No appointments today. A chance to rest, perhaps, after a weekend of endless sunshine, sand and surf; but no - and I think it best I confess up-front - I was disinclined to rest. I was determined to visit people and, given half a chance, I was fairly determined to have sex as well. Maybe I've put on hold all my ill-defined and fluffy dreams of commitment and companionship. Maybe I'm just going through a "use it or lose it" phase.
First I rang Pam and invited myself over for lunch. That girl is almost never out and about, and she is always most accommodating about my sporadic incursions into her life. Of course we talk on the phone once or twice a week and I am always interested to hear how her sessions with Tony are coming along. It appears to me that she has made great strides cognitively but I get no sense that this is aligning with her emotions. It's all very well to appreciate that sex is meant to be enjoyable, but that is no help if you remain so detached from the process that sex still feels like a chore. I just can't see Pam ever investing herself physically and emotionally with another person. She may one day re-marry, achieve a merger with some guy, but she and he will never merge in the sense that I feel two bodies should entwine.
Anyway, lunch was brilliant - freshly-made salmon cakes, a delicious lemon-based sauce and tossed green salad. Pam may never be a goddess in the bedroom but she sure can cook. As we ate, she talked about how much progress she feels she is making with Tony's help. I enjoy it when we chat because Pam is an intelligent lady who takes considerable interest in world affairs. Her views are never passionately expressed, nor are they ever remotely controversial, but she becomes almost animated if the topic is interesting enough. It's only when you get physically close to Pam - when dancing for example - that you feel the shutters coming down and she suddenly appears stiff and uncomfortable. As I've discovered on previous visits, sex doesn't merely cause the shutters to come down; it's more like a drawbridge being raised, leaving either withdrawal or a solitary swim in the moat as one's only options.
I asked Pam if she'd like to spend next Sunday at my place so we could go kayaking together, play tennis with the kids and have a nice leisurely lunch, just as we did a few weeks back. She was obviously pleased to be invited and asked if I'd like her to bring anything with her in the way of food or drink. I told her just to bring herself and some old clothes to wear while rambling about and getting wet or dirty. I prefer to do all the catering myself when I entertain. We chatted for a while longer and then I yawned and joked about how lingering over lunch always makes me feel sleepy. I was a bit startled when Pam asked me if I'd like to take a nap. I've been around long enough to recognise a euphemism when I hear one. My cock is equally well-educated and began to take a keen interest in the conversation.
I toyed with the idea for a while before denying any interest in taking a nap. Lust is a strong and selfish emotion, but I had no burning desire to treat Pam to another joyless sex lesson. Instead, taking the bull by the horns, I suggested that Pam look for a way to meet and even date a few nice guys with a view to finding someone with whom she might be happy. As had happened previously, Pam suggested that Mr Nice-Guy might be me. That might sound flattering to some but not to me. I do not regard my sexual interludes with Pam as the actions of Mr Nice-Guy. I feel they were more the actions of Mr Opportunistic and, worse than that, they were singularly lacking in any sense of mutual pleasure. Too cowardly to put this into words, I explained that I'm going through a phase right now where relationships and commitment are difficult. I also explained that I could stay no longer anyway as I had an appointment elsewhere. This was true. I'd arranged to visit Steve on my way home.
So we re-confirmed next Sunday's luncheon at my place, said our goodbyes - a peck on the cheek and a stiff hug - and I headed towards Steve's shack knowing that my underwear could bear mute testimony to how close I'd come to accepting Pam's offer of a nap. Cocks really do drool with anticipation. Mine had done a little dance in my briefs, leaving a silvery snail-trail of pre-cum at every point of the compass!
Steve had already downed tools for the day when I arrived. He smiled and hugged me tight, depositing a soft kiss on the side of my neck. We are now more than mere gym buddies. We chat each evening on the telephone too and I regard him as a very dear friend. We never talk of anything beyond tomorrow. I know he senses my reservations about becoming deeply involved with anyone, let alone a guy, and I respect his restraint because it is clear that deep involvement is something that he does seek. Sadly, he regards me with a tenderness that approaches infinity. I say sadly because I am too recently emerged from several years of mourning - preceded by some twenty years as a happily married man - to be able to shift gears as abruptly as any true and deep commitment would require. Well, that's what I think I'm thinking.
