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The birds waited for me every afternoon. I would stop at the bakery on 56th Street and get a bag of leftover rolls from the breakfast rush. Pigeons are plentiful and most New Yorkers think of them as nothing more than an annoyance, but I enjoy feeding them. Some of them are regulars, and I even named a few of the bolder, friendlier birds. I know it sounds silly, but they brought me some peace of mind. My lover, my life-partner, had been taken from me just six months before when he stepped in front of a school bus full of high school kids at the corner of Park and 32nd. By the time I got to the hospital, he was gone.
The area at the bottom of the grand staircase at the Bethesda fountain is one of my favorite spots. I like watching the boaters on the lake floundering around, losing their oars, and splashing each other like children. Seeing others having fun and enjoying each others company made me miss Eric even more. We used to come here together, to catch some sun and get out of our tiny little city apartment. Not any more.
The little girl would almost always be waiting for me, too. She was perfect; a little porcelain doll with dark black curls and dimples on each cheek. She was usually dressed in frilly little pinafores and sundresses, always girly and sweet. About five years old, her name was Angela. She would break away from the other kids playing in the court and run to help me feed the birds. The vigilant mothers all sat together on the benches surrounding the fountain, but I never saw Angelas mom. Angela always arrived from the south path with a tall, athletic man.
He sat alone, usually on the bottom step, watching as Angela frolicked and played. He recognized me, and allowed Angela to sit on the bench next to me as we tore the bread into tiny pieces. He never joined us, but watched from his perch as the pigeons swirled around us. About six feet tall, inky black hair and handsome face above a broad torso that tapered to a narrow waist. His clothing flattered him. He tended to wear tight tee shirts or tanks, his muscular arms dropping heavily from his shoulders. He favored cotton pants that clung to his hips and accentuated the soft mounds of his buttocks. Such an amazingly attractive man. He had given his excellent genes to his child; she was as stunning as her father.
I thought about him many nights as I returned to my lonely apartment. It was time to meet someone new, and this guy was just my type. Too bad he was married with children. What a waste that such a hot man was straight! I would lie in my bed thinking of him stripping off his tank, exposing his broad shoulders and defined pectorals, the skin soft and the hair smooth over his chest. He would drop his pants in my fantasy, and his huge cock would jut out from a wiry mound of black pubic hair growing below his ripped abs. His perfect penis would point its swollen red glan at me as I fell to my knees before him. I dreamed of capturing it in my mouth, swallowing the thick, meaty shaft and taking his shot of thick sweet cum into my belly. I would drift off, my own cum lying in a sticky pool on my stomach, praying that I would continue to dream of him in my sleep.
The sun was brutal that Sunday. The bakery had little to give me for the birds, so I was going to skip the park and head for the piers on the Hudson to sunbathe. Something inside told me to go to the fountain, so I followed my instinct. Buying a loaf of Wonder Bread at the market, I headed towards Central Park. I could hear the sound of the children playing as I crossed the Sheep Meadow and entered the Bethesda fountain. There was Angela, in a glittery pink halter and red pedal pushers with little lace frills at the cuff. She was adorable as usual, and ran to greet me as I approached.
"Hi, Gary, did you bring some bread for the birdies?" She chirped, grabbing the bag from my hand and running off towards the pigeons.
Suddenly, Angela caught her toe in a cobblestone, and I watched helplessly as she flew forward into the stone bricks. It was like slow motion... I saw the astonished look in her innocent face as her head hit the rough paving. The loose bag of bread flew in every direction, the greedy pigeons diving on the frightened child like it was Hitchcock movie.
"Angela! Be careful!" The man yelled as he jumped up from the step and ran across to the child. We both arrived at the screaming baby at the same time. I reached down to pick Angela up, but her father took her from me and swept her up in his powerful arms. He rushed to the edge of the fountain, clutching Angela and rocking her till she calmed down. I stood a few feet away, wondering how I could help. I offered a tissue from my pocket; the man thanked me and took it. Angela seemed to be recovering, and other than a brush burn on her forehead, looked to be unharmed.
"Angel, baby, I told you not to run on these bricks, I knew you were gonna trip!" He cooed at the child. "You scared the crap outta me, sweetie!"
