Love in the Days of Covid 19, Part 2

April 2020 This Story is completely true, though some of the dialogue is from my recollection and might be paraphrased. After watching Robin recede into the distance after running home with me, I pulled my key from my pocket and let myself into my building. Once inside the stairwell, I let out a loud “Woohoo”, and bounded up the stairs, 2 at a time, to my 4th floor condo. Once inside, I took off the shell Robin had leant me, and idly put my hand under my singlet to give my tummy a rub. I smiled to feel some leftover cum residue still encrusted. I turned on my work laptop (which I never use for personal stuff). It was coming up 9:00; “Just in time”, thought I. Then I looked at my emails and discovered that the 9:00 conference call about one of my projects had been cancelled, and I had nothing in my calendar until the 11:00 “all hands” with our CEO in LA. “Fuck it,” I said aloud and donned the shell and went back outside to put in another 5 or 6 kilometres under the morning sunshine. As I ran, wonderful images of Robin were going around in my head: him with his big grin gyrating to the music, occasionally stroking his rock-hard, blue-veined 8 inches, and later facing me across the coffee table, both of us spread-eagled, him stroking hard and tweaking his nipples while his pink balls bobbled, and me in ecstasy. After running about 4 kilometres, I returned to the present, and realized my skimpy shorts were tenting. I did not particularly care whether anyone noticed; an erection is only human, right? Like many runners planning to go a long-distance, I often take no water along and instead plan a route that hits known public water fountains in parks. Are there others like me, however, who also plan routes around known locations where a quick wank can be discreetly had, just in case the urge comes on (so to speak)? I ran quickly toward a park with a copse of trees and shrubs that I had used before and I was relieved to see no one about. I waded about 4 metres through the undergrowth to a small clearing I knew of. As is often the case, a few used condoms were strewn about, showing that not only masturbation goes on in those shrubs! I undid the zipper of the shell, pulled the front of my singlet up behind my head, and lowered my shorts around my ankles. My fully engorged cock was already dripping precum that I was happy to use as lube. I spent about 10 minutes jacking in the dappled sunlight, while rubbing my abdomen and ass, tweaking my nipples, and thrusting my hips while thinking of my previous evening and morning with Robin… his smile, his voice, his beautiful bum, the first time we ejaculated together, onto opposite sides of the door glass and licked our cum across the barrier while seeming to kiss…. I felt the sexual flush on my body intensify, my breathing heavy, and the powerful tension building in my lower abdomen. When I erupted, the pulsing from behind my balls and into my cock sent gushes onto the leaves of the shrubs, while my entire body shook uncontrollably. I know my face had been contorted as if in agony as I screamed aloud, “Robin! Arrrgggghhhh!” After the pumping of my ejaculation muscles slowed, and squeezing the last drops from my cock, I reassembled my clothes, and made sure there were no leaves on my shorts (though there were some errant cum drops that I rather liked the look of). I was only about 2 kilometres from home, as my route had circled back, and I decided to walk the rest of the way home. My emotions were all over the place. For several weeks I had been sleeping poorly and had had a vague feeling of apprehension, as if I were back in school at exam time. News from my company had been bad: the USA-based architecture and engineering firm has offices all over the world with about 60,000 employees, and many of the staff had been laid off or temporarily furloughed. We had learnt from an “all hands” meeting the previous week that 4 employees had passed away from Covid-19, and that many others had lost close family members; we were not informed who they were or where they worked, leaving me wondering whether I had worked on projects with any of them. Now, having met Robin, I was feeling my tension dissipate and be replaced by joy and passion. True passion, the passion felt by an adult man, who is usually a bit cynical and cocky, when discovering something beyond his control and that he hadn’t the capacity to feel when younger. I felt happier than I had in a very long time, and walked jauntily, humming random music, and deciding on my dinner outfit. I think that was the first time in my life I was truly and resolutely glad to be a man who loves other men. Back in my condo at around 10:40, I checked my phone, and found a text from a number I did not know. I opened it, and found Robin had let me know his number, and wondered when we could speak. I responded with a couple of heart emojis and asked him to call at 12:00 after my online meeting. I stripped off and took a nice shower, my cock already getting a bit turgid again, and decided to stay naked during the meeting. Fortunately, the meeting did not reveal any new bad news and was aimed more at business development and client relations as we move into an unknown future. I listened to the meeting with one ear while preparing an evening snack for Robin and me. Right at noon, my phone vibrated, and I quickly opened the call. “Hi honey,” I said (was that really me? I had known Robin less than 24 hours…), and Robin chuckled and said, “Hi sweetie pie”. We both giggled. He asked with a feigned pout in his voice where I had been when he first texted, and I told him what I had been up to. He told me he had jerked off, thinking of me, just before sending the text, but promised to save himself for me for the rest of the day. I made the reciprocal promise. When he told me he was preparing dinner for 6:00, I asked what I could bring to help out. He said there was no need, but I could bring some red wine if I wanted. I told him I would also bring dessert, and an evening snack. We spoke a bit more, then I told him I should try to get some work done in the afternoon. Remaining starkers, I managed to immerse myself in work for about 4 hours, doing quality control checks on some bridge specs that had been prepared by a junior colleague. Overall, he had done an ok job, but there were some notational errors he should have caught. I would forgive him, as he is cute as a button! Then at around 4:30 I began to don the outfit I had previously decided to wear: sexy red undies, light beige khaki pants, fairly tight legged and ass enhancing, a dark green crewneck pullover, by Italian label Zegna, of a silk-cotton blend that draped beautifully over my chest and displayed my clavicles and adam’s apple, and over it a tan suede bomber jacket. Onto my bare feet I slipped new, shiny tan penny loafers, complete with shiny pennies for luck. I noticed I was shaking a little when I examined the result in the full-length mirror of my closet doors, and smiled at myself. “Nathan,” said the voice in my head, “Settle down, Robin is… well… I take that back, he is worth being nervous about!” Once ready, I loaded up a cookie tin, bagged it, and walked the 5 flights down to my car in the underground garage. I drive a second-hand, dark-blue Toyota Prius 5-door, complete with solar panels on the roof. I love my car, despite the geeky image of that model. (I once drove from Vancouver to Jasper, Alberta, on less than a tank of gas.) I stopped off at three places along Commercial Drive, first a small florist I like, then the liquor store, and finally Fratelli Bakery, a venerable Italian institution. With the purchased treasures in the trunk, I headed to Robin’s house. I arrived about 10 minutes early, intending to wait in my