*ATTENTION*

This is a work of complete fiction.  This is a story involving romance and
sex between two men.  If this kind of erotica offends you, read no further.
Also, if you are under the age in which your community permits the reading
of adult material, then you do not belong here.  You may have made it this
far, but what would your mother think?

Questions and comments about this work may be directed to
DmetriXavier@hotmail.com

				"Dream Man"

	The night was kind of cold and rainy, but I needed to get away from
awhile, so I decided to brave the storm.  I was craving ice cream, and I
needed something to do, so I went.  I got into my car and drove two miles
down the road to the local super market.  I jumped out of my car, into a
puddle, and ran inside.
	The place was pretty deserted, except for the morose looking
check-out clerk standing behind the one station that was open.  "Probably
wishing for something better to do on a Saturday night," I thought to
myself.  I walked down into the middle isle freezer section and grabbed a
half-gallon of the better brand peach ice cream.  It was on sale anyway,
and I had this particular store's stupid "club" card, so I figured what the
hell.  I then proceeded to pick up a nice bottle of chardonnay.  I wanted
to relax that night, and what better way to relax then a chilled glass of
wine and a bowl of ice cream?
	I proceeded to the check-out, when this man of men strolls past me
into the lane.  He is any person's dream: tall, lean, well-muscled (from
what I could tell), dark hair stylishly cut, and a cute goatee.  He reeked
of good taste too, from his Armani shirt to Ralph Lauren shoes.  "My God,"
I tell myself, "this is the man of my fantasies!".  He turned toward me
right then and smiled with a perfect set of teeth, and the most amazing
green eyes I had ever seen on a human being.
	"Nice combination you have there," he says to me.
	I snap out of it, "Oh yeah...it's my relaxation method," I stammer
out.
	The check-out clerk then broke the silence with his total.  He
nonchalantly handed her a twenty, and she handed him back the change.
While she was ringing me up and the box boy was bagging his groceries, he
turned back to me, "Well, I hope it works.  I should try it sometime."
	"You never know.  I find it breaks the tension," I answered.
	He grabbed his two bags, "I'm sure it does.  Good night.", he said
again, flashing me one of those melt-your-heart smiles again.
	"G'night," was all I could say.

				***********

	Well, many a week past before I saw Dream Man again.  Trust me, I
was not expecting to see him ever again either.  He was still one of those
things I was kicking myself over when, low-and-behold he struts into the
restaurant I'm in with a tall, stylish blonde thing draped over his arm.
Here I am enjoying my pasta primavera, trying to forget him, when Adonis
walks in with a chick that would make any queen I know jealous.  As I mull
over this fact, I get a nice sized piece of broccoli lodged in my throat.
I start gagging, and then choking.  I couldn't breath.  A woman sitting
across from me starts screaming, "My God that man is choking.  He's really
choking."
	A crowd quickly gathers around me, and in runs Dream Man.  He grabs
me around the waist, lifts me out of the chair as if I'm a sack of
potatoes, and begins to administer the Hemlich maneuver.  After a few very
swift thrusts, he manages to dislodged the vegetable from my windpipe,
sending it sailing across the dining room into another diner's shrimp
bisque.
	The rest was a blur.  I remember falling to the floor, and one of
the women trying to splash water on my face.  I then went completely blank.
In the next instant, I'm in a hospital room wearing a flimsy nightgown with
a bunch of needles stuck into my arm.  And there is Dream Man, sleeping in
the chair next to my bed.  I stir a little, and he immediately snaps awake,
as if someone threw a glass of water on him.  He yawns, then asks me,
"Feeling better?"
	I stammer out, "Where am I?"
	"You're in the hospital.  When I got that piece of food out of your
throat, you fainted from the lack of oxygen.  I didn't realize that you
were going to fall over, but you did, and smacked your head on the edge of
the table."
	"Oh my God.  This has got to be one of the most embarrassing
moments in my life," I said, mostly to myself, " How long was I out?"
	"Not very long really," he answered, "we got here at nine.  It's
only 11:30.  I'd say about two hours."
	"And you've been waiting here that long?  Why?"
	"I kinda felt like it was my fault you got knocked out.  So when
they came to pick you up in the ambulance, I told them I was a cousin and
they let me go."
	"What about that blond you were with?"  I asked him, not realizing
that I had just told him that I was basically watching him.  Insert foot in
mouth...
	"Oh her...she's just a client.  I'm a fashion photographer."  He
said.  Then he smiled, "You were watching me huh?"
	I must've turned at least seven different shades of red,
"I...I...wasn't..."
	He put his finger to my lips, "Don't worry about it.  I was
watching you too."
	My only thought was, OH MY GOD!  DREAM MAN IS GAY AND HE LIKES
ME!!!  I had to think of a quick save, "See anything you like?"
	I couldn't believe I had just said that.  I wanted to just melt
away into the mattress of the bed and disappear.  But Dream Man answered
back, "Actually since you're accident, I got to see quite a lot.  And I
must say I do like.  I like it all.  Let's just hope you have a brain to
match all my likes."
	I did melt, but it wasn't from embarrassment.  It was an utterly
sublime feeling, like I was walking into the light at the Pearly Gates and
this is what Saint Peter was supposed to look like.  Gorgeous green eyes
and all.
	He sat up, and offered me a hand, "I think we should properly meet.
My name is Peter."
	My mind was whizzing.  Was this considered de ja vue?  "I'm Jake.
Nice to make your acquaintance."

