At Long Last
ã By Riley James
Thanks to Tim for editing this work for me. Your talents, as always, are greatly appreciated.
*****
I could feel the smooth glans graze the roof of my mouth on the way to take up its residence in the back of my throat. He had been there so many times. Given me so many pleasures these last months. As the seven inches of his slightly curved cock slid past the brink of the natural abyss leading to my gullet, I gave him everything I had, swallowing two, three, four times before I could feel the liquid lava of his testicles erupt down into me.
I pulled back ever so gently as to not aggravate the oversensitive head of his penis that was twitching against my tongue. A single tear slipped from his eye. He was melancholy this week. Our lives, crossing some ten months ago, had tentatively replaced the sorrow emanating from his soul, but I still sometimes caught him not believing that I was so enamored of him. After I kissed the tear away, we rose and began the routine of our day.
Standing at the sink after our showers, we hurriedly shaved and brushed our teeth. He glanced over toward me and I smiled. The reflection of us, not marred by dreams of grandeur, told our tale. We were past the age where trifles like build and the illusions of a pretty face mattered. The prime of our lives was upon us and I had to remind him constantly that these things made no difference to me. It was his heart and soul that made him so enigmatic and sparked my interest.
Rinsing my cereal bowl in the sink and placing it in the dishwasher, I reached for his and started the cycle. He still sat drinking his morning coffee as I sidled up beside him and nuzzled his neck.
“You promise to try and have a good day? No letting the little monsters tie you to the desk and torture you now! Tell them that I will have to come down there and prove I am far superior to their quick thinking little minds if they do.” I kissed the wide breadth of his neck behind his ear and slipped my arms around his chest, full and bursting with longing and desire to repeat the act that bonded us this morning.
He smiled as I passed back in front of the kitchen counter on the way to the front door, my work boots trod heavily on the linoleum.
“I love you, you know?” He said quietly.
I beamed, “Yeah, babe I do. And I love you, whether you believe it or not!” I winked as I headed out the door, burning the image of his lovely graying hair, rosy cheeks and drowning eyes into my brain for the day.
His self-confidence had mostly returned after the first few weeks I stayed around after meeting him that day on the train, but every now and then, like this morning, I caught him slipping back into the questioning, unsure single man I watched from across a crowded commuter train.
*****
As I started my truck and let it idle, the memory of our chance of luck, fate, kismet, whatever you want to call it rolled around in my mind. Never in a million years would I have thought that I could find love twice in a lifetime, but there it was averting my glances not some 20 yards from me…
As I finished up from my long day, the locker room at the yard seemed empty. Most of the men had already left around three. The day before Christmas was still a work day and I had volunteered to be on call, fending off whatever emergency might arise with the aging water and sewer system over the holiday. I changed out of my waterproof work pants and pulled my walking shoes back on. The air was cold and crisp and the chill would keep me alert on my stroll to the station. I blew on my hands as I walked, forgetting my gloves in the kitchen of my small apartment that morning. The rush of the day had passed, but there were still quite a few people on the train. I shuffled past most, smiling from the happier faces I encountered this time of year and found a seat.
I surveyed the crowd. I loved watching people, and the day before my favorite holiday was no exception. I loved to think of what their situations might be as I played devil’s advocate for them. Along the wall next to me was a woman in her mid to late forties. A scarf lightly encircled her carefully coifed tresses and a raincoat clenched tightly in her grasp, covered a shimmering black party dress. She was, in my mind, a well-known lady of high society. Her administrative assistant had called in sick this morning, much to her disappointment and left her to run her own errands. How much more demeaning could that be, she thought to herself, as I giggled to myself in my scenario.
There
were two construction guys sitting across from me wide stances and burly
shoulders giving away their profession. They… let’s see they were two
buddies, friends for their entire lives, growing up together on the shores of
I looked around for another victim. Green eyes flashed up from under a hat that had seen its better days. When I openly stared at him, he purposely looked out the window, fearing perhaps, I was a mugger or a pervert.
I let my eyes drift away from him to ease his suspicions. In my quick appraisal I had seen a man of some substance. Early forties, graying at the temples, his face appeared haggard and withdrawn. I didn’t have to spin a yarn of mystery around him, his story was written all over him. From his downward stare to his disheartening body language, he reeked of loneliness and apathy. I knew him, hell I almost became him.
