Going Gay / Bruce – Chapter Eighteen

Winston’s words scared me a little. If he was going to depend on me to represent “good in the world,” then I was pretty goddamn sure I would disappoint him at some time or other.

Seeing the look on my face, he hastened to add, “Look, Bruce, I know you’re an ordinary person, just like everyone else, but there’s something in you – some kindness or concern for others, that I can spot a mile away – because it’s kind of rare. I’m not trying to lay a burden on you, just answer your question about what attracts me to you.”

I was stunned. No one had ever told me anything like this about myself, and I wasn’t sure how to react.

“You… you see something in me?” was all I could think of to say.

“I sure do. You have a way of treating everybody like you trust them to be their best.”

“You mean I’m naïve? That’s why dudes like Carl can walk all over me and lovers like David can just throw me away when they’re done with me?”

Buchanan looked shocked. “Hell, no. That’s not what I’m saying.” He looked down, thinking, then continued, “Shit, I’m saying this all wrong. What I mean is… I run into scumbags all day, every day. Some of them are sociopaths, psychopaths, and worse. They have no regard for humanity or anybody but themselves. And they usually hate themselves, too, come to think of it.”

He looked horrible, like a drowning man. I reached out and drew him into a hug and softly said, “Listen, this whole thing is new and completely different for me, too. You’re right – I’ve never been with a real man like you. I mean, my friends and lovers were nice people, but it’s like they were missing a whole dimension. They were only part alive, part real. You’re the real magilla!”

He laughed at that, and we both relaxed. Then Winston became serious again. “So, where do we go with this… this thing we have?”

I thought a moment. “Well, I guess that depends a lot on you. I mean, you’re a cop, a detective. I imagine your ass would be in deep shit if anybody knew you were hanging out with a pansy like me – a guy who likes guys.”

He nodded silently. I went on, “So, it looks like the question comes right back to you: how can we have a relationship, given that you’re who you are, and I’m who I am?”

He pondered that for a long time. Finally, he looked me in the eye and said, “Bruce, I don’t give a shit who knows about us, or what happens to me because of it. You’re special, and I only know I want to be in your life, and have you in mine. And if the department has a problem with that, well then, fuck them!”

We both laughed. Later, after we were dressed and had a cup of coffee on my balcony, Winston stood up to leave. Then, right there in full view of anybody who was looking, he pulled me into a hug and gave me a big wet kiss on the mouth.

When we broke the kiss, I looked at him in shock. “Are you sure that was a good idea? What if someone saw us?”

“I’m pretty sure they did, and that’s the first step toward living my real life.”

“But what do you think will happen?”

“I don’t fucking know.” He smiled, “but this is as good a time as any to help the Palo Alto P.D. move into the brave new world of gay cops!”

After he left, I sat out on the balcony again, worried that he might have just ended his career. I looked around everywhere, and I couldn’t see any sign of surveillance. Maybe they called it off when Carl got arrested.

The next day, Winston called me. “How ya doin, Bruce?”

“Uh… I’m OK, I guess. The question is – how are you doing?”

“So far, so good. It looks like nobody was looking last night. Or at least if they were, they haven’t told anyone.”

“Well, I’m kind of glad to hear that. I am worried that you might be taking a really big step, and I don’t want our… thing… to hurt you.”

“Don’t you worry about that, Bruce. I’m a big boy, and I can take whatever shit life throws at me.”

We talked for a little longer, and then Winston said he would like to come over around 10 PM.

“That’s kind of late, isn’t it? Don’t you need to get home and get some sleep?”

He chuckled. “I was kind of hoping I wouldn’t have to go home to get that sleep…”

I laughed and said, “Bring it on, Detective!”

True to his word, he knocked on my door at precisely 10 PM. He had exchanged his rumpled suit and cop shoes for shorts, a muscle shirt, and sandals. He had a six-pack of beer in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

Holding up the wine, he said, “I don’t know what you like, but this is probably way below your standard…”

I smiled widely. “It’s the thought that counts, and I can get just as wasted on Haute Brion as I can on Thunderbird!”

“Oat what? What the fuck you talkin about? They make wine outta goddamn oats?”

“Never mind, lover-boy. Just get your pretty ass in here, and we’ll see what caliber of wine connoisseur you really are!”

It turned out to be a rather good bottle of Chablis. I looked at Buchanan suspiciously. “Did you pick this out all by yourself?”

He hung his head in mock shame. “Not exactly. I was browsing the shelves, probably looking like a fish out of water, and this nice lady came over and asked if she could help me.”

“Nice lady, huh? You’re not going all straight on me, are you?”

“Fuck if I know. This might not be the time to tell you, but I’ve fucked a lot of women in my time.”

“And a lot of men?”

“Well, actually more men than women.”

“So this nice lady helped you pick out a bottle of wine for your boyfriend.”

“As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I told her!

“You’re shitting me! What did she say?” I asked in amazement.

“She pointed this one out and said that she and her girlfriend have always liked it!” He burst out laughing. “No shit. That’s the fucking truth!”

