Chance Encounter

By David Lee

Published on Apr 8, 2016

Gay

Chance Encounter, Chapter 2

Our morning commutes continued as usual for the next couple of weeks. I missed our evening trips and eating together, but I didn't want to push myself on him. If I were to do as I really wanted, I'd look way too needy. The awful fact remained - I WAS needy. The more I was around Chance; the more I realized what I'd been missing. Perhaps I should take the job I'd been offered with the financial advising firm so I'd have more social contact.

On a Thursday morning, Chance asked me about my plans for the weekend. Finding that I had none, he invited me to go to an art exhibit on Saturday afternoon and dinner in the evening. I accepted, although I was calculating what kind of outlay he'd have to make. Of course, I offered to drive since he still didn't have a car.

When I picked him up for our "date" two days later, he looked stunning. He was dressed in khaki slacks with a black golf shirt which had tan stripes that matched his pants perfectly. His hair was gelled, combed forward and spiked up in the front. His several-day-old facial hair had been trimmed into a pencil-line beard that accented his jaw-line. He looked HOT!

"God, you clean up nice!" I gushed when he got into the passenger seat.

"Glad I made a favorable impression. I must look pretty scraggly most days."

"I didn't mean it that way."

"I know you didn't. It makes me feel great that you like the look."

"You're gonna be fighting off all the ladies and at least a reasonable percentage of the guys today. They'll be on you like flies on honey."

"I thought the expression was, `like flies on shit,' but I rather like the way you put it."

We bantered like old buds all the way to the museum. He was the happiest I'd seen him thus far.


The exhibit was almost as much fun as the company I was keeping. I was mildly surprised that Chance knew so many details about Abstract Expressionism. He was certainly more knowledgeable than many of the "elite" of society who were milling around gushing in well-worn clichés. Words like "MAHRVELOUS" and other meaningless comments filling the galleries, making me realize how shallow some of them were. Chance sensed it too.

"If bullshit were worth bucks, these people would all be millionaires," he whispered in my left ear.

"It must be, because I suspect this crowd is made up of wealthy country-clubbers."

"I'll bet you could be one of them," he ventured.

"Not if I wanted to keep my lunch down!" I giggled.

We had to go out into the hall for a while because our snickering was likely to get us in trouble with the guards or some uppity docent.

There was time to spare after we'd seen the main exhibit, so we visited other parts of the museum. Chance thought we should get our money's worth. Then he explained to me that a wealthy lady whose Mercedes he'd worked on had given him the tickets for the museum as a tip. She and her husband couldn't use them because of another commitment and she hated to have them go to waste.


When we got to Red Lobster around 5:30 for our dinner, Chance pulled out a coupon that was worth $4.00 off of dinner for two. He seemed embarrassed.

"I'm sorry about planning a `cheap date'," he blushed.

"Are you calling me cheap?" I grinned.

"You know what I mean. This whole day hasn't cost me very much."

"Do you hear me complaining? I think it's great to save money when and where you can. I'm the same way."

"But you don't have to be," he said looking chagrined.

"Maybe not, but I love doing things that don't break the bank. I guess that's why I cook at home a lot."

Our meal was delicious and I didn't argue over the check. I did make an offer to leave the tip, which he turned down. He carefully figured out 20% based on the price before the coupon, and added a little more to it that I suspected he could ill afford. It was his way of doing right by others even when he had little himself. I was impressed.


I invited him to another home-cooked dinner the following Friday, and offered to pick him up after work. He agreed to come, but said he would rather go home and clean up first. He would walk or ride his bicycle over to my condo. Since we, like the rest of the country, were suffering under an intense heat wave, I insisted on giving him a ride from his place. It was even too hot to drive around with the top down. Thank God for air-conditioned convertibles!

This time I raised the ante a bit by grilling sirloin steaks. They weren't the most expensive cuts, and I did get them on sale, but you'd have thought I'd spent a million, given the reception they received. I served them with a Caesar salad and grilled veggies – zucchini, yellow squash, string beans, and sweet potatoes cut like French fries.

Later we sat finishing off the bottle of Cabernet I'd opened for dinner. Chance seemed pretty mellow, but I'd been around him long enough to suspect that something important was on his mind.

"I've gotten really comfortable with you, Matt. I feel like I need to be truthful with you, but I don't want to lose you as a friend. I'm really on the proverbial horns of a dilemma. I guess I have to get this off my chest while the alcohol has given me the balls to do it.

You asked about my family and I put you off. It's time I fessed up. In my sophomore year of high school, I came to the realization that I'm different from the majority of guys. I hid it well and kept praying that God would change me, but he didn't. The struggle was awful. I finally felt I needed to be honest with my parents in my senior year and I came out to them."

"As in saying you're gay?"

"Yeah," he said, barely above whisper. "My mother threw me out a week before graduation. I had already been accepted into the army. It was before the regulations changed; the recruiter didn't ask and I didn't tell. I stayed in the closet and didn't do anything with anyone. It was really hard, but I made it. I hope you won't hate me," he began to cry soundlessly.

