The following fictional story deals with sex among males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area where it is not allowed, depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.
The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.
EvanBradley33@Yahoo.com
Chapter 27 Patterns: Old and New
After Ron Hamilton left me rather breathless in my classroom at the end of the lunch period, the rest of the day's classes intruded on my hot fantasies about that hunk of masculine pulchritude, leaving me with some guilt at the end of the day. After all, I was a professional - people were depending on me to give my best. Yet not for a moment was my mental screen without some image of Ron. Because of those images, I continued to experience erections and spurts of precum in my jockeys all day, especially when I undressed him in my mind. I never used to experience much natural lubrication before the ambushes, but since then, precum was not unusual. Or was it just that Ron was a mega-turn on?
The week continued with my libido pretty much in power drive. Initially welcome experiences, the fantasies occasionally turned in a negative direction. Sometimes at the height of a fantasy, Ron's face melted into Tim's. Or suddenly a memory of those torturous dreams where Tim ran off with a blond boy popped up, or the nightmare with the ominous shadow man inserted itself. I was left uneasy, wondering if my mind was anticipating abandonment again. My frustration grew because, once the unwelcome memories began, they seemed to increase in frequency. I understood what was going on: as I felt a relationship with Ron drawing closer, my defensive mechanisms, which had been shaped by my history in relationships, kicked in to protect me. I suddenly realized my mistake: any individual's defensive mechanisms were shaped by his unique history; they weren't those of another person. I developed a new appreciation on the spot for the push-pull syndrome that drove Tim.
Thursday morning at breakfast, studying me over a spoonful of raisin bran, Jeremy observed, "You've changed."
I looked at him blankly. "Why do you say that?"
"You're so quiet."
"You know how I'm usually thinking ahead to all the things I have to do once I reach school."
"No, this is something else. It's like you're brooding over something or someone. I thought you'd moved past Tim."
"I have. Besides, I'm the same person I've always been."
"Have you noticed that haven't been joking or teasing in the classroom the way you used too?" he revealed in a rather superior manner as though he were pleased to be ahead of me in realizing something.
"I really hadn't thought about it." I smiled. "Perhaps I need stronger vitamins."
He continued studying me.
"Now there was a joke. You didn't react," I challenged him. "The usual Jeremy would have skewered me with a funny retort."
"Wasn't a joke. You were just putting me off."
I was going to have to watch myself more closely if Jeremy could read me that accurately. "By the way, you'll have to fend for yourself for dinner Friday evening. But since it's a Friday, I doubt my plans will affect yours much."
"Where are you going to be?" Jeremy asked.
"Ron Hamilton and I are going out to dinner."
"Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h-h. The pieces of the puzzle are falling into place." He grinned. "Speaking of being skewered, will you be participating in some special Friday night recreation?"
"Don't be ridiculous. We don't even know each other. He knows Tim Minor, who told him to look me up. Did you know that Ron and Tim exchanged teaching jobs? Ron helped Tim locate in the capital, and Tim suggested Ron take his former job here. Ironic, huh? So what are you and Kenny doing?"
Jeremy studied me, the cogs turning. "Since there isn't a basketball game this Friday, some of the guys are going to a movie. So I guess Tim was playing matchmaker, huh? Kind of a payback for leaving you?"
"Oh, I don't think so. That kind of good turn is too farfetched for Tim. It's the behavior of a caring person." As I dismissed his suggestion, he started smiling, and the more I spoke, the more he smiled. "A caring person would have spoken at least one word to me before he abandoned me or left town," I commented a little bitterly. "Alan was more the caring person, you know, for he came to my office to speak -
"Why are you grinning at me like a monkey?" I broke off to ask with some exasperation.
"The more you put my suggestion down, the more I'm convinced that even you have thought about it."
I pursed my lips and clammed up. I wasn't going to change his mind, so there was no point in wasting my breath.
He reached over, grasping my hand and holding it tightly, looking me straight in the eyes. "Dad, every time that you become interested in a man you don't have to be afraid that what happened with Tim will happen again. And even if Tim and Ron are friends, that doesn't mean Ron is setting you up for a fall the way Tim did. That's why you're being so quiet, isn't it?"
Wow! He'd put his finger right on it - even before I did. I didn't want to admit that he was correct. . . . But if he was going to be my son, he had a right to give me advice and reassure me. It went with the territory, so to speak. "Yes," I answered quietly. "How did you know?"
"I've been rejected too. . . . Does Ron seem anything like Tim?"
I thought it over. "Based on the ten minutes I spent chatting with him in my classroom - no."
"Maybe the time you're spending worrying about being dropped should be spent on the possibility of a new friendship, one free from worries."
He was correct again. And he was speaking like a leader, I realized with pride. Still, I wasn't certain I could shake myself free from worry. I was afraid of being hurt again. I just shook my head mutely in the affirmative. He stared at me for a while. Then the corners of his mouth flicked down in a fleeting frown that was gone as soon as it was born.
"So how did your first meeting with Ron go?" he asked.
"I behaved like an idiot." I recounted my being mesmerized by Ron and not being much in control of my physical behavior.
"Did he call off the date?"
"It's not a date, Jeremy," I muttered. "He just wants to get to know someone, to find out about the best businesses in the city to patronize, faculty politics, stuff like that. So the answer to your question is that he didn't call off the dinner."
