Reunion on Staten Island

Mom was full of questions, but I blew them off with the comment that we were late and that I needed to dress. And so, minutes later, we entered the pew for the 10 o'clock Mass--one that she had attended for more than 30 years, occupying this same seat. As usual it was a boring homily--which assumed that none of us had listened when the Gospel had been read a minute or two before. Afterwards, we stayed for coffee with her friends who were all wishing her well in retirement and trying to hitch me to their spinster daughters.

Our normal routine was to have a quick lunch at home. Then she'd make a roast for a five o'clock supper. I had other plans for later. So I talked her into a big brunch--and even invited two of her friends to join us--sort of a farewell celebration. They'd distract her, and she wouldn't dare inquire about last night in front of "strangers"--women she had known for so many years.

We got home around 2, and I quickly changed into summer gear again. Then I announced that I was going to watch the game with a friend and asked whether she needed anything before I left. "No dinner for me tonight, Mom. We'll have more snacks than we should. And that brunch used up my calories for the day. I won't be home late." And I left before she could quiz any more.

Billy was waiting, dressed as he was the previous day. He pulled me into a tight bro-hug and his lips sought mine. We were going to start right where we left off. And I was fine with that. I had decided that this was a weekend of decision for me. Either I was going to cut Billy off and avidly seek a female partner, starting tomorrow--or I was going to admit I was bi, maybe even gay. And Billy and I were going to become really good friends again. With benefits.

It was instantly clear to me that Billy had already decided. His hands were rubbing my ass and his hard dick was peaking above his waistband as we hugged.

I handed him the six pack--which meant he had to release my ass, and pushed him back from the landing into the apartment. This time, I actually looked around. It was a really nice place. Although the exterior and the woodwork betrayed more than a 100 years of age, it had been completely modernized. New kitchen. Modern leather, masculine furniture. Small dining table and chairs. Lots of electronics. And two bedrooms--one of which we had spent time in. The view was spectacular. The sun set behind the triple-decker, but bounced off the windowed buildings just across the river. It was like looking into a sun-mirror. The Hudson was rough today, but deep blue beneath the small white-caps. There were a number of sail boats and at least as many small tourist boats headed around Manhattan. To the far right, stood the majestic Statue of Liberty. The million-dollar-view.

As I stood looking out the window, he approached from behind, wrapped his arms around me, nuzzled my nape and pulled me into him. One hand unbuttoned my shorts and dropped down inside to fondle by dick which was quickly steel hard. I could feel his was too as he slipped it up and down my crack.

He abruptly released me and motioned me to the sofa. Then, he turned on the game. "I worked out this morning. It felt really good. How about you?"

"Took Mom to church. And I confessed our sins and asked for forgiveness." I knew that Billy too had been Catholic, but when his father divorced, that was the end of the church going.

"They have confessions on Sunday now? I presume you weren't too specific about the sins--and the sinners?"

"Actually neither. No Sunday confessions. And I didn't confess any sin. What we did, Billy, was not a sin. Nothing that feels so natural and so good could be sinful. If you had kept up with Sunday School, you'd know that."

"What church did you go to, boy? I've heard the hell and damnation speeches of the Catholic priests in this Diocese. And the total condemnation of the decadent homosexual lifestyle."

"Not any more. At least not here. We've got a new guy, and he seems to be pretty cool. Now it's all about love and mercy, not sin and condemnation."

"I guess the Cardinal hasn't heard about him yet. Or he'd be gone by now."

"I wouldn't know about that. Frankly, until yesterday, I had no reason to even think about such things. You rocked my world yesterday, Billy. I'm not yet steady enough to even think about what I need to think about. Does that make sense?"

"No, it doesn't. So long as you're up for what I'm up for this afternoon it doesn't matter to me. I'm kind of a today kind of guy."

"Set your mind at ease, boy. I've thought a little. And I don't have any regrets. Only expectations...." And with those words, I pulled him to me and Frenched him deep as my hand began its exploration inside his open fly.

"But, maybe we need to get a few things out of the way. You didn't wrap, yesterday. Do I need to be worried? I didn't either, but I've only had a few girls and, of course, I always wrapped. I don't want a shot-gun wedding to end my youth."

"Don't worry. I'm clean. I've only had a few partners. We both always tested. I hate wrappers, but I've used them when there was any question. Next question?"

"Is there a special guy--or girl in your life right no."

"Nah. Next question."

"How about your folks. Do they know you're gay? Wait, a minute, are you gay?"

