Sebastian The Male Escort - Part 6/6 - Conclusion free porn video

So now here I was, facing my second week as barman a Mike’s place, with an appointment to service a city businessman on Monday afternoon, just one week after my ‘debut’ on the New York copulation trail. In spite of this firm appointment, and success to date, I wondered if luck would still be with me. But in fact my worries were unfounded, for just as Craig had prophesied, my second week in Mike’s bar produce another crop of visiting cards from men asking me to give them a call and so it went on from there, week after week. Within a month of starting a Mike’s bar, I was servicing three or four paying clients a week, usually during the afternoon hours when I was off duty in the bar.

On the odd afternoon where I had no client appointment, Mike used to invite me upstairs to his apartment to spend some ‘quality time” together. He and I really got on very well together, and we both appreciated having an agreeable partner to fuck, in-house as it were. I asked myself why he never had sex with any of his other young employees behind the bar, as they are all gay, but he never did, so more and more I began to believe that I was, in reality, someone special. Some evenings I had a client appointment in which case I got back home, late. I had started to call Craig’s apartment home, as it was, for me, the only home I had ever really known since I was eleven years old and had been packed off to the Sheldon Academy by Aunt Agatha. I knew that with Craig’s plans for marriage, it could not last much beyond the end of the year, if that, but for that brief period, it was truly a home for me.

Craig wanted sex with me as often as I could give it to him and as time passed his ever increasing enthusiasm for copulating with me reinforced my view that he would, ultimately have to admit himself that he was a true gay and drop all ideas of marrying Caroline. But as we shall see later on, it did not happen at all like that, which is unfortunate, for as events took their course, they led to a lot of grief, which could have been avoided if Craig had only had the courage to look at himself firmly in the face and to accept his true self; but he did not, and things just went on. I did not personally mind, as I enjoyed sex with Craig just as much as with Mike, or for that matter with Jonathan, who became a regular ‘sporting fixture’ after my Saturday morning workouts at his gym. But it saddened me to think that Craig was heading towards disaster: I could only hope that I was wrong, but I doubted it. However, applying the principle, least said, quickest mended, I refrained from making any comment on what seemed to me to be Craig’s rush towards disaster.

My own life in New York continued developing and my client base grew steadily, until towards the end of the year I finally had to tell Mike that I would be leaving my job as barman.

“I have been expecting it for quite a while,” he said, “as I could see from the beginning that working here would just be a stepping stone to greater things for you. You know, Sebastian, as I have told you so many times when we have been fucking each other, you have an amazing physique and a cock to die for, which you wield like a true professional, which I suppose you have now become, but over and above that you have a magnetism which emanates from you, even when fully clothed, which is totally irresistible to other men, gay or straight. When you are behind the bar, all eyes are on you and you had better believe it. Anyway you are not leaving New York and I guess that our ‘quality time’ moments together, will still continue.”

“You can bet on that for sure, Mike,” I replied, with utter sincerity, “I would really miss the time I spend with you. I think we are great together and would be loath to lose you as a partner. I really enjoy the times we spend ‘communing’ together and I consider myself lucky to have met you.”

And then Mike made an amazing admission to me, something which, as I mentioned earlier, that I thought that he would ultimately have to admit to himself.

“You know, Sebastian, that I told you my wife had divorced me because of what I euphemistically described as my ‘extracurricular activities’. Well, since I started practising these ‘activities’ with you, you have brought home to me something which I should have admitted to myself ages ago, which is that I finally realised that I preferred fucking men over women and I have at last acknowledged to myself that I am, in fact a 100% homosexual. You know, Sebastian, that this is one of the great things you have done for me via our relationship and one which I shall be forever grateful to you. I now realise that I have to find a male life partner and not kid myself into thinking that I should go after another woman: it is just not to be. I need a permanent partner, but it has got to be another man.”

I have to say, that I was not at all surprised to hear this ‘confession’, which as I mentioned earlier I had sort of divined. And I felt more and more sure that Craig would ultimately come to the same conclusion about his own sexuality. I just knew that with the vigour with which Mike applied himself when he fucked my arse the he was as gay as I was and I was happy for him that he had finally come to terms with his true sexuality. As for Jonathan, he did not have to face up to a sexuality uncertainty: he knew he was 100% gay, just as I was, but I was not sure that he had decided that he needed a permanent partner in life, for he seemed completely happy as a ‘lone ranger’.

Towards the end of the year, I told Craig that in view of his impending marriage to Caroline, I thought it best that I should find a place of my own and move out of his apartment. I felt that the coast should be completely clear for Caroline, whom I had never actually met, for Craig spent all his weekends with her in upstate New York and she had never, in my presence been to his apartment, where they intended to start their married life together. To remain, I felt, might muddy the waters for Craig, who had become my very best friend and so I thought it best to find a place of my own.

