My two quickie encounters with Chris sure had taught me a few things! Among them was the realization that physical sex with him was addictive. I wanted more. I had to have him again. It also broke apart my resolve to not have physical sex with any guy on my doorstep. (Just to be pedantic, I kept telling myself that he was my back yard, not on the doorstep, but wherever it was, I wanted more.) I was in heat. I had it bad. I also told myself that I just knew that he also wanted it more than he had ever imagined wanting anything like this! I knew that he was as hot for me as I was for him! We did not connect the next day. But he did call me the next day. I had gotten tied up in one of those crisis meetings at work where I could not be at my desk or my telephone. I would race out of the meeting room and check my messages, and Chris would have a message waiting for me. I would return the call and leave one for him. We did this all day long, never connecting. When I drove home, I drove past his house just to look for him, my cock throbbing in my briefs. His car was not there, the house dark. Disappointed, I drove to his office. No car. I wanted to make contact with him so badly that it hurt, but I was stymied. I called his cell phone a hundred times, it seemed. No Chris. OK, I told myself, maybe he didn’t want it as badly as I did; maybe he was still feeling guilty or something. I slept fitfully. I would doze with Chris in my mind and I would awake with an aching hard-on. Then I would decide that he had rejected me, and I would awake in a sweat. I got up earlier than usual, and went for my morning run. I jogged by his house, still dark. When I left for work, I drove by his house but there was no sign of life. I called his cell phone several times and left messages. There was no return message. By lunchtime, I had worked up a full head of steam, full of anger and rejection, and I practiced what I might say to him when we next met, whenever that might be. I could not really decide if I was more pissed off at him for rejecting me or pissed off at myself for having the feelings of a love-sick teen-ager and allowing his rejection to affect me! At lunchtime, I went to the gym to work off my emotions. Tony, the personal trainer that I hired some time ago, came over and told me to take it easy and not have a heart attack! Well, there was a tug at my heart but the attack was probably more like a “hard” attack. I would think lustfully of Chris and throw a raging boner inside my jockstrap, and then would think of his ignoring me, and it would go down. When I stripped in the locker room, my jockstrap was wet, but only I knew that it was a combination of lustful pre-cum mixed with sweat. In the shower, I grew a bit annoyed when a couple of the guys were openly cruising me until I realized that I was throwing them a full and completely unobstructed view of my full erection since I was just thinking of Chris and they were simply admiring. Today, I was not in the mood to be cruised, checked out, or even admired! It was late Wednesday afternoon now, and I had given up on Chris. Christmas was this weekend but his lack of contact was spoiling any holiday spirit that I had. That is, until my secretary, Anna, came in with a note for me. My doctor’s office was holding on the line to talk with me, not an emergency, but they would like to have me interrupted if possible. I felt as though I had just hit the deep rolling pocket on a roller coaster, and could not breathe! I nodded that I would take the call, and I mumbled that I would be right back. I answered with an arrogant and defensive tone, which was not lost on Chris. However, in that manner that he has of speaking a lot of multiple thoughts in a single sentence, he quickly destroyed my defiant attitude. His wife’s mother had taken a fall and had broken some bones. They had been summoned to go to her aid, so he was out of town and out of touch about two hundred miles away. The conversation had started in the most frosty and aloof tone of voice that I could muster; it all melted as he talked. He apologized over and over! I just wanted him to keep talking! He was now driving back, and about three hours from home. Marilyn and the kids had stayed there since they were going to be with her for Christmas anyway. He was going to rejoin them on Christmas Eve, and…and that meant that Chris was going to be home alone for a couple of nights! That immediately gave me a rock hard solid erection that tented my trousers! I had reached the conclusion quicker than he had stated it, so I was prepared when he said that he would be at home alone if I wanted to “maybe come over for a beer to keep him company.” His tone bordered on the edge of begging. I was very cool about it. I told him that I would “see what I could do.” I could tell that he was more than a bit frustrated. I was just getting even with him over the lack