Scott's First

Scott had thought long and hard about the evening ahead. This was something he had dreamed of for years, but could not overcome his fear of being seen by friends or family. Finally, his deep desire overcame his resistance.

He parked his car a few blocks away, and walked to the entrance. He looked up as he approached. The neon sign read "Twin Peaks" in blinking pink. This is one of the city's finest gay bars, one that has a reputation for classy clientele, excellent drinks, jazzy live music, and hot men in their 40's and 50's. Right where Scott wanted to be right now.

Before going in, he perused the men standing around, some smoking, some laughing, some perusing him back. It gave him a tiny tingle at the base of his spine, which worked its way up to his neck. He reached in back and rubbed his neck, and could feel the goosebumps. Hell, he wasn't even inside yet, and he was getting turned on.

Scott had dressed carefully for the occasion. He'd studied up on appropriate gay apparel. Of course, that made him think of "Deck the halls", and he smiled broadly. Thinking he was smiling at them, several men smiled back. He gave a sheepish wave and began to relax as he entered the club.

Inside, the music hit him first. A four-piece jazz ensemble, very Birth of the Cool. Lights were spinning, men were dancing with each other. Tables were full, but there were lots of spaces at the bar. Scott took a place, being careful not to sit close to anyone. Scott wanted the experience to move slowly so he wouldn't get too many butterflies.

The bartender came over, smiled, and Scott ordered a single malt scotch. It appeared that men were NOT drinking mimosas. They were drinking beer, scotch, martinis, etc. Just like any other men would be drinking. Scott didn't know why he thought gay men would stand out in some way. They didn't, at least not in this bar. The dress was tasteful, the men were almost all attractive, no one was slobbering over anyone else, there were no high squeals, and certainly no drag queens. Scott took a sip, and began to feel more relaxed. He nibbled on the mixed nuts on the bar (mixed nuts? He almost laughed out loud when he had that thought).

In a few minutes, after half his scotch was gone, he felt light and confident. He turned in his seat and began to really check out the men. There were several who lit his fire, but they appeared to be already taken. He sipped and looked, sipped and looked. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and almost jumped out of his seat. He turned to see a smiling man, about 45, tall, slender, cleanshaven, curly hair, beautiful blue eyes, wearing a blue cotton sweater and khaki chinos.

"Sorry to startle you. I haven't seen you here before and I thought I'd welcome you to Twin Peaks," the man said.

Scott reached out to shake the man's hand.

"My name is Scott, and you haven't seen me here before because I've never been here before. In fact, this is the first time I've ever been to a gay bar."

The man hesitated not at all. Still holding Scott's hand, he responded,

"People call me Spike, and I'd be happy to help you get the lay of the land, so to speak."

He smiled, and Scott actually laughed. Perhaps the scotch was going to his head faster than usual.

"So, why is this place called Twin Peaks? I would expect that to be a good name for a Lesbian bar."

"Point taken. In fact, this was a Lesbian bar for almost 10 years, but the owners split up and sold the bar about 5 years ago. It seemed a natural segue from lesbian to gay, and the new owners liked the name so they kept it. Would you care to sit at a table so we can be more comfortable?"

"Sure. And shall I assume that your parents did not actually name you Spike?"

"HA! You're very perceptive, Scott. My actual name is Miles, but I'm a big fan of Robert B. Parker, so when I am in this bar, I decided to call myself Spike, after a very cool gay character in his Sunny Randall series. I dearly miss Parker. He was one of the most entertaining writers of his generation."

They made their way to a corner booth that had just been vacated. Spike was drinking a martini. They placed their drinks down, and slid into the smooth leather seats.

"So, is it obvious that this is all new to me, and that I'm a little nervous?"

Spike smiled. He said nothing. He reached out his hand and touched Scott's hand gently.

"Scott, you're an attractive man, and you are here. That says it all. You don't have to explain a thing."

Scott felt dizzy with anticipation and anxiety. He reached out his other hand and covered Spike's. He smiled back. He had noticed Spike's blue eyes right from the moment he first looked at him, but now he had a chance to really absorb them. They were spectacular, the kind of eyes that make anyone, male or female, go weak in the knees. The kind of eyes that are iridescent, that you could dive into for a view of exquisite tropical fish, that look like they belong to one of the possessed children in the movie Village of the Damned. Okay, enough. Scott's mind was running wild.

He said, "I could use another scotch."

Spike got up, went to the bar, and came back with a scotch and another martini for himself.

