A Big Sin

By Henry Brooks (Hankster1430) - Laureate Author

Published on Apr 9, 2021

Gay

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A Big Sin

Prologue

My trick of the evening and I were alone in his hotel room. As soon as we were done having sex, we both dressed rapidly. I had every intention of getting out of there quickly. I was physically satisfied for the moment. The man (I didn't care to know his name) was a fantastic lover. I wanted more, but I was leaving early the following day to return to New York. I needed to get some rest from a wearying day of selling, and then fucking. I didn't bother to get his name or telephone number, should I wish to contact him on my next business trip to Trenton.

Suddenly, he had a gun in his hand. I didn't see where it came from, but it was aimed right at my face.

"Put your wallet, your watch, your cell phone, and your ring on the dresser," he ordered. "Then get out of here, and I won't hurt you. It's literally your decision; your money or your life."

I began to scream in utter fear, when suddenly, I felt myself being shaken awake.

"You were having that dream again," Tommy said. "It's getting to be at least once a week now. You were screaming and crying in your sleep. If you don't see a shrink soon, you'll never see me again. You've got to get to the cause of this frightening dream. Maybe a shrink can pry it out of your subconscious."

Tommy was one of my fuck buddies. He was married, so there wasn't anything between us, but we were good friends. I got together with him more often than all the others. His wife was a buyer for Bloomingdale's, and he slept over quite often whenever she was on the road. I knew that he was being harsh with me, but I had to forgive him. He was concerned about me. I was having the same dream with accelerating frequency. When he stayed over, I was disturbing him in his sleep, and I was scaring myself to death.

I didn't need a shrink to examine my subconscious. I knew exactly what had happened to cause me to have this disturbing recurrent dream, but I couldn't tell a living soul, not even a shrink. Eight years ago, I committed the greatest of all sins. I had killed the man in my dream, the man who was willing to take my life for a few bucks.

-1-

Nowadays, I teach social studies at NYU. Back then I was a manufacturer's representative for a huge bridal gown company. I also sold mother-of-the bride, and bridesmaid gowns. I made a better than average living as a rep, and I invested my money wisely.

I don't ever miss the travelling part of my job, but during my travels as a rep, I found myself in Trenton, NJ one evening. Whenever I arrived in a new town, I took out my laptop and searched the gay yellow pages for a nearby gay bar. I didn't need to do that on this night in Trenton. I knew just where I was going to go. I had been there often enough. It's where I always successfully picked up a trick for the night.

I never had trouble scoring. I am six feet, two inches tall. I played football as an undergraduate at NYU. I'm not going to be humble. I'm very handsome. My hair is straight and jet black. My eyes are a beautiful sky blue. Everybody admires my eyes. My nose is just the right size for my face and body, and I have a manly chin. For those lucky enough to have seen me naked, my cock is five inches flaccid. It is fat, uncut and grows to seven inches when I'm aroused. Not only did my attributes help me in the sex department, I'm convinced it helped me make sales.

On the night I write about, I didn't take two steps into the bar, when I was approached by a good looking young man. We were about the same age, twenty-four at the time. He was no taller than five feet, nine inches, and he could use some body building. That didn't bother me. He was very handsome, and my interest was with what hung between his legs, not his height or his bulk. He offered to buy me a drink, and I accepted. It was early in the evening on a work night. We had no trouble finding a little table for two.

We made the usual inane chit chat, and the dude asked me point blank to go back to his hotel room with him. I thought he was a local, so I was surprised that he was staying at a hotel. I guess he sensed my confusion, and he felt he had to explain.

"I have two straight roommates," he said, "so when I want to play, I get a hotel room. The place is right around the corner, and rents by the hour. It's a little sleazy, but it's clean. I got a room just before I came to the bar. I'm an optimist, you see."

I liked the idea. It was better than going back to my hotel where he might be able to identify me. I preferred anonymity.

I didn't wish to let him know how anxious I was, so I said, "You bought me a drink, so let me buy you one. Then we'll go have some fun."

"Great!" he said.

After our second drink, we left. As he said, the hotel was right around the corner, and we walked over. We entered the lobby and went right into the elevator which was standing on the lobby floor. There was nobody at the desk, and I was glad of that. I was out of the closet, but I was still wary of being recognized. We entered his room without encountering another living soul.

"Do you want to shower?" he asked, "or shall we get right to it?"

"Let's just take a quick shower," I answered. "I showered after work, and I'm clean, but I have designs on certain parts of your anatomy."

He nodded to let me know that he was in agreement. We both stripped rapidly, and then stood quietly, as we took in the sight before us. There was no doubt that the man began to drool when he checked me out. As for me, I was shocked. He was small in stature, and skinny, but he had a magnificent cock. He was flaccid and the damn thing hung way below his balls. It was cut, fat, and at least six inches.

