
it.  He married a white American woman.

"The story goes that when she got a look at his cock for the first time on
their wedding night, she refused to have sex with him.  It wasn't incredibly
long--only about 8"--but it was incredibly thick--6 ½"!  It took him months to
stretch her out in order to enter her just a little, mainly because she'd
let him try for only about five seconds and then make him stop.  People were
pretty prudish about sex in those days.

"Anyway, he eventually managed to make love to her once, just long enough so
she got pregnant, and as a result she gave birth to your mother's
grandmother.  You never met her because she died before you were born.  I
met her once.  She was a beautiful woman.  Her half-white and half-Brazilian
features mixed perfectly.

"But by the time she grew up, married a white man, and gave birth to your
mother's mother, most traces of Brazilian ancestry had disappeared.  They
had all disappeared by the time your grandmother had given birth to your
mother.  There were no male descendants from your Brazilian
great-great-grandfather until you.

"Your Brazilian ancestor, unable to obtain sexual gratification from his
wife, sought out other women.  But they also refused him.  Even the local
prostitutes wouldn't have anything to do with him.  So he eventually started
going to boys and men.  They seemed to love his thick cock, and soon his
reputation as a gay cocksman flourished.

"So, Son.  I've answered your questions.  Now I've got one for you.  It's
not one a father generally asks his son, but in light of your questions, and
given how we've been doing things around here for so many years, I'm really
curious.  You don't have to answer it if you don't want, but . . . "

"It's OK, Dad.  You want to know how big I am and how dark I am.  I don't
mind telling you.  I'm 12" long and 7 ½" around.  And my crotch is a
gorgeous dark Brazilian shade of brown--now that I know what type of brown it
is.  That's why I wanted to know all about my ancestry and why I asked you
about it."

There was a long pause.

"Dad?  Are you still there?"

"Fuck, Lance.  I'm speechless!  No shit?  I've never heard of anything like
it.  You can't be serious!!"

"It's true, Dad.  Really."

"But, but, I mean, I don't mean to be so blunt, how do you get that up
anyone's ass?  How does Matt take it?  Uh, I'm sorry.  That's none of my
business.  That's too personal."

I laughed out loud.  "What makes you think Matt's the one taking it up the
ass, Dad?"

"Yeah, I suppose I deserved that.  Forget I asked."

"No, I'm just kidding.  I don't mind answering anything you ask.  I'm very
open about what I do and proud about who and what I am.  Matt and I are both
versatile.  That means we both do both.  As for `taking a huge cock up the
ass,' as you more or less put it--and Matt's is pretty big too, by the
way--simply put, we both go really slowly until we're ready.  Our assholes
stretch out, eventually, and it's fun to do the stretching.  It's all part
of the foreplay."

"Son, I can't believe I'm going to ask this, but . . . "

"You want to see it the next time I go home, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"Because I've never met any man who didn't, Dad.  And once you see it,
you'll want to touch it, too."

"No I won't!" he said gruffly.

"Yes you will, Dad.  And you'll want to jerk it off.  Everyone does.  Even
straight men."

"No I won't!  How could you say such a thing to me?"  He was angry.  I could
tell.  But I wasn't going to let him off the hook.

"Because, Dad, you may be my father, but you're a man, too.  And besides,
while you're jerking me off, I'll jerk you off too.  It's something I've
wanted to do and have been dreaming of doing since I was a little boy.  I
used to stare at your huge cock while you were in the shower or the bathroom
and then be unable to sleep at night just hoping someday I'd be able to
touch it or maybe even jerk it off.  You'll be letting me fulfill one of my
fantasies.  You wouldn't want to deny me that, would you?  It'll be fun!"

I knew I had him.  My own father.  Just another man.  My huge cock even had
my father under my control.  How fucking sweet was this!

He hesitated for what seemed like a long, long time, but it was actually
just a few seconds.

"Yeah, maybe it would at that.  We'll see.  I'll let you go now.  I'll go
talk to your mother and see what you told her earlier."

"OK, Dad.  Love you.  Bye."

This was fucking great!  Next time I was home, my father and I were going to
jerk each other off.  Just wait till he got a look at the monster!  He'll
want it in his mouth, I just knew it.  And he was even curious about someone
taking the monster up his ass.  Did this mean he wanted it up his too?  Time
would tell.  Daddy-Son sex, but not the usual kind.  Ha Ha!  Sweet!!  And
nasty, too!!!