car until the appointed time, but as I parked along the curb across the street I saw Robin sitting on his front steps. He did not know my car, and paid no attention until I got out and gave him a wave. He stood and watched with a big smile while I retrieved the bags from the trunk. As I approached him along the front walk, I said, “Waiting for Carlos?”, to which he chucked, “Who else?” Then he remarked on my car and told me he was glad to learn I was ecologically conscious – he had been expecting a Boxster or other hi-test vehicle. I responded, “W’ll save the hi-test in the cookie tin until later!” and he raised an eyebrow. “You were full of surprises yesterday, so I brought some of my own along for you today!” I wanted to give him a huge hug, and I am sure he felt the same way. Robin led me around back as I admired his bum as he swaggered subtly 2 metres ahead in his tight, 501s that had naturally faded to match the contours of his long legs, and his shapely neck and blond head rising from his crisply ironed, collarless, untucked, white button-front shirt. I felt my cock twitching. As we entered through the sliding doors into the family room where we had derived so much enjoyment the day before, I exclaimed, “Wow, something spells fantastic, Robin!” Classic jazz music was playing quietly. The covers indeed remained on the couches, and he had set up a little antique rosewood drop-leaf table for two just inside, and perpendicular to, the doors. The table, roughly 4-feet by 6-feet, was covered with a while lace cloth, and Robin had placed settings of beautiful hand-made dinnerware (made by his aunt, it turned out), sterling silver cutlery, and Waterford crystal glassware at the long ends of the table, so we could maintain our distancing, and two candlesticks in the centre. Geez, all this was for me. For Us. I handed him the flowers, and the Fratelli box. I told him the content of the box was for dessert, and that it should go in the ‘fridge for now. Robin was effusive with his thanks and disappeared into the rest of the house for a couple of minutes. He returned with the bouquet of spring blooms carefully arranged in a beautiful arts-nouveau patterned art-glass vase, which he placed on the table. “Please turn around, Nathan, I want to see your outfit!” As I did so, he said, “Wow, I have never seen you in regular clothes before, you look quite fetching!” I grinned and told him that he looked very handsome himself (per tradition, he had left the bottom button of his 501s undone), and that he could fetch me any time, then took off my shoes and bomber jacket. “Stop stripping there,” Robin said, “We will save the best for later!” I asked whether he had been naked all day like me, and he giggled, “Yep, as usual! I was able to get a bit of work done at my desk while things were cooking, and I like the freedom of air on my body.” Then he announced, in a posh Jeeves accent, “Dinner will be served in half an hour, sir; may I bring sir an aperitif?” I responded in my best Cockney, “You betcha, my good man!” Robin went to the kitchen, from where I heard some clinking of glass and ice before he returned with a pair of highball glasses, containing a brick red concoction with celery sticks. I let out a gasp and, taking a sip, I said, “Wow, I love bloody ceasars! And this is perfect! Just the right balance of spices! What brand of vodka do you use?” “Finlandia,” he said, “I would never use Russian vodka… the Russian crackdown on the LGTTQ+ community has been deplorable!” That remark led us into a discussion of other boycotts and our political and environmental views that continued much through dinner. It was amazing to find out how similar were our somewhat lefty worldviews, and it was also very refreshing to discuss things other than our sexuality with an attractive man for two hours! Robin has quite a mature and deep (and handsome) head upon his shapely shoulders! After quickly guzzling his ceasar, Robin said he needed to quickly prepare a side dish and plate our dinners. As I heard distant sizzling, I took that opportunity to remove the red wine I had brought from its bag. It was one of my favourites – Cabernet Franc from the Tinhorn Creek winery in the Okanagan Valley. Robin returned with a meal I told him looked absolutely scrumptious: braised lamb shoulder, with garlic mashed potatoes, sliced carrots with ginger root and honey, and beautifully stir-fried baby bok choy. After placing down our plates, Robin looked at the wine and said, “Wow, Nathan, that is wonderful, I have never tried this one! Please do the honours!” Luckily he had already placed a corkscrew on the table. I uncorked the bottle, poured, and we toasted. I told Robin that I was totally overwhelmed by the effort he had gone to and asked him how he knew lamb was my favourite meat. “You told me yesterday… we talked about Greek restaurants… I was paying close attention.” Then he lit the candles on the table. I told Robin, meaning it, that I have never had any better lamb, totally melt-in-your-mouth. I knew this dinner would always remain in my memory. Once we finished our main courses, and the wine, Robin said he was ready to try the dessert I had brought. He took our plates to the kitchen, and in a short while I heard him shout out, “Oh Wow”. I took the opportunity to place another bottle on the table, a Fonseco port. Robin returned with a platter holding the cake from Fratelli; it was lemon and whipped cream. I told him I had chosen lemon to match his hair. He asked, playfully, “And the cream? What does that remind you of?” Then he noticed the second bottle and looked at me quizzically. “A digestif to accompany dessert,” said I. As we ate the cake, laughed together at the cum-like gobs of cream getting onto our faces, and savoured the sweet wine, the music caught my attention. “Ella?” “You’re right, you mentioned yesterday that you like her.” Wow, he had been paying attention! When we had finished our first helpings of the cake, I asked Robin to turn the volume up a bit. The First Lady of Song was singing the beautiful “All the Things You Are” by Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II. The lyrics are among the most romantic ever. I had anticipated the words, and totally lost it when Ella sang “Some day my happy arms will hold you, and some day I’ll know that moment divine, when all the things you are, are mine.” Crazy Nathan, usually cocky and self-contained, started to sob, first my shoulders shaking, then a flood of tears. I told Robin that the thing I looked forward to most after we no longer needed to isolate was just to hold each other feeling the warmth of our bodies, and to listen to his breathing as we fall asleep, entwined together. Robin said, also tearing, “That’s what I also long for, Nathan… I can’t believe…” Then he began to sob also. After a minute or so, we looked into each others’ eyes and smiled. Geez, talk about schmaltzy! After Ella switched to some more upbeat songs in her signature scat style, Robin cut us each another slice of cake, and I refilled our port glasses. We spoke of our family background while eating. Robin was born in Vancouver, and his parents were both Canadian-born, but his maternal grandparents were Danish, and “Da’s” parents were Irish; it was the latter whom his parents were visiting in Victoria. “Accounts for your blond hair and green eyes, for sure!” I told him how the families of both my father and mother were both from Hong Kong, and came to Canada in the late 1980s They knew 1997 was to be the year when the thriving city would fall under tyrannical rule with the stroke of a pen. I, my brother, and my cousins had all been born in Vancouver. He asked me my surname, and I told him it is one of the most common Chinese names. He said, “hmmm… lemme guess… Chang? Wong?” I