Date: Wed, 23 Oct 2002 05:41:10 -0700
From: JS Collection <js.collection@verizon.net>
Subject: Dining Alone 5

THIS STORY IS TOTALLY FICTITIOUS. IT CONTAINS DESCRIPTIVE SEX BETWEEN MEN.
IF THIS IS OFFENSIVE TO YOU GO ELSE WHERE. IF IT IS ILLEGAL FOR YOU TO BE
READING IT, YOU SHOULDN'T BE HERE TO BEGIN WITH, SO JUST GO AWAY. OTHERWISE
ENJOY IT. JWS

    NOTE:This chapter continues with Don's story. It deals with his loave
affair with his father for about three or four paragraphs. If you find
thisnot to your taste skip over it and read on. It is part of who Don is
and to hide it or put the whole story under a different classification is
unfair to him, and the other two characters in the story.


	DINING ALONE (PART 5)
	DON'S TALE
	by J.W.SMITH



	I closed the door to my office and locked it.  I almost felt guilty
not staying and working late.  I needed something to get me out of the rut
I was in.  Nearly every night since my dad's death, I could be found with
my head buried in my work until nine or later. I had no social life
anymore.  I had to, at least, get away from my work and have a good dinner
and relax.

	I went home and mixed myself a scotch and water.  I threw off my
work clothes and put on some cut off sweats.  I sat down at the Bowflex and
studied myself in the mirror.  I looked pretty damned good at thirty-eight
years old.  An odd thought stuck me.

	'There ought to be someone out there that would want me.'

	I had never considered that before. Always there had been my
dad. He had been the only one I had ever been interested in. But he was
gone now and it was time for me to stop mourning. I needed to get out and
start making a new life for myself.

	I worked out for half an hour.  I showered, and dressed casual;
khaki slacks, loafers, and a light weight sweater over a white shirt. I
studied my self in the mirror.  I looked OK. At six foot six with blonde
curly hair cut short, mustache and beard also trimmed close, piercing blue
eyes and dimples when I smiled, I supposed I would draw some attention.

	I went to Grover's, a steak house not far from my house. Dad and I
had gone there often when he was alive.  It was probably my favorite place
in town. When I walked in, the Maitre'd was all big smiles.

	"Good evening, Mr. Thompson, we haven't seen you for awhile. Are
you dining alone tonight?"

	" Hello, James.  Yes, I am."

	"It will be just a few minutes and we'll have you a table."

	As he wrote down my name, I casually glanced at the list of names
and saw Joe Williams' name with a "1" beside it.  I stepped over where I
could see where he was sitting next to the fountain in the center of the
main room.  He was alone.  I had seen his photograph on the dust covers of
the dozen or so books that he had written that I had on my book shelf..  He
was so much more handsome and distinguished in real life.

	Suddenly I was feeling bold.

	"James, scratch my name off your list.  I think I'll join
Mr. Williams tonight."  Was I being insolent imposing on this celebrity and
his solitude?  I watched him a moment.  He looked uncomfortable. He shifted
in his chair and glanced around at the other diners, and then buried his
head in the menu.  I walked over to his table.

	"Pardon me, sir.  I hate eating alone.  You look like you could use
some company, too.  May I join you?"

	He looked up, and then smiled. He looked relieved.


	"Please do."  He stood and offered his hand.  "I'm Joe Williams."
I took it in both of mine.  The electricity that flowed though it made me
forget to let go.  I blushed, as he pulled his hand back.

	"I know who you are, sir. I've read everything you have published.
I'm Don Thompson."

	I was amazed that he was so short for a man with such a commanding
presence.We studied the menus for a moment. The waiter took our orders and
left.

	"OK. You know about me. Tell me about you."

	"I'm an architect and building contractor here in Claremont."

	"Thompson.  That was the name of the construction company that made
some changes on my house when I bought it 16 years ago."

	"That's my company. Well, actually it was my dad's. I was still in
college then."

