San Francisco
Part 23

"Willie!" I yelped as he was about to climb into his shorts. "I was only teasing. OK? You've earned a BJ... maybe a whole bunch of BJs. Jeez! No wonder Spencer's got the hots for you big time. You're awesome!"

"Well," he taunted as he cocked his head to one side, and dangled his shorts in mid air, "if you're absolutely sure I've earned it. You wanna go to the bedroom?"

"Nope. Let's do it here... out in the open. It's more exciting. Come closer."

I remained seated on the bench as Willie stood right in front of me. Then I grabbed the sides of his boxers and slid them down 'til only his knob was hidden beneath the wet cotton. I pressed my lips to the patch of pre-cum and tasted its fresh saltiness before sucking it through the material.

"It's an awesome sight," he said, which caused me to raise my eyes to his handsome face. "I mean, seeing you down there enjoying me. It's as though you're paying me the highest possible compliment. Know what I'm saying?"

"I'm not just doing it for you, Willie. I'm doing it 'cause I wanna. It's for me, too, y'know." And with that, I slid his boxers further down, and watched his boner bounce a couple of times before it settled, staring me right in the face. Woohoo! For a few moments, I studied its funky-shaped head... swollen to full size, sloping upwards and away from the pink piss slit to the high ridge that surrounded it. Beyond that was a thick, veiny shaft that led to a patch of pubes, and two juice-filled balls dangling beneath.

"Changed your mind again, Daniel?"

"Nope. Just admiring it. It's one helluva cock, dude."

While I fondled his nads with one hand, and allowed my other to glide over the warm, smooth skin of his muscular chest, I kissed the length of his throbber, first along one side, then the other. It felt steel-hard and hot against my lips as his wicked scent drifted up my nostrils, and his pubes tickled the tip of my nose. Then I stopped playing with his balls, and grabbed his boner in my fist so that I could smear his leaking pre-cum all over my lips. Mmmm! I could smell it and taste it. Awesome!

Enough foreplay, I thought. Time for action! I took hold of his firm buns, sent my lips over the ridge of his knob, and pulled him toward me 'til his solid meat had reached the back of my throat. By then, his hands were on my head, fondling my blonde hair.

"You're right," I heard him say before his boner reversed between my lips, then moved forward again. "It is more exciting outdoors. Let me know if I get a bit rough... Spencer says I get a bit carried away sometimes."

A bit? Whoa! Within seconds, Willie was pumping away like an outa control steam engine; alternating between thrusting, backing off, then thrusting again... all the while keeping a tight grip on my head. Meantime, I was squeezing his muscular buns, and sliding my fingers up and down the moist warmth of his sensitive ass crack, pausing every now and then to feel the soft sponginess of his hole. And while all that was happening, my lips and tongue were on a dedicated mission to electrify his rock-hard meat, which was relentlessly stabbing the hell outa my face.

"Oh! What a sight!" he would pant every few seconds. "I've gotta tell you, Daniel, you've got such a fuckable face. Holy shit! Don't take that the wrong way, bud. It's just that..." Then he'd be silent for a while before saying something similar, punctuated by frequent grunts and groans of pure ecstasy.

Suddenly, Willy dug his fingers into my scalp, and pulled my head to his crotch. I reacted immediately by sending a finger deep into his tight hole, which automatically squeezed around it. His boner thickened, then began to thrash wildly about in my mouth as massive wads of juice exploded. Gulp, gulp, gulp. But it was like trying to swallow a gallon of thick, sticky cream in record time. As soon as I'd forced one wad past my tonsils, another would fire outa his pisshole as his monster stabbed my throat again. And again.

By the time Willie had emptied his balls of the last drop of juice, he continued to grip my head to steady his sagging knees. "Awesome," he sighed. "Totally awesome." Some seconds later he added, "Daniel? You can take your finger outa my butt now."

