I met Sean at a lonely period in my life. It seemed, somehow, serendipitous because both our lives changed. “I get it; you’re not interested. So, who ARE you interested in?” I asked an attractive blonde with an ‘I’m slumming’ expression on his face. You know, the kind of guy who looks like Owen Wilson but talks like Cyndi Lauper?”Him,” the Owen-look-alike said and pointed to Gerald, currently captivated by a go-go boy.”Him?” I asked incredulously. I immediately compared myself to Gerald, unsuccessfully. I didn’t want to admit it, but if I didn’t think of Gerald as a brother, I would throw myself at him like a pair of panties.He smoldered with little preparation. With animal magnetism, he drew men and women toward him with rugged, mature expressions—the kind of expressions that perpetually asked, “What?” or “Seriously?” But his personality, so positive and convivial, combined with immense empathy, to make him irresistible. Yet, the most attractive thing about Gerald was that he didn’t have an ego. He was approachable, amiable—the kind of guy who speaks to anyone, anywhere. So, when the Owen Wilson-look-alike chose Gerald as his object of lust, I really wasn’t as jealous as I pretended.”Yep,” the faux Owen said, “he’s hot.”His composure annoyed me. So, to get at him, I said, “He’s old enough to be your fuckin’ grandfather,” and folded my arms in satisfaction.”So are you,” he said.Stunned, I staggered to the bar. “Shithead,” I hissed.”Now, now,” Bob, the bartender, warned. “You wouldn’t Haramidere escort come here if you didn’t like fuckin’ down little numbers like that.””You saw, huh?” I asked.Bob nodded while preparing two shots for me and one for himself. He knew me so well.“Don’t spare my feelings, you prick,” I said after throwing back one shot and feeling the burn. “But you’re right, Bob,” I said.We toasted each other, and before throwing back our shots, we said in unison, “Fuck him!” Bob knew how to remind me not take myself so seriously.After checking with Gerald, now talking to that blonde who verbally kicked me in the nuts; I glowed with embarrassment, settled-up with Bob, and headed into the arctic air of Chicago. Normally, I would take a taxi on such cock-shrinking nights, but I was still smarting from the truth of the Owen Wilson look-a-like.Walking along the icy sidewalk, I slipped here and there in boots not meant for snow; and replaying the insult, I almost missed the barely audible plea.”Hey,” a rusty voice echoed softly in the empty alley. “You got any food?”I was used to the bite from homeless guys, but this guy didn’t ask for money and didn’t give me a story.I’m not feeling so good,” he said, leaning against a wall, “but I think I’d feel a lot better, if you give me some food.”I didn’t respond for a few beats, because I was skeptical.You got any?” he asked and fell to the alley floor, creating a large snowy plume.********He woke with more than İkitelli escort bayan a start. Had I weaved instead of bobbed, I would have caught a nasty shot to the head.”Easy, big fella; just a man bearing food,” I said.”Water,” the stranger said, weakly.”What was that?” I said, assuming he was sick from bad drugs or something.”WATER!””Give that man some water,” I said a bit loudly, because secretly, he scared the piss out of me.After drinking a third glass, his breathing slowed and his concern asked, “Where?””My place,” I said as disarmingly as possible (I remembered his almost connecting with my head).”What happened?” he asked between gulps.”You passed out.””When?” he asked and took another glass from me.”Oh, about two hours ago—Listen, I have some questions of my own,” I said.”Sure, but can I have some more water?” he said and handed me the glass. I remembered my manners and smiled, he smiled too. It made me a little less concerned.He looked to be in his late thirties, but life had bent his six-plus frame. His stringy and matted hair, mostly light brown, had strands that were casualties of the sun. Every inch of him needed a good scrub. His large frame, hosting homeless-inspired muscles, was stuffed in a grimy sweat shirt under a thin jacket. He wore jeans so small that I clearly saw his large cock. Strangely, despite his illness, his light brown eyes were surprisingly clear, and his habit of looking into my eyes when he spoke made me act Escort Çapa shy.”I think I can eat a little of that food,” he said with a weak smile and deep dimples that appeared and disappeared.I found it difficult to help without hurting his feelings, because there was so much that he needed. But I had a plan:”While you finish up the food, I’m gonna find you some clothes and run a bath. After that, I’m gonna tackle that hair and–“”Hold on. Don’t go changing me!” he said with a half-hearted chuckle. “Look, man, I appreciate anything you can do, but let’s go easy, huh?””Easy,” I said and stared intently at his cock’s imprint.After hungrily eating the food and drinking more glasses of water, he finally relented. “I’ll take that bath, if you don’t mind.”I helped him to the steamy tub and slowly lowered him. “So, what’s your name?” I asked, while swabbing his back.”Sean. Sean Anderson,” he said in a low voice.“Nice to meet you, Sean. I’m Josh Tanner,” I said and we shook soapy hands.”Why Chicago?” I asked as I moved around to his chest and middle. “No offense, but there are less hostile places to be homeless.”He rubbed his soapy beard and ignored that I had submerged the washcloth to his crotch. Gently swabbing his cock and ball sac, I felt him grow firm, and I grew along with him. He pointed out, “I didn’t plan on being homelessness, but who does, huh?”I burned with embarrassment, but he let me off the hook.Grabbing my arm with a soapy hand to push it farther into his crotch, he said in a seductive whisper, “But I do rely on the kindness of strangers.”His cock was amazingly large; I saw its triple-barrel perfection with Braille.”Mmm, are you taking advantage of me?” he asked with glossy eyes that stared the truth out of me.”I hope so, or I’m doing it wrong,” I said in intoxicating lust.