Angela was not listening. She was looking at me, and smiling. She asked me, "Gary, where did the birdies go?" I pointed to the swarm of pigeons, still attacking the slices of Wonder bread. She giggled and squirmed to get out of her dads grip, skipping off in the direction of the feeding flock. I sat next to the man on the fountain. I could smell his skin, sense his warm body. He was still breathing heavily, and I saw his chest heaving with every lungful of air.
"That kidll be the death of me! I cant help but worry about her, from the minute she gets up to when I put her in her bed at night. Does it ever get easier?" He smiled at me and waited for my answer.
"I doubt it. Kids are a lot of work, huh? I dont have any, so I can only sympathize with you." I responded.
The man reached his large, expressive hand out to me. "My name is Tony. Nice to meet you...?"
"Gary." I took his hand in mine and shook. I felt a chill on the back of my neck as he held my palm firmly in his. "Is Angela your only child?" He looked at me with sudden sadness in his eyes.
"Yes, my wife and I were trying for another, but it wasnt meant to be..." He explained. He paused, wondering if I was really interested, or just being polite. He looked like he wanted to talk. I reassured him. "What do you mean? I bet Angela would love a little brother or sister to help her feed the birds!"
Tony looked at his feet. His shoulders slumped as he continued. "My wife is gone. She passed away six months ago. Cervical cancer. I dont think my Angel really understands where Mommy is right now. She talks about her less and less each day. I cant stand the thought that she will soon forget her mom completely."
I didnt know how to respond. Tony was so heartbreaking, so pathetic. I wanted to comfort him, wanted to let him know I understood how he felt. Like him, I had lost the one I loved, also just six months ago. How could I tell him that the man I loved was gone? This straight guy would never understand, he would never think our relationship was as strong, or as enduring, or as meaningful as his was with Angelas mom.
"Would you like to come over for lunch? I went to Balduccis this morning and got Angelas favorite, macaroni and cheese! All I have to do is warm it up. I think I have some wine, too. Red or White with cheese?" Tony said in his best cheery voice. "I know my Angel would love you to come over, she adores you!" I considered for just a split second, then agreed to lunch with Angela and Tony. We left the park together, Daddy and friend, as Angela ran ahead.
We talked about everything. Our jobs, our interests, and of course, Angela, the sweet honey that stuck us together. The wine was pretty bad, but was loosening me up. I felt a little buzz as I watched Tony put Angela in her bed for a nap. He returned to the room and sat next to me on the couch. We sipped Pinot Grigio from plastic tumblers.
"So why are you alone? Isnt there someone special in your life? I mean other than Angela!" He said jokingly. The late sun was streaming in the window, casting long shadows across Tonys body. I gazed at the substantial bulge under his fly, clearly lit in a band of warm yellow light. His handsome face smoldered in the shadows, his arresting eyes glinting under heavy black eyebrows. He pulled the cup to his lips.
"Tony, the only person in my life is gone, just like your wife. I lost Eric six months ago when a bus driver fell asleep and mowed him down. Now Im alone." There. I said it. I turned my head from him and grabbed a pillow to my chest. Tony sat in silence for a while. He looked confused, as if he didnt know how to help this crying man sitting on his couch. He took the bottle from the table and topped off our wine.
"...Eric? You lost a guy? Im sorry, I dont...that is, I didnt know you were...I mean...Im sorry, man." I felt his hand on my shoulder. I turned to look at Tony. His eyes were wet and I clearly saw a glistening tear slip down his ruddy cheek. "So you know what its like to lose the biggest part of your life, to feel a gaping hole in the middle of your heart." His hand dropped down my shoulder, and I felt his fingers clutching at the small of my back. He reached for my chin, and drew me towards him. I shied away, not sure what was happening. His face was so close to mine I could smell the sweetness of the wine on his breath. He pulled me into an embrace.
"Tony, what are you doing? What about..." He stifled my sentence with his lips, pressing them firmly on mine. I felt his body lying across me, pressing my back into the soft pillows of the couch. His big arms circled me as he pulled my chest into his. The bulge under his fly ground urgently into my hip, as he fumbled to loosen the buttons on my shirt. I had to be dreaming. He pulled the tee shirt off his shoulders, his body as incredible as in my fantasy. I reached up to stroke the black, silky hair on his pale chest, feel the smooth softness of his waist and his hard, rippled abdomen.