"Then you shouldn't be worrying," he suggested. "Look at how good things happened for me 'in the fullness of time,' as you are fond of saying. Maybe the fullness of your time has arrived."
'I could certainly stand some of Ron's fullness,' I thought lasciviously.
The need for us to hustle to get to school ended the conversation, but Jeremy's leadership stance and love for me lingered warmly.
After some talking among themselves right after Christmas, it had been decided: Jeremy, Kenny, Cody and I would give Troy and Susan a candlelight dinner this evening at The Shadows as a Christmas present. The choice of restaurant was Jeremy's idea, the result of his and Kenny's having such a romantic time there with Tony and Angela. I had provided the upfront funding, and Jeremy and Kenny had driven out to The Shadows to purchase a gift certificate. Jeremy would collect whatever Kenny and Cody wanted to throw in to pass on to me.
Having found a blank note card, Kenny had sketched Troy and Susan on the front. They were sitting at a table in the cafeteria, gazing at each other in their special way. As always, it was excellent work, for Kenny had captured their particular "couple quality." He had turned the inside of the notecard into a dinner invitation. The three guys had given it to Susan and Troy the week between Christmas and New Year's. I had observed Kenny's and Jeremy's pleasure over the event as they described Susan's and Troy's reactions. Susan had been touched, kissing each of them (how did I miss out on that?). Troy, for once, had been speechless. Both had hugged Kenny, praising his sketch of them. Jeremy's and Kenny's reactions had demonstrated what a payoff it was that Troy and Susan had been touched by the gift. As a generous couple, Troy and Susan were always on the giving end. It was nice to switch that about for them. Maybe Susan would share with me how the evening went.
After classes, I scooted over to Dr. Sorenson's office for the long- awaited check- up. When he walked into the examining room, I was standing up, not using the crutches. I handed them to him, accompanied by a casual statement that I wouldn't be using them any longer. He grinned, replying, "Yes, Doctor."
He asked a few questions, accepted my heartfelt thanks for his excellent care, and pronounced me released. I told him I'd already released myself. I showed up out of courtesy and respect for him. He laughed, shaking his head at my brash manner.
As I left, he expressed regret that he wouldn't be seeing those "great kids" again. "How are they?"
"Developing too fast. I have to watch it all the time just to stay two hops ahead of them. They try end-around runs whenever possible. I guess I should tell you that I'm adopting one of them. I don't think you met him when I was in the hospital." I launched into an abbreviated account of Jeremy's history with his parents. Dr. Sorenson was clearly pleased with the news, expressing the hope that he'd have to opportunity to meet Jeremy sometime.
Upon his return home that evening, Jeremy immediately exclaimed his approval of my walking under my own power. I got a big hug with only a few tears in his eyes. "Wait until the guys hear about this," he exclaimed. He looked up and yelled, "LaRonda, wait until you hear this." The next day at school brought surprised but pleased expressions from my students and colleagues.
The next day seemed just as long as its predecessors. I was impatient for Friday's dinner with Ron to arrive. I was going to have to watch that. I could see my exuberance carrying me face first into a wall, so to speak.
As I was restoring my desk to order and preparing to go home, I glanced up to see Jim Belton leaning on the frame of the door to my classroom. Odd. Jim always stood straight and tall, looking rigid and uptight. I'd never seen him assume so casual a pose.
"Hey, Jim, good to see you."
With no preamble, Jim launched into the purpose that brought him to my room. "Had an appointment with your lawyer. I like Miles."
"I'm glad. Sounds to me as though he's your lawyer now too."
"Yeah, I'm feeling better about the farm. I think we must have talked just about farming for 25 minutes. Didn't know a lawyer would know so much about it. Must be his background in the South. What do you know about him?"
I was surprised. This had to be the first time Jim Belton ever wanted to know anything from me. "Miles comes from Louisiana. I met him here when I was going through a divorce. We became friends almost immediately, and we've remained such to this day. He likes to keep fit. He's a jogger. As you saw, it contributes favorably to his striking appearance. I don't think the man has an enemy anywhere, which is a surprise considering his profession. He's respected among his peers." Jim was listening intently. Hm-m-m-m- m-m - I wondered . . . "He's never been married," I added. "Rarely has a date." The pupils in Jim's eyes narrowed a little.
"You think he'd be interested in seeing my farm?"
"I expect he would. I'm surprised you didn't ask him out so that he could see what he was protecting."
Jim shrugged his shoulders. Another first. Maybe Jim was relaxing with me. That would be new, too. "I thought he might consider it a step down to mix with a farmer."
"Miles doesn't judge men by what they do to make a living, assuming that it's legitimate. But he'll do a pretty good read of a person's character. I think you should ask him. At least give him a chance to choose. You'll never know otherwise."
Jim realized that my comment was communicating on two levels, not only in regard to the invitation to visit the farm but also to establishing a friendship, maybe more, with Miles. I just smiled. If I didn't know better, I'd wonder if Jim were close to being smitten. Wouldn't that beat all if Jim and Miles became a couple!
"Evan!" that inner voice remonstrated. "You're matchmaking!"
