A Slip Sideways, I'm On Another Slide, A Gay Slide

At the ripe old age of 46 I met a man at a convention, and we found that we both lived in the same city. We were seated side by side at the lunch block, and found that the speaker interrupted our talk. Right then, the speaker's topic wasn't for me and I nudged him and we walked out and went to the bar for a drink. We missed the next presentation and had a couple more drinks. By the time we decided to join the group we were pretty tipsy from alcohol at lunch.

As we were both staying at the same hotel we agreed to meet for dinner. The concierge gave us a couple of suggestions, not far, within walking distance. We chose Del Frisco's for the steaks. Scotch at dinner, that's my poison. We had a very nice dinner, the conversation flowed. After dinner, we walked back slowly, with his arm around my shoulders so that we could hear each other talk. It felt good, really and shrugged off any concern I may have had about what others would think.

Back in the lobby he offered a night cap in his room. He said he had a bottle of Cognac he had bought the previous day, as a g*ft, but hey, let's have a night cap instead. In his room, he had a suite overlooking the pool, we lost our shoes and sat back to sip our cognacs. He mentioned that a man has to have a friend, and that a friend in need, was a friend in deed. And he needed a friend to spend the night with him. I got cold, whatever buzz I had left me, I was fully aware. Did I hear him right? I'm sorry, I tried to say, but I'm not that way. He was easy going and said that a friend is a friend, and he felt we had become friends, and there is always a time to expand your horizons. And he asked me again, will you sir, spend the night with me?

He didn't go all over the place, he was short about it, he knew it when he saw it, he knew when he felt it, and he knew when he got a good look in the eye. And he knew it, wasn't it time for me to know it too? He put his drink down, and walked over to me and asked me to stand. He said he was going to kiss me and he wanted me to kiss him back. He kissed me alright, right on the lips, a kiss, a wet kiss, his tongue parting my lips. It was a hungry kiss, passion kiss, and he took my cock in his hand. I was nervous, but then not. I had my mind on his hand, not the kiss. He unzipped my pants and took my cock out to breathe, and guided my hand to his cock. Release the dragon, he said. And I did. Our cocks out in the fresh air, he took them both in his hand and held them as he continued to kiss.

My knees were weak. My throat was dry. My heart was racing. What had I gotten myself into? But he continued to kiss, his passion rising, his kiss was urgent, his hand holding our cocks together, no longer at ease. He stopped kissing and said come here and stepped back and I followed as he was pulling me with him holding our cocks together. He sat on the bed and started to kiss my cock, to gently suck it, to run his tongue up and down the shaft. He squeezed my cock, as he gently kissed my cock. He had to let go to undo my belt and the catch in my pants, they fell to my feet. My boxers followed, and he had his hands on my cheeks, while he sucked on my now very erect cock. He used his face to move my cock around, and thus having my cock caress his face. He pronounced: Only a man's cock can you make you feel like this.

The rest I will leave to your imagination, except to say he was thorough, and by the night ended, whatever I had thought was 'gay' virgin, was not. We were in the hot shower kissing.

I am not gay, I've told myself that a thousand times. At his house he has a life sized rendition of his cock in bronze on his side table. Over his bed a painting rendered by a friend of his, he is worshipping a six foot cock, dripping cum, which he looks up to with the face of a man in rapture. I am not gay, I repeat. I am not gay, I have a gay friend, but I am not gay! I'm not.