Tenacity by Callan Smith

A reader of my stories wrote me a very nice letter recently in which he referred -- amongst other things -- to my 'always available men.' I didn't quite know at first whether this was a criticism or a compliment. Anyway it set me thinking and I came to the conclusion that, from my past experience, men are indeed always available. Eventually. It's we who usually get ourselves tied up in knots and are afraid to make the first move. Or follow through.

I remember in school that the teacher used to talk about 'perseverance and tenacity.' I've just looked both words up. My dictionary defines perseverance as "continued steady effort" and cites the example: 'After months of disappointment his perseverance was finally rewarded.' Under tenacity it says: "keeping a firm hold on an object or course of action.'' I certainly believe in keeping a firm hold on the object of my affection. The firmer the better. Just like a dog with a bone, I hang on to a guy with a boner until I've sucked the very marrow out of him.

Osvaldo was a case in point. Here's how I met him.

The other day I saw this guy coming towards me carrying a package of fancy cakes from the local patisserie. I looked over my shoulder at him after he'd passed and was struck by the beautiful package of buns filling out his jeans. They were so stupendous that my mind went off on flights of fancy. Wow! Imagine having him at home with you. Your own personal pastry shop supplying you with unlimited cream and fuck-filled profiteroles. Wishful thinking, I thought. But it wasn't.

Have you ever noticed how you keep running into the same person, sometimes on the same day? Most of the time you don't do anything about it - especially if the individual doesn't really interest you - but on other occasions you would be wise to realise that fate has dealt you a promising hand and should do your best to follow suit and play it. That's how I felt when I met Osvaldo D'Onofrio. Even his name gave me the hots. I heard him mention it as he ordered 'The Kite Runner' in our local bookshop and I ran into him again at the Rent-a-video store when he was trying to find an erotic movie that had a long waiting list. It just so happened that I had my own personal copy and before I knew it I was inviting him home to see it. It was a real miserable, rainy afternoon and he obviously had nothing better to do so he said, "Why not."

I live on the top floor and it was only when he was climbing the flight of stairs from the elevator to my flat and I was literally faced with the tantalizing sight of his bounteous buns that I realized that fantasy was about to become reality. Our encounter was either going to turn into a buddy-buddy beer fest or I was actually going to get inside his pants.

It was nice and cosy in my apartment as I'd turned up the thermostat to compensate somewhat for the cold weather outside. Things were in a bit of a mess as I hadn't been expecting visitors but there was something safely masculine about the untidiness. Pristine precision would have spelt gay in capital letters. Not that I was probably fooling anyone. You just had to look at my choice of music or the books on my bookshelves. Still he seemed more interested in watching the movie than examining my life style.

I offered him a beer and he settled down in front of my mega monitor.

"Just give me a minute to get out of these wet things and we're all set." I said.

"Right on," he said. He had some very international expressions for an Italian.

"Do you want a dry sweater or something?" I added as an afterthought.

"It's pretty warm in here," he said. "I'll soon dry out."

The movie was a real turn on and I noticed he kept wriggling in his seat.

"I should be watching this with my girl-friend," he said.

"I'll lend it to you if you like," I said handing him another beer.

He didn't say anything but began to perspire. Whether from the movie, the beer or the heat in my apartment I couldn't immediately tell. As the movie increased in intensity -- and heat -- he began to strip off his outer layers, undo his shirt and loosen his pants. He gave me a side-long glance. I was comfortably clad in my favourite t-shirt and denims.

"Mind if I take some of this off?" he said.

"Be my guest," I said.

"Hope you didn't turn up the heat so I'd take off my clothes," he said only half jokingly.

"It never entered my mind," I said.

"I'm straight," he said.

"That," I said, "did enter my mind."

"Just as long as you know," he said.

The movie progressed and I think so did we although I made a point of sitting far away from him.

I gave him a few more beers and he eventually relaxed. Halfway through he movie I noticed he'd slipped his hand down the front of his trousers and I presumed he was keeping a grip on things so to speak. It really was hot stuff and so was he. Trouble was he was sitting on that part of his anatomy that interested me most. When it was all over he stood up and tucked his shirt into his pants. That's when I got a good glimpse of his buns and realized why I'd invited him there in the first place.