With my regular earnings from my escort business, I could easily afford to rent a decent place and as ever, Craig came up trumps and helped me to find an apartment, which turned out to be not far from his own place. Craig was one of the very few people who ever knew exactly where I lived. I had long since decided that my private life was just that and I wanted neither Mike nor Jonathan to know my exact whereabouts; all they and my clients had was my cell phone number.

Before the end of the year, Craig and I took a brief vacation down in Florida. He knew of a nude male beach where we could lounge about in the sun and swim and, if we felt like it, which, of course we did, fuck. It was sort of a stag occasion for Craig, before he finally renounced gay sex, which he continued stoutly to insist that he would do, but I thought than that he was deluding himself, for after the best part of a year together, I was more or less totally convinced the he was, like me, 100% gay.

Craig married Caroline in early January, and asked me to be his best man, an honour, which I respectfully declined as I felt that to accept would be sailing too close to the wind for comfort. In fact, I told Craig, that in spite of our close friendship, that I thought it better if I did not attend his wedding, which he eventually grudgingly accepted. I absolutely did not want to be the person to come between Craig and Caroline and I desperately prayed that is marriage would be a success.

In fact, I had the pleasure of meeting her only once, at a party which Craig gave to celebrate his marriage and at which I was able to lose myself as just another friend of Craig’s in the crowd of other guests. She seemed a nice sort of lady, and I prayed that it would all work out all right. I did mention that Craig had told me that once married, our liaison and any others like it would cease, which he still firmly maintained would be the case, but I have to say that I still harboured doubts, which, alas, turned out to be correct.

My life in New York had now settled down into a routine. I continued building up my clientele until by the middle of the next year I was servicing at least two clients a day, sometimes three, and making over $200,000 per year. Most of my clients became regulars and I treated them all with great respect and care. My rough verbal treatment of Gandolfi, whom I serviced regularly, was still at the back of my mind and I vowed that never again would treat anyone in the way I had treated this elderly man and I would like to think that I had stuck to this vow. For the record Gandolfi became a regular client and we had a good relationship together. But each time I saw him, a momentary pang of remorse swept through me. I would have done anything to take back what I had said to him that first evening. And, for the record, never having found out the true form of address, I continued to call him ‘Your Grace’, which I guess he actually liked.

I think that my success as an escort is that I did not treat the job as simply a question of sticking in my cock and reaming my clients’ fuck-holes: I was always meticulous in preparing them, which they much appreciated and once inside them, I always tried to ensure that my client managed to achieve a climax simultaneously with my own orgasm. I became expert at holding back from my own climax until I saw that my client was going to shoot his wad and then I shot my own cum at the same time. It was all part of the philosophy that both parties involved, the fucker and the fuckee so to speak, should obtain complete satisfactions from the act.

It is worth noting, that none of my clients were, in fact, gay, and pretty well all of them were happily married men, who just wanted an anal fuck from time to time, something their wives could not provide for them. Their wives, for the most part, knew nothing of their mates’ peccadilloes, and marital harmony seemed to be the rule. Much of my clientele I got by word of mouth. So within 18 months of arriving in New York, I felt totally established and was as happy as a lone gay man could be.

In my private life, I still kept up my liaisons with Mike and Jonathan and, also, with Craig, who in spite of is premarital declarations to me about renouncing gay sex once he tied the marital knot, simply could not do without it. Craig would call me at my apartment and ask me if he could come round, a request could hardly refuse and once together, it was just like old times. We simply fucked each other, with gay abandon as we both enjoyed each other’s company enormously.

As time went on, his visits became more and more frequent, until one day he said to me, “It’s all over between Caroline and me. I cannot go on. She realises something is wrong and wants a divorce. Listen, Sebastian, I hate to ask you this, but do you think that I could move in here with you temporarily, as I simply cannot go on living with Caroline?”

Well, what could I say but yes, of course he could and for as long as he wanted. But what an extraordinary turn of events; Craig who had taken me in as a flat mate from my miserable apartment on the West Side was now going to move in with me into my apartment, as my flat mate! As the saying has it, what goes around comes around. Anyway, no man could be more welcome in my house than Craig, who was truly my very best friend, which I guess I may have said already; I was just sad that his arrival was as a result of marital disaccord, but this I had foreseen long before it actually happened.

As when I had lived with Craig in his place, we were strictly flat mates. He insisted in paying me part of the rent and in spite of his ever growing need to fuck me, we remained strictly flat mates: we never slept together. Had I allowed him, Craig would have shafted me and had me fuck him in return every evening and as time went on, the force he applied to drilling my hole increased, as if there was to be no tomorrow.

