Last instalment guys. Bugger all sex in this one, but the closure of this fascinating chapter in my life.
Thanks for reading and as always, I look forward to your feed back.
Lachlan Williams - tempus-fugit@windowslive.com
Before George jumped out of the car, I slipped a ring into his hand. Telling him that it represents my heart, he tried to refuse it at first. I told him it was a small trinket and to just take it. It would suit him better than me. He took it, put it on his thumb and left.
I got back to Auckland and continued on with life. I had a doctors appointment on the following Thursday and was speaking to George on a regular basis, two or three times a day. I had told him about my appointment and he had asked me to give him a call before I went, so I did. En route to the doctors rooms, I gave him a call, quite nervous about the appointment itself. As soon as he answered, my fear and anxiety melted away.
However, that didn't last long. He had done some thinking, and wasn't sure he was comfortable having a boyfriend. Having more experience, I told him that was fine and if he wanted, we could call it off, slow things down. He agreed with this and apologised for dicking me around. I didn't realise then that it was going to be such a slippery and windy road from there on.
I went to my appointment, not entirely happy, thoroughly anxious and terrified. And of course got the worst news possible. Cancer. FUCK!
All throughout the appointment I wasn't paying attention to what my doctor was saying, instead staring off into space with a sense of doom. After a few minutes, I climbed into the car and stared at my phone for several minutes before sending George a text message telling him what I had just found out. I started the car and drove aimlessly around Auckland, trying to find somewhere quiet and private I could pull over and cry my heart out.
He called me about ten minutes after getting my message and I lost control. I was crying like I'd never cried before, sobbing into the phone. I pulled over and tried as best I could to speak with him. He was speechless but kept telling me he was sorry, and that he loved me. I don't think I heard much of what he said.
I went home and cried for the rest of the day, hiding in my bedroom and finally succumbing to sleep.
The next day I was marginally better. George called to see how I was and said that he wanted to visit Auckland the following week. So we organised a bus for him to come up.
Like the first time, I wasn't expecting anything. A visit from a friend.
My sister and I went to pick him up from the bus depot. We watched the bus roll in to the depot and saw George, smiling like a madman nearer the back of the bus, waving frantically. I couldn't help but smile.
He jumped off the bus in a flurry and marched quickly over to us and before I had a chance to say hello, he had his arms around my neck hugging me tightly and kissed me on the cheek.
"God I missed you." He said smiling at me.
"I missed you too." I said as he gave my sister a hug as well.
We jumped into the car and made our way back home, stopping firstly at a supermarket to get some wine. Heh.
When we got back to my place, we secreted off to my bedroom with the wine, a few DVD's and made ourselves comfortable on a few beanbags. I threw a duvet over us to keep us warm and settled down to watch the movie.
George was rustling around on the beanbag and I was quite sure what he was doing. His hand had managed to work its way over to my leg, and found my knee. Odd.
We sat in silence as he fondled my knee, till I found the courage to hold his hand.
He looked over to me and said quietly, "I love being with you. I'm so comfortable."
"I feel the same way, but I truly wasn't expecting this." I responded nodding to his hand on my knee.
"It just feels right." He said.
Well, that wasn't enough apparently. He had me on the bed, naked and impaled on his rigid cock, slamming ruthlessly into my depths. Bliss. Sheer bliss. Over and over he banged away at me, riding me to the end of ecstasy. I had never been fucked that well for such a long time. Time and time again he bottomed out in my entrance, while holding onto my waist, my face buried in the pillow moaning senselessly. He gave over to his beastial nature and fucked me good, long and hard.
Lying on our sides, still gasping, I looked into his eyes and felt my soul shattering. I knew that come the time he calls it all off, it's going to be too late for me. He reached over and ran his thumb across my brow. I saw the glint of silver from the ring I had given him. Like that ring, my heart now belonged to him.
We spent most of the next few days hidden in my bedroom, falling into that awful cycle again. I had found someone worthy to wear Rama's ring, who then said he wasn't comfortable dating another man, and then on his next visit treated me like his boyfriend. I felt the strings being tugged, pulled, yanked. I should have felt used, but he made me feel so naturally happy about it all. I should have put a stop to it.
George decided he wanted to go kayaking, as we have a private boat ramp into the Manukau Harbour. I raced back into the house to get something and came back as George was sitting on the boat ramp. As I stood behind him he said he had slipped and cut his foot. He said to think nothing of it so we went for our kayak.
Afterward, in the shower, I had a good look at his foot. There was a good 5 inch long cut along the bottom of his foot, about half a centimetre deep. It looked horrible. There was a piece of something in it and he dug around for a few minutes trying to get it out. No luck.
