Chapter 1

In college I had a female friend named Kristin, who everybody thought I was dating, and believe me at the time I wished I had been-- but I was just one of the many guys she kept around her, thanks to being a stacked blonde.

A casual friend of mine from one of my classes named Steve was quickly becoming her latest admirer, I thought. One night we all went out for drinks, and I happened to grab a kind of fedora hat that Kristin had and started joking around with wearing it in a Truman Capote-Quentin Crisp kind of way. I wasn't really making fun of gays, well I was a bit but not maliciously, it was more playacting than anything else. At one point I made some kind of pretend come-on to Steve, and though I quickly laughed it off, there was a definite moment there where the idea seemed to be in the air, and Steve's reaction seemed anything but hostile. Kristin seemed oblivious, thankfully.

I soon forgot all about that, but one Saturday night I was home watching Saturday Night Live when there was a knock at my apartment door. To my surprise it was Steve with a six-pack, and I invited him in. We chatted for a bit as the show played, sitting on the floor against my bed. He told me that he had gone to see Kristin the night before, to try to get her to quit jerking him around and either commit to going out with him or not. I knew where this was leading and there was little that I could say; if I explained the truth, that she liked to string guys along and he might as well give up now, it would inevitably be interpreted as me trying to reduce the competition for her favors. (At least I'll say this for myself, I was one of the few who ever gave up early on and didn't make too much of a fool of myself pursuing her.)

He expressed his frustration with her over his first beer, and most of a second, and then he grew silent. The show ended and he seemed kind of restless. I started flipping channels, and he said, "Well, now what are we going to do."

I didn't have cable, so TV's options were exhausted pretty quickly. "I don't know," I said. He was quiet, too, and honest to God, I was still clueless about why he had shown up at my door one night after finding sexual frustration at Kristin's. "We could go out to a bar or something," I offered.

"Yeah, I guess," he said, but didn't make any move to get up. Okay, maybe by now it was starting to dawn on me. "Well, it's late, maybe I better go," he said, and this time he did start to get up.

"Did you..." I started to say something, but then I wasn't sure what. He was hot for Kristin, he couldn't be thinking-- and besides, he knew my girlfriend Maura, there was no reason for him to think that I-- other, that is, than the fact that I'd come on to him. Suddenly, the idea sent butterflies through my stomach.

Maybe a little background is in order. I had never had sex with a guy, and I'd had several girlfriends in college. But the idea didn't freak me out, either-- in fact, I was curious enough, open enough to experimentation, and I had even toyed with the idea of picking somebody up in the well-trafficked restrooms in the student union, where glory holes had been carved in the stalls for decades. Toyed with it in my anything-goes jackoff fantasies, that is, but never seriously considered it in the light of day. Since Steve had never given any overt signs of being gay, I'd never looked at him that way, though the fact was, to a full-time gay man I think he'd have been pretty cute-- tall, rangy, blond and kind of droopy-eyed in a Nordic way. Now, suddenly, I was looking at him that way, and the thought was occurring to me-- did I want to fuck a guy? This one in particular? Well, actually, why not. If, that is, it was what he wanted to do.

"What?" he asked, and now he was staring at me earnestly. I thought we were going to have to have a whole conversation about it, but as my experience since then has taught me, you almost never do. There just comes a point where you're two guys looking at each other like two guys who aren't going to have sex don't look at each other.

My throat dried up, but I got it out. "You don't have to go," I said. "You could... stay."

"The night?" he asked.

"Yeah," I croaked out, and now I reached out and grabbed his hand. That seemed kind of silly, schoolgirlish, and so I started rubbing his leg in his jeans. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me toward him, and then he pulled his shirt off. I did the same and then we embraced. I liked the feel of his hard chest against mine and after nuzzling cheeks for a moment it seemed like the thing to do was to kiss him. It clearly surprised him, though. I didn't know that a lot of gay guys don't kiss, so I just forced my tongue into his mouth and we were soon sucking each other's tongues as I ran one hand up over his flat stomach, rubbing his nipples, and used the other to massage a rapidly hardening place in his jeans. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do," he whispered to me.

"I'll keep that in mind," I said, as I moved down to lick his nipple. We were going to do something I'd wanted to do for a long time. Actually, it had long been my thought that if I ever ended up in bed with a guy, I would want to suck him off first, just in case my enthusiasm for the whole idea dissipated once I came. So I nuzzled the hard place straining inside his jeans as I popped the button and unzipped it. His white cotton underwear immediately sprang up at me, and I took in a whiff of summer sweat and heat cooped up in his jeans. Well, we can do something about that, I thought, and I yanked his shorts down below his balls and ass.

It kind of took my breath away, being face to face with a cock like that, the thin shaft straining up at me and the lazy balls rolling away. He looked at me to see what I would do next and so I thought, here's where we separate the men from the boys, and stuck my tongue out and bobbed the end of it with my lips. It twitched in my mouth and I knew I wanted more, so juicing my mouth up I started lubing his shaft, taking a little more in with each up-and-down until I felt the head sliding all the way against the back of my throat and my nose was nuzzling in his scratchy fur.