How many have had sex with a straight boy?

[peterh6308]

I think that would qualify under the adage "Living the dream"

Oh like your not!! lol

 

[mikeyank]

As Peter knows me very well, (too well actually as he loves to use everything against me. lol), he understands that I obsess on straight boys and often fantasize about guys in my real life or who I pass walking down the street or visiting the Statue of Liberty, Central Park, etc. lol

Anyway I posted this this morning on another site and it is not a true story but a story of a true fantasy I had back in 2010, and thought it might be appropriate on this thread.

===================================================

I was looking through some old emails this morning and found this that I had written to my friend about a kid working in the warehouse where I was working and I got turned on reading it again and as I'm not having any real sex these days, this is as close to an encounter that I have to report here.

This is an ongoing situation with me, where I expect no sex, or touching or anything else, but it is an opportunity for me to go back into time when I was managing my old business, where I hired the help, and had many hot fantasy boys working under me, (not literally), in a warehouse situation, where I understand it is all look but don't touch.

I'm currently working in the warehouse, supervising a project of packing orders of books, being shipped to public schools. My company hires temporary help through an agency in Manhattan. I'm currently working with a crew including two cousins who are half Puerto Rican and half Italian. The older one is named Miguel and is 20, lives with his girl up in East Harlem, and has a beautiful face, with a fuzzy black goatee on an otherwise smooth face. He wears a piercing in his right eye brow, and has his hair in a pony tail that he keeps tied tightly behind his head.

It is a hot non air conditioned warehouse, and he wears long shorts, and works in a wife beater that he keeps lifting up to wipe the sweat off his face with, and I see his smooth abs. I cannot help myself and he knows how I can't keep my eyes off his body. He came back from lunch on Wednesday shirtless, and I saw his chest and nipples with a little bit of hair around them. He is a terrific worker, and has an athletic grace about him, as he glides through the warehouse lifting heavy cases of books, packing his orders. I am totally smitten. The reality is I will only know him for a few more weeks on this job. He calls my cell phone to tell me if he's going to be late so we have each other's numbers.

My fantasy is that he calls me on a weekend, and tells me how he sees the way I look at him, and he needs some extra money, (The job at my company pays minimum wage). So in my fantasy, he tells me that he's straight but if I pay him, he will let me suck his cock. And the fantasy goes on where he comes to visit me at my apartment, and I get to touch his smooth muscular body. In fact, I would love to "get him" after work one day, where he has not had an opportunity to shower. He is clean and fresh every morning, and I've never detected any body odor on him even after a long day. But in my fantasy he would remove his shirt and I would use my tongue to lick every inch and crevice of his smooth hard body, working my day down of course to the hidden treasure hiding beneath the waistband of his black silky shorts.

I understand that it is totally inappropriate for me to ever make a move on a guy working for an agency that my company has hired, but he is a bright young man who is very well groomed, and is a terrific worker. I do complement him often on what a great worker he is, and I told him on Friday, if he ever needs a job recommendation, to use me as a reference, and not my company. He can use my cell phone number as a contact number. He has a very deep voice, and he smiled at me and thanks me. My heart melts, when he looks at me and smiles at me. But I will not jeopardize my job to make any kind of sexual move, but he sure makes the day goes by quickly, and makes me not mind being in the hot warehouse all day.

I wanted to share with you my current obsession. Each time I've jerked off over the last few weeks, my fantasies are of my lovely Miguel, who works a few feet away from me each day. I'd sure like to find out what he looks like completely naked, and how his smooth body tastes on my tongue and what his cock would be like in my mouth and what the cum tastes like of my beautiful Miguel.

 

[ScottA]

Mike, I think that's a great fantasy, and one which I -- and undoubtedly lots of others here -- can relate to. The hot straight guy at work who you just can't keep your eyes off and who you fantasize about and jerk off thinking about. And those long shorts you mentioned he wears -- basketball shorts, I think they call them? Freaking HOT.

 

[ScottA]

Everyone be forewarned that this is very long, but I think its a worthwhile read. Remember, I'm a writer by profession, so I tend to go on! Every single word is true.

Okay, so for Mike and inspired by him to write it down, this is my story of my first time and my first time with a straight boy, I hope you enjoy the read!

