Ryan's story.
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Jay was a guy I knew from the neighborhood bar I went to in Manhattan. Not a close friend, just someone I saw in there from time to time. A few years older than my close circle. We played pool together and watched a ballgame or two. On TV and even up at the stadium a couple of times.
I liked the bar, it was pretty low-key and there was plenty of girls came in, giving me ample opportunity for one-nighters. New York girls aren't shy.
Anyway, this isn't about girls. This is about the time with Jay.
We were there late, maybe 2am. Friday night had slipped into Saturday morning and we'd hung on, watching the Olympics live from Beijing. Just the two of us left and Joe, the barman.
Joe wanted to close up and we had to leave. Jay offered me up to his apartment to finish watching, and I agreed.
I knew he was gay and he'd seen me leave with girls often enough to know I wasn't. It wasn't important. I liked Jay as a person and he liked me.
We settled in on his couch with a couple of beers. Watching the men's 200 meters heats.
The coverage always shows a slow-mo head-on shot of the final straight and Jay remarked that it was his favorite bit of the race.
When I asked why, he laughed and explained that he liked to see the athletes junk bouncing up and down in their shorts. I jokingly told him I'd pay more attention in the next race.
And I did. And he was right.
Some runners had tight spandex shorts which clearly defined their cocks and some had looser shorts. You could easily see what they had, bouncing up and down and side to side as they ran towards the camera.
"See?" Jay asked.
"Yep! They should make this coverage TV MA!" I answered, and we laughed.
"Now I have you imagining those guys naked." He laughed again.
"I suppose you did, Jay."
I wasn't sure if I ought to be doing that.
The next race took place and I watched again. But now, almost against my will, I was concentrating on the bouncing cocks. The runner in the fifth lane seemed to have a huge one, given the amount of movement it was creating.
"So who won that?" Jay asked.
"Lane 5," I told him.
But he hadn't won the race, he'd won the biggest dick competition.
"Ha! Now you're doing what I do, Ryan" he said with a grin.
"Well, it is a new way to enjoy the coverage," I replied.
He raised his eyebrows.
"Enjoy?"
I was embarrassed. Felt my face going red. Said nothing.
"Enjoy?" Jay asked again. Nudging me.
I felt like I had to answer.
"Yeah, I guess so. I was imagining their cocks and was enjoying it."
"So do you imagine cocks a lot, Ryan?" he persisted.
"No, not a lot."
"But sometimes."
"Once or twice." I admitted.
"Jerk off, thinking about them?"
"Fuck, Jay! What's with all the questions?"
"Hey man, sorry. I'm just having some fun with you. Every guy I ever met, if he's honest, will admit to thinking about cock at least a little bit."
"Yeah, well most of the guys you met are pretty much thinking about cock the whole time."
"OK you got me there. But as for you, just relax. I'm not going to judge you."
He was right about me. I'd sometimes looked at cocks on-line.
On a few occasions I'd masturbated to bi-sexual porn.
In fact, honestly, what I found exciting in those clips usually didn't involve the woman, except when she was encouraging the two men to fuck.
We were quiet again and another race was run. Jay pointed out one runner in particular.
"Wow, look at that!"
I had noticed and said so. We both waited for the replay.
"Fucking hot!" Jay told me.
He was admitting his arousal to me. Should I admit mine?
I was becoming excited by the situation. I was in a gay man's apartment and we were watching and critiquing men's packages. I decided to be vaguely honest.
"Yep. Nice."
The coverage ended. Jay asked right away if I'd like to see some more cocks.
"Like what, Jay?"
To answer, he switched on his CD player and started a movie. It was porn and it was all-male. And began playing right in the middle of a scene.
"OK? You OK with this?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm OK."
I reasoned that where the movie started from was where he'd reached his orgasm watching this movie last time. I sat there thinking about him stroking his cock as he watched. Thinking about him cumming.
Those thoughts and the action on the screen was getting to me.
I had to fidget a little when my cock began to harden. I wanted to move it to a better position, but didn't want Jay to see me with my hands down my jeans.
Still shy about admitting to him my arousal, my interest, my curiosity.
He saved me the trouble.
"You look uncomfortable, Ryan. Stand up. Let me help you."
His voice was calm and reassuring.
Maybe I'd had just enough beers, I don't know, but I did what he told me: stood up.
He reached out and undid the buckle of my belt and the button and zipper of my jeans.
Pulled them down to my ankles.
Then he pulled down my briefs.
I just stood there. My hands at my sides, watching him undress me.
My cock was almost fully hard and stood out.
He told me I should get completely naked.
So I stepped out of my shoes, kicked off the jeans and briefs and pulled my t-shirt over my head. I did it quickly. Like I was under some kind of spell.
I was utterly bare, now.
Jay made appreciative noises. I was strangely pleased.
"So now maybe you'd like to see me, Ryan?"
The words came thickly from my throat as I agreed.
"Well let's go somewhere more comfortable."
He stood and took my hand and led me to his bedroom.
A naked man with an erection being led to a bedroom by a fully-dressed older gay guy.
And I was just going along with it. I should have been objecting somehow.
"Just sit there and then you can watch," he told me.
I sat on the edge of the bed.