'So what? Jim's going to be alone soon. I don't want his world to reduce to so much that there won't be anything to sustain him - even his beloved farm can do only so much. He needs a person if not people in his life too. And I don't want him to lose his farm. I'm not doing anything wrong because I'm not imposing my decisions on Jim or Miles. Whatever happens between them is their choice.' I responded, a little smugly.
"You know," I suggested, "the more Miles knows about your farm, the better he can help you keep it. He'll see aspects of your setup to which you and I are blind because we haven't been trained to think the way an attorney does. . . . The same applies to you and me. For instance, you can look at another farm and tell how well it's maintained and what it's worth an acre and then what it'll bring if it's sold. You can walk into a field, scoop up soil, study it, and tell whether it's ready for planting, probably even how good it is for raising a particular crop. I'm certain you can shred a head of growing wheat and tell how many more weeks until harvest and how good the crop will be. I can't do that, and I doubt Miles can do much of it. I can pick up a piece of writing and see things in it others can't - patterns in the prose others don't detect. I can see through it into a person's mind, the part that is used in composing and thinking, that is. I can even read in the subtext features to which the writer is not alive. I doubt you and Miles can do it as well as I. In short, you'd be helping both Miles and yourself out if you invited him to see your farm."
Unsmiling, Jim studied me. "I may give him a call. See what he thinks." He turned and walked down the hall without any farewell. He must have already been thinking about calling Miles. I hoped he built some fantasies involving Miles - with no grey misgivings to tinge the edges, I thought ruefully, reflecting on my recent fantasies.
That afternoon, Jeremy and I met at home and drove to Miles Forbisher's office in my car. Jeremy was his usual charming self when I introduced him to Rosamund, Miles's secretary. He immediately won her approval. When Jeremy told her proudly that he was going to be my son, she was clearly surprised. I doubted that happened often, given that she was usually on top of any situation and ahead of people in anticipating what was going to occur.
"How delightful! What a blessing for both of you," Rosamund exclaimed.
We were still in the "introductions' stage when Miles stepped out of his office, gesturing for us to enter. Jeremy insisted that I precede him. Once inside, I quickly moved to the introductions. Miles and Jeremy were understandably eying each other beyond the ordinary. After we seated ourselves, Miles began, "Oh, by the way, Evan, thanks for the referral." I just looked at him blankly. "Jim Belton."
"Oh!" I exclaimed. "Surely." Jeremy looked at me, curious about Jim's needing an attorney.
"He's a really nice guy," Miles added. "Kind of innocent-like. He told me all about his farm. Invited me out to his farm this Saturday. I'm going," he stated, his eagerness unmistakable.
My eyebrows must have risen a little for I noticed a faint blush in his upper cheeks. Jim must have called as soon as he left my classroom. Hm-m-m-m. I wonder if this means what I hope. "I think that's great. You must have made a hit with Jim. That farm is the center of his existence. He's never invited me out there," I commented, arching my eyebrows. Jeremy was listening with interest.
"You just made my day. I've made Evan Halsey jealous," Miles grinned.
"Bull! Let me tell you the kind of guy Jim is. My first day back at school after the accident -
"What accident?"
"I fell down the steps at school, broke my leg, banged up some stuff, was in the hospital. I just got off crutches," I answered quickly. "Jim, a man of few words, showed up at my classroom door after classes my first day back at school. He knew going down those stairs would be difficult for me. He also knew that my students, out of kindness, would keep me from experiencing any difficulty at the stairs. A couple of male students in particular would probably have picked me up and carried me down the stairs. Jim walked me to the stairs, explaining that I needed to go down them myself but that he'd be there with me should I falter. He walked me down those stairs, encouraging me in his taciturn way. Watched while I went across the parking lot to my car and didn't turn back until I was headed out of the parking lot. He didn't show up at my door the next day after classes, but I'll bet he was out of sight monitoring my progress down those stairs solo."
"What Dad's not telling you, Mr. Forbisher -
"Please, Jeremy, call me Miles."
Jeremy smiled. " - Miles, is that I pushed him down the stairs. I wasn't really intending to do that." Then Jeremy launched into the tale, including its resolution. Miles alternately studied one of us and then the other during the recitation.
"Well, you're a strong and honest man, Jeremy, to admit that to someone you've just met. But I wouldn't expect anything less of a man who won Evan's approval. It's certainly turned out well for both of you. Evan's been a solitary buffalo too long."
"Hey!" I protested. "Watch what metaphors you fling at me."
Miles laughed gleefully because he'd gotten a rise out of me.
"You should hear the long list of metaphors his students use to refer to him," Jeremy snickered. "It gets longer every month and is heavy in use after Dad returns a test or set of essays."
I frowned. "So what do we have to do here, Miles?" We launched into a discussion of the adoption process with information flowing back and forth. Miles said he'd have me come in next week to read over the codicil to my will and sign it.
"Jeremy, how do you want to be named the petition?" he asked.
"Jeremy Wilder Halsey," he answered, smiling.
"It suits you," Miles replied.
"Do we go to court with you?" Jeremy asked him.
"It isn't necessary."
"Please," Jeremy requested, looking at Miles and then at me. "Would you mind, Dad? It's important to me for us to be there together."