"Shhhh, dont think too much. Take what I have to offer you. We can comfort each other." Tony whispered in my ear. He opened his pants, released his cock, and guided my hand down to it. I grabbed it, and felt the size of his manhood. It was a full nine inches of thick, warm flesh. It grew from a bushy mound of hair, and got a little thicker as it extended from its base. The head was large and shiny, peeking out of a velvety cowl of foreskin. "I dont have a lot of experience with this stuff, but I want to do this with you. If you help me, Gary, Im willing."
He pulled me up from the couch and finished undressing me. His hands were soft but firm as he gently massaged my back, holding me tightly against his hard belly. He kicked off his pants and we stood cock to cock in the middle of the room. He smelled wonderful: a fragrant blend of wine, tobacco and bubblegum. "Come with me," he said, "lets go into the bedroom."
The big four-poster was dressed up in pretty pastel linens, with ruffled shams and a big fluffy duvet covered in green and blue cabbage roses. This was her bed. This was the bed that they slept in, that Angela was conceived in. I felt odd lying naked across the colorful mint green sheets. Tony lay back in the thick goose-down comforter, his cock standing straight up into the air. His muscular body contrasted with the feminine softness of the bed. He looked over at me, and smiled. I leaned over his massive cock and laid my cheek on his rock-hard abdomen. Tony moaned as I slid my hand down the shaft, pulling the foreskin gently off the angry red tip. I took it into my mouth, and gently swirled my tongue around the glan.
"What should I do, Gary?" He hissed, as his substantial cock slid deeper into my mouth. I couldnt speak. Tonys cock was wedged into my throat as I consumed him. He relaxed, and put his hands under his head. I looked up at him, at the large pectorals rising proudly off his torso, silky hairs spreading in a black drift from armpit to armpit. His expression was gentle and dreamy. I saw peace and contentment in his face. I was taking him to a wonderful new place that he had never experienced before. I decided I would make this blowjob last a long, long time. I wanted Tony to stay in this happy place for as long as possible.
"Oh man, This is more than I could have dreamed. How the hell can this feel so good? You must be some kind of cocksucking genius." he said. I responded by taking another couple inches of his cock into my mouth. The last few inches would be the hardest. His dick was pressing on my palette; he was forcing it around the bend at the back of my throat. I gagged, and Tony pulled away. "Shit, you okay? I dont know what the fuck Im doing, I"m probably hurting you!"
I gasped for breath. "Tony, youre not hurting me. Im fine...no, Im fantastic! This is a dream come true. Dont do anything, just let me take care of it all." I took his swollen member back into my mouth and sucked on it greedily. I felt Tony shiver and contract. I knew he was close to coming. I slowed down, to make the feeling last. He held my head in his palms, pressing his cock insistently into my face. I pulled vigorously on my own cock, and felt myself welling up. I shot my load into my hand, the thick creamy wad cupped in my palm. I stopped sucking on Tony and let his fleshy, engorged dick fall out of my mouth. He lay there, surprised and disappointed.
I grinned at him. "Dont worry, Tony, I said I would take care of it all, and I will!" I quickly straddled the amazed stud. I took the slippery wad of cum in my hand and massaged it into my asshole. Positioning myself over his iron hard erection, I gently lowered my hips. His sturdy dick, lubricated with my own cum, started to push through my rosy pucker. I let myself drop, the weight of my body driving me down on my impaler. I whimpered in agony, Tony was utterly amazed. The look in his face was worth any pain. He reached for my waist as I rose up again on his shaft, and let his cock pop out of my ass. Tonys eyes rolled back into his head as his cock rammed back into me, burying itself deep in my gut. Again, again. I released his dick from my ass, then accepted it back with a great plunge. He rammed himself into me over and over, groaning as he lay writhing on the bed. I pressed my hands into his chest and pushed myself off his rod one last time. Finally, Tony grabbed my hips and pulled me down with such force that my balls slapped on his belly. He bucked wildly under me and delivered a surging torrent of cum into my rectum. It shot out of my asshole and gushed under Tonys balls onto the pretty mint sheets.
The following spring was cool. I thought that winter would never let go of New York. We had our last snow in April. The tulips and daffodils were popping up through the dirty melting drifts that lingered in the shadowy corners of the courtyard. Angela ran across the damp cobblestones towards the fountain. The birds flew in from all directions to feast on the little Angels bag of bread. She beamed with pride when she saw me approach. She had something important to show me. The teacher at the school had given her a book. "I Have Two Daddies!"
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