A Millennium Boy

The moment of truth then arrived, when I would exercise my considerable sex tool on only the second man in my life. I have to admit that it was with some considerable trepidation that I hoisted Geoff's legs over my shoulders and prepared to shaft him. But once in position I somehow regained confidence; after all, I thought, Geoff is just another man exactly like my mentor, Tom, so what is the difference. I had fucked Tom to his satisfaction: to his entire satisfaction; even though I say so myself; so what was now the problem? Well, of course, the answer was that there was no problem: none whatsoever. Geoff's sphincter yielded immediately to my thrusting and I slid the full length of my shaft smoothly into him with no difficulty at all. As I said, I was myself already psyched up sexually by the combination of the total nudity of the occasion and my beating activity, and so I quickly lost myself in the joys of anal intercourse with Geoff and gave him the vigorous fuck he had requested.

Although the object of the exercise was to satisfy the client, I guess I had had, in my role of BBA, as much satisfaction fucking Geoff as he had had being fucked. In fact, I found that I revelled in the rather brutal form of sex which Geoff had demanded; so when I had finished, we were both totally satisfied. As we moved off towards the showers, Geoff said: "You really are one hell of a stud, Liam; you handled the cane better than anyone I know and as for the rest, well I don't need to tell you that you are one hell of a pro with your marvellous cock. We must do this again in the near future. Here take this as a token of my appreciation for your efforts this evening." And he handed me three $100 bills as a tip.

Later that same evening I related to Tom all that had happened in my first day at the gym and told him I felt guilty about accepting such a huge gratuity. He just laughed and said that Geoff and his like, of which there were many, had money to burn; so I should just pocket it and forget about it. But I pointed out him that although I did not mind being called upon to give sexual services to clients at the gym, as I enjoyed it as much as they did I was satisfied to be paid as a training assistant, a BBA, and I did not want to take additional payment for for sexual services. And there the matter rested. I found in the following weeks that many guys fancied having sex with me, and I always obliged them as I enjoyed it as much as they did; but I never again took any form of gratuity from them. I did not have much in the world, but somehow accepting cash for my services, seemed demeaning to me.

And so I fell into life at the gym very easily. The first weekend I as there, a few of the other BBAs decided that they would have a party that Saturday evening and I was invited. I told Tom about it and he was enthusiastic that I go: "Go ahead Liam; go and see how the guys amuse themselves; as you know by now, they are all as gay as we ourselves are and it will give you a new slant on gay sex; to find yourself among a group of young studs, whose idea of a good time is have a fuck-fest." You will all realise that at this time my sexual experience was limited to Tom, with whom I now communed sexually on a more or less daily basis and my one time stand with Geoff; both of these were on a one to one basis and the thought of participating in what would clearly be an evening of group sex with several other guys filled me with fear. But Tom convinced me that it would be good for my sex education: "You need to see now the other half lives, Liam. You'll be absolutely OK and will thank me later for pushing you into accepting the invitation. Go on young man, and have a great time fucking your workmates and, in turn, being fucked by them. You'll see that you'll really enjoy it." And of course, Tom the Wise was right.

It was about month after my arrival in LA that I felt the time had come to find a place of my own as I really felt I was sponging on Tom and his extreme generosity. And so, one evening I broached the subject with him. "Liam, there is no need at all for you to think about leaving. Look, we get on well together and frankly, I really do like having you around; so please forget moving out to a place of your own, unless you are dissatisfied with your lot here with me." Of course I was not and so life went on. And as time passed Tom and I grew ever closer together; sexually we were totally compatible and I finally realised that I was head over heels in love with him. This truly kind man, who had taught me the joys of gay sex and made me see and accept that I too was gay, the only man with whom I had ever had a stable relationship and who had picked me up as a hitchhiker, had become the love of my life; so much so that the thought of ever parting from him filled me with dread. I had never told Tom how deeply I felt about our relationship and I wondered how he felt about me. So one evening when we were in bed together, relaxing after a session of vigorous, loving sex, I pulled away from him and said: "Tom, can I ask you something important? Do you suppose you and I are becoming what is known as an item?"

