The Loneliest Night
of the Year
 by: Hankster

© 2013 by the author

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

It was New Year’s Eve.  The year 2000 was about to begin.  We had finally reached the millennium, and according to informed experts, all the computers in the world would crash at midnight.  Indeed, the world might even come to an end, since it could no longer function without computers.  Well, if the world was going to end, I wanted to be in the comfort of my own bed, and not partying in some night club.

That wasn’t very likely to happen anyway.  Rog and I never went out on New Year’s Eve.  Even when we were very young, we preferred to stay home, light a fire in the fireplace, and watch the ball drop in Times Square.  We would have a small glass of wine at midnight, and then make love in the new year, before cuddling snugly in bed, and sleeping until late the next morning.

Roger, the love of my life; now it’s more than four years since he died and left me alone, I still ache when I think of him.  He was my first love, and the only man I was ever intimate with.  I have been celibate since he died.  I could have had many men, but I’m just not interested.  I’ve resigned myself to being a fifth wheel when I go out with friends.  I must abandon humility and tell you, that even in my early sixties, I am a very handsome man.  I have been cruised often by very good looking guys, but like I said, I’m just not into sex anymore, not even lustful one night stands.  The thought of making love to anyone but Roger disturbs me.  I keep telling myself that Rog is dead, and I should seek my own happiness.  I even rationalize, and tell myself that it’s OK to compromise and ‘settle’, but I still feel nothing.

On January first of 1999, I took early retirement, and moved to South Florida the following month.  I moved from Buffalo, New York, and believe me, I appreciated that I wouldn’t be freezing my ass off that winter.  It was hard to believe that it was New Year’s Eve (my first in Florida), and the low temperature tonight was expected to be 75ºF.  It was 74ºF on Christmas Eve, practically a cold snap.  That’s really wonderful, but hard to get used to.  I suppose I will in time.

I was not lonely, and had made many good friends here.  I had several invitations to join them that night at some bar, or in someone’s home, but I had no desire to leave my recliner and my TV set.  I had already poured the glass of wine I’d toast the New Year with, if I could stay awake that long.  I put out some cheese and crackers on the coffee table and turned on the TV.  It was exactly 6 PM, and I found an old, sappy, holiday movie.  I don’t know how many times some character in it said, “Nobody should be alone on New Year’s Eve.”

At first I paid no attention, but after awhile I began to imagine that the character who said those words looked like Roger, my Rog.  I concentrated harder on the screen, and sure enough the actor did not resemble Rog.  He was Rog.  I rubbed my eyes.  I needed to make sure I saw what I saw.

Suddenly, there was a commercial running.  In fact, the commercials never ended.  I switched from channel to channel and all I could get were commercials.  I even switched to PBS and even they were showing nothing but commercials.  That’s impossible.  I grew truly frightened.

It occurred to me that maybe it wasn’t a good idea to be alone on New Year’s Eve after all.  Maybe I was going stir crazy.  It was then I made the boldest decision of my life.  I showered, dressed as sexily as I could, and left my apartment on the most dangerous night of the year.  Or was it the loneliest night of the year?  Or was it both?  I headed to Charlie’s, a nearby gay bar, where I knew some of my friends were having dinner and spending the evening.

I spotted four of my friends at a table in the dining room.  They were coupled, but there was a fifth man with them, and they were seated at a table for six.  Kevin spotted me and waved at me.

“Where the hell have you been?  We were afraid you weren’t going to show up, and we were about to order.  Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

I was stunned.  I had never agreed to have dinner here with these men, and for sure my phone hadn’t rung.  Once again I chalked it up to being stir crazy, and I was suddenly glad to be out socializing, and not alone on New Year’s Eve.

“I got a whole slew of calls from friends in Buffalo,” I lied.  “I guess I lost track of the time, but here I am at last.”  I flashed my gorgeous smile which always made everything all right. 

I sat down next to the stranger and Kevin said, “Greg, I’d like you to meet my friend Jason.  He’s visiting from Columbus, but he hopes to be moving down here before the end of 2000.”  Jason and I shook hands, and I gave him the once over.  I couldn’t tell how tall he was because we were both seated, but our eyes were level, so I figured that he was about my height, 5’11” tall.  His eyes were dark brown.  Mine are a lighter brown.  We both had salt and pepper hair (once brown) and strong chins.  Jason had a pleasant, friendly face and I liked him immediately.  I think he liked me too because he directed all his attention to me.