So why am I visiting Steve with a degree of lust in my loins if that's where my thinking is at? I have no rational answer. At the very least, I am happy to have found a friend close to me in age who doesn't come with all the trappings of a wife and family - someone free to chart each day as he sees fit. Now that my two youngest are approaching maturity, I know that I too will soon enough
be free to chart my days in a similar manner. I like my circle of friends - I like them very much, but most are older than me, most are still happily married, and many of them are dreaming of retirement at a time when I am contemplating re-engaging with the world at large. And I don't want to find a respectable widow or divorcee and end up with some dysfunctional merged family once her baggage is added to mine.
I know that I have found sexual pleasure with Steve and that he has found pleasure in our coupling too. Unlike Pam, he is proud of his own body and of mine and he almost radiates pleasure when I am inside him. I now understand only too well how some people struggle with bisexuality. It's not that I am afraid to embrace a gay side. It is not that I am unenthusiastic about sex with women - if anything, that's where my cock and my mind head first - but it is wearying to be in a state of flux when I've grown so accustomed to steering directly in one given direction. Over the years I have owned the odd reversible jacket or coat and had no difficulty in wearing them turned one way or the other to suit my whim. Having a reversible sex life is not so easy and I am not comfortable with pointing one way or the other on a whim.
Anyway, Steve made coffee and we chatted easily for a while. He knew I was on a tight schedule regarding the kids' school day and, yet again, I was doing my level best to avoid yielding to the sexual charge that filled the air. Suddenly, Steve leapt to his feet, pulled me up by one hand and told me he had a surprise gift for me. He led me to the area he uses as a studio and handed me a sketch of my house. It is a beautiful sketch. I have it before me as I write and I intend to have it framed and hung as soon as possible. With his usual economy of line and detail, Steve has captured my house, my jewel with a simplicity and yet an accuracy that takes my breath away.
And there was more. Steve also gave me a sketch of myself. Again the lines, taken individually, seem more indicative that detailed. Somehow, this ecomomy of line is still astonishingly lifelike. More to the point, I have never posed for Steve and yet the image is undeniably me - accurate, alive and totally naked. I have left that gift with Steve for the moment. I love it and I want to bring it into my house. I just need to think about it for a while.
It wasn't just gratitude and it wasn't mere lust that brought us together in a prolonged embrace. Though it was hurried and urgent, we celebrated Steve's gifts before I departed. Over an armchair, trousers around our ankles, I hastily fucked my friend and filled him with the only gift I had thought to bring with me.
Tonight I realise that the beautiful drawings and Steve's friendship are blessings to be held fast in one's heart and I have resolved to work harder at determining precisely what I want in the years ahead.
First I rang Pam and invited myself over for lunch. That girl is almost never out and about, and she is always most accommodating about my sporadic incursions into her life. Of course we talk on the phone once or twice a week and I am always interested to hear how her sessions with Tony are coming along. It appears to me that she has made great strides cognitively but I get no sense that this is aligning with her emotions. It's all very well to appreciate that sex is meant to be enjoyable, but that is no help if you remain so detached from the process that sex still feels like a chore. I just can't see Pam ever investing herself physically and emotionally with another person. She may one day re-marry, achieve a merger with some guy, but she and he will never merge in the sense that I feel two bodies should entwine.
Anyway, lunch was brilliant - freshly-made salmon cakes, a delicious lemon-based sauce and tossed green salad. Pam may never be a goddess in the bedroom but she sure can cook. As we ate, she talked about how much progress she feels she is making with Tony's help. I enjoy it when we chat because Pam is an intelligent lady who takes considerable interest in world affairs. Her views are never passionately expressed, nor are they ever remotely controversial, but she becomes almost animated if the topic is interesting enough. It's only when you get physically close to Pam - when dancing for example - that you feel the shutters coming down and she suddenly appears stiff and uncomfortable. As I've discovered on previous visits, sex doesn't merely cause the shutters to come down; it's more like a drawbridge being raised, leaving either withdrawal or a solitary swim in the moat as one's only options.
I asked Pam if she'd like to spend next Sunday at my place so we could go kayaking together, play tennis with the kids and have a nice leisurely lunch, just as we did a few weeks back. She was obviously pleased to be invited and asked if I'd like her to bring anything with her in the way of food or drink. I told her just to bring herself and some old clothes to wear while rambling about and getting wet or dirty. I prefer to do all the catering myself when I entertain. We chatted for a while longer and then I yawned and joked about how lingering over lunch always makes me feel sleepy. I was a bit startled when Pam asked me if I'd like to take a nap. I've been around long enough to recognise a euphemism when I hear one. My cock is equally well-educated and began to take a keen interest in the conversation.
