The Man on the Bus by Claye Canterwall

I was never much for conversation, but he looked interesting, and we were the only two people in the back of the bus, so I said "hello", and asked him how he was. I know, very original, but it was quite a stretch for me. He was a nice looking guy, a little older than me. He had one of those faces that you feel like you can talk to, you know? No curtain pulled over the eyes saying, "Do not enter", so I took the chance.

"Fine, how are you?"

Great, now what? "Hello." and "How are you?" are easy. It's what comes after that that's difficult. Why did he have to be nice and answer? What do I say now, "What's a nice guy like you doing on a bus like this?" How about, "You're kind of cute. Want to come over to my place?"

"Okay."

That was it? "Okay."? The last of the great orators. Lincoln and Douglas, eat your hearts out. Oh, well, I had the "Journal of Architecture" with me. I could always become engrossed in one of the thrilling articles in there.

"This your normal bus?" Dear God, the guy was as feeble at conversation as I was. Together, we might each get another sentence off by the time I reached my stop. "I mean, I don't think I've seen you before."

"I'm not usually this late, but I had to work over tonight."

"Yeah." Good. Not too wordy. Succinct. I like that in a conversation."Architect, huh?" No, I just picked up the magazine to fight the boredom. Hey, he was trying, and he was doing a lot better than I was. Sarcasm was not in order. Besides, remember the cute factor.

"Design anything I might have seen?" You know, I probably should just stop here with a "no", but I'm not going to judge the guy on his first try. I'm gonna keep this going until it just rolls over and plays dead, which will be in about three, maybe four seconds.

"Afraid not. Haven't been an architect that long. I've been in on a lot of designs, and have a lot of great things that I've designed that haven't been built yet...way ahead of my time...but, no. I guess the answer is just a plain "no".

"Well, you look like an intelligent young guy. You're probably the Frank Lloyd Wright of the future."

"Dear God, I hope not." And what was this "young guy" thing? I was, at the most, three years younger than he was. I was not only beginning to regret this conversation, I was getting a little hot under the collar. I always did when someone did the Frank Lloyd Wright thing. I hated Frank Lloyd Wright.

"Guess, you don't like Frank Lloyd Wright." It showed.

"I just think he's over-rated, that's all."

"A lot of people don't share your opinion."

"And a lot of people do."

He turned and picked up the newspaper on the seat beside him and started reading the sports page. I guess he could tell he'd struck a nerve with me and that making small talk on the bus with a touchy architect just wasn't worth the effort. I picked up my magazine and got ready to read a hot little article on earth-friendly landscaping. It would be good for about two miles.

"You want to join me for dinner?"

"What?"

"There's a really good little restaurant up here at my stop. I haven't eaten, and I'd guess you haven't either. I hate to eat alone. You want to stop and eat? That is, unless you've got a family waiting, or something."

"No, no. No family. Well, you don't look dangerous, and I am hungry, and I was looking at grilled cheese and a glass of milk when I got home... yeah, it's a tough decision, but I'll do it. It's not Chinese, is it? I hate Chinese."

"Italian, and I guarantee you'll love it." It was a quick decision, but cute is cute, and lonely is lonely, and spending the evening with a grilled cheese and a glass of milk was not my idea of a great Friday night. I didn't want to seem cheap and easy, but, what the hell? Maybe I was. He probably wasn't even gay. Well, he was human, and he was living, and he seemed nice enough. Oh, and did I mention that he was cute?

The restaurant was Mama Gwen's. A bell went off in the back of my head. I had heard the name somewhere, but I didn't remember where. Probably read it in a magazine and remembered it because it was an unusual name. "Gwen" did not shout Italian to me. But her restaurant certainly was. It was quite nice inside with the murals and the wine bottles and all of the usual Italian stuff. The music was playing, too. I'm never crazy about ethnic music in ethnic restaurants, but this was very soft and nice, and, I guess, did set the mood. They knew him here, and called him by name... Mr. Kane. I liked the name... manly, with a little edge. I hoped his first name was Brad or Todd or Barry... something that would go nicely with Kane. I really did like Kane.