	We discussed his writings; the novels, short stories and essays. I
told him the ideology he expressed was the way I try to live my life. As we
talked I could see a light turn on in his eyes.

	"Your are trying to tell me your gay, aren't you?"  I grinned and
said, "Yes, sir.  I am."

	I asked him why he was dining alone. He explained that it was
Frank's annual Christmas Party and that he didn't mix his private life in
his business affairs.  I startled both of us with the vehemence of my
response that if he was my partner he would never be left to dine by
himself.  He then asked me why I was by myself.

	I looked away from him. It really ticked me off that I still wanted
to bawl every time I thought about my loss. I apologized to him, and told
him I had lost my partner nearly a year ago. I was caught up in the emotion
when he asked me how long we had been together. Without thinking I
answered.

	 "All my life."  Joe was quiet for a few moments then asked; no it
was more a statement.

	 "He was your father."

	I felt like I had been caught with my pants down. Exposed. Naked. I
glared at him, challenging him to make something of it.  He stared back at
me with humility, kindness and understanding.

	"I remember him." He said.  "He looked very much like you. I
remember watching the two of you, here, dining.  There was so much love
expressed between you."

	I smiled thinking about he times I had enjoyed in my dad company.

	"You want to tell me about him?" Joe asked.

	The waiter delivered our drinks.  I thought to myself; 'This is a
man I can talk to and be accepted by without being judged.'  I looked up at
him as I ran a finger around the top of my glass.

	"How did it happen?"He asked.

	Before I could begin to formulate an answer the waiter interrupted
again, this time setting our salads before us. I relived the events in my
mind like I had so many times since I had lost Dad.  Joe didn't press.  We
both ate several bites before I looked up at him.  His expression was so
gentle and loving that I felt I could tell him my story.  I had never, in
fifteen years, said a word about it to anyone.  I laid my salad fork on the
edge of the plate.  I picked up my drink and took a swallow and set it
down, thinking about where to begin.  I could feel the crystal vibrate with
the friction of my finger moving around the rim.

	"My parents divorced when I was ten.  Dad moved in with my Uncle
John who lived just a couple of blocks from our house.  I lived with my
mom, but spent almost as much time with Dad. One day, I guess I was around
twelve or thirteen, I was let out of school early.  I had to pass Uncle
John's house to get home. I saw Dad's pickup in the driveway, so I went in.
I never knocked.  I heard Dad and John talking in the bedroom. I walked in
and got the surprise of my life.  They were lying naked on the bed, in each
other's arms.  I didn't say anything.  I just stood there and watched,
fascinated.  I got embarrassed hearing them proclaim their love for each
other and left.  They never knew what I had witnessed that day.  I never
told Dad that I had invaded his privacy that day.

	"When I was sixteen, Mom married a man she had been seeing for a
couple of years.  I moved in with Dad then.  Mom didn't object at all.  I
had been working with Dad after school and weekends since I was fifteen.

	I remember lying in bed so many nights, listening to Uncle John and
Dad loving each other. I fantasized a lot about being one or the other of
them.  They never showed their love for each other in front of me, at least
not more than brotherly affection.  I think that no one ever suspected they
were more than two brothers sharing a house.  They were also partners in
the construction company that I inherited.  Uncle John was killed in an
accident when I was nineteen.  Dad took his death really hard.  I think he
might have followed John if I hadn't been there.

	 "I was going to U.C. Pomona.  It was my senior year.  I was
twenty-three.  One hot fall afternoon, I came home early from classes. Dad
was home.  I put my books in my room and went looking for him.  His bedroom
door was open.  I heard him talking to someone.  I thought he was on the
phone.  I stuck my head in to say hi.

	I continued telling Joe how I had become my father's lover. He was
very sympathetic and understanding. He didn't seem to condone or condemn me
for what I had done. I wish that the rest of the world was that
understanding. But they aren't so I will probably never tell another
soul. I ended my tale with:

	"God, how I loved that special smile that was mine alone."

