Tim watched his best-friend Kenneth make small talk with the gentleman that leaned against the corner of the bar. He watched the familiar way Kenneth closed the distance between him and his prey. A small smirk rose to his lips as the gentleman reached out and ran a finger down Ken's jaw, before pulling back and smiling a grin that spoke of approval.
"Looks like you and Ken are over," a voice whispered behind Tim.
He turned and felt his chest tightened. The cobalt blue eyes he'd been trying to capture for the past few weeks were finally staring into his chocolate brown ones. Tim swallowed his nervousness and then shrugged his shoulders. "Ken and I split a couple weeks ago."
"You both seem to be doing okay," the man said, claiming a seat next to Tim at the bar.
"Yeah, we are. Our relationship was more friendship than romance." Tim turned in his seat and signaled for the bartender to bring them both a bottle of beer. "Ken and I have been friends for the past thirty years. About a year ago, he lost his partner in an automobile accident and I was between lovers, so it was natural for me to be there for him. Our relationship has always been close, the intimacies were just something that we enjoyed at our own paces, but like I said, it's friendship between us, not love like he shared with Bill."
"Well, it was good he had someone there for him."
"Yeah, he's been there for me too. I'm glad to know he's ready to play the field again."
"And are you?" the man asked. His hand suddenly found a home on Tim's leg.
Tim looked down and then up. "I've seen you in here, but I'll admit my ignorance. What's your name?" He watched a wide smile cross the handsome features of the young man. Tim felt his cock jerk as he imagined that grin looking up at him with his cock resting below the pink-hued lips.
"Hugh," the blonde Adonis answered, extending his other hand, while choosing to leave the one on Tim's leg. "I've been watching you for sometime too, which was how I knew who you were and whom you were seeing. I just didn't know the extent of your friendship."
Tim felt Hugh's firm grip and found himself somewhat startled by the electricity that seemed to shoot from the man's hands and roll itself through his system. Hugh was younger than him, probably by a good fifteen or twenty years, but Tim felt like an inexperienced boy. "Well, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," he said, dropping Hugh's hand and picking up his beer. He drew a long drink from the cold beverage and tried to calm the beating of his heart.
"The pleasure is all mine," Hugh said. His hand moved higher on Tim's bare leg. The Arizona sun beat down on the world around them and Tim thanked the Heavens that he'd worn denim shorts and a tank top when he came to the bar this hot summer night. He opened his legs and glanced sideways at Hugh. His eyes locked with those of the younger man and he saw Hugh's brow lift as if questioning how far Tim wanted the evening to go.
"How old are you Hugh?" Tim asked, moving his hand from the bar down to Hugh's. He covered it with his older and more experienced fingers, squeezed them and then slipped them up higher so they barely touched the hem of his shorts.
"I'm twenty-three. You?" Hugh asked as he took the hint and slid his fingers partway up the denim fabric. His nails scrapped Tim's inner thigh muscles, teasing the skin and gently pulling on the hair.
Tim felt his cock extend another inch and he eyed Hugh cautiously. What was happening to him, he thought to himself as his body began to physically ache from the delicious images that were playing about in his head. "I'm fifty-three," he answered and then added under his breath, "but you're making me feel like I'm a kid with my first hard on."
Hugh chuckled and slid his hand out from underneath Tim's shorts. Tim groaned his disappointment, but then quickly recovered when he saw Hugh stand up and move closer to him. He felt the young man's breath on his neck and his lips on his ear. "I have a feeling you're use to calling the shots; aren't you?"
The question surprised Tim and forced him to analyze what Hugh had just asked. He never thought of if he was the one to call the shots in any of his past relationships, but now that the question was posed to him, he inwardly admitted that was the case. Tim always decided who would do what and when, he'd never allowed another, not even Ken to take charge. He nodded his head and then felt Hugh's palm press against the back of his neck, his fingers slipping along the short crop hair that he recently had trimmed. "Tell ya what Tim. . .I know I'm younger than you, but I like being in control and I think you'd like it too."
Tim already knew he'd like it. His cock was begging to be free and enveloped in the warm hands, lips and ass of the young man that stood beside him, making his body tingle with anticipated pleasure. Tim finished his beer and stood up. "Hugh, I feel like a dirty old man about to jerk off to the sight of a young pup buried under him."
Hugh laughed and reached into his back pocket, pulled several bills from its depth and laid them on the bar. "The drinks were on me tonight," he said and then placed his hand on the small of Tim's back. "Since I'm leading the dance I think I'll tell you when you can jerk off and with whom."
Tim's breath caught in his throat as he thought of testing the young man's words, but something told him to hold off and see what kind of game this kid had in mind. He felt the pressure of Tim's fingers against his back and knew he was being told with silent movements to head out of the bar. The thrill of the unknown was like a heavy cologne that teased the air. Tim found himself growing more excited as he crossed the room and headed out the door, still in contact with Hugh in someway.
They stopped and he turned to the young man, once more taken back by the strength in the bright eyes. "Whose car? Or do we drive separately?" he asked. Inwardly he didn't want to leave Hugh's side, fearful that all of this was a dream and the young stud would disappear.