When my lover of twenty years died suddenly of a heart attack three years ago, I spiraled into grief and despair. Family and friends pulled me back from the brink of the chasm in my heart, never letting me alone long enough to get so deep into myself that I would never return. I was lucky, my sister and brother and their families meant the world to me and I immersed my life with the role of perfect uncle until my heart found repose. I still looked at the spot in the park where we passed many a summer’s day reading to each other or just relaxing with a tinge of sadness, but I had found that life goes on, with or without your participation.
A couple of stops had drawn the few other people in our car to their final destinations, leaving me there with my suspicious friend. I gathered my courage and approached him. Again his stare left me and scurried to find a hiding place. I extended my hand and spoke to him. He visibly shuttered with surprise.
“Hi,” I said. “I’m Loren Whittier.” His eyes again darted up from under the brim of his tattered hat appraising the lunatic before him.
“Look, I know I could be the slasher from hell and you don’t know me from Adam, but it being Christmas Eve and all, I just thought I would say hello at least.” I sighed; I didn’t think I was getting through to him.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to bother you.” I started to return to my seat.
“No,” he said, as I was half way back to my previous position. “Don’t go.”
I turned and looked at him. His head sank against his chest and I couldn’t help but wonder just how alone this man really was. He looked back and begged me with his eyes to return. I came over and sat where I had before, giving him plenty of space and not reaching into his comfort zone again with my greeting. This time though, his hand extended to me.
“It’s very nice to meet you Loren Whittier, I’m Neal… Neal Cartwright.” His hands were puffy and red from the winter cold. I shook his hand in greeting, feeling the firm grip and despite their appearance, a warm body temperature.
“I just wanted to say what a gracious thing that was for you to do. I can’t remember when ever in my forty seven years I have been approached by a complete stranger simply to extend a greeting.” He was very well spoken and reminded me of a proper English gentleman. He took off his hat and held it in his lap.
“Thanks Neal, I just thought you looked like you needed a friend today.” I wanted to say more, but I held back. My success at judging sexual preference based on outward appearances was iffy at best. I didn’t need him bolting before I could try to get to know him, at least a little.
“Where are you headed buddy? Home to the family for Christmas?” I suspected there were no wife and kiddies waiting at home for him, but testing the waters was safe for now.
“No, no. I don’t have a family, Loren. Only my cats will be sprawled on the furniture awaiting my return.” Neal’s eyes did indeed tell a sad story.
“You in the city?” I pried even further.
“No, just this side of
“Well I’m off here at the last NY stop. I don’t either by the way.” I fished the line out there.
“Don’t what?” His brow peaked.
“Have a family to go home to.” I watched closely to see his reaction.
He was deep in thought. “I see. Well, in any case it was a pleasure to meet you my courteous friend.”
*****
We had slowly opened up to each other in those first months, my hope and enthusiasm finally wearing down his reserve and cynicism. He never believed that I was in it for the long haul and even though I told him over and over how much I adored him, he never let himself believe it. One day when I had been completely fed up by his dreary attitude, I shouted to him from the upstairs landing as he was leaving for the academy.
“I love you Neal Cartwright, whether you believe me or not. I am going to be your lover for the rest of your life and I will not leave you or our lives together, no matter what. You are a stubborn, self-absorbed prick sometimes. And until you stop worrying what I see in you and accept that what I am attracted to is you, all of you, body, brain, heart and soul then we are never going to get past the emptiness you felt for all of those years.” I was sweating and shaking as I finished my tirade. His eyes filled with tears as he reached for the door handle and left the house. I slammed my hand down on the banister enough to sprain my wrist. I guess I’m lucky I didn’t break the railing.
Later that afternoon, trying for the millionth time to relax and enjoy my vacation day, the doorbell rang. I peeked out of the living room window, pulling the sheers to one side and saw a delivery van from the local florist. I opened the door and there stood a lovely young man, holding an even lovelier bouquet of creamy roses. He asked for Loren Whittier and I signed my name to his ledger. I took the flowers to the kitchen table and sat down, pulling the card from the holder. I knew of course whom they were from, but secretly I was hopeful that I had finally gotten through to him. The card said simply…
I know you do… I’m sorry ~N
Now with those months of uncertainty behind us we slipped into a familiar, comfortable routine. I knew that as much as he hated to admit it, Neal was ready to leave the hurt of his earlier life behind him. The car would be a different story. That was the planned topic of discussion for tonight’s dinner. We probably wouldn’t need a fire to warm the chilling September air this evening, as the heated conversation would keep us both rather toasty.