We sat down at a little table for two in the corner. It would have been romantic, except for the fact that we were two tired guys who just got off the bus from work. I let go a little bit, and decided to let it be a little romantic in my head. What did I have to lose? Brad or Todd or Barry was nice looking... dark like an Italian, the restaurant was nice, even the music was nice, and a little fantasy was not an awful thing. Gretchen would be our server. Gretchen? They weren't making this Italian fantasy thing any easier.

"Cute girl."

"Very." And she was... blonde, and tall and about as Italian as Brittany Spears. And he thought she was cute. Damn. Well, that didn't mean anything. I thought she was cute, too. The fantasy wasn't dead yet, not completely. It was then that the bus boy came up to fill our water glasses. This was much better. He was an Italian dream, dark, with beautiful big brown eyes, about eighteen, black hair, a beautiful smile. I decided to go for it. It was now or never.

"Cute boy."

"Very." And then he winked at me. Brad or Todd or Barry winked at me. My feet did a little dance under the table. Fantasy, full speed ahead!

"You know, here we are getting ready to eat together, and I don't even know your name." Here it came. I couldn't wait... Brad, Todd or Barry. How about Kirk... Kirk Kane.

"It's Winthrop, Winthrop Kane the third."

Dear God, Winthrop? What was I gonna call him, Winnie? No, I couldn't. I could never think of him as Winnie without adding "the Pooh". Fantasy shattered. Here I was at a wonderful Italian restaurant, about to share a romantic dinner with a cute guy, and his name was Winnie the Pooh.

"But most people call me by my middle name, Brad." Jackpot!!!

"Mine's Jamie. I use James at the office, but my friends call me Jamie."

"You're a good, Jamie. It fits you." Oh, yeah, and Brad fits you, too, Winnie.

I guess the small talk was over, because Brad picked up his menu and began to peruse the fare. I followed his lead, and with a bit of a shock. I didn't need to be worried about being cheap and easy anymore. I may have been easy, but I certainly wasn't cheap. They must have charged for pasta by the piece. I was glad I had my credit card with me, and hoped my spending limit had recently been increased.

"Oh, by the way, this is on me. You're doing me a very nice favor by eating with me this evening, and I appreciate it more than you know. Otherwise, it would have been a very boring Friday night."

It would be my pleasure, too, especially the part about his picking up the tab. It would be a very heavy tab, and I hoped he was up to it. On the other hand, the Tuscan steak with a side of Alfredo was beginning to look very good to me.

Dinner was great, and our conversation definitely picked up as the wine went down. Brad was the president of his own company, and rode the bus because it was more convenient than driving. Besides the bus went straight from his apartment to his office building. He also enjoyed people watching and said the best place to do that was on the bus. I was pleased that he had decided to watch me. The steak was wonderful.

After dinner, and Brad had given Gretchen a nice tip, and I had given the bus boy one last wistful glance, Brad invited me to his place for an after dinner drink. I feigned resistance, but he insisted that there was no sense in my taking the bus the rest of the way home, when he could drive me there just as easily from his place. Did I mention that I was easy? Turns out that he was a bit older than I thought, too. Brad was 44 to my 30. He didn't look it though. He looked at the most 38. I took back what I thought about the "young man" remark.

After walking through the lobby that looked like it could be part of the Taj Mahal, we stepped into an elevator that was done in early money. I have never seen an elevator like it. There were tufts of rich red velvet everywhere, with gold outlining each beautiful tuft. I would snip a little tuft on my way out and press it in my memory book.

All of the money allotted for decor must have been used for the lobby and the elevators, because as we stepped into the hall of the fourteenth floor, we were greeted by a starkness for which I was totally unprepared. The hallway was narrow and a bit gaunt. It was a soft blue in color, with a plain beige carpet running its full length. Not cheap, to be sure, but nothing like the opulent elevator in which we had just made our assent. Saving the hallway from complete design disgrace were lovely ivory colored lamps mounted high on the powder blue walls, bathing the hallway in a soft, soothing light. The carpet muffled the sound of our steps as we headed for the door at the far end of the hallway. There was no number on the door.

"Well, this is it." said Brad, as he held the door for me to enter.

