After the Divorce

After the Divorce 1

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My friend Laurence said that forty was the new thirty. Fuck that. There seemed to be one or two more grey hairs on my head every morning. And now that Nick was gone...well that just made it even better. Starting my forties single. Again.

I dragged the groceries out of the car, my backpack, my bag of books. At least I was here. At least I had this. I looked around the grove of cedars and the path that led to my family's cottage. My refuge. At least he had the decency to let me keep it once we had disentangled our finances and all that marital shit. Gay marriage had certainly given us that, given us the joys of divorce like everyone else.

I opened the cottage door and that smell: like trees, like old books, like childhood. I justs stood there and breathed. I dragged my stuff in and put the groceries away and poured myself some white wine. I sat on the deck, shirtless and lay on the lounge chair with my eyes closed. I sighed. At least it's done. And I'm here. I tried not to think about the mess of him leaving, of him demanding and lawyers being complete assholes as they were so good at being. I guess that's their job. To be assholes.

We had to sell our house, which was fine, since I never liked it anyway. I sighed and took a big gulp of wine. So what now? I had thought Nick and I were in for the long haul. We did have ten years, I guess that's something.

I put my wineglass down and went down the steps to the dock and jumped in the water. It was a bit chilly, but it felt so clean. Like it was washing away the last six months of stress and grief and anger. I swam out a ways then back and threw myself down on the warm wood. I looked at my belly. Still not too bad. I wasn't going into my forties in bad shape. That was something, too.

I heard noises from the cottage next door, which was a surprise. It had been empty for the whole summer but I knew it had been sold. I wondered who they might be. It sounded like teenagers. Great. Loud parties, straight dudes and annoying music. I was getting jaded in my old age. I shook my head.

I lay there for a while. Then I heard footsteps on the dock next door. Looking up I indeed saw teenagers. A boy and a girl. They were standing in the sun necking and laughing. Great. I get to watch heterosexual freedom for the rest of the summer. I know, I know, they have every right to their fun. But really.

I sighed. I heard more footsteps. Opening my eyes I saw yet another couple. Another couple, but clearly one of the teenager's parents. A thin, blonde woman, and...an amazingly hunky guy. He had dark hair and a nice chest, in a floppy looking bathing suit. He had nicely hairy legs...I shook my head. It was the curse of being gay in this world. We can't help but lust after straight guys.

The woman saw me and waved. I waved back with a smile. They guy waved as well with a big smile.

"Beautiful!" She indicated the lake with one hand.

"Sure is. You just move in?"

"Yeah, we just got possession a few days ago."

His voice was deep. I felt a little awkward.

"Well enjoy."

"We sure will."

I lay back down and listened to them talk and laugh.

The next few days were quiet. I just read my book and lay on the deck. It felt so peaceful and all the stress of the last while started to fade. The sun was bright and hot and I dozed for a while and then woke up, a little dizzy. I went down to the water and jumped in to clear my head. As I sat on the dock, my feet in the water, the wife came on to her dock. She smiled at me,

"Hey neighbour. You want to come over for dinner tonight? We have a new barbeque and want to try it out."

I groaned inwardly, but you have to be neighbourly. "Sure. That would be great. What should I bring?"

"Oh, just some wine. How about six?"

"It's a deal. Thanks!"

I sighed some more. One thing you have to do as a gay guy in a straight world is play along.

I walked down the laneway behind our cottages to their place which was a nice, modern looking thing, all windows and cedar. I had always liked the place and wondered sometimes if I should buy it.

I went around to the deck. "Hello! I'm Susan." She shook my hand, all business. "Tom. Nice to meet you properly." Behind her was her husband. She turned. "This is Rick." He had very brown eyes and a shadow of beard that was a little distracting. We shook hands and his teeth were very white. I inwardly shook my head. The kids seemed to be missing.

"You have any children?"

"Yeah, a daughter Chrissie. She's with her boyfriend at a party in the city." He laughed. "It's nice to have the place to ourselves. She'll be back tomorrow, I think?" He looked at his wife. She nodded.

We had a nice dinner of fish and salads. The usual cottage fare. And wine. There seemed to be lots of wine.