			     *****************

	After that, Peter and I were inseparable.  The relationship was
truly kismet.  Our range was great.  We could be a the opera one minute
acting like the perfect society gentlemen, or at a horror movie acting like
high school kids the next.  He was everything I wanted in a man, and then
some.  We had a lot in common, but not enough to make the relationship
boring.  We were now into our sixth month, and we were really going strong.
And the funny thing was that we hadn't even had sex yet.  The subject was
never brought up.  We both just didn't want to rush it.  But as we
progressed further, the chemistry was definitely there, and we decided that
it was time.  We both went and had blood tests done, and we both were
squeaky clean.
	Peter told me that he wanted our first night together to be
memorable.  He wanted it to be fulfilling and romantic.  I just sat there
amazed.  This was the first guy that I had ever been with who cared about
things like this.  Most wanted a quick wham squirt that you sir that I
didn't have the time to react until afterward.  And the reaction was
usually one of regret.  I told him that my major thing was that our
relationship not change.  I wanted sex to strengthen us, not blow us apart.
	The chosen night was rainy.  Just like the one when we first met.
He took me out to dinner at a very posh French restaurant, and we had a
blast.  We talked about all sorts of things, things that for some reason
had never came up.  We talked about our family, our school days, and our
first time with another guy.  This was discussed in great detail, and for
some reason neither of us were slightly embarrassed.  It was just the right
thing to do.  This almost had to be the most wonderful and erotic
experience I had ever had in my entire life.  I stress almost.
	We drove home in his convertible, with the top "up" of course due
to the pounding rain.  We had decided that we would go on to his house,
since it was a house and my place was an apartment where it seemed everyone
knew everyone else's business.  We arrived there quickly, and as we pulled
up through the circular driveway Peter told me that I was going to be
blindfolded, "I have a surprise for you I think you'll like."  He parked
the car in front of the porch.  Then he jumped out and ran the my side,
where he opened the door for me.  He pulled me out of the car and into his
arms, where he kissed me.  Very passionately.  Greedily, like one sipping
on a glass of vintage wine that one doesn't want to waste too fast.  And
then out of his coat pocket he produced a soaked silk scarf, which he
proceeded to tie around my head to cover my eyes.  I was soaking wet and
putty in his hands.  I felt myself being led up the stairs of the porch and
through a doorway.  That was where he stripped away our soaked jackets.
	He then led me into a warmer room.  I sensed that it must be the
main room, because it just seemed larger.  And I knew it wasn't the
bedroom, because we had only just entered the house.  He told me to wait
there where I was, and not move or peek while he fixed some things up for
us.  I stood there, dripping, wondering what was going to happen next, when
I heard a match strike.  Then I felt an even stronger wave of heat.  I
continued to hear the striking of matches, and then silence.  I was on my
honor, because I felt that I was alone.  Then I heard a soft padding across
the floor.
	I felt his hands on me, rubbing my shoulders deeply through the wet
silk of my shirt.  His hands were suddenly everywhere, exploring every part
of my body, except for my pubic area, which he left untouched.  I was very
hard, and my erection was straining against the waistband of my briefs.  I
felt him begin to unbutton the front of my shirt, very slowly and
meticulously.  He then walked around behind me and pulled the shirt out of
the waistband of my dress slacks.  He was still behind me, rubbing my moist
