Whatever Happened
 to
 Martin Bergen?
 by: Hankster

© 2021 by the author

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

hankster@tickiestories.us

I was busy fucking the life out of my trick du jour.  I should have been concentrating on giving him the most pleasure I could.  That has always been my goal with all my sex partners.  I should also have been concentrating on having the best orgasm ever.  But none of these things were on my mind.  Instead, out of the blue, I wondered whatever happened to my boyhood friend, Martin Bergen.

I hadn’t seen Marty since we graduated high school, and went to different colleges.  I’m now thirty-five, so we have been separated for a really long time, almost half our lives, as a matter of fact.  I couldn’t imagine why he suddenly sprung to life in my brain, to the exclusion of all other thoughts.  I actually began to lose my erection, and had to force myself back to reality in order to resume the task at hand.

My name is Jaden Strickland.  Marty and I go as far back as the second grade.  He was enrolled in my elementary school, when his dad was transferred to his new job in White Plains, New York.  I should say his dad was promoted to run his company’s textile plant in White Plains.  The Bergen family moved from St. Louis, Mo.  I myself was raised in the New York City area, and I could not get over that I met someone from St. Louis.  It sounded so exotic to me.

Marty and his family moved into a lovely four bedroom, colonial style house in Hartsdale, NY, a little under three miles from his plant.  The house was two doors down from mine.  When Marty entered my classroom on his first day, and Mrs. Altman, our teacher, introduced him to the class, I knew that we were going to be best friends forever.  I was too young to realize that nothing lasts forever.  How could I know that we would stop seeing each other after graduating from high school.  Marty went off to Washington University in St. Louis, and I went to The State University of New York in Albany.  He remained in St. Louis all summer long.  One of his uncles gave him a summer job.  He never came home for Christmas either, because his parents went to St. Louis to celebrate the holidays with their families.

It was only natural for Marty to go to school in St. Louis.  Both sets of his grandparents lived there, as well as lots of uncles, aunts and cousins on both sides of his family.  Before going off to college, his mother took him and his sister there for two weeks every summer, and for Christmas and New Year week.  When he could, Mr. Bergen went with them.  Marty was very close to all his cousins, but especially to Charles Bergen, who was born the same day as he was.  Their birthdays fell on July 28^th, and Marty was usually on his two week summer visit to St. Louis at that time, so we never got to celebrate his birthday together.  On the other hand I was born on August 29^th and he was always home by then, so he was able to attend my boyhood birthday parties.

The summer that Marty celebrated his eleventh birthday in St. Louis, and I was about to turn eleven in Hartsdale, he ran right over to my house as soon as he returned home.  He said that he couldn’t wait to get me alone.

“I’ve got something wonderful to tell you about,” he said.  “My cousin Charlie in St. Louis introduced me to this miracle last week.  I can’t wait to share it with you.”

He finally had an opportunity on the day after Labor Day, the first day of the new school year.  For us, it was an orientation day, and only lasted half a day.  But both sets of our parents would be at work all day.  Marty had a little sister.  She and her nanny would be home, but I was, and always will be, an only child.  We ran to my home, and right up to my bedroom. 

When we got there, Marty closed the door, and said, “You’re going to love me for this.”

“So, tell me already,” I urged him.

“Did you ever hear about whacking off?” he asked.  Some people call it jerking off, and others call it jacking off.”

“No, I never heard of it.  What about it?”

“My cousin Charlie taught me how to do it and a lot more.  It was glorious.  Would you like me to teach you.”

“Of course,” I answered.  “I wanted to experience glory also.”

“Strip off your shorts and underwear,” he commanded me. 

He got himself naked from the waist down.  I was shocked, but I complied, albeit a little slower.  He had us sit down side by side on my bed.  Our thighs touched, and I was shocked to find myself getting a “morning woodie.”   I did not know yet that there were other ways to get a woodie.

“Now watch me,” he instructed. 

I glanced down at his weenie.  He was harder than I was.  He started by peeling back his foreskin.  He said that I could skip that step because I was circumcised.  He wrapped his fist around his hard weenie, and began to stroke gently.

“Do it,” he said.  “It feels so good.”

I was already hard, and I had no trouble wrapping my small fist around my immature penis.

“Stroke it like me,” he continued to instruct me. 

I did as he asked.  It didn’t feel bad, but it certainly didn’t feel as wonderful as he had promised.  As a matter of fact, I began to lose my woodie.

“Nothing’s happening,” I informed him.

“I had the same trouble the first time,” he informed me, so Charlie did it for me, and it was a wow.”

He pushed my hand away, and began to do the honors.  How right he was.  It was a wow.

“How does it feel?” he asked.

