Date: Sun, 24 May 2015 21:15:55 +0200
From: patrickbuckley55@gmail.com
Subject: Abernethy

Abernethy

Chapter One:

By the time I was sixteen, it was clear to one and all that I would live my
life as a gay man. I was not effeminate. I simply refused to play the
pretense game that so many unfortunate souls had to conform to. Luckily my
parents were very laidback and non-prescriptive. When I eventually outed
myself it was a total nonevent. I had never had proper sex at that age, but
knew what did and did not turn me on. I was attracted to boys, simple as
that. Other than my sexual orientation I lived life as any other boy
would. I had no inclination to dress as a woman, and also like sports as
much as the next guy. I was equally comfortable however discussing plant
varieties and paging through d?cor magazines.

I excelled at art in high school and wanted to become an artist. Sculpture
particularly interested me. After high school I enrolled in an art college,
and at the end of my first year met Paul. He became my first lover. He was
suave and sophisticated, and in his mid-twenties. He held a managerial
position at a company that sold housewares. He had quite a lovely
apartment, and after six months I moved in with him. My parents were
totally cool with the arrangement. Sex was always good, and I believed that
I could not be happier.

Fortunately Paul got on very well with my parents, and our get-togethers
were always very enjoyable. Life proceeded as usual, and a year and a half
later I graduated from college. Paul was often away from home because of
his work. This afforded me a lot of time to dedicate to my sculptures. My
work started being noticed after six months as a full time artist. Not only
was I starting to make a living, but I was also creating quite a name for
myself. Unfortunately my personal life took a turn for the worse at that
point, when I discovered that Paul was having an affair.

I friend of mine alerted me to fact. After minor investigation I found it
to be true. My dad assisted me obtaining alternative accommodation. Without
Paul even knowing beforehand I moved out. Upon his arrival home one evening
he found a note I left, explaining all that had to be said. He tried to
contact me, but I simply cut him dead.

For the next three months I worked my backside off preparing for a solo
exhibition, which turned out to be a huge success. Paul attended the
opening night. When he congratulated me, I thank him before summarily
moving off to mingle with the other guests. I saw him sheepishly leaving
ten minutes later. There was no doubt that he had finally got the
message. It is strange how the truth always outs. I discovered that Paul
had often been unfaithful during our relationship. Fortunately after blood
tests however, I was relieved to find that I hadn't been "positively"
infected by his promiscuity. Upon reflection I also realized that he had
been "all sizzle with very little substance".

To cheer my good fortune I decided to visit a gay bar the following
Saturday evening, to celebrate my success. Having never been to a club or
bar, I checked out a gay magazine to find which one to visit. With
literally dozens of names, I decided to base my choice on a tried and
tested method; the alphabet. The first name under the bar section was
Abernethy. The bar was several stations away from where I lived. I was
therefore cognizant of the fact that the last train back to my home left at
11:45pm.

At 8pm I entered the bar after my relatively short train journey. The
neighborhood was okay, but the bar had obviously seen better days. The
place was relatively empty. Upon inquiring why this was so from Des, the
barman, he told me that the clients only really arrived after
9:30pm. Jovial as I was, I was not going to let the unremarkable
establishment spoil my evening.

Fifteen minutes later I was joined at the counter by a fireman, who ordered
a Coke before engaging me in conversation. Wes, full name Wesley was a
fireman at the local station and would be reporting for duty at 10pm. He
was very handsome with short dark hair and a mustache. Wes was 6'0" tall
and fairly hunky. In his fireman's overall he appeared to have a very
substantial bubble butt which demanded ones attention. His hands were
large, and his feet judging by his boots were huge. In short, he was a
walking wet-dream.

When I told him where I lived, he replied; "Why did you decide to slum it
tonight". I was slightly taken aback and explained the details why I had
chosen this bar. He then told me that the bar was named after some or other
kind of biscuit. We continued chatting for the next hour and a half,
swapping our life stories. At 9:45pm he announced that he had to head off
to work. Having had my fill of the place, I left at the same time as
him. Outside, before we parted company, he asked me if I made a decent
breakfast. I replied that I did. He then asked for my telephone number
saying that he would put me to the test the following morning.