"Thanks a bunch," he said. "I must be getting along."

"You're welcome," I said handing him the video.

He didn't say anything. Just looked at me as if he was waiting for me to make a move or something.

"You said you wanted to see it with your girl-friend." I said.

"Yes, thanks," he said, obviously perplexed.

"You can bring it back when you've seen it and we can watch another one." I said pleasantly.

He hesitated a while then took it.

"Is anything wrong?" I asked him.

"No, not really," he said, then "You are gay aren't you?"

"Yes," I said. "Why do you ask?"

I knew I was playing a cat and mouse game with him but I'd decided to be tactical about our relationship and get him to make the first move if he was interested and he obviously was.

"No reason," he said. "Guess I expected you to jump on me or something."

"Do you jump on every girl you meet?" I asked him.

"Not really I suppose," he said, then smiled. "Just most of the time."

"Did you want me to jump on you?" I asked provocatively, sounding uncannily like Anne Bancroft in 'The Graduate.'

"Of course not," he said but I knew he was more than a little disappointed especially after the movie which must have given him quite a woody.

"Then you'll come back to watch another movie." I said.

"You bet," he said and I gave him my phone number.

After he'd gone I almost kicked myself. Almost. How could I let a juicy catch like that get away especially as he was so hot and ready for it. But a voice inside me told me I'd done the right thing.

"Keep 'em on a hook. Keep 'em dangling," a gay friend of mine had once said.

He turned up at my doorstep much sooner than expected. A few nights later in fact. My apartment was still fairly untidy but I was pristine clean as I'd just had a shower. It was around ten when he arrived. Without any warning. He was dripping wet and raging mad as he'd just had a row with his girl friend. Always a good sign I think. The weather was kicking up quite a storm when he stormed out of the house without a raincoat or anything to protect him. He really was a pitiful sight but oh so welcome in his transparent shirt and clinging trousers. He apologised for the late hour but I ushered him into the bathroom and insisted he had a hot shower. He didn't protest.

I laid out a short terry cloth robe and some whiter than white Dolce & Gabbana underwear I'd just bought. You can look it up on the net -- it's called 'Unabashed.' Couldn't wait to see him in it. And out of it.

I fixed him a whisky this time. Beer wasn't strong enough for the occasion. I also turned up the thermostat another notch or two and put on some appropriate music.

As I had imagined he looked a dream in the D&G underwear. In fact I began to have wet mental dreams just looking at him. He knew the effect he was having on me and flaunted it. Otherwise why would he have come. I asked if I could take some photos of him. He acquiesced.

Of course he had to go and spoil it all by saying "No full frontals" but I took no notice.

He shimmied down in the armchair and opened the robe a bit so I could see his pert nipples. I wondered if they were always like that or just excited at having my camera lens caress his body. Then to my surprise -- and joy -- he put a finger in his whisky and lubricated a nipple for me. I couldn't believe it. Whatever had happened to the prim and proper straight boy!

"Wow!" I said, and meant it.

Then he moved his hand down his six-pack and inserted the tips of his fingers under the elastic of his D&G's. That really got me going too although it was pretty basic stuff.

"Where did you learn all that?" I asked him.

"Just comes naturally," he smiled. "I've always wanted to be a model."

"Wait till I get these photos off to an agency and your wish will probably come true."

"Do you really think so?" he said, slipping his hand further into the underwear.

"I'll let you see them on the computer in a minute." I said.

"Great," he said, putting the other hand behind his head so I could see his juicy pits.

God, was he hot. Now I really could have jumped on him.

The lush undergrowth of his armpits combined with the mountain peaks of his pecs, together with the long 'river valley' between his navel and the ocean of navigable delights lying still unfathomed beneath his shorts, had my dick on the edge of explosion. It was all I could do to stop my hand from shaking and ruining the shots. Not to mention my shorts.

I saw a definite bulge forming under the thin cotton and it was difficult to distinguish his fingers from the meaty mound inside. It all seemed to merge into one. So did my senses.

"You're giving me a hard-on," is all he said.

I suppressed a gulp.

"Want me to do something about it?" I said, in spite of myself.

"Maybe later," he said. "Let's look at the photos first."