said, “Got it in two, pretty good!” He told me I would never guess his surname and, when he told me, he was right, though it is probably a name fairly common in Ireland. When we were finished our second slices of cake, Robin cleared the table, and I told him I wished I could help with the cleanup. Robin said there were not many dishes that could not go in the dishwasher, and that he habitually washes pots and pans as the meal preparation progresses. I carefully carried the candles to the coffee table, then returned for our port glasses, the bottle, and the cookie tin, and switched on the fireplace. A silk kimono lay folded on an arm of each chair in case we wanted them later, and I noticed Robin’s laptop remained on the table from the previous evening. Robin had previously dimmed the room lighting to a soft, romantic glow, and I reflected on how lucky I was to have found him. Robin returned to the family room about 10 minutes later, just as the CD changer revolved to something other than jazz; I recognized the hypnotic voice and rhythm of Enya (no doubt his Da’s music). Wordlessly, Robin stood 2 metres from me across the coffee table and, as we stared into each others’ eyes, began slowly to undo his shirt buttons while swaying to the sensual music, with a sort of seductive, alluring expression on his face I had not previously seen. He had grown a faint, rakish, five-o’clock shadow. Already in the same headspace, I stood and drew off my pullover and began to rub my torso while watching Robin reach the final shirt button and rub his own body. As he slowly removed his shirt, his pink nipples and the alabaster skin of his pecs, solar plexus, abs, and hip bones was highlighted in the soft light, and his treasure trail invited me. I could see his sexual flush moving downward from his neck. He then slowly undid the buttons of his 501s, gradually revealing his dark blond pubic hair, and lack of underwear. Once his jeans were fully undone and had started to drop, Robin turned so his bum faced me, then let them drop fully to the floor and he stepped out of them. He turned back around, and his beautiful, fully erect blue-veined and pink-headed penis came into my view. He linked his fingers behind his head, and I could see the contours of his ribcage and concave tummy. Also swaying to the music, I did the same thing, first turning to reveal my bum, then back to show him my penis in full flourish. I could feel that my sexual flush had reddened my face, neck, and upper chest, and I grabbed my cock and pulled at my ball sack. Robin also began to stroke, and we both danced and jacked wordlessly, tweaking our own nipples, and our faces revealed how we were slowly building to ecstasy as we watched each other across the coffee table. Our desires had been building throughout dinner, and now begged to be released. Reading me perfectly as my hip movements, deep sighing, clenched facial muscles, and increasingly sweaty brow signalled my immanent release, Robin made an almost imperceptible motion of his beautiful green eyes toward the sliding doors. Understanding his meaning, I followed him outside into the fresh evening air and under the starlit and moonlit canopy. When we reached the grass, cool under our bare feet, we turned to face one another, and smiled lovingly. We each knew the other was quickly reaching the point of no return, and Robin broke his silence, “Only 9 more days, sweet Nathan, until my happy arms hold you!” “It will seem like 9 years, darling Robin, before we both know that moment divine.” I have never felt such a tide of love and passion rise from within, as our multiple jets of cum crossed the gulfs of both distance and psyche. I followed Robin back inside, feeling a bit dazed, and we each picked up our crumpled clothes and laid them over the backs of the dining chairs. Then we each donned a kimono, sat on the leather armchairs, and gazed at each other for a few moments. I told Robin that I love the feeling of silk on my skin. Then Robin grinned, lifted his port glass, look a sip, and said, “Now I want to see the evening snack in the box!” I took a sip from my glass and removed the lid from the cookie box. “I made these for us today!” “Wow, I love brownies!” “These are very special brownies!” “If you’re trying to get me horny again, those’ll work, Nathan!” After each downing a brownie washed down with the sweet port, Robin and I were feeling quite mellow, looking at each other with our open kimonos and spread legs, showing our flaccid penises, and loosely hanging testicles. We both linked our fingers behind our heads to fully display ourselves. I reckoned that I could never tire of admiring any part of Robin’s body. We continued the wide-ranging conversation we had been having over dinner, including touching on projects we each had going at work. He mentioned that his company has offices all over Europe, and that he knows my company shares many of the same cities. Then he told me he has Irish citizenship, therefore European Union citizenship, through his Father, and has often visited family in the Dublin and Galway areas, and also in Copenhagen (where his mum’s family is from) and elsewhere in Denmark. He hopes to work over there, as he can do so anywhere from Finland to Malta. Even French Polynesia, for that matter! He said, “I hope you can come with me, Nathan! As my partner!” Was that a proposal? Or just the brownies talking? As we got increasingly mellow and a bit giddy, our conversation gradually veered toward sexuality (as you might expect, with the views we both had across the coffee table). We began to describe things we like physically in men we are attracted to, and of course Robin checked all my boxes and I his! Our cocks were beginning to attune to the conversation, shall I say, and we were idly stroking. I told Robin that I admire his body because it is well balanced, looking as though he earned his muscles naturally, rather that by working out. I asked him to stand and take off his kimono, and slowly turn around for me. “Some gym boys have ridiculously developed upper bodies and little chicken legs!” I said. He told me that he had been a slow developer, having entered high school just as puberty was starting; like around half his grade 9 classmates, he had no pubic hair and felt self-conscious in the gym showers. Many of his Italian and middle eastern classmates already had very hairy bodies and looked manly. So he got involved in more sports in an effort to catch up. He had always played peewee hockey and baseball, and continued with those programs, and also got into track. But the real key to achieving his physical balance as he matured was his summer job. His cousin had been a landscape architecture student at UBC, and started his own landscaping company as a means of financing his own education. Robin’s father encouraged him to hire Robin for the summer when he was just 14, and he had earned all his own university tuition that way. Once at University of Calgary, Robin continued doing that sort of work with the university grounds department during the summers and even part-time during the school year. That work over about 7 years entailed a variety of physical labour, including laying sod and paving stones, planting trees, cutting grass, installing irrigation systems, and hefting decorative rocks. As Robin described that history and I watched, my erection returned. Then Robin sat and asked me to stand and tell him about my own physical development while he admired me. I told him I had always been competitive with my brother and cousins, and that we all played pickup basketball and softball as kids. For many years in school I had been a gymnast and runner, and we all also practiced martial arts, like my dad and his brothers. Martial arts had trained both our bodies