He asked me about myself, and for the first time in four years I had no trouble talking about myself, and of course, about Roger.  Instead of getting teary, my body grew warm and happy, remembering back to all the good and bad times we had together in thirty-five years, and how much I had loved him.  This prompted me to ask Jason to tell me something about himself.

“I’m a widower too,” he said.  “It’s funny.  His name was Greg also.  We weren’t together as long as you and Roger, only twenty-one years.  Nevertheless, we were wildly in love.  On his fiftieth birthday, I took him out for a celebration dinner.  In the middle of the entree he just keeled over and died.  He had had a massive heart attack.  I found out later on that he had suffered degenerative heart disease since he was a youngster.  He never told me.  I guess he didn’t want me to worry.” 

There were tears in Jason’s eyes.  I was very moved, and without thinking, I put my hand on his.  He looked up and stared into my eyes.  We found ourselves smiling at each other.

“You have a beautiful smile,” he said.  Then looking down at my hand on his, he said, “Thanks for comforting me.”

All I could do was smile back at him.  We were oblivious to the other people at the table until Eddie, Kevin’s partner, yelled, “Hey you two, break it up.  The waiter is trying to take your order.”

Eddie kept on yelling and I heard a pounding in my head.  No it wasn’t in my head; it was my front door.  Eddie was pounding on it, and now he was yelling, “Greg, are you OK?  You’re scaring me.  Please answer me.”

I was seated in front of my TV.  I had fallen asleep and dreamt the whole New Year’s Eve scene.  I ran to the front door completely forgetting that I was totally naked.  I threw open the door, and Kevin and Eddie, Trevor and Ryan, rushed in, and immediately started laughing.  It was Ryan who said, “That’s a nice package you’ve got there.”

I wanted to reach for my robe, but by that time it was not necessary.  The Narcissus in me was flattered by the appreciative stares I was getting.  Foolishly I looked to see if Jason was with them.  Of course not.

“To what do I owe the pleasure,” I asked.

“To friendship, and well-meaning, but pesky friends,” Trevor said.

“We aren’t going to leave you alone on New Year’s Eve,” Kevin added.  “You have no choice in the matter.  Now put on a jock strap, and let’s get out of here.  We’re going to Charlie’s for dinner.  I made the reservations.”

“As much as I’d like to go in a jock strap, do you mind if I get dressed?”

My friends were all wearing long jeans. This was my first winter in Florida.  I was used to the sub-freezing Buffalo weather.  They all thought I was crazy when I put on shorts and a tank top and, as I left the apartment, I slipped into flip-flops. 

“I hope you don’t freeze, “Kevin said, “especially since you didn’t even put on underwear.”

“I gave up underwear, or I should say long-johns, when I left Buffalo.  By the way, thank you.  I should have said yes about going out in the first place.” 

One of them slapped me on the back.  I don’t know which one.  “That’s what friends are for,” he said.

We lived walking distance to the restaurant.  I was glad to walk.  I could not get enough of this weather.  Reservations or not, we had to wait forty-five minutes for our table.  We headed for the bar.  There were no bar stools available, so after we got our drinks, we huddled together in the lobby waiting for our table to be ready.

I thought I heard my name being called, but it was so noisy I couldn’t be certain.  I heard it again, louder this time.  I looked around and I saw who was calling me.  It was Jason from my dream, but of course it wasn’t Jason.  It was Jeremy Smith.  In my former life I had taught American History at the University of Buffalo, and Jeremy was one of my colleagues.  He was a couple of year’s younger than I.  We were friendly enough at school, but we never socialized.  I didn’t have a clue that he was gay.

When he finally got to me, he embraced me in a bear hug.  “I had no idea you were gay,” he said, “or are you just slumming?”

“I’m not slumming,” I said.  “I had no idea that you were gay.  I’m having dinner here with some friends.  Let me introduce you.”

Now you have to know Kevin.  He’s a hopeless romantic.  He and Eddie are always trying to fix me up.  Trevor and Ryan are content to let me be, and I appreciate it.  When I introduced Kevin to Jeremy, I could see hearts being reflected in Kevin’s eyes.