	The waiter chose that moment to set our meals before us. We, both,
had ordered New York steaks, baked potatoes, roasted beets on a bed of baby
greens with Balsamic vinaigrette. Through my telling, Joe had sat there,
his eyes, filled with understanding and sympathy, never leaving my face.

	He looked at his food and then looked up at me and grinned.
Keeping eye contact with him, I sliced a chunk of the rare steak and slowly
put it into my mouth.  I chewed sensuously, letting a bit of the red juice
leak from the corner of my mouth and run down my chin before ever so
slowly, still grasping his eyes with mine, I wiped it off and grinned back
at him.  Brazen?  Yes.  And Joe loved it.

	He raised an eyebrow and repeated the process.  I thought I would
climax in my pants watching him eat that bite of bloody beef.  Grinning at
each other like a couple of fools we ate our steaks and potatoes. When we
hadfinished our meal, I felt like we had just made love.  His smiling face
surrounded by a magnificent halo of white hair and beard, his expressive
green Irish eyes so sparkling clear, his rosy cheeks and nub of a nose
reminded me of an gnome I had believed in as a child.  I wanted to take him
home with me and love him, cuddle and hold him.

	"Joe, would you come home with me for an after dinner drink?"

	I could see him thinking about his partner, his eyes turned
inward. Suddenly he smiled again.

	"Yes, I would love to."

	He followed my bright red Dodge pickup in his old black Cadillac. I
pulled into the drive and jumped out waiting for him.  He parked on the
street. He sat there for several moments, then opened the door and got
out. I could almost hear the debate going on in his mind about whether or
not he should do this. And then he straightened his shoulders and walk
toward me.  I led him into my living room.

	"What would you like to drink, a liqueur, wine, or some hard
stuff?" I asked.

	"Scotch and water would be fine."

	As I mixed the drinks he pulled off his jacket; laying it on a
chair arm and walked around studying the room. I studied him in his fitted
white dress shirt. He was barrel chested with a flat belly. He might come
up to my collarbones. I picked up the two glasses and walked toward him. He
turned and smiled at me as he accepted the drink. I looked in to those
green eyes filled with summer sunlight filtered though leafy bowers. I
wanted to fall into them. I leaned down and kissed him.

	"Joe, I want to take you to bed and love you."

	He studied me intently.

	"Would you be making love to me or to the memory of your dad?

	"To you, Joe. I loved my dad, but he is gone."

	He reached around my neck and pulled my head down.

	"Then do it." He whispered and then kissed me.

	 I took his untouched drink and set it on the coffee table along
with mine.  I unbuttoned his shirt and spread it open. I growled and buried
my face in the thick white hair covering his chest. I nuzzled until I found
his nipple and ran my tongue around the aureole until the nub stood up
hard. I bit it. He arched into me. I backed off, and led him into the
bedroom.

	I undressed him, kissing each part of his body as it was bared, his
shoulders, arms, chest and belly. I knelt in front of him and undid his
belt and slacks dropping them to the floor. I grabbed the waistband of his
boxers and slowly, teasing both of us, pulled them down, all the while
kissing just above the elastic.  I plunged my face into his thick mass of
pubic hair; I rubbed my cheek against his engorged cock.  I nibbled his
ball sack, breathing in his masculine scent.  I spun him around and
massaged his beautiful ass.  I nuzzled the top of his crack and then ran my
tongue down the cleavage.  He shivered.I pushed him gently back on the bed
and removed his shoes and socks.  I kissed each instep and stuck each big
toe in my mouth running my tongue around it. He bucked and squirmed.

	I stood up and backed away from the bed.  I leered at him.  "It's
time to give you a show."  I unbuttoned the top button of my shirt.  I
could hear "The Stripper" in my head.  I started moving to the music.  Joe
piled the pillows and lay back to watch me. I felt kind of silly doing
this, but at the same time very turned on and sexy. By the look on his
face, I knew I was giving him a good show.  I slowly removed my shirt and
unbuttoned my slacks. Slowly gyrating, I dropped them, revealing my long,
hard, muscular, hairy legs.  I wiggled my butt at him.  Ever so slowly,
teasing, I started slipping my boxers down as I bumped and ground my hips.
I turn back to face him.  My shorts were barely exposing the top of my
cock.  I pushed my pelvis forward, undulating, and stretched my arms up,
locking my hands behind my head.  My shorts were tented.

