Date: Thu, 02 Jul 1998 18:52:30 -0700
From: fritzz@planet.eon.net
Subject: The Man of My Dreams

			   The Man of My Dreams
			     by Douglas McLeod
			   fritzz@planet.eon.net
			      Copyright 1998


I remember the first time I saw him.

He was lifting weights in the gym. Black hair -- short conservative
cut. Pale blue eyes -- almost gray. Nice taut body with magnificent
abdominal muscles -- a genuine six pack. The overall look was intriguing.
Sort of combination of a young Christopher Reeve and Tom Cruise. He worked
out regularly accompanied by one or two guys who helped him through his
routine.

I made a point of going to the gym whenever he was there. Sometimes I would
find myself just looking at him -- and being embarrassed when someone
wanted to use the equipment I was sitting on. My workouts suffered.
Although I spend a couple of hours in the gym I often didn't exercise more
than a half hour. It's a good thing I work construction doing heavy labour
or I couldn't have stayed in good shape.

That was the problem -- not that I was in shape but that I was a common
labourer -- not that there was anything wrong with that -- but the object
of my affection/obsession was a lawyer and, I was told, a junior partner in
the local office of a big national firm. Way out of my league. I had
dropped out of school in grade 8 and reading isn't my strong point -- nor
is math or anything else associated with learning. I'm good with my hands
and with tools. He was a man of learning who used his brain to make a
living. We were opposites.

Anyway, telling myself we could never be together, I contented myself
watching him from across the room or sometimes across the road or wherever.

I found out he played basketball in a league -- I found out by
eavesdropping on a conversation he was having with someone else -- I have
no shame. I loved to listen to his deep bass voice. I'm sure that if he
noticed me at all he thought I was stalking him -- maybe I was.

Despite being very tired at the end of my very long workday, I would make a
point of watching every game of his team I could. Fortunately, the games
are well attended so I could hide in the crowd. I thought.

Following one game, I was leaving when I heard a voice, his voice, behind
me, "Hey, there."

Was he talking to me? Or to one of the dozens of other people in the
immediate vicinity. I turned around slowly, hoping against hope. He was
right behind me. Looking as gorgeous as ever. Sweat gleaming on his face --
making it glow. Eyes shining from the exercise. I melted for a moment.

Then realized he wasn't talking to me.

I felt myself blush -- a 29 year old construction worker and blushing. Talk
about embarrassment. I quickly walked away -- easier now because the crowd
had thinned, berating myself as I walked "Idiot. Stupid Idiot. He doesn't
even know you're alive. Why would he talk to you?" I didn't realize I had
been talking aloud.

"Because I think you want to talk to me."

His voice, and this time he was talking to me. I melted again. I sat down
on a bench. He came around to face me.

"I have a feeling you are following me around. Is there something I can do
for you?"

I couldn't speak. I just stared at him and felt myself blush again.

He smiled "Now, how do I take this? Is this a crazy person who is stalking
me? Or is this someone who is just too shy to talk?"

I nodded -- a dumb response to his questions -- in both senses of the word.

"I see. Well, I'm going to clean up now. If you are still here when I come
back, I will assume you want to talk to me." He moved away to the dressing
room, stopped, and looked back, "I hope." He disappeared behind the
dressing room doors.

"'I hope'?!?" I echoed to myself -- and blushed again.

I waited in a slight panic.

Within twenty minutes he was back.

"I'm glad you are still here. I've been wanting to meet you for some
time. Particularly since it has been obvious you want to meet me -- you've
been watching me for some time, right?"

I nodded.

"Are you ever going to say something? Or are we starting this friendship
with a big problem?" he laughed. Beautiful teeth. Musical laugh.

"Oh, god," I moaned.

"No, just Christian."

"What?"

"Sorry, I meant, I'm not god; my name is Christian."

"I know."

"You know?"

"I asked at the gym." I stuck out my hand "and I'm--"

"Allan." He finished. "That gym is a fount of important information."

He laughed again. And I joined him. We shook hands. The physical contact
was electric. We held hands longer than guys are supposed to hold hands but
I didn't care. I was holding hands with the man I had secretly loved for
several months.

I tried to formulate a way of expressing what I wanted to say. Before I
could say a word he spoke.

"My place is right around the corner and it's easier for me, okay?"

"What?"

"I know it's sudden, but I want you. I want that hot body of yours. I've
wanted to run my hands all over those pecs and feel that ass of yours for a
long time."

I blushed as he spoke my very thoughts.

"Oh, god, I love it when you blush. It is so sexy."

I blushed again. And smiled. I placed my hand on his shoulder, squeezed and
said "Let's go." Not exactly romantic but to the point.

It took a long five minutes to get to his apartment. A top floor suite
overlooking the river valley and the lights of the downtown centre. Not
that I looked at the view for long.

As soon as we were in the living room, I plopped onto the couch and pulled
him into my arms. Our lips met. Magic. I snaked my tongue between his lips.
He sucked on it as if it were a little cock.

I laid him back and pulled his golf shirt over his head tossing it aside.
Finally, his body, that body I admired so long was here with me. I went
wild and dove down onto his nipples -- hard little points. Sucking them
obviously turned him on. He writhed beneath me. I pawed him as he raked his
nails along my back. I reluctantly left his nipples and moved up to suck on
his ear and then his neck. I nibbled, kissed and sucked my way down his
body to his rock hard abdominals. I used my mouth on every part of his
exposed skin. His skin was soft and smelled faintly of soap. The taste was
slightly salty. Fantastic.

I tongued his belly button. He moaned softly.

Finally, I reached his jeans' waist band. I popped the first button.
Opening the flap slightly, I licked the bare skin -- bare but for a dusting
of soft black hair. I nipped at the hairs tugging them slightly. I popped
the rest of the buttons to reveal his cotton Calvins. I nuzzled the cotton
encasing his cock. Already hard. Through the material I sucked the head of
his cock.