My first time was twenty-six years ago with a straight boy named Scott B. I was Scott A and he was Scott B! I knew Scott from work – his family owned a restaurant where I was employed as a chef. There were eight or nine years between Scott and I – I was 26 and he was 18, but our birthdays fell within three or four days of each other. Scott was of Irish ancestry and looked it – he was small – maybe 5’6”, and slightly built (“wiry,” I guess) with black hair and pale porcelain skin, these dark piercing eyes and an impish grin that stretched across his whole face when he smiled. He was baby-faced and probably didn’t shave then but once a week. Scott’s family obviously was well off, but he wanted to be a bad boy. This was in the late 80s, and Scott was all about the punk and new wave scene. I’d been into that stuff from the beginning in the late 70s/early 80s, so I’d done my thing already. But it was one of the things we had in common. Scott liked to wear this leather jacket and ripped jeans, mousse his hair up, wear a dangly earring and sunglasses – the whole MTV poser punk thing. He wasn’t the least bit threatening or bad, but he tried so hard to be! When I first started at Scott’s family’s restaurant he was working in the front of the house as a bus boy, but he ended up getting himself fired because he had an attitude and didn’t get along with anyone out there, so I said I’d take him in the kitchen. We already seemed to connect, so I figured he’d work better with me. I could mentor him. His family, by the way, absolutely loved me for some reason, and I think they were thrilled when I said I’d take him under my wind. He actually blossomed in the kitchen and seemed to be much happier. We chatted and listened to a punk & new wave radio station out of Toronto (we’re near Buffalo). Scott’s sister and her boyfriend also worked there, and soon we were a little merry band. The four of us would stay after work and sit at the bar until 4:00am and get hammered (and then all drive home drunk out of our minds, STUPID, but when you are young you don’t think of that stuff!) Scott and I ended up being referred to as “the Scotts.”

I wasn’t out to many people back then. But Scott’s sister and I had a couple mutual friends and they knew I was gay, and told the sister, who told Scott. They didn’t care and didn’t even let on that they knew until I told them. By this time Scott had become very flirty with me and we’d become very touchy – not in a sexual way, but a hand on the shoulder or a pat on the back sort of thing. I was still inexperienced with sex and dating, so I made nothing of Scott’s flirtations. I took them as good-natured clowning around and nothing more. Interestingly, there was a different boy in the kitchen that I was pining over, but he was straight and not the least bit interested, and had told me so to my face when I foolishly professed my love to him a few months earlier. Then one evening I was tired and sore during a really long shift at work and Scott came up behind me and started rubbing my back. I thought it was very sweet and thoughtful, but didn’t think anything else of it, but did catch a glare in the other boy’s eyes. Scott mentioned it later, how the other kid didn’t seem too happy that he had rubbed my back – the other kid who wasn’t interested in my affections. I didn’t know why the other kid would be jealous – he didn’t want me and Scott and I were just friends -- he was straight and I wasn’t interested in him beyond someone to mentor and pal around with.

Shortly after the whole backrub incident, Scott and I went to Toronto for the day to see the city and do some Christmas shopping. On our way there I got up the nerve and told him I was gay. He didn’t say anything, but didn’t seem to care. We had a fantastic day, and then hours later at diner Scott says to me out of the blue, “I already knew you were gay. So-and-so told my sister and she told me.” And that was it. Not much more was said. A few hours after that on our way home Scott says to me, “so, you aren’t bisexual, then?” I answered no, that I was gay. He follows up with “oh, because I’m bi.” That was an interesting turn of events. He’d always had girlfriends whom I knew he was sexually active with, and he had never even pinged to me as gay or bi – I’d had no inclination (again, pretty naïve back then!). When I asked him if he’d ever explored his bisexuality he said no, it was just something he felt. We remained friends, although I don’t know as anything else was ever said about the sexuality thing. Scott still had his girlfriends, and I didn’t think any more about it, and when his best friend who was also working there with us by then also professed to being bi (but never having explored), I just figured it was a “thing” with these guys. Another way for them to rebel against the norm and society.

A few months later, Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Phantom of the Opera opened in Toronto and Scott and I went to see it. We made a royal weekend of it – got fourth row seat tickets, took a limo up and back, had a bottle of Dom Perignon and a box of Godiva chocolates in the limo, rented tuxes for the show, stayed in a suite at one of the finest hotels in the city, ate at one of Toronto’s most exclusive restaurants before the show. After a day of living the lavish lifestyle came our first night. The suite has one kind bed. We both got ready and crawled into bed. He fell asleep but I couldn’t. My mind kept racing, thinking about him lying there next to me. By then I’d recognized the signs – even though they had mostly stopped – and had feelings for Scott. So, in the middle of the night, my heart racing, I shook him awake and started the most awkward conversation of my life. I told him about getting his flirtations and the signs – which he denied giving – and that we obviously had a connection, etc., etc. We talked back and forth for what seemed like forever. He never shot the idea down, so that was encouraging. Then we got into negotiations – if we did this then I couldn’t tell anyone, Scott didn’t want his sister to know, etc. Sure, fine. At that point I just wanted him! But I was sincere. And this goes on. Then he says that we should sleep on it until the next day and see how we feel then. More negotiations. Finally, I said “sometimes you just have to say screw it,” and I rolled over and kissed him.