Getting up from my chair, I hastened to where he was sitting. For a split second I saw dread in his eyes, just before I joined him on the sofa and held him in my arms.

His body became wracked with vocal sobs of relief as I tenderly embraced him. After a few minutes, he settled down and smiled.

"You have no idea how much I've been obsessing over how to break the news. I see that my fears may have been for naught."

"I had the feeling you might be gay, not from how you act, but from what you said about how people misrepresented God in order to push their own agendas - also from what you didn't say about your family.

My experience was quite the opposite. My family let me know I was loved no matter what. Wow, we both lost our families at about the same age. Only in an odd sense, I suspect it was easier for me, knowing that they didn't intend to leave me alone." I said, beginning to feel tears in my eyes too.

"Well, I'm glad you got me tipsy enough to tell my story. I'll sleep better tonight despite the heat."

"Don't tell me you don't have air conditioning." I exclaimed.

"Okay, I won't tell you."

"Shit, how do you survive?"

"It's bearable if the humidity isn't too high."

"But it's about 80 percent right now. You'll die!"

"Not so far. I was going to buy a window unit, but I decided to save the money toward tuition, or maybe a car, instead. I'll get some help for being a veteran, but it's not cheap going to school."

"You're sleeping here tonight. And don't even think of arguing! I promise I'll keep my hands to myself. I have a couple of unused bedrooms."

"Is that necessary?"

"What?"

"Keeping your hands to yourself?"

"Hell no!" I shouted, just before planting a kiss on his full lips.

Our first kiss was tender, the second was passionate, and the third was downright lustful. I opened my mouth and he accepted the unspoken invitation quickly. Our tongues battled for dominance, both of us feeling like winners.

"I've dreamed of this often since the very first day we met," Chance said, when we stopped to catch our breath.

"Me too," I admitted. "When I saw you all dressed up and looking so hot like you did last week, and do now, I wanted to jump your bones right there in the gallery. We could have called it a happening or performance art or whatever, like those things in the 60's."

"I don't think I want an audience. I want you all to myself."

"You've got me," I assured him.

"How can I stay over? I don't have anything to sleep in," he said demurely.

"What makes you think we'll sleep in anything and what makes you think we'll sleep much?" I giggled.

We did sleep, eventually. Our lovemaking was rather like what young teens might do. Neither of us was experienced. We didn't penetrate each other in any way the first time. We might have tried, had we not cum so quickly while rubbing our bodies together with our hard dicks trapped between us.

After a short nap, we started making out all over again. That time we explored the joys of oral sex. First, we sat up in bed viewing a video clip I'd downloaded from a porn site of two young studs licking and sucking each other until they blew huge loads. That primed our pumps!

It's difficult to believe that we had never done more than jack off with a friend or two when we were in school. We proved to be quick-studies – or quick-"studlies" as Chance jokingly termed us. If a teenager had been a fly on the wall, he'd probably have laughed at what novices we were, but we were satisfied.

We fell asleep cuddled together after our second round of orgasms. It felt so comfortable despite the outside temperature because the thermostat was set fairly low. Chance was probably a bit chilly, being used to sleeping without any air conditioning. At least it appeared that way as he clung to my back.


The urgent need to pee awakened me around 6:30. I slipped out of bed carefully so as not to disturb my sleeping beauty. He looked so cute with his bed-head hair and boyish face.

When I returned to the room, Chance was just waking up. He was grinning like a little kid on Christmas morning.

"I see it wasn't just a great wet-dream," he said.

"No, it was the real thing. Sniff the aroma of decaying sperm in the air."

"I can't really smell it that much," he insisted as he put his hands behind my ass and pulled me toward him, burying his nose in my crotch. "Ah, now I smell it! It's making me horny, but I'd better go pee before I wet the bed."

I had been joking about the odor in the room because the AC had disbursed whatever aroma may have been present initially, but my attempt at humor had paid off. When he came back, I had a great excuse to nuzzle his junk and that made both of us hornier.

"Should we shower first, or just rinse off our dicks?" I asked, hoping he'd go for the second option.

"We can shower if you want, but I wouldn't mind tasting your cock when it's not squeaky clean – unless the thought offends you..."

"It sounds really hot to me! Anything else you'd like to do?"

"Let's suck each other at the same time. I want to feel it all at once – giving and getting."

After we did a quick rinse, our conversation ceased and the trip to the paradise of pure pleasure began. I had often fantasized about having a slightly musky dick in my mouth. My saliva began to secrete like a waterfall as soon as I tasted his. Yes, I had loved the clean, pure taste last night, but this was definitely a turn-on too. Whoever said that there's no such thing as being too clean, had it wrong.

If the consistency and pitch of his moaning was any indication, Chance seemed to be feeling the same. We came almost simultaneously and rather quickly – sooner than we'd have liked.

We spent at least 10 minutes in the afterglow cleaning up any extra juices from our bodies with our mouths. When it was over, he grinned at me.

"That was HOT!" he exclaimed. "I've gone from being starved for love to being satiated all in the space of less than 24 hours. I wish it could last forever."