	"Take those damned shorts off and quit teasing me." He growled.
"Get over here."

	I turned my back to him and slid my shorts down, and stepped out of
them and my slacks.  Skipping from one foot to the other, I pulled my socks
off.  I stood up straight with my legs wide spread. I raised my arms
straight out and stood there.  I could hear Joe breathing heavily, nearly
panting. When I turned, he looked almost angry in his lust to get his hands
on my body.

	" Enough."

	He slapped the bed next to him. "Here. Now."

	I grinned at him and jumped on top of him, straddling his
thighs. He drew his breath in sharply as I settled my body on his. He ran
his fingers through the curly light brown hair covering my chest and
belly. I moved to lie beside him. Face to face we explored each other.

	"Man, you are so sexy, Joe, all that white hair and tanned
skin. You nude sunbathe, huh?"

	"I rarely get out in the sun.  The tan is natural.  And you work
out in the sun with your shirt off.  You legs are a white as a
Midwesterners."I leaned forward and kissed him.  I was nibbling, nipping,
and licking every part of his beautiful body.  Joe pushed me onto my back
and crawled on top of me. He did the same to me.  Soon we were on the edge
of climaxing.  We stopped.  We calmed down and then started all over again
building to such a height that when we did finally climaxed we tumbled down
hard.  Exhausted we lay side by side regaining a calm.

	We lay there cuddling and kissing. We did a lot of talking. Joe
told me how he met Frank. It was so romantic, like something out of a
movie; Frank sitting by Joe's bedside day after day waiting for him to come
out of a coma.  Then when Joe finally woke up Frank was there. They had
never met before and they've been together ever since.

	We drove each other to another climax. And got into the shower
together. We didn't get off again, but we sure enjoyed washing each
other. When we got out we dried each other. I wrapped myself in a terry
robe and watched, as he dressed. I think we were both feeling a little
down.

	As he was leaving, he thanked me for the untouched drink.  We had a
laugh at that.  I gently kissed him goodnight and he turned and walked out
the door.I leaned in the doorway watching Joe leave.  He walked slowly,
almost hesitantly.  He didn't look back until he opened his car door. He
looked at me and grinned.  I waved. He ducked into the security of his old
Cadillac, and I closed my door.

	I leaned against the closed door enjoying the last of the euphoria.
Damn, he was such a handsome man.  I had really enjoyed being with him.
The way he could read me was amazing.  The only other person that could do
that was Dad and he had known me since the day I was born.

	I walked across the room and picked up the two untouched glasses,
carried them into the kitchen and poured them down the sink.  I was still
wound up.  It wasn't even ten yet.  I decided to have a drink before going
to bed.  I filled my glass with ice.  I picked up the bottle of Red Label
and a thought hit me right between the eyes.  How was this going to affect
Joe?  He was in a long-term relationship and I had seduced him.  And though
I hadn't raped him, I felt I had certainly ravaged him physically and most
likely, emotionally.

	I poured a drink.  I flipped a switch, turning on the lights in the
back yard and sat down in my favorite chair.  I stared out in to my jungle
and relived the evening.  Joe had been eager to be seduced.  Maybe I was
worrying for no good reason.  I finished off my drink and got up.  I
supposed that the only thing to do was; let things fall as they may and
deal with it then.  I set my glass on the bar turned off the lights and
went to bed.

	I could smell Joe's scent in the room, especially on my pillows. I
was excited again, even after two orgasms that evening.  I jacked off and
fell asleep dreaming about him.