I pulled up to the small parking lot that housed my new Dodge Ram at the water department in our town. It hadn’t been difficult to transfer out here, my twenty plus years of experience were well received in the small, close knit public works department. I sat there looking around as the radio played a sexy saxophone solo. I loved jazz and as one of the many things Neal and I had in common, it reminded me of him and his cool, reserved persona. The one I fell in love with on Christmas day last year.
*****
The train had come to a stop at my station. I looked back over my shoulder thinking that I would probably never see this guy again.
“Neal, would you like to come and have a drink with me before you go home?” He seemed astonished at me yet again.
“Why yes Loren that would be lovely.” He gathered his aging leather case and reached for his gloves in his coat pocket. His hat (which I promptly threw out the first week I was there) perched on his head, droopy and exhausted from years of use, making him look quite a bit older than he was.
“Good, well there’s a little place right by my apartment that should still be open.” We walked for a couple of blocks, talking about the weather and the city, until we reached the neighborhood pub near my building. The Blue Note was a little jazz joint that I hung out in. They had weekly talent night and a saxophonist named Earl that I could sit all night and listen to. The drinks were pretty crummy but I only wanted to have another little bit to see if I was right about Neal.
“Do you always spend the holidays alone, Neal?” Later he told me how virtually transparent I was, but I had to find out more about him and direct questions at this late stage of the day were the fastest way to the truth.
“No, I
usually go to my sister’s in
“What about you Loren, don’t you have anyone in your life? A girlfriend maybe?” He was coy but not convincing and I winked at him, placing my hand on top of his on the little round table. The light was low and there weren’t many people in the place.
“I think we both know that I don’t have a girlfriend Neal. And I think we both know that there is a spark between us.” So much for holding anything back. If he was gonna bolt, now was definitely the time.
“I must say, Loren, I think you have now shocked me three times in the space of only a few hours. I didn’t think that was possible. I should admit to you, that I am extremely flattered at your comments.” His smile was sincere and heartwarming. It was now or never.
“Neal, what do
you say we spend Christmas Eve together?” I got it out without tripping
on my tongue, which was what usually happened when I propositioned another
man. Of course before my lover
“Well Loren, I think in light of the turn in the conversation that might be a very welcome Christmas gift indeed.” Neal squeezed my fingers into his grasp and I returned the gesture.
“Why don’t we get out of here then? Your place or mine?” I quizzed him.
“I know we are quite close to yours, but since you are in an apartment, maybe my home would be a bit more comfortable. Would you like to stop by your place and pick up some essentials for the trip?” Like a change of clothes for tomorrow morning’ I thought still fixated on his deep green eyes.
“Sure, that would be great. I’ll just grab a couple of things and we’ll be on our way.” I paid the tab and we emerged from the little club in the darkness. We walked the block or so to my building and went upstairs to my apartment. It wasn’t a dive, but it wasn’t the Waldorf either. Old newspapers littered the kitchen counter where I usually sat reading them before I went to work. Yesterday’s dishes still sat in the sink and I’m sure there was a stray pair of boxers on the floor by my couch. ‘Eeew, why do I do these things to myself? Maybe I can grab them on my way to the bedroom without him seeing.’ I rationalized quickly.
I think I managed to stuff the underwear away into my hand and disappear into the bedroom without him noticing anything, shouting ‘I’d be right back.’, but I wasn’t sure. Packing a little gym bag with some jeans, a t-shirt and a flannel, some clean briefs and socks, I went back into the family room and dropped the bag on my rocking chair. Neal stood in the vestibule of the tiny apartment, not wanting to invade my privacy.
“Would you please come in and relax?” I laughed. “Would you like to use the restroom before we go or have a quick glass of something?” I was trying to be hospitable, but not patronizing.
“Thank you Loren, I should probably use the lavatory, yes.” Neal excused himself after I pointed the way to the john.
When he came back I was standing at the breakfast bar scanning the mail from yesterday. I hadn’t had a chance to look at it before this. He came up to me and looked into my eyes. I was going to try and shock him one more time. I leaned forward and kissed him ever so gently on the lips. They were warm despite the cool temperature in the apartment. I leaned back and waited for his reply.
Instead of another eloquent little speech, he put his hand behind my head and pulled me to him again. His lips traced the outline of mine, skirting across the close-cropped hair of my mustache and beard. I opened my mouth and his tongue found mine in an instant. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, so to speak, but one of inquiry and investigation.
“We had better get moving my good sir, or I am liable to have you on your back in my bed in a matter of minutes.” I smiled whole heartedly at him and his hand pressed against my crotch.