of contact! I sat at my desk, mind whirling at full power! My plans were formulated with military precision; I knew what I needed to do. First, I called my wife. No, she had no problem with my need to be out of town. She did not even ask the details! She often liked to have me gone for short periods, and this was convenient for her shopping and cooking preparations for Christmas. She also filled me in on the news of Marilyn’s mother’s broken bones. She and the kids would not return until after Christmas, though Chris might be around. She said that she had told Marilyn that we would take good care of Chris. I agreed. If she only knew how I intended to take care of Chris! I returned to the conference room, and told the gang that I had a personal appointment; my boss waved me away, no problem! I was home within minutes and had an overnight bag packed. I kissed the wife, told her how annoying it was to have to do business so close to Christmas. On the way out, I took the house key that Marilyn had given us in case there was ever an emergency. I drove to the mall. I left my car in the mall hotel’s parking lot, and went inside to call a taxi. I was deposited in Chris’s driveway just as the winter dark was setting in. Using the key, I went inside, and cranked up the gas logs in the fireplace. I was literally shaking with excitement. I poured myself a scotch and one for Chris, just in time, as I heard the garage door open to announce his arrival. Chris saw me the moment he opened the door, and his surprise was painted all over his face. He was stammering. I put my hand over his mouth to stop the flow of words. I took control, got him to sit down, and brought him a stiff scotch. (Something even stiffer was between my legs!) Whenever he tried to talk, I would shush him. After a few minutes of silence sitting in front of the warm fire, sipping the scotch, he definitely seemed to be mellowing out a bit. I asked him to stand. I started unbuttoning his shirt. He put up somewhat of a token resistance, the “Hey, what are you doing?” routine but he knew damn well what I was doing and he did not protest very much. He put his arms over my shoulders and started a low purring, like a contented kitten in the sunshine. He kept asking the obvious, “What are you doing?” and I just kept on doing it. I was stripping myself along the way, and we arrived at total nudity at the same time. The darkened room with only the fireplace flickering, the warmth of the scotch, and the romantic mood fueled by the desire for each other was incredible. We were standing, holding each other. I took Chris’s hand and rubbed it across my chest and my nipples hardened. I took both of his hands to my crotch and let him play with my dick. I let him stroke, and let him cradle my balls. (If this truly was a virgin expedition, I intended to teach him what I liked!) I let my hands roam all over his body, and he soon reached the point where I could tell that much more genital contact was going to cause orgasm, so I went easy. His arousal was complete. Instinctively I knew that it was now time to do it. I put my mouth on his and kissed him deeply. He was saying, “No, no, oh no, I can’t do this,” and protesting just enough that I had to force his lips apart and force his tongue to intertwine with mine. Soon he stopped the protest and returned the kiss with incredible hungry lust. Somehow we sank to the floor in the process, lying side by side, dickheads pressing against each other as we each stroked the other. The kiss simply could not be broken. When it became essential to fully breathe, Chris pulled away, and said again, “This is so incredible! I have never done anything like this before. Never! I have never kissed a man. I have never sucked a cock before. I have never even seen any man’s hard-on. I have never been naked with any man. I don’t know what is happening! I don’t understand it. Do you?” Teasing, I responded that we could stop this at any time he wanted if he didn’t want to go on. He looked at me, his eyes deeply locked into mine, and raised his head to kiss me, this time at his instigation, with the deepest of passion. Our tongues went deep. The kiss held as we explored the depths of each other. Our hands were still stroking each other’s meat, and I felt him coming as his eruption was inevitable, his nuts were tight and churning, and I knew that his ejaculation could not be stopped. The thrill of such a violent release pushed my limit as well, and we both climaxed at nearly the same time, sending buckets of cum flowing onto each other. Our lips remained locked until the spasms ceased, then we each lay back flat on our backs. We lay there for quite some time, nuzzling and butterfly kissing. Finally Chris pushed away, and raised himself up on his knees, and looking down at me, still flat on my back on the floor; he said, “Hey Stud, can we talk? Can we talk now please?”