and minds and given us confidence. I did not tell Robin about all the awards I have won over the years, that would be a story for later. Robin told me I am gorgeous, and I said he same to him. Robin asked me to show him some moves, so I went outside to the lawn and did some of my best Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon kicks, spins, and thrusts for about 5 minutes, my cock still fully erect. Robin’s penis had also responded, and he jerked furiously while watching me, then stopped and grinned, saying he would save it for later. After that display of our bodies, and wanting to delay our next orgasms for a while, we began to discuss our favourite men in entertainment, while slowly stroking. It was interesting how our tastes both overlapped and differed. For example, Robin asked me whether I had seen the recent production of Jesus Christ Superstar. I told him I had watched it twice, and nearly creamed when the shirtless John Legend as Jesus was being raised up on the cross. I said I was glad so many Renaissance artists were gay, as Jesus always looked erotic! Robin told me that, though he also likes John Legend, he prefers the more hunky (and more powerful singer) Brandon Dixon who played Judas; Robin had had an erection through the entire show, and cummed during the curtain calls! I then asked Robin whether he had seen the Grammy award show performance by BTS and Lil Nas X. He knew who they were but had not seen the show. He opened his laptop and found it on YouTube, and watched mesmerized. “Holy fuck!, said Robin, “Lil Nas looks so fuckin hot in that silver outfit, and all those cute Korean boys with their dyed hair are amazing! I wonder what went on backstage!” Was it my imagination, or did their crotch bulges all enlarge as the performance progressed? I mentioned that I have heard Lil Nas made some gay porn videos before becoming famous, and we both continued stroking thinking of watching the adorable Lil Nas fucking and getting fucked in videos and hoping we could find them. Among other entertainers we discussed was Justin Bieber. “Do you like Bieber?” Robin asked me. I told him I not really a fan of his music, but that I find him sexy, though his tats have become a bit overdone. Robin told me he thinks the tats make the Bieb look a bit demonic, and he sorta likes his badboy image. Robin and I both stroked hard as we discussed what we would do to punish the Bieb, including double penetration! We are both glad neither of us has spoilt our bodies with tats! After more discussion of our fantasy entertainers, I asked Robin to tell me more about his sex life in Calgary. It turned out he had been a bit coy the previous day, and that his sex life had not been entirely vanilla. Despite Calgary’s image as a redneck and conservative oil hub and the macho cowboy culture, the city has a thriving arts community, and several gay clubs and bath houses. As you can imagine, a slim blond 18-year-old attracted a lot of attention, both wanted and unwanted! Robin had particularly enjoyed times when he and his friends had taken turns having their arms tied and being cum-control-edged by each other! I said I love doing that too and get totally turned on when watching videos of guys writhing (especially after they have cummed and their cocks are totally sensitive and being tortured)! I was sure Robin and I would do that together the following month. Then I told Robin more details than I had the evening before about my teenage experiences with my brother and cousins, and about my sex life in my ‘20s. I even told him about an experience I had with a colleague after our company “seasonal’ party in January. But I left out the times I had “played for pay” with older “rice queens”. As we each described those events from our pasts, we continued to munch on my special brownies, and I told Robin I hoped he was not shocked by the experiences I had with family members. He said he was glad that I had spent those happy times, and that he hopes to meet my brother and cousins. “They are part of ‘all the things you are’, sweet Nathan!” he said. Emboldened by his brownie high, he repeated that someday our happy arms would hold each other, then launched into Some Enchanted Evening, crooning the line, “Once you have found him never let him go!” I threw a cushion at him, and we both giggled uncontrollably. He told me he was very glad to have found me, and I said that we had found each other. He then said, for richer or poorer, he would keep me in silk kimonos. That got him another well-deserved cushion in the chest. What is it about gay men and show tunes? Genes? The brownies had worked their magic as I had known they would when I made them. Our cocks grew increasingly turgid until we had both developed absolutely raging erections and deep flushes, and our urges to jerk off increasingly insistent. Then Robin said to me, “I know you’re very close right now; so am I!” He went to a nearby cabinet, reached into a drawer, and returned with two little brown bottles (I made a mental note to ask him later where he got them). We doffed the kimonos, then each unscrewed the caps, inhaled twice in each nostril and, as the rush overcame us, we both arched our backs into our chairs while throwing our legs over the arms. We wanked frantically while watching each other, tweaking our nipples, our faces in agonized ecstasy, our bodies writhing, bathed in sweat, and our anal sphincters pulsating. Robin stopped briefly and I watched some precum drip down his cock and onto his balls. He then resumed stroking and cummed quickly, with very loud, ecstatic cries as all his body tensed and looked so beautiful, and I watched as jets of cum hit his face, neck, and chest. A few seconds later, my entire body tightened, my toes pointed, all my muscles and sinews looking like they would break through my skin. Then my knees spontaneously bent toward my chest exposing my anus to Robin’s full view and, as I cried out, “I wanna feel your cum pump into me, Robin!!”; I felt the pressure moving through my abdomen and then I erupted in long strings that flew over the back of the chair. We grinned at each other lovingly while panting heavily. After a couple of minutes, Robin again adopted his Jeeves accent and asked, “Would sir like a spot of tea?”, to which I responded in my best Cockney, “You betcha, my man, I could murder a cuppa!” I put it down to too much Masterpiece Theatre! By now it was about 10:30, and we watched some TV news as we drank our tea. We then readied ourselves for bed, then lay under the warm blankets on our respective couches watching Schitt$ Creek on Netflix and breaking into laughter frequently. Robin eyelids began to droop and then he fell asleep before me; I watched his lovely face in repose for a few minutes, then turned out the light and TV. Friday morning I awoke to the scent of cooking, and Robin surprised me with a big stack of blueberry pancakes, bacon, maple syrup, orange juice, and tea. Wiggling my eyebrows I asked whether he had awakened with a piss hardon as I had, and he told me “Of course”, but had decided to just pee and save his sperm for that evening. “Does that mean I’m invited over again tonight?” I asked excitedly. “I hope you will come Nathan, and every night until we can touch… then perhaps we can alternate with your place.” I told him I would bring him some of my home cooking. After I arrived home and had parked my car, I remained sitting in it for a few minutes thinking about Robin and what our future might have in store, while crying tears of joy. April 2020 This Story is completely true, though some of the dialogue is from my recollection and might be paraphrased.   