Pooh Corner was never like this. This was the template on which all other bachelor pads were to be built. Rich brown leather upholstery, polished hard wood floors, huge windows all around for a wonderful view of the city, and the biggest stone fireplace I had ever seen. In front of the fireplace was what was left of what must have been one of the largest polar bears ever to have walked the earth. Although it was breathtaking, I did not approve of killing endangered animals for any reason, let alone to enhance fireplace decor. I made up my mind to mention it later. It might get me thrown out into the gaunt, yet somehow soothing, blue hallway, but I was not known for remaining quiet about environmental things. Still, the speech, no matter how important it might be to polar bears everywhere, could wait until after I'd had had at least one drink in an over-stuffed leather chair, while looking out over the beautiful lights of the city. Sigh.

"A little brandy, if you don't mind", I heard myself say. I guess I let my fantasy get out of hand. I was thinking about how nice it would be to have a drink, and that Brad would no doubt offer me one, but I had no intention of saying anything out loud.

"One brandy coming right up."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that out loud. I was just thinking how nice it would be to have a drink and look out at the city, when I heard a voice saying 'a little brandy', and it was mine.

"Don't worry about it. The drink was assumed with the invitation." It didn't take him long to deliver a beautiful snifter of brandy from the elegant bar at the back of the room.

"I'm going to slip into something a little more comfortable, if you don't mind."

"No, no, go right ahead." I had never heard that line actually spoken before, and wondered how long it would be before I had to put my hand to my cheek and say, "Why Mistuh Kayuhn Ah am not that kahnd of boy." Except I was beginning to think I just might be that 'kahnd of boy'. I also wondered just how comfortable he would be when next he appeared. But, there were other more important things at hand: my drink and my chair.

I sat down in one of the beautiful chairs and let my body slowly sink down into it's wonderful softness. It seemed to reach out to surround me with wonderful elegance. The phrase 'rich Corinthian leather' kept running through my mind. Yes, I was low class now, but I could be taught. I could learn to live like this. I laid my head back and closed my eyes as I sipped my brandy. The lights would still be there when I opened them again.

When Brad reappeared, I couldn't have been more disappointed. I had expected something in a deep, rich silk. He was "more comfortable" in jeans and a t-shirt. It was a beautiful t-shirt, to be sure. It was teal and brought out the dark beauty of his eyes. But, it was a t-shirt, nonetheless, and a $1000 t-shirt was still a t-shirt.

"Why don't you get out of your coat and tie. I feel strange sitting here dressed like this, with you still dressed for a day at the office."

I did just that and felt much more relaxed. I wanted to relax myself all the way down to my boxers, but thought that just might give the wrong impression. Brad got up and fixed himself a drink. I couldn't tell what it was, but it was clear, so I judged it to be gin or vodka. There was a lime in it, so I was going for a gin and tonic. Strange choice. I had predicted cognac from someone so sophisticated and "comfortable". He came over and sat down in the chair beside me and we silently enjoyed the view together.

"I feel so fortunate and a little guilty for all of this," he said.

"No need, someone has to have it. Besides, you earned it, you deserve it."

"Well, not really, you see my father..."

"Winthrop Kane. Kane Enterprises. You're that Winthrop Kane. Holy shit!" I felt immediately embarrassed for the 'holy shit', and it must have shown.

"No need to feel embarrassed. It is a 'holy shit' fortune that I've inherited. I'm not totally comfortable with it. To tell you the truth, I didn't really want it, but I got it, and a lot of people depend on what I do with it for their livings, so I put away my carefree lifestyle and went to work. Can't say I enjoy it completely, but it does have it's little perks."

"Yeah, this is a beautiful little perk, all right."

"The real perk is that it allows me to meet people like you."

Whoa! Here it was. Time for: "Now, Mistuh Kayun, ya'll cain't mean thayut, why we've only just mayet." I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing.

"I didn't mean that the way it sounded. What I meant was, that it's great to have this place to bring someone like you to, to share it with for an evening. I didn't mean to imply... although I'm sure it certainly sounded like... Believe me, I have no designs on you, and asked you here only because I liked you, and thought it would be pleasant to spend the evening with you. I could tell you weren't that k..." and then he broke and laughed, with a wonderfully musical laugh.

