Sex in the Sky

Meeting his old gym teacher was a learning experience.

I was 19 years old when I returned home from college in the summer of 1976. A lot about me had changed in the nine months I had been away, both physically and emotionally.

Leaving home the previous August a pudgy kid who had spent his teenage years unsuccessfully chasing girls, I was now a fairly well built young man who had discovered a new world when seduced by an older man, and had enjoyed several other relationships with men during that freshman year at college.

Now I was back home, where finances were to force me to stay for the rest of my education, and eager to continue to explore my new found desires.

His training continues.

If you have been following my story, you now know that my friend’s Dad had been having his way with me. Since he caught me snooping around his bedroom, he had used me to please himself for the last hour or so. From what he had made me do so far, I got the feeling that he was training me for a long term position in his life, instead of just using me for a quickie.

I had always sensed that he seemed lonely since becoming a widower and that he was missing that passionate sexual release in his life. I guess he intended on making me his sexual relief companion for the future. I hoped this was his plan. If this was to be my position, well, I really liked my role so far.

Old tennis era leaving its mark on the new.

It was when I threw a match in the third round of the U.S. Open that I fully realized I was obsessed by him. I wasn’t afraid of going up against the young Miguel Herrera—the heartthrob of the tennis world groupies they had nicknamed the Argentine Firecracker. I had beaten him all three times we had met on the pro circuit the last two years. It was because I knew I was aging out of the circuit just as he was coming into his own here that I had thrown that match. We were both winning and might meet in the fourth round, and I couldn’t have that. I couldn’t be sure I’d win this time.

Man finds out he’s gay & finds happiness.

Steve looked at his watch as he sat at the table in the coffee house sipping a cup of coffee. It was Friday afternoon, the weather was cold, windy and a slow cold drizzle was coming down. It seemed to symbolize the way his week had gone. First his girlfriend of two years had decided to break off their relationship because she wanted to see other guys. He found out later that she had been seeing another guy for two months and everyone else knew about it except him. Next, the guys in the office had heard about his girlfriend and added salt to the wound. They gave him a business card for a massage parlor called the Loving Hands. They told him that he could always get a girlfriend there that would always please him for a few dollars.

Man gets over his fear of flying in an unusual way.

“You “what?!”"

The flustered woman behind the counter gave me an apologetic look. “I’m terribly sorry, sir. These things happen every once in a while. A mistake must have been made when your flight was being booked. Maybe they accidentally put you on standby, or something.”

I shifted my bag to my other shoulder and took a deep breath, trying to control my anger. “Look…” I glanced at her name tag, “…Amy, I really don’t care how it happened. All I know is that I have a connecting flight to catch in Denver that leaves in four hours, and you’re telling me that my seat was given away?!”

Real love is more that three little words.

“Just kill me and get it over with,” I thought as the pounding echoed again. I blinked a couple times, rousing myself awake enough to realize that the pounding was not in my head. I looked at the clock, thinking, “Who the fuck pounds on a man’s door at one-thirty in the morning?”

I dragged my ass out of bed and shuffled down the hall toward the front door. Staggering, I hopped to my left as a sharp pain jolted up my leg. “Ow! Shit!” I hobbled to the couch, propping myself against the arm as I grabbed my big toe. “Damn bar chairs!” It was my own damn fault. I should have turned on the light.

How nice it can be to suck a fat cock.

Two days after the mutual masturbation we had, someone rings my doorbell. “Who the hell can it be – it’s 10pm!!!” A bit worried and alarmed, I open the door – in front of the door, Mark, obviously embarrassed:

- Can I come in?

- Yeah, sure.

I can see looking at him that his embarrassment had the better of him and he doesn’t know how to start.

- Well? I ask.

- Err… hmmmmm…. Well….. err… I was…. Err…..

I smile at him:

- Mark, you came here so I suck your cock, didn’t you?