chest with those hands; fingers lightly brushing across my nipples.  He
pulled the shirt off of me while still standing behind, peeling the wet
silk away from my back very slowly and feather-like.
	All the while I was standing there, motionless, wanting him to
hurry, but wanting him to slow down so that I could enjoy it.  He moved in
front of me again, and his hands strayed down to my belt.  He pulled back
the strap, undid the buckle, undid the button of my pants, unzipped the
zipper, and let my pants fall naturally to the floor.  I felt him move
lower has he slid the pants of my ankles and over my shoes.  Then he slid
off my shoes and socks and I heard them get tossed to another side of the
room.  I was now standing there in front of him wearing nothing but a
blindfold and a pair of semi-wet boxer briefs.
	I was shivering, not from the cold and the fact that I was still
wet, but from Peter's caresses.  He was rubbing me all over, and he touch
sent chills of ecstasy up and down my spine.  His smooth fingers rubbed my
cheeks, and slowly removed the blindfold from my eyes.  As my eyes adjusted
to the light, I could see that we were standing in his living room in front
of the fireplace, and the room was ablaze with many lit candelabra.  There
was a tray with strawberries in a crystal dish and champagne chilling in a
silver chalice.  And there was Peter, standing in front of me wearing
nothing but a ruby red silk robe and bikini underwear, which too were
straining from his obvious erection.  Here was my dream man standing in
front of me as if he were a Greek god carved from the finest white marble.
He was perfect.  The room was perfect.  I was in seventh heaven.
	"Are you pleased?", he asked me timidly.
	I just pulled him to me by the lapels of his robe, wrapped my arms
around him, and kissed him the same way he kissed me in the driveway, only
more seductively and urgently.  We began the thorough exploration of the
other's body, not leaving anything untouched or kissed.  By this time we
were completely nude and the room wasn't cold at all anymore.
	We lay down on the floor next to each other, immersed in the
other's mouth and tongue.  Our bodies fit together perfectly.  Peter
started kissing my neck, then he slid lower to my pectorals, which he
teased with his magic tongue.  He spent ample time massaging my buttocks as
he taunted each of my hard straining nipples.  Then he slid lower, licking
in-between my abs, which were tightened.  "I love a washboard stomach," he
whispered to me.  I giggled slightly and stretched out like a lazy cat,
hoping to signal him what I wanted next.  It worked.
	He ran his tongue down along the border of my pubic area, driving
me mad with it's light whipping action.  Then he began placing feathery
kisses on my inner thigh and ballsack.  I was almost about to scream in
sexual agony when he suddenly took my aching cock into his mouth,
completely swallowing it.  I just about passed out when I felt his velvet
tongue caressing my cockhead, then maneuvering along the rigid shaft.  I
was lost in sensation, until I felt his body turn and slither on top of me.
His head was still locked in my crotch, his lips and throat sucking
furiously on me, but now I was face to face with the most magnificent penis
I had ever seen.
	It was uncut, and looked as sculpted as the rest of his body.  I
tentatively licked the already straining foreskin, and got a deep-throated
moan in response.  I reached my arms around his middle, moving upward
toward his buttocks, and pushed his cock into my mouth, feeling his pubic
hair tickle my nose.  I continued pushing him in and out of my mouth,
letting my tongue explore the region under the foreskin.  And he continued
sucking and gripping my furiously, until all that was heard were the sounds
of the fire cracking and two men moaning.
	We began to massage each other's buttocks thoroughly, occasionally
letting our fingers glide their way in-between the cheeks.  I knew he was