"This is going to be a great night," I said. I had meant to think that thought, but I was so awestruck, that I muttered it out loud. He smiled, and I was taken in by his beautiful smile and sparkling white teeth.

We didn't waste any time in the shower. It was obvious to both of us that we were busy men, and had things to do the next day. I washed him and he washed me. We both paid attention to getting our asses good and clean. I sensed that my unknown trick liked rimming as much as I did. He did.

We dried off and hopped into bed. We began with a lusty and passionate game of sixty-nine, but we refrained from cumming. There were no words spoken, but we both communicated through body language, that we wanted our ultimate moment of bliss to occur while we were inside each other's asses rather than in our mouths.

"I left stuff in the top drawer when I checked in," he said. He jumped out of bed and retrieved a box of condoms and two tubes of lube which he left on the bedside table. I smiled at him to let him know that I was pleased with his efficiency.

Suddenly, I had an awakening. The two of us were communicating telepathically, as if we had known each other all our lives. I didn't dwell on my epiphany. We both had better things on our minds.

"You can fuck me first," he said.

He turned on his back, and I rimmed him for at least fifteen minutes. Finally, he greased his asshole to the fullest. I put on a condom and lubed my cock. He raised his legs to my shoulders, and I lined up for my penetration. I went in easily. He didn't seem to feel any pain at all. I told you, I'm hefty, and everyone else I had ever fucked, had trouble receiving me.

The moment I entered him, he clamped up and made himself as tight as possible. When I started to stroke in and out, he kept relaxing and tightening his ass's hold on my prick. Needless to say, I couldn't hold back. I came faster than both of us would have liked.

I got off him, and he jumped out of bed. He removed the loaded condom from my cock, and flushed it down the toilet. Then he climbed back into bed with me. That's when things got really strange. He wrapped himself around me, and we began to kiss with open mouths, and very wet tongues. At the same time, we started to fondle each other. We were no longer having sex, we were making love. I'd never been in love, and I had no idea that I was falling for this guy. I'm sure the same thoughts were occurring to him.

"Please," he whispered in my ear, "let me fuck you now."

I was happy to oblige. He had more trouble entering me than I had entering him. No matter, I braved it out. When he was all the way in, he didn't move until he sensed that the pain was gone and I was fully relaxed. He came even faster than I did.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't want to cum so fast, but I lost control."

I remained silent.

This time, we both jumped out of bed, and ran to the bathroom. He flushed the loaded rubber down the toilet and we shared the sink while we cleaned up. I wanted to dress and get out of there. Now that my lust was satisfied, I was ready to retreat into anonymity.

I reached for my clothes, and he asked me if I wanted to cuddle some more.

"No," I lied. "I have a big day tomorrow." There was nothing I wanted more than to cuddle with him, but I was not ready to admit it.

He grabbed his clothes and was dressed even faster than I was. I started toward the door, but he raised his arm, and my stomach sank. He had a gun in his hand. He ordered me to put my wallet, watch, cell phone, and ring on the dresser, and get out.

"I'll be gone before you can leave the building," he said, "so go to the police if you want to, but I won't be here."

I was no longer shocked. I was angry and growing angrier by the second. My adrenaline was flowing, and I didn't know what came over me, but I was suddenly on the football field facing the enemy team. I was twice as big as this punk. Without giving a damn about the gun, I went into tackle mode. I threw myself at him, and he was too surprised to react. I tackled him low, around his knees, and he fell over.

I took a second to catch my breath. The guy wasn't moving. Slowly I noticed some sort of stain below him. The stain was spreading, and I realized that it was blood. My onetime, former lover had hit his head on the edge of the dresser, and it looked like he had bashed his skull in. I got sick to my stomach when I realized that I had killed him. I regretted not giving him all that he asked for.

I stood petrified. I had to think what to do. The whole thing was an accident, and I knew I had to make sure that it looked that way. I pulled the gun out of his hand. Strangely it was free of blood. Not only that, but it was a toy. Now I felt worse than ever. I looked down at him, and he actually did look like he could well have fallen and hit his head by accident.

I had not seen any security cameras in this flea trap, and nobody had seen me enter with this unfortunate man. I looked around to make sure that I hadn't left anything behind that could be traced to me. I wiped clean all the door handles and shower taps. I didn't use the elevator, but took the stairs. The stairs took me to a back door, not the lobby. I ran back to the bar, and dropped the toy gun in their dumpster. I jumped into my car, and drove back to my hotel.