So we went to a medical centre to see if someone could look at it. The nurse dug around for nearly half an hour, all the while George grimacing in pain, crushing my hand as the nurse did her best to dig out the foreign object. Eventually she managed to get it out and George was much happier and relaxed. It was painful watching him in that position, pained. It broke my heart seeing him hurt.
We went out for dinner that night. A thoroughly enjoyable experience. We went to a pub nearby and even there he treated me like his boyfriend. Holding my hand, fondling my knee while we ate, cuddled up to me in the booth. I was getting more and more confused.
Later that evening we went to a gay bar in town where they were having a Karaoke night. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, but certainly not what happened.
From the moment we walked into the place, George barely let me go. He was either holding my hand, had his hand on my knee, in my pocket or had his arm around my shoulder or back. On several occasions, patrons would wander up to George and start chatting him up. I couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed by this, but remembering that George wasn't my boyfriend, I tried to back off as best I could. Until George would reach out for me and say that he was here "with his man." That made me feel unbelievably happy, but also utterly used.
Throughout the evening, we had a few drinks and George became much looser, and began kissing and fondling me in plain sight of everyone. I think he even managed to get his hand through my fly at one point and was boning me up in the middle of the club.
We got home a couple hours later and carried on drinking. Being exhausted and drunk, we both fell asleep rather quickly.
The next evening we went to the movies and again, he treated me like his boyfriend again, holding my hand in the foyer, standing insanely close to me, pecking me on the lips briefly. Then in the movie theatre, he barely let my hand go.
When we got home that night, we were both too drunk to fuck. So we fell asleep, again.
I woke him up the next morning, in the best manner I know. I was between his legs, lapping at his balls, through his pubic hair and up his shaft. I ran my tongue over and around his bell end, and then took the rigid shaft into my mouth and sucked for all I was worth. Several quick minutes later I had a mouthful of his warm, young seed.
I dropped him off at the bus depot later that morning thinking it was probably the last time I was going to see him. I had a sense of dread that had been nagging me since the first night of his visit.
Sure enough, back in his hometown, he proceeded to "forget me" and a distance began to develop between us. I felt my heart breaking every day. I wanted so much to cut him out of my life. The constant reminders of Rama racing through my mind. The way he treated me when we were together, and then the way he treated me when we weren't. It was taking it's toll.
I didn't see him for a couple weeks after that last visit. I had to visit his hometown and thought I'd give him a call while I was down. He was ecstatic that I was down and told me to go to his house and wait for him to finish work. So I stupidly did.
I went around and sat watching the television with my ex while waiting for George to finish work. Several hours later he came home, all of us rather drunk at this point and I was dragged off to his room. I don't even recall if we had sex that night. Must have, cause the ex was a little frosty with us the next morning.
George had to go to work again later that day and I wasn't sure if I was going to be there when he got home. I changed a few plans around and wound up staying that night. But George didn't come home. For a few hours he wouldn't even answer his phone. Eventually he answered his fucking phone and he was "at a friends". Right.
He didn't come home that night, or the night after. And I was just about ready to call it all quits. Then I got a bit of bad news from my doctor regarding the tumour. I was devastated, yet again. Crying, sobbing, drifting off to sleep and having horrible nightmares of doctors cutting my head off. I woke up screaming a couple times.
George finally returned the next day and told me he had another fuck buddy. I wasn't sure what to make of this information and carried on as if it didn't mean anything to me. In truth, it was painful. After the last month, I felt betrayed. I was angry, I was hurt, I was miserable. But I wouldn't let him see that. I couldn't. That would be completely unfair.
It was my time to act. I needed to get out of there, to disappear, to remove him from my life. But I couldn't. I needed his support to help me through the radiation therapy. I needed him to be my pillar. I needed his love.
I couldn't deal with these emotions at the time. So I returned to Auckland and settled in for a hell month. I spoke with George five days ago and clarified a few issues. Long term relationship is a no go with him. He doesn't want that. Understandable. But he does want to continue to have sex. Not so understandable. I told him that I am going to need time to sort this out. And that our proximity to each other won't help me in trying to deal with this. I told him that given time, I can detach the emotions I've developed for him and give to him what he wants, but I need a couple weeks.
Understand, I was being asked to take everything that had happened between George and I over the last month or so and cast it away, forget it happened at all, in order to retain any sort of contact with him.
The one person I have met since Rama's death who can come anywhere near Rama's calibre, the one person who matches Rama's brilliance, and I have to remove my emotional attachment to him. Not exactly an easy thing to do is it?
Well, that's what got me started on writing this story. Seeing it in words has helped me significantly. I realise it was youthful exuberance. A lot of drunken experiences and a shit load of poor timing, but still, I still see George as the second coming of my soul mate. It's just a shame that this whirlwind romance, will fade to nothing.