DGWM

Recently while rifling through my files, I came upon a story I had written about fifteen years ago. I had been divorced about five years and during those years I had two relationships with two women and a few flings with men, but after I broke up with the last woman, I went through a period I called my “divine madness”. I sucked a lot of cock during that time. Sex clubs, saunas, steam rooms, glory holes, video booths, anywhere men gathered and exposed themselves. This story was written before I came out to my family. I was out to a few close friends and my ex, but a few years later I came out and it was a whole lot better than I had expected. My kids were great and my family still loves me and accepts me.  The first part of this was posted earlier.  This is the story in it's entirety.

DGWM

Divorced, gay, white male seeking someone who is patient, trustworthy, has a sense of humor, kind with a big and open heart. Possible long term relationship.

He called the first day the ad came out. He hadn't read the ad but had put an ad in earlier and although the ad had run out, the computer continued to link him up with possible dates that fit his criteria. Wonderful, the computer did the work and he responded and sounded great on the phone. Forty-four, he had been in a relationship for seventeen years and his lover died four years ago. HIV negative and art director for a large engineering firm. We set a date for the following Friday and then he called me to meet him at his house in the Castro. I was a little hesitant about meeting at his house and suggested we meet at the restaurant, but he wanted to meet me there first. I thought it was a little risky on his part to invite a total stranger to his house. I mean, what if I was a gay Ted Bundy or that guy that went all over the States killing gay guys and eventually killed Versace? What if he was? On my way down to the City I thought about calling someone and giving them the number in case I got a weird vibe, but then I'd probably be dead by the time someone thought to call the number because I hadn't shown up for a couple of days. Boy, dating can be a scary proposition without even worrying about the sex.

I dropped my roommate off at the Oakland Airport and then drove to the City, arriving an hour and a half before the appointed time and decided to roam around the Castro. I parked the car and walked around, getting money form the ATM and spent some time in the bookstores and a few of the “gay” shops. I stopped at a florist and bought a single red rose.

“This is in sincere appreciation for going out with me.”

“This is for you, for being the first to answer my ad.”

“This is a token of my appreciation.”

I bought some Mentos at Walgreens and walked back to the car after deciding to drive to his place and see if I could remember where he lived because I had left the address and instructions at home. I found it without a problem in a very nice neighborhood on the upper side of 17^th. It was a beautiful white shingled three story townhouse that I found out was built in 1913. Then I drove around and began to work on my fear and self-esteem.

We didn't discuss our appearance much on the phone. Was it because we both didn't have a lot of confidence in our physical attractiveness to snag a fellow? Was it because he was grossly overweight and didn't ask me about my appearance for fear that he would have to describe himself? I knew he had blond hair. That was it. Was it natural? I had this image of a bottle blond Oscar Wilde or Quinten Crisp with rouge and a little lip color and foundation. Then I would think about the fact that the computer had linked us up and how that could possibly have some cosmic connection and finally the universe was going to pay off the big jackpot and this gorgeous man would answer the door and we would never even make it to dinner and would end up eating breakfast in bed.

I walked up the steps and looked into the windowed porch. So clean and tasteful. I rang the bell and waited. And waited. Oh, my God! He saw me walk up the street and called off all the bets. He's not answering the fucking door! Why isn't he answering the door? The front door opened and he came to the porch door and unlocked it.

I had on my black leather jacket, light blue jeans, black shoes and my leather gloves. Gay chic.

“Hi, come in. Sorry I took so long to open the door.”

“Oh, that's alright. This is for you.” I handed him the rose.

“How nice, thank you. You look like you just rode your motorcycle. Do you have a bike?”

“No, my hands are cold.” He shook my hand before I could get the glove off. I thought I looked like a was there to rob his house.

There was a gas fire in the fireplace making the living room appear somewhat inviting. He didn't offer to take my jacket, so I threw it over one of the two couches in the living room. He had actually run into the other room and was shouting to me.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

I froze. What should I ask for? Just water? What if he's an alcoholic? Or worse, in recovery?

