His Fantasies Come True
by: Hankster
© 2010 by the Author
The
author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the
author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
The first E Mail came from Bart:
Dear Harry B. I constantly read erotic gay stories on the internet, but I have never written to an author before. I can’t tell you how much your story, Lost in Time, moved me. It was like you were writing about me. I related to every word. I too am in my very senior years, and still married to a woman. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her or my large family, but I constantly dream of being in a loving relationship with a man. The main character in your story is in the same boat as I am. Your words captured exactly what I feel. Thanks again for your sensitive and beautiful words. Bart (retired school teacher) in California.
Bart did not expect to get an answer. He was pleased and very surprised to get a prompt reply from Harry.
Dear Bart: Thanks for your kind words. It’s always nice to know that someone out there is reading my stuff and even enjoying it. It wasn’t a stretch for me to write about a senior married man yearning to be in a gay relationship. I was that guy, but unlike you (I surmise) my marriage was from hell. I just walked out one day, gave my wife all my worldly goods (I figured my kids would get it someday anyway) and changed my life and my lifestyle forever. I don’t recommend it for everyone, but my kids and grandchildren accepted it, and they are very fond of my partner. I have never been happier in my life. Where do you live in California? My elder son lives in Los Angeles. I am attaching a picture of me and my partner, Len. He’s the skinny one on the right with the full head of beautiful silver hair. I’m the slightly pudgy one on the left. Can you send me a picture of you? Harry in Florida.
Bart answered:
Dear friend: I live in a section of Los Angeles called Hancock Park. Do you know it? The houses are old and stately. I always tell people that Hancock Park was the Beverly Hills of LA before there was a Beverly Hills. Where does your son live? I must tell you that you and Len are very handsome men. I have begun to fantasize about the two of you having sex, and I get very aroused. Last night Len turned into me. You and I did it all, even anal. There is no way I could get hard enough to penetrate you, but it was my fantasy after all. You can’t stop my fantasies, but if you prefer, you can tell me to stop telling you about it. I was able to stroke myself to climax imagining having sex with you. That hasn’t happened in ages. My picture is attached. Be truthful. Bart
Dear Bart: EUREKA!!! First of all, I am being perfectly honest when I say, you are a knockout. I could easily go for you. There is no way I would not want to fantasize about going down on you. I would take all you have to offer whatever amount that is. Do you have any naked pictures? I am enclosing one of me. I am not big like the guys in my stories, but as Len kindly says, more than a mouthful is a waste. Feel free to keep on fantasizing about me and telling me about it. At our age, Len and I have no illusions about middle class morality. We have freely taken someone to bed with us on rare occasions.
The second Eureka is that my son and his family live in Hancock Park at 153 McKinley Place. Is that far from you? Hugs, Harry.
Early the next morning Harry ran to his computer. Bart had not yet answered his last E Mail. Harry knew that because Bart was in the closet, he might not always be able to sneak away and answer his secret mail. Harry did not wait for an answer. He wrote:
Dear Bart: Last night I began to think about your fantasy and I got very aroused. I practically attacked Len in the middle of the night, and we took good care of each other, so thanks. Wish you were here. Hugs and kisses, Harry.
Later in the day, Harry received an E Mail from Bart:
Hi handsome: Your cock is big enough for me or anyone else. So what if it doesn’t match all those fictional characters? Does anyone’s? You aren’t going to believe this, but your son lives right around the corner from me. This morning I was walking my great grandson in his carriage, and for fun walked by your boy’s house. Since it was Sunday, I hoped maybe to get a glimpse of him, but if anyone was outdoors they were in the very private back yard. Your son must be wealthy judging by his house. Now tell me how good a detective I am. There were three cars in the driveway. They either had company, or my scenario is that the third car belongs to a teen age grandson or granddaughter. Let me know how good I am. I must also tell you how pleased I am that I am the subject of your fantasies also. Now I don’t have to feel guilty about fantasizing about you. Love, Bart.
