This story is dedicated to Liza Minnelli. I saw her on Larry King Live earlier this year and bought her fabulous re-mastered video of the Bob Fosse concert 'Liza with a Z.' Rhymes with G and gee did I have a similar performance in my apartment block with some guy looking for 3G. Actually, I'm 3E but it was so dark in my hallway that he confused numbers. I'm sure you all know the song 'Ring Them Bells.' If not go check out the dvd. It's great.

I'd just moved into the apartment actually and was the new boy in town. During the day, I was mighty busy being an advertising executive but at night I was lonesome as a polecat. I rented out a lot of videos and consumed a hell of a lot of margheritas in gay bars, and such like, but didn't really score. Suppose I've become a bit too picky in my old age, which is thirty-four by the way. Either that or I was too nervous. Started surfing the web but mostly came up with weirdos. One night I was so horny I decided to try the escort service. At least I'd get some kind of guarantee there even if it was a tad expensive and rather impersonal. I mean you look through their list of 'models' and profiles but you can't really be sure of what you're getting. Still that's all part of the excitement I suppose. Like an unopened Christmas present.

Anyway, nothing ventured nothing gained, I called the agency with my 'male order' as I didn't want to use my credit card number on the net. They were very polite and said Raimondo would be calling at 8.45. precisely that evening. Three hours to go. I showered and shaved and put on a silk shirt and slacks. I made sure both were easy to get out of in the heat of passion. Not too many buttons or bows. As I chose my Italian perfume carefully, I wondered what nationality Raimondo would turn out to be. For some reason all male escorts had Latin sounding names. All the better to seduce you with I suppose. I mean he might be just plain Brad from Nebraska but Marcello or Vincenzo or Raimondo lent a touch of continental class to the proceedings. Actually I rather liked the sultry sound of Raimondo. It fell trippingly from the tongue so to speak.

To my surprise, my bell rang at 7:55. Much earlier than scheduled. I opened the door and wow there he was. Rather blonder than I'd expected but beautiful as the sun, as they say in Italian. He was a walking, breathing ad for Men's Health six-packs. What first hit my eye was his whiter than white teeth and his prominent pecs. His teeth brightened the dark hallway as he opened his mouth to announce himself and his pecs beckoned to me like nothing else. They kind of jutted out. Know what I mean? I'd never seen anything like them. They reminded me of a promontory pointing out to sea waiting for high tide to come in and set its shores sexually awash with a sea of kisses. Teeth and pecs was as much as my freaked out mind could absorb in the six seconds flat it took me to drag him in by his shirt collar and take him into my arms. I mean it was lust at first sight. I crushed his body to the wall and ground my groin into him as I pressed my mouth to his astonished lips and French-kissed him. Another six sexy seconds passed as my tongue penetrated his hot moist mouth and I felt his dick harden and rise to meet mine. Then he pushed me away.

"What the hell do you think you're up to man?" he said in perfect English. "I'm straight."

This somewhat surprised me I must admit. His dick had told me otherwise and after all I was paying for his attentions. As this was my first paid trick I thought it was all part of the professional preliminaries. I ran my hand up his ab track and found my way to his prominent pecs. They were even harder than his dick and turned my knees to jelly. I told him to lighten up and let it happen. Told him he turned me on so much that I could take him to the skies. Make him feel things that a woman didn't even know about. In fact his nipples were already kissing my fingertips and his body was beginning to respond to the thrust of my hips.... and lips.

I can be very persuasive in my job. After all I am in advertising. Every time he tried to protest I covered his mouth with mine and tongue fucked his mouth. I knew he liked it because he stopped being so aggressive. Which is just as well as he'd arrived clutching a bottle of something and I sure didn't want it broken over my head. My hands were working overtime and I managed to drag down his zipper and manipulate my way in there. Once again he made a feeble protest but once again his dick told me differently. I changed tactics and put my hand over his mouth and my lips round his dick. He moaned. I wasn't sure if he was protesting about the way my fingers were working their way into his mouth to tantalize his tongue or because my lascivious lips were traumatizing his dick. Anyway, I was beginning to feel like a contortionist by now and stopped for a moment.

"If I take my hand off your mouth will you promise to be a good boy?" I said.

"Don't stop," was his answer.