I looked at Miles and then back at Jeremy. "Yes, we can do that," I answered, quickly understanding that our presence represented both closure on an unhappy period in his life and the opening of a new door in our life together. "How about it Miles? Is there a session that ends later in the afternoon so that Jeremy and I wouldn't miss too much of the school day?"
It was Miles's turn to snicker. "You know, Evan, some people might just take the entire day off for such a momentous event."
My eyes widened. "And miss classes?" I questioned in disbelief. "I don't think so."
"Oh, Dad," Jeremy moaned.
I looked at him mischievously. "I'm now responsible for your character, Jeremy. I take that role seriously, and much work remains to be accomplished." He punched me playfully in the shoulder .
Miles was grinning. "You never change, do you, Evan?"
I smiled slightly. "So will you let us know about the day of that afternoon time slot so that we can arrange to attend?"
Our business obviously finished, we arose with Miles's assurances that we would hear from him soon.
The next day at the beginning of the lunch period, I was making my way back to my classroom after having left a memo at the central office for the head of the Commencement Committee. As I crossed the foyer, Kate Williams spied me, excused herself from a group of students with whom she'd been chatting, and walked up to me, beaming. "I think we have some things to talk about, Evan, beginning with Jeremy."
"Yes, I'm adopting Jeremy," I answered like a smart ass, "and don't tell me that you saw that coming," I warned her.
She couldn't stifle her know-it-all smile, asking archly, "Who do you think assigned Jeremy to your English class and why?"
I turned my head aside, narrowing my eyes in doubt. "Balderdash!"
Just then Jeremy, Kenny, Susan and Troy came up behind us. "Evan, I'm going to strangle you!" Jeremy exclaimed as though wounded.
I looked at him in surprise. "Now what?"
"Everyone is calling me 'Buckaroo this' and 'Buckaroo that.' It's all you fault."
My grin of delight was endless. "Gotcha!"
"Oh, I've got to hear this," Kate exclaimed. "How did you get to be a buckaroo?" Kenny jumped in and related the incident when I'd almost referred to Jeremy as a cheeky bastard in front of the class, catching myself just in time by substituting "buckaroo." I noticed the pride with which Kenny related the tale from glances of that nature he frequently cast in Jeremy's direction.
"So Jeremy's a buckaroo now. Well that certainly leads into my next question," Kate commented, eyebrows arched. "Why is it that parties always break out around you, Evan?"
"What parties?"
"I'm hearing all kinds of stories about applause from your end of the hall and peals of laughter."
"You should have been there, Mrs. Williams," Susan began, relating the events that had transpired in my classroom the first day back from New Year's, when LeKeisha and Angela had pushed me to announce my intention to adopt Jeremy to my class. Susan's rendering was punctuated by additions from Kenny and Troy.
While Susan was recounting the event, I noticed Byron Okata and Melanie Simpson walking by hand-in-hand. 'When she visited me in my classroom about dating, she said she wanted a jock,' I remembered. She waved at me. Byron smiled shyly at me then ducked his head as they walked slowly through the foyer. Catching the direction of my glance, Susan winked. Yeah, I knew she had put the two together. She probably dissuaded Melanie from her goal of hooking up with a jock. I wondered if Troy had gotten Byron in with the guys yet. I'd have to check.
Not long after I returned to my room, Susan showed up at my door with a brown bag lunch. "Mind if I join you?" she asked.
"Not in the least. I'd welcome it. Maybe I'll get to hear about your dinner at The Shadows. As we unpacked and ate our lunches, she began relating details of the candlelight dinner.
"Evan, Troy and I needed that time alone. And what ambience The Shadows has! I don't think we've had such a magical evening in a long time."
My eyebrows expressed skepticism. "Knowing you two as I do, I thought most of your evenings together were magical - you know, the All-American Jock and America's Sweetheart."
"Cut it out, Evan. You know what holidays can be like for kids from big families. It's hard to find anytime to be alone." Her eyebrows rose.
"Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h. I get it. Well, I'd be missing a little 'quiet time' with a stud like Troy, too, as I'm certain he was missing such with a princess like you."
She chuckled. "Yes, he had some catching up to do."
I cocked my head to one side, puzzled. Then Susan's admission in an earlier conversation that Troy made love to her twice for every romp he had with Cody or me floated into my mind.
"Oh, Troy and Cody," I shook my head, indicating that I understood the import of her comment.
"And Jeremy and Kenny!" she added. My jaw dropped.
"Separately?"
"No, the foursome."
"Oh," I said softly, looking away. Now why was I feeling strange about what Susan had just told me?
A glut of students popped into the room chattering loudly. Susan arose, frowning at my reaction to her disclosure about the guys. "Thank you again, Evan, for the wonderful gift. We loved it." She leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. Before she walked through the door, she turned again to look at me.
Once class was over on Friday, I sped home, warning myself not to count on too much happening. If I did, I'd probably ruin it. I showered and donned casual dress for dinner. Right on time, Ron drove in the driveway. I locked the door and walked to the car. Ron hustled out and opened the passenger door for me. If Jeremy had seen it, he'd have ragged me about my denial that Ron and I were on a date. "Lost the crutches, huh?" he inquired.
"It was past time," I replied.
"Where's that Italian restaurant Tim liked so much?" Ron asked me.
