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August 8, 2007

Adam’s Adventures - Part 1

story categories: sex stories, gay-males, bi-sexuals
[full story is 3,529 words]

Adam sat in silence on the park bench, idly watching the ducks swim aimlessly around in circles on the surface of the muddy boating lake. It was quite warm for February, and the sun was shining with such intensity that he was forced to screw up his eyes against the glare which was reflected off the water.

What was he going to do? How could he possibly not know who he was or where he came from? If he knew what amnesia was (and he recognized the word as soon as the doctor used it) how could he not know anything about himself? It seemed so strange… to know things you were taught in school, mathematical formulae and historical facts and figures, that Paris was the capital of France and that Gordon Brown was the Prime Minister, and yet not know your own name or even if your parents were alive or dead!

“I’m sorry I can’t say something which sounds more hopeful,” the doctor had said, less than an hour ago as Adam had been discharged from the Infirmary. “I can understand how lost you must feel, but rest assured that most amnesiacs do recover some of their memory if not all of it.”

Adam smiled wryly. “And some never get their memory back at all, correct?”

The doctor nodded. “I’m afraid so, but the percentage is very small. Usually their relatives identify them from the newspapers or through the police, and once the patient is back in their home environment little day-to-day things keep jogging their memory.”

Adam wasn’t encouraged. He’d been in the hospital for over a month, ever since the police had found him, dazed and bloody from a head wound, wandering through the streets late one night. The media had latched onto his case, and for several consecutive days his face had been on more newspaper covers than Princess Diana’s.

But nothing had come of it. No one came forward to claim him, the police drew a complete blank, and, mysteriously, he had no form of identification on him.

(click to read entire story…)


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August 4, 2007

The End of Ambivalence

[full story is 2,597 words]

I was happy, a little excited even, to provide a night of lodging to Rod, the fellow from the home office, upstate. We had been working together on the new facility design for months. He was gorgeous and I enjoyed the few opportunities I had to be with him outside of the office — lunches and on one occasion a late-night cocktail at my apartment.

Not wanting to put him off or give him the wrong idea, I offered to sleep on my couch. Rod laughed looking at the loveseat that I called a couch. Not necessary, he said.

I didn’t dare assume anything from his casual observation that my king size bed looked like it could easily accomodate more than just the two of us. I crashed early, freeing the bathroom for my guest and creating what privacy I could by my sleep.

I lay quietly for over an hour before I heard him snap off the t.v. and come in to the bedroom. He stood in the doorway, framed from behind by the light in the bathroom and gently illuminated from the front by the lamp near my closet. I feigned sleep, watching him closely through thin, veiled slits.

I don’t know if I was hoping to see him undress, maybe, yes, that was a hope but one that I wouldn’t let get too high. He peeled off his slacks, shrugged out of his shirt and stepped out of his sleek briefs. My throat tightened. God, he looked terrific.

He pulled a dacron night shirt over his head adjusting it around his hips. After a few moments in the bathroom the light went out and he padded across the room. I felt the bed adjust itself as he lowered himself gently, even cautiously, into bed. It was clear he though I was asleep. Minutes passed, maybe an hour, I couldn’t tell. His breathing slowed, went deep and more quiet. Eventually I drifted off, too, full of notions and feelings that I refused to try and articulate for fear of what I might find.

(click to read entire story…)


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February 8, 2007

Five Mile High Club - from “The Leatherjacket Tales”

[full story is 1,507 words]

I remember the good old days of flying, when the great 747 fleet first graced the skies. It was the peak of the jet age and the world looked on us as the elite of the elite. We set the standard by which all commercial flying was judged. I recall how honoured I was the day I received my flight attendant wings, my first flight, my promotion to purser. Ahh yes, the past was beautiful. No low budget airlines, no TWA scabs, no imminent fear of bankruptcy. We flew with pride and proved our service was the best. I worked the New York to Frankfurt run as often as I could. Of course, that one day still stands out strongly in my memory.

We were late boarding for the flight. I had gone from the plane into the passenger waiting area. There I noticed him for the first time. He was so handsome — tall, brown hair, high-cheek boned with deep blue eyes and manly tanned face. His mustache accented his perfect smile. Our eyes met. I felt like a school boy who is having the first crush on his teacher. As I walked back to the plane, I glanced back at him only to find him looking at me, grinning like someone with a secret he is aching to tell. I notice he was tall and well framed, even in his business suit.