After watching Robin recede into the distance after running home with me, I pulled my key from my pocket and let myself into my building. Once inside the stairwell, I let out a loud “Woohoo”, and bounded up the stairs, 2 at a time, to my 4th floor condo. Once inside, I took off the shell Robin had leant me, and idly put my hand under my singlet to give my tummy a rub. I smiled to feel some leftover cum residue still encrusted. I turned on my work laptop (which I never use for personal stuff). It was coming up 9:00; “Just in time”, thought I. Then I looked at my emails and discovered that the 9:00 conference call about one of my projects had been cancelled, and I had nothing in my calendar until the 11:00 “all hands” with our CEO in LA. “Fuck it,” I said aloud and donned the shell and went back outside to put in another 5 or 6 kilometres under the morning sunshine. As I ran, wonderful images of Robin were going around in my head: him with his big grin gyrating to the music, occasionally stroking his rock-hard, blue-veined 8 inches, and later facing me across the coffee table, both of us spread-eagled, him stroking hard and tweaking his nipples while his pink balls bobbled, and me in ecstasy. After running about 4 kilometres, I returned to the present, and realized my skimpy shorts were tenting. I did not particularly care whether anyone noticed; an erection is only human, right? Like many runners planning to go a long-distance, I often take no water along and instead plan a route that hits known public water fountains in parks. Are there others like me, however, who also plan routes around known locations where a quick wank can be discreetly had, just in case the urge comes on (so to speak)? I ran quickly toward a park with a copse of trees and shrubs that I had used before and I was relieved to see no one about. I waded about 4 metres through the undergrowth to a small clearing I knew of. As is often the case, a few used condoms were strewn about, showing that not only masturbation goes on in those shrubs! I undid the zipper of the shell, pulled the front of my singlet up behind my head, and lowered my shorts around my ankles. My fully engorged cock was already dripping precum that I was happy to use as lube. I spent about 10 minutes jacking in the dappled sunlight, while rubbing my abdomen and ass, tweaking my nipples, and thrusting my hips while thinking of my previous evening and morning with Robin… his smile, his voice, his beautiful bum, the first time we ejaculated together, onto opposite sides of the door glass and licked our cum across the barrier while seeming to kiss…. I felt the sexual flush on my body intensify, my breathing heavy, and the powerful tension building in my lower abdomen. When I erupted, the pulsing from behind my balls and into my cock sent gushes onto the leaves of the shrubs, while my entire body shook uncontrollably. I know my face had been contorted as if in agony as I screamed aloud, “Robin! Arrrgggghhhh!” After the pumping of my ejaculation muscles slowed, and squeezing the last drops from my cock, I reassembled my clothes, and made sure there were no leaves on my shorts (though there were some errant cum drops that I rather liked the look of). I was only about 2 kilometres from home, as my route had circled back, and I decided to walk the rest of the way home. My emotions were all over the place. For several weeks I had been sleeping poorly and had had a vague feeling of apprehension, as if I were back in school at exam time. News from my company had been bad: the USA-based architecture and engineering firm has offices all over the world with about 60,000 employees, and many of the staff had been laid off or temporarily furloughed. We had learnt from an “all hands” meeting the previous week that 4 employees had passed away from Covid-19, and that many others had lost close family members; we were not informed who they were or where they worked, leaving me wondering whether I had worked on projects with any of them. Now, having met Robin, I was feeling my tension dissipate and be replaced by joy and passion. True passion, the passion felt by an adult man, who is usually a bit cynical and cocky, when discovering something beyond his control and that he hadn’t the capacity to feel when younger. I felt happier than I had in a very long time, and walked jauntily, humming random music, and deciding on my dinner outfit. I think that was the first time in my life I was truly and resolutely glad to be a man who loves other men. Back in my condo at around 10:40, I checked my phone, and found a text from a number I did not know. I opened it, and found Robin had let me know his number, and wondered when we could speak. I responded with a couple of heart emojis and asked him to call at 12:00 after my online meeting. I stripped off and took a nice shower, my cock already getting a bit turgid again, and decided to stay naked during the meeting. Fortunately, the meeting did not reveal any new bad news and was aimed more at business development and client relations as we move into an unknown future. I listened to the meeting with one ear while preparing an evening snack for Robin and me. Right at noon, my phone vibrated, and I quickly opened the call. “Hi honey,” I said (was that really me? I had known Robin less than 24 hours…), and Robin chuckled and said, “Hi sweetie pie”. We both giggled. He asked with a feigned pout in his voice where I had been when he first texted, and I told him what I had been up to. He told me he had jerked off, thinking of me, just before sending the text, but promised to save himself for me for the rest of the day. I made the reciprocal promise. When he told me he was preparing dinner for 6:00, I asked what I could bring to help out. He said there was no need, but I could bring some red wine if I wanted. I told him I would also bring dessert, and an evening snack. We spoke a bit more, then I told him I should try to get some work done in the afternoon. Remaining starkers, I managed to immerse myself in work for about 4 hours, doing quality control checks on some bridge specs that had been prepared by a junior colleague. Overall, he had done an ok job, but there were some notational errors he should have caught. I would forgive him, as he is cute as a button! Then at around 4:30 I began to don the outfit I had previously decided to wear: sexy red undies, light beige khaki pants, fairly tight legged and ass enhancing, a dark green crewneck pullover, by Italian label Zegna, of a silk-cotton blend that draped beautifully over my chest and displayed my clavicles and adam’s apple, and over it a tan suede bomber jacket. Onto my bare feet I slipped new, shiny tan penny loafers, complete with shiny pennies for luck. I noticed I was shaking a little when I examined the result in the full-length mirror of my closet doors, and smiled at myself. “Nathan,” said the voice in my head, “Settle down, Robin is… well… I take that back, he is worth being nervous about!” Once ready, I loaded up a cookie tin, bagged it, and walked the 5 flights down to my car in the underground garage. I drive a second-hand, dark-blue Toyota Prius 5-door, complete with solar panels on the roof. I love my car, despite the geeky image of that model. (I once drove from Vancouver to Jasper, Alberta, on less than a tank of gas.) I stopped off at three places along Commercial Drive, first a small florist I like, then the liquor store, and finally Fratelli Bakery, a venerable Italian institution. With the purchased treasures in the trunk, I headed to Robin’s house. I arrived about 10 minutes early, intending to wait in my car until the appointed time, but as I parked along the curb across the street I saw Robin sitting on his front steps. He did not know my car, and paid no attention until I got out and gave him a wave. He stood and watched with a big smile while I retrieved the bags from the trunk. As