I then thought about whether I should call Jim to discuss the additional
duties at the gym that would be required of me.  He had given me his number
at home should I decide to call him on Sunday, i.e., today.  Otherwise, he
said I could call him at the office on Monday, i.e., tomorrow, if I wanted
an additional day to think it over, or if calling him today wasn't possible.
  Since I was too anxious to know about the additional duties at the gym,
and I figured Jim would probably be in a better position to give me his
undivided attention at home, I decided to call him then.

"Jim, this is Lance.  Got a few minutes to talk?"

"Sure, Lance.  I was hoping you'd call today.  It'll be much better to talk
about this today when I'm home than tomorrow when I'm at the office.  I'm
out in my back yard sunning by my pool having a drink."

"No doubt in the nude, if I know you," chuckling out loud, as I ventured a
guess, though hardly much of a guess.

"Of course, Babe!  Can't avoid tan lines sunning with a suit on," he
replied, laughing.

I noted he was already calling be "Babe."  I figured if he could, so could
I.  I mean, the "King" could certainly call his subjects "Babe," or anything
else for that matter, right?

"True enough, Babe.  And I suppose you've got your hand wrapped around your
cock trying to squeeze something white and sticky out of it, right?"

This was really stretching it, but I decided the "King" needed to start
asserting himself ASAP.

Jim hesitated for a few seconds.

"Uh, yeah, actually.  But how did you know?"

OK, I decided.  It was time to go for it.  But I knew I had to be just a
little careful, as least at first.

"Well, Jim, you said you know all about me, so I'm a little surprised you
asked that question.  But I'll answer it.

"Actually, there are four reasons.  First, you're a horny slut."  I knew I
was going too far, but I knew he loved it also.

"Yeah," he said, laughing.  "You got me there.  But that was easy.  I told
you yesterday that everyone in the firm is a slut."

"True, that was simple," I continued.  "But I told you there are four
reasons.  Second, you're the PIC.  That means, given the premium you horny
attorneys place on cock size, you probably have one of the largest cocks, if
not the largest cock, of all the attorneys in the firm--10" and thick, if I
remember--and you're probably also one of the horniest attorneys, if not the
horniest attorney, in the firm."

"Pretty good guess, Lance.  True, too, in fact.  All true."

"A good attorney never guesses, Jim," I said, in a decidedly direct and
somber tone of voice.

Ouch!  Insulting the PIC with a line he had undoubtedly learned at least 10
years ago, probably in law school.  I was really pushing the envelope.

"Third, I saw the huge fucking tent in your pants when I met you for the
first time yesterday.  That means you were turned on by me, big time,
probably more than the rest of the attorneys.  In fact, I suspect you've
probably shot at least three loads thinking of me since you last saw me
yesterday."

Using the term "fucking" was really pushing it.  But I knew the bitch had
his hand on his cock jerking off as he was talking to me, so how likely was
he to get upset at me?  As I sort of expected, he started to get really
uncomfortable, so there was a hesitation before he answered.

"Uh, yeah," he said, a little less enthusiastically.  "I can't deny it.  You
did turn me on, and you do turn me on--big time.  And you're right.  I have
jerked off thinking about you since yesterday--a lot.  In fact, I was doing
that when you called.  But you probably guessed that, didn't you?"

Game, set, and match.  I didn't answer his questions.  I just continued,
thus asserting my complete authority over him.

"Fourth, and this one is the most important, so listen carefully.  You say
you know all about me?  Well, you may know all about my past.  In fact, I'm
very impressed just how much you do know about it."

I heard him giggle under his breath, perhaps just a little too smugly, I
thought.

"But there are a few things you don't know about me.  For instance, you do
know that men are attracted to me because of my huge cock and balls and how
dark they are.  They have been since I was 12 years old.  Men--all men--are
mesmerized when they see me nude, just as you were yesterday.  But just how
do you think I satisfy men sexually and keep them all coming back time and
time again for more and more and more, Jim?"

"I suppose it's because they can't get enough of that monster!" he said,
chortling.

"Wrong.  The novelty of a huge cock lasts only so long, Jim," I said,
pointedly.  "I can make the novelty last a little longer still because mine
is larger than most, I'm ripped, and because I'm good looking.  But sooner
or later, a huge cock and balls alone on a ripped pretty boy just doesn't
cut it."  I said "pretty boy" very sarcastically to dig him good.  "There
has to be more to it that just that, Jim, or a client will go looking for
variety: another different big cock, a different pretty face, and/or
different moves in bed."