"So, Scott, I'm not going to ask you what you think can happen when you make the commitment you've made by being here. I know what can happen. You can guess what can happen. And I suspect you'd like it to happen. So let me just say that I live about 2 blocks from here in a brownstone walk-up, and I'd be delighted to take you there, so we can have a more relaxed conversation, and maybe another drink, and see how the evening goes from there. What do you think?"

Scott was frozen in place. He was rarely speechless, but in this case he could not bring himself to say the words he wanted to say.

Spike smiled, "I'm sorry, perhaps I came on too strong. We can chat here as long as you want."

Scott blurted out, "No, no, I really do want to see your apartment. Can we go now?"

Spike laughed long and hard. Scott turned red with embarrassment. Spike replied "I guess you don't mince words. Let's go."

They got up from the table, Spike nodded at a few friends as they left, and out on the street they were.

"This way."

They walked side by side and made small talk. Scott got more and more relaxed and more and more excited about what he thought might be coming.

They arrived at Spike's building. In went the key, and they walked up 2 flights of stairs. The key again, and into an apartment that took Scott's breath away. It was like an oasis away from the dingy city streets around that neighborhood. Decorated in early hodge-podge, but with impeccable taste. Color was everywhere. Glass was everywhere. Beautiful carved wooden furniture was everywhere. One whole wall was covered with mahogany bookshelves lined with books from floor to ceiling. Spike clearly had money, and wasn't afraid to spend it on the tangible pleasures that life had to offer.

"What do you do for work, Spike?"

"I am a freelance editor. Various publishers send me lesser works to edit so their full time editors can concentrate on the blockbuster best-selling authors. I make a good living, and I love what I do. How about you?"

"I am an electrician. I too love what I do, although it's certainly not as glamorous as your line of work."

"Scott, that's perfectly ridiculous. Glamour is very much in the eye of the beholder. If you love what you do for work, then as far as I'm concerned, it's glamorous. In fact, what you do delivers much more practical value to the world than what I do."

Scott was smitten. No one had ever spoken to him so supportively. How could he have possibly hesitated so long to visit that bar?

"Sit down and relax. Would you like another drink?"

"Yes, I would. I think I'll have a vodka martini this time. Do you have Grey Goose?"

"I do indeed."

"OK, Grey Goose martini, up, 2 olives, and a couple of splashes of Tabasco."

"Well, you have very interesting desires when it comes to drinking." He went to make the drinks. "How are your desires in other areas of your life?"

OK, that was the leading question. Even Scott knew it. It was now or never.

"Well, my desires run the gamut. I have several interesting desires on my bucket list. For some reason I think maybe I might be able to check off one or two of them before the evening is over."

Spike came back, sat down next to Scott, and handed him his drink. He then reached out, touched Scott's shoulder and kissed him on the cheek. Scott turned to Spike and kissed him on the lips, lightly, hesitantly, but with commitment. Spike removed the drink from Scott's hand, and gently drew him to his feet.

As Scott stood there, Spike began to undress him. He unbuttoned Scott's shirt, slowly, methodically, his eyes never leaving Scott's. He slid the shirt down off his back and on to the floor. Scott was now bare-chested. He reached for Spike's shirt, but Spike pushed his hands away.

"This is your first time. I want it to be special. Let me guide you. Just relax and enjoy the trip."

Next Spike unbuttoned the front of Scott's pants, and unzipped him. He pulled the pants down to the floor.

"OK, sit so I can remove your shoes".

Scott did as he was told. Spike removed shoes, socks, and pulled the pants off, discarding them to one side.

"Now stand up again".

Scott was wearing a pair of jet black boxer briefs. He was already half aroused. He wanted to touch Spike, but knew that he was in the hands of a capable teacher, and he didn't want to spoil anything.

Spike looked down at Scott's bulge, and caressed it for just a second or two. A moan escaped Scott's lips.

Spike smiled. "Stay right where you are."

Spike backed up and stood facing Scott. He began to undress himself. First, he pulled the sweater over his head, and tossed it behind him. He stood still while Scott ogled his chest. Wow, he thought, what an amazing body. Then Spike slowly unzipped his chinos, but did not pull them down. He sat on the edge of a chair and removed his shoes and socks. Then he stood again, and dropped his pants to the floor. He too was wearing boxer briefs, but they were much more direct in their message. Lavender in color, and very, very tight. Scott's eyes widened at the sight of Spike's bulge showing every detail of his shape, every vein, and his cock got fully hard. It was now pushing out the front of his black briefs, showing a tent that made Spike smile.