That was the first time I ever had someone’s tongue in my mouth, and Scott did some crazy, deep tongue kissing! As we kissed I slowly rubbed his chest over his tee shirt. Slowly my handmade its way to his stomach and up under his shirt. His chest was smooth and hairless and felt so warm. I moved my hand down to his stomach. I don’t remember if he had a trail of hair there or not. Then I pulled his shirt off and we kissed more. I continued to caress his chest and stomach, my hand moving up and down, each time going lower until I finally slipped my fingers under the elastic band of his underwear and felt the coarse hair. This was back in the days before metrosexuality and manscaping and the whole plucked chicken look, so he was all natural, although not overly hairy. Heart pounding, I pushed my hand deeper into his briefs (these were also the days before boxers became popular, and everyone still wore plain white briefs). I felt his dick. It was hard and smooth and hot. I wrapped my hand around it and slowly stroked up and down. His sweat pants and briefs soon came off, and there he was, naked to my touch. The room was dark but enough moonlight came in through the windows so that I could see. His smooth, wiry body was pale blue in the moonlight, his erection red and hot. He was about six inches fully erect, and cut. Average but perfect. It was beautiful.

I drew away from his lips and began kissing his neck, and then his chest, moving steadily down to his stomach until his dick was finally in my mouth. I remember being surprised by the taste and feel of it – I don’t know what I expected, but that wasn’t it. My heart was still racing, my head was spinning and I was breathing hard. It took me a few minutes to figure out a rhythm to suck him and breathe without stopping to gasp for air. I licked it and tried to take as much as I could. I remember gagging so I must have taken it all in at one point. But I pushed on. He was very quiet and still. I think he grabbed my head and rubbed the back of my neck as I blew him. Scott eventually undressed me and we flipped into the classic side-by-side 69 position. It tickled when he tried to blow me, and he wasn’t very good at it – I didn’t really get much sensation beyond the tickle, and he only went down a tiny bit. He sucked dick like a typical straight boy! We continued to blow each other and jerked each other off when our jaws got sore. This went on for about an hour. I never did cum – we gave up. Scott came but I hadn’t realized it as it was while I was jerking him. I remember my hand feeling wet, but I didn’t realize at the time why. Then we dressed and crawled back under the covers and went to sleep.

We slept in late so the maid never got the chance to change the bedding, so the next night we slept with the with a cum stain on the middle of the sheet right between us. Scott woke up with raging morning wood, and I offered to blow him but he declined. The rest of the weekend was just as magical, although we didn’t fool around again. I offered again that second night, but he again declined. We didn’t really talk about our dalliance again that weekend, or when we got back. I do remember distinctly that when I took him home his mother was still up and she said “oh, the Cinderellas have returned,” and laughed! I knew that she knew, and I knew that she was okay with it.

Somehow or other the whole restaurant staff soon learned of Scott and my Toronto fling, though, and things got really weird. He had an aunt who was very unhappy and insinuated (or perhaps outwardly accused behind my back) that I had somehow taken advantage of or seduced Scott because of our age difference or my position of authority at the restaurant, or something. Scott was incensed and came to my defense by saying that I was more at risk than he was! I was very impressed. The kid whom I’d had a crush and who had rebuffed my advances was obviously jealous and was very cool toward me thereafter. Otherwise things calmed down although were never the same. Scott and I fooled around three or four more times, but ultimately our friendship ended. After that first night in Toronto the sex was just me blowing him – other than his wondrous kissing and grabbing my head or hair or rubbing my neck while I blew him he didn’t touch me. I got better at blowing him and deep throating him, and he would sit on my chest and face fuck me. Our oral sessions always lasted an hour or more and Scott always came at least twice. The final incident that I remember with great fondness happened at the company Christmas party the following year. Scott and his sister and I were sitting together at the bar, getting hammered, and all the staff around us drinking and eating and chatting. The sister brought up oral sex and asked me about how best to do it or something along those lines! So Scott’s sister and I had this conversation about blowing guys and there’s Scott sitting between us and I look and he has this wide, impish grin across his face and a sparkle in his eye! Scott and I shared a laugh and a knowing look.