As I did, I allowed his slowly softening meat, which was glistening with spit, to slide outa my mouth. It bounced a few times, then just hung there in a lazy arc away from his nads. The urge to kiss it overcame me, so I pressed my lips to it and enjoyed the smell of my spit coupled with the warm, fresh smell of sex.

"You really like my snake, huh?"

"I like everything about you," I smiled as my hands reached up to his chest and played with his nipples. "But I guess it's kinda easier to focus on your dick. It's kinda mesmerizing. Jeez! You know something, Willie? Spencer was right. You do kinda get carried away. But that's cool. I do, too. And what you said about me having a fuckable face... I know what you mean. When I see my boner sliding in and outa Paul's face or my other bud's faces, it's like whoa! how fucking awesome is that! Even though it happens a lot, it's still kinda amazing. I don't think I'll ever get used to the sight of that. It's just as awesome every time."

"What are you doing?"

"Sniffing my finger."

"You better go wash your hands."

"Hey! Smells are interesting. Don't you ever...?" But Willie cut my question short before I'd had a chance to finish.

"Don't ask, Daniel. You can use the downstairs wash basin."

By the time I'd returned to the deck, Willie had placed two more Coronas on the table, and had put on his shorts and t. "Spencer should be home pretty soon... maybe with his folks or MM. So I owe you one."

"No prob. I can jack off later thinking about it."

"That good, huh?"

"You're pretty aggro, but I figure it's better than just laying there like some inflatable doll," I laughed. "What's Spencer like?"

"He can get pretty aggro, too, but I guess he's more sensitive than I am. He gives me the ol' Fritz Kreisler sometimes."

"The what? I didn't know Spencer was into kinky stuff."

"Fritz Kreisler was a composer... a violinist who wrote lush, romantic music in the early 1900s. Spencer's right into it. Actually, it's awesome to see him sitting at the big Steinway playing that music... almost like he's a different person."

"He is a different person. I've never met anyone like him. Actually, I've never met anyone like you, either. All that stuff you did at school. I still can't believe it, even though I know it's true. You must've been so screwed up back then."

"I was. And when you think about it, if I'd beaten up some dude other than Spencer, I'd probably still be a mess. I guess I was lucky to have picked on Spencer. He turned me around."

"And his dad. What sticks in my mind is what his dad said to Spencer at the time. "You could maybe make a friend, or have an enemy for the rest of your life." That's a pretty awesome thing for a dad to say to a son who'd been beaten to a fucking pulp."

"Spencer's dad is a very special man, Daniel. Very special. One day, Spencer might tell you about the time he and Marc came out to his folks about their relationship."

"You wanna tell me?"

"Nope. That's Spencer's story, and it's not my place to tell it. But I can tell you that Spencer's dad is more of a father to me than my dad could ever be. His mom's the same. The whole family's the same. Let's face it, they are my family."

"They always go to church?"

"Not every Sunday... but fairly regularly. It's a family tradition, and they're a close family. I don't think Spencer is all that religious, but he respects his folks' wishes."

"Jeez!" I said as I slammed my beer on the table and headed for the kitchen. "You've just reminded me! I'd better phone Pop to let him know I'm OK."

Spencer offered to drive me back to the Inter-Continental, and had invited Willie and MM along for the ride. I was wishing that I could get a chance to talk to MM. Sure, he was a helluva motor mouth, but only 'cause he was so totally enthusiastic about everything. Despite his never-ending chatter, he was very likable... even lovable. Yeah. I had to admit... lovable. And I could easily understand why Spencer was so fond of him. And not just Spencer. Willie was fond of him, too. MM was one lucky dude to have such cool friends as his big bros.

The concierge gave me a dark look and shook his head as I bladed through the main doors, then toward the elevator. "I'll go straight to my room," I grinned. "Promise!"

"So how's it going?" I asked as I flopped onto the padded, velvet easy chair opposite Pop.

The old dude folded his newspaper before saying, "The world's in a mess, as usual. No surprises. How's Spencer?"