Tom looked at me and smiled: "Do I suppose that we are becoming an item? Well Liam, the answer to your question is no; we cannot become something we already are and have been for quite some time. Liam, you and I are as tight an item as any two guys ever can be. Liam, I know it may be hard for you to believe, but I knew from the very first day, that day when I picked you up and we had sex together in that motel room -- your first time ever -- that you were the man for me. Liam you are the love of my life and I hope that you might feel the same about me. The thought that I might lose you fills me with horror. So yes, yes, yes Liam; you and I are an item."

A few months later, Tom and I formalised our relationship by marrying each other at City Hall. It was a marriage between equals and we decided to adopt the double-barrelled surname of Symes-Kolanek with a hyphen to indicate the indissolubility of our union. Henceforth we styled ourselves as Tom and Liam Symes-Kolanek.

As time passed, the strength of our love for each other continued to grow and I could not imagine a life without Tom. After a couple of years, when I was twenty years old, I stopped working in the gym as a BBA and took over the general management of the place, whilst Tom occupied himself with his ever growing chain of gay clothes shops. So Tom's Gym and Just Men by Tom continued to prosper. We led by any standards an idyllic life together and did everything together; ours truly was a match made in heaven. And so life continued for a number of years when it was suddenly brought to a jarring, heartbreaking halt in January 2025. As you all realise, as a true millennium boy, I had just become twenty five years old and Tom, seven years my senior, was now thirty two and we had been together for seven years.

That Saturday afternoon, Tom had decided that he wanted to buy himself a new pair of shoes and he had gone off alone in his car to a local mall where we did most of our shopping. He had been gone about an hour when the doorbell rang and I opened the door to find two policemen from the LAPD on the doorstep. Neither of them looked very happy. "Good afternoon, sir. Are you Liam Symes-Kolanek?" said the self appointed spokesman for the two, to which I replied that I was. "May we come inside sir, as we have some rather bad news to deliver to you?" At those words, my heart missed a beat; what on earth could be wrong? Once inside the apartment, the policeman told me that there had been a serious auto accident: a collision between what turned out to be Tom's car and another car, which had run a traffic light and hit him sideways on.

"Sir, I am very sorry to have to tell you that the driver of the car which was crashed into appears to have been a person named Tom Symes-Kolanek. We found this diary in his pocket with his name and your name at this address here where we are at present, sir. Sir, I am very sorry to have to tell you that this man, Tom Symes-Kolanek, who was apparently your partner, was killed outright in the accident. Sir, we are both very sorry for your loss, but there was nothing anyone could do to save him; he was dead by the time he had been freed from the wreckage of his car. It is of no consolation, at all, but the driver of the other vehicle was also killed outright in the accident as he was travelling at quite a lick when he hit your partner's car. Sir, I know it is hard for you, but we have to ask you to come to the city morgue tomorrow to identify the body of your partner."

I sat there that evening in a daze, trying to take in what had happened. Tom had gone out to buy a pair of shoes and some idiot driver had slammed into his car and killed both himself and Tom in the process. My life was shattered by the news that I had lost forever my best friend; my lover; my partner of seven years: the seven happiest years of my life. But there was nothing, nothing at all that I could do to change matters. Tom was gone; gone forever and my life would never be the same again. The next day I went to the morgue to identify Tom's body and when the coroner had released it, I arranged his funeral; the gym and all Tom's clothes shops were closed for the day of the funeral and every one of his numerous employees attended the interment.

In my sorrow, I had given no thought at all as to what would happen to the gym and the shops now that Tom was gone. As far as I knew Tom was like me, in that he had no family at all, and certainly other than me, his partner, there was no one from his family at the funeral. We had never discussed Tom's past other than, as his names implied, he was of Polish extraction via is great grandfather. As the affair had received wide press publicity and no one had turned up at the funeral I had to assume that like me, he was alone in the world. A week after the accident, I received a call from a firm of attorney's who apparently had dealt with Tom's legal affairs, asking me to make an appointment to see them. I have to say that I had never heard of them and Tom and I had never ever discussed his business affairs beyond the gym and the shops, even though we were so very close.

