My office building was next to a residential area of DC and if I stepped outside, I sometimes saw faces I recognized from my private life. One noontime during work I went out to grab lunch to bring back to my desk and spotted a guy I recognized from the DC Eagle. Our eyes met as we walked past each other, and he saw me look back again as I walked into a store. When I came out a few minutes later, he was still standing there, looking my way. I went over to say hello, of course.
He introduced himself as Darryl and said he lived nearby, pointing at a high-rise right next to my office building. We chatted for a moment and before I went back to work, he gave me his apartment number and said to stop by.
At the end of a day in which my concentration was ruined (or enhanced, depending on your point of view), I shut down my computer and walked out and across the small alley from my building to his. Someone also entering let me into the lobby (tsk, security?) and I went up and knocked.
The first thing I noticed to my great amusement and some consternation was that Darryl’s apartment directly faced my boss’ office window. I stood in the middle of the room, feeling a little awkward about that, while Darryl chatted and took my coat. He showed me around his remarkable apartment, walking among the Greek columns, life-sized plaster casts of male torsos (his own?), lush black-and-white photographs, and huge vases of flowers everywhere. The purpose of gay men is to make the world a pretty place, and Darryl clearly was heeding the call.
But Darryl didn’t waste time, either. After a few minutes he closed the drapes, gave me a kiss, and began removing my clothes. I returned his kiss and began to open his clothes, until we were both naked and then lying together on his couch. Darryl had a lean body, with velvety skin and a gentle manner to match. He also added that he had company coming in an hour or so and unfortunately couldn’t spend the whole evening with me.
He turned out to be a creative and flattering lover, talking sexy, telling me I looked great, and speculating aloud about versatile things we could try. One of his more interesting ideas was tying my ankles up high on the wall and forcing me to cum all over myself. But for this time, he merely got me into a standing position over him so I could jerk off and splatter his chest.
His phone rang as I was getting dressed: his guest calling to say he was on his way, and I left.
The next week I went back again to play with Darryl, which was not merely sexy but exciting in its nearness to my work life.
We never did hang me up by my ankles, and Darryl and I didn’t get together a third time though I saw him occasionally at bars or parties. Years later I learned from a former Mr. MAL that Darryl had passed away. I didn’t find out from what, but I was sorry for someone of his intelligence and flair.
Epilogue: One day, not long after I played with Darryl, my boss froze during staff meeting, half-standing, a file folder in her hand, staring out the window.
“Oh, my goodness!” she said aloud. “A naked man just walked by over there.”
I was pretty sure I knew whom she meant.