I joined him in laughing. “You know, Winston, the world might just be moving in a new and better direction. At least out here in California.”

He popped a can of beer and I retrieved a white wine glass and uncorked the Chablis. He took a sip of it and said, “not bad at all,” and I took a slug of his Coors. “Also not bad.”

It was a pleasant night, with a soft breeze that kept the mosquitos away, so we sat on the balcony in the dark, drinking in silence. Winston sighed, “You know, Bruce, this is really different for me. I can’t tell you the last time I just sat back and chilled, without keeping one eye peeled for perps and weirdos.”

I smiled, leaned over and kissed him lightly. He put down his beer and pulled me closer. I sat on his lap, facing him, and got serious about kissing him. I felt his cock harden under my balls.

“Hmm. You seem to be getting something going down there,” I said with a naughty grin.

“Could be. You want to do anything about it?”

“Why don’t you carry me inside and we’ll see.”

With that he put his arms under mine and stood up, holding me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he carried me into the apartment.

We only got as far as the hallway to the bedroom. He pressed my back against the wall and kissed me hard. I reached down and freed his hard cock from his shorts. Releasing my legs from their grip around his waist, I quickly shed my own shorts and lifted them back up to surround his middle.

Winston took a small step back, which allows his erection to spring up. I smiled and leaned back a little, supported in his powerful arms, and he slipped his dick into my waiting hole. I began to pull myself up and down, riding his massive prick, as he reciprocated by thrusting into and out of me.

It must have been a strange sight – a tall, muscular black man with his pants down around his ankles, holding a much smaller white guy up against the wall, driving his cock into his ass. We were both smiling and kissing from time to time.

After a while, I said, “aren’t your arms getting tired?”

“Fuck my arms, it’s my cock that’s having all the fun!”

I kissed him deeply and tried to bounce harder on his boner. He was starting to hit my G-spot, and I felt release approaching. I looked, and Winston had closed his eyes and was breathing rapidly. He must be getting close, too.

Suddenly, he pushed me downward on his dick and buried it as deep in my ass as he could. I felt a flood of hot liquid fill me, and that was all it took. I shot my load all over his muscle shirt.

After what seemed like an eternity, Winston opened his eyes and looked at me. We were both breathing normally again. His arms relaxed, but I was still firmly impaled on his still-hard cock. Adjusting his grip on me, he took a step back, then carried me down the hall and lovingly lowered me onto the bed, still inside me and still hard.

“I…” I started to say.

“Shh.” He replied, as he helped me lie flat and stretched out on top of me. I was amazed that his dick didn’t soften in the least.

He leaned down and kissed me, pulling my tongue into his mouth as he removed his arms from under my own and gently wrapped them around my head. He began to fuck me again, slowly at first, then with more power.

All I could think was that this man had shot a big load, stayed hard, and was now doing it all over again. In the back of my mind, I wondered if my asshole could possible take all this abuse, but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t stop him, even if he wanted to do it four more times!

He actually did it two more times, but with a break between numbers two and three. I also came twice, the second one in his mouth, after he exited me the third time and turned his attention on my pleasure.

After the marathon of fucking, we cuddled on the bed. Just as I was about to fall asleep, he said, “Bruce?”

“Yeh?” I muttered, half-awake.

“I hope it wasn’t too rough for you…”

I took a deep breath. “Well, I’ve never done this before, and I doubt I could do it every day… but it was the best fuckin sex I’ve ever had, and I expect you to top it the next time!”

“I don’t know about that, but I’ll give it my best.” We both laughed quietly. I cuddled up close to him and we both fell asleep.

The morning sex was a lot more conventional, and somehow my ass was able to take all of him two more times. Winston had told me that today was his day off, which is why he could come over so late and not bring a suit to put on for work in the morning.

We had a leisurely breakfast, naked of course, and I could barely focus on cooking bacon and eggs. Every time I looked over at him, I saw this gorgeous hunk of a man, muscular, sexy, kindly, gentle, loving, and powerful. And every time I saw his massive cock, six inches when soft and a fucking battering ram when hard, I got a feeling inside me that made me want to jump onto it and ride it the rest of the day!

But Winston had other plans. After we dressed, we got into his cherry-red convertible, put the top down, and headed down to Santa Cruz and then up the Coast Highway. We stopped for lunch outside Pescadero and then made our way over the mountains on the 84, having dinner in Mountain View and then completing the circuit back to Palo Alto.

The weather was spectacular, and both of us felt completely free. I had never been far from the campus with a lover. I realized that all my relationships had been hidden away, either in a gay enclave or behind closed curtains and locked doors. This was something new and liberating – to be a gay man out for a leisurely drive with his lover.

When we stopped for lunch and dinner, nobody looked at us strangely. It would have been easy to stare. After all, here was a massive black man with a much smaller and younger white dude, and they were obviously together, smiling and chuckling with each other, occasionally touching hands, and clearly oblivious to everyone around them.

I felt that I had crossed a line. I was now openly gay and loving it. My only concern was that Winston was also now openly gay. I hoped and prayed he wouldn’t get any blowback from his colleagues or department.