I had to make the leap. After all, I was in the wine industry. “Do you have any white wine?”

“Somewhere.” He began rummaging through the refrigerator as I entered the kitchen.

He had straight strawberry blond hair and a matching mustache. Perfectly groomed. I got more nervous. I realized I like them a little rougher around the edges. Should have put that in the ad. He immediately reminded me in coloring of a friend I'm not too fond of. Poor guy. He doesn't stand a chance. His lips were on the thin side. Actually, practically non-existent. I realized I like full, sensual lips. I began to feel shallow and superficial. Let it go. Give it a chance. I relaxed a little. He still couldn't find the wine.

“Well, if I do have some, it's not chilled.”

“Red will do.” I noticed some pictures on a shelf. “May I?” I asked as I took one down to look at it.

“Sure. I have some vodka.”

“I'm OK. Is this your lover?”

“Yes. Here's some wine. This is red wine isn't it? A girlfriend gave it to me.” He handed me a bottle of red zinfandel. This wasn't a good sign.

“Yes, this will be fine.” I placed the picture of his lover in some Mediterranean setting and noticed four bottles of wine standing straight up on the shelf. I thought about saying something and about how they should be stored and decided to drop it.

I walked back into the living room and started to case the joint.

“You have a beautiful home.” I shouted as he opened the bottle in the kitchen. I felt like I had already made a giant nuisance of myself by asking for the wine and now he was in there struggling with the opener.

“What?” he asked as he walked into the room with the bottle and the opener. I met him at the drafting table in the center of the room.

“You have a beautiful home.” I repeated.

“Thank you.” he replied as he struggled with the cork. Finally it was open and we were sitting on the two couches across from one another in the living room before the gas fire and the coffee table with the magazines beautifully arranged. Out, Desire, The Advocate. The he began to ask questions about my kids. I rambled and when he asked me about what their reactions were when I came out to them, I lied. I made up this beautiful whopper about how cool they were about it and tolerant and loving and how it hasn't made a bit of difference in our relationship. As I sat there lying my ass off I thought about how I may someday have to either tell him that I had lied or actually come out to my kids and hope that it turns out as nicely as it did in the lie. It became a matter of speaking it into existence. And then I thought, how can I elaborate and make this lie even more believable. I spun a yarn all over that immaculate living room and wove a tale of such infinite beauty and love, that when I had finished, I sat back on the couch, crossed my legs, took a sip of wine and said, “I love my children very much and we have a beautiful relationship. Which was true.

I told him about my marriage and how I've known I was gay since High School and how my wife knew and how the marriage ended and it didn't have that much to do with the fact that I was gay. I poured out the whole story, feeling like I had said too much. There wasn't any mystery left. Did there really need to be? I could feel this date going nowhere fast. I mean, this should be perfect. This guy was obviously loaded. He owns a beautiful home in San Francisco. Very stable. But where was the bang? The chemistry? Click? Electricity? He wouldn't maintain eye contact long enough and his cat was scary.

He must have weighed at least twenty pounds. I bent down to pet the cat and my date said, “Watch out.” I pulled my hand back as the cat eyed me with these big gorgeous eyes. “He likes to play rough.” I waited to see if there was any innuendo intended. Nothing. Damn!

He showed me the upstairs. Even more clean and sterile than the downstairs. Two bedrooms. They reminded me of hotel suites. We walked out onto the balcony and stood at the railing as he pointed out all the neighbors houses and his garden and patio below. I began to get the feeling that the house was part of the date plan. The lure. The attraction. The chemistry. It began to appear rehearsed, premeditated. As I leaned on the railing and looked at the stars, I began to feel a bit romantic and thought, make a move, do something, so I don't have to make a decision. Something spontaneous. I realized I loved spontaneity. Should have put that in the ad too.

