It had been an easy night at the restaurant. I play guitar and sing in the corner of the lounge. As gigs go, it's boring, but so very easy. It pays well, they feed me, and I can have a couple of cocktails in the bargain.
The patrons are the upper crust of our small town. They are polite and semi-attentive, and they tip well. That's good as a gig gets around here.
I slid off my stool and dropped the guitar in it's stand. It was Saturday night, and I was done for another week. Time for a last vodka.
I had not noticed that the chef, Damien, was tending the bar until I was already leaning against it.
Damien had a world class smile. It was broad and friendly and toothy.
He lifted a meaty hand over the bar for a handshake, asking, "You want a vodka Rick?"
"Please" I responded gripping his hand firmly.
Damien whipped it up in a second, and moved on to another customer.
I watched him at work. He was tall and overweight, but he carried it well. He seemed solid, not sloppy. He had changed out of the chef's costume and wore dress slacks and an untucked dress shirt. He smelled sophisticated. He was probably wearing more cologne than is fashionable, but it suited him. I liked it. We could use more sophistication in this dusty little town.
I drank pretty quickly, as I still had to pack up my gear. I found myself watching Damien.
'GAYmien' is the unkind nickname he had in town. He was one of only a couple of openly gay men of whom I was aware. Because of this, I found myself fascinated with him. I was relaxed after the night's work and probably a little buzzed from the drink. I stopped myself from staring, and got after the job of moving my equipment out to my car.
The phone woke me Sunday morning. I had been sleeping in. It was Damien. What the fuck.
He said, "Hey Rick, come on over to my house for an early dinner this evening."
I was caught off guard. "uhhhhhhh... OK," I blurted.
"Five o'clock?" He said. "Five o'clock." I echoed.
"Great!", Damien said. "It's a date".
I said, "OK, see you then."
"No..." Damien continued, " I mean, it's a DATE." He emphasized the word.
"Ohhhhhh, wow, uhhhhh," I stuttered.
Damien laughed and said, "Don't be late." He added, "OH... you ARE single, right?"
I admitted that I was, and I ended the call saying, "See you in a few hours."
There it was. I had just agreed to have a dinner date in the home of a gay man.
I certainly was not looking for a homosexual affair, but neither can I say I was against one. My sexual orientation is confusing, especially to me.
There was something about Damien. He was self possessed and confident. He was a member of an 'opposite sex' in a way. I wanted to get to know him better. I found his homosexuality to be forbidden fruit, and very intriguing.
A date with a man was taboo for me. Pushing past these social rules was tantalizing, and interesting, with a hint of risk.
I arrived at Damien's house right on time. He only lived a few blocks away. I drove, but could have walked. Damien met me at the door with and handed me a glass of pino grigio, my favorite.
Dinner was served. A small fresh salad, baked fresh salmon and broccoli... just as fresh. We made small talk about the weather, and I of course complimented the chef. We finished the light meal quickly, refreshed our wine and left the dishes on the table.
I was relaxed from the wine. Damien motioned me to follow him through sliding glass to the his back deck. We watched the sun setting behind the mountains. Damien produced a joint from somewhere. He lit it and took a couple of leisurely hits, then passed it to me.
We sat in the comfortable deck chairs and admired the view.
"So, you've been with a man before? Did you like it? Are you gay?" Damien spouted these questions rapidly.
I chuckled. "Yes, I liked it, a lot. I don't think I'm gay though. I'm not sure I'd like being 'out'. The social atmosphere in this little town far from progressive. There are many right wingers here, and a many conservative christians."
Damien wagged his wine empty glass. "Let's have another sip," he said.
We went back in the house and my host turned his back to me as he poured the wine. Still turned away from me, Damien appeared to be adjusting his belt. When he turned back to me, his penis was visible, and VERY erect standing out from his open fly. Damien wasn't huge, but his cock was certainly above average and had a handsome upward curve.
I was mesmerized by the sight of him. I stared at his sex, frozen in place.
"Why don't you suck my cock?" he asked softly.
I dropped to my knees, grasped his member and wrapped my lips around him gently. He smelled and tasted wonderfully. His penis felt so good in my mouth. Damien moaned appreciatively. I sucked and licked and kissed his member. With every passing second I became more turned on. I gave myself to the cock lust I was feeling. I took him from my mouth and stroked him gently, admiring the beauty of his shiny, erect rod.
"I was right about you." Damien said as he looked down at me and smiled. I can imagine what I looked like, eyes glassy, my mouth open, my lips smeared with saliva and pre cum.
Damien pulled me to my feet, wrapped me up and kissed me. His mouth was as delightful as his penis. I kissed him back, lost in lust. I felt his erection, urgent against my stomach.
We kissed and kissed. Damien ran a hand through my hair and guided my head as we made out.
He pushed back just a little and expertly used both hands to open my jeans. He pulled my pants and underwear down to the middle of my thighs. My hardon sprung forward proudly. Damien collected both our cocks in his two hand and rubbed us together as he kissed me again.
Damien went to his knees, and engulfed my penis. He swallowed me, all of me, every inch. His hands went around me and grabbed the cheeks of my ass. He pulled me even deeper in to his mouth and held me there. He was expert. His fingers crawled towards each other, moving to the cleft of my cheeks. Still sucking, he spread me and he touched my hole purposefully.