I returned to my post in the first class cabin and waited to see if he would be seated near my position. Alas, he was not amongst the first class group. I sighed as we closed the doors. One of the stewardess in the aft of the economy cabin called me to come to the rear galley. I carefully checked each passenger as I walked down the aisle, trying to give the appearance that I was inspecting seat belts when in reality I was looking for him. I was perplexed as I failed to find him. The disappointed look disappeared from my face as I walked back towards the first class cabin. There, in seat 23A, was my handsome stranger.

“Excuse me,” he asked, “but what is the flying time to Frankfurt?” I laughed and replied with the 7 and 1/2 hour flight time along with the complete routing that flight 66 would be taking that evening. He thanked me and as I told him I hope I could be of service to him during the flight, he chuckled saying, “I’m sure you will be.”

(click to read entire story…)


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November 12, 2006

Bar Babe

[full story is 1,222 words]

When I walked into the bar, I didn’t notice her at first. I sat in a booth in a dark corner and ordered a drink from the waitress.

The waitress returned with my drink, and when I went to pay her for it, she said it had already been taken care of by the blonde at the end of the bar. I looked, and there was Sandy, sitting on a stool at the end of the bar. God, she was gorgeous! Wearing a white blouse, short black skirt, and black fishnet stockings, she sat with her legs crossed, and I could see far up her skirt. She was, without a doubt, the best looking woman in the place.

Sandy smiled at me, and, as she walked over to my table, I couldn’t help but notice her nipples, erect against the soft white silk of her low cut blouse, and the slow swaying of her breasts. She stood in front of me and asked if she could sit with me. “Sure”, I said, and she slid into the booth with me.

She told me that she was a receptionist in the hotel, and that she had just gotten off work a few minutes before. She said I looked like the kind of man she’d like to spend some time with, as she traced patterns on the inside of my thigh with her long nails. As she stroked my leg, her firm, warm breast pressed against my arm with urgency.

Sandy looked me in the eyes, and said she had a room upstairs and she’d like to take me there. She stood, took me by the hand, and led me out of the bar to the elevator. Arm in arm, the warmth of her body and the scent of her perfume were really getting to me! My cock was straining against the front of my pants, my balls tight and full.

(click to read entire story…)


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October 5, 2006

Three-Way Play Room

[full story is 2,958 words]

Chip was waiting in the hotel lobby right on time. Since he had been scheduled to work today for the early early lunch shift, he was off at six. That was OK with me, since it had been a late one the night before. Much as I had enjoyed balling all night with this great looking stud, I was a little tired today. Not as young as I used to be, I guess. Nonetheless, the offer to meet his friend in Georgetown sounded too good to miss - tired or not. The friend, according to CHIP, was “into leather”, and had his own playroom in his house. Although I consider myself to be fairly experienced, I had never gotten much into the leather scene. Most of the leather types I had met in the past had been nothing more than bank clerks dressed up in leather jackets and playacting. A definite turn-off as far as I was concerned. When Chip had described his friend to me the night before, this one sounded different, so I was looking forward to meeting the guy and - if things worked out - seeing what he had to offer.

We got a taxi easily at the hotel, and headed for Georgetown. Along the way, since neither of us had eaten dinner, we stopped for two pizzas to take with us. We drove along what appeared to be a major parkway for a while, and then Chip had to give the driver directions through Georgetown to his friend’s house. The house turned out to be a small, very ordinary looking semi-detached house along a very ordinary looking street. I was a little disappointed. I do not know what I had expected, but this didn’t look like it. We paid the driver, the cab left, and we walked up the walk to the front door and rang the bell.

Unlike the house itself, the guy who answered the door WAS everything I had expected - and more. He was about 6′2″, a little taller than me, and had the broadest shoulders I had ever seen. Standing in the doorway of this little house made him look even bigger than he was. He had short jet black hair and a thin inch wide beard running along the edge of his jaw. The beard and his rugged facial features made him look particularly formidable. He was wearing a loose sweat shirt and tight, faded jeans which outlined a nice looking piece of meat to the left of his crotch. It seemed to extend half way to his knees. We shook hands and he took our coats and threw them over a chair in the living room. His name was Mark. (click to read entire story…)


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