"Mom disappeared after the divorce. I haven't heard from her in about ten years. Dad doesn't know. He probably never will. He's pretty sick. Cancer. We moved him to Hospice a month ago. It was getting too hard to get the pain reliever prescriptions filled. And he was in pain, big time. So my brother and I made the decision. We don't really get along and don't have much to do with each other. Dad was the lynchpin. Peter is running the trucking business. They supply materials for most of the big jobs in the Metro area. Dad already moved Peter up to head of the transportation company last year. I'm supposed to move up to Dad's slot in the contracting business when he dies. But, I'm not anxious to do so. I like running a crew and going home at night. I don't need the hassle of the contracting, the bidding, finance, payroll, the inspections--and the payoffs. He took care of all of that. I've just started learning."

"And he's not going to know. It will kill him." Billy grimaced at that last line, realizing the cancer was going to do the job.

"And to answer your question, I'm pretty sure I'm gay--and when you're in my bed, I'm sure of it. I've always been attracted to you, Kyle. I just didn't know it when we were younger. I think I've been in love with you for more than ten years and never realized it."

"How can you be a project manager? I'd guessed that most of those rough guys were homophobes."

"They don't know. And they'd never guess that a guy built like me could be gay. It's never come up."

"And, how about you? What's going on?"

"Well, I told you Pop died last year. Mom is headed for Florida where my sisters live already. She's got a half-dozen grandkids already. She'll be happy. She's kinda naïve, and I don't think she'd even dream that I'd be in bed with a man."

"I can't really say that I like the job at F&B. I've been a go-fer and an apprentice for almost 4 years. The hours are horrendous. The work is usually interesting. The pay is really good. And, like every associate I have every reason to believe I'll make partner--in 5 or 6 years, assuming they don't change the rules between now and then. But, it's my whole life. That and working out--and getting Mom ready to move. I haven't had a date in over a year. Lunch with a co-associate doesn't really count. I'll be looking for a place to live next week. Probably downtown. My family isn't leaving me anything--except my own bed and a few pieces of crappy furniture. And apartments are incredibly expensive. I like to have a roommate so we could afford something nicer but probably don't have time to find one until next fall."

"And until yesterday, I never thought I was gay."

"Never? Really? Even with the jerk off sessions we had in senior year?"

"You forget. I'm a Catholic. Everything to do with sex--even thinking about it--is a sin. I was actually taught and believed until a few years ago that my guardian angel was sitting on my right shoulder--and he'd see and stop any sex, of any kind!! The fact that priests and bishops have been predators, fucking little boys, blew that idea out of the park--or at least out of me. They were forbidding us to do what they were doing. They were keeping it to themselves. And picking on little boys. They weren't even man enough to find an adult partner. When Mom heads to Florida, I'm done with the church."

"Billy, you awakened a sleeping giant yesterday. Until you, I was almost fuckin celibate." I paused for just a moment and scanned his body. "I want you to fuck me--right now. And I want to fuck you to."

"Well, as long as your imagination is focused on my cock, you're on, boy. You can have him anytime. He's yours, babe. And if that saint on your shoulder wants to watch, I'm okay with that too. I'm not ashamed of my body, my dick or my technique. I've always been a bit of an exhibitionist--if only on a beach in the Caribbean or behind my picture window.

"I can attest to all of that. I love the body. And the dick is pretty talented."

"So shall we take this to my bedroom? Yesterday was seduction. Today, I'm gonna make love. If you weren't convinced you are gay after last night, you will be by tonight."

We left the game on the TV. It wasn't very interesting anyway. We both stripped and stepped into his bed. I noticed he had changed the bedding. He stretched out on his back and beckoned me to climb on. Fuck, I couldn't wait to feel our skin together. I dove for his mouth and started to duel, sucking on his tongue and allowing him to do the same with mine. All the while I was diddling with his tits, and he was massaging my glutes. It was getting hotter, really hotter.

After a few, he rolled me over and stretched out on top. I spread my legs and he dropped down inside. We were already prepared to gallop. He was in the saddle. And it felt so good.

He knelt back and stared into my eyes. I think I saw softness, maybe even a bit of love. He moved to his haunches, and I knew the rubric. I raised my legs and held them outstretched and high, rolling back. He pushed a pillow under to keep me in position. Then he bent, my calves fell to his shoulders, and his tongue laved the cleft and the rim and, curling, pushed into me. In a million years, I never would have thought of that as sexy. But the jolt of electricity short-circuited all of my ancient taboos. It felt good. Really good! So this is wht eating is all about. His hands on my ass lifted me into his tongue and he deepened the thrust. "Billy, it's too much. I'm gonna cum. I need you inside."

"Not so fast, dear boy." His hand moved to my shaft and forming a ring with thumb and first finger, he squeezed hard. I think he pushed the cum back down into my balls. My dick softened. Shit, it almost wilted. But, it wasn't long before I felt the soft/hard head of his dick knocking on my doorway.

"Yes," I screamed. "I'm open. Cum on in. Please."