I didn't wait until morning. I packed everything including my samples. I checked out, and headed my car toward the New Jersey Turnpike, and began my trek back to New York. I shook and shivered all the way. I only stopped for gas. I was too sick to my stomach to eat a thing. I was full of regrets and cried most of the way. I really liked this young man, and if he was desperate for money, I would have helped him. Instead, I let my anger get the best of me. Damn, damn, damn.

Besides crying a lot on the drive back, I made myself a promise to retrain myself for a job that didn't take me on the road. I had to travel a great deal, and I was on the road far more than I was home. It was fun at first, but I began to weary of the extensive travel, and I knew I had to make a career change. I had a bachelor's degree in the humanities. I went back to NYU to earn a master's degree and a PhD. While working on my doctorate, I taught a few undergraduate courses. When I got my degree, NYU asked me to stay on full time. I was so lucky. I got a great job in my home town, and I never had to pound the pavements to find it.

It has been eight years since "the incident," but I still have terrible nightmares. I'm afraid that it will be this way for the rest of my life. No, not just like this, far worse. My nightmares are occurring with more and more frequency.

-2-

A new fall semester was a week away. During the summer, one of the professors in my department resigned. He got a better position at Princeton. The head of the humanities department arranged for a soiree in his condo, so that the rest of us professors could meet his replacement. It was scheduled for the Friday evening before classes were to begin the following Monday.

My invitation was addressed to me plus one. For a brief moment I thought of asking Tommy to be my plus one, if his wife was out of town. But what if the newbie was gay, and he turned out to be my Mr. Right? I wouldn't want him to think that I was in a relationship, so I came alone. I was thirty-two years old and still looking for a life partner. I wasn't obsessively anxious for a relationship, but it would be nice if it happened.

I came into the house fashionably late. Someone escorted me to the living room. Harry Morganthal, head of the department, was leading a very handsome man to the front of the room.

I see we're all here," Harry said, "so let me introduce you to your new colleague, Colin Hayes. I've asked Dr. Hayes to say something about himself, and then I'll take him around to meet every one of you.

Colin started to speak, and I wanted to run out of the room, but my feet wouldn't move. Besides, I would have to meet him sooner or later, so I stayed put. COLIN HAYES WAS THE MAN I MURDERED, or thought I murdered.

"I was raised in foster care," Colin began, "and I worked my way through undergraduate and graduate schools until I got my doctorate. It took me fourteen years, but here I am doing what makes me happy, and having you all as the family I never had, my academic family so to speak. I'm looking forward to meeting all of you and working with you."

I steeled myself for Harry's introduction. I prayed Colin would not recognize me, but that was wishful thinking. When the time came, I shook his hand. "Colin, I'd like you to meet Steve Williams," Harry said. "You guys are the same age and I hope you will be great friends."

I gave no indication that I knew Colin, and if he recognized me, he didn't tip his hand either. Harry didn't linger long. He took Colin on to meet the next professor, leaving me with an immense enigma, the worst one of my life. When I shook Colin's hand, I realized that I had fallen in love with him on that awful night, and I still loved him. No wonder I was having these terrible nightmares. I vowed to befriend him and win his love. I also knew that one day I would have to reveal to him who I was (if he didn't already know). How to do it was my big problem.

After all the introductions were completed, Colin socialized easily with everyone in the room. Stupid me, I kept avoiding him. Finally, he approached me and I couldn't run.

Without any words of introduction, nor the need for a segue, he said, "I've waited eight years to ask you this. Why were you so anxious to run out on me that night in Trenton? I fell in love with you, you know. I asked you to cuddle with me. I wanted to make love with you all night."

"I needed to leave you because I believed I was falling for you also. I guess it scared me. Why did you try to rob me if you fell in love with me?"

"I was desperate for money to finance my education, and you looked like you could afford to part with a few bucks. You were the first person I ever tried to rob, and the last. The outcome was not pleasant."

"Oh Colin, I never meant to hurt you, but you got me so angry. I wasn't thinking straight, so I tackled you with all the force I had used on the football field." I started to sob. "I thought I had killed you. The thought of it has haunted me every day of my life. What happened?"

Now Colin began to cry also. He took my hand and led me out to Harry's terrace. It was a beautiful late summer night, and I wondered why nobody was out there except us.

"As you can see, you didn't kill me. I came to, and called 911. I told them that I had tripped and hit my head on the edge of the dresser. It wasn't your fault Steve. I should never have tried to rob someone who is so much bigger than I am. I should never have tried to rob anyone. I got stitched up in the ER, and they sent me on my way."

"I would have helped you financially if you had confided in me."

Instinctively, we hugged each other in a stupid attempt to comfort one another. Our packages were rubbing together, and we began to dry hump each other. I was shocked. Colin wasn't skinny anymore. His body had plenty of muscle and plenty of bulk. Somewhere along the line, he must have started to work out, and eat a nutritious diet.