"I think you mean Francini's. I'll give you directions," I said as he shut my door. Once he was in the car, I verbally sketched out our route to the restaurant so that I wouldn't have to interrupt conversation at every turn. "Francini's is owned by Tony Francini's parents," I explained. I don't know if you have Tony in class or not."
He thought a couple of moments. "Good-looking, kinda cocky Italian dude. Doesn't back down. Looks you right in the eye. Has a girl friend. Shy girl. Angel? Angela?"
"Yes, that's he. She's Angela Walker. Really nice young woman. I have them both in my first-hour Junior English. They make a great couple. In fact, their finding each other has made them more studious and a delight to teach. Tony's a really nice guy. Stronger than he knows yet. And Angela's developing so rapidly that she's surprising even herself," I reported, ruminating on her uncharacteristically bold challenge to me in class to share the news of his adoption with Jeremy's classmates.
He opened a new line of conversation: "I hear you are adopting a student. That's remarkable. The scuttlebutt tells me everyone is behind you and Jeremy."
"Yes. Jeremy's special. I hope you get to know him."
"Oh, I'll get to know him. We're all going to be close." I looked at him with my head tipped to the side, wondering what his remark portended. "So tell me about Jeremy."
I gave Ron the quick version of Jeremy's family history. "When we started this academic year, he was a brash, disenfranchised kid with a bit of a chip on his shoulder. None of us came close to guessing what a rough time he was experiencing, which says much about how well he handles himself when life gets down and dirty. Now he's this caring leader whom others are happy to follow. One of his good friends is Troy Morgan. Troy really likes chemistry, by the way, so I guess you've met him?" I asked.
"The star basketball player? Yeah. I want to go to a game to see him play. You'll go with me," he stated.
My eyebrows rose at his presumption. He noted it, with a charming smile. Ever since I met him, I had the inescapable feeling that he was toying with me, enjoying himself because he knew something I didn't.
I looked at that magnificent visage, those blue eyes. "Okay, I'd like to see Troy play too - and Cody."
"Cody Saxon?"
"Yes."
"I always see Troy, his girlfriend, and Cody together. They're like triplets."
"Yes, they're close friends. With Kenny and Jeremy too."
"Kenny's Jeremy's boyfriend?" he asked.
'Ah-oh,' I thought, hesitant to answer.
"It's okay. In only three days in our school a newcomer is filled in quickly, particularly about the popular students."
I just shook my head in understanding. "Cody's a basketball star too. Troy's girl friend is Susan Connolly. An excellent student, a fascinating woman, and a good friend."
"Cody and Troy are friends too?" Ron asked.
"Yes."
"I feel jealous."
"Oh, yeah, right! The hunk's jealous," I blurted out uncharacteristically. Surprised by my own outburst, I blushed furiously. "There's no reason to be jealous. You hardly know any of us, so how could you be jealous?"
He ignored my question. "You've never gone to a game then? I've heard about how reclusive you are."
I frowned. "Heard about from whom?"
He grinned. "You know." My frown deepened. I looked out my window at the passing businesses lining Walden Road. We weren't far from Francini's. I remembered Ron's face turning into Tim's in the past week's fantasies. Now I was physically with Ron, and Tim was moving into our presence. I wondered where it would take the evening. I couldn't help wanting to withdraw. It had started with Susan's disclosure about Jeremy, Kenny, Troy, and Cody getting it on. Matters weren't helped any when deep within I heard this dissonant chorus of whispers reminding me of my past history, particularly with Tim Minor, and telling me I was going to fail.
"Come on, Evan," that interior voice said. "Ron's new. Give him a chance. While you're at it, give yourself a chance too. The guy seems interested in you. Tim's why you two are together, so he's going to come up in conversation for a while. You can live with that. Don't beat Ron up because of you're history with Tim."
'Oh! The voice! So where were those whispers coming from?' My brow wrinkled. 'Memories. Surely would be nice to have a delete key for memories.' I mused over the possibility for a moment. 'Not really. Those memories, even though they are negative, serve a purpose if you know how to use them positively,' I counseled myself.
I expressed the need for a turn at the next stoplight. Otherwise, I remained silent. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what. It certainly was not going to be about Tim. I wasn't going to spend the evening discussing him.
"Let me clear the air," Ron broke the silence. "I'm not involved in any collusion with Tim and Alan to pull a dirty trick on you for the sake of a laugh. You know Alan's not that kind of guy. And I hadn't seen or talked to Tim for a couple of years before he called to tell me he was moving to my city. When Tim drops someone, it's over - probably because he doesn't leave that person well. He tends to just disappear without a word. If he hadn't needed help fast since he was moving at the end of the first semester, I wouldn't have heard from him at all. That ended a long time ago - when we left college."
I stole glimpses of Ron and his wonderful anatomy throughout his explanation. He caught me a time or two, but he didn't react.
"The reason I bring this up is that it's understandable for you to think something like that might happen. Were I in your place, I know the same thoughts would have crossed my mind." I just shook my head affirmatively, relieved that I could put those worries behind me.
We pulled into a parking space at Francini's. I started to open my door. "NO!" he blared. I jumped because he was so loud. "Please, Evan, let me," he said in a moderate tone.