"That kind of boy? I never meant to imply that I wasn't that kind of boy. I just didn't want you to think I could be bought with a snifter of brandy and a beautiful apartment, or that I could fall for a beautiful stranger on a city bus who bought me a wonderful dinner, or..."

Brad had leaned over and gently put his finger to my lips. Then he gave me one of the softest, most delicious kisses I had ever had. Vodka. I had been wrong. It didn't mix well with brandy, but I could deal with it, besides he was kissing me again. Who had time to deal with it? This one went on forever, or at least it seemed forever. Then he sat up, looked at me and said in one of the sexiest voices I have ever heard: "You are one beautiful man."

It made my dick jump.

Now, I may border on cute, but I am certainly not beautiful. I almost looked around the room to see if there was someone else there I hadn't seen. But, if he thought I was beautiful, there would be no argument coming from me. He leaned in to kiss me again, or so I thought, but this time he began to unbutton my shirt. There would be no resistance from the beautiful Jamie. I just laid my head back and enjoyed every button. He may have bought me with dinner and a brandy, but he could have had me for a Coke.

When he had my shirt off, and had kissed and licked me at least twice on each nipple, causing me to both giggle and moan (I giggled first, and regretted it immediately, but a lick on the nipple always makes me giggle). Then, he pulled his own shirt over his head, revealing one delicious chest. (I'll have that with the whipped cream topping. Hold the nuts, I'll have them later.) It was just the right amount of hairy... not too much... not too little. Mmmmmmm. Couldn't wait to get there. He took my hand, kissed it tenderly (Oh, Rhayut, Rhayut, please, not on the hand, Ah may faint.), and started to lead me towards the giant polar bear in front of the fireplace.

I stopped cold, and my hard dick dropped like someone had stuck a pin in it.

"Brad, I don't think I can... not on the bear."

"It's a fake. No real polar bear could possibly cost as much as that thing did."

"Oh... We're not there yet?"

Brad laughed and led me to the rug, where he gently laid me down. I felt like I was in some unbelievably romantic movie, laying in the middle of a big white cloud. I could tell he was going to take it nice and slow. I didn't know if I could do nice and slow. Some very important parts of me wanted him right now. Oh god that man was beautiful.

He stood up and started to remove his jeans. He was going to do a romantic strip tease for me! I grabbed the tip of my dick and squeezed it has hard as I could squeeze. It was my only chance. Otherwise I would have to borrow a pair of pants and go home in disgrace. I had never seen such a beautiful body, well at least not up close and personal. When he lowered his jeans past his briefs (with a bit of difficulty, I might add) and down his very hairy muscular legs, I had to squeeze so hard that I thought the end of my dick would pop off.

I couldn't help myself. I reached up to feel his hardened penis through his underwear. He flinched... then he smiled. There was already a wet spot at the tip, and I ran my finger around it, playing with the moist head. That was it for him. Without warning, he pulled off his briefs, threw them across the room, and dove on to me, pushing his tongue greedily into my mouth. I answered by doing the same to his, and thrusting my hardened penis up into his body, moaning loudly as I did so.

In one quick motion he pulled off the rest of my clothing, taking my dick in his mouth and pulling it in quickly all the way down to my balls. No groaning now, just a loud "Oh god!" at the top of my voice. I may have even screamed as I felt my dick being sucked by his hot mouth, taking me all the way down his throat. He continued to moan and suck until I was sure I would blow my load before I had a chance to return the favor. I begged him to stop. He did, doing so with another kiss, the tenderness gone, this one almost angry with passion. I tasted myself on his lips.

We stopped, breathing heavily, to catch our breath. Then, I cupped his head gently in my hands, tenderly pushing his body back down into the beautiful whiteness. At last, it was my turn.