I approached him along the front walk, I said, “Waiting for Carlos?”, to which he chucked, “Who else?” Then he remarked on my car and told me he was glad to learn I was ecologically conscious – he had been expecting a Boxster or other hi-test vehicle. I responded, “W’ll save the hi-test in the cookie tin until later!” and he raised an eyebrow. “You were full of surprises yesterday, so I brought some of my own along for you today!” I wanted to give him a huge hug, and I am sure he felt the same way. Robin led me around back as I admired his bum as he swaggered subtly 2 metres ahead in his tight, 501s that had naturally faded to match the contours of his long legs, and his shapely neck and blond head rising from his crisply ironed, collarless, untucked, white button-front shirt. I felt my cock twitching. As we entered through the sliding doors into the family room where we had derived so much enjoyment the day before, I exclaimed, “Wow, something spells fantastic, Robin!” Classic jazz music was playing quietly. The covers indeed remained on the couches, and he had set up a little antique rosewood drop-leaf table for two just inside, and perpendicular to, the doors. The table, roughly 4-feet by 6-feet, was covered with a while lace cloth, and Robin had placed settings of beautiful hand-made dinnerware (made by his aunt, it turned out), sterling silver cutlery, and Waterford crystal glassware at the long ends of the table, so we could maintain our distancing, and two candlesticks in the centre. Geez, all this was for me. For Us. I handed him the flowers, and the Fratelli box. I told him the content of the box was for dessert, and that it should go in the ‘fridge for now. Robin was effusive with his thanks and disappeared into the rest of the house for a couple of minutes. He returned with the bouquet of spring blooms carefully arranged in a beautiful arts-nouveau patterned art-glass vase, which he placed on the table. “Please turn around, Nathan, I want to see your outfit!” As I did so, he said, “Wow, I have never seen you in regular clothes before, you look quite fetching!” I grinned and told him that he looked very handsome himself (per tradition, he had left the bottom button of his 501s undone), and that he could fetch me any time, then took off my shoes and bomber jacket. “Stop stripping there,” Robin said, “We will save the best for later!” I asked whether he had been naked all day like me, and he giggled, “Yep, as usual! I was able to get a bit of work done at my desk while things were cooking, and I like the freedom of air on my body.” Then he announced, in a posh Jeeves accent, “Dinner will be served in half an hour, sir; may I bring sir an aperitif?” I responded in my best Cockney, “You betcha, my good man!” Robin went to the kitchen, from where I heard some clinking of glass and ice before he returned with a pair of highball glasses, containing a brick red concoction with celery sticks. I let out a gasp and, taking a sip, I said, “Wow, I love bloody ceasars! And this is perfect! Just the right balance of spices! What brand of vodka do you use?” “Finlandia,” he said, “I would never use Russian vodka… the Russian crackdown on the LGTTQ+ community has been deplorable!” That remark led us into a discussion of other boycotts and our political and environmental views that continued much through dinner. It was amazing to find out how similar were our somewhat lefty worldviews, and it was also very refreshing to discuss things other than our sexuality with an attractive man for two hours! Robin has quite a mature and deep (and handsome) head upon his shapely shoulders! After quickly guzzling his ceasar, Robin said he needed to quickly prepare a side dish and plate our dinners. As I heard distant sizzling, I took that opportunity to remove the red wine I had brought from its bag. It was one of my favourites – Cabernet Franc from the Tinhorn Creek winery in the Okanagan Valley. Robin returned with a meal I told him looked absolutely scrumptious: braised lamb shoulder, with garlic mashed potatoes, sliced carrots with ginger root and honey, and beautifully stir-fried baby bok choy. After placing down our plates, Robin looked at the wine and said, “Wow, Nathan, that is wonderful, I have never tried this one! Please do the honours!” Luckily he had already placed a corkscrew on the table. I uncorked the bottle, poured, and we toasted. I told Robin that I was totally overwhelmed by the effort he had gone to and asked him how he knew lamb was my favourite meat. “You told me yesterday… we talked about Greek restaurants… I was paying close attention.” Then he lit the candles on the table. I told Robin, meaning it, that I have never had any better lamb, totally melt-in-your-mouth. I knew this dinner would always remain in my memory. Once we finished our main courses, and the wine, Robin said he was ready to try the dessert I had brought. He took our plates to the kitchen, and in a short while I heard him shout out, “Oh Wow”. I took the opportunity to place another bottle on the table, a Fonseco port. Robin returned with a platter holding the cake from Fratelli; it was lemon and whipped cream. I told him I had chosen lemon to match his hair. He asked, playfully, “And the cream? What does that remind you of?” Then he noticed the second bottle and looked at me quizzically. “A digestif to accompany dessert,” said I. As we ate the cake, laughed together at the cum-like gobs of cream getting onto our faces, and savoured the sweet wine, the music caught my attention. “Ella?” “You’re right, you mentioned yesterday that you like her.” Wow, he had been paying attention! When we had finished our first helpings of the cake, I asked Robin to turn the volume up a bit. The First Lady of Song was singing the beautiful “All the Things You Are” by Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II. The lyrics are among the most romantic ever. I had anticipated the words, and totally lost it when Ella sang “Some day my happy arms will hold you, and some day I’ll know that moment divine, when all the things you are, are mine.” Crazy Nathan, usually cocky and self-contained, started to sob, first my shoulders shaking, then a flood of tears. I told Robin that the thing I looked forward to most after we no longer needed to isolate was just to hold each other feeling the warmth of our bodies, and to listen to his breathing as we fall asleep, entwined together. Robin said, also tearing, “That’s what I also long for, Nathan… I can’t believe…” Then he began to sob also. After a minute or so, we looked into each others’ eyes and smiled. Geez, talk about schmaltzy! After Ella switched to some more upbeat songs in her signature scat style, Robin cut us each another slice of cake, and I refilled our port glasses. We spoke of our family background while eating. Robin was born in Vancouver, and his parents were both Canadian-born, but his maternal grandparents were Danish, and “Da’s” parents were Irish; it was the latter whom his parents were visiting in Victoria. “Accounts for your blond hair and green eyes, for sure!” I told him how the families of both my father and mother were both from Hong Kong, and came to Canada in the late 1980s They knew 1997 was to be the year when the thriving city would fall under tyrannical rule with the stroke of a pen. I, my brother, and my cousins had all been born in Vancouver. He asked me my surname, and I told him it is one of the most common Chinese names. He said, “hmmm… lemme guess… Chang? Wong?” I said, “Got it in two, pretty good!” He told me I would never guess his surname and, when he told me, he was right, though it is probably a name fairly common in Ireland. When we were finished our second slices of cake, Robin cleared the table, and I told him I wished I could help