He hopped out of the car, came around to my door, opening it just as though we were on a date. When I swung my feet out and stood up, he took a step forward so that I arose right up against his body with him looking right down into my eyes and me looking straight up into his. The dawg! He smelled good - a combination of something woodsy and male. I cast my glance to the side. If he continued this, I was going to turn to jelly. When I looked up at him, indicating my intention to move ahead, he held to his place, a sexy grin spreading across that handsome mug. Only after establishing that he controlled matters at this particular moment did he move back, gesturing with his hand that I was to precede him. The old Evan would have been peeved at such behavior; the new Evan was thrown off balance - yet charmed too. We moved to the front door, with Ron opening it for me.
Once inside, Tony spotted us immediately, hustling over, telling the hostess that we were his teachers, so he'd seat and wait on us. He greeted us, beaming at me. He led us to the secluded alcove where he'd placed Tim and me on an earlier occasion. Why did he do that? I usually was stuck in a dining room. He and Ron struck up a conversation, allowing me to study Ron closely. After our "body brush-up" outside in the parking lot, I was fantasizing about what it would be like if he made love to me. In the midst of the conversation, Ron looked at me, bursting into a grin, for he somehow realized the nature of my mental exercises. Tony looked at me and then Ron and back at me. He tipped to what I'd likely been doing. He winked at me, chuckling - with Ron joining in. He took our drink orders - a scotch on the rocks for Ron and a gin and tonic for me. An older waiter brought our drinks. After about five minutes, Tony returned to take our orders.
I took a couple of sips of my drink, looking at Ron. He smiled. "You were going to explain the job switch that brought you here," I reminded him.
"Okay. Tim had called me before he came for his job interview to arrange to have dinner together. Later, when Tim came to the capital to find an apartment and finalize the contract and papers on his new job, he stayed with me. We used to be close," he said, staring into my eyes, pausing. "Really close. Started when we played pick-up basketball on dormitory courts when we were in college."
"Oh," I said, actually at a loss for words. He took a sip from his drink.
"I guess he planned from the beginning of that visit to start interesting me in coming here. He started talking about you. Telling me about you and about him - ALL about you and him," Ron said, fixing his eyes on me, humor dancing in his eyes.
I blushed. "If he told you why he dumped me, I'd be interested in knowing."
"Not dumping - fleeing."
My brows beetled. "Fleeing what?"
"You, falling deeply in love with you, being trapped by you."
"Makes me sound like a black widow spider! I don't trap people," I said with a slight degree of attitude.
He smiled. "You do if they find themselves caring more for you than they intended or wanted."
I snorted in impatience. "When did we stop discussing Tim Minor?"
"I never did."
Tony arrived with our salads and bread sticks. I noticed that he asked Ron, not me, if everything was okay as he would with the man of a dating couple. 'So what has Tony figured out - who the head male is?' I wondered. He'd probably figured everything out. Could he read me now and tell me what I was feeling? I could use the help.
I looked down at my gin and tonic, frowning. After Tony left, I asked, "Is there some reason Tim couldn't have told me any of this?"
"Fear. Tim's never confessed anything like this to any of his former lovers - or anyone else, for that matter. Nor will he ever. You may have noticed that he's a competitive guy, likes to be in control, but he felt that he would never have the control with you that he liked. That he needed. You are too strong, independent, too much your own man. He also thought you wouldn't leave your job and go to the capital with him. Besides, you know that Tim has a thing for young guys."
"I didn't then but do now. Did Alan go to the city with Tim?"
"Yeah, they're rooming together. Alan transferred to the university there."
"Oh, of course!" I exclaimed as I pitched attitude, then felt guilty because it seemed to depreciate Alan. I realized I couldn't do that. 'What's up with that?' I wondered.
"Alan's a nice guy," I mentioned contritely. "Of course, a nice guy can be the most destructive," I murmured, lapsing into memories.
"You're not talking about Tim now, are you?" Ron asked. I shook my head in the negative. "Sounds like there's a story there," he observed. There was, but I remained silent.
Ron continued his account of Tim's visit to him in the state capital. "When Tim suggested that I take his job, I told him I wasn't interested in pulling up roots and moving somewhere else. Then he told me about you. I got really interested then."
"Oh come on!" I broke in. "You aren't going to tell me that you uprooted yourself, gave up your seniority and favorite haunts, because of me. You hadn't even seen me."
"I did shortly after that - out in the north parking lot of the school. In fact, I can take you right now to the very spot where you were standing. You were out there on your crutches. You stopped to let Tim drive past - in my car. Tim pointed you out that day to both Alan and me." My face communicated considerable doubt about his claim. Yet I could feel myself blushing, remembering the big shadow on the passenger side of the car, recalling how ridiculous I must have seemed, given what was being said inside that car. "Tim had already told me about you, described you - with and without clothes. However, I'm verifying all that after dinner."
My eyebrows shot up.
"You want a protector," he added, "someone to love deeply. Someone to shelter in. Even someone to submit to who won't expect you to give up your strength for him permanently."
"Maybe I'd want to give up some of my strength as a love offering."
"No, Evan. Wouldn't work. Your strength is who you are. A man who really loved you and understood you would neither ask nor allow you to give it up completely. It would be one of your many attractive features to the right man who was falling in love with you."
I glanced up at him briefly. I wanted to check him out to see if the was sincere or was pulling a fast one. He was sincere. Lowering my eyes immediately, I blushed.