That night after Len fell asleep, Harry went to the computer and booted up. He wrote:
Dear Bart: You are a regular Sherlock Holmes. My son has two boys of his own, nineteen and fourteen. I’m sure the third car belongs to my elder grandson. He just dropped out of college and is applying for fire fighters school. My son is a doctor and a complete over achiever. He must be very disappointed about Donald dropping out of school. Still, fire fighting is a worthy profession, and Donald is handsome enough to make the firemen’s calendar in the near future. LOL.
Len is asleep. As I write to you, I am sitting at the computer playing with myself. I keep picturing you and me going at it. I am really aroused. I picture you between my legs sucking my cock. Then you stand up and put your cock in my mouth. I hope you are feeling the ecstasy as much as I am.
We usually go to LA every Thanksgiving. My son doesn’t like for Len and me to stay in his house because of the two teen age boys, so we stay in a hotel. (As if they don’t know what is going on.) I wonder if you will be able to join us in the hotel for a few hours. I’ll let you know our plans as soon as we book the hotel and air flights. Oh man, I’m cumming.
I had to go clean myself up just to write: With love, Harry.
Harry switched over to a gay story website and was reading some newly posted material, when after just a few minutes, he got a note from Bart.
My very dear friend I will find a way to be with you guys. Trust me. All my love, Bart.
Over the next few months, Harry and Bart wrote as often as possible. One time Bart wrote six times in one day. They described in graphic language, growing more lurid with each note, just what they would do to each other when they met. Harry admitted how much he loved to rim a clean, pink ass, and Bart said, he would do anything Harry wanted to do, just to make up for all his lost and misspent years.
Harry actually began to think of ways to prevent Len from going on the trip with him. When he realized what he was thinking, he grew angry at himself, and refrained from writing to Bart for three days. Finally, he got a desperate E Mail from Bart asking if something had happened and was he well.
Harry wrote back, and told a little white lie.
Darling: My computer crashed and I was out of touch for a couple of days. I suppose I could have gone to the library or to a friend, but I couldn’t write what I write to you on a friend’s computer or in a public place. This proves that we should exchange addresses and telephone numbers. I promise never to call you except in a dire emergency, and if your wife answers, I could say that I am someone who used to teach with you back when we were both working. But you, babe, can call me anytime you can find a moment. Harry then proceeded to give Bart his address and mobile phone number. He himself wondered why he didn’t give Bart his home number. It bothered him for a split second.
Not five minutes went by and he received a note from Bart with his address and phone number. Harry wondered if it was a cell phone. Bart concluded the note: I hope you are near your phone. I am going to call you in just a few seconds. Len was in the living room reading a book so Harry went out on their patio. As soon as he closed the sliding glass doors the phone rang. He looked at his caller ID. It said Wireless Caller.
“Hello,” Harry said in a somewhat frightened tone of voice. An equally scared voice asked, “Is that you, Harry? It’s Bart.”
“Oh Bart, my dearest darling, it is so wonderful to hear your voice, but it’s not a good time to talk. Look, Len will go bowling tomorrow from about 1 PM to 5 PM. On Tuesday he will go to Bingo from about 6 PM to 10:30 PM. This is all Eastern time of course. If you can get someplace private and call me either of those two times, we can have wonderful phone sex.”
“I’ll manage both times,” Bart answered. “I swear. I love you sweetheart.” Bart hung up.
The next day at 1:15 PM Harry’s cell phone rang. He didn’t even look at the ID. He was sure it was Bart.
“Hello,” he said. His voice sounded inquisitive.
“Harry, it’s me, Bart. Is Len gone?”
“Yes.”
“Good, I’m totally naked in my bedroom. My wife is spending the day at some spa with a girlfriend. Get naked and talk to me please. I’m bursting with anticipation.”
“Hold on,” Harry said as he put the phone down and stripped in record time. He lay down on his bed and picked up the phone. “Bart,” he said. “I’m lying naked in my bed. I’m flat on my back and my erect cock is trying to reach the ceiling. Stroke it for me, will you?”