Chapter Two:

On my way home on the train I wondered if I would see him as threatened. He
was totally hot and I hoped that I would receive his call. As I walked to
my home I laughed as I passed by my local fire station, which was a block
and a half from my apartment. It would be great if he were stationed there.

I was awoken the following morning by a beep from my phone. The SMS simply
asked where I lived. After furnishing my address with the local fire
station as a marker, I presently received a reply to say that I would see
him at 8:30am. Wes arrived on time by motorbike, and I presented him with a
breakfast of note. As we ate I observed that he looked quite tired. His
shift had been hectic, and he admitted that he could do with some sleep.

I offered him my bed as it was the only had one in the apartment. With a
smile he asked if he would be safe using it. I jokingly replied that as he
was obviously a lot more powerful than me, rape simply would be out of the
question. He had a shower and emerged from the bathroom completely naked. I
almost fainted as I took in this magnificent specimen. He was a solid block
of manhood and had a cock that would make a donkey envious. When he
observed me staring at his uncut tool, he quipped that his butt was huge;
"Because you needed a large hammer to drive a big nail". I just giggled
self-consciously. He presently got into bed and was asleep soon after.

On his rotational shift schedule he was only due back at work on Monday
morning, and I wondered how much I would be seeing of him that weekend. I
popped off to the shops and returned a while later to attend to a few
chores around the apartment. At around 12pm he emerged wearing his boxer
shorts. I had made us a light lunch which we enjoyed with a beer. He was
easy to converse with and we effortlessly chatted about everything under
the sun. He was twenty six years old, and had never been in a serious
relationship. According to him he was always attracted to the wrong guys,
and had only ever had short flings.

He paid me a very nice compliment by saying that my ex, Paul, must have had
rocks in his head. When we moved through to the lounge later he sat next to
me on the sofa. There was an almost uncomfortable lull in our conversation
as he fixedly stared at me. Placing his arm around me he drew me in close
to him. He tilted my head towards him and started kissing me gently. As his
kissing became more intense he pulled my t-shirt off me before pushing me
down on the sofa. He climbed on top of me and kissed, nibbled, and licked
my ears and neck. Wes then stood up, and pulled me over his shoulder before
carrying me to the bedroom.

I was placed on the bed before he pulled the shorts I was wearing off. When
he dropped his boxers, his enormous manhood flexed upon its release. He got
on top of me, and pushed my legs apart with his knees as he continued
kissing me. I was beyond excited, if somewhat nervous about the anal
invasion that I anticipated was to follow. Paul had had the same size penis
as me, and Wes made us look like two twelve year old boys. After quite some
time he finally coaxed me onto my stomach. He moved down my body and
started giving me the most incredible rimming I had ever received.

After five minutes he asked for lubrication, which I fortunately had in a
drawer next to the bed. He gradually applied the lubrication to my
backside, inserting one, then two fingers as he opened me up. He then
generously applied the ointment to his cock. His insertion was slow and
patient, but still hurt like hell. With his body supported on his arms he
skillfully invaded my hole calmly inch by inch. When he had finally
completed his intrusion, he lay still on top of me for a few minutes. The
sensation of his huge cock began to feel incredible after the initial
discomfort wore off.

Once he had ascertained that I was comfortable, he started a gentle pushing
and pulling motion with his hips. The momentum of his action gathered
impetus as he escalated to a more intense thrusting. The sensation was
driving me wild and I started whimpering like a baby. He whispered mild
obscenities into my ears, after which I begged for him to plow me
mercilessly. Lifting himself up onto his arms his cock assaulted me with
force, before he released his slimy discharge into my bowels. I also
ejaculated all over my sheet simultaneously.

Wes did stay the rest of the weekend. We repeated our lovemaking twice more
that Saturday, and three times on Sunday before his departure. I had never
known that sex could scale the heights I had experienced with him. Apart
from the intercourse we also enjoyed each other's company immensely. I was
not sure what would happen going forward, but hoped like crazy that I would
be seeing more of him. I knew that my phone would become the center of my
attention over the following few days.