"I'm not Tim, Evan. I won't hurt you," he said softly.
Tony arrived with our entrees. Again he and Ron chatted each other up a little. Tony kept looking my way, wondering how it was going, I suspected. I smiled at him to reassure him.
After Tony left, Ron continued. "You want a husband." I looked startled. "I want someone like you who will allow me to do all that, be that husband. I told you that Tim and I were close. I wanted him. But he shied away just as he did with you. I figure any guy who can shake ole Tim, make him consider settling down, is a guy worth knowing, a guy who can give me what I'm looking for."
I looked up into those blue eyes. "What are you looking for?"
"Since I've seen you? A small guy I can dwarf, who can make me feel my power because he has power, who can challenge me now and again. A guy I can cuddle, hold and protect. A guy who'll let me make love to him any time I want and who'll fuck me when I want. A guy I want to spend MY time with, do all kinds of things with, grow with. A guy who'll love and cherish me so that I can do the same for him. Who'll look at me with his eyes full of love for me - just the way you are beginning to do now." I blinked and then glanced down at my drink quickly, taking a sip. "Who'll want to spend some of our time on activities I like."
We hadn't any more than finished our meal when Tony appeared to clear the table and offer dessert. We both declined politely. In no time at all, Tony was back with the bill. As he started to leave, Ron said, "Hold it Tony. You can take this right back with you," as he dropped a credit card on the tray. Tony shot away.
"Want me out of your life?" Ron asked.
"No, you're a keeper," I grinned back, ducking my head shyly, not wanting to behave in any way that marred the moment. Under the table, he used the front half of his shoe to push down lightly on my foot. Tony returned, grinning broadly. "Don't want to hold you gents up. You look like you might be in a hurry."
Ron winked at him. "I appreciate a guy who's been there and understands," Ron replied. Tony barely stifled a laugh, but his smile was monstrous.
We took our leave of Tony with thanks offered all around. Ron insisted on following me to my side of the car, unlocking the door, and waiting for me to take my seat. I leaned over and unlocked the door for him. When he had slid behind the wheel, I thanked him for dinner. The ride back to my home was quiet, with the two of us looking over to check the other out from time to time. My mind was ablaze with images of our embracing, his removing my clothes, my undressing him, discovering all the delights those clothes hid.
Ron's car slid soundlessly into the drive. This time I waited for him to come to my door. When we were walking to the front door, he put his arm around my waist, gently nudging my body into his. I liked the substance, the solidity of it. I put my arm around his waist. When I unlocked the front door, he held me back, scooped me up in his arms, carried me through the door. "It starts here, Evan." I shut the door behind us. "Lock it," he ordered gently.
He looked around, spying the sunroom. He walked over to it and stepped down into it, allowing my feet to drop smoothly to the carpet. Then he pulled me into an embrace and a passionate kiss. I couldn't help it. I started running my hands up those big arms, over the balled caps of his broad shoulders, down his back to his hips. I loved the feel of that ass. Regardless of my hands' moving to back or butt, any muscle bundle they touched flexed and tightened, whether by his command or involuntarily due to my touch, I didn't know. He was pushing the hard knot of his cock into my stomach.
We no more than broke a kiss before he started another. He was clearly in command. That was fine with me. His big paws moved over my body, taking its measure. Whereas I was reacting to his huge frame, he was reacting to my small dimensions. I unbuckled his belt, but he took my hands away. "Strip," he ordered.
"My bedroom's down the hall," I explained, nodding in that direction with my head.
"No. Here. I like this room. It's like a forest or jungle. I feel the beast in me awakening," he said seductively.
Man! Was he ever turning me on as we pulled our clothes off. I could feel myself start tremble, but I didn't know why. Certainly not fear. Excitement!
He stood there, allowing he to take him in as he was me. His body reminded me of a monument to masculine beauty and power adorning some ancient building in the Roman Forum. The muscles in his arms were so wide that I couldn't see a fringe of hair that I knew filled his armpits. I knew my hand couldn't do much more than clasp either the front or the back of his "ceps." The muscles in his forearms made my "ceps" look puny and my forearms thin despite the muscle definition there. His hands were huge, hanging now at his sides, the big fingers curled. His pecs were matted with black hair and accented with dark nipples. I had marked when I first saw him in my classroom his wing-like lats. A notable trail of black hair moved down his stomach to his pubic forest. His thighs were thick, defined and beautifully haired, as were his calves. His feet had to be big to hold up that frame.
As the muscles in his square jaw flexed, shadowed with his heavy whiskers, he walked toward me, grabbing me and pulling me into him, wrapping his arms about me. There was so much of Ron, and every bit of it warm. I put my hands on his chest, running them through the hair there. His hand ran roughly over my ass, his fingers moving aggressively into the crack, teasing the center of me he found there. I raised off my heels a bit to tongue his big nipples, which immediately hardened. I turned to sucking and nibbling on them, which made his cock push harder into me. Though he didn't want me to, I pulled down so that I was kneeling in front of him.
I was proud that his cock was no longer than mine, but it was thicker, topped by a beautiful cap, which flared out, leaving quite a flange. Instead of being flat at his frenum, the flare continued on the underside of the head, with both sides nearly joining before running up to the long slit in the head. I took his thick, seven- inch shaft in my hand, feeling its heat and heft. I nosed into the pubic forest. His musk was strong but not overpowering. While I licked around his cock, I caressed his big balls hanging down in a silky, hairy sack. He was turned on - I could tell by his tensed muscles.