"So what's the secret?" he asked very meekly.  I knew he was caving in
completely to my will at this point.

"It's in knowing exactly what the man or boy wants and needs, Jim, and I
figure that out just by looking in his eyes the first time I meet him.  I've
learned, after all my experience with men and boys in college, from fucking
frat brothers, escort clients, giving lap dances when I stripped, fucking in
frat house orgies, fucking freshmen I picked up at strip bars, and all my
other fucks, how to pick up on exactly what a man or boy wants AND needs
just by looking into his eyes the first time I meet him."

"Wow, Lance.  That's quite a gift."

"Not really, Jim.  Anyone could learn how to do it if he were interested
enough to pay attention and had enough experience.  Admittedly, it does take
a little time to master, though."

"So, I suppose now you're going to tell me when you looked into my eyes
yesterday you saw exactly what I want and need from you."

"Do you want me to tell you, Jim?" I asked him, with as sarcastic tease and
chortle in my voice.  There was a significant hesitation.

"Uh, well, I'm not sure."

"Are you afraid of the truth, Babe?" I asked, emphasizing "Babe" so
sarcastically that it must have sent a chill through him.

"Uh, maybe.  A little."

Now I thought I'd REALLY torture him.

"Jim, you'd better be warned, there are not going to be ANY sexual secrets
in the firm if I become King of the Gym.  It'll be too difficult to keep
them, and I'm not going to be responsible for trying to keep them and then
be blamed if they get out.  Everyone is going to get to know very soon what
everyone else wants and needs from me.  It's inevitable.  Besides, it's
going to be one of the ways I exert my dominance over each and every
attorney and other member of the gym as your `King.'"

"Shit, Lance!  That could be embarrassing."

"Or it could be incredibly liberating and exciting, too."

There was another long hesitation.

"Aw, fuck, Lance.  This is tough."

"I tell you what, Jim.  You tell me all about my extra duties at the gym
now, which is the primary reason for my call.  Then I'll think overnight
about what you tell me, and you think about what I've just told you.  I'll
call you tomorrow, and we can discuss these things some more and some other
things as well and see if we can reach an agreement.  Sound good?"

"Sounds good, Lance."

"OK, then.  Shoot," I said.

"OK," he said.  "But first I have to tell you a little about the history of
the firm for you to understand why we're asking you to join us and to join
us in the capacity we want."

"I'm all ears, Jim."

"About 15 years ago, three gorgeous, buff, well hung 30-year-old, gay gifted
attorneys left the firms where they were working to form a new firm designed
to handle gay and lesbian legal issues.  They hired three young gorgeous,
buff, well hung, gay assistants to do the secretarial and clerical work.
The assistants knew from the beginning that part of their job description
was to be present at frequent parties hosted by the partners at their
houses, and to be ready to perform other non-directly-job-related duties for
the partners as well.  They were well-paid and eager employees.

"The firm took off faster than the partners had ever imagined.  Gays and
lesbians brought not only gay and lesbian issues to the partners to handle
but all their other legal issue as well: corporate, tax, estates, even
criminal issues, to name just a few.  The partnership soon had to hire new
associates, so they went to the gay and lesbian communities of law schools
throughout the country and found associates similar to how they found you.

"In the first five years, they were not as well organized to interview
associates as they were with you, however, so the procedures were slightly
different.  They usually had to call gay third-year law students they had
discovered via conversations with action groups at law schools on the phone
to see whether they would be interested in having an interview at a
partner's house for an overnight party--the implication being clear that it
was going to be a gay orgy with strippers and escorts available, in addition
to law firm attorneys.  Those who were interested were flown to town and
participated.  Only in that way could the partners determine who was
`adequately qualified.'

"After six years, the firm had about 10 attorneys and about 15 staff.  At
that point, the partners decided to open the gym for the purpose of which
you are already aware.  The firm continued to flourish.  Another six years
went by, i.e., ending about three years ago, and the firm had grown to about
20 attorneys and about 30 staff.  By that time, sex at the gym, though
great, had become a little routine, though we did manage to get a little
fresh meat every year, such as a new associate, the occasional son of a
partner, or someone associated with the legal community from the area.