Spike began to rub himself, getting harder with each pass of his hand. He undulated slightly in a seductive manner. He stared at Scott while rubbing, and watched Scott get more turned on.

Scott reached for his own cock, but Spike said "No, not yet", and Scott dropped his hands.

Spike turned around and lowered the back of his briefs, showing a perfectly formed gluteus maximus. He wiggled it and swayed from side to side, then he pulled the briefs back up, and turned to face Scott again.

Scott was so hard that his back arched forward involuntarily. He pointed his cock directly at Spike. The message was not lost on Spike. He abruptly pulled his briefs down, dropped them to the floor, and kicked them away. His hard cock jumped up and pointed straight ahead. It was straight, cut, long, thick, and graceful. Simply gorgeous.

Spike said, "In case you haven't noticed, I'm an exhibitionist. I love when anyone stares at my naked body."

Scott didn't have to be told twice. He was stunned by Spike's physical beauty, as well as his charm and worldliness. He could barely control himself.

"Now, Scott, remove your briefs," Spike gently commanded.

Scott instantly pulled the front away from his erection, and dropped them. His cock sprung out like a jackrabbit. Spike chuckled. Both men were now totally naked and fully aroused, facing each other.

"OK, Scott, now I want to watch you masturbate, but don't go too far. We have plenty of time, and lots to do."

Scott sat back down on the couch, and began to stroke himself. He moved his legs far apart for ease of access, and so Spike could see everything that was going on. He spit in his right hand, and began rubbing again. He was very, very turned on, but knew he'd better not spoil things by cumming too soon.

Meantime, Spike came closer and kneeled down in front of Scott. He watched intently. Scott had never thought of himself as an exhibitionist, but he was very much enjoying the attention. He spread his legs even wider, and slid forward so his cock was closer to Spike's face. Spike reached out and cupped Scott's ball sack, manipulating the balls the way you would dice at the casino.

Scott groaned and said "God, that feels good."

"That's the point, my man. You are taking to this like John Lennon took to guitar lessons," Spike replied.

Spike reached up from the ball sack and pushed Scott's hand aside. He lowered his head and took the tip of Scott's cock in his mouth. A long period of teasing ensued. Spike licked and nibbled on the tip, moving his hand slowly up and down on the shaft. No deep throating here, just something to raise Scott's level of excitement to unbearable.

"Spike, I'm so turned on. I don't want to cum too soon. Maybe you should stop."

Spike actually stopped!! He got up, his hard, hard cock swinging back and forth. He went behind the couch, and pulled Scott back. He began to give him a massage, first running his fingers through Scott's hair, massaging his scalp, pulling the skin on his forehead.

"Feel free to stroke yourself, but don't go too far," Spike said in a deep smoky aroused voice.

Scott began to stroke, his fist pulling from the glans to the body to the base, ever so slowly. This was always Scott's preferred method of masturbating, as it produced the most heightened sensation for him.

Spike cupped his hands over Scott's eyes and held them in place for a full minute, a classic Yoga move that totally relaxes the recipient. Of course, Scott was in no condition to relax.

After a couple of minutes of this, Spike came back around to the front of the couch, and stood in front of Scott. With no hesitation in the least, Scott leaned forward and sucked Spike's cock deep into his throat, and began giving him head. He'd never done that before, of course, but that didn't matter. He knew what felt good to him, and he used that on Spike. Spike's head went back, his back arched toward Scott, he groaned,

"Oh, Scott, you have a talent you didn't know you have."

Scott kept it up, holding Spikes balls, sucking in and out on his cock, sometimes reaching behind and spreading his cheeks, and rubbing his finger around his anus. Meantime, he used his other hand to continue stroking himself.

Both Scott and Spike were reaching the point of no return. Spike pulled Scott off the couch, onto the floor in a 69 position, Spike on top. Both men started sucking vigorously. The groaning was getting louder. Scott felt the familiar tingling in his crotch, and couldn't hold back. With a rumble in his throat, he came and came in Spike's mouth. A moment later Spike returned the favor. It took several minutes of more sucking and swallowing before both men were spent. Spike rolled off of Scott, and lay next to him, breathing hard.

Smiling, Spike said, "So, Scott, how's that bucket list of yours look now?"

"Well, I'm going to have to look at it. I'm able to cross off either 2 or 3 lines, I'm not sure which." Scott was loving the afterglow banter.

"Well, then let's retire to the bedroom to discuss the matter. Perhaps we can figure out what to do to assure that you get the hat trick before the night is over."

They got up off the floor, headed to the bedroom, with arms around each other, naked with cocks swinging in front of them.