I toyed with the idea for a while before denying any interest in taking a nap. Lust is a strong and selfish emotion, but I had no burning desire to treat Pam to another joyless sex lesson. Instead, taking the bull by the horns, I suggested that Pam look for a way to meet and even date a few nice guys with a view to finding someone with whom she might be happy. As had happened previously, Pam suggested that Mr Nice-Guy might be me. That might sound flattering to some but not to me. I do not regard my sexual interludes with Pam as the actions of Mr Nice-Guy. I feel they were more the actions of Mr Opportunistic and, worse than that, they were singularly lacking in any sense of mutual pleasure. Too cowardly to put this into words, I explained that I'm going through a phase right now where relationships and commitment are difficult. I also explained that I could stay no longer anyway as I had an appointment elsewhere. This was true. I'd arranged to visit Steve on my way home.
So we re-confirmed next Sunday's luncheon at my place, said our goodbyes - a peck on the cheek and a stiff hug - and I headed towards Steve's shack knowing that my underwear could bear mute testimony to how close I'd come to accepting Pam's offer of a nap. Cocks really do drool with anticipation. Mine had done a little dance in my briefs, leaving a silvery snail-trail of pre-cum at every point of the compass!
Steve had already downed tools for the day when I arrived. He smiled and hugged me tight, depositing a soft kiss on the side of my neck. We are now more than mere gym buddies. We chat each evening on the telephone too and I regard him as a very dear friend. We never talk of anything beyond tomorrow. I know he senses my reservations about becoming deeply involved with anyone, let alone a guy, and I respect his restraint because it is clear that deep involvement is something that he does seek. Sadly, he regards me with a tenderness that approaches infinity. I say sadly because I am too recently emerged from several years of mourning - preceded by some twenty years as a happily married man - to be able to shift gears as abruptly as any true and deep commitment would require. Well, that's what I think I'm thinking.
So why am I visiting Steve with a degree of lust in my loins if that's where my thinking is at? I have no rational answer. At the very least, I am happy to have found a friend close to me in age who doesn't come with all the trappings of a wife and family - someone free to chart each day as he sees fit. Now that my two youngest are approaching maturity, I know that I too will soon enough
be free to chart my days in a similar manner. I like my circle of friends - I like them very much, but most are older than me, most are still happily married, and many of them are dreaming of retirement at a time when I am contemplating re-engaging with the world at large. And I don't want to find a respectable widow or divorcee and end up with some dysfunctional merged family once her baggage is added to mine.
I know that I have found sexual pleasure with Steve and that he has found pleasure in our coupling too. Unlike Pam, he is proud of his own body and of mine and he almost radiates pleasure when I am inside him. I now understand only too well how some people struggle with bisexuality. It's not that I am afraid to embrace a gay side. It is not that I am unenthusiastic about sex with women - if anything, that's where my cock and my mind head first - but it is wearying to be in a state of flux when I've grown so accustomed to steering directly in one given direction. Over the years I have owned the odd reversible jacket or coat and had no difficulty in wearing them turned one way or the other to suit my whim. Having a reversible sex life is not so easy and I am not comfortable with pointing one way or the other on a whim.
Anyway, Steve made coffee and we chatted easily for a while. He knew I was on a tight schedule regarding the kids' school day and, yet again, I was doing my level best to avoid yielding to the sexual charge that filled the air. Suddenly, Steve leapt to his feet, pulled me up by one hand and told me he had a surprise gift for me. He led me to the area he uses as a studio and handed me a sketch of my house. It is a beautiful sketch. I have it before me as I write and I intend to have it framed and hung as soon as possible. With his usual economy of line and detail, Steve has captured my house, my jewel with a simplicity and yet an accuracy that takes my breath away.
And there was more. Steve also gave me a sketch of myself. Again the lines, taken individually, seem more indicative that detailed. Somehow, this ecomomy of line is still astonishingly lifelike. More to the point, I have never posed for Steve and yet the image is undeniably me - accurate, alive and totally naked. I have left that gift with Steve for the moment. I love it and I want to bring it into my house. I just need to think about it for a while.
It wasn't just gratitude and it wasn't mere lust that brought us together in a prolonged embrace. Though it was hurried and urgent, we celebrated Steve's gifts before I departed. Over an armchair, trousers around our ankles, I hastily fucked my friend and filled him with the only gift I had thought to bring with me.
Tonight I realise that the beautiful drawings and Steve's friendship are blessings to be held fast in one's heart and I have resolved to work harder at determining precisely what I want in the years ahead.