with the cleanup. Robin said there were not many dishes that could not go in the dishwasher, and that he habitually washes pots and pans as the meal preparation progresses. I carefully carried the candles to the coffee table, then returned for our port glasses, the bottle, and the cookie tin, and switched on the fireplace. A silk kimono lay folded on an arm of each chair in case we wanted them later, and I noticed Robin’s laptop remained on the table from the previous evening. Robin had previously dimmed the room lighting to a soft, romantic glow, and I reflected on how lucky I was to have found him. Robin returned to the family room about 10 minutes later, just as the CD changer revolved to something other than jazz; I recognized the hypnotic voice and rhythm of Enya (no doubt his Da’s music). Wordlessly, Robin stood 2 metres from me across the coffee table and, as we stared into each others’ eyes, began slowly to undo his shirt buttons while swaying to the sensual music, with a sort of seductive, alluring expression on his face I had not previously seen. He had grown a faint, rakish, five-o’clock shadow. Already in the same headspace, I stood and drew off my pullover and began to rub my torso while watching Robin reach the final shirt button and rub his own body. As he slowly removed his shirt, his pink nipples and the alabaster skin of his pecs, solar plexus, abs, and hip bones was highlighted in the soft light, and his treasure trail invited me. I could see his sexual flush moving downward from his neck. He then slowly undid the buttons of his 501s, gradually revealing his dark blond pubic hair, and lack of underwear. Once his jeans were fully undone and had started to drop, Robin turned so his bum faced me, then let them drop fully to the floor and he stepped out of them. He turned back around, and his beautiful, fully erect blue-veined and pink-headed penis came into my view. He linked his fingers behind his head, and I could see the contours of his ribcage and concave tummy. Also swaying to the music, I did the same thing, first turning to reveal my bum, then back to show him my penis in full flourish. I could feel that my sexual flush had reddened my face, neck, and upper chest, and I grabbed my cock and pulled at my ball sack. Robin also began to stroke, and we both danced and jacked wordlessly, tweaking our own nipples, and our faces revealed how we were slowly building to ecstasy as we watched each other across the coffee table. Our desires had been building throughout dinner, and now begged to be released. Reading me perfectly as my hip movements, deep sighing, clenched facial muscles, and increasingly sweaty brow signalled my immanent release, Robin made an almost imperceptible motion of his beautiful green eyes toward the sliding doors. Understanding his meaning, I followed him outside into the fresh evening air and under the starlit and moonlit canopy. When we reached the grass, cool under our bare feet, we turned to face one another, and smiled lovingly. We each knew the other was quickly reaching the point of no return, and Robin broke his silence, “Only 9 more days, sweet Nathan, until my happy arms hold you!” “It will seem like 9 years, darling Robin, before we both know that moment divine.” I have never felt such a tide of love and passion rise from within, as our multiple jets of cum crossed the gulfs of both distance and psyche. I followed Robin back inside, feeling a bit dazed, and we each picked up our crumpled clothes and laid them over the backs of the dining chairs. Then we each donned a kimono, sat on the leather armchairs, and gazed at each other for a few moments. I told Robin that I love the feeling of silk on my skin. Then Robin grinned, lifted his port glass, look a sip, and said, “Now I want to see the evening snack in the box!” I took a sip from my glass and removed the lid from the cookie box. “I made these for us today!” “Wow, I love brownies!” “These are very special brownies!” “If you’re trying to get me horny again, those’ll work, Nathan!” After each downing a brownie washed down with the sweet port, Robin and I were feeling quite mellow, looking at each other with our open kimonos and spread legs, showing our flaccid penises, and loosely hanging testicles. We both linked our fingers behind our heads to fully display ourselves. I reckoned that I could never tire of admiring any part of Robin’s body. We continued the wide-ranging conversation we had been having over dinner, including touching on projects we each had going at work. He mentioned that his company has offices all over Europe, and that he knows my company shares many of the same cities. Then he told me he has Irish citizenship, therefore European Union citizenship, through his Father, and has often visited family in the Dublin and Galway areas, and also in Copenhagen (where his mum’s family is from) and elsewhere in Denmark. He hopes to work over there, as he can do so anywhere from Finland to Malta. Even French Polynesia, for that matter! He said, “I hope you can come with me, Nathan! As my partner!” Was that a proposal? Or just the brownies talking? As we got increasingly mellow and a bit giddy, our conversation gradually veered toward sexuality (as you might expect, with the views we both had across the coffee table). We began to describe things we like physically in men we are attracted to, and of course Robin checked all my boxes and I his! Our cocks were beginning to attune to the conversation, shall I say, and we were idly stroking. I told Robin that I admire his body because it is well balanced, looking as though he earned his muscles naturally, rather that by working out. I asked him to stand and take off his kimono, and slowly turn around for me. “Some gym boys have ridiculously developed upper bodies and little chicken legs!” I said. He told me that he had been a slow developer, having entered high school just as puberty was starting; like around half his grade 9 classmates, he had no pubic hair and felt self-conscious in the gym showers. Many of his Italian and middle eastern classmates already had very hairy bodies and looked manly. So he got involved in more sports in an effort to catch up. He had always played peewee hockey and baseball, and continued with those programs, and also got into track. But the real key to achieving his physical balance as he matured was his summer job. His cousin had been a landscape architecture student at UBC, and started his own landscaping company as a means of financing his own education. Robin’s father encouraged him to hire Robin for the summer when he was just 14, and he had earned all his own university tuition that way. Once at University of Calgary, Robin continued doing that sort of work with the university grounds department during the summers and even part-time during the school year. That work over about 7 years entailed a variety of physical labour, including laying sod and paving stones, planting trees, cutting grass, installing irrigation systems, and hefting decorative rocks. As Robin described that history and I watched, my erection returned. Then Robin sat and asked me to stand and tell him about my own physical development while he admired me. I told him I had always been competitive with my brother and cousins, and that we all played pickup basketball and softball as kids. For many years in school I had been a gymnast and runner, and we all also practiced martial arts, like my dad and his brothers. Martial arts had trained both our bodies and minds and given us confidence. I did not tell Robin about all the awards I have won over the years, that would be a story for later. Robin told me I am gorgeous, and I said he same to him. Robin asked me to show him some moves, so I went outside to the lawn and did some of