Scott and I didn’t fool around after that, and he left the restaurant shortly thereafter and moved to Buffalo to live with the latest girlfriend. I saw Scott once after and then I left his family’s restaurant that summer and went on to run a catering company in Buffalo. A few years later Scott turned up looking for a job so he worked for me again for a short period of time, but the friendship was long over and there was just really bad blood between us. I left or he left or something and we both moved on with our lives and careers. I was still friendly with his family, so they kept me apprised of Scott and his whereabouts from time to time. He lived on a boat in Florida for a while and then after that I don’t know where he went or what happened to him. Until about ten years ago when out of the blue I got a call and it was Scott.

Scott was home visiting his mother and wanted to stop by and see me. I said sure. We hadn’t seen each other in close to sixteen years, so I didn’t know what to expect. I was nervous and felt awkward. He showed up, still looked mostly the same only older. His baby face was gone and he looked weathered. There was also no sparkle in his eye and no impish grin. Scott had become very somber. We had a very cordial visit and caught up on “old times” although IT was never mentioned. Then he got around to discussing his marriage which he was in the process of ending. I’d heard that he’d gotten married but knew nothing beyond that. He told me how miserable he was and how bad things were between him and his wife. And he made a point of telling me that they didn’t have much of a sex life and she hadn’t given him a blow job in over three years. Again, I’m sure I missed the signal because nothing more was made of the statement, but years earlier when we were fooling around he always said I gave him the best blow jobs he’d ever had. I saw Scott again about ten years ago when his grandmother passed away and I went to pay my respects. There was talk of a bunch of us old timers from the restaurant days getting together, but I didn’t go. I had just bought my house and was in the middle of restoring it and moving in – in fact I went to the funeral home in dirty clothes because I was literally at the house working when I heard the grandmother had died and that that was the final day for calling hours.

Scott and I are Facebook friends now. He’s married again and living in the south. We are as close and cordial as most Facebook friends are, so I only see or hear snippets of his life. His second wife is lovely. He owns a home and has a great job. He looks older – well, he would as it’s been twenty-six years. He actually looks remarkably like Anthony Bourdain, the famous chef and travel writer. But that sparkle in his eyes is gone and I haven’t seen a single picture on his Facebook of him smiling, let alone that impish grin. To the best of my knowledge I’m, the only man he ever had any sort of sexual relationship with, and having thought about it over the years I’m not so sure he was actually bisexual as he claimed that night in Toronto so many years ago. I think he was simply curious but truly straight, and saw me as a safe way to experiment with his curiosity. Either that or he’s living a lie and an unhappy life.

 

[stowe1]

Given the particulars of my coming out during a 22 yr marriage, most of the man-man sex I had was with straight/bi guys, usually hustlers, trade, or the occasional escort. Even after I came out, I preferred sex with straight/bi guys because I was use to it; although sex with gay guys did increase significantly just because it was more readily available. In fact the two great male loves of my life were straight/bi. On the Kinsey scale they would both be in the middle with one leaning a bit more to the hetero side and the other leaning a little more to the homo side.

 

[johnny]

I am ashamed to even say it. I came out in San Francisco at 16. And have never had or wanted a straight boy.
There were so many beautiful gay boys. It was like living in a big giant candy store.So why bother.
Didn't even think of straight boys till joining Broke Straight Boys.It was the name that got me.I was curios .I joined and was attracted to so many of the boys.Some of them did seem straight then.
Saw Paul and fell madly in love.Then joined the forum that I grew to Love.
Now I think 90 per cent are gay. And I still have not had a Straight boy .But now I really notice them everywhere
Still have not had one.To much trouble, and I won't pay.for one. But it is fun to read all your stories.
So I must be the only one on the site not to have had a straight boy? So I get to live vicariously through all
of you.lol

 

[mikeyank]

I am ashamed to even say it. I came out in San Francisco at 16. And have never had or wanted a straight boy.
There were so many beautiful gay boys. It was like living in a big giant candy store.So why bother.
Didn't even think of straight boys till joining Broke Straight Boys.It was the name that got me.I was curios .I joined and was attracted to so many of the boys.Some of them did seem straight then.
Saw Paul and fell madly in love.Then joined the forum that I grew to Love.
Now I think 90 per cent are gay. And I still have not had a Straight boy .But now I really notice them everywhere
Still have not had one.To much trouble, and I won't pay.for one. But it is fun to read all your stories.
So I must be the only one on the site not to have had a straight boy? So I get to live vicariously through all
of you.lol