She was a lawyer. How did I know that? He was a real estate type. They were nice. Really nice. I felt relaxed and at ease, something I don't always feel around very straight people with kids. My brother is the exception because he's...well, he's my brother. He gets a pass. But these two. Very chill.

Because I'm a gay guy of a certain age I couldn't help checking Rick's vibe to see if there was anything. But he seemed very at ease and the two of them had a nice groove between them.

After several bottles of wine, I decided I needed to head to bed, so I made my good-byes, shaking their hands, although Susan gave me a big hug and sent me on my way. I shook Rick's hand who almost crushed mine. He looked me right in the eye for a second.

I made my way back to my bed, feeling a little jealous of them that it was just me in the bed.

A few days later I lay on the dock and tried not to listen to their daughter yacking into her phone. Trust them to get a cell signal and not me. What is it with teenagers and phones? At one point I heard one of their cars leave.

I closed my eyes and dozed.

"Hey Tom. You want to come over for a beer in a bit?"

I looked up and Rick was standing on his dock looking all manly.

"Sure. How about around three?"

"Sounds good."

I kept dozing. I got myself going and put on a shirt and went over.

Chrissie was still on the phone somehow. How did they talk so much? Rick poked her and she gave him a dirty look, but told whoever it was on the phone goodbye. She put down the phone and looked at us. "This is Tim from next door."

"Yeah, I figured. Hi Tim."

Real polite. "Hi Chrissie."

Rick handed me a beer from a cooler that sat under the chair. The three of us just sat there, talking idly about summer, about the city and our jobs. Well his job. I was currently unemployed. I kind of had to tell the story. About the divorce, about selling the house and all that shit.

"That sounds like it was stressful. I can see why you don't want to work for a while. But I'm glad you have a place to just hang out."

I felt a twinge of sadness and something else. His words were so kind. That always made me a little hard when a straight guy did that. I shifted in my seat.

"Yeah. The break has been good."

"How long were guys together?" Chrissie surprised me with the question.

"Oh...ten years. That's like what...seventy years in gay years." I laughed, but not very convincingly.

"Still, it's hard when things don't work."

I wish they would stop being so nice. Especially him. Fuck.

"Why don't you stay for dinner? Susan's in the city for a while, so we're just going to barbeque a steak."

I felt torn. I didn't really want to be alone, but I also didn't want to be a charity case.

"Well..."

"Come on...just hang out here."

"Sure. Thanks." Once I had made the decision, I felt better.

Another nice meal and more beer. Chrissie was a nice kid, I had to admit.    And he was so...calm? There was something about him. Something a little too serene. Chrissie went to bed and I realized the light was fading and in the summer up here it meant it was getting late. We sat for a while longer, sipping our beer.

"Why did you two break up?"

The question startled me. "Oh you know. The reasons we got together had kind of disappeared. We didn't have any shared...I don't know...future, or something."

"That's too bad." He looked out to the still lake. I felt uncomfortable and I wasn't sure why. I got up.

"Well Rick. Thanks again. This was great. Maybe you could come and we can do the same next door...say Sunday?"

"Sounds like a plan." He got up and we walked up the path to the lane. The trees were silent and still.

I extended my hand, but he pulled me for a hug, his arms strong around me. I was so surprised I couldn't say anything. He smelled...like summer. All trees and musk. I could feel the blood rushing to me groin. Our cocks, I could tell, were touching. I pulled away without looking at him and I mumbled,

"Thanks. That was great. See you later."

I turned and walked down the lane without looking back. Fuck fuck fuck. That was intense. I wondered if he could tell I was getting hard. Was he? I actually couldn't tell I was so flustered by the hug. I threw myself in my bed and wondered if I should jerk off, but I had too much beer, so I just let myself fall asleep.

On the Sunday, I cooked us some chicken and we had wine. He came over in his trunks and a white t-shirt. Very casual. His legs were really, really nice. I had to look somewhere else. I noticed a bit of grey in his dark hair. Also very nice.

We ate our chicken and told stories about our childhoods. He was from Northern Ontario from a little town with a mine. I told him about growing up in Guelph. I even told him about coming out. He seemed interested in all of it. He sat for a while as the light faded. There was a loon on the lake. I loved that sound, although it made me sad that night because I thought of nights here with Nick. I sighed.