His divorce from Caroline, on the grounds of incompatibility, was finalised by the middle of the year and he was again foot-loose and fancy free. He had already started dating the odd girl he met when I felt that, as his best friend, I ought to try to bring home to him the truth about his own sexuality, which had become more and more obvious now that he was living under the same roof with me. This was not an easy subject to broach, but I felt as a friend I ought to tell him what I thought.

So I pulled my courage together and said, “Craig, have you ever seriously thought about what gives you the greatest pleasure in your relationships with other people, such as Caroline and me? This is very difficult for me to tell you, but from the way you have sex with me and the frequency with which you want it, make me think that you might be happier if you were in a full time relationship with another man, rather than married to another woman.”

“Just consider for a moment what happened to you and Caroline. When we met you told me that you were AC/DC and that once you were married you would cut out your liaison with other men and become a faithful husband to your wife. But look at what actually happened; the ink was barely dry on your marriage certificate and you were around here knocking on my door and wanting to fuck me as ever. Your marriage had changed nothing: you still wanted to have sex with me as we had done since the day we met. And as time went on your appetite for sex with me increased and increased until it was the driving force behind your life.”

“Believe me Craig, I have been watching it happen, even before your tied the knot with Caroline. The way you fuck me is with such intensity that I realized that this is what you wanted: sex with another man rather than a woman. Craig you have over the past year or so, become my dearest and closest friend and it pains me to have to tell you what I sincerely believe to be the truth about yourself, which is that you are, in fact, exactly like me, a 100% homosexual.”

Quite some speech, I thought and I wondered what his reaction would be. I went on to say that it is sometimes difficult to see ourselves as others see us, but ever since I have known him, I had had a nagging suspicion as to where his true sexuality lay.

“There is nothing to be ashamed about it,” I said, “it is simply a fact of life and no amount of talking will change that fact. We are what we are and we have to learn to live with it. Now in my case, I knew by the time I was sixteen or so that I was 100% gay and so I have never had the hurdle of uncertainty to cross, but in your case, I think that you should search your innermost self and try to decide once and for all where your sexuality lies: are you straight or gay? But do not hover between the two, for that is a recipe for disaster.”

All this was coming from a younger man to his older friend, but I thought I was giving sound advice.

Craig had listened to this speech in silence looking ever more miserable as I went on. He finished up with his head in his hands and wept: yes, he wept before me and then said,

“Sebastian, you are really my truest friend and a courageous one to boot, to have dared to tell me what you thought; and you know, I think you are right. I have long fought with my inner self as to what I was, but social convention made me marry Caroline because that is what most guys do. But from the word go, it was a failure. Once I was living and sleeping in the same bed with her, my desire for her just melted away and I could think only of the times you and I had had together since we first met. In fact, I have always felt more comfortable having sex with another man than with a woman.”

He went on “And you know, Sebastian, although you are absolutely the very best fuck partner I have ever had, it is not you who are responsible for my present state, for I had had sexual relationships with lots of other men before we met, with Mike and with Jonathan to name but two. But there is something I have never told you, which I think you should know. Since knowing you and having you as a flat mate, I gradually dropped off all my other sexual liaisons, so that, apart from the time when you and I and Mike and Jonathan have a little fuckfest together, you have been for the past year my only sex partner; for the past year, I have fucked no one but you and been fuck by no one but you.”

“Well,” I said, “as you know, I have sex with both Mike and Jonathan on a regular basis. Mike was like you, thinking that he was AC/DC, but like you his marriage failed and now he has finally recognised that he is, in fact, like me, a confirmed gay. Jonathan, who is a great guy and a marvellous fuck in all senses, is like me. He was lucky in that he knew from quite an early age that he was totally gay and that women were not for him. Guys like you are the ones who face the biggest problem and their ultimate happiness depends upon their being absolutely honest with themselves and making the right choice. Do you think that you can do that?”

‘What I think I can do,” said Craig, “is to strip you naked and give your tight little butt the best fuck you have ever had.”

And with that he grabbed me, pulled of my clothes flung me flat on the table and proceeded to give my arse the greatest pounding I had ever had. It was the copulative equivalent of being beaten by Woody Prick, with his ‘rod’.

Craig then had me service him and he begged me to make as hard as I could, which I did, by which time both he and I were covered in cum and utterly exhausted.

“That,” he said, “was the greatest fuck I have ever had in my life: you really are the tops Sebastian, but I guess by now that you know that and I am only repeating what countless others have already told you. You know, you are quite right in your analysis of the situation. You have made me realise today that I am totally gay and this should point the way to my future life.”

It was with great relief that I realised that the whole matter had gone so smoothly. I had hardly imagined that Craig would have reacted in the way that he did, but it was by now clear to me the writing had been on the wall for Craig himself and my words had merely acted as a catalyst to start him on the road to the acceptance of the truth.

