The Washington Street Bar

On a summer evening just days after my college graduation at age 22 a red Toyota UBER left me off in front of Cathedral Station on Washington street. Still somewhat bashful about my emerging sexual desire, I hesitated in front of the tall arched windows of the well-known gay sports bar.

Though my Alma Mata U Mass did not have a gay fraternity, it is LGBTQ friendly. The part of me that wanted a boyfriend in college conflicted with the part of me who wanted to not swing that way.

The sun was low in the sky. Buildings cast long shadows across street. Traffic as usual was heavy. Walkers were out and about.

No guts, no glory. Having steeled myself, I entered the pub, had a good look at my surroundings then went out to the patio.

Within minutes after taking a seat at a patio table my eyes locked onto a strikingly handsome six-footer. Dark hair framed a square face. A polo shirt huggged his muscular chest and arms.

I'm not a puny weakling by any stretch. On the other hand, I'm not a prize winning bodybuilder. My eyes had locked onto a hunk who's much bigger than me. He returned my gaze.

Dude I want to get into your pants. I want your dick inside me. You're fucking HOT.

He approached and took the seat across from me.

"This scene is new to me."

He nodded and replied, "you'll learn fast."

"I'm Stephen. I just graduated U Mass Amherst."

"I'm Jon. What field did you enter?"

"Nursing, I think I'm the only male nurse at MGH."

"That's OK. What does it matter if you're in a female dominated profession?"

"My mom's a nurse. Dad is an engineer. What do you for work?"

"I'm a graphics designer. I work from home for Gds."

I took another big gulp of my brew while my brain went to work.

Meanwhile he asked, "what sports do you like."

"Basketball and baseball," I said.

"Did you play a sport?"

"Yes, highschool baseball," I said.

We swapped anecdotes about growing up, about high school days, people we know and recent incidents. We talked about TV shows and movies and celebs.

"May I ask how old you are?"

"I just turned 39. Is that too old?"

"No," I replied shaking my head.

A couple of days passed since that hookup with Jon, the night I got laid for the first time. I don't count Joann Kent, my only high school girlfriend.

I was spending Sunday afternoon in my apartment watching tv. My phone vibrated on the coffee table. Caller Id indicated Jo Kent It was to be a video call.

"What are ya doin'?"

"Just chillin. I went out Friday night."

"Where?"

"Cathedral Station. It's a bar on Washington Street."

"The gay bar scene," said Jo.

"Yes it is," I replied nodding.

"Did you hook up?"

"Yah I did. His name was Jon."

"I assume you guys had sex."

"I'll never tell."

"You did didn't you."

"He's going to call me again soon."

"Tell me about him."

"He's smoking Hot."

"Really, and you guys didn't fuck? I don't believe that."

"Like I said, 'He's hot'."

For another half hour, give or take a minute, Jo engaged me in girl talk. Though a guy, my emerging feminine side enjoys such chat.

Just minutes after ending the video chat, my phone rang again. This time Jon's face appeared on the screen.

"I'm glad you called."

"I called a few minutes ago. Your line was busy."

"I was talking to an old friend Joann. We were in high school together."

"Are you bi?"

"No, She's just a friend."

"Are you hungry?"

"Always," I quipped.

"I know this great little Italian restaurant. I'll get you in a couple of hours."

"Sounds like a plan," I said.

Minutes after 6 o'clock Jon and I slid into seats facing one another inside a fine Italian restuarant in his home town. A dark-haired waitress brought two plates of linguine with clam sauce while we were sipping red wine brought minutes earlier.

We enjoyed an unhurried meal. Conversation came easily. He talked about his designs and the clients who used the firm. I said little, but gave him my undevided attention.

I realized before we had gone far from the restaurant that we were headed to his condo. In the privacy of his car the conversation turned intimate.

"Do you watch porn?"

"Do you," I asked in reply.

"I like a good man on man video once in a while."

"I like romance novels."
 Having said that, I proceeded name titles and authors.

I added, "there's sex in them."

Seconds later I admitted that "I masturbate."

"So what if you do that. Who cares?"

As I walked into Jon DeLuca's living room I saw a tall potted plant in the corner beside the sliding doors. On another wall two watercolor paintings hung side by side, both of which were street scenes.

I settled beside him into the gray fabric sofa. His hand found my thigh.

My lips touched his lips. I deepened the kiss pouring all my pent up desire in it. Meanwhile his hand crept toward my lap.

When we broke apart winded his eyes shifted downward to my arousal. By then his fingers had reached my zipper and gently stroked my dick through my jeans.

I whispered "I have to either get laid or masturbate NOW."

My throbbing dick needed attention.

I quickly shed my clothes tossing them forward over the hassock. My right hand closed around my erect penis.

Bent on ejaculating, I rubbed hard and rapidly as the seconds ticked away.

We awoke early Monday morning in his dark bedroom amid dischelved bed covers.

Minutes later Jon drew back the shower curtain to join me in the stall.

Minutes later when we stepped onto the tiled floor he wrapped his arms around me from behind. His shaft brushed my buttocks as I toweled my body.

We arrived at the entrance of MGH after a long ride in heavy traffic. There Jon sent me off with a kiss on y cheek.

During the days that followed we engaged in video chats all of which ended with throwing each other a kiss.

Saturday morning saw me and Jon with Jo in my apartment. Jon was first to arrrive, coming on invite from me. Jo popped in while the boyriend and I were playing chess.

Jon looked up from the board while I was analyzing the position considering my move.

"You must be Joann Kent."

"YUP," she replied.

"I've heard a lot about you."

Jo giggled. "I've heard nothing about you."