"Stop," Colin said. "I'm cumming."

"Come home with me Colin. No hotel for us tonight."

"Unfortunately," Colin lamented, "I can't occupy my new apartment for another week. I rented a furnished efficiency apartment near the university, but for now, I'm still in a hotel."

"Let's go there and bring all your stuff to me. I don't want to lose you again."

"Yes, yes," Colin agreed.

"I've invested wisely, and I have plenty of money. I'll pay what has to be paid to break your lease. Move in with me tonight," I pleaded.

"I'm covered," he replied. "I gave the landlord first and last month's rent, and a security deposit. If I tell him tomorrow that I'm breaking the lease, I should be fully paid without violating the terms of the lease. Besides, he told me that he had a waiting list of students who wanted to rent my apartment, but he gave it to me because he preferred to rent to a teacher rather than a student. He'll have no trouble leasing it right away, and he'll have himself a nice windfall."

We left the party at the first opportunity. We had both come by taxi. New York City was not a place for autos. Parking was a bitch. We took a cab to Colin's hotel. When we got there, we realized the room was paid for the night. We were so anxious to make love, that we decided to spend the night there. We thought it was a good idea until we realized that we had no lube and no condoms, so we packed Colin's car and drove to my apartment.

We had the entire weekend to make love, so we took our time. We brought all of Colin's stuff into the apartment, and we made room for everything; in my closets, my dresser and my bathroom. I should have said, "our," instead of "my."

When everything was in place, and it appeared that Colin was a full time resident, we practically ripped our clothes off, and walked into our shower. The first day of the rest of our lives was about to begin. The two of us could not stop crying, but the tears were for how happy we were.

Neither of us wanted to cum in the shower, so we cleansed ourselves quickly, dried up and fell into our bed. We turned into a sixty-nine position, and sucked until we felt our orgasms cumming on, and we stopped. At least, we stopped sucking cock, but I began to rim Colin, and he was screaming in ecstasy. When he could bear it no longer, I fucked him. I didn't restrict my fucking to his beautiful asshole, but I fucked him under his armpits and between his legs also. Then he returned the favor. We wanted to make up for eight lost years.

We made love all night and into the morning hours. We only stopped when my phone rang at about 11 AM Saturday morning. It was Tommy.

"My wife is leaving on a buying trip early tomorrow afternoon," he informed me. "I'm coming over as soon as she leaves."

That gave me quite a jolt. I explained to him, without going into detail, that my long lost love had come back into my life, and he had moved in with me. I told him that I wanted to remain friends, but sex was out. I could hear Tommy crying on the other end of the line.

"If I can't have sex with you, I'll go crazy," he lamented.

I felt bad for him, so I told him to come over Sunday evening. "I'll make us dinner, and you can meet Colin."

"Okay," he agreed. "I'll come over after she leaves, so we can spend some time together before dinner.

Epilogue

When he arrived the next day, Tommy seemed resentful of Colin. I knew I had to diffuse that situation immediately. After introductions were made, I took Tommy's hand and sat him down on the sofa. I began to lecture him.

"I'm going to tell you something," I said, "and you're not going to like it. Just know that I want only the best for you. I want you to find your soulmate just as I have found mine."

Tommy seemed to relax a little bit. "Yes, go on," he said.

"Listen, Friend," I said. "You're gay, and it's not fair to either you or your wife to continue to live a fraudulent life. It's an awful deception, and a terrible waste of energy. Just fortify yourself with a couple of scotches straight up, and tell her that you're gay and want a divorce. I know any number of gay guys who would be more than interested in dating you, and I know you would feel the same way about them. I'll be happy to introduce you around. I know you don't think so right now, but there's nothing more liberating than coming out of the closet."

"She just left this afternoon," Tommy said, "and won't be back for two weeks. Do you think you could take me to your favorite watering hole this weekend, and begin the introductions?"

"Of course. I also want to introduce Colin to my friends, and when I introduce you, Tommy, I'll be sure to let them know that you're available."

One of the men I introduced Tommy to was another of my fuck buddies, former fuck buddy, that is. Boy, did they hit it off. They moved in together several months after they met, and Tommy's divorce was not yet final. I guess you might say that I killed two birds with one stone. The four of us pal around, and we have become best friends.

I've never been happier in my life. By extension, I want everyone to be happy. To that end, I have become the unofficial match maker to everyone I know who is still single. I admit that it can be nice to be free as a bird sometimes, but it is infinitely better to share your life with someone you love. That is even truer when you are free of unwarranted guilt. I no longer have those terrible nightmares, and I sleep soundly through the night.

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