We walked to the restaurant after touring the garage and the backyard. I have never seen a garage as clean and neat. He took me up two blocks of steps that were adjacent to his house. As we started up I asked if this was the way to the restaurant. There was a young man seated on the bottom step who I hadn't noticed as we approached who replied, “This is the entrance to the Starship Enterprise.” We were walking in the opposite direction I knew the restaurant to be. When I mentioned this he told me wanted to show me the steps. More the tour. I was relieved when we got to the top and started back down. What was this? Was he testing my endurance?

Dinner was uneventful in a series of uneventful moments and then it was time to walk back. We chatted and talked about wanting to move to Sonoma County someday. I rambled a lot of nonsense about my involvement in theatre and my play-writing. We ended up again sitting across from each other on the two couches in his impeccable living room and then I lied again and said I had a 9:00 rehearsal in the morning and needed to get going because I had a long drive back. I thanked him for a lovely evening as we hugged. He asked for my address and said he would never stop by without calling first. I left and drove immediately to the Campus Theatre.

The Campus Theatre is in the Tenderloin and features “exotic” male dancers and porn on a large video screen in an old movie theatre. The headliner, usually porn stars, had just finished performing so I walked around cruising the joint to see who was there and when the next show was. A porn video was playing on the screen. There was a really good looking guy in the aisle seat with his pants opened, playing with himself. He never took his eyes off the screen where two guys were locked in a passionate sixty-nine suckfest. I wandered downstairs where the Arena Show had just begun.

You enter the Arena through a doorway covered with a thin black piece of material. Felt I think. There is a dark blue gymnastics mat in the center of the floor and the lighting is dim with red and blue bare bulbs. Seating is on three sides with bleachers three high and cushions on the top two. Guys sit mostly on the top row and most have their dicks out playing with themselves. There are bars attached to the ceiling so the performers have something to hold onto or for acrobatic tricks. Porno Cirque du Soleil.

The young man, (they're usually in their twenties) enters the room and introduces himself like he's done it a thousand times and asks how every one's doing. Nobody answers. There is a seriousness about the whole thing that sometimes makes me giggle. The performer usually begins in shorts, sometimes with a tank top or a vest. Leather. Tonight's entertainment is wearing hiking boots and white socks. He strokes himself and then puts a little baby oil on his hand and sticks it down his tight black bike shorts as he arches his back and throws his head back, eyes closed, ecstatic, mouth open, maybe a little groan as he gets himself hard and then removes his clothes. Sometimes this goes on for a while, but tonight he gets right to the crowd, which consists of myself, an older Asian gentleman who sits too close to me and an older, heavy set guy directly across from me. Other guys come and go throughout the show and while the dancer is over with the older heavy set guy, stroking himself in his face, I move a foot or so away from the Asian gentleman, take out my dick and start in on myself. A good looking guy in his thirties with very sad eyes enters through the curtain and sits down next to me, following my example while staring intently at my hardening cock.

Our Star has made his way to us by now and we both take dollar bills out of out pockets and stuff them in his socks. With his hand on his erect cock, the dancer smiles and positions himself between my sad-eyed friend and myself. We both take our free hand and move it across his body. Pinching a nipple, stroking him and gently caressing his thighs and ass. He puts on a good show of enjoying it and maybe he is, but for the moment this young stud, possible porn star is my date, my knight in no armor, stroking his cock for my pleasure. It's exciting and there's no risk involved, no rejection, and it take all the chance out of dating. It's safe. He then moves on with a promise to return. As soon as he leaves, I reach for my sad-eyed friend just as he reaches for me and we get lost in stroking each other until the Star returns. We take out our dollar bills and shove them into his socks. He's decided we're a couple. He lingers a little longer and then turns around and shoves his ass at us. I take out a five dollar bill and makes sure he sees it before I shove it into his sock. We become a threesome of groping hands and fingers and our knight is in heaven. I lick his ass and he stops, saying we're going to make him come and then moves on to the Asian gentleman. The music has stopped and he moves down to the center of the mat, oils himself again and works in earnest until he sprays a fountain of white rain on the blue mat. He thanks us and then exits through the black curtain while we are left to stick our hard ons back into our pants and hobble out of the Arena.