“Yes, darling. It will be my pleasure. Shall I stroke you gently or hard?”
“Gently, very gently. Make your fist into a feather duster.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Now, Bart, lie down next to me and I’ll do the same to you.”
“Oh yes, Harry. It feels so good. Make me cum.”
They stroked themselves in silence for a few moments. Each could hear the other murmuring sighs into the phone. Now they were both as erect as they would ever get, as they imagined that they were stroking each other.
Harry broke the silence. “I’m leaning over you now, babe. I’m taking your big, hard cock into my mouth. My tongue is sliding up and down the underside of your shaft. Your pre-cum and my saliva are mixing and lubricating your manhood. Can you feel it darling? Can you feel it?”
“Oh yes I can. I’m in heaven. I’m crawling around you now. I’m going to do the same to you as we play 69.”
Harry waited a moment and then he said, “I can feel my cock in your mouth. It feels so good. I don’t want you ever to stop. Suck my cock all day, baby, please.”
Harry began to hear little mewling sounds on the line. The sounds grew louder, then a small screech. “I’m cumming,” Bart informed him. Finally, a loud scream went through the lines and Bart was spent.
“That was wonderful,” he said to Harry. “I can’t thank you enough.”
Harry was still stroking himself. He imagined Bart’s cum coursing down his throat. “I’m not done yet. Suck me a little longer,” he begged.
“Yes, yes, of course. I want to do that so badly. Can you feel my finger up your ass as I suck your cock?” Bart asked.
That did it. Harry could feel his orgasm building. When it went beyond the point of no return, he said, “I’m cumming baby. Don’t stop sucking. Aah, aah, aaaaaah!”
There was silence for a moment and Bart asked, “Are you OK?”
“Yes, I’m just mixing our cum and spreading it all over my cock.”
“You’re bad,” Bart said.
Day after day, Bart and Harry wrote to each other. Their mail grew more and more lurid, even pornographic. They talked of sucking, fucking and rimming each other. Nothing was out of bounds. Harry was able to write more often. Bart had to wait for opportunities. If Harry didn’t hear from Bart for a day, he grew frantic. Once after a wait of 36 hours, he almost called California, but in the end he restrained himself. Bart called as often as he could on Len’s Bingo or Bowling days, and they had phone sex. After awhile the phone sex did not satisfy either of them. They wanted the real thing.
At last Harry wrote to Bart:
We are arriving in LA on the Monday before Thanksgiving at 1:10 PM, PST. We are renting a car and checking into a pretty run down motel on Sunset Blvd. We never spend a lot of money on hotels, and this one is very clean and only about a ten minute drive from my son’s house. It’s called The Sunburst, just off Western Avenue. We’ll be checking out early the following Monday to make a 9:05 flight back to Ft. Lauderdale. The only day we are committed is Thanksgiving Day. The rest of the time we are on our own. Call me on my cell. You are welcome to our California residence whenever you can make it. Len is aware of your existence. I showed him your pictures, dressed and naked, and he wants to help make your fantasies come true also. He knows how you feel. He didn’t come out until after his wife died. So you see we are three kindred souls.
Bart answered almost immediately.
Dear Harry, I have good news, bad news, depending on your viewpoint. My wife fell this morning and broke her hip. She is in the hospital. The doctors say she will be there for at least a week and then rehab for at least three. She will definitely be in rehab during your stay. I will visit with her most of the day, but my evenings will be free. I am sure that one of my kids will want me to stay with him or her, but I can say no to them without arousing suspicion. It looks like we can meet often, even dine together. I am so excited. My only wish is that I could do this openly and not be so sub rosa. Also, I must be honest and tell you that I wish Len was not in the picture. But after all these years, I shouldn’t be so selfish. Two cocks are better than one. I have been fantasizing the possibilities.
Dear Bart: I showed Len your letter and he is sympathetic to your desires. He said that we could be alone the first time. He’ll go to a movie or something. However, he wants in on the action after that. Agreed?
Dear Harry: Agreed! But who knows? After I meet Len, I might want him there from the get go. Let’s see how it all plays out.
