Date: Thu, 17 Jan 2008 16:41:00 -0800 (PST)
From: Mark Stephens <sunspots2008@yahoo.com>
Subject: Who Am I?

This story is based on real people and real situations, but the outcome is
mostly fiction. A fiction I wish had been true. However, I don't think I
could have handled it at the time so it was probably best that it didn't
happen. Now, I can look back and fantasize. A fantasy that brings a smile
to my face and makes me think what my life may have been like if it had
actually happened. Come with me on a ride that many of you will find
vaguely familiar as a reality or a fantasy.

Part 1 The Seduction

I found myself at Frank's house again, a place I visited often because his
parents both worked and were not around that often. It was a lazy late
summer day and Frank called me to see what I was doing; I was doing
nothing, which wasn't all that unusual. Frank invited me over and I jumped
at the chance to get out of the house. Frank is alone in his parent's house
and we go up to his room to shoot the shit and pass some time. His bedroom
is a bright and sunny room, small, but with a lot of windows. There was a
desk and chair, but as usual we sit on his bed.  He is talking a lot about
some of his new friends, people he met away from our circle of college
buddies. We suspected that these were his queer friends, but he never talks
about anyone's sexuality.

Frank and I, along with most of our friends, are commuter students at a
local college. We are sophomores and of course are the repository of all
knowledge and experience. In our freshman year Frank was perhaps the envy
of other guys in our little group of friends. He was dating a sexy girl
from one of our classes. She wasn't stunningly beautiful, but she had a
sensuality about her that could turn your cock to steel in minutes. Frank
was getting a piece of that sexy Italian ass on a semi-regular basis.
However, something strange happened during our sophomore year when Frank
moved on from his girlfriend and was a little mysterious about where he has
spending a lot of his time. He still hung out with us, just not as often.

One night Frank, Tom and I went out to a bar we hit occasionally because
they served us without asking for an ID. Adding to the excitement was the
fact that entering the Park Avenue "Top Hat Lounge" from the side door was
like something out of a 1930's gangster movie. When you opened the outer
door you entered a small vestibule and then encountered a second door with
a small window and a buzzer. You buzzed and the bartender looked over at
the window and buzzed you in, that was half the fun for me. Inside it was
fairly nice, upscale compared to some places we visited. Places we visited
because of their lax adherence to the ABC (Alcohol Beverage Commission)
rules. Some nights we sat at the bar and some nights we sat at a table.
This was the night that the downtown department stores stayed open late and
a lot of women were stopping by on the way home -- ladies night out. We
took a seat at a table and the waitress came over and told us with her eyes
and expression that we better not order alcohol. We ordered cokes and a
sandwich, glancing around to see if we could spot the ABC agent. We spotted
him, finished our sandwiches, paid the bill and left. Tom inquired if we
knew of another place, not too far away, where we could get served. Frank
said he knew of a place downtown near the main post office. So we climbed
in the car and headed off for downtown.

Frank directed us to a seedy side street downtown, in the general area of
the main post office.  We found the bar, the "Morning Bluebird", and parked
at the curb nearby. We went inside; Tom looked around and asked Frank if
this was a queer joint. Frank smiled and said he didn't know. We knew. It
was. We didn't talk about it very much, but we all knew that Frank was
queer. Frank didn't have too much time for us anymore, but we still
included him as a friend. Some guys didn't want to end up alone with him
when we went out, but no one gave him a hard time, it wasn't really
discussed. I didn't care if I ended up alone with him, he was a friend and
I wasn't going to treat him like an outcast. That being said, we didn't see
that much of him away from classes and time spent in the student union.

So here we are, Frank and I sitting on his bed just shooting the shit. He
mentions a few of his new friends, but never talks about anyone's
sexuality. It was a sunny afternoon and I felt a little bit like I was in a
pleasant dream state. Frank reaches over and rubs the fabric of my pants
between his fingers like he is admiring the workmanship. I feel a little
nervous, but also a little aroused. I look over at Frank and see a
questioning look in his eyes. I feel a redness rising to my face; I am
embarrassed, but also turned on. Frank releases the fabric and slowly
slides his hand up to my thigh and starts to rub my thigh. Now my face is a
bright red and my cock is almost at full mast.

I'm a virgin; I mean I have never had sex with anyone other than my right
hand, and sometimes my left hand when I feel real crazy. Now I don't know
what to think. I know where he is going with this and I think I want to go
there too. He asks if I am alright as his hand lightly strokes my thigh and
then slides higher toward my somewhat obvious hard-on. I nod and then
hoarsely reply that I am OK. Frank smiles and reaches for his prize, gently
rubbing my cock. I don't move or say anything, he has me now. We will have
sex this afternoon, I know it and he knows it. I will have lost some of my
virginity before I leave Frank's bedroom today. Is this really me? Would a
good Catholic boy do this? Am I queer? Who am I?

To be continued...

Is this interesting to you? Ok, your pants are around your ankles and you
are waiting for the good stuff. All in good time, this is the seduction
part. The sex part comes (pun intended) in the next chapter.

If you had an experience like this, let me know.