"However, we attorneys in the firm decided we wanted someone like you,
Lance, to lead the gym.  We decided we wanted a real incredibly hung stud
who would fuck the shit out of us.  We considered hiring someone
professional, like an escort or a stripper, but we were concerned about
confidentiality.  We feared that we had no way to ensure that if he ever
left, we could hold him to a confidentiality agreement.  We figured he'd
probably write a book and expose all of us, and there'd be nothing we could
do to protect ourselves and our careers adequately.

"We therefore decided that the only way to go was to find a suitable
attorney, such as you, because if an attorney left and disclosed what he
did, both he and his career would be ruined as well as all of us and ours.
So we started a search three years ago for our stud.  It hasn't been easy,
and it hasn't been cheap.  We've had many young men interview at the
mansion, Lance, and they just haven't `measured up,' if you get what I mean.
  Some weren't well endowed enough, some weren't ripped enough, some weren't
good looking enough, and some were just not academically gifted enough.

"Finally, we heard about you a little over a year ago.  We investigated and
reinvestigated your past thoroughly.  The only thing we've been a little
concerned about is that you're coming off your second very serious
monogamous relationship, and we thought therefore that you might not be
interested in this kind of arrangement.  On the other hand, we believe this
might be to both your and our advantages.  I'll come back to this point in
just a minute.

"In the end, Lance, we were pretty sure even before you left your apartment
to fly here two days ago that you were the one for us.  Yesterday at the
mansion was a mere formality.  You would have had to fuck things up pretty
badly for us not to have continued to be interested in you.  And then, when
you walked into the dining room nude, everyone was completely bowled over."

"Thanks, Jim.  You guys are pretty good looking yourselves.  And I mean
that.  It wouldn't be at all difficult to get used to fucking all of you."

"Thank you, too, Babe.  So here's where we are, that is, here's what would
be expected of you.  And I'm not going to sugarcoat it, Babe."

"Please don't, Babe."

"You're going to be the firm's whore in addition to being a full-fledged
attorney.  At 5 p.m. every Monday through Friday, your formal duties as an
attorney at the law firm will be over, and you'll go from the firm to the
gym.  By 6 p.m. you will have completed a full workout and have taken a
shower.  You will then be available to start fucking the members of the gym
in your own special room.  (Jim then described the room and exactly what
will go on in it, as I narrated in section 1.)  You will be provided dinner
every evening during a 30 minute break.  Your duties at the gym will be
completed around 9 p.m.  You will be similarly available in the gym having
completed your workout and showered from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. every Saturday,
and you will be provided lunch during an hour break.  These duties may of
course be modified based on our mutual agreement.

"There are certain severe restrictions on your private life.  You may not
engage in any activities of a sexual nature that are not related to
activities of the firm, including, but not necessarily limited to: dating,
escorting, or stripping.  You may not have sex while on vacation or while
out-of-town without the express permission of someone at the firm who is
authorized to grant such permission.  You may not have a boyfriend or
partner.

"In addition, you may not, of course, disclose the contents of this
agreement, any information about the activities of the gym, or any
information that might result in the identification of anyone associated
with the activities of the gym to anyone at any time whether during or after
your employment with the firm.  I would also like to ask you now to give me
your word that in the event you choose not to join the firm, you will not
divulge anything I have just told you,"

"You have my word, Jim."

"Thank you, Lance.  I knew I could count on you for that."

"To continue, you are required at all times to keep your body in tip-top
shape.  Failure to do so could result in loss of income or even dismissal.
I would hate to see that happen, Lance, as it may well be an unfortunate and
ugly parting between us if that occurred, depending on how far into the
contract period that occurred and the reason you failed to keep your body in
shape.

"Finally, this agreement will run for a minimum term of five years.  If at
that time, the firm decides to end the agreement, it may do so at any time.
You, however, may not choose to end the agreement before a term of seven
years without the consent of the firm.  So, Lance, what do you think?"

"Wow, Jim!  Those are some pretty strict requirements.  On the other hand,
that room sounds amazing!!"

"Yeah, we figured if you're going to be spending so much time satisfying our
sexual needs and desires, we owed it to you to give you a really nice
environment in which to do it.  Of course, we'll be getting the pleasure of
being there also while we're with you."

"I appreciate that.  But you really do put some harsh limitations on my
private life.  I mean, what about love, companionship, tenderness, and all
those types of things in my life for the next five to seven years?  I could
get pretty lonely."