Then I really went to work. I started on his balls. They were like hard plums but ripe for the picking. Soon I had him eating out of my hand although that's a bit of a mixed up metaphor as I was doing all of the eating. I licked my way to the tip of his dick and sipped the sweet juice which was beginning to spill out. He moaned again. A horny one this time. He even pulled my ears and tried to force his dick down my throat. But I wasn't having any. Now it was my turn to play hard to get. I ran his dick through my fingers until he was half-demented and slowly moved him round so I could get a look at his ass. That was my undoing. It was a perfect compliment to his pecs. Jutted out in much the same way and had me drooling like a dog even though it was me that had the bone.

Needless to say it didn't take me long to get my tongue between his ass cheeks. He vibrated like a humming top and my lips felt the static. Awesome was the only word to describe it. I know it's an overworked word nowadays but it's the only one that came to mind as I worked on his dick and stabbed his butt with my tongue. I'd promised to take him to the skies and was determined to put him in orbit. My tongue was tingling, his ass was yielding and my hand was working up a rhythm on his dick that I knew would soon have him rapping all over the room. In fact strange funky sounds were coming out of his mouth and his body was pulsating like the strings on a double bass.

By now I was longing to feel his touch on my skin and my dick in his mouth but as they say you can't have it both ways although I sure as hell wished such a thing was possible. I wondered if he'd let me fuck him. Wondered if I dared. I got his male pussy as wet as I could but was miles away from any lube so didn't know whether he'd be able to take the whole length of my prick. I'm pretty well endowed you see. Anyway I slowly rose like a fucking phoenix from my knees and slipped easily out of my slacks and shirt, grateful for my sexual foresight. For a moment I reverted to being a contortionist as I exchanged tongue with fingers and slithered up the back of him to whisper sensual somethings into his ear. One hand was on his dick, one hand was halfway up his ass, which was pretty tight by the way, and my tongue was busy telling him I was going to keep my promise.

"Yes, yes," was all he said. He really wasn't much of a conversationalist.

I slurped and slobbered in his ear, jerked his dick to distraction and was in him before he even knew what had hit him. Although he must have known it of course. His screams told me so. Not to mention the crash of the bottle on the floor. He'd been holding on to it all this time. Just like his virginity. For a moment I thought I'd gone too far and hesitated before taking the next plunge but once again he reiterated those now familiar words, "Don't stop." And I didn't.

I'd found the straight and narrow path and had no intention of falling by the wayside. No sir! Unfortunately my good intentions were short lived. I was so hyper-excited by now and his dick was so full to bursting point that we both erupted in another of those six fucking seconds. Precisely.

I turned him round again, got my hands on those perfect pecs, and gave him a celebratory kiss to mark his initiation. I'd already put my brand mark on his butt. Occupational hazard I suppose. Once an ad man always an ad man. He seemed grateful but flustered and climbed back into his clothes muttering he had to be going. He was late for another appointment. I looked at his crumpled clothes and thought of his crumpled dick and didn't much fancy the next guy's chances. Still the young are resilient and quick to recover and after all I'd taken him off the straight and narrow and pointed his dick in the right direction.

Always a man of few words he said, "See you," and slipped back into the dark hallway from whence he had cum. After I'd cleared up the mess on the floor -- from the broken bottle I mean -- I had a well deserved shower. The sex had been great and I decided to make another appointment with Mr. Straight and Narrow asap. Straight or not, I'd certainly straightened him out and that's the truth.

I was just drying myself when the door bell rang. Maybe he's come back for more I told myself, thoughts of my dick already in his mouth and him giving me the blow job of a lifetime and licking up the cums. I was so excited that he was back so soon I didn't even bother to put on a bathrobe although I did stop to glance at the bedside clock as I hurried to the door. It was 8:45 precisely.

I threw open the door only to find a great hunk of an Italian guy standing there. My mouth opened involuntarily. "Hi, I'm Raimondo," he said visibly surprised to see me standing before him in the buff. "Am I too early?" I didn't answer. Just stood aside to let him in. His hand brushed my dick as he passed. I was immediately pleased to meet him.

Later, as we lay fucking and sucking on my kingside bed I glanced at the clock again. It was 9.25. Precisely. Incredible how time flies but, at the same time, what you can pack into forty minutes. If you put your mind, body and asshole to it that is. As I felt his Italian hot rod shifting into fifth gear inside me, ready to rev up my engine again, I smiled contentedly and thought of the fabulous straight guy who had left no calling card. Somehow I knew he'd cum calling again even if, as I found out later, he had mistaken 3E for 3G. After all he may have got the wrong address but he certainly got the right number!

So thanks Liza for your prophetic song. And to think it was written, or at least sung, the year I was born. Just shows to go you doesn't it --- it's never too late, or too early, to 'Ring Them Bells.'