	I woke up the next morning refreshed and eager to meet the day. I
felt alive again.  I had spent the last year in mourning.  I had lived only
to work. Now it was time for change, and finding new beginnings.  Joe was a
start.  I wondered where to go from there.

	 I made a pot of coffee, sat down and stared at the pot as it
perked. I knew about gay bars, but in all my thirty-six years, I had only
been in one while I was in college. I remembered being turned off by the
starving-eyed men.

The pot made its last plip and sighed.  I pour a cup and wandered into the
back yard.  I sat down by the fountain enjoying the splash.

Well, I did have friends, although they were all straight and most of them
were still trying to set me up with a date.  I guess I would just have to
get out and meet other people.  I thought about Joe.  I figured friendship
was out of the question having gone to bed with him. But, still, I thought
I would call him Monday morning and tell him what a great time I had and
that I had really enjoyed meeting him.

I heard the phone ringing.  I set my cup on the bench and raced in to
answer it.  It was Joe wanting me to go over and discuss a construction
project he had in mind. I jokingly ask him if this was an attempt to get me
into bed again.

"No this is a real project. Are you interested?"

"Damn right, maybe it will give me a chance to get you into bed again."  We
laughed.

"So how soon can you come over?"

"Right now?"

"Great, I'll put some coffee on."

When Joe answered the door; I stepped inside, grabbed him around his chest,
lifted him up and gave him a big sloppy kiss.  He became indignant and
demanded to be put down.  I apologized and told him I was just so happy to
see him.  He wanted to get right to business.  So, with a cup of coffee in
hand, we proceeded to his back yard where he explained his ideas.  He got
me a pencil and paper. (I wasn't really expecting this, so I was completely
unprepared) I sat at his kitchen table where I could see the area in which
he wanted a pavilion built and drew a design that he immediately liked.

His phone rang. It was his partner Frank, just checking in. Joe told him he
was planning his birthday gift. He got a kick out of teasing him.

The voice inflections and the smile as he talked, made it apparent that Joe
was very fond of him. I sat there watching him, feeling envious of
Frank. He was smiling as he placed the phone on its cradle.

"You really love him don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

"Would there be room for me?" My mouth said. My brain did a double flip. I
felt like a child that had said something he shouldn't and was about to get
his mouth washed out with soap.  Joe stood there looking at me for several
seconds with out replying.  He then stepped behind me and wrapped his arms
around my neck, laying his chin on top of my head.

"I can't get emotionally involved with you, Don.  Could we just be Fuck
Buddies?"

I hadn't heard that expression before, but I could imagine what it
entailed.  I leaned my head back against Joe looking up at him.

"Fuck Buddies?"

The eternal smile had left his face.

"Sex, no emotional involvement."

I couldn't imagine that.  Not with Joe.  I knew I was dangerously close to
offering him my heart as it was.

"Is that possible?"

He stood there, his arms still around me, studying my upside down face.

"No, it's probably not."

I thought about it, and mentally agreed.

"So what do we do?  It's your call."

Again he took his time before replying.

"No, Don, you are the vulnerable one. It's your call. You have to decide
whether you can do it or not."  He kissed me on my forehead.

I considered the options, life with Joe as a sex partner only, or no Joe at
all. There was no choice to be made.  I grinned at him.

"Fuck Buddies it is then." I pulled him around onto my lap and started
kissing him. It wasn't one sided. We enjoyed ourselves, but I knew deep
down in my psyche, where I didn't think about things, there would be a
problem.  I wasn't having sex with him.  I was making love to him.

Joe decided I should show up the next morning unannounced to go over the
plans for the pavilion with Frank.  I got the feeling that Joe is something
of a prankster.

The next morning at ten sharp I rang their doorbell.  Frank answered the
door in his bathrobe.  His hair was disheveled and he hadn't shaved.  Hell,
it was Sunday morning, and he still was damn good-looking.  He stood just
under six foot.  He had dark receding hair, a neat 1940s mustache, and big
brown eyes under craggy eyebrows.  His nose was long and straight not quite
pointy.  His lips were generous, but on the thin side.  And he had a big
dimple in his strong square chin.  I stood there all shiny clean in a white
tee shirt, faded Levi's and scruffed work boots.  I gave him a big toothy
smile.

