Author Author

The final stop on the book tour was back in Tulsa. My flight arrived late Monday night and I got to sleep in my own bed for the first time in almost two months. Drizzling rain awoke me at first light. I opened the windows and afforded myself the luxury of drifting in and out of sleep while moist, fecund air wafted across my bed. Later, I took my coffee on the porch and watched the rain puddle my jogging paths and turn the park sodden. There would be no bawdy rutting with Terry in the cozy, wooded nook today.

The finale was in the auditorium of a Unitarian Church. The cost of admission was the purchase of a copy of the book. It was a sold-out crowd of almost three hundred. People were restlessly waiting in their seats when I walked in with the owner of our local independent bookstore. Cameras flashed as we made our way to the stage steps. Gotta love a hometown crowd.

I was surprised to see Terry sitting in the first row. Excusing myself from my host, I made a bee line to him. He stood to shake hands. I ignored his extended arm and went in for a quick hug.

"I wasn't expecting to see you," I said.

"Your picture was in the paper, so Ta-Da."

"Nice surprise." I gave him another hug and joined my host on stage. The bookstore owner led me through an hour-long conversation, then I read a few select passages. Finally, I took some audience questions. All in all, a nice ending to a long tour.

Terry stood in the book signing line. When his turn came, I signed: "To my dear friend, Terry. With affectionate Best Wishes, Marc with a C."

"I hope to see you soon, Terry. We have a lot of catching up to do."

"That sounds wonderful. I look forward to it."

Typical of Oklahoma in the spring, the rain continued for days. Each night the weather turned to thunder-boomers that twice sounded the tornado sirens. So it goes. That meant workouts in the gym instead of the park, which also meant no Terry.

On Saturday afternoon, I dodged raindrops to get into my local sports bar for a burger and beers. The big screens showed NBA Finals, a baseball game, even a tennis match. In the far corner, several tables were engaged in a trivia contest where you competed in real time with bars all across the country. That crowd could get pretty rowdy and today their cacophony occasionally drowned out the TVs.

I sat at the bar and was halfway through my burger when Terry plopped down on the stool next to me.

"I never know where you'll turn up these days," I laughed.

"I got roped into a trivia contest and, since I couldn't get out to enjoy the park, I figured why not. Now I'm glad I did."

"Me, too. It's so good to see you." I surprised him with a surreptitious squeeze of his thigh beneath the bar. "I've been thinking of you but the spring rains conspired against our chance meetings."

"Well, I suggest we make up for lost time. I live just a few blocks away," Terry said. "Could I invite you over?"

I considered the invitation. The serendipitous aspect of our hook-ups had erected a rampart protecting me from too much familiarity with my gay friend. My propriety pertained but the swelling of my cock prevailed. "Great idea!"

"Wonderful!" He took my phone and entered his phone number and address. "Why don't you give me about 45 minutes and drop by."

I took my phone and set the timer. "Okay, but could I make a request?"

I arrived at the door step of his upscale home precisely 45 minutes later. The door opened before I could knock. Terry stood there wearing the requested silk robe and I knew he was clad in a sexy undergarment beneath.

As soon as I entered we shared a long, longing gaze before having our first romantic, rather than lustful, kiss. We lingered in each others arms for several minutes. My hand eventually lowered to the flesh of his ass. What once felt firm now seemed as soggy as the park. I chastised myself for drawing comparisons between this sixty-something man and Lief, or even Cole.

"Isn't there a bed waiting for us somewhere?" I asked playfully.

"There is. Let me show you the way." He took my hand.

Halfway down the hallway, I stopped him with a touch to his hip. My lips buried in his nape as my hands circled him from behind, roaming his chest atop the silky fabric. He pressed his ass against my welling cock. I gathered his tits in my hands and caressed his nipples. They felt pouty and full, but his pecs were fleshy.

One hand slowly traced down the slick fabric until I felt the welling of his cock. "I can't wait a moment longer," I whispered in his ear as I knelt and turned him around. I rubbed my cheek over his manhood as he moaned.

"Is this the same Marc that I used to know?"

My fingertips pulled at the ends of the robe's belt and it fell open. "This is the new and improved model. I hope you like it."

His cock was swollen beneath the purple sheen of bikini briefs. I gently stroked it between the fingertips of both hands. It felt firm and about five inches long. Terry gasped and his entire groin twitched. "I'm loving this new version of Marc with a C."

I cradled his hard dick between my lips, tracing it through the silky material while exhaling a slow, hot breath. "It's long past time for me to acquaint myself with your cock."

Down came his waistband. Out fell his cock. There was a slight sag to his erection where, I'm sure, there was a proud stiffness in decades past. It was slender and straight with a crown that seemed disproportionately large. The flesh was tender and pillowy under my fingertips. As I looked up, our eyes met. There was a thrill in his gaze and a hint of disbelief. I tried to convey so much in mine. Affection obviously, excitement as well, but also apology for all my selfishness in our previous trysts.

