1. Snowy Night

    Date: 4/16/2018, Categories: Gay, Author: byunknownmuse, Source: Literotica

    This story is a work of fiction. All characters are over the age of twenty-one years. ***** Before cell phones and the internet the world was a smaller place. If you wanted something you might have found yourself searching the classifieds in the local paper or the bulletin board of a store. This is how I found myself sucking cock in a strangers house on a snowy night in 1978. I was a college student who shared a room in a group house with anywhere from eight to fifteen students depending. Depending meant who had hooked up that night. The seventies were rather bohemian times. I'm gay. This was not acceptable in those days and so discretion was a must. Getting some usually meant taking the very dangerous subway line to one of the private colleges across town. A surprising number of rich frat guys seemed to like my petite male form and boyish looks. Wearing a sweatshirt from a different university guaranteed a lot of attention because it signaled anonymity and maximized the strange. Everybody loves a little strange. It was a wild time of life. Those rich college studs were willing to pump me full of cum but only in secret. I would slob a knob and leave with no worries from either party. Those tall, well muscled frat boys desperately needed me to kneel before them. If they lived alone they would occasionally bend me over a sturdy piece of furniture as well. With little money to my name I needed transportation around the city. This meant a bike. I had found what I was looking for ... in the form of an ad from the bulletin board of a local bookstore. I walked contentedly through the sparse beginnings of the first snow, the ad from the bookstore carefully copied and placed in the pocket of my jeans. Arriving at the address I walked up to the door of a very nice older home. I knocked and waited in the twilight. We didn't have a phone at our house so this was a true cold call. Staring at the ancient slate slabs that made up the front walk, I waited. The door swung open and there stood a very distinguished looking older man in a crisp black robe holding a pipe. He looked like a handsome character straight out of Hollywood. Not lacking confidence I explained the situation to Mr Hollywood. His eyes finally registered understanding and he motioned me in. I stood in a large entry hall anchored in the back by a wide staircase. An ornate piano with the top flipped up like a convertible was visible through a wide doorway to the left. A heavily furnished room with a fireplace was to the right. I commented on the piano. "I have never seen a piano like that before." I said truthfully. "That is because it isn't a piano but rather an old-fashioned instrument called a harpsichord. " Mr Hollywood replied. "Each string is plucked using a complex mechanism and not struck like a piano. His speech was incredibly polished. With a sweep of his hand he directed me toward the harpsichord. I quickly removed my wet sneakers and placed them neatly by the door so as not to track a mess ...