“Like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“Wait!  The best is yet to come,” he promised me.

Suddenly, my whole body began to tingle.  Marty saw my balls shrinking, and he yelled, “It’s happening.  Don’t be frightened.”

Actually, I was frightened.  I had no idea what was happening to me.  I reached my climax and all doubt evaporated.  I shot out a very little bit of watery semen.

“That was, that was…,” I couldn’t say more.

“I know,” he said. “Now let me finish myself off, unless, of course, you want to do it for me.”

“Sure,” I said, and I wrapped my fist around his very hard penis.  We didn’t yet know all the street words to describe our weenies.

I began to stroke him, but he asked me to be gentler.  I eased my hold slightly, and I realized he was about to let loose.  “I’m cumming,” he yelled. I hadn’t learned that it was called cumming, but he did.

Amidst much whimpering, moaning and sighing, he shot out the same sticky, watery stuff.”

We both lay on my bed catching our breaths. 

“Didn’t my penis feel wonderful in your fist?,” he asked.  “Yours felt terrific in mine.  And, by the way, Charlie told me that grown men call it a cock.”

“The whole experience was wonderful,” I answered him, “but you said that you and Charlie did much more.”

“Sure,” he said with the authority of experience.  “There are lots of ways to get yourself to cum.  I’ll show you.”

He leaned over me and swallowed my little cock in his mouth.  He started to lick it, like I licked a lollipop.   My cock got harder by the nano second. 

“Please,” I begged, “don’t stop.  I’m cumming again.” 

Whatever little I had left to give, I shot into Marty’s mouth, and he drank it up.  I was shocked, but I knew I would taste it soon enough.  In fact, the next time I whacked myself off, I tasted my own cum.

When I came, Marty said, “I like this better than whacking myself off, but I’ll show you another way, that’s even better.  Roll onto your stomach.

I did as he instructed.  I was surprised that he laid his body on top of me.  He was hard again, and he lined up his cock with my asshole.  I had a suspicion about what he was up to, and I was looking forward to it.

He entered me slowly, but without any lubrication.  It didn’t matter.  Our cocks were so small, he met very little resistance.  After a very few strokes in and out, he had another orgasm.  When he pulled out of me, he said, “For me, that’s the best way.  You’ll see when you do it.”

Later, when I fucked him, I had to agree with him.

“Charlie and I did one more thing before we quit,” Marty said.  “Charlie kissed me.  He opened my mouth with his tongue and our two tongues began to tickle each other.  It was like the icing on the cake.”

So, Marty and I began to kiss with open mouths.  We kept kissing each other, and we had trouble parting.  Then we went into the bathroom and washed up.  It was the end of the best day of my life.

We got better and better as we aged.  By the time we were in high school, we were full-fledged homosexuals.  We were even able to get hold of male porn films, and we got an eyeful, and a fantastic education.  We tried everything we saw in the films.

We dated girls, of course.  We didn’t want anyone to get suspicious about us.  By now, we both knew full well, the stigma of being gay.  Actually, I didn’t care if we got exposed, but Marty was scared stiff that anyone should find out.

And then we graduated, and never saw each other again.  As I told you, Marty stayed in St. Louis all year round, and I presumed that he worked there now.  I haven’t seen my first love (my only love) in seventeen years, and suddenly the thought of him invaded my brain, while I was fucking someone else.  I was surprised.  I thought I had gotten him out of my system.

I’ve done well since I graduated college.  I continued my education at SUNY Buffalo, where I got my MBA.  I am now the CEO of a small, but rapidly growing electronics company.  I’m working on taking our company public.

I no longer live at home, of course.  I live in Manhattan in a lovely two-bedroom apartment in the east eighties.  I entertain a slew of fuck buddies there, and the place has seen its share of orgies.  I just can’t settle down and love someone.  I guess I loved Marty, and still do, to the exclusion of all others.

It was a couple of weeks before Halloween, which this year fell on a Monday.  I had planned on taking a long weekend and going to Fire Island or Provincetown before it got too cold., but I didn’t want to go alone.  I couldn’t think of anyone among my fuck buddies I cared to go with, so I cancelled all my plans, and returned to being New York City’s number one workaholic.

*****

A few weeks had passed since I had begun to think about Marty again.  I couldn’t get him out of my mind.  I imagined running into him everywhere I went.  Marty is of Swedish descent.  The last day I saw him, he still had platinum blond hair and sparkling blue eyes.  He was a hunky six footer, and probably the dream man of every gay guy in the world.

I was having lunch in a busy little coffee shop near my office, when I spotted him.  At least, I thought it was him.  What man in his thirties still has baby blond hair and an athletes body.   I was eating at the counter, but the man I thought was Marty was seated at a table with a very beautiful raven haired woman.