My tongue made a juicy orbit of his crown and flitted across his frenulum. I felt a tremble shoot through him. "You've shown me so much mastery of the art of fellatio,' I said, "I hope I can return the favor."

Then my tongue nestled his cock as my lips made a leisurely transit of his shaft, again and again. Delicious moans echoed in the corridor. "Ohhh, Marc, wherever you learned this, you learned it well." With his hands in my hair, he urged me up. "Now I want to get you naked in my bed."

Something about that image was unappealing. Instead, I dawdled with his hardness, releasing it from my mouth only so my tongue and lips could dally with every sensitive site. His hands entreated me to my feet. I persisted in teasing his cock until I thought his quivering legs might give out. When I rose, it was to his lips. Playing with his cock had animated my tongue, making my kiss ardent and deep. We clutched at each other, my hands migrating to his ass sheathed in satin. I pulled him tightly to me. His hardness insinuated against me separated only by the slick purple fabric of his briefs. Moans and groans made a lusty music between the narrow walls.

I would have preferred to collapse on the carpet and fuck rampantly as we had so many times in that cozy forest nook. The intimacy of his bed seemed unsettling but Terry longed to make love rather than rut like wild animals. As he led me to his bed, my free hand continued to caress his pliant ass, wishing it was youthful and firm.

Once beside his bed, I shucked my tee shirt into the corner as Terry undid my belt. Once unclasped, he struggled with the buttons of my 501s. I stopped him. Sweeping the robe from his shoulders, I said "Stripping these jeans is clumsy, not sexy. Wait for me on the sheets."

I watched him watch me as I shucked my sneakers and socks, then pealed off my Levis. A man old enough to be my father awaited me. He was trim, but soft. Handsome but worn. Rather than pouncing on him, I sat ruefully on the edge of the bed. Slowly, his eager face drooped, replaced with an air of dread.

"What's troubling you, Marc?"

I wasn't entirely sure. I had changed over the last two months but was unsure of exactly how, or who I was now. Amid all that complexity there was one simple truth. "I need to be fair to you, Terry. We're friends but I will never fall in love with you."

He gave a quick laugh. "Thank god. How pathetic would that be?" He scooched beside me, taking my now flaccid cock between his gentle fingers. "You're a virile young Adonis and I am a man in declining years. Enjoying a bit of libertine fuckery is all I'm looking for. Oh god no, I don't have designs on your heart." He pulled me onto the sheets and winnowed his mouth over my cock "Though my intentions for your cock are far from honorable."

It was my turn to laugh as he took me into his marvelous mouth. I was instantly hard.

We fucked away an hour and a half, partaking in a smorgasbord of delights. We sixty-nined deliciously. Then we kissed and rolled and groped. I made him cum in my mouth while I fingered his gland. His ejaculate dribbled atop my tongue and was bitter tasting, but it was fun to see the fireworks go off in his eyes and the joy that came with his climax.

I held him a long time, simply kissing the sexual verve back into him. When I slowly entered him, he was exquisitely cloying and tight, and his eyes became clouded with bliss. Then he begged me to fuck him in a tone that was ageless and eternal.

We ended in the sitting position like Lief had taught me. It seemed like hours that we peered into each other's eyes as I slowly withdrew and then penetrated him. I'm not a poet. I don't presume to know what love is, but the feeling that flowed between us was soulful and heartfelt.

Finally, after impossible lengths of bliss, my ardor rose. I began to plunder his mouth with my tongue and plunge my cock into him searching for a primitive rapture. He clutched me with his arms and ass and winnowed atop my rapacious cock. I erupted within his splendid core while he managed a second, more bounteous creaming of my lap. We collapsed atop his mattress still intertwined with arms, and legs, and weary tongues.

Terry found a robe for me that matched his. We sat in armchairs drinking excellent wine, listening to Mozart and talking. He never asked me what sexual romps had happened while on the book tour other than to tease that it must have included a Tibetan Monastery where the Kama Sutra is practiced. The Nocturnes of Chopin played when he knelt between my knees, parted my robe, and performed his oral magic on my cock. Afterward, he said I had a well-traveled taste.

We never trysted in that cozy nook in the park again, though we made love as friends many times. My angst over our relationship was resolved when he found a companion his own age to share the many years lying ahead. I was genuinely glad for him and even joined them both in bed one time. Terry joked that we made a strange sandwich. "Fresh meat between stale bread."

A year later, I received an inscribed copy of Lief's first novel. It was celebrated widely and deservedly. Though I think of him often, we haven't crossed paths since. I would love to repeat our past but I don't expect it. That is not how lives unfold outside of fairy tales. Still, I hope and there is that chance. So it goes.

Many years lie ahead. I won't base them on wishes. Instead, I will fill them gratefully, intently, lustily with life.