“Come on” he said, bouncing back into a happier state, let’s shower and go out to dinner,” which we did and Craig splurged on a bottle of champagne to celebrate his ‘liberation’ as he put it.

Chapter 23

Having got over that hurdle, it was now time for me to face my own inner problem, which had been growing on me for the past several months. In my relations with Craig, Mike and Jonathan, and these were the only guys with whom I had recreational sex, I suddenly realised one day that I had never been truly intimate with any of them.

What exactly do I mean by ‘truly intimate’? Well in terms of copulating with these guys, we never held back at all, but I personally, never actually kissed one of my friends on the lips or slept in the same bed together as lovers do. We caressed each other bodies, sucked each other’s cocks and, when we fucked, often got into a really tight clinch with one another. But, and it is a big but, I personally never made lip to lip contact with any of my three friends.

What they did among themselves, when I was not involved, I cannot say. But, for myself, I never ever kissed any of my three sex partners, on the mouth. It just seemed to me to be the most intimate of all the sex acts; ridiculous really, when you think of what we did to each other as we fucked butt and sucked cock, but there it was: it as the way I felt and saw things. I never voiced this feeling to any of my three friends, but I guess each of them realised that this was an unspoken, no-go area and to their credit, they never tried to breach the boundary.

You might think that sticking your cock up another man’s arse hole and shooting him a dose of your sperm was as intimate an act as two men could perform together, but I realised that the simple act of kissing was, in fact a much more intimate gesture than fucking a guy could ever be. Fucking was a merely a means of releasing inner sexual tension. Men do it all the time with prostitutes for whom they had absolutely no spiritual feeling. I had never ever wanted to kiss any of my three sex partners, nor I think, they me: not even Craig, who was my closest friend. And as he had said right at the beginning we were just flat mates albeit flat mates who liked to fuck each other, but flatmates nevertheless. And it was as flat mates we remained until the day when I finally found the love of my life, but that is another story.

It was quite significant each one of the four of us lived alone. We socialised with each other and copulated together like rabbits but at the end of the day beyond the physical sex acts we performed together, we had no true spiritual relationship other than that which exists between good friends. I would have done anything to help Craig , but did I want to share a bed with him? The answer was no. And I had to believe that none of them wanted to go any further with me or for that matter with any other partners they had. But, of course, what they did when I was not present was their affair.

As far as I could see, none of us had any true intimacy, as I define it, with each other and in my case I had no true intimacy with any other human being. Simply put, not one of us had found our life’s partner. The fact that we all fucked around with each other without any note of proprietary jealousy being aroused in any of us, seemed to me a sure sign that we were just good friends but no more: not one of us felt he had sole rights to any of the others’ fuck holes. If Mike and Craig went off for a weekend together as they sometimes did, did I feel a pang of jealousy that Mike had gone off with my best friend, Craig? No I did not!

But in copulating with these guys, there was for me a bond between us which went beyond that which I had with my clients. When I was fucking any of them and came to my climax, the orgasm I had was of much greater in intensity than that which I achieved with my clients. And remember, I took great care to give my clients the best service I could. So I felt that somehow, fucking my friends was one up on fucking a paying client. This made me wonder what it would be like to have sex with the man who would be my life’s partner, if ever I found him. Would the climax be so intense that I could not stand it? I did not know as I had yet to experience it, if it in fact existed.

It was musing in this way that led me to wonder if such a partner might exist for me and if so, how would I find him? I was in no way unhappy, but thanks to my inner philosophizing to myself, I felt that my existence was incomplete. The problem was that I had no clear idea of what to do. So, I found myself adopting what I can best describe as the Mr Micawber attitude, ‘waiting for something to turn up!’

Over the past few months I had taken to following the MuscleCock Blog which Craig had introduced me to, and had smiled at the exaggerated physiques and especially the cocks that some of these guys had. I found it all very amusing and became quite a fan, but I never ventured to comment on any of the photo shots which were shown. But among the overblown studs who shot their cum on stage at various competitions, from time to time there appeared some very good looking well-equipped young guys who made my mouth water. I have to say, that given half a chance I could have happily fucked quite a few of them.

Well, other than the odd weekend I had taken with Craig on a nude male beach in Florida, I had never taken a true vacation, when I saw that the MuscleCock-Asia competition was coming up in Taipei in Taiwan and decided that I would put my professional life on hold for a couple of weeks and go and see for myself what one of these heavyweight cum shooting contests was like in the flesh.

So, never having been further than New Jersey, I got myself a ticket to Taipei and flew off to see the MuscleCock competition first hand. And it was in Taipei that I experienced the next cataclysmic change in my life, for it was there that I met Simon, who became the love of my life, which forms the basis of another story, which is entitled Simon and Sebastian.