“Nice to meet you, he said to Jeremy.  Are you here alone?”

“Yes, I’m unhappily alone.  I taught history with Greg at UB.  I’m down here on winter break.  I hate the thought of going back.  Buffalo had another six inches last night.  I’ve got three years until retirement and then I hope to join you guys.”

“Do you have plans for dinner?” Kevin persisted.

“I figured I’d do fast food.  I hate to eat alone.”

“Nonsense, have dinner with us.  They’ll probably put us at a table for six anyway, so I’m sure it’s not a problem.  I’ll go tell the maitre d’.”  I was suddenly very uncomfortable.  I liked Jeremy.  He was very handsome, but I didn’t like Kevin’s not so subtle attempt at matchmaking.  I wasn’t ready for it, and I never would be. 

“So there.”  I hadn’t realized that I said that out loud and everybody was staring at me.

“What?” Ryan asked.

“Nothing,” I laughed.  “Just day dreaming.” 

I turned to Jeremy.  “Where are you staying, and when are you returning to Buffalo?” I asked.  Then I realized he might think I was hoping he would leave soon, and that I didn’t want to see him again, so I quickly added, “Do we have time to get together, and reminisce before you leave?”  I didn’t imagine it, Jeremy did look relieved.

“Classes resume on January14th,” he said.  “I’m flying home on the thirteenth.”

“That’s too long to stay in a lonely hotel room.  Why don’t you move in with me tomorrow, Jeremy?  I have a guest room with a private bath, and I won’t charge,”  I smiled at him.  To this day I don’t know why I offered Jeremy the invitation.  I hate having strangers and guests in my house.  I feel like I have given up my privacy when that happens.

Jeremy took my hand, much the same as I had taken Jason’s in my dream, and suddenly I was glad I had tendered the invitation.  “That is so generous of you.  Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” I smiled back at him.  “In fact, we all live in the same building, walking distance from here.  Come back with me tonight, and tomorrow I’ll drive you over to the hotel to check you out.”

“That would be wonderful,” he said.  He smiled at me and I conceded that his smile was even more winning than mine.  Something strange was happening to me.

Just before midnight, we filled our champagne glasses and stood up.  We knew that we would all be kissing each other at midnight and we were just getting ready.  The whole restaurant started chanting the countdown at number ten.  At midnight, we all yelled, “Happy New Year” and took a sip of our champagne.  We laid our glasses on the table and went around kissing each other.  I kissed everyone chastely, even though it was on the lips.  And then Jeremy and I stood staring at each other.  I bent in to kiss him, but he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me to him. 

“This is the happiest new Year’s Eve of my life,” he whispered in my ear.  He put his lips against mine, and began to kiss me passionately.  His tongue parted my lips, and the moment that I began to tickle his tongue with mine, I could feel our stiff cocks rubbing hard against each other.  I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I was going to get laid that night after a four year drought.  I was to find out some hours later that I didn’t get laid.  I got loved.

By the time we reached my apartment, about two in the morning, Jeremy knew everything I could tell him about Roger.  He told me that he had been in a few relationships in his life.  None of them had lasted very long, and the one true love that he always dreamed of still eluded him.

Neither of us were big drinkers, and we hadn’t overdone it at the restaurant.  I poured both of us a glass of red wine and we sat down on my sofa.  At first there was an uncomfortable silence between us.  I finally said, “I had no idea you were gay.  As far as I was concerned, you were as straight as the proverbial arrow.”

“Me too, I’m still shocked to find out that you aren’t straight.  You always talked in the plural…we did this…we did that, and I thought you were married.”

“I was married in every sense of the word, but not to a woman.  If Rog was alive, and we were still living in Buffalo, we could get legally married now.”

“Would you?”

“I don’t know.  I’d probably leave it up to Rog.  I was 100% committed to him.  A Justice of the Peace couldn’t improve on that number.”

We grew quiet again.  This time Jeremy broke the ice.  “Since the day I met you,” he began, “I’ve had the hots for you.  I should never have accepted your invitation.  Right now, I’m fighting the urge to pounce on you and devour you with my kisses and my love.  Greg, I’m scared.”