This would not be hurried. Who knew when I would have a chance like this again. First I took some time just to enjoy his beauty. His eyes were closed, content to wait for what I might have in store for him... a smile on his face. I kissed him, and then allowed my hands to softly explore every inch of his beautiful body, and I do mean every inch. His body, so wonderfully hard and muscled, was at the same time beautifully soft and vulnerable. It was then that I kissed his penis lightly on its tip. Lord, it was big. I knew it would be nearly impossible to get my mouth around it, so I would move very slowly. First, I took in just the tip. I loved the taste of a dick. Each one was different somehow. This one was sweet and he smelled wonderfully clean, the smell of the body wash he must have used in the morning. I enjoyed the tip for a long time. He was moaning, so I knew he approved of what I was doing. Then I started my slow descent to heaven, expanding my mouth as I went. He began to writhe slightly enhancing my experience as well as his own. The smell changed from wonderfully clean to the sexy, musky smell I loved so much. Again, I felt myself ready to burst, and made myself concentrate on his pleasure and try to forget my own. He began to thrust slowly in and out of my mouth, just slightly, as though he knew that his enormous size would be difficult for me to handle. We relaxed into a comfortable rhythm has he gently cupped the back of my head in his hands. Finally, he could last no longer, and I felt him tighten, ready to spew his load. He tried to withdraw from my mouth, but I gripped him tightly to let him know that I wanted his hot cum inside and down my throat. He understood. When he came, it wasn't violently, but gently and with wonderful soft moans, each thrust, each ejection of wonderful hot liquid swallowed eagerly and hungrily. I kept his now softening penis in my mouth until it had completely lost its hardness, enjoying it almost as much soft as I had before, when it was hard.

Now, he gently lifted my head, and kissed me once again on the lips. He seemed to relish the taste of his own semen that lingered there, and looked at me as he tasted it, as if we now shared some special secret that no one else could ever know. Then he stood up, took both my hands in his own and lifted me to my feet. These were strong, powerful hands and something deep inside of me responded lustfully to the raw sexuality of their power. He led me across the room to the windows overlooking the city, and positioned me there. He left me there for a moment, as I stood entranced by the beautiful lights. When he returned, he came up softly behind me, pressing his naked body into mine. I laid my head back on his strong, warm shoulder, and he put his arms around me, rubbing his penis against me as he did so. We both moaned softly. He had a drink in his hand, brandy, and he lifted it to my lips. I sipped it, drinking in its wonderful aroma, even as I had his own only minutes ago. I preferred his. We stood there for several minutes, enjoying the view. He would kiss me on the back of my neck or nuzzle my ear, sending wonderful chills through my body.

Then, he took the brandy from my hands, and set it down on a nearby table. His hand brushed my ass cheek and his lips kissed my shoulder as he walked around to kneel in front of me. There was some unfinished business to be taken care of. I was no longer filled with the hungry lust I had felt earlier. There was still lust, to be sure, but now it mingled with a different emotion, softer, more loving. He seemed to feel it, too, as he smiled up at me with soft eyes that were oh, so deep. He pulled my now-soft penis into his mouth and began to do wonderful things to it with his tongue, as he cupped my ass cheeks in his hands, massaging them gently. My world seemed to change into a hazy wonderland as my penis began to respond to the warmth of his mouth, growing full and hard. In what seemed now to be a completely different time and space, I began moving in and out of his wonderful mouth, as the lights of the city seemed to somehow move into the room, surrounding us with their beauty. He was encouraging me with his strong hands into a faster rhythm, and I began to think I might pass out, as the sensations grew stronger and stronger. I was no longer earth bound, but flying in some beautiful fantasy of sex and light. Faster and faster we went until I felt what I knew would be the most amazing orgasm of my life begin to build in my genitals. I knew I would be cumming soon and tried to let him know by tightening my grip on his shoulders. He knew, but he was in this one all the way.

He not only did not release his grip, but tightened it encouraging me to move ever faster in and out of his willing mouth, his lips lusting greedily after every inch of my engorged organ. It was then that I felt a low moan begin at the back of my throat, growing louder and louder as my orgasm came closer and closer.

At last I could wait no longer. My body stiffened and I heard a sound come out of me like none I had ever heard before, as every part of my body erupted in orgasm, and I emptied what seemed like everything inside me down my lover's throat. He drank it in hungrily, and did not stop sucking until every drop of my wonderful orgasm had been sucked from my now softening penis.

I collapsed into his arms.

He gently lowered me to the floor, kissing my forehead as he did so, and then brought his body close to mine to keep me warm. As I pressed my body into his, he put his arm across my chest, whispering in my ear: "Thank-you. That was beautiful". The lights of the city were twinkling beneath us, and his breathing was steady, soft and soothing, as we drifted off to sleep.