Johnny, you are our "token gay boy" here with no straight boy fantasies or experiences, but from what I've heard you've had quite the gay life and seen it all and done it all, and you have nothing to be ashamed of in this sea of straight boy lovers. In fact, you are my gay hero! lol

 

[mikeyank]

Scott, thank you for that beautifully written, obviously true story of your life and times with Scott B. I had a similar experience with a guy who I think I called Harry here that I've told more than once, and will not go into the details here again, but he was 19 and I was his 31 year old supervisor at a family run business. He was not the owner's son, but the best friend of the owner's son, and we had one magical night in my bed on a very cold winter's night, a few days before I allowed him to stay at my apartment while I was going on vacation to Fort Lauderdale.

The most shocking part of our encounter to me, was his passionate tongue kissing as I had only expected to suck him off, but he was into rather intense kissing, and he also wanted to touch me and eventually he jerked me off after his orgasm in my mouth. He never allowed me to have any sexual contact with him again, but today 35 years later we remain friends, although it has only been a birthday call on his part each year for the last decade or so, and last June when he called me while I was driving home from work, he made reference to my cock sucking abilities, which he is still a fan of. He now has two boys of his own, both teenagers and has a great job and owns a beautiful house in New Jersey.

I can clearly recall being invited to his bachelor party at the New York City strip club, "Scores", probably 20 years ago, and he told me in a private minute that I was and am the only man he ever had any sexual contact with, but he still remembered every minute of it and didn't regret it at all. I always smile when I think of him, and especially that ultra cold night in my bed, kissing and sucking my teenage friend and employee. Thanks Scott for bringing back that wonderful memory.

 

[ScottA]

I'm worried my post is too long, though. Don't know if anyone else is going to read it or care. Maybe I should delete it?

 

[Buckeye1]

I'm worried my post is too long, though. Don't know if anyone else is going to read it or care. Maybe I should delete it?

No, don't delete it. I am not one who reads long ass posts very often, but when I started reading yours, I couldn't stop. Fascinating reading of an apparently true experience. I have had similar experiences and have tried to write about several here on the forum, but my writing is not as professional as yours. Maybe I'll try to share some later. Thanks for your sharing.

 

[ScottA]

No, don't delete it. I am not one who reads long ass posts very often, but when I started reading yours, I couldn't stop. Fascinating reading of an apparently true experience. I have had similar experiences and have tried to write about several here on the forum, but my writing is not as professional as yours. Maybe I'll try to share some later. Thanks for your sharing.

Thanks for the kind words. Yes, every word is true. I found it very therapeutic to put it all down. It made me laugh and smile and it made me cry a little, too.

 

[ScottA]

It is a hot non air conditioned warehouse, and he wears long shorts, and works in a wife beater that he keeps lifting up to wipe the sweat off his face with, and I see his smooth abs. I cannot help myself and he knows how I can't keep my eyes off his body. He came back from lunch on Wednesday shirtless, and I saw his chest and nipples with a little bit of hair around them.

Thought you would especially appreciate these two sites if boys in those long silky basketball shorts turn your crank (like they do mine!):

http://guysinbasketballshorts.tumblr.com
http://bbshorts.tumblr.com

Enjoy!

 

[Spartans987]

Everyone be forewarned that this is very long, but I think its a worthwhile read. Remember, I'm a writer by profession, so I tend to go on! Every single word is true.

Okay, so for Mike and inspired by him to write it down, this is my story of my first time and my first time with a straight boy, I hope you enjoy the read!