"That's the hard decision, Lance.  We realize it's a lot to ask.  But you've
got to look at it from our perspective: this search has cost us hundreds of
thousands of dollars in money and lost time.  We just can't afford to do it
every year or even every couple of years.  In addition, our attorneys don't
want to have to get used to a new `King' every year or two.  It's not fair
on any of us, or on our clients for that matter.

"As for you, we think there are advantages to you that you should consider:
for one thing, it's a time in your life when a serious relationship is not
necessarily good for you.  I can't tell you how many attorneys I know who've
tried to make a serious relationship work during the first five years of
their legal careers and have failed miserably.  It almost never works, and
when it doesn't, it can devastate an attorney.  Not only his private life
suffers, but his professional life as well.

"Furthermore, you've just had two unforgettable, unrepeatable serious
relationships of the kind most of us never experience in our lives.  You
have no idea how fortunate you are, Lance.  You'll be lucky if you ever have
one that gets anywhere close to them again--not that I want to get you down
or anything.

"Nevertheless, we sincerely feel it would be good at this point to give
yourself some time to recover from them and not to start a new one.  Anyone
you find in the near future is almost certain not to measure up to Jay or
Matt, and it wouldn't be fair to expect it of them.  You're intelligent,
Lance.  You ought to be able to see that yourself."

In a split second I thought to myself that this last point made more sense
than I wanted to admit.  I'd already thought about it countless times.  It
was, undoubtedly, one of the reasons it was so hard for me to deal with the
breakup between me and Matt.  I knew deep down that the last three years of
my life had been incredible and that love would never happen to me again
like it had with Jay and Matt.  What I had had with them were
once-in-a-lifetime loves, and I had had two of them in my life already.  To
expect a third one was against all reasonable odds.

Perhaps love and I were through, if not forever, at least for a long, long
time.  Under all the circumstances, it would probably be best at this point
in my life to go back to the other life I enjoy so much and do so well:
using every part of my body to give men, both young and old, unbridled
pleasure and getting paid extremely well for it because of what I have to
offer that no other man does.  This opportunity would be one incredible way
to do just that.

"Finally, Lance," Jim continued, "fucking men, young and old--and lots of
them--is in your blood.  You've done it before, and you love it!  It's true
you haven't done it for the past three years.  It's also very true that the
past three years have been very good for you in that they've rounded you out
and given you some emotional stability.

"But I believe that, deep down, you're a hound, a hound who misses fresh
meat.  You loved Jay deeply, Lance, just as you do Matt, and you were and
have been faithful to both of them and never had any problem with it.
That's commendable, and I respect it.  But take away that commitment, and
you'll turn back into the incredible fuck stud you've been in the past, and
you'll love it--no, you'll relish it!"

"You're GOOD, Jim, very, very good.  I can see why you're the PIC.  You
could sell your grandmother a jock strap, show her how to use it, and then
convince her to put it on and wear it for as long as you tell her to."

"Ha, Ha," Jim said.  "I AM good.  I am not conceited about it, either.  It's
a fact.  I don't need to be conceited about it, any more than you need to be
conceited about that beautiful monster hanging between your legs and how
good an escort and stripper you used to be when you were an undergrad at
Northwestern."

"Touché."

"So, what do you say?"

"I say I need to think about it overnight.  It's a lot to ask, Jim.  I
always keep my word, and I don't want to give it to you unless I'm sure I'm
ready to do my absolute best to keep it."

"That's fair, Babe.  It IS a lot to ask.  We all know that.  Just remember
that the only things that are cast in stone are the time commitments and the
complete lack of sex, other than with respect to firm-related reasons.
Anything else we can discuss and negotiate tomorrow."

"OK, Jim."

"And one last thing, Lance."

"Yeah?"

"If you decide to say no, they'll be no hard feelings."

"Thanks, Jim."

"But I still do want you to pop my cherry," he added, giggling.

"You're a slut, Jim!" I said, laughing.  "Oh, and one most thing before I
go, Jim."

"Yeah, Lance."

"Now's the time."

"How's that?"

"I know what you're doing, Jim.  It's OK with me if you finish while I'm
still on the phone.  You don't have to wait till I hang up."

"What are you talking about?"