Harry and Len checked into the motel and they were unpacking their suitcases when there was a knock on their door.
“Who the hell can that be?” Harry mused as he went to the door. He opened the door and there stood a handsome older gentleman, grinning from ear to ear. He looked familiar to Harry, but he couldn’t quite place him.
“Harry?” the man asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m Bart.”
“Oh my God,” Harry yelled. He grabbed Bart and pulled him into the room. Len discreetly closed the door. He was smiling as Bart and Harry embraced and kissed each other passionately, their mouths open, their tongues dueling.
Harry pulled away and as if he and Bart were old friends, he said to Len, “Len this is my friend, California Bart.” Bart stuck out his hand, but Len grabbed him in a bear hug.
“Don’t be so formal,” he said. “We are going to be intimate friends. How long can you stay? Do you want me to go out for an hour or two? I can have a cup of coffee at the McDonalds across the street.”
“Please don’t leave,” Bart said. “I only live ten minutes away. I was just in the rehab hospital with my wife. I told her that I was going to get some stuff at the super market for my dinner tonight, so I can only stay a moment. I just wanted desperately to see you both. I can come back about 6 PM. Would you guys like to have dinner with me at a fine restaurant? My treat.
“Definitely,” Harry said, and Len nodded.
“I gotta go,” Bart said and he kissed Harry. Then he kissed Len and said. “Please be here too. You’re gorgeous, especially those beautiful blue eyes.”
“We’ll both be here,” Len said.
It was just shy of 6PM when Harry’s cell phone rang. He heard Bart say. “I’m very close. Would you guys mind waiting outside. It’s still rush hour and parking is a bitch in this neighborhood.”
“Not at all. We’ll be out front.”
They went to a wonderful Mexican restaurant, but if the truth be told, none of them really enjoyed the meal. They were all nervous about what they knew was going to happen that evening. At the same time expectations ran high in all of them. Bart could not wait for dinner to be over, but to his credit, he did not hurry.
“Look guys,” Bart said, “There’s nobody at my house but me. I have a huge king sized bed. How about we go there instead of the motel?”
“It sounds good, but are you sure that nobody will drop in on you?”
“One of my kids might call to check on me, but they wouldn’t come over. They would have too long a drive.”
“OK then,” Len said, “but you’ll have to drive us back afterwards.”
“No sweat. It’s not far at all.”
The three of them undressed and embraced in a group hug. They fondled each other’s privates and kissed each other back and forth. Harry instructed Bart to lie down in bed on his stomach. Bart did exactly as he was told. Suddenly he felt a tongue licking his right ear and then the tip of the tongue entered his ear canal. What a strange feeling. He was titillated, but he was more fascinated by the warm, moist sensation. His wife had never done this to him, nor had the very few men he had ever been with. He wondered who was licking his ear.
He didn’t have time to dwell on who, when he felt a tongue running up and down his left ass cheek. His whole body shivered. For awhile one tongue played with his ears alternately, and the other licked up and down both his ass cheeks. Bart had never in his life been so turned on. Then the licking of his ears stopped. Deft hands separated his southern cheeks, and whoever was licking him down there suddenly began to lick his ass hole. The tip of the tongue was pushing into his opening. He was about to moan with pleasure but stopped himself when he felt another tongue licking his balls.
Now he did indeed moan loudly. The tongue stopped licking his ass hole and a greasy finger sought entrance. He wasn’t sure but he thought someone whispered relax into his ear. He tried to do just that and the finger slipped in. Bart moaned louder.
“Turn over now,” one of them instructed him. Bart rolled over, but still he kept his eyes shut. He had no idea why he did that, but it somehow seemed appropriate to do so. The two tongues went to work again. One tongue found his nipples and suckled and nipped at them. The other tongue went to work on his balls licking them all over, moving up to the shaft of his penis, teasing him unmercifully. His whole body began to writhe in pleasure and frustration. It seemed a very long time, but finally the tongue began to lick up and down his shaft, and finally it happened. His cock was sucked into a mouth. Irrationally, he hoped it was Harry’s so he opened his eyes. Harry was sucking his cock and fondling his balls. Len was nipping at his nipples.