My first time was twenty-six years ago with a straight boy named Scott B. I was Scott A and he was Scott B! I knew Scott from work – his family owned a restaurant where I was employed as a chef. There were eight or nine years between Scott and I – I was 26 and he was 18, but our birthdays fell within three or four days of each other. Scott was of Irish ancestry and looked it – he was small – maybe 5’6”, and slightly built (“wiry,” I guess) with black hair and pale porcelain skin, these dark piercing eyes and an impish grin that stretched across his whole face when he smiled. He was baby-faced and probably didn’t shave then but once a week. Scott’s family obviously was well off, but he wanted to be a bad boy. This was in the late 80s, and Scott was all about the punk and new wave scene. I’d been into that stuff from the beginning in the late 70s/early 80s, so I’d done my thing already. But it was one of the things we had in common. Scott liked to wear this leather jacket and ripped jeans, mousse his hair up, wear a dangly earring and sunglasses – the whole MTV poser punk thing. He wasn’t the least bit threatening or bad, but he tried so hard to be! When I first started at Scott’s family’s restaurant he was working in the front of the house as a bus boy, but he ended up getting himself fired because he had an attitude and didn’t get along with anyone out there, so I said I’d take him in the kitchen. We already seemed to connect, so I figured he’d work better with me. I could mentor him. His family, by the way, absolutely loved me for some reason, and I think they were thrilled when I said I’d take him under my wind. He actually blossomed in the kitchen and seemed to be much happier. We chatted and listened to a punk & new wave radio station out of Toronto (we’re near Buffalo). Scott’s sister and her boyfriend also worked there, and soon we were a little merry band. The four of us would stay after work and sit at the bar until 4:00am and get hammered (and then all drive home drunk out of our minds, STUPID, but when you are young you don’t think of that stuff!) Scott and I ended up being referred to as “the Scotts.”

I wasn’t out to many people back then. But Scott’s sister and I had a couple mutual friends and they knew I was gay, and told the sister, who told Scott. They didn’t care and didn’t even let on that they knew until I told them. By this time Scott had become very flirty with me and we’d become very touchy – not in a sexual way, but a hand on the shoulder or a pat on the back sort of thing. I was still inexperienced with sex and dating, so I made nothing of Scott’s flirtations. I took them as good-natured clowning around and nothing more. Interestingly, there was a different boy in the kitchen that I was pining over, but he was straight and not the least bit interested, and had told me so to my face when I foolishly professed my love to him a few months earlier. Then one evening I was tired and sore during a really long shift at work and Scott came up behind me and started rubbing my back. I thought it was very sweet and thoughtful, but didn’t think anything else of it, but did catch a glare in the other boy’s eyes. Scott mentioned it later, how the other kid didn’t seem too happy that he had rubbed my back – the other kid who wasn’t interested in my affections. I didn’t know why the other kid would be jealous – he didn’t want me and Scott and I were just friends -- he was straight and I wasn’t interested in him beyond someone to mentor and pal around with.

Shortly after the whole backrub incident, Scott and I went to Toronto for the day to see the city and do some Christmas shopping. On our way there I got up the nerve and told him I was gay. He didn’t say anything, but didn’t seem to care. We had a fantastic day, and then hours later at diner Scott says to me out of the blue, “I already knew you were gay. So-and-so told my sister and she told me.” And that was it. Not much more was said. A few hours after that on our way home Scott says to me, “so, you aren’t bisexual, then?” I answered no, that I was gay. He follows up with “oh, because I’m bi.” That was an interesting turn of events. He’d always had girlfriends whom I knew he was sexually active with, and he had never even pinged to me as gay or bi – I’d had no inclination (again, pretty naïve back then!). When I asked him if he’d ever explored his bisexuality he said no, it was just something he felt. We remained friends, although I don’t know as anything else was ever said about the sexuality thing. Scott still had his girlfriends, and I didn’t think any more about it, and when his best friend who was also working there with us by then also professed to being bi (but never having explored), I just figured it was a “thing” with these guys. Another way for them to rebel against the norm and society.

A few months later, Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Phantom of the Opera opened in Toronto and Scott and I went to see it. We made a royal weekend of it – got fourth row seat tickets, took a limo up and back, had a bottle of Dom Perignon and a box of Godiva chocolates in the limo, rented tuxes for the show, stayed in a suite at one of the finest hotels in the city, ate at one of Toronto’s most exclusive restaurants before the show. After a day of living the lavish lifestyle came our first night. The suite has one kind bed. We both got ready and crawled into bed. He fell asleep but I couldn’t. My mind kept racing, thinking about him lying there next to me. By then I’d recognized the signs – even though they had mostly stopped – and had feelings for Scott. So, in the middle of the night, my heart racing, I shook him awake and started the most awkward conversation of my life. I told him about getting his flirtations and the signs – which he denied giving – and that we obviously had a connection, etc., etc. We talked back and forth for what seemed like forever. He never shot the idea down, so that was encouraging. Then we got into negotiations – if we did this then I couldn’t tell anyone, Scott didn’t want his sister to know, etc. Sure, fine. At that point I just wanted him! But I was sincere. And this goes on. Then he says that we should sleep on it until the next day and see how we feel then. More negotiations. Finally, I said “sometimes you just have to say screw it,” and I rolled over and kissed him.