"You remembering nice times."

"How did you guess?"

"It's kind of obvious."

I didn't know what to say to that. I sipped my wine. I was having a fantasy of us going skinny dipping which I managed to fight off.

"Bathroom?"

"At the end of the hall by the kitchen."

He got up and went inside. This was getting annoying. Maybe I needed to get back to the city, away from this...temptation. A forbidden one. Fuck. I felt like my whole adolescence was a series of forbidden temptations, and I suppose it was. All the jocks, the stoners, even the geeks. They were all straight. Or at least I assumed they were. And I lusted after a bunch of them. Forbidden.

He came back to the deck and stood beside me, watching the still water as the light faded. Then he moved behind me and started rubbing my shoulders.

Before I could stop myself, I said "What are you doing?"

"You look tense."

"Uh. Right. It's true..." I didn't know what else to say. His hands were strong and digging deep into my shoulder muscles which were, it was true, tense. My head flopped forward and I decided to just enjoy the feeling, no matter what it meant. No one had touched me in months, it seemed. No, it was true. Months.

"Take off your shirt."

For a second, I hesitated. Fuck it. Off it came.

He really started to work my shoulders, flexing the muscles and loosening everything up. Part of me wanted to jump up and just go for it, but I realized I wasn't sure if he was just being a nice guy or if this was an invitation.

At that moment, I felt a light kiss on my neck.

Nope, this was an invitation.

"What's this all about?"

"You are a really, really, sexy guy."

"Right. Nice. Thanks. But you are married? Like, and have a kid?"

"I know." And for a moment, I heard a bit of discomfort.

I turned to him. The light was dim, but I could see his face. He looked almost guilty. "I...well...I've always wondered. I mean...well...I had an experience when I was in university...with a guy. But we were drunk and it didn't go anywhere. I mean, we barely even kissed. And then things got busy and I finished my degree. You know. Life. I met Susan and I fell in love. I mean I really did. We've had a great marriage. But I always knew there was more somewhere, but I...well...I didn't let myself think about it. After one kid I didn't want more. We still have sex...why am I telling you this...?"

"I don't know. I feel like you're confessing or something."

"Yeah. Well. I guess that's true. The last few years I've been thinking about that experience when I was nineteen. Now that I'm forty...well I wonder. You know what I mean?"

"No Rick. I don't."

"I guess not. Listen. I'm sorry. I'm going to go. I shouldn't have done that...too much wine."

He turned and disappeared down the path. I sat there, a little stunned. And my cock, which was pushing out my shorts, had other ideas. So the fantasy of a straight guy just throwing himself at me has just been made real and here I am, all ready to go and he finds a conscience. Well I suppose that makes sense, given his position. But come on...

I drank the rest of my wine and just sat there for a long time. Even the loon had gone to bed.

I didn't see him for a few days, like he was hiding. I went to town, bought groceries. Read my book. For a few days it was raining. I heard the car go on the second day of rain and I assumed they had both left. The next morning, it was still raining, and I noticed it had come back. I liked to walk down our little laneway up the hill to the road for a bit of exercise. Coming along my path to the deck, the rain was getting harder. I felt cold.

I went into the cottage, dumping my jacket. I decided to light a fire and once it was blazing nicely, I curled up on the little sofa with a blanket. I was feeling sorry for myself. Here I was all alone at forty, lying in an empty cottage on a rainy day. Pretty sad.

I heard footsteps on the deck. I knew it was him. Who else? Part of me felt annoyed. I didn't want to be part of him figuring out something. It felt like being used. He opened the screen door. "Can I come in."

I sighed and sat up. "Sure. Whatever."

He sat down beside me and he just looked at the fire. I felt like I was supposed to say something, or do something. But I decided to just wait.

He looked at me. His face was calm, but it looked like he hadn't slept. He reached out his hand and ran it across my cheek, almost as if he hadn't touched someone before. He slid his hand to the other side, exploring my neck. I wanted to see what he would do, so I just sat there, looking at him.