And so it was that a few days later, I was ushered, by an elderly secretary into the presence of one, Mr. Jonathan Smithers, a rather superannuated looking gentleman of the old school, who was the partner who had, apparently who dealt with Tom's affairs. After welcoming me to his office, on what he described as this very sad occasion, he produced a document which turned out to be Tom's Last Will and Testament. I have to say, that I had had no idea that Tom had ever made a will as it was not a subject we had ever touched on together; but there it was. Mr Smithers informed me formally that he intended to read the will to me. He told me that as Tom apparently had no living blood relatives and as he had named me as his next of kin in the will and bequeathed his worldly good in their entirety to me, there would be no one else other than the two of us at the reading.

With ponderous legal formality, Mr Smithers then read out Tom's last wishes; he had left me his entire estate -- lock, stock and barrel -- to dispose of as I wished: Tom's own words in writing in his will. He then said: "Young man, the late Mr. Symes-Kolanek's accountants will be contacting you shortly, to tell you the exact present value of his estate, but I think I can tell you that you are, as of this moment, a very rich young man. You not only inherit the clothes shops and the gymnasium, but also all your late partner's other wealth, which, I understand amounts to about twenty-five million dollars in the form of stocks and shares and other monetary investments."

To say that I was staggered is an understatement. Tom and I had never discussed death; but why should we have? We were both young and healthy and dying was something which happened to old people and not to the likes of us. But we were wrong; the worst had happened and the fact that Tom had died in a road accident did not detract from the fact that he was now dead and gone forever. Frankly all the money in the world would never replace him; I was totally bereft and wondered what I would now do on my own. Those first few days after Tom had gone were absolute agony for me.

The estimated value of Tom's estate turned out to be far from correct, as the accountants explained to me when I saw them. In fact, Tom's net worth, including all his property, was nearer to $50 million. How he had accumulate such wealth I had no idea, but now it was all coming to me and after inheritance taxes I would still be a very wealthy man; a multi-millionaire in fact. What I, a penniless hitch-hiker had done to deserve it, I do not know; but clearly the depth of Tom's feelings and attachment to me went way beyond anything I had ever appreciated when he was alive. The accountants told me that their investment department had handled Tom's fortune on his behalf and I decided to leave them to it as I had not even the vaguest idea about investments or money management in general. The only major decision I made myself was, after a few months, to sell off Just Men by Tom, the clothing chain; not that I needed the money, but I just could not face running a retail business about which I knew nothing. Tom's Gym -- those evocative words I had first read on the side of Tom's estate wagon when he picked me up all those years ago -- I decided to keep. I had been running the place for some five years and knew exactly how it worked. But more importantly, I really enjoyed running the gym and it gave me an interest in life and maintained my contact with a group of young guys whom I really liked and with some of whom I had occasional sex in an attempt to fill the gap which Tom's brutal departure absence had left in my life.

And so I went on living alone for the best part of a year, in that huge apartment, now my apartment, above the gym, which I had so happily shared with Tom for seven marvellous years. As I looked around I saw that after some seven years together, the new bed for the spare bedroom had never arrived; it had never ever been ordered and Tom had had every intention from the word go that we two would live together as equal partners and share the same bed. It was it was only now that I began to see that Tom and I had been an in-dissociable item virtually from the very first day that I had slept with him in his bed. God; how I missed having him there.

Time, it is said heals or at least eases the pain; and it is true, for although at first I thought that life without Tom would no longer be worth living, as time passed I began to face the fact that I myself was still a young man who still had a life to lead and that I should not convert myself into a latter day male equivalent of the English Queen Victoria, who mourned her late husband for half a century. And so as time passed, life gradually became a little more bearable, thanks to some of the guys from the gym who filled the gap in my sex life which Tom's death had opened.

And then one day, into the reception area of the gym walked a young man, some eighteen or twenty years old at a guess; he looked very shy, but I knew that the instant I saw him that I wanted to have sex with him. I suppose it was the nearest I would ever come to the feeling of love at first sight. It seemed to me that this attractive young hunk, which is what he really was, was made to play the role I had played with Tom at our first meeting and that I would now play the role of mentor, which Tom had played all those years ago. I felt my spirits and another, more well-defined part of my anatomy, rising just at the sight of this young man. I knew instinctively that I wanted this young man as my new partner in life and prayed that this unknown character would somehow feel the chemistry which I already felt, and would play ball. "Hi," I said, by way of a greeting, "My name is Liam; can I help you?"

THE END