That was the first time I ever had someone’s tongue in my mouth, and Scott did some crazy, deep tongue kissing! As we kissed I slowly rubbed his chest over his tee shirt. Slowly my handmade its way to his stomach and up under his shirt. His chest was smooth and hairless and felt so warm. I moved my hand down to his stomach. I don’t remember if he had a trail of hair there or not. Then I pulled his shirt off and we kissed more. I continued to caress his chest and stomach, my hand moving up and down, each time going lower until I finally slipped my fingers under the elastic band of his underwear and felt the coarse hair. This was back in the days before metrosexuality and manscaping and the whole plucked chicken look, so he was all natural, although not overly hairy. Heart pounding, I pushed my hand deeper into his briefs (these were also the days before boxers became popular, and everyone still wore plain white briefs). I felt his dick. It was hard and smooth and hot. I wrapped my hand around it and slowly stroked up and down. His sweat pants and briefs soon came off, and there he was, naked to my touch. The room was dark but enough moonlight came in through the windows so that I could see. His smooth, wiry body was pale blue in the moonlight, his erection red and hot. He was about six inches fully erect, and cut. Average but perfect. It was beautiful.

I drew away from his lips and began kissing his neck, and then his chest, moving steadily down to his stomach until his dick was finally in my mouth. I remember being surprised by the taste and feel of it – I don’t know what I expected, but that wasn’t it. My heart was still racing, my head was spinning and I was breathing hard. It took me a few minutes to figure out a rhythm to suck him and breathe without stopping to gasp for air. I licked it and tried to take as much as I could. I remember gagging so I must have taken it all in at one point. But I pushed on. He was very quiet and still. I think he grabbed my head and rubbed the back of my neck as I blew him. Scott eventually undressed me and we flipped into the classic side-by-side 69 position. It tickled when he tried to blow me, and he wasn’t very good at it – I didn’t really get much sensation beyond the tickle, and he only went down a tiny bit. He sucked dick like a typical straight boy! We continued to blow each other and jerked each other off when our jaws got sore. This went on for about an hour. I never did cum – we gave up. Scott came but I hadn’t realized it as it was while I was jerking him. I remember my hand feeling wet, but I didn’t realize at the time why. Then we dressed and crawled back under the covers and went to sleep.

We slept in late so the maid never got the chance to change the bedding, so the next night we slept with the with a cum stain on the middle of the sheet right between us. Scott woke up with raging morning wood, and I offered to blow him but he declined. The rest of the weekend was just as magical, although we didn’t fool around again. I offered again that second night, but he again declined. We didn’t really talk about our dalliance again that weekend, or when we got back. I do remember distinctly that when I took him home his mother was still up and she said “oh, the Cinderellas have returned,” and laughed! I knew that she knew, and I knew that she was okay with it.

Somehow or other the whole restaurant staff soon learned of Scott and my Toronto fling, though, and things got really weird. He had an aunt who was very unhappy and insinuated (or perhaps outwardly accused behind my back) that I had somehow taken advantage of or seduced Scott because of our age difference or my position of authority at the restaurant, or something. Scott was incensed and came to my defense by saying that I was more at risk than he was! I was very impressed. The kid whom I’d had a crush and who had rebuffed my advances was obviously jealous and was very cool toward me thereafter. Otherwise things calmed down although were never the same. Scott and I fooled around three or four more times, but ultimately our friendship ended. After that first night in Toronto the sex was just me blowing him – other than his wondrous kissing and grabbing my head or hair or rubbing my neck while I blew him he didn’t touch me. I got better at blowing him and deep throating him, and he would sit on my chest and face fuck me. Our oral sessions always lasted an hour or more and Scott always came at least twice. The final incident that I remember with great fondness happened at the company Christmas party the following year. Scott and his sister and I were sitting together at the bar, getting hammered, and all the staff around us drinking and eating and chatting. The sister brought up oral sex and asked me about how best to do it or something along those lines! So Scott’s sister and I had this conversation about blowing guys and there’s Scott sitting between us and I look and he has this wide, impish grin across his face and a sparkle in his eye! Scott and I shared a laugh and a knowing look.

Scott and I didn’t fool around after that, and he left the restaurant shortly thereafter and moved to Buffalo to live with the latest girlfriend. I saw Scott once after and then I left his family’s restaurant that summer and went on to run a catering company in Buffalo. A few years later Scott turned up looking for a job so he worked for me again for a short period of time, but the friendship was long over and there was just really bad blood between us. I left or he left or something and we both moved on with our lives and careers. I was still friendly with his family, so they kept me apprised of Scott and his whereabouts from time to time. He lived on a boat in Florida for a while and then after that I don’t know where he went or what happened to him. Until about ten years ago when out of the blue I got a call and it was Scott.