I make another pass around the downstairs. There is a maze of plywood sheets hung by chains and painted black. They create little cubicles for trysts. The place smells faintly of ancient piss tonight. It's very dark in the maze and as I walk through, the Asian gentleman and a younger Filipino guy try to catch my eye, but I am looking for a pair of sad eyes. We meet and enter into a little alley, immediately undo our belts and unzip as our hard cocks come out and we begin stroking each other, picking up where we left off. I go down into a squat and take his cock into my mouth as he takes my head in his hands, guiding me back and forth.

This continues for a while and when I begin to sense that he's on the verge, I begin stroking him until he cums on the black walls of the maze. I will not cum because I've been training myself to experience orgasm and ejaculation as separate experiences. I've already had about three orgasms. I stand and buckle myself up . When he's finished he puts his hand behind my neck, drawing me to him, kissing me tenderly and leaves.

I walk upstairs to the theatre and into the lobby where I check the schedule to see if there's another arena show tonight. A two man show is on the roster for midnight. The last show of the night. I walk back into the theatre where there are two fifteen foot me fucking on the screen. The sounds of their fucking don't match the action that we're seeing. I go back downstairs where there's another little room with a couch, a couple of chairs and a video on a TV screen. A young Argentinean man is talking to someone unseen off camera, telling him what turns him on in a man. The young man is very engaging and appears to have a very healthy attitude. He is being interviewed before he has sex for the first time on camera with someone he's never met. He seems excited to get to it because he saw the guy. Then they interview the other guy, who is a beautiful black man from Chicago. I can see why he got so excited. They make a great couple and are having sex like they've been doing this their whole lives. The Arena Show is announced over a loud speaker. I wait a few minutes before I make my way there.

As I enter the space, my eyes have to adjust and I can see a few guys and only one performer in the room. Hoping for a different perspective, I decide to find a spot on the opposite side of where I sat before and climb up to the top level, unbuckling myself as I settle in. The new Star is with the Asian gentleman and some new guy as the heavy-set guy enters, sitting about six feet from me on my side. The young Filipino guy is over in a corner jacking off like he's trying to hide it. It makes me laugh. The Star steps down into the center of the room, oiling himself up before he goes over to the heavy-set guy.

The Star is beautiful. Perfectly proportioned with the body of a gymnast and smooth alabaster skin. He steps up onto the first step and reaches up for the bar with both hands and swings his boots up to either side of the heavy-set guy. I'm getting excited because the Star has an air of confidence and a cocky attitude. He's definitely rough and not just around the edges. When he finally comes to me, we exchange hellos and make some great eye contact. He reaches down and grabs me as he slides his well oiled hand up and down my hard shaft. I go a little crazy inside. I take him with my hand at the base of his nine incher and stroke him with the other. He loves it. I reach for a five dollar bill, stuffing it into his sock as my face comes within inches of his cock. A dollar falls out and I reach down again, stuffing it back into his sock. “That feels really good.” he says as I get back to him. “You're really good at it.” I want to kiss him or give him more money or at least a single red rose. He lingers for awhile and then says, “I'll be back.” as he moves on to the next guy. I can't wait. I have never been so turned on by one these guys. This guy has it all. Charm, rough and ready attitude and nine inches of the most gorgeous cock I have seen a long time.

I patiently wait for my turn as my excitement builds. I have can feel another orgasm coming on and I try to hold on. When he gets back to me he jumps up to the bar above our heads, grabbing it with his hands and brings his legs and feet up to the bar, rotating so his ass is right in my face. His anus puckers as he hangs suspended for a few moments. I tap it with two fingers and he moans. Just as I start for his ass with my tongue, he rolls backward, slowly coming back as he brings his feet on either side of me, arching his back, bending his knees and thrusts his cock in my face. I take him into my mouth for a moment and then he slowly and reluctantly pulls out of my mouth. I give him another five dollar bill as I say, “Well earned.”

