This true story is dedicated to my wife, "To all those blow jobs she never gave me, I experienced them outside of our marriage."
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There have been events in my life that stand out and no matter how long ago, I can remember them with exact clarity. Every detail, moment by moment and word for word as in this account. This event occurred many years ago, before the dreaded AIDS virus claimed so many creative men.
It was a Wednesday evening and it was my wife's turn to host her bridge club at our house. Not wanting to be home with a house full of women, I decided to go to a movie.
After buying my ticket, I was walking across the lobby toward the entrance way to the darken theater, when I saw a gentleman standing near the entrance. He was well dressed, in a suit with white shirt and tie. I thought that perhaps he was the theater manager. He was about two inches taller than my five foot, ten inches and he seemed to be about ten to fifteen years older than my forty-two years. He was a handsome man, with a full head of salt and pepper hair, with a matching mustache, well trimmed.
As I walked toward him, he began smiling as if he knew me. I smiled back as I turned and entered the darken theater. I walked down about five rows and then turned into a row and sat about four seats in. As it was a Wednesday night, there was hardly anyone in the theater.
Just as my eyes became accustomed to the dark, the gentleman appeared at my row and walked up to me, asking if I would mind if he sat in the seat next to me. I answered him saying, "No, of course not" and he sat down placing his hand on the arm rest. When he did, I noticed his manicured finger nails.
Then I felt his knee press against mine. I did not pull away and just felt the warmth between our knees. Then his hand moved down onto my knee and slowly slid up the inside of my thigh which caused me to get an erection. His hand soon found it.
I snaked my hand under his arm and felt him in the same manner. Feeling through the material of his pants, I could feel his large erection and I whispered to him, "Do you have a place where we can go?"
"I have an apartment about five miles away, if you want to follow me."
I whispered back, "Let's go," and we got up to leave. I followed him out of our row and when he got to the aisle, he stepped back and waited for me to pass in front of him, much like a gentleman does for a woman.
When we got to the exit door of the theater, he opened it and held it open for me. He walked me to my car and told me to wait there, while he got his car, so I could follow him.
In the parking lot of his garden apartments, he helped me out of my car and walked me with his hand on the small of my back to the door of his building. He unlocked the door and again held it open for me so I could pass in front of him as he said, "Just up these stairs."
I walked up the flight of stairs to a landing where he unlocked the door to his apartment and held it open for me. The apartment was well appointed and very neat. I complemented him and he said, "Thank you. I have a woman who comes in five mornings a week and straightens up for me. It's a lot cheaper than getting married. Let me take your jacket and I'll fix you a drink. I'm going to have a scotch and soda. What can I get you?"
"I'll have a soda."
"I have Coke, ginger ale or club soda."
"A Coke would be fine," I answered. We stood in the kitchen talking about our jobs as I watched him prepare our drinks. Then we moved into the living room and he indicated to the couch for me to sit. It was soft, luxurious and very comfortable as I sunk into it.
He excused himself for a minute, went into his bedroom and came out holding a pair of slippers. He sat down next to me and untied his shoe laces, taking off his shoes, he put on his slippers saying, "I just need to get comfortable."
He left his tie on and I thought that was odd. The first thing I would take off to get comfortable, would be my tie.
His name was Brian and he was an accountant. I asked him if maybe he could do my taxes. He laughed saying that he was not that kind of accountant. That he worked in M and As, mergers and acquisitions. Two years ago he moved into this area from Denver. I told him of my job and life as a married man with children. We were having a good conversation and getting along well. I was saying something to him, when he took my drink from my hand and placed it on the coffee table in front of us. He then leaned in and kissed me on my lips.
How gross, I thought to myself as he was kissing me. A man kissing a man. I was shocked. He was kissing me and I could feel his mustache pressing into my upper lip. I thought to myself, "How revolting. I've never in my life kissed a man on the lips. How disgusting is this."
He broke the kiss and studied my face for my reaction. We said nothing. He was just studying my face for an expression. I wasn't angry but I felt violated. Looking deep into his eyes, I could see a kind person. He lives alone and must be lonely. He seems to be so considerate, so sensitive and so gentle. How could I do or say anything that would hurt him?
He leaned in to kiss me again and something changed within me. I let him. This time I kissed him back. I pressed my lips to his. I responded like a woman. I felt like a woman. I placed my hands around the back of his neck and pulled him to me, just like a woman. I felt his tongue touch my lips and I opened my mouth. His tongue darted into my mouth and I started sucking it. His hands were all over me, undressing me and I was helping him.
When he had me completely nude, we continued kissing. He kissed my neck, my shoulder and then he started sucking my nipple, just like I would do to a woman. My erection was straining and I couldn't wait to get it in his mouth. I applied pressure to the back of his head, to push him down to my cock but he resisted.
I was completely nude and he was fully dressed, I kissed him again only this time, I reached for his belt buckle. I wanted to get him nude so that we both would be equal. I felt his hand on mine and he stopped me saying, "We'll get to that in a moment," then he whispered, "And you'll love it."
Now that we were intimate, his style of conversing changed. He spoke in a slow, soft, sensual almost hypnotic tone and after he would say something, he would then whisper a comment. It was almost like he was talking to my conscious mind and whispering to my subconscious.
He took a sip of his drink and then turned sideways to me, so he was now facing me. After studying my face for a few moments, he began, "When I see a young man that I want, I have to work pretty hard at getting him up here to my apartment but you, you were very easy, almost too easy. In fact, when you were following me here, I started to get concerned, that maybe you were going to hustle me."