"OK, Jim. If you need me to prove it one more time, I will.  You've been
jerking off the entire time we've been talking.  You're just about to shoot,
but you're too embarrassed to do it while I'm on the line.  You're planning
to shoot as soon as I hang up.  Right?"

"Aw, fuck, Lance.  You're amazing!  How did you know?"

"Doesn't matter.  I know you want me, Jim.  You want my huge cock up your
ass, don't you, Babe?"

"You're killing me here, Lance."

"You loved watching me jerk off yesterday, didn't you?"

"How'd you know about that?"

I didn't answer him.

"One of the ropes of cum shot right out at you, didn't it?"

"Christ, Lance.  I'm almost there.  Awwwww, fuck!  Shiiiiit!"

"You imagined it went right down your throat.  Then, when I licked up my
cum, it was all you could do to hold yourself back from rushing in there to
help me lick it up.  Am I Right, Jim?"

"OOOOOH, fuck!  I'm cuuuuummmmming!!  OH, OH, OH, OH, OH, MY GOD!"

"That's right, Babe.  Give it up for your King!  And while you do, imagine
my mouth is catching every drop.  If you know all about me, you know I love
to take a huge load."

"Damn.  I can't stop cumming, Lance!  Oh, fuck!  I've never cum so much.
God!  You're such an incredible whore!"

"The best, Babe.  The absolute best.  And don't you EVER forget it."

"Oh, my God!  Never.  That was the best orgasm I've ever had."

"Of course it was, Jim.  And guess what?  I've never met a man who knows how
to masturbate correctly to get the maximum pleasure out of it.  So tomorrow,
when we're talking on the phone, I'll teach you the right way to do it and
talk you through it while you do it right for the first time.  You'll have
an even better orgasm than you just did."

"Oh, fuck, Lance.  Now I won't be able to sleep all night," he said,
giggling like a school girl.

"I know, Babe, I know.  I'll call you tomorrow at your office.  Bye Jim."  I
hung up before he could say anything else.

I thought about what Jim had said the rest of the day.  He was asking me to
give up a lot in my personal life for the next five to seven years.  I went
back and forth about whether I should do it.  Shit! I thought.  I couldn't
even fuck someone else while I was on vacation!!

On the other hand, I would have about 80 good-looking buff men, both young
and old, to service to start with and a little more fresh meat each year.
That was a lot of incredible ass under my control as their "King."  That's a
once-in-a-lifetime fantasy-dream come true.

Damn!  I didn't know what to do.  I decided I'd talk it over with Matt that
night and ask his advice.

I also thought the rest of the day about all my father had told me, glancing
down at my crotch every time I did.  I found it incredibly hard to believe
that four or five generations of jocks had been so concerned about the sizes
of the endowments of their male descendants that they'd push their children
to, in effect, breed in order to accomplish their goal.  Nevertheless, I had
to admit that I was certainly glad they did it.

And about my Brazilian ancestor: WOW!  What a fucking horny stud he must
have been!!  Every time I thought of him that afternoon I couldn't help but
pull down my pants and stare at my crotch thinking about all the Brazilian
porn I'd watched in the past.  I had always wondered why watching it had
turned me on so fucking much.

Next time I watched one of those thick Brazilian cocks violate a small boy's
hole, I'd remember to look at the monster with pride and think of my
Brazilian ancestor fucking the shit out of all the white boys he'd reamed
but good!  No wonder I'm gay and proud!!  I guess it was inevitable.  I
guess I really am a hound, just like Jim said.

I wasn't so sure about fucking younger teenage boys, though.  I'd never done
that, except, that is, for the one time I'd fucked my first boyfriend, Tim,
in high school.  But that didn't really count.  We were both teenagers, and
he was 16.  It wasn't like I was a man fucking a boy below the legal age of
consent.

For some reason now, ever since my Dad had told me about my Brazilian
ancestor earlier in the day the though of fucking younger teenage boys
turned me on a little, though.  I'd have to give that a little thought
later.  For now I had other things I had to deal with.

It was getting late, and Matt was just about to come home.  I'd been
worrying about him all day, too, even while I had been dealing with and
thinking about everything else at the same time.  I had to smooth things
over with him as soon as I could.  What I had done to him that morning was
stupid, and I wanted to do whatever I could as soon as I could to make it up
to him.  We had just too little time left together to waste it on fighting
about such ridiculous things.

Comments are always welcome
Lance: lance.dawson@hotmail.com