THE END

SEBASTIAN – THE MALE ESCORT PART 6/6

CONCLUDED



Chapter 22

So now here I was, facing my second week as barman a Mike’s place, with an appointment to service a city businessman on Monday afternoon, just one week after my ‘debut’ on the New York copulation trail. In spite of this firm appointment, and success to date, I wondered if luck would still be with me. But in fact my worries were unfounded, for just as Craig had prophesied, my second week in Mike’s bar produce another crop of visiting cards from men asking me to give them a call and so it went on from there, week after week. Within a month of starting a Mike’s bar, I was servicing three or four paying clients a week, usually during the afternoon hours when I was off duty in the bar.

On the odd afternoon where I had no client appointment, Mike used to invite me upstairs to his apartment to spend some ‘quality time” together. He and I really got on very well together, and we both appreciated having an agreeable partner to fuck, in-house as it were. I asked myself why he never had sex with any of his other young employees behind the bar, as they are all gay, but he never did, so more and more I began to believe that I was, in reality, someone special. Some evenings I had a client appointment in which case I got back home, late. I had started to call Craig’s apartment home, as it was, for me, the only home I had ever really known since I was eleven years old and had been packed off to the Sheldon Academy by Aunt Agatha. I knew that with Craig’s plans for marriage, it could not last much beyond the end of the year, if that, but for that brief period, it was truly a home for me.

Craig wanted sex with me as often as I could give it to him and as time passed his ever increasing enthusiasm for copulating with me reinforced my view that he would, ultimately have to admit himself that he was a true gay and drop all ideas of marrying Caroline. But as we shall see later on, it did not happen at all like that, which is unfortunate, for as events took their course, they led to a lot of grief, which could have been avoided if Craig had only had the courage to look at himself firmly in the face and to accept his true self; but he did not, and things just went on. I did not personally mind, as I enjoyed sex with Craig just as much as with Mike, or for that matter with Jonathan, who became a regular ‘sporting fixture’ after my Saturday morning workouts at his gym. But it saddened me to think that Craig was heading towards disaster: I could only hope that I was wrong, but I doubted it. However, applying the principle, least said, quickest mended, I refrained from making any comment on what seemed to me to be Craig’s rush towards disaster.

My own life in New York continued developing and my client base grew steadily, until towards the end of the year I finally had to tell Mike that I would be leaving my job as barman.

“I have been expecting it for quite a while,” he said, “as I could see from the beginning that working here would just be a stepping stone to greater things for you. You know, Sebastian, as I have told you so many times when we have been fucking each other, you have an amazing physique and a cock to die for, which you wield like a true professional, which I suppose you have now become, but over and above that you have a magnetism which emanates from you, even when fully clothed, which is totally irresistible to other men, gay or straight. When you are behind the bar, all eyes are on you and you had better believe it. Anyway you are not leaving New York and I guess that our ‘quality time’ moments together, will still continue.”

“You can bet on that for sure, Mike,” I replied, with utter sincerity, “I would really miss the time I spend with you. I think we are great together and would be loath to lose you as a partner. I really enjoy the times we spend ‘communing’ together and I consider myself lucky to have met you.”

And then Mike made an amazing admission to me, something which, as I mentioned earlier, that I thought that he would ultimately have to admit to himself.

“You know, Sebastian, that I told you my wife had divorced me because of what I euphemistically described as my ‘extracurricular activities’. Well, since I started practising these ‘activities’ with you, you have brought home to me something which I should have admitted to myself ages ago, which is that I finally realised that I preferred fucking men over women and I have at last acknowledged to myself that I am, in fact a 100% homosexual. You know, Sebastian, that this is one of the great things you have done for me via our relationship and one which I shall be forever grateful to you. I now realise that I have to find a male life partner and not kid myself into thinking that I should go after another woman: it is just not to be. I need a permanent partner, but it has got to be another man.”

I have to say, that I was not at all surprised to hear this ‘confession’, which as I mentioned earlier I had sort of divined. And I felt more and more sure that Craig would ultimately come to the same conclusion about his own sexuality. I just knew that with the vigour with which Mike applied himself when he fucked my arse the he was as gay as I was and I was happy for him that he had finally come to terms with his true sexuality. As for Jonathan, he did not have to face up to a sexuality uncertainty: he knew he was 100% gay, just as I was, but I was not sure that he had decided that he needed a permanent partner in life, for he seemed completely happy as a ‘lone ranger’.

Towards the end of the year, I told Craig that in view of his impending marriage to Caroline, I thought it best that I should find a place of my own and move out of his apartment. I felt that the coast should be completely clear for Caroline, whom I had never actually met, for Craig spent all his weekends with her in upstate New York and she had never, in my presence been to his apartment, where they intended to start their married life together. To remain, I felt, might muddy the waters for Craig, who had become my very best friend and so I thought it best to find a place of my own.