I decided to go over and say hello.  If it wasn’t Marty, I could say that I mistook him for somebody else, and apologize.  If it was Marty, I would be discreet, and greet him as an old friend.  I hadn’t ordered yet, and dared hope he would ask me to join them.

As I approached his table, he looked up and spotted me.  A look of sheer terror covered his face.  That told me a lot.  The man was indeed Marty, and he was in the closet.  He got himself together, stood up, and smiled at me.

“Jaden,” he said, “is that you?  Is it really you?”

We shook hands firmly, smiling at each other, not knowing what to say.  He and the woman were seated at a table for four.  Finally, he nodded at one of the empty seats, and asked me to join them.

“Sit down,” he said, “I want to introduce you to my wife, Laura.”  It was his way of telling me to be discreet.  I knew that already.  I nodded at him to let him know that he didn’t have to worry.  He got my signal, and relaxed quite a bit.

“What are you doing In New York?” I asked.  “I thought that the city fathers in St. Louis had you chained to The Gateway Arch.”

“Laura’s folks are celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary, and we came for the festivities.  She’s originally from New York, and we met at good old Washington U.  I don’t know when we’ll be returning to St. Louis.  I think that we’d both like to stay forever.”

After that, there was a horrible lull in the conversation, so to break the silence, I said, “If you’re going to be around for a while, I’d love to take you both out to dinner.  Marty, you and I can reminisce about old times.”

“Hey,” Marty said.  “How about tonight?  Laura and her folks are going to the opera.    That’s never been my thing, so I begged out.”

“Great,” I said.  I gave him my card.  He gave me his.  It had his mobile phone number on it.  I gave him the name of a fashionable restaurant on Restaurant Row, and asked him to meet me there at 7 PM.  They did indeed invite me to have lunch with them.

We began to tell Laura tales about some of the fun we had in high school.  She laughed along with us, but there was something forced about her laughter.  It struck me like a bullet between my eyes.  Laura suspected something about her husband, and my presence disturbed her.  She became even more disturbed when I told them that I was still single.  Well, I could find out tonight if she suspected him of anything.  I’d be alone with the only man I had ever loved.  I wondered if he would want to make love with me.

When we parted we gave each other a harmless, manly hug.  Laura said that it was nice to meet me, and I ran out of the restaurant.  About four in the afternoon my cell phone rang.  Marty wasn’t on my contact list, but the caller ID indicated that the call was coming from St. Louis.  I couldn’t answer quickly enough, but first I needed to catch my breath.

“Hello,” I said as calmly as I could. 

Marty was not calm at all.  He was alternately sobbing and hyperventilating.  My wife and in-laws are going out for dinner and the opera in about an hour.  I can’t wait until seven.  Could I meet you somewhere as soon as they leave.  I need to talk to you so badly.  I’m too edgy to eat dinner anyhow.”

“Okay.  I’ll give you my address.  I’ll leave the office at about 5 PM.  Take a cab, and hurry over.  I’ll pop a couple of frozen dinners in the microwave for dinner.”

“Yes, I’ll leave as soon as they do. Thank you, Jaden,” Marty said, as if I had done him a big favor.

He was actually waiting at the front entrance to my apartment building when I got home.  A key was needed to get in, or someone had to buzz you in.  His greeting was so different than the one in the restaurant.  He was smiling.  His whole face was radiant, and I could tell that he was about to grab me and kiss me.  I stopped him.

“Not here,” I said.  “There are security cameras all over the place.  Let’s get upstairs ASAP.”

As soon as we entered my apartment, Marty was all over me.  He kept kissing me and grabbing my cock.  I knew that we were about to make love, and it would be before dinner, not after.

“Why were you afraid to kiss me downstairs when you came home?” he asked me.  “There was nobody around.”

I laid it on the line.  “Because I got the feeling that your wife suspects that you are gay.  She might be able to get hold of the security tapes to use in divorce proceedings.”

“You’re way too late,” Marty said.  “She knows all about me.  She asked me not to spoil her parents anniversary party.  She’s going to start the divorce going as soon as we get home.  Then she’s moving back to New York.  She hates St. Louis.  Thank God, I have no kids. As soon as she left for the opera, I moved my personal stuff to a hotel and came right here.  But, let’s get comfortable and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Marty’s idea of getting comfortable was to strip naked so I did also.  I told him to put his clothes on my bed, then holding hands, I sat him down on the living room sofa, where I joined him.

“Talk.” I urged him.

“My uncle owns a biotechnological research lab, and I continued to work for him after I graduated college.  Obviously, I don’t do research, but I manage the business office. 

