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.
EBradley33@Excite.com
Chapter 15
Harbingers and Tremors
My eyes opened slowly. Facing each other, Jeremy and I were sharing the same pillow. His eyes were open, somberly regarding me.
Before I had a chance to do anything, words started tumbling out of him: "Please don't feel bad about last night, Evan. I know that Tim probably jumped to your mind as soon as you woke up. I don't want to mess anything up between Tim and you. But I was so happy yesterday. I don't think I've had a happier day in my life. Honestly, Evan, no one has ever looked out for me the way you have the last few days, not even my parents. I just sort of existed there. Don't get me wrong: I'm not talking about just the clothes, but they are part of it too, along with the watch, haircut, Saturday date, Troy and Susan too, and dinner out. Do you know how many times I've eaten in a nice restaurant? I've only been to Micky D's, taco town, or hash heaven, places like that. I never remember a dinner as nice as the one last night. I never felt so accepted and loved as you three made me feel last night. I just had to act on my feelings, Evan. I hope you aren't mad at me today."
"Goodness, that's quite a soliloquy to come spilling out so early in the morning. How long have you been awake?"
"Maybe half an hour."
"Did you spend your time thinking up that speech?"
"It started last night when I was falling asleep, and I finished it this morning. You aren't mad at me are you?" His eyes were pleading.
"No, why would I be mad at you? I'm a big boy, Jeremy. I take responsibility for my actions and decisions. I don't blame them on someone else."
"Are you going to tell Tim?"
"Yes."
"What will he do?"
"I don't know."
"He'll be mad at me, won't he?"
"Why should he be? He believes as I do. I'm the one responsible for what I do, not you.
"Are you sorry that last night happened, Evan?"
"No, roommate and friend, I'm not sorry. It was sweet, wonderful, mind- blowing. For someone who's never fucked before, you're a natural." His eyes lighted; he was pleased with himself.
"And before you say it, I know you haven't done 'blowing' yet, Mr. Smart-ass."
He rolled over laughing. I'd beaten him to the punch. I rolled out of bed to go to the bathroom. "Hey, you better move your cute butt. You have time for breakfast before hopping off to school."
"Okay. I want to wear my new clothes. I don't know what to think about getting my hair cut this afternoon. But I guess I won't look any worse than I do now. And I trust Susan and you."
Jeremy showered while I prepared a light breakfast of fruit, toast, and juice, with milk for Jeremy and coffee for me. Jeremy walked into the kitchen in a rich hunter green pullover and tan chinos. He'd pushed the long sleeves halfway up his forearm so that the gold watch could be seen gleaming on his wrist. He looked good. The clothes made enough of a difference from the way Jeremy was usually dressed that people would do a double take. Jeremy sat down at the table, tying into the fruit, studying me.
"In Sophomore English, I knew Mrs. Burge cared for me, but I didn't think I'd ever find another teacher who would. I remember when Mrs. Burge asked me who my Junior English teacher was going to be. When I told her Evan Halsey, she warned me that you wouldn't let me coast. Your students realized right from the start that we had better be on our toes around you. I was a little afraid, maybe, when I was first in your class. You can be reserved, you know. You talk about my not being aware of others' needs. You can be like that too, Evan."
"Did you know kids really want you to like them? It's like a merit badge or something. Then I realized I too wanted you to like me. But not the same way you liked the other kids. I wanted you to know that I was different. So I started challenging you a little. You let me tease you in front of the class, and I let you zing me. That's how I found out we could make the others laugh."
"It was great to be in a class with a jock star like Troy and one of the school's most popular women, Susan. And now they're my good friends!"
"Anyway, when you and I bantered, I knew you saw me as someone worthwhile. That's why I was so desperate for your help. You had done so much good 'inside' me. I knew you could do good 'outside' me. And after I saw Kenny, Robert and you together, I lusted after you." He grinned hugely. "Well, actually, I lusted after all three of you." It was my turn to laugh. I punched him on the shoulder.
"You were just lusting after cock."
"I was jealous too. No, no, don't worry. I won't be jealous of you and Tim. It's a different kind of jealousy--on a peer level."
Jeremy was wound up. I couldn't have been happier for him. We ate in silence for a while.
"You're kind of quiet. Are you thinking about how to tell Tim?" he asked.
I shook my head yes.
"Thank you for last night, Evan. Among all you have done for me, making love like that ranks up there with the rest. Because I'd never had sex with anyone, just my hand, I worried that no one would want to have sex with me. Now I feel great!"
I smiled. We rose, Jeremy carrying the dishes to the sink while I went to my bedroom to get money for his haircut. I met him at the front door. "Here's some money for the haircut and a tip." In addition to those bills, I handed him a twenty. "Here's for incidentals this week." He pocketed the money and then hugged me.
"Shall I call you to warn you when I come back after the haircut? I'll probably be so handsome you'll fall into a faint upon first seeing me."
I smiled: "You needn't call. I think I can stand the shock." He hugged me and was out the door to what I hoped was a continuation of the excitement that had gripped him since circumstances had turned in his favor. ...........
After a bath, cleaning up the kitchen, I laundered Jeremy's new clothes. I pulled them out of the dryer and put them on hangers, leaving them stacked neatly for Jeremy to put in his bedroom. I folded the new underwear and socks for him. But my mind was really absorbed with communicating to Tim what happened between Kenny and me last night.
After a brief lunch, I indulged myself in one of my favorite passions-- reading mysteries. After settling in the sunroom, I had read a couple of pages of a medieval mystery when I heard a knock on the door. I put my mystery down and crutched to the front door. Peeking out, I saw Robert Martin standing on the porch with his hands stuffed in the front pockets of his 501s, hunched over, head hanging. "Very uncharacteristic posture for him," I thought, "like someone whose come asking for something even though he doesn't want to be here. He's apparently cut class to talk to me. Probably wanted to be certain Jeremy was gone."
I opened the door with a "Hello, Robert. I've been expecting you."