With my regular earnings from my escort business, I could easily afford to rent a decent place and as ever, Craig came up trumps and helped me to find an apartment, which turned out to be not far from his own place. Craig was one of the very few people who ever knew exactly where I lived. I had long since decided that my private life was just that and I wanted neither Mike nor Jonathan to know my exact whereabouts; all they and my clients had was my cell phone number.

Before the end of the year, Craig and I took a brief vacation down in Florida. He knew of a nude male beach where we could lounge about in the sun and swim and, if we felt like it, which, of course we did, fuck. It was sort of a stag occasion for Craig, before he finally renounced gay sex, which he continued stoutly to insist that he would do, but I thought than that he was deluding himself, for after the best part of a year together, I was more or less totally convinced the he was, like me, 100% gay.

Craig married Caroline in early January, and asked me to be his best man, an honour, which I respectfully declined as I felt that to accept would be sailing too close to the wind for comfort. In fact, I told Craig, that in spite of our close friendship, that I thought it better if I did not attend his wedding, which he eventually grudgingly accepted. I absolutely did not want to be the person to come between Craig and Caroline and I desperately prayed that is marriage would be a success.

In fact, I had the pleasure of meeting her only once, at a party which Craig gave to celebrate his marriage and at which I was able to lose myself as just another friend of Craig’s in the crowd of other guests. She seemed a nice sort of lady, and I prayed that it would all work out all right. I did mention that Craig had told me that once married, our liaison and any others like it would cease, which he still firmly maintained would be the case, but I have to say that I still harboured doubts, which, alas, turned out to be correct.

My life in New York had now settled down into a routine. I continued building up my clientele until by the middle of the next year I was servicing at least two clients a day, sometimes three, and making over $200,000 per year. Most of my clients became regulars and I treated them all with great respect and care. My rough verbal treatment of Gandolfi, whom I serviced regularly, was still at the back of my mind and I vowed that never again would treat anyone in the way I had treated this elderly man and I would like to think that I had stuck to this vow. For the record Gandolfi became a regular client and we had a good relationship together. But each time I saw him, a momentary pang of remorse swept through me. I would have done anything to take back what I had said to him that first evening. And, for the record, never having found out the true form of address, I continued to call him ‘Your Grace’, which I guess he actually liked.

I think that my success as an escort is that I did not treat the job as simply a question of sticking in my cock and reaming my clients’ fuck-holes: I was always meticulous in preparing them, which they much appreciated and once inside them, I always tried to ensure that my client managed to achieve a climax simultaneously with my own orgasm. I became expert at holding back from my own climax until I saw that my client was going to shoot his wad and then I shot my own cum at the same time. It was all part of the philosophy that both parties involved, the fucker and the fuckee so to speak, should obtain complete satisfactions from the act.

It is worth noting, that none of my clients were, in fact, gay, and pretty well all of them were happily married men, who just wanted an anal fuck from time to time, something their wives could not provide for them. Their wives, for the most part, knew nothing of their mates’ peccadilloes, and marital harmony seemed to be the rule. Much of my clientele I got by word of mouth. So within 18 months of arriving in New York, I felt totally established and was as happy as a lone gay man could be.

In my private life, I still kept up my liaisons with Mike and Jonathan and, also, with Craig, who in spite of is premarital declarations to me about renouncing gay sex once he tied the marital knot, simply could not do without it. Craig would call me at my apartment and ask me if he could come round, a request could hardly refuse and once together, it was just like old times. We simply fucked each other, with gay abandon as we both enjoyed each other’s company enormously.

As time went on, his visits became more and more frequent, until one day he said to me, “It’s all over between Caroline and me. I cannot go on. She realises something is wrong and wants a divorce. Listen, Sebastian, I hate to ask you this, but do you think that I could move in here with you temporarily, as I simply cannot go on living with Caroline?”

Well, what could I say but yes, of course he could and for as long as he wanted. But what an extraordinary turn of events; Craig who had taken me in as a flat mate from my miserable apartment on the West Side was now going to move in with me into my apartment, as my flat mate! As the saying has it, what goes around comes around. Anyway, no man could be more welcome in my house than Craig, who was truly my very best friend, which I guess I may have said already; I was just sad that his arrival was as a result of marital disaccord, but this I had foreseen long before it actually happened.

As when I had lived with Craig in his place, we were strictly flat mates. He insisted in paying me part of the rent and in spite of his ever growing need to fuck me, we remained strictly flat mates: we never slept together. Had I allowed him, Craig would have shafted me and had me fuck him in return every evening and as time went on, the force he applied to drilling my hole increased, as if there was to be no tomorrow.