“In all the years I was married to Laura, I craved man sex obsessively, but I never weakened, and I never did anything about it.”

“What about your cousin, Charlie?” I asked.

“About the time I started college in St. Louis, he started college in San Francisco.  He told me that he felt free for the first time in his life, and he was never coming home.  We wrote for a while, but we eventually lost touch.  I’m going to contact him, and tell him about me, I mean about us.  I know he’ll be really happy.

“Then about six months ago a new researcher joined our firm.  George was young and handsome, and I really got the hots for him.  We both started to flirt shamelessly with each other.  One day, I asked him if he could stay late, and have dinner with me.  He couldn’t say yes quickly enough.  When everybody left the office, and we were alone, there were no pretenses between us.  We stripped and made love on the couch in my private office.  I cried for joy the whole time.  I called Laura and told her that I was entertaining a customer from out of town, and would be home late.  I couldn’t use that ploy every time, so I told her that I was going to play poker once a week with some of my co-workers.  She bought it, and the office sofa became my paradise.  I don’t think she cared anyway.  I wasn’t very good with her in the bedroom.  God knows how I wished I was making love to you instead of her.

“One evening the inevitable happened.  George and I were going at it, when my uncle returned to the office.  He had left his cell phone on his desk.  He caught us in the act, while I was happily fucking George.  He stormed out of the office, but summoned me into his private office the first thing the following morning..  George was there also.

“He told us that he wanted both of us to tender our resignations immediately, and he told me that he intended on telling Laura.  I packed up my desk, and went home.. I couldn’t understand something.  I wasn’t upset at all.  In fact, I felt like I was relieved of a terrible burden.  When I got home Laura knew already.  I told her I would pack some bare necessities and go to a hotel until I could figure out what I was going to do.  That’s when she asked me to wait until after the anniversary party.  She didn’t want to spoil the occasion.  She made it perfectly clear that I had to sleep in the guest room.  I never figured out why she thought I would ever want to sleep with her after all this.  You know the rest.  The rest, as they say, is history.

“She told me that she intended on moving back to New York.  I confessed to her that I had grown up in New York, and I considered it to be my home town.  I informed her that I wanted to return to new York also.  Her reaction was that I never try to contact her when we returned to the city.  As if I would.”

All I could manage to say is, “WOW!”

“Laura is staying at her folks, and my stuff is in a hotel.  If I get it tomorrow, can I stay with you until I get a job, and settle in?”

“No you can’t stay with me until you find a job.  You’ll stay with me forever.  Have you got the tiniest notion of how much I love you, of how much I’ve missed you?”

Marty started to cry.  “Stop crying,” I ordered him.  “You’ll get my bed sheets all wet.”

“I’ll try,” Marty mumbled, “I’m too happy to stop, but I’ll try.”

“Are you a good office manager?” I asked.

“I think I am.  Why do you ask?”

“Because I have a gay friend who manufactures microchips.  He’s also a customer of mine.  He buys electronic equipment from me.  His present manager is from San Diego.  He’s homesick and he just gave notice.  He wants to go home.  I had lunch with my friend the other day, and he asked if I knew somebody for the job.  I told him that I didn’t, but I’d keep my eyes open.  I’ll call him first thing in the morning.”

(I am happy to say that Marty got the job the following Wednesday.)

After I told him about my friend, and the possibility of a job, Marty started to cry again.

“I know you’re crying because you’re happy, but please try to stop.  Your crying might interfere with our love making.”

We rushed into my bedroom and fell on my bed.  Marty twisted into a sixty-nine position, but I stopped him.

“No!” I said, I’m going to do all the work the first time.  I want to transport you to paradise.  Next time, you’ll have the pleasure of doing that to me.  In the years to come, we’ll mix it up.”

I fell on top of him, and gave him a trip around the world that lasted well over an hour.  I didn’t miss an inch of him.  He was moaning and laughing and crying.  I guess I was doing a good job on him.  Finally, I went down on him and brought him to the edge.  I let him simmer down and then I fucked him.  I didn’t use a condom, and I applied as little lube as possible.  Marty came, and spilled his juices up his torso.  I came, and shot way up his gut.  When I was done.  Marty started to cry again.

“I feel liberated,” he moaned.  “Free from bondage at last.  Why did I ever think that I could live a straight life.  Thank you my darling.  I want to promise you something.  I’ll be around forever, and I promise to take good care of you.”

I don’t know what forces directed us to have lunch in the same coffee shop on the same day, but I’d like to give thanks to those forces.  It took seventeen years, but love, faith and fate brought us together again.   

I introduced Marty to my friends, and to New York’s gay night life.  He fit right in, and in a very short time, all our friends thought of us as a couple for life.

Posted: 09/17/2021