"Johnny, I know you're embarrassed and confused by your feelings, but all I'm asking is for you to do for me what you did for a complete stranger...I'm going to turn off the lamp—sometimes it's easier to find courage in the dark," he said then reached over and flipped off the only light in the room.
He put his arm around me and stroked my shoulders. His other hand massaged my breasts and gently rolled my nipples in his fingers. A shiver ran up and down my spine; my nipples became erect and my penis twitched inside my cotton briefs.
I felt his hot breath in my ear; he kissed my neck, his lips trailed upwards to my cheek, his hand suddenly tilted my head towards his and his warm lips pressed against mine. It was my first kiss with a man—I liked it. His lips were soft and I kissed him back.
I was filled with nervous uncertainty. Being with a man this way went against my upbringing and beliefs. My mind was telling me this was wrong—that this was unnatural—that I should jump up from the couch and get out of the house as fast as possible, but my body enjoyed his attention—I loved having his strong hands caressing me, and I especially liked his hot lips kissing mine.
Richard and I had met five days earlier at the pool for my apartment complex. He was thirty years older than me but he kept himself in great shape. With his dark tan, chiseled chest and his thick mane of silvery hair he looked like a distinguished and successful man.
I watched him swim—he was graceful yet had a powerful stroke and his muscles rippled in the water. I found myself oddly attracted to him. When he climbed out of the pool he dried himself then sat in the chair beside mine. My heart began beating faster—a thin film of perspiration covered my skin. I didn't know why I was reacting like that.
"Hi—you're new here—my name is Richard," he said as he flashed me a big smile.
"Oh...ah, hi..." I stammered, surprised that such an important looking man would introduce himself to me. "I'm John."
We shook hands—my hand was very small inside his.
He made small talk that put me at ease. He drew me out. I explained I'd moved to Florida a few days ago and was now looking for work. I found myself talking more than I normally would with someone I just met. He seemed very charming and sincere.
"Why did you leave your hometown?" He asked. "You're an intelligent boy, and if you don't mind me saying—you're very good-looking, too—you must have left a lot of disappointed girls back there."
My face flushed a deep red. I didn't know how to answer his question. He quickly changed the subject and we talked for over an hour before he said he had to leave. He asked for, and I gave him my cell phone number. For the first time I felt relaxed and contented in my new city.
He called me the next day and asked if I wanted to have dinner with him.
"Sure," I said and he gave me directions to his house.
At ten-minutes to five I walked to his house. It was through some bushes about a hundred feet from the swimming pool. It was a small, neat-looking house and I knocked on the door of the screen-in back porch.
He seemed genuinely happy to see me and invited me inside for a glass of wine before we went to dinner. We settled on his couch and our conversation flowed smoothly—it was very easy for me to talk with him.
We had dinner at an expensive steakhouse. More wine, a fabulous meal, and interesting conversation. Afterwards he drove me home; we arranged to meet the following night.
We had dinner at a seafood restaurant next to The Bay. Another great meal; we went to a movie then we stopped at a local bar near where we lived and had a couple drinks before he took me home.
I always offered to help pay for everything but he politely refused my money.
He would say, "Johnny, this was my idea so it's only right that I pay for both of us."
Actually, I was relieved—I didn't have much cash and I hadn't had any luck yet finding a job.
The next night he took me to an Italian restaurant; another fine meal with three bottles of wine. I was feeling the wine when we left. We stopped at another bar I'd never been to and went inside.
It was so dark inside it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust and focus. He led me to a small booth and a male server took our drink order. The server was dressed in skimpy gym shorts, like mine, and a cut-off tee shirt. It surprised me. I looked around the club and noticed there weren't any women there.
"Yes," Richard said, "this is a gay bar—I hope you don't mind."
I blushed and said, "No-no—this is fine."
At some point in our conversation the subject turned to sex. He wondered how many girls I'd been with. I told him I'd had two long-term girlfriends, but we eventually broke-up.
Then he asked, "Have you ever been intimate with a man or boy?"