His divorce from Caroline, on the grounds of incompatibility, was finalised by the middle of the year and he was again foot-loose and fancy free. He had already started dating the odd girl he met when I felt that, as his best friend, I ought to try to bring home to him the truth about his own sexuality, which had become more and more obvious now that he was living under the same roof with me. This was not an easy subject to broach, but I felt as a friend I ought to tell him what I thought.

So I pulled my courage together and said, “Craig, have you ever seriously thought about what gives you the greatest pleasure in your relationships with other people, such as Caroline and me? This is very difficult for me to tell you, but from the way you have sex with me and the frequency with which you want it, make me think that you might be happier if you were in a fulltime relationship with another man, rather than married to another woman.”

“Just consider for a moment what happened to you and Caroline. When we met you told me that you were AC/DC and that once you were married you would cut out your liaison with other men and become a faithful husband to your wife. But look at what actually happened; the ink was barely dry on your marriage certificate and you were around here knocking on my door and wanting to fuck me as ever. Your marriage had changed nothing: you still wanted to have sex with me as we had done since the day we met. And as time went on your appetite for sex with me increased and increased until it was the driving force behind your life.”

“Believe me Craig, I have been watching it happen, even before your tied the knot with Caroline. The way you fuck me is with such intensity that I realized that this is what you wanted: sex with another man rather than a woman. Craig you have over the past year or so, become my dearest and closest friend and it pains me to have to tell you what I sincerely believe to be the truth about yourself, which is that you are, in fact, exactly like me, a 100% homosexual.”

Quite some speech, I thought and I wondered what his reaction would be. I went on to say that it is sometimes difficult to see ourselves as others see us, but ever since I have known him, I had had a nagging suspicion as to where his true sexuality lay.

“There is nothing to be ashamed about it,” I said, “it is simply a fact of life and no amount of talking will change that fact. We are what we are and we have to learn to live with it. Now in my case, I knew by the time I was sixteen or so that I was 100% gay and so I have never had the hurdle of uncertainty to cross, but in your case, I think that you should search your innermost self and try to decide once and for all where your sexuality lies: are you straight or gay? But do not hover between the two, for that is a recipe for disaster.”

All this was coming from a younger man to his older friend, but I thought I was giving sound advice.

Craig had listened to this speech in silence looking ever more miserable as I went on. He finished up with his head in his hands and wept: yes, he wept before me and then said,

“Sebastian, you are really my truest friend and a courageous one to boot, to have dared to tell me what you thought; and you know, I think you are right. I have long fought with my inner self as to what I was, but social convention made me marry Caroline because that is what most guys do. But from the word go, it was a failure. Once I was living and sleeping in the same bed with her, my desire for her just melted away and I could think only of the times you and I had had together since we first met. In fact, I have always felt more comfortable having sex with another man than with a woman.”

He went on “And you know, Sebastian, although you are absolutely the very best fuck partner I have ever had, it is not you who are responsible for my present state, for I had had sexual relationships with lots of other men before we met, with Mike and with Jonathan to name but two. But there is something I have never told you, which I think you should know. Since knowing you and having you as a flat mate, I gradually dropped off all my other sexual liaisons, so that, apart from the time when you and I and Mike and Jonathan have a little fuckfest together, you have been for the past year my only sex partner; for the past year, I have fucked no one but you and been fuck by no one but you.”

“Well,” I said, “as you know, I have sex with both Mike and Jonathan on a regular basis. Mike was like you, thinking that he was AC/DC, but like you his marriage failed and now he has finally recognised that he is, in fact, like me, a confirmed gay. Jonathan, who is a great guy and a marvellous fuck in all senses, is like me. He was lucky in that he knew from quite an early age that he was totally gay and that women were not for him. Guys like you are the ones who face the biggest problem and their ultimate happiness depends upon their being absolutely honest with themselves and making the right choice. Do you think that you can do that?”

‘What I think I can do,” said Craig, “is to strip you naked and give your tight little butt the best fuck you have ever had.”

And with that he grabbed me, pulled of my clothes flung me flat on the table and proceeded to give my arse the greatest pounding I had ever had. It was the copulative equivalent of being beaten by Woody Prick, with his ‘rod’.

Craig then had me service him and he begged me to make as hard as I could, which I did, by which time both he and I were covered in cum and utterly exhausted.

“That,” he said, “was the greatest fuck I have ever had in my life: you really are the tops Sebastian, but I guess by now that you know that and I am only repeating what countless others have already told you. You know, you are quite right in your analysis of the situation. You have made me realise today that I am totally gay and this should point the way to my future life.”

It was with great relief that I realised that the whole matter had gone so smoothly. I had hardly imagined that Craig would have reacted in the way that he did, but it was by now clear to me the writing had been on the wall for Craig himself and my words had merely acted as a catalyst to start him on the road to the acceptance of the truth.

