It’s 8 a.m. inside my boyfriend’s luxurious condominium. From his livingroom on the 10th floor of 880 North Lake Shore drive I have a spectacular view of Lake Michigan.

It’s a far cry from my neighborhood. The house in which I live is situated right at the sidewalk.

From behind Randal Todd drapes his arms around my naked body and plants a kiss on my neck.

“I’d like to take you for a ride. There are beautiful beaches along the lake.”

“Sounds good to me,” I replied. “I wish I had a camera.”

“Get dressed.”

I walked back into the bedroom where my bluejeans, Terra Cotta polo shirt and briefs lay in a heap at the foot of the bed. A minute later I came fully dressed to the dining table, a light-cherry piece. Randal was preparing breakfast. Coffee was brewing.

Now 40, Randal’s past experience is similar to that of other gay men. His failed marriage to Janette Longfellow had lasted barely 3 years, coming to an end by age 30.

I, on the other hand, had come out at 19 to Larry, my then best friend. He could not understand why I wasn’t hitting on the hot girls at college parties.

Late morning finds me and Randal standing on Esce Beach looking westward. The temperature is in the 80’s. Sailboats are on the water. Other beachgoers are sitting in folding chairs or lying on blankets. People are in the water.

“Janette got over being pissed off at me. It took her a while.”

“Are you guys friends?”

“As a matter of ankara travesti fact we are,” said Randal.

“I can tell you an unbelievable story.”

“I’m listening.”

“That summer after freshman year I stayed at my friend’s house for a week before going home. His dad kissed me.”

“That complicates a friendship.”

“Tell me about it.”

“That marriage came to an end.”

My silent nod conveyed agreement.

The incident with Larry’s father led to nothing with him. By sophomore year, however, another guy had come into my life.

“There was just that one kiss with my friend’s father. I broke it off. The following September I lived with Ken in the dorm. He’s my ex.”

“What happened to Larry?”

“We stayed friends. I never told him about the incident with his dad.”

“That’s probably a good thing you didn’t tell him.”

Randal pecked my lips then took my hand. We started a walk that would eventually go for perhaps a hundred yards before coming back to our blanket.

Nudist resorts held a certain allure for me those days. I had done my research online locating a few such places in Michigan. It would be fun to stay at one. Will Randy say “yes” to the idea or think it a crazy notion?

I would spend much of the next couple of days home by myself after work. I had made Facetime calls to Larry on both evenings talking about my relationship with my new beau. Yah I know. It does sound like girl talk but I don’t ankara travestileri care about that.

Larry brought up an unexpected topic. “My dad left my mom for a man.”

That doesn’t surprise me.

I asked, “how long ago.”

“A week into sophomore year,” said Larry.

“My man is 40.”

Does the fifteen year difference in our ages surprise you?

“How does one meet a 40 year old?”

“At a club. He’s a tax attorney.”

The following Friday evening finds Randal and me together again at the Lake Shore Drive condo. The night is warm though there is a mild breeze. The moon glows in the eastern sky casting a long highlight.

Though only a month old, the romance had reached another level of intimacy.

“I love masturbating. It’s a huge turn-on for me.”

“Really,” he exclaimed. “I thought only guys who aren’t getting laid did that.”

My lips stretched into a grin. I had no ready reply to his observation.

“I’ll bet you watch a lot of porn.”

I nodded.

“If you jerk off in front of me it’ll be our secret.”

“You can watch me go at it.”

“I will,” said Randal.

One day in a nudist resort would certainly make me jack off in my bed.

After taking a long leisurely walk under the moonlit sky we returned to the 10th floor.

Randal and I locked lips and held one another around the shoulders. The kiss lasted perhaps a minute before we separated.

My boyffriend would’ve travesti ankara been content to undress in the bedroom.

I stripped naked leaving my clothes on the floor by the coffee table. Slouched in the sofa, I made upward strokes on the organ until it pointed at my chin.

“This is better than any video.”

Bent on ejaculating, I pumped my hand rapidly. My wrist was tiring after a time so I slowed it for a few seconds then quickened it’s pace. Suddenly the white goop streamed a few inches leaving streaks on me.

I put my hand at my side. The organ went flaccid.

My lover had locked his eyes onto my lap. After my climax his head came up and he looked into my face.

A few seconds passed. Ignoring the goob on my body, I resumed the upward strokes causing another erection.

“I love this,” I said.

“Nothing’s better than a guy with a hard-on.”

“I can get one looking at you hon.”

Having said that, I started again to rub one out.

After goop streamed putting additional streaks on my body my boyfriend leaned into another open-mouthed kiss.

The kiss lasted but a few seconds then he led me by the hand to the bedroom. Seconds later I am lying on my back. One leg is elevated putting my foot inches above his hip. A rocking motion thrusts his organ into my orifice. My erect cock swings side to side.

Saturday morning finds me standing nude by the window admiring the view. Like the previous week my boyfriend stands behind me, this time putting a hand over my penis as he kisses my neck.

He asked, “what do you want to do today.”

The sky is gray. The weather threatening.

“Let’s go to the museum.”

He asked, “art or science.”

“Can we do both?”