Christian moaned. His cock jumped.

I mouthed my way along the shaft alternately sucking and nipping. Christian
groaned and moaned and writhed. I reached the base just above the balls and
moved quickly back to the head to be rewarded with the taste of pre-cum
seeping through the cotton. Sweet, potent. My turn to moan with pleasure. I
sucked some more and then jumped back to his balls. Still through the
briefs, I nibbled at his eggs.

I was in heaven. Kneeling between his legs was where I wanted to be.

I reached for the jeans and started to pull.

"No, don't" he pleaded.

Making eye contact, I promised, "It will be alright." He relaxed.

I lifted his cute hips and pulled the jeans past his knees and over his
feet. I bend again and continued my oral exploration of his body. Working
my way down the left leg to his sock- covered foot and then back up his
right.

Each step of the way he moaned, "Allan, oh jesus, Allan."

Reaching his briefs again, I nibbled beneath the cotton, exploring with my
tongue his hairy balls and the sensitive area beneath them. At the same
time, I hooked my hands on the band and, with some difficulty, pulled the
briefs down.

Christian's hand clasped mine for a moment to stop me. Again our eyes met.

"It's okay," I said. And he released my hands.

The cotton slipped off, revealing his magnificent cock. It was beautiful
and I told him so. It was about six inches of cut meat throbbing against
his flat stomach. His twin balls were dusted with hair and I couldn't help
but plunge back. I sucked the whole length of cock down my throat, swirling
my tongue around the head and shaft as I slid up and down.

One hand massaged his balls, rolling them softly, as the other reached up
to flick his nipples. His hands played with my thick hair, tugging gently.

I recognized the unmistakable signs he was close to cumming. I extracted
his cock from my mouth and knelt back. Squeezing behind the head to prevent
his ejaculation, I blew softly on the head. His body bucked and rolled.

"Please, let me cum. You've got me so horny. I have got to cum"

"No, we aren't finished yet." I whispered gently.

When his urge to cum past, I stood up and slowly began to strip before my
naked god. I danced sensually, pulling my t-shirt off to reveal my hair
covered chest.

As I moved, I would bend over to kiss his lips, or cock, or eyes, or navel,
or whatever attracted my eyes.

Slowly, deliberately, I pulled my belt through each loop. I popped open the
button of my jeans, and pushed down the zipper. Wiggling my hips, I allowed
my pants to slide down my hairy legs. My hard cock tented my boxers. As I
moved up to his head he reached for my boxers grasping the bottom of
material and pulled them from my hips. My cock bounced up slapping my
stomach. I stepped out of my shorts.

Christian pulled me forward by my cock. His tongue flicked across the head.
I threw my head back and moaned. He sucked my cock into his mouth -- the
whole length. Hot moist mouth. He sent shudders of pleasure through me. It
was happening. This man was making love to my cock -- to me. This man
wanted to be with me. I was so turned on I felt myself getting close to
cumming.

"Christian, stop. I'm going to cum. Stop, please."

But he didn't stop.

He massaged my balls and my ass as he sucked.

"Oh, jesus, Christian, I can't stop."

Nor did he. He continued his manipulations until I shot. He pointed my cock
to his chest and my cum splattered in long thick ropes across his firm pecs
with a single gleaming drop clinging to one nipple.

My knees shook and to prevent collapsing, I lowered myself to the floor. I
started to lick my cum from his body. My taste mingled with his. I
concentrated on his sensitive nipples. His right hand grasped his pulsing
cock and began jerking. I gently slapped his wrist and removed his hand.

"No, that's my toy. Mine" I looked into his eyes again.

He searched my eyes. Questioning.

He smiled.

"Yours."

That single word was enough to cause my cock to rise again. Finishing my
cleaning job, I turned my oral attentions to his cock. Once more I brought
him to the verge of cumming before stopping.

"Please, I have to cum."

"You will."

I got back onto the couch, lowering the entire length of my body onto his.
Our mouths met. Our kisses were long, hot, passionate.

Not just the kisses of sex but more.

I felt our cocks throb between our bodies. I pulled myself back onto my
knees. Spitting onto my hand I stroked his cock. He groaned. I lifted my
ass up and positioned the head at the entrance of my twitching hole. I
lowered myself slowly. Inch by beautiful inch I lowered myself. I have had
many cocks in my ass -- some much larger -- but this cock was the one which
communicated pleasure. His cock filled me slowly, completely. I could feel
his balls bump against my ass cheeks. His hips bucked. He slid in and out.
I raised my ass until only the head remained in me and then plunged down.

"Oh, my god." he moaned.

 I repeated that action. Again. Again. Again.

"I'm cumming. Oh, god, Allan, I'm going to shoot."

And he did. I could actually feel his hot, gooey cum filling me. It was all
I needed. My second load surprisingly rivaled my first and coated his
chest.

Holding his softening cock inside me, I leaned down and kissed
him. Softly. Lovingly.

I pulled back to search his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes ringed with
long dark lashes. Those eyes. Those eyes communicated what I needed to
know.

I extracted myself from his embrace. I pulled up slowly so his cock popped
out. My ass felt empty.

I stood. "Can I spend the night?" I asked needlessly.

"Yes" he answered, as needlessly. "Shall we retire to the bedroom?" He
asked in a mock English accent.

"Sounds good to me." I growled back, breathlessly.

I bent down and lifted him from the couch. I cuddled him close to my
chest. We kissed. My cock rose again and brushed against his ass. His cock
bounced up.

I gently placed him in his wheelchair and pushed him into the bedroom. For
the first night of the rest of our lives.