"Maybe it can," I said, looking into his beautiful green eyes. "Why don't you move in with me?"

"I don't know. We've only met recently. You don't know everything about me."

"We've known each other more than three months – longer than the three minutes lots of guys spend together when they hook up."

"But that's it; I don't want just a hookup relationship. I'm looking for long-term – like the `till death do us part' kind of thing. Is that a silly, unrealistic aspiration?"

"Not at all," I assured him. "I'm looking for family too. You're right that we don't know everything about each other. What couple ever does before they live together on a day to day basis? Couldn't we try to see if we're compatible? I'm sure I have habits that will annoy the crap out of you at times, and you probably have a few idiosyncrasies that'll get on my nerves too, but I'll bet my life that there's nothing that can't be worked out as our affection for each other grows."

"I'm a very proud, self-reliant type who wants to pull his own weight," Chance declared. "I want to contribute as an equal partner to any living relationship we'd have. No matter how many hours I put in at the shop, I won't be able to pay half the mortgage on this condo, not to mention utilities, groceries, etc. I don't want to feel like a kept man."

"Chance, I'd love to `keep' you forever, and there is no mortgage. You can think of the roof over our heads as a posthumous gift from my parents because it was paid for with insurance money. I know they'd love to have me share it with the guy I care about. If it makes you feel better, you can help with the laundry and other chores, but I really don't want you to be distracted from what you have to do to complete your education. After you finish your preliminary schooling at the junior college, I'd be happy for you to quit work so you can do your best in college. That's what partners do for each other when they care."

"The offer is awesome and I'm really tempted, but I hope I don't end up feeling emasculated."

"Give in to temptation! I promise not to tie off your balls. They're a couple of my favorite things," I giggled as I grabbed them and planted a big sloppy kiss on his sac.

My fondling of his equipment started the embers to flare up again and soon we were making out with as much hunger as if we'd never made love before. We didn't stop until each of us had enjoyed a second high-protein shake.


We did shower before going to the kitchen to make breakfast, but we didn't bother to dress. We vowed that we would turn the thermostat to a warmer setting to save energy and not put anything on unless we had to go out in public.

It didn't take a lot of convincing to get Chance to eat breakfast on the patio naked. My place has an eight-foot fence and there are no taller buildings close enough for anyone to see into my small backyard. I often lie out nude to get an all-over tan. I even have a favorite pissing spot by some bushes that seem to thrive on the extra water and minerals.


After our plates and flatware were in the dishwasher, I brought out loungers and lotion so we could take advantage of the sun before it got too hot to bear.

Basting each other's body with sunscreen, frequently, was certainly pleasurable, but we didn't make love again. Mostly, we spent our time telling each other about growing up – lots of details all the way from best friends, times of joy and sorrow, to awkward dating fiascos we'd experienced in trying to be straight. He still said very little about his family, and I got the impression that he might be embarrassed to have me know too many details, at least for the time being.

We laughed a lot and sometimes cried a little. By noon, when it was becoming blistering hot, we had shared many things. It was our first step in baring our souls without fear of being hurt. I think it was cathartic for both of us and certainly strengthened the connection that had begun to grow.

We took a quick shower to clean off the oil and cool down our bodies. Then we had lunch before finally putting on clothes so we could go to Chance's tiny apartment and gather up his belongings.

He was embarrassed about the condition of the building and his lack of possessions. I tried to let him know that none of those things reflected on him personally or upon his worth as an individual.

It didn't take us long to pack everything into my car. After we'd swept the place out, he turned in his notice and key to the manager. The man was none too happy about refunding the deposit, but had no choice. I was there as a witness about the condition Chance had left it in, even taking photos in case we needed to prove it.

The manager, knowing he was outmaneuvered in the dealings, tried to insult Chance as we left.

"I see you've found a boyfriend to take care of you. I can always tell about scum like you - fuckin' homos – making your living on your back."

Instead of screaming at him or punching him out as many guys might have done, Chance put his arm around my waist and grinned.

"Aw, don't be jealous, Max. That's so unbecoming of you. Don't give up hope; your prince may come along when you least expect it. Mine did!"

Max turned several shades of red, but held his tongue. He'd been outclassed as well as outwitted and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it!


Author's notes: WOW! Thank you readers for your overwhelmingly positive response to my new story. The list includes: Jim W, Ott H, Dick M, Bill B, Prof. Jim, Gary P, Jeremy R, Jae B, Colin C, Burke C, Charles G, Darell R, JCH, Rod R, Tom A, Don S, Rich, Larry S, Bob B, Peter M, Vern, Ken R, Jim L, Denise B, Neal H, Cole N, Bill K, Ken D, Jim M, Zero, Paul F, John L, Lonnie R, Rich L, Chandra B, Paul R, Tom H, and Howard A. I believe this is the largest number ever. I hope you recognize yourselves by the initials or the nicknames.

It's you who keep me writing!

A special thanks to Tom and David, my faithful editors!

Another thanks to Nifty for providing this free venue, and thanks to you who contribute from time to time to keep it free.

David

Next: Chapter 3: Chance Encounter 3


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