“Thank you,” he replies as he grabs my cock and strokes me again. I take him in hand again. “I want to talk to you after the show.” Holy shit! The sexual energy and tension in the room is thick. This guys is good. He's got the room worked up into a sexual frenzy. He moves away slowly maintaining eye contact as he moves to the center of the room. He strokes himself for awhile and then takes a bow, thanking everyone for coming and announces that he is available for shower shows if any one is interested. He looks at me and winks.

The room clears as everyone follows him like the Pied Piper of Sex out of the Arena. I wait until my raging boner goes down a bit and then stand to buckle up again, making my way to the shower room, not wanting to seem too eager. He's standing naked stroking himself nonchalantly, asking the Asian gentleman if he's interested in a shower show as I walk into the room with the TV and couch. I cross over to where he is standing. He grabs the lapel of my jacket and draws me into the shower room.

“What's a shower show?” I ask as if I didn't know.

“Well, usually it's thirty bucks, but if you shoot your load on my cock, we'll call it even.” He closes the door and locks it.

The universe has just opened up and gold coins are pouring down into that tiled, dimly lit room with this young blond Adonis with a hard on, full sensual lips telling me he wants to end my evening by shooting my stored up load on his thick nine inches.

“OK,” I say casually like people ask me to do this all the time as I unbuckle for the final time. I'm hard again in no time with precum all over the head of my cock and suddenly my wood elf jumps onto a ledge about two feet off the ground with his erect penis staring at me and says, “I wanna feel your mouth on me again.”

I take him in as he starts fucking my face. He's really getting into it and so am I. I am all over that cock. At one point he's thrusting and I'm sucking to the beat of whatever music is playing on the speakers and I'm hoping it will go on forever. I'm drunk on the experience. Every sense is heightened as I take all nine inches and don't choke. I spit on it, lubing it up while I give my jaws a break, stroking his cock.

He tells me that I was the only one who kept him hard and that tonight was dead for him except for me. I'm ready to explode. I tell him and he jumps down.

“I wanna see you shoot that load,” he says his best pornographic voice.

I waddle over to him with my pants around my ankles while we both pound our meat, looking at each other as I bust my nut all over his pubes and cock with one of the biggest payloads I've ever shot.

“Fuck yeah,” he growls.

“I was saving that for you.” I say as gets the paper towels. I stop him just before he wipes it up, falling to my knees and licking his cock and pubes clean.

“That is so fucking hot!” he says again with his dirty boy voice. I love it.

I stand and he hands me a paper towel as he finishes cleaning himself and I wipe my chin.

“How long have you been doing this?” I ask.

“Off and on for about two years.”

“You're really good. I'm writing a play about this. I find the whole thing fascinating. I'll bet you get guys that are obsessed with you all the time.”

“Oh, yeah.”

He introduces himself and tells me he's a television actor and he just finished working on the set of Don Johnson's new show that films in San Francisco. We laugh about the coincidence.

“I'll never tell,” I say jokingly.

“Oh, I don't care. They all know and I've done a bunch of pornos, so it's no secret.”

I love his attitude. It's so refreshing.

He asks me for my card and I give to him as he wishes me good luck with the play. He tells me I should include this night in it.

“It'll be the climax.” I joke as I walk out into the room filled with the heavy-set guy, the Asian gentleman, the Filipino guy and a bunch of new faces. They gaze longingly as I pass by them quickly and hear him asking if any one's interested in a shower show.

On my drive home I reflect on how quickly the night turned and what I dream about and really want is someone like my Porn Star.  But like I said, it's just a dream.

Divorced, gay, white male seeking someone with a cocky self assured attitude, sensual full lips, nine inches of gorgeous cock and a gymnast's body. Possible long term relationship, but a few nights of fun would be alright too.