"Hi, Frank. I'm Don Thompson."

"What can I do for you?"  He was almost frowning.

"I have an appointment to go over the plans with you and Joe."

"Plans?"

"Yes, sir." When I didn't explain, he looked like he might close the door
in my face, but the he said.

"Come in. We can't just stand here with the door open."  He turned and
yelled up the stairs.

"Joe, get down here."

Turning back, he asked me into the den and to have a seat.  He sat across
the room.  He studied me as I gazed around the room, trying not to look at
his hairy chest or his muscular legs.  My eyes fell on a couple of X-rated
Video boxes on the shelf under the coffee table.  I picked them up and
examined them.  I looked up at Frank.  He had turned dark red.

"It would be fun to watch these with you fellows some evening." I said.
 He glared at my impudence.

"Who are you?"

At that moment Joe entered.  Hearing Frank's outburst, he introduced us to
each other, and then seeing me with the videos in my hand, he asked if I
would like to join them to watch them some evening.  He was grinning,
obviously enjoying Frank discomfort.

"Joe, what's going on here?" Frank demanded. Joe ignored him.

"Come on, let's go out back and discuss how we are going to do this."

We followed him out into the yard.  Frank was delighted with the idea and
agreed it was going to be a nice birthday present. He kept covertly looking
me over. His robe was covering less and less of his body.  At one point in
his animated discussion his robe opened up and exposed his rather excited
state. I tried to act casual about it, but I couldn't help but admire his
physique.

After an hour or so of discussion and changing a few things the two of them
agreed.  Frank asked me to figure a ballpark amount for building the
pavilion.  He invited me back for dinner and videos that night. Joe just
stood back and grinned.  Frank was just as warm and loving as Joe, in
private.

Joe barbequed hamburgers and Frank made a fantastic salad. We sat in the
back yard eating and getting to know each other.  Joe volunteered to
cleanup the kitchen.  Frank thought that was fair and dragged me into the
den and put on the video that he had been so embarrassed about that
morning. We were both sitting there with tents in our laps when Joe joined
us. I think we were more excited watching each other being excited, than by
what was on the screen.  I could tell Joe was just waiting to see which of
us was going to break the ice. I didn't feel comfortable doing it myself,
so I just sat there like a bump.  Finally Frank looked me in the eye and
grinned.

"Looks like you have a problem, Sonny Boy.  Come over here and let me take
care of it."

I looked at Joe. I didn't know what to do. Joe smiled and motioned with his
head for me to go to Frank.  He wrapped his arms around my thighs buried
his head in my crotch. Next thing I knew Joe had his arms around my chest
unbuttoning my shirt. Before I could catch my breath and figure out what
was happening, we were all three naked, on the carpet.

We ended up in their giant bed where we played until we were all
exhausted. I ended up spending the night. There was plenty of room for
three grown men on that bed,

it was so big. Even then, I slept with my feet hanging off the end of it,
like I always did with Dad, my head tucked into Joe's armpit.

The next morning we continued our playing and then showered. That shower
was big enough to hold four grown men. There were two showerheads on the
walls. It only took us about an hour to wash each other, of course that
wasn't all we did. The hot water heater in that house must be huge. The
water never did get cold.

Joe went into the kitchen to prepare brunch.  Frank and I went into the
den.  We were having a difficult time keeping our hands off each other.  We
didn't succeed.  When Joe came in to call us to the table, we were on the
floor, naked, going at it again like a couple of feral cats in heat.  Joe
just stripped his clothes off and joined right in.  We eventually had a
cold lunch and I begged off and went home to recuperate.  They had
completely worn me out.

Those two fellows had lived together for so many years and here they were
starving for love and affection.  What gives?  I didn't know.  I did know I
was willing to give them mine, as much of it as they would accept.