my best Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon kicks, spins, and thrusts for about 5 minutes, my cock still fully erect. Robin’s penis had also responded, and he jerked furiously while watching me, then stopped and grinned, saying he would save it for later. After that display of our bodies, and wanting to delay our next orgasms for a while, we began to discuss our favourite men in entertainment, while slowly stroking. It was interesting how our tastes both overlapped and differed. For example, Robin asked me whether I had seen the recent production of Jesus Christ Superstar. I told him I had watched it twice, and nearly creamed when the shirtless John Legend as Jesus was being raised up on the cross. I said I was glad so many Renaissance artists were gay, as Jesus always looked erotic! Robin told me that, though he also likes John Legend, he prefers the more hunky (and more powerful singer) Brandon Dixon who played Judas; Robin had had an erection through the entire show, and cummed during the curtain calls! I then asked Robin whether he had seen the Grammy award show performance by BTS and Lil Nas X. He knew who they were but had not seen the show. He opened his laptop and found it on YouTube, and watched mesmerized. “Holy fuck!, said Robin, “Lil Nas looks so fuckin hot in that silver outfit, and all those cute Korean boys with their dyed hair are amazing! I wonder what went on backstage!” Was it my imagination, or did their crotch bulges all enlarge as the performance progressed? I mentioned that I have heard Lil Nas made some gay porn videos before becoming famous, and we both continued stroking thinking of watching the adorable Lil Nas fucking and getting fucked in videos and hoping we could find them. Among other entertainers we discussed was Justin Bieber. “Do you like Bieber?” Robin asked me. I told him I not really a fan of his music, but that I find him sexy, though his tats have become a bit overdone. Robin told me he thinks the tats make the Bieb look a bit demonic, and he sorta likes his badboy image. Robin and I both stroked hard as we discussed what we would do to punish the Bieb, including double penetration! We are both glad neither of us has spoilt our bodies with tats! After more discussion of our fantasy entertainers, I asked Robin to tell me more about his sex life in Calgary. It turned out he had been a bit coy the previous day, and that his sex life had not been entirely vanilla. Despite Calgary’s image as a redneck and conservative oil hub and the macho cowboy culture, the city has a thriving arts community, and several gay clubs and bath houses. As you can imagine, a slim blond 18-year-old attracted a lot of attention, both wanted and unwanted! Robin had particularly enjoyed times when he and his friends had taken turns having their arms tied and being cum-control-edged by each other! I said I love doing that too and get totally turned on when watching videos of guys writhing (especially after they have cummed and their cocks are totally sensitive and being tortured)! I was sure Robin and I would do that together the following month. Then I told Robin more details than I had the evening before about my teenage experiences with my brother and cousins, and about my sex life in my ‘20s. I even told him about an experience I had with a colleague after our company “seasonal’ party in January. But I left out the times I had “played for pay” with older “rice queens”. As we each described those events from our pasts, we continued to munch on my special brownies, and I told Robin I hoped he was not shocked by the experiences I had with family members. He said he was glad that I had spent those happy times, and that he hopes to meet my brother and cousins. “They are part of ‘all the things you are’, sweet Nathan!” he said. Emboldened by his brownie high, he repeated that someday our happy arms would hold each other, then launched into Some Enchanted Evening, crooning the line, “Once you have found him never let him go!” I threw a cushion at him, and we both giggled uncontrollably. He told me he was very glad to have found me, and I said that we had found each other. He then said, for richer or poorer, he would keep me in silk kimonos. That got him another well-deserved cushion in the chest. What is it about gay men and show tunes? Genes? The brownies had worked their magic as I had known they would when I made them. Our cocks grew increasingly turgid until we had both developed absolutely raging erections and deep flushes, and our urges to jerk off increasingly insistent. Then Robin said to me, “I know you’re very close right now; so am I!” He went to a nearby cabinet, reached into a drawer, and returned with two little brown bottles (I made a mental note to ask him later where he got them). We doffed the kimonos, then each unscrewed the caps, inhaled twice in each nostril and, as the rush overcame us, we both arched our backs into our chairs while throwing our legs over the arms. We wanked frantically while watching each other, tweaking our nipples, our faces in agonized ecstasy, our bodies writhing, bathed in sweat, and our anal sphincters pulsating. Robin stopped briefly and I watched some precum drip down his cock and onto his balls. He then resumed stroking and cummed quickly, with very loud, ecstatic cries as all his body tensed and looked so beautiful, and I watched as jets of cum hit his face, neck, and chest. A few seconds later, my entire body tightened, my toes pointed, all my muscles and sinews looking like they would break through my skin. Then my knees spontaneously bent toward my chest exposing my anus to Robin’s full view and, as I cried out, “I wanna feel your cum pump into me, Robin!!”; I felt the pressure moving through my abdomen and then I erupted in long strings that flew over the back of the chair. We grinned at each other lovingly while panting heavily. After a couple of minutes, Robin again adopted his Jeeves accent and asked, “Would sir like a spot of tea?”, to which I responded in my best Cockney, “You betcha, my man, I could murder a cuppa!” I put it down to too much Masterpiece Theatre! By now it was about 10:30, and we watched some TV news as we drank our tea. We then readied ourselves for bed, then lay under the warm blankets on our respective couches watching Schitt$ Creek on Netflix and breaking into laughter frequently. Robin eyelids began to droop and then he fell asleep before me; I watched his lovely face in repose for a few minutes, then turned out the light and TV. Friday morning I awoke to the scent of cooking, and Robin surprised me with a big stack of blueberry pancakes, bacon, maple syrup, orange juice, and tea. Wiggling my eyebrows I asked whether he had awakened with a piss hardon as I had, and he told me “Of course”, but had decided to just pee and save his sperm for that evening. “Does that mean I’m invited over again tonight?” I asked excitedly. “I hope you will come Nathan, and every night until we can touch… then perhaps we can alternate with your place.” I told him I would bring him some of my home cooking. After I arrived home and had parked my car, I remained sitting in it for a few minutes thinking about Robin and what our future might have in store, while crying tears of joy. April 2020 This Story is completely true, though some of the dialogue is from my recollection and might be paraphrased.   After watching Robin recede into the distance after running home with me, I pulled my key from my pocket and let myself into my building. Once inside the stairwell, I let out a loud “Woohoo”, and bounded up the stairs, 2 at a time, to my 4th floor condo. Once inside, I took off the shell Robin had leant me, and idly put my hand under my singlet to give my tummy a rub. I smiled to feel some leftover cu