I first met Tom and Harry at the beach at the bottom of Denman Street in the West End of Vancouver. I live in a high-rise nearby. I was on my way home form a work-out at the gym, and was taking a breather, sitting on the lawns with my gym bag, watching the race go by - the human race. Tom and Harry were among the racers.

They were making their way along the beach, on the lawns parallel to the path which led to Stanley Park. They were about fifty feet apart, flipping a frisbee back and forth between them, both in jeans, T-shirts, and runners. I was much more comfortable in loose silk gym shorts and singlet. I presumed they were old friends. As I found out later, they had only just met, when Tom, who owned the frisbee, invited Harry to play.

Until then, they were complete strangers to me, two handsome, macho young blonde guys, tossing a frisbee. The boy closer to me leapt for the incoming frisbee, but missed. It sailed past him, directly to me where I sat on the beach. I caught it easily, stood, and flicked it underarm to the guy furthest away. He caught it and returned it to his friend, but it curved at the last minute and again came right to me.

The closer blonde laughed.

"It seems to like you," he joked. "Want to join us for a bit?"

I was in no hurry to get home. I didn't feel like cooking, and I wasn't hungry yet, anyway. So I joined them there on the lawns, flicking the frisbee back and forth between us. We got some dirty looks from some of the old-timers hobbling along the path for their early evening walk, but we didn't care. We were taking care not to bump anyone or hit them with the frisbee.

Our game got pretty brisk, and we all three worked up a bit of a sweat, and eventually called it quits and flopped on the grass by my gym bag.

"Hey, I'm Tom," said the blonder boy as he sprawled on the grass, stretching out his hand, first to the second blonde boy, then to me. It was when the second guy introduced himself as Harry, first to Tom, and then to me, that I realized they had only just met.

"I'm Richard," I told them. "You can call me Dick, if you want, then we would be Tom, Dick, and Harry." We joked a little about the coincidence.

Both of then were about the same age - 19 or 20, I'd guess, two or three years younger than me.

There was a water fountain nearby, but I said,

"Looks like you guys have worked up a thirst. Feel like a nice cold beer? My apartment is just a block away."

I wasn't trying to pick them up or anything. I'm not into guys. Well, I'm not really into girls, either. I've never found one that I really like, although my Spanish mamma is always nagging me to find a nice girl and get married.

"That sounds good right now," said Tom.

"Sure does," agreed Harry. So we made my way back to my apartment, a two-bedroom, up on the seventh floor, on the side that faces only other apartment buildings - no view. View was beyond my price range. I brought them in, threw my gym bag carelessly into the living room area, and grabbed us each a cold beer from the fridge in the kitchen.

"Nice apartment," Harry commented, "Can I have a look around?"

Sure," I said, and showed them the spare bedroom, which had only a bare queen-size bed, an old chest of drawers, a narrow closet, and some of my junk in it. I told them I was looking to rent this bedroom out to the right guy or guys. They both seemed interested.

"I'm living in a crummy basement room," said Harry.

"And I'm stuck at the YMCA," added Tom.

The air conditioning was not on, so it was fairly warm in the apartment. I opened the sliding doors to the balcony to let some air in, but drew the light drapes to keep out the glare of the afternoon sun bouncing off the other buildings. I stripped off my singlet, dropping it on the low leather bench.

Tom noticed a punching bag on a stand which I had set up in one corner of the living room.

"Hey, you box?" he cried. "So do I, sort of. I used to be on my school boxing team."

"Another co-incidence," Harry added. "Me, too."

I had two pairs of training gloves, not the lace-up kind, the ones with velcro strips, the type you use for punching bags and shadow boxing. I pulled them out of my gym bag, and flipped them to the boys. They both pulled on a pair and made some feinting moves at each other and took turns at tapping away at the bag. They were soon both even sweatier than before.

"Get comfortable," I suggested. "Take your shirts off."

But Tom went one step further than that, he took off his shirt, then his shoes and socks and jeans as well. He was wearing black silk boxers underneath, and when he walked, you could see his ample meat wobble beneath the cloth - not that I'm into guys' cocks, or anything, but you could hardly fail to notice.