“I can’t hold off much longer,” Bart announced.
“Don’t hold back,” Len said as Harry continued to suck away. It was hard to say who was enjoying things more, Bart or Harry.
Suddenly it happened. Harry could feel Bart’s balls constrict as he yelled, “I’m cumming.”
He expected Harry to back off, but Harry sucked more feverishly, and allowed Bart’s cum to trickle down his throat. Bart came with the loud scream Harry had often heard on the telephone. He held Bart’s cock in his mouth until Bart begged him to release it.
“Well,” Harry asked, “how did you enjoy that?” Bart answered by sitting up, grabbing Harry, and kissing him passionately. He was surprised to taste his own cum in Harry’s mouth.
“It’s my turn now,” Bart announced. “You two lie on your backs and I’ll go down on both of you.” He positioned himself on his hands and knees between the two lovers. Leaning over, he took Harry’s member into his mouth. It tasted as good as all his fantasies had promised. With one hand he fondled Harry’s balls and with his other hand, he began to stroke Len’s cock. He continued to do this back and forth. After nearly half an hour, he felt Harry’s balls begin to constrict. By his time Harry was moaning loudly. Bart abandoned Len temporarily and did everything he could to bring Harry to climax. Harry came screaming as loudly as Bart had. Bart took Harry’s cum, but refrained from swallowing. Instead he went down on Len with a mouthful of cum, using it as a lubricant. The squishy feeling was very erotic to Len and he too started to writhe and moan.
“I’m cumming,” he yelled and spurted generously into Bart’s mouth. This time Bart swallowed as much as he could, but there was enough for Harry and Len to taste when he kissed them.
The three men lay side by side in Bart’s big bed. They were on their backs with Bart in the middle. Bart fondled both their cocks and they each fondled Bart’s cock and balls. Every so often they turned their heads and kissed each other. Time passed as they basked in the afterglow.
“Let’s wash and get dressed,” Harry said, “and you can drive us back to the motel, Bart.”
“Can we get together tomorrow?” Bart asked. He was actually pleading.
“My son is taking us out to dinner,” Harry said, “but we can call you when we get back to the motel, and if you are up to it, you are more than welcome to come around.”
“He means C-U-M,” Len laughed.
“It’s a deal,” Bart agreed.
During that week they were able to get together four times before it was time for Len and Harry to leave. The best and longest session they enjoyed together was the night before their departure. Before he left the motel, Bart announced that he could now die a happy man.
On the flight home Harry asked Len if he was really all right with what had happened in Los Angeles.
“Absolutely,” Len asserted. “I know how it feels to be as tortured as Bart, and we really made his fantasies become a reality. I’m happy to have been a part of that. Anyway, I still have you, and that’s all that matters. I know you wanted to have sex with Bart. If I had objected, you might have resented me.”
Harry smiled at Len and squeezed his knee as the male flight attendant asked what they would like to drink. He saw Harry’s hand on Len’s knee and he smiled at the two elderly gentlemen.
Len and Harry wrote to Bart regularly and when possible they spoke on the phone. A few weeks before Thanksgiving, Harry sent Bart their flight and motel arrangements for their annual visit to Los Angeles. Bart didn’t answer. After three days, Harry wrote again. His E Mail was returned. Bart’s E Mail address no longer existed.
On a hunch, Harry went on line to The Los Angeles Times website. He searched the obituaries for the entire past week, and he found Bart’s final biography. Bart left a loving wife, six children, fifteen grandchildren, and three great grandchildren. He took his secret to the grave.
Len and Harry regretted that they could not give Bart one more week of the love he so desperately craved, but they were happy about the week they had given him. That evening they raised a glass of wine to celebrate Bart’s life, and to thank God for the opportunity He had given them to make Bart’s fantasies come true.
The End.
Posted: 01/29/10