I was truly not surprised by his confession.  Suddenly all my resolves to stay celibate and honor Roger’s memory were sucked up by some powerful cosmic vacuum cleaner.  I was tired of jacking off.  I wanted to have sex with a warm body, and sitting alone with me was a willing partner who admitted to desiring me.  Neither of us had said or thought about the word ‘love’ yet.

“Don’t be scared,” I begged Jeremy.  I put my arms around him and offered him my lips.

“Is this your answer?  Is this your final answer?” he asked jokingly.

“It is,” I said, and I forced my tongue into his willing mouth.  We kissed for what seemed, at the time, to be forever.  Our hands groped our crotches and we had to stop kissing long enough to drop our trousers.  Neither one of us was wearing underwear.  I was holding him so tightly, I didn’t realize that he wanted me to release him.  Finally he was able to push me away.  Before I could react, his mouth was buried in my crotch.  He was bathing me in very wet comfort.

His educated tongue was all over my pubic area, my balls, and finally my cock.  It had been so long since I had felt such passion in me and in my partner.  I was about to tell Jeremy to turn around so we could play 69, but it was too late.  I was past the point of no return.  All I could yell was, “I’m cuuumming.”   Jeremy sucked me dry and finally sat next to me on the sofa.  We were both breathing hard.

When I could breathe again, I said, “I want to suck your cock Jeremy, but  stop me before you cum.  I don’t have condoms, but I don’t care.  Just unload inside of me and fill my guts.”

“Don’t think ill of me, but I always carry condoms in my pocket.  It’s an act of wishful thinking.  They are so old, I hope they don’t split.”

I started to laugh.  “Are you telling me that it’s been a very long time for you too?”  Jeremy nodded.  “Well then maybe we can skip the condoms, if you have always used them in the distant past.”  We both laughed.  Jeremy was still laughing when I leaned over and started to suck his succulent cock.  He stopped me a lot sooner than I would have liked.  I went to the bathroom and got a jar of Vaseline.  I greased his cock generously and then I greased my ass.  While I was doing all this, I studied his beautiful, cut, eight inch cock.  It had been about five inches before he hardened.  I am about the same size, but I am uncut.  I don’t have a lot of foreskin.  The head of my penis peeps out of its sheathe when it is flaccid.

We were ready now.  I stretched out on my sofa, flat on my back.  When Jeremy climbed on top of me, we started to kiss.  We kissed so long, we almost forgot our ultimate mission.  Finally Jeremy placed his cock at the opening of my love canal, but he didn’t move.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I’m waiting for you to tell me when you’re ready.”

“I’m ready.  I am so ready.”  It had been so long, I feared that he might hurt me.  Foolish me.  Roger had been just as long as Jeremy, but he was much wider around.  I was well stretched, and to my delight, I hadn’t shrunk.  Jeremy entered me easily.  In fact, after he was all the way in, I had to flex my ass to make it good and tight for him.  I guess I did well.  He started to groan and moan.  Suddenly his moaning gave way to a blood curdling scream, and I felt him deposit his seed high up my guts.

“I’m glad we didn’t use a rubber,” I said.

Finally he fell out of me, and I suggested we shower.

“Before we shower, I’ve got to say it.  I love you Greg.  I’ve loved you since I met you in Buffalo too many years ago.  I don’t expect you to love me as much as I love you.  I realize that you will never stop loving Roger, but can you love me enough to share your life with me?  Surely meeting you like this in a distant place, after so many years, is a good omen.”

I was dumbstruck, but not so much that I couldn’t think straight.  I knew for sure, after making love to Jeremy, that I didn’t want to be a hermit anymore.  I didn’t want to sleep alone anymore.  I wanted love, I needed love.  My matchmaking friends were in for one hell of a surprise.

“Yes, yes,” I answered.  “I do want to share my life with you.  I want that very much.”

“Then I think we should shower together.”

For the next three years, I spent my summers in Buffalo with Jeremy.  I even managed to teach some summer courses at the university.  He came down to Florida on every school break.  Our frequent separations would have been hard to take, but we knew we would be together soon…forever, and we were able to bear it.

The longest and loneliest night of the year had come and gone, and I was no longer lonely.  I truly think Roger had a lot to do with that, and if his love for me carried any merit with the gods that be, I was destined never to spend another New Year’s Eve alone again.

Posted: 01/04/13