This time he penetrated slowly, being sure to brush my prostate. But steadily he went down. Into my sensitive chute. And hit bottom. God, he felt good. But, I hadn't felt the pubes. His dick head had bottomed, but he still had a few inches.

"We're gonna try a little something extra this afternoon, Kyle."

I felt the pressure deep inside and the expansion of his massive dick in my shaft. Was it possible? He was getting longer and thicker? Then there was a sharp pain, deep inside again, and suddenly his cock was washed in fluid. The pain diminished and was replaced with a euphoric fullness and the feeling of being totally open to being owned by someone else. My entire body was impaled on his dick. I was his fuckin' puppet. Anything he wanted, I would have given him at that moment.

He continued to move, newly re-lubed with my internal juices, sliding and pounding as his eyes stared into mine. We were mirroring the intense pleasure of joint ownership. Of raw pleasure. The physicality that only two guys can achieve.

Suddenly, he cursed under his breath, and started to pound like a madman. He had passed the point of no return. And we both exploded again. I felt his spasms and matched them with my own. And my legs dropped automatically to clutch him closer to me. He wasn't going to let him leave me. I needed him inside. I needed his seed.

And just as quickly as it hit, it subsided. He collapsed on top, and we squirmed in my cum between our chests. His nose was flared, like a bull. He had succumbed to my musk. Everything I had always thought about the penetration and domination of another was set on its head. Why had I been so dumb? When you take a girl, you get off--but she then owns you. You want it again--and you're only gonna get it if you do as she wants.

Sure he had penetrated, and he had shot inside. But doing so meant that I owned an important part of him--his spunk, his seed, his future. Sure, he had fucked me--but I think that I'd pulled more from him than he had ever given or revealed about himself. He was spent. He had filled me, but in doing so, he had become mine. That cock was mine. That body was mine. He'd do anything I wanted for a repeat opportunity. But with a guy it was different: we could both do it. We could both feel this good.

His head dropped into my shoulder hollow and my hands went to his luxurious long blonde hair and held him close to me. A few minutes later I reached around and grabbed his muscled ass cheeks. Those were mine too.

I realized at last what it meant to be gay and a power bottom.

After a little while, we returned to the game--nude, munching on junk food and drinking the IPAs I had brought. Periodically, he'd reach over and stroke my cock, and I'd respond by scooping up his balls and rolling them in my hand. We had grown totally comfortable with each other.

During one of the extended multiple commercial breaks, he inquired about my plans--specifically where I intended to move in a couple of weeks I responded truthfully that I hadn't really looked yet, but intended to start the next day--assuming the partners give me a few hours to do so. He went silent and thought for a long time.

Soon he started talking, "One of the jobs that Dad did a few years ago was a condo complex in Lower Manhattan. It's just on the Hudson side of the WTC complex--1 Westway Tower. And he got a perk: he got to buy in at pre-construction prices with no commissions and no extras. So he sprung for a small one-bedroom. I think he was planning to use it for a secret love nest. Then the cancer hit. He's had it rented for a few years, but last week we got notice the tenant is not going to renew. His lease is up on June 30--in three weeks. Interested?"

"Sure. I don't know the building, but given the address, I doubt that I could afford it."

"It's really small. And I'm pretty sure we can make it work for you--under one condition."

"In New York there's always a quid pro quo, isn't there? You rub my dick and I'll rub yours!"

"I want you to become my consigliere after Dad dies. The business is really large, and I don't like the current lawyers. Dad did most everything himself. So we've only a couple of managers. They're all Dad's age or older and his friends. All of them have always treated me like an incompetent kid. I'd like some help with the administrative stuff. But, I want my guy."

"I'm sure we could work something out."

"Oh, another thing. I'm a really demanding client. I expect my personal lawyer to be available for consultation 24/7--and he's got to make house calls, particularly on weekends."

"Billy, I'm not sure how much leeway I can get from the firm. They're not fond of young associates bringing in clients. Maybe we can work something out. I'd like to try."

"If the firm doesn't like it, fuck'm. I'm sure we can make you one of those offers you can't refuse. Then I'd be your boss. I'd like that. According to Dad, we're one of the biggest contractor clients in the City. Any firm would be happy to have us as clients--unless they're afraid to get their shoes dirty. So..... deal?"

As he was speaking those last words, one fist was stroking my shaft while the other was diddling my balls. "Yeah, deal. Do I really have any choice? You've got my future in your hands right now."

"Actually, you don't, have a choice, that is. I usually get my way--as you've learned in the last 24 hours. I've heard that contracts need to be signed, sealed and delivered. I'm still waiting for your next delivery, babe."

The game ended--and we won. I knew that we had just witnessed a good omen.

I stood and led Billy to bed. I guess it was time to deliver.

BD