Captain Velvet's Velvet Box

The way Ross Rand gained his unexpected fame happened by accident, a pure coincidence of fate he’d never expected, not in his wildest dreams. He couldn’t have planned it if he’d tried. He’d never been considered overly ambitious, and no one would have referred to him as the aggressive type. Yet, in spite of all this, he wound up obtaining a level of celebrity—and some fortune—few people are ever able to achieve.
He was only twenty—two years old by the time all this happened, a recent college graduate living in a rented Manhattan studio apartment, working as a junior sales rep for a large advertising agency. People described him as slim and athletic, with short, reddish brown hair parted perfectly on the right. His small, straight nose and strong, dimpled chin suggested true Yankee origin. He wore preppy white shirts and casual khaki slacks and took pride in the fact he had always blended into a crowd without being noticed.
It’s not that he was shy or had serious inhibitions. He simply didn’t have the ambition to be anything other than a normal guy living a normal life. And right after college, it hadn’t occurred yet to Ross that he’d been blessed with a superhuman gift, a type of sensual magic, which could bring any man to his knees, begging for more.
The night he finally realized he was different from other men; he was in bed with a guy he’d met at a downtown bar. He’d just lost his virginity to a thirty-year-old Italian guy, Bruno from Brooklyn, with jet black hair and large muscles bulging all over his olive-skinned body. Though Bruno from Brooklyn pronounced his TH’s as D’s, and every sentence included the F-word, Ross had liked the way he’d spread his legs wide and hiked up his jeans when he’d sat down at the barstool earlier that evening.
Ross loved one thing most of all about Bruno. He leaned toward being obnoxious in some ways, a real butch type who smoked and drank beer straight from the bottle. The night they first met, Bruno wasted no time placing his massive palm aggressively on the small of Ross’s back in front of all the other guys in the bar. He wanted them to know that Ross belonged to him, and to make it clear to Ross in no uncertain terms that he would always be the aggressor. Though Ross wasn’t effeminate, he clearly was the placid, fair-haired type most dark, forceful guys prefer. Some would have considered him submissive at a glance.
The lines were clearly drawn from the start: Bruno from Brooklyn had a wife, two children, and a full-time job as a New York firefighter. He was only looking for some fun and games on the down low and was only interested in quick sex with guys who had great asses. For all Ross knew, he could have been bisexual, not gay. This was fine with Ross, still a virgin in more ways than one. He only wanted to gain some experience and wasn’t about to transform Bruno into the love of his life. Though Ross loved romance and fantasy, he had a serious pragmatic side. And he knew there was no use trying to change someone like Bruno, who was already set in his ways for life.