“Come on” he said, bouncing back into a happier state, let’s shower and go out to dinner,” which we did and Craig splurged on a bottle of champagne to celebrate his ‘liberation’ as he put it.

Chapter 23

Having got over that hurdle, it was now time for me to face my own inner problem, which had been growing on me for the past several months. In my relations with Craig, Mike and Jonathan, and these were the only guys with whom I had recreational sex, I suddenly realised one day that I had never been truly intimate with any of them.

What exactly do I mean by ‘truly intimate’? Well in terms of copulating with these guys, we never held back at all, but I personally, never actually kissed one of my friends on the lips or slept in the same bed together as lovers do. We caressed each other bodies, sucked each other’s cocks and, when we fucked, often got into a really tight clinch with one another. But, and it is a big but, I personally never made lip to lip contact with any of my three friends.

What they did among themselves, when I was not involved, I cannot say. But, for myself, I never ever kissed any of my three sex partners, on the mouth. It just seemed to me to be the most intimate of all the sex acts; ridiculous really, when you think of what we did to each other as we fucked butt and sucked cock, but there it was: it as the way I felt and saw things. I never voiced this feeling to any of my three friends, but I guess each of them realised that this was an unspoken, no-go area and to their credit, they never tried to breach the boundary.

You might think that sticking your cock up another man’s arse hole and shooting him a dose of your sperm was as intimate an act as two men could perform together, but I realised that the simple act of kissing was, in fact a much more intimate gesture than fucking a guy could ever be. Fucking was a merely a means of releasing inner sexual tension. Men do it all the time with prostitutes for whom they had absolutely no spiritual feeling. I had never ever wanted to kiss any of my three sex partners, nor I think, they me: not even Craig, who was my closest friend. And as he had said right at the beginning we were just flat mates albeit flat mates who liked to fuck each other, but flatmates nevertheless. And it was as flat mates we remained until the day when I finally found the love of my life, but that is another story.

It was quite significant each one of the four of us lived alone. We socialised with each other and copulated together like rabbits but at the end of the day beyond the physical sex acts we performed together, we had no true spiritual relationship other than that which exists between good friends. I would have done anything to help Craig , but did I want to share a bed with him? The answer was no. And I had to believe that none of them wanted to go any further with me or for that matter with any other partners they had. But, of course, what they did when I was not present was their affair.

As far as I could see, none of us had any true intimacy, as I define it, with each other and in my case I had no true intimacy with any other human being. Simply put, not one of us had found our life’s partner. The fact that we all fucked around with each other without any note of proprietary jealousy being aroused in any of us, seemed to me a sure sign that we were just good friends but no more: not one of us felt he had sole rights to any of the others’ fuck holes. If Mike and Craig went off for a weekend together as they sometimes did, did I feel a pang of jealousy that Mike had gone off with my best friend, Craig? No I did not!

But in copulating with these guys, there was for me a bond between us which went beyond that which I had with my clients. When I was fucking any of them and came to my climax, the orgasm I had was of much greater in intensity than that which I achieved with my clients. And remember, I took great care to give my clients the best service I could. So I felt that somehow, fucking my friends was one up on fucking a paying client. This made me wonder what it would be like to have sex with the man who would be my life’s partner, if ever I found him. Would the climax be so intense that I could not stand it? I did not know as I had yet to experience it, if it in fact existed.

It was musing in this way that led me to wonder if such a partner might exist for me and if so, how would I find him? I was in no way unhappy, but thanks to my inner philosophizing to myself, I felt that my existence was incomplete. The problem was that I had no clear idea of what to do. So, I found myself adopting what I can best describe as the Mr Micawber attitude, ‘waiting for something to turn up!’

Over the past few months I had taken to following the MuscleCock Blog which Craig had introduced me to, and had smiled at the exaggerated physiques and especially the cocks that some of these guys had. I found it all very amusing and became quite a fan, but I never ventured to comment on any of the photo shots which were shown. But among the overblown studs who shot their cum on stage at various competitions, from time to time there appeared some very good looking well-equipped young guys who made my mouth water. I have to say, that given half a chance I could have happily fucked quite a few of them.

Well, other than the odd weekend I had taken with Craig on a nude male beach in Florida, I had never taken a true vacation, when I saw that the MuscleCock-Asia competition was coming up in Taipei in Taiwan and decided that I would put my professional life on hold for a couple of weeks and go and see for myself what one of these heavyweight cum shooting contests was like in the flesh.

So, never having been further than New Jersey, I got myself a ticket to Taipei and flew off to see the MuscleCock competition first hand. And it was in Taipei that I experienced the next cataclysmic change in my life, for it was there that I met Simon, who became the love of my life, which forms the basis of another story, which is entitled Simon and Sebastian.

THE END