After a couple of decades of neglecting fitness in favor of booze, cigarettes, and shitty food, I chose sobriety, quit the Marlboros forever, and focused on a healthier diet plus a little daily exercise. Yay me, I guess.
But it worked and I feel great and look better than I should for a 60-year-old grandpa. Pretty much every afternoon I'll run/walk about 4 miles around my neighborhood in the burbs of Cleveland. I love it because I can appreciate the area's lovely old homes and beautiful landscapes up close.
I'm a born bullshitter, so I'll sometimes stop for a second and say hello to people out working in their yards. My community is wonderfully diverse -- black, white, Catholic, Jew, and a growing gay population -- and people are generally friendly and very cool.
(I'll pause here and say that even though I had been married and had kids, I've remained what I describe as "periodically bisexual" over the years since my divorce. I'm somewhere smack in the middle of the Kinsey scale. I love women but, once in a while, I get the urge to enjoy a man. The commonality is that I like to give pleasure to whomever I'm with. It makes me happy to make my partner happy.)
I was out on a run when I first met Doug. He was fully entangled in the leashes of the three tiny dogs he was trying to walk. I stopped and soon we were both laughing about his predicament as I helped him get unwound. I told him I was Jeff and pointed out my home on the corner down the street. He said he'd seen me walking by his place many times and it was nice to finally meet. He then confirmed my trusty gaydar when mentioned he and Caleb, his architect husband, lived in a lovely Tudor home a few blocks down the street.
Doug was a bit younger than me and had that 1960s "Mad Men" look with short blond hair and horn-rimmed glasses. He was smart and funny and I enjoyed chatting with him as we walked together for a bit. As we stood talking in front of their beautiful century home, he bemoaned the fact that they were hopeless at lawn care and asked if I had any suggestions. Being neighborly, I told him to give me his number and I'd text him some suggestions about which fertilizer and seed to use.
As we parted ways, he thanked me for offering to help and gave me a nice smile and a handshake that lasted just an extra second or two. My cock stirred a little as I jogged away thinking of his touch and his twinkling blue eyes behind those cute glasses.
After an exchange of messages about their lawn, I had a bunch of business travel and didn't hear from Doug for three weeks. Then one day a text popped up with a picture of a now nearly perfect lawn. "Jeff -- THANK YOU!!! Please come over Friday night and you can see how great it looks in person. We want to fix you dinner and show our appreciation." I replied, "Hells yes" and told them I'd bring dessert.
For the next couple of days, my mind would occasionally wander thinking about dinner with Doug and Caleb. It would surely just be a nice dinner and nothing more, right? But what if they did want to show me their...appreciation? In fact, I jacked off twice imagining their appreciation. Finally, I found myself walking up the street and knocking on their front door on a beautiful spring evening.
The door opened and an absolute stud with perfect gray hair and mustache was there to greet me. Caleb was a hottie. I could tell at a glance that he was way more serious about fitness than me. I handed over the chocolate chip banana bread I'd baked for them and got a quick tour of their amazing home. It was impeccable and I would have happily taken any piece of the artwork they had displayed around the place. I was gobsmacked by their good taste.
We headed into the backyard where Doug was grilling. He instantly pulled me into a big hug and started enthusiastically telling me how much they loved their yard now. He said they had decided to appoint me as their "official lawn boy." I smiled and said, "Happy to be of service."
We talked, we laughed, we ate, and we shared life stories. Doug was a freelance graphic artist and Caleb redid houses for rich folks. Doug started to ask what I did for a living and Caleb interrupted him and gave him a quick and shockingly accurate rundown of my career accomplishments. "I stalked you on LinkedIn," said Caleb with a wink.
They'd both drank wine while I stuck with my usual lemonade. But I had an ace up my sleeve: I don't drink anymore but I do still enjoy the occasional THC edible and I'd brought a few along. And they were strong. We each popped one in our mouths as we quietly enjoyed the sunset.
Doug broke the silence: "Okay Jeff, I have to ask you something. Have you ever been with a guy before?"