As I licked the big cap, I ran my hands back on his ass. The lobes were hard. I could barely depress them. I had to pull him closer to me to place my fingers in his moist crack, feeling more hair there, and then brushing my fingertips over his hole. It jumped. I heard a noise issue from him, soft but expressive. I figured he didn't want to betray any kind of reaction, so I was pleased to have caused this much. He reached around for one of my hands, gently guiding it under my nose, rubbing my fingertips under my nostrils to leave his scent there, then pulling my hand up and leaning down to do the same under his nose.
He reached under my arms and gently slung me around on my back in the center of the open space in front of the sunroom door, rolling on top of me. He had his muscular arms and legs clasped tightly about me. He started kissing me again. After breaking it off, he slid to his knees and pushed my legs back, rolling me onto my shoulders so that he could attack my ass. He nibbled, licked, nuzzled his nose into my ass, magnifying my pleasure and trembling, making me moan.
Soon his tongue was entering me, his moans joining mine in a chorus of sexual pleasure. I had to do something, so I ran my hands through the black hair on his head, tracing the contours of his ears, massaging their lobes.
He arose with a simple command: "Get your lube." I scooted back, rolling to the side and onto my feet, hustling into my bedroom to the nightstand. I returned with a couple of towels and the lube, which I handed to him. "I like watching your little ass," he said. He spread some lube over the three middle fingers on his right hand while I returned to my back and pulled my legs back. He gently massaged some lube around my hole, slipping one finger inside me. Out it came while another entered in its place, then the other. Quickly the one finger became two, then three. I was puffing and losing control. He smoothed more lube on his big cock.
He knee-walked up so that his legs were on either side of me. He placed the round, flared head of his dick against my hole and unceremoniously began to ease himself inside, his hands grasping the sides of my hips tightly, moving my ass to adjust his entry, moving it now forward, now back off his cock. I felt only twinges of pain, so gentle was he, but he was watching me closely. Eventually, he was deep in me - all the way. I felt so full. He pulled all the way back and then moved his whole cock swiftly inside me. Somehow the breadth of his body joined in my mind with the breadth of his dick in me, making my back arch and a stream of cum shoot out of me. I was so unprepared for it that I shouted his name. Because my ass muscles clamped so hard down on him, he suddenly jammed his cock in me, climaxing too. We quivered, shook, moaned, and kissed. Then lay panting.
"Good," he commented. "Now we can take our time and really enjoy ourselves," he observed as he rose on his knees, pulling out of me. He moved back a bit and fell on all fours, walking forward over me. He stared at me, then leaned down and started taking long swipes with his tongue up my pecs, up my throat, up my face to my lips, leading to a passionate kiss.
A friend some years ago was excitedly describing to me a picture he'd seen of a lion crouched over a man, fucking him. The man lay face down, his arms a bit to his sides. The lion's back legs were outside the man's legs, with the lion's penis obviously inserted into the man. The lion's front paws were under the man's arms, while the lion licked the nape of the man's neck. Pondering the image later, I imagined that lion would lick the man in Ron's fashion - long, wet, merciless swipes with that big, raspy tongue. That's what Ron was doing with his tongue. Words can never do justice to the feelings he was creating in me. Trembling seized my limbs and was constant.
Ron reared back, again placing his cock, which had not softened, at my entrance, piercing me smoothly. He alternated long dick slides with short pumps, running his big paws all over me, stroking and squeezing muscle bundles. He'd already located my prostate, which was his target every now and again.
Not to be outdone, I clamped my ass muscles down on his cock, moving my ass around in counterpoint to his plunges. He had grabbed my cock and was half stroking, half squeezing it. I knew he was losing the battle too, for he was pumping harder and faster, sweat stood out on his brow, and his breath was coming hard. The same was happening to me. We started kissing hotly, nibbling every chance we got. I was whimpering. Our sweaty bodies testified to the heat we were generating. He was trembling now too.
"Now, Evan," he gasped. "Join me, my love." I didn't know whether my orgasm was moving up from my ass or something else was happening, for my ass muscles suddenly clamped down on him, making him wince, but not in pain, I knew. My prostate spasmed, flinging cum out of me. He suddenly jammed himself deep in me with a shout of my name, and I again felt warmth growing at my center. He leaned down and we started another hot kiss while he slowly lowered himself down onto me. I was gloriously mashed; I loved it. After a long while, his cock slid out of my ass, and he rolled off me onto his back beside me. We lay there catching our breath, occasionally kissing, caressing each other.
As he nuzzled me, he spoke softly: "You're mine now. I've claimed you."
"Thoroughly," I replied. I placed my hands on either side of the big handsome head, making him look in my eyes. "And I claimed you. You're mine now too." He smiled in agreement. "It was worth the wait."
Our afterglow was disturbed by the sound of a key in the lock on the front door. I began to bolt, at the same time reaching for my clothes. "No," he said authoritatively, pulling me back against him. As the front door started to swing open, he spooned me with the two of us facing the front door where we would be the first sight upon which curious eyes would alight.
(To be continued.)