“Yes, well that might be the case.” I looked at his fly and could see that there was indeed a small bulge beginning to form. “It might be fun to explore those possibilities here and now Loren, but I think waiting might make it all the more special indeed.”
I
loved listening to Neal’s high brow speech pattern. Of course what I
wanted to love was growing in his pants. It had been a long time
since I had been with a lover. After
I resigned myself to
the decision to stay the sexual encounter and we headed out and back to the
train station.
After
too much wine and a lot of nostalgia, I told him of my relationship with
He told me of his own situation. Too worried to come out to any of his family or friends, he set about to making a life for himself. One in which he thought he would never share with another person. After all who would want him? He was past him prime in the looks department (not according to me, but…) and no one really knew he was gay, so there was no interaction with a potential candidate at any level.
Of course I rebutted his questions regarding his looks and told him I found him attractive, funny, charming and sexy. He said I was only trying to seduce him and I became wounded. Even though he was slightly joking, it was a defense mechanism for him. I knew it, I used it too, for heaven’s sake, but I told him with earnest that I found nothing amusing about it. I would not tell him something that was not true and I surely would not follow him to his home on Christmas Eve purely in pursuit of another one-night stand.
We cleaned up the kitchen and did the dishes afterwards retiring to the lounge, as he called it, with a brandy. His cats, Jody and Buffy were indeed languishing about; however, I doubted seriously if they had been patiently awaiting his return. Cats had always been too independent for me, I was more of a dog person, but Neal said his cats were company and they wound themselves between us begging for attention. Jody seemed taken with me and promptly plopped himself in my lap and went to sleep. I laughed and told Neal I had a way with strange men. He chuckled himself and put his hand over mine on the back of the couch.
I stroked his fingers and looked across at this stranger. He had an inner light that seemed to be trying to break free. I would catch him smiling at me, his eyes sparkling. We finally finished our brandies and moved the cats to a carpet covered “tree” in the corner that Neal had set up for them. When Jody was down and out of my arms, Neal reached for me again. The kiss was more urgent this time. I fought to keep control of my senses, avoiding the desire to lose myself totally in what I was feeling.
He whispered in my ear. “I can hardly believe that this is happening Loren.” His voice was raspy and sexy, thick with the same lust that I felt coursing through my body. My cock was a steel pole and I was already leaking copiously.
After leading me to his modestly decorated bedroom, he whispered in my ear. “Will you make love to me Loren, please?” He already knew the answer before he asked the question, but being the formal person he was, he needed permission.
“Neal, I want you too! I am practically dying for you baby.” With a little more hesitation he let me unbutton his shirt. I knew I was going to have to take this slow. I wanted him to be comfortable and if that meant taking all night, I was bound and determined to please him. His paunch hung over the waistline of his pants and after promising to turn off every light in the bedroom he let me take the trousers. He lay back on the bed and I lifted his boxers off of his hips, carefully folding them and placing them on a nearby chair, I returned to his shivering form.
I bent over him starting with his ear and lightly kissed his sturdy face. I nibbled and sucked on his earlobes, finding a hot spot just slightly below on his neck. My hands went to his chest and rubbed the ample flesh, arousing his nipples from their hiding places and moving to suck them into my mouth.
My
tongue swirled on each, eliciting moans from my newfound lover, emanating deep
in his lungs. I explored each new inch of his chest with my lips and tongue,
wanting to prove to him that I cherished him for everything that he was, inside
and out! When the long journey to his throbbing cock was at last
complete, I buried my face in his groin, savoring the sweet, heady smell of
pure masculinity. I licked his balls and nipped his perineum, causing a
violent spasm of desire to erupt through his nervous system. I sucked the
head of his circumcised penis into my mouth,
dancing my tongue around the glans
and letting him control the motion. I knew he was close to shooting, so I
let him pump my mouth until he easily slipped into my throat. There was
no return from this place as I prepared to swallow him. Not to brag but my oral skills kept
I knew from the moment I awoke with Neal that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. Being the logical old codger he was, he was not so convinced of my self-professed feelings for him and would not let me speak of it to him after that day for some time. But when I continued to arrive every Friday evening on the train, he began to resign himself to my amore. Time, as with everything else, has a way of working itself out.
For Neal and me, two seemingly lost souls in a sea of humanity, this was our time. Our time to live and laugh and love, for the sake of ourselves, our loved ones and our community, not to mention for the sake of life itself.