"Fine. I'm learning a lot about him, and he's even more awesome than I thought. So's Willie. Willie's his friend. How's it going with the publisher dude?"

"I have an appointment with him tomorrow, but I suspect, despite our being old friends, that he'll want to tie me up in some legal straightjacket. I'm not so sure I wanna go for the contract thing. I'm used to doing things my own way. I like my freedom."

"But you could be rich, Pop! And famous!"

"I'm already rich and famous... to a point. I've got you as a friend, and I enjoy what I do for a living. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, I guess. It's just that some people are ambitious."

"That's their problem, not mine. Anyway, ambition is relative. Ambition is all about wanting to achieve something... and I already have," he chuckled. "Will you be seeing Spencer again?"

"He's invited us to his place for dinner."

"Us? Us is plural, Daniel. Who's us?"

"Yeah, I told him all about you. He wants to meet you. So does Willie."

"Meet me? What on earth did you tell him? Them? Anyway, the answer's no. I don't have anything in common with your friends, Daniel. I'd only be a wet blanket. Tell Spencer that I appreciate his offer, but that..."

"You can tell him yourself, Pop," I interrupted as I picked up the phone and began to punch in Spencer's number.

"Alright, alright!" Pop relented. "I'll go. What night?"

"Tonight. He's gonna pick us up at about 7."

"I hate meeting new people," the old dude grumbled as he headed for the bathroom. Then he paused as he took hold of the doorhandle, and turned to face me. "Especially when certain people have given certain other people the wrong impression of me!"

"It's cool, Pop! I didn't overdo it. I told them the truth."

"The truth?"

"That you were a grumpy, boring old fart."

As soon as the bathroom door slammed shut, I cracked up big time. Jeez, I could always depend on that crazy old guy to tickle my funny bone. Bone? Hmmm.

The bathroom door opened just long enough for me to see the horrified look on Pop's face before it slammed shut again. "Daniel?" came the muffled voice from the other side of the door. "Stop that!"

"It's cool, Pop. I'm just jacking off."

"Tell me when you're finished. And don't put that damn sticky stuff all over the carpet!"

Pop and I spent the afternoon wandering around town... Fisherman's Wharf, Hyde Street Pier, and Pier 39. There were almost as many boats and seagulls as people. Busy, busy, busy. But also relaxed. Everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves. Most were shopping, sightseeing, or eating at one of the dozens of restaurants or food-to-go places. Pop and I chose the latter. Two pieces of fried fish, two buckets of potato fries, tartare sauce, salt and pepper, wedges of lemon, and two sodas. Yum!

"This is a great town," I remarked as we ate our tasty meals on the wharf overlooking the sparkling expanse of the bay, with the huge span of the Golden Gate Bridge dominating the skyline to our left. "The whole world lives here. Check out the faces, Pop. People from everywhere!"

"Just goes to prove that people from different cultures really can get along."

"Yeah. So how come they get along here and not in other places?"

"Because they're no longer in those other places," Pop smiled as another fry disappeared between his lips. "They've left all that crazy business behind to start a new life. And it's not just a new life, Daniel, it's also a new attitude. San Francisco belongs to everybody, and everybody's free to be themselves."

"So how come the whole world can't be like that?"

"Because many people are blind to opportunities like those that are available in a place like this. They can't even imagine it. They see only what's in front of their noses, or what is dangled in front of their noses by those in control. Consider yourself very lucky to be an American citizen, Daniel."

"I was thinking about Marc and Bene, two of Spencer's friends. They're both in Israel, but on opposite sides. They could live here in SF if they wanted. So why don't they?"

"You'd have to ask them that, Daniel. But I suspect they're not using their own eyes to see what is there to be seen by people like you and me. They see what they are taught or trained to see."

"I don't think I understand what you mean, Pop."

"You would if your family and roots were in Israel. If they abandon Israel, they'd be abandoning their families. It's not that easy just to pull up stakes and move. Would you abandon your folks and traditions?"

"Guess not."

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