He slid a little closer to me and lifted up my t-shirt and pulled it off. I helped him by raising my arms. He stopped and just looked at my chest. I'm not that hairy, but there was little bits of silver among the brown. Ran his hand down the centre of my chest, then up to one side and rubbed my nipple, then my neck, then back down to the other nipple. With his thumb and forefinger he held it tightly. I made a little sound. He looked into my face with a little smile. "Is this ok?"

"Sure. It feels nice." I couldn't not tell him the truth. But still I sat there. I wanted him to do the work. This was his project.

He seemed to understand this. He leaned forward and kissed my chest. A few times, lightly. He kissed each nipple, now hard, almost painful. He sucked on them. How did he know how to do this? I thought he hadn't been with guys? Maybe he was translating from his experience with Susan.

I moaned again and I ran my hand through his hair as he licked my chest. Then he raised his head and, almost with a question it seemed, moved his lips to meet mine. I was getting kind of excited and my pants were becoming uncomfortable with the extra blood in my cock but I just kissed him, and gave him my tongue to suck on which seemed to surprise him. He pushed forward, his mouth really mashing into mine, his tongue searching me, duelling with mine. He tasted like coffee.

He moved down to my neck and licked his way to my ears, to my collarbones. Then I felt a hand on my pants, feeling the hardness. It was getting really constricted in there, but still I wanted him to do the work. The only thing I did was push my hips forward so he had easier access to the fly. He stopped kissing my chest and looked down as he figured out how to undo everything. Once the zipper was open he grabbed the waist and I lifted up a little so he could slide them down. He slid the shorts off and I just sat there, my cock all hard and hungry and wet, no underwear, just me.

I looked at him, wondering what he would do next. I decided to do some directing. "Take off your clothes."

He seemed almost surprised, but he slid his shorts off, then his t-shirt. I noticed he wasn't wearing underwear either. His dick was larger than I expected and really hard, almost rigid. I pulled him down on the sofa and took over since my cock was now in charge and it wanted something out of all this. I pulled him so he was lying on me on the sofa, our cocks squashed together, our lips busy with each other, our tongues exploring. I began to grind my hips into him and he moaned into my mouth. For someone who hadn't been with guys, he was a fast learner. We rolled so we were on our sides and I leaned back and looked at him. His face was flushed and his eyes were eager.

I took his cock in my hand, feeling the heft of it, the weight of it and began to stroke him lightly. He shivered and closed his eyes. I pulled my hand back and spit into it, then I said "Fuck it" and slid down and sucked him in, getting him nice and wet. He gasped as I took him down. When he was slick, I pulled back and started jerking his dick with some determination, really started pumping it. I took one of his nipples in my mouth and sucked, nibbled and he seemed to be going a little crazy, whimpering into my hair. His cock was getting even more wet as I felt it begin to ooze over my busy hand on it. I looked into his face. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be concentrating really hard on something.

I picked up speed a little and his hips began to push back. I grabbed his balls with my other hand and gave them a gentle squeeze and that seemed to push him over the edge as he almost cried out as a few long spurts of cum shot out of his dick on to his chest. I aimed his dick toward me and some landed on my cock, splashing down onto my legs, and stomach. When there was just a dribble left, I took my slippery hand and collected his cum from his belly and smeared it on my cock, which was already wet and began to pump myself, in a few strokes, to something sharp and intense. My cum poured out, rather than shot, and a big pool collected on my belly. I was gasping and I leaned in and kissed him again.

He looked down at cum all over me and to my surprise he bent down and sucked some of it up as if he was eating soup or something. He leaned back and swallowed.

"You're a dirty boy."

"I have always wanted to taste someone else's." He smiled, almost shyly.

"How was it?"

"Delicious."

He closed his eyes and lay his head on the sofa, still breathing heavily. There was cum all over us, and on the sofa. I guess I had some cleaning to do. We got up and I got a towel from the bathroom and we wiped up as best we could.

"You want some breakfast? And I don't know about you, but I need coffee."

We sat quietly at the little table and ate, not saying much. What was going in with this guy? He was eager and excited, like a little kid. I worried for his marriage. Time would tell, I realized. There wasn't much I could do about it.