Scott was home visiting his mother and wanted to stop by and see me. I said sure. We hadn’t seen each other in close to sixteen years, so I didn’t know what to expect. I was nervous and felt awkward. He showed up, still looked mostly the same only older. His baby face was gone and he looked weathered. There was also no sparkle in his eye and no impish grin. Scott had become very somber. We had a very cordial visit and caught up on “old times” although IT was never mentioned. Then he got around to discussing his marriage which he was in the process of ending. I’d heard that he’d gotten married but knew nothing beyond that. He told me how miserable he was and how bad things were between him and his wife. And he made a point of telling me that they didn’t have much of a sex life and she hadn’t given him a blow job in over three years. Again, I’m sure I missed the signal because nothing more was made of the statement, but years earlier when we were fooling around he always said I gave him the best blow jobs he’d ever had. I saw Scott again about ten years ago when his grandmother passed away and I went to pay my respects. There was talk of a bunch of us old timers from the restaurant days getting together, but I didn’t go. I had just bought my house and was in the middle of restoring it and moving in – in fact I went to the funeral home in dirty clothes because I was literally at the house working when I heard the grandmother had died and that that was the final day for calling hours.

Scott and I are Facebook friends now. He’s married again and living in the south. We are as close and cordial as most Facebook friends are, so I only see or hear snippets of his life. His second wife is lovely. He owns a home and has a great job. He looks older – well, he would as it’s been twenty-six years. He actually looks remarkably like Anthony Bourdain, the famous chef and travel writer. But that sparkle in his eyes is gone and I haven’t seen a single picture on his Facebook of him smiling, let alone that impish grin. To the best of my knowledge I’m, the only man he ever had any sort of sexual relationship with, and having thought about it over the years I’m not so sure he was actually bisexual as he claimed that night in Toronto so many years ago. I think he was simply curious but truly straight, and saw me as a safe way to experiment with his curiosity. Either that or he’s living a lie and an unhappy life.

great post Scott - thank you for sharing, it was enjoyable to read. Like you I like to talk about my experiences and share so it makes me feel less awkward about sharing when you do

 

[Spartans987]

Thought you would especially appreciate these two sites if boys in those long silky basketball shorts turn your crank (like they do mine!):

http://guysinbasketballshorts.tumblr.com
http://bbshorts.tumblr.com

Enjoy!

I checked out those sites - nice! thank you for sharing

 

[ScottA]

great post Scott - thank you for sharing, it was enjoyable to read. Like you I like to talk about my experiences and share so it makes me feel less awkward about sharing when you do

There should be no need to feel awkward about sharing these stories (my only concern was the length and not what I said). I've been really surprised at the number of you who have told me you have similar stories or that my story brings back memories of an encounter of your own. Good, bad, or otherwise, these are the events that shaped us into who we are now. I wouldn't change a thing even if I could (well, I'd probably increase the number of encounters I had with Scott B, but otherwise nothing would change!).

 

[betudidntknow]

Thanks for the kind words. Yes, every word is true. I found it very therapeutic to put it all down. It made me laugh and smile and it made me cry a little, too.

It was very nice of you to share your story and I compliment you on your writing skills. Felt like I was reading a short "professionally written" story. I enjoyed the little journey and as you say, writing things out can be very therapeutic.

Again, thank you for the share

 

[Beth]

Thanks ScottA, that was a wonderful "remembrance of the good times."

 

[ScottA]

It was very nice of you to share your story and I compliment you on your writing skills. Felt like I was reading a short "professionally written" story. I enjoyed the little journey and as you say, writing things out can be very therapeutic.

Again, thank you for the share

Thank you so much. I am a professional writer, BTW, so I hope that doesn't make you think less of my story, lol! It was all true. I have another one I'll post soon.

 

[ScottA]

Thanks ScottA, that was a wonderful "remembrance of the good times."

Thank you. It was nice remembering it and putting it on paper since it first happened 26 years ago. The time has given me clarity and a maturity to be able to tell the story without making good guys and bad guys. It just was what it was.

 

[betudidntknow]

Thank you so much. I am a professional writer, BTW, so I hope that doesn't make you think less of my story, lol! It was all true. I have another one I'll post soon.

Not at all! It was just easy to read and had a nice flow! A well written true story! Look forward to your next one