I didn't say anything more as he'd started to pull his D&Gs down with his thumbs so I could see the beginnings of his pubes. I was happy to see he didn't shave down there. Most guys do nowadays.

"Are you a professional photographer?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "Hadn't you noticed?"

"I'm beginning to," he said, fondling his dick and making it perform for my camera.

"What do you do?" I said to keep my concentration and the conversation going.

"I work in a travel agency," he said.

"Not for long," I said, suppressing another gulp as he seemed to be rolling down the whiter than white pants and finally granting me a full frontal.

Then he changed his mind, tucked himself in and went over to the computer. I joined him.

It didn't take me long to set things up and I was gratified to hear him give a sigh of appreciation. The photos really were great. Erotic and great.

"They'd make a great calendar," I said.

"Thanks," he said. "I look beautiful."

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," I said before I could bite my lip.

"I knew you had the hots for me the moment I met you," was all he said.

I chose not to answer that one but got him to lie on his stomach so I could finally take some shots of his barely covered buns. The D&Gs were hugging his butt. Something I badly wanted to do too. They'd dropped down a bit so I could see the beginning of his ass crack which was winking at me wickedly like a horny dimple in the middle of his comely cheeks. I imagined sliding my finger - or better still my dick - down there and making all his Christmases come at once.

As if he could read my mind he rolled over and I could see how super excited he was. His pre-cum was staining the immaculate briefs and I could clearly make out the appetizing shape of his dick.

"Eat my shorts," he said huskily.

I didn't bother to ask him where a so-called straight Italian had picked up such a gay expression. Neither did I stop to point out that in actual fact they were my shorts. I just made a head dive right on in there and was soon sipping from his leaking love pipe.

I drove him wild with my lips and my tongue tracing the lines of his dick through the transparent cotton until the combination of my saliva and his copious cum made the form of it so obvious that there didn't seem to be any point in keeping it under wraps any more.

He put up no resistance but surrendered his slip to the firm hold of my mouth as I dragged it down with my bare teeth.

"You're drooling," he said.

"So are you," I replied.

No further words were spoken for quite a while after that but I knew from his groans and the way he tore at my hair that I was taking him where no mouth had ever taken him before. And I was the lucky devourer of the best piece of prime beef I had ever tasted.

Naturally we both came in profusion and naturally he stayed the night. It was great sharing the same double bed together. It gets mighty lonesome in there sometimes. And listening to the rain lashing down outside as we 'lashed into' each other. He wanted to fuck me to show off his masculinity but somehow we didn't get round to it. We were both pretty drunk by then. Of course we did a lot of other things - some of which surprised me - and fell asleep satisfied. But he wouldn't let me inside his 'bakery.' Absolutely not.

Came the dawn and the rain was still pouring down incessantly. I made breakfast and we ate it naked. Silently I thanked my sexual stars for bringing us together. He was so beautiful. And he was mine. Well almost at any rate.

After breakfast we had a shower but instead of getting dressed he stood looking out the window at the rain, his palms pressed against the window pane, his head resting on his arms. The morning light was filtering through the picture window and bouncing off his butt. I picked up the camera and got some hot shots. The rain on the window pane and the shower drops still clinging to his bare butt made for one of those once in a lifetime portraits that seemed to epitomize everything I felt about him. I put the camera down and moved in closer to wrap my arms around him. He brought my hands down to meet his rising dick and ground his buns against my groin as if looking for warmth.

I jerked him off slowly while his firm ass went to work on my delirious dick. I closed my eyes and let him fuck me with his ass cheeks. He came all over the window. I came all over his butt.

"Sorry," I said and bent down to lick his platter clean.

It wasn't long before my tongue lost control of itself and I was almost touching his love button when he stopped me.

"I'm not quite ready for that," he said. But I knew he was.

It was just going to take a little work that's all.

Temporarily he went back to his girl-friend and life sucked for a while. But he rang me yesterday to say I'd 'ruined him for life.' It seems every time he came into contact with her clitoris he thought of my moist mouth.

I'm expecting him this evening. I've prepared the champagne and the appetizers and the little place is in pristine order. All ready for a celebration. You see if my teacher was right about perseverance and tenacity I'm going to win myself a pair of golden globes before the night is over. Yes, sir!

I'll keep you posted.