Following Tom's lead, Harry decided to get game also. But he was wearing white Calvin Klein briefs, so there was no wobbly meat, just a large bulge where his cock and balls pressed forward.

They put the gloves on again and sparred a little more, until Harry said, "Hey, Richard, you take Tom on." He drew off the gloves and flipped them toward me, and took my place on the widow bench, watching us. I did notice his eyes were more on Tom's swinging dick than on our stabs and parries and punches. I didn't think too much about it. These two weren't gay, not like the fairies further up Davie, or the flamers which came into my father's Spanish restaurant in the Village, where I was Maitre'd. I hated it when those guys hit on me. Just because we work in the Village doesn't mean we are gay. And I'm not gay!

"Ok, that's enough," panted Tom. "That's a TKO for you. I'm out!" He pulled off his gloves and dropped them back into my gym bag. Still gloved, I sat alongside Harry on the bench.

"Hey, nice view," admired Harry. He was not looking out the window, but staring straight at Tom's crotch. Tom had a hard-on and the knob of his cut cock was sticking out of the leg of his silk boxers.

Embarrassed, Tom popped it back in, but Harry dropped to the floor in front of him. He reached into Tom's shorts and drew out the hard cock.

I wanted to look away, but I couldn't.

"Hey, guys," I protested, "let's not get carried away here..."

But Tom was into this, too.

"It's OK," he said. "I don't mind. It's kinda fun.

When Harry took the head of Tom's dick in his mouth and began to suck it, I protested once more.

"Stop it! I think that's disgusting!" I complained.

Harry took his mouth from Tom's dick to point out:

"You cock doesn't think it's disgusting. It's enjoying the sight." He nodded at my crotch. He was right! My dick was rock hard and poking out the leg of my shorts, just as Tom's had done. Harry left his administrations to Tom's dick, slid round and bent his mouth to my cock. He took it in his mouth.

No-one had ever sucked my dick before, let alone a guy! It was amazing! It was wonderful! As Harry sucked on my dick and Tom watched, his own dick sticking out of his pants, I began to wonder what it would be like to suck a guy's cock.

I didn't have to wait long to find out. Tom moved in behind Harry, straddling his back and forcing me to open my legs even wider. His cock projected forward, straight toward my face. Without even thinking, I opened my mouth and took his knob in. My lips closed around his shaft. My tongue explored the velvety texture of his dick-head. This too, was something unexpected. I thoroughly liked having his dick in my mouth. I enjoyed the salty taste of a drop of pre-cum which escaped from the lips of his cock-hole.

As Tom pumped at my mouth with his dick, down below in my crotch Harry was sucking and slurping and pumping away with his mouth on my rod. It was too much for me. With my mouth full of Tom's dick, I didn't even have time to warn Harry before my juice pumped into his mouth. He didn't seem to mind, but just sucked it down. So when Tom's cock began to explode into my mouth, I did the same. I swallowed his cum, taking it straight down my throat. There was enough cum left in my mouth to let me savor and test the taste of another man's jizz.

They backed off me. Only Harry had not cum, but he pulled out his dick and began jerking off. Tom reached out and took over the task. I was fascinated. "Let me try," I asked, and took Harry's dick in hand, the first time I had ever held another man's dick. All sorts of firsts for me this day.

But no-one jerks a guy of like himself. Harry took over, and quickly beat himself of into his own cupped hand. He lifted it to his mouth and sucked it down, then licked his hand clean. "Yum," he said.

I was amazed that I was not disgusted at any of this; astounded that I had actually enjoyed it.

"I'd better get going," said Tom. He gathered his clothes and began to dress.

"Me, too," agreed Harry, also dressing.

"That was fun," suggested Tom. "We should get together again,"

"Right," agreed Harry.

"Yes," I also agreed. We exchanged phone numbers. They left.

I hope they'll come back soon.

Don't get me wrong! I'm not gay ... I don't think ...

I just love boxers - especially black, silk ones on young blonde guys ...

(You can find Part Two HERE)

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