Love Hour – By Andres Fragoso, Jr.

I look out the window into the pool. The slight breeze swings the tree branches. The darkness cut by lights from the pool gave the yard an eerie glow. My body tired from a long week of work. The stresses of work are getting too much for me to handle. The wife and kids problems were too much to bear anymore. I need a break. I need a vacation and do not have the time or money. I need some me time.

The soft melody of jazz plays in the background in a soft beat. The scent of juniper in the air relaxes me. I feel my fatigue slowly ebb away.

He closes in behind me, giving me a gentle hug. I pull away from him. I am unsure of what to do. He pulls me into him. I feel his hot body melding into mine for the first time. I cherish his sweet breath caressing my aching neck. His arms around my chest give a gentle squeeze. I hesitantly give in and lean back into him as I let myself relax in his strong arms. He makes me feel loved and needed.

He turns me around to face him; his gentle kiss on my lips leaves traces of his stubble and scent behind. I inhale his breath into my lungs as fish breathing water.

He takes his time taking my clothes off one item at a time. With each piece a caress and a kiss. Kisses in places that make me blush. His movements in rhythm with the music’s beat. I stand in front of him fully nude.

He takes his clothes off with the same ease exposing a sculptured and defined work from Michael Angelo himself, which David would be jealous. There is no doubt that he is a well-defined and handsome man.

We take our time caressing each other, kissing each others body, making love to each other as if it was the last night on earth. His lovemaking is that of an expert lover. He makes me feel wanted, needed and carefree. I left all thoughts of married life in the dark. For now, it is me and him and only him and me.

Moments, minutes, seconds, pass and we try not to finish too soon. I feel every inch of his body with my lips. He knows my body’s needs and wants. I am putty in his hands. His tender kisses and caresses make my body respond to him that much more. I want him. I want to be with him. I am in crazy love with this man that knows what to do with me.

The climax starts too soon. It is the final moment when mini-deaths like this are worshiped in France. This moment in time where everything you thought was real becomes a dream and the only reality at this moment is the ecstasy of being in someone’s arms and having a mini-death. I die and go to heaven. I rise in the angel’s arms. I have reached a new height like never before. In his arms, I have lived and died a mini death. Nothing in the world matters at this very moment. This is what love is. This is what companionship is all about. This is where life ends. This is where life starts anew. This is when I realize that life is worth living. This is when I cry in thankfulness that I am loved. This is when I find religion and give thanks to a god that I found a man that makes me feel alive, wanted, needed, and cared for.

I yell, ‘I love you.” The words ‘I love you’ do not mean anything. They are just words. They fall short. I meant every one of those three words. I want him to hear them. I want him to feel them. I want him.

We lay in each others arms in the glimmer of the aftermath of lovemaking. We hold on to each other for moments, caressing each other gently and lovingly. I take a deep breath and relax in his comforting arms. He pulls me into him, squeezing me tight. He is hugging me lovingly, as if he does not want me to go away.

The moment has passed. We clean ourselves from the lovemaking. We gather our clothes and get dressed. I pick up my belongings and phone and check for missed calls. No one had interrupted us. It was our moment and we enjoyed it and each other. It is time to leave.

He stands in front of me. Smiles. “That’ll be one hundred and fifty.”

I give him two hundred. “Keep the change. It was worth it.”

He kisses me on the lips and caresses my face gently with the back of his hand. He guides me through the house to the front door. He opens it and lets me through first.

As he walks me to the car, his hand is on the small of my back. At the car, he takes my keys and opens the door, gives me back the keys. Pulls me into him and gives me a long, deep penetrating kiss. A deep kiss filled with love, kindness, understanding, and compassion.

I sit in front of the steering wheel and close the door. He takes a step back as I turn the car on and leave his side. What was his name?

I look through the rear view mirror and see him disappear into the night. I inhale the evidence of our lovemaking. A scent that I will forever cherish but have to get rid of in the hotel shower. Reality hits me hard. I have to fly home tomorrow morning. I have a wife and kids. I have a job to take care of. I have his number. His absence causes me to die inside a little.

I was loved for an hour. I was loved for two hundred dollars.




Andres Fragoso Jr has been writing for over ten years, has published multiple poetry books.  He writes from the heart.

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Author: gayflashfic

Manager of Gay Flash Fiction

3 thoughts on “Love Hour – By Andres Fragoso, Jr.”

  1. ah, the utter horrors of 12 step ‘self-help’ meetings such as sexual compulsives anonymous or sexaholics anonymous, and, most importantly, perhaps, male menopause. do read the biography of the American novelist john cheever! live and let live, I guess. an shockingly explicit description of an utterly naïve, guilt-ridden man having his cake and eating it too, despite its monetary and immense spiritual expense, indeed!


  2. Pingback: Love Hour

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