being extra careful with my sphincter, because he knew that I had never
engaged in anal sex on the receptive end.  All of the sudden I wanted him
that way; I wanted him on top of me, stretching me open with his cock.  I
let his cock glide out of my mouth.
	"Peter?"
	"What?", he answered out of breath.
	"Make love to me."
	"Jake, are you sure?"
	"Yes, please do it to me..."
	And with that, he climbed off of me, and lay down facing me,
kissing me fervently.  I could smell my own sweat on his breath, and could
taste the precum on his lips.  He reached over onto the coffee table, and
squeezed some lubricant onto his fingers.  He gently lifted up and opened
my legs, and began rubbing the lube into my tight virgin sphincter.  I felt
him motion on finger into me, then two, then three, streching me, getting
me ready for him.  All the while he was kissing me, and whispering how much
he loved me and wanted me in my ear.
	He crawled on top of me, this time facing me.  I could feel his
slicked-up cock push against mine, then he moved it down toward the my
opening.  I felt his cockhead pressing at my entrancing, and I immediately
tightened, fearing slightly what was next.
	"Jake, if you want this, you have to relax.  I won't hurt you, I
promise.  Just push back as I push in, okay?"
	I nodded, tears running down my cheeks, not at the pain, but at how
tender and caring he was with me.  I did as he told, and as soon as he felt
me loosen, he edged his penis into me.  I did feel I little pain has he
broke my anal ring, but it was quickly replaced with pleasure as he began
pushing in and out of me, slowly be sensuously.  I almost fainted when he
hit my prostate, and moan desperately instead.  He stopped dead.
	"Are you okay?  Did I hurt you?", he asked me, his brow all knit
and perspiration dripping down his nose.
	"No, no....oh my God Peter.  Don't stop.  Keep going, just don't
stop," I moaned.
	He smiled at me, very sexy, and began picking up the pace.  He
arched his back, pushing deeper into me, making moan and cry out in
pleasure.  My own cock was riding along his tighten stomach muscles,
inadvertently getting jerked off while he was pounding me.  He bent down
and kissed me, and l let him search and seize my mouth with his tongue.
	I could feel him tightening, and I knew that soon he couldn't take
any more.  I urged him on, feeling my own orgasm building with his.  I
fought the urge to shoot and held back, wanting to experience it with him,
as the same time.  He pushed in and out of me, his hips bucking at a break
neck speed.  Then I knew the time was near, because a look of very hard
concentration was on his face.
	"Oh please, Pete, come for me.  I want you come for me, all over
inside of me.  Let me have it Peter!", I whispered to him, in-between my
own panting.
	I felt his muscles tighten more, and I felt him start to shudder.
The all of the sudden, he let out this animalistic cry as his whole body
wracked with convulsions.  I felt him spew inside me, the warmth spreading
in my depths.  At this same time, I too began my own orgasm.  My penis
began spurting forth hot wet semen between our two bellies.  After for
about 15 minutes of twisting and turning all over, he fell on top of me in
a heap.  We lay there like that for a little while longer, the tingling
slowly leaving my body in waves.
	"That was intense," he gasped as his head lay on my shoulder.
	I lifted his head and held his face in my hands, "Is that all you
can say?  That it was intense?", I said to him, in a mock-offended voice.
	He took my hands in his, and then kissed the tips of my fingers, "I
love you." he said to me, looking at me with these amazing green puppy-dog
eyes.
	I melted.  I couldn't believe my luck.  I had found the most
perfect, most romantic man on the planet.  I knew that this wasn't the end.
This was going to last a long time.
	"I love you too.  More that you'll ever know."


				    END