"Ohhh, yesss...that is sooo nice...your hands are sooo magical," I heard Terry the Towel Boy say to someone.
I craned my neck to peer between two bodies and saw Willie Mumphrey, an aide to Congressman Hecker, showing one of his drawings to Terry.
The Congressman himself immediately joked, "Yes, and his hands sketch very well, too!"
I had seen those drawings myself. He specialized in sketching hugely grotesque cocks with impossibly massive balls hanging below. I thought them more disturbing than erotic.
I went about my business of replacing used, wet towels with clean, dry ones. I found myself humming a favorite song and smiled. The previous evenings dinner with Andy had given me a warm after-glow in which I was still basking.
Dinner with Andy was like being with a friend I had known forever. Our conversation was never forced; our words flowed freely, and I was relieved to find him less shy, and more outgoing than our previous encounters at the gym.
Perhaps the two orgasms I'd given him earlier that day had something to do with it, ha-ha-ha...
After we had our Tortellini soup, and waited for the Veal Scallopini to arrive, Andy rested his arms on the table as he spoke.
"You know, John, I envy you," he said wistfully.
I placed my hands on top of his to see his reaction, then softly laughed and said, "Envy me? Why would you envy me?"
He remained calm. He didn't pull his hands from mine, or look nervously around the room to see if people were watching us. His acceptance of this small show of public affection thrilled me.
"You seem so comfortable being who you are - even happy," he said.
I saw a troubled look in his eyes and instinctively knew he was consumed with conflicting emotions bubbling beneath the surface of his heart and mind...he is me - at least the way I used to be before I came out of the closet.
He continued: "Obviously I must be gay...but it's something I haven't been able to understand...I think I work long hours so I won't have much personal time to deal with it...how do you do it? Is there some secret I don't know about?"
I squeezed his hands then pulled mine away. There was no point in belaboring the affection and make him feel embarrassed.
"Andy, it wasn't too long ago I felt the same as you...you grow up thinking these strange feelings you have is just a passing phase...that some day you'll meet the woman of your dreams - marry - settle down and have kids like normal people...you date women you're not attracted to just so your friends and family won't think there's something wrong with you..."
He nodded solemnly. "I know...there were two girls in my past I went with for a couple years each...I had to force myself to make love to them...for awhile I fooled myself into believing I enjoyed it, but it didn't take long to lose interest...in the end, I am sure both girls knew I was gay before I did."
"And you weren't very happy, were you?" I asked.
"No...I was just going thru the motions...like you said, I was doing what was expected of me," he replied.
"Andy, I really don't know how other gay guys deal with their situations. I think it's different for everybody...in my case, I was so embarrassed of my feelings for men I had to move away from the city I grew up in so my friends and family wouldn't find out I'm queer."
"Do they know it now?" he asked.
"Yes, they do...the funny thing is, as it turned out, most of them did think I was gay but never said anything - they didn't care...sometimes our own minds create problems that aren't there."
Andy flashed me a wide grin and said, "You know, John, sometimes you sound so wise that it's hard to believe I'm twelve-years older than you."
I smiled and said, "You are only as old as you feel in your heart...anyway, I love hot, old guys like you..."
We were both quietly smiling and laughing when our meals arrived.
Dinner was scrumptious! We ordered two Amaretto's afterwards and sipped our drinks as we casually chatted.
We had been sitting directly across from one another, but I moved my chair next to his so I wouldn't have to talk so loud.
"Andy, there is something I need to speak to you about," I said.
"Oooo, it sounds serious," he replied.
I leaned over, placed a hand on his upper leg, and said, "It is serious..."
He furrowed his brow and said, "What is it? I hope you know you can talk to me about anything - I am here for you, John."
Oh my goodness - his answer and concern warmed my heart - I felt so close to him I knew I could say anything to him.
"There is a rule at work that forbids us from dating our clients..." I said.
"We're only having dinner..." he said.
"I know, but if my boss finds out I was here with you he could fire me," I explained.
"I certainly won't tell him we shared our meat with each other," he said with a smile trying to lighten the mood.
When I gave him a slight frown he added: "John, I'll quit going there if that's what it takes - I can always find another gym."
It was the answer I was hoping for. "Andy, I like you - I like you a lot...it's just that, well, I'm wondering what you want out of this...I know you don't have much experience with, uh, being gay, and I can't help but wonder..."
Now I became the shy one. I couldn't look at him when I asked, "I can't help but wonder if I'm a 'fling' to you...or if you think we might have something real here?"
He didn't immediately answer and I became uncomfortable with the silence so I squeezed his leg. We stared into each others eyes. More silence...instead of removing my hand, I began to slowly rub his thigh, my hand stopping just short of his crotch.
I couldn't take the tension I was feeling any longer so I said, "I've had a great time tonight...you're fun and so easy to talk with it seems like we're old friends..."
He suddenly broke his silence. "John, I, uh, I'm not sure how to answer your question...I like you, too - I love being with you...this is all so new to me I've got a million thoughts running thru my head...I do want to see more you-"
I interrupted him. "Let's talk about this another time...it's not fair to put pressure on you...I want to see more of you, too...let's just keep it at that for now," I said then lightly brushed the crotch of his dress slacks with the palm of my hand. Sure enough, he was hard as a rock.
"Maybe we can finish this conversation in the backseat of my car?" I asked with a coquettish smile and a squeeze of his erection.
His eyes glazed over. I saw beads of perspiration on his forehead.
He coughed and replied, "Uh, yeah, uh, that would be nice..."
I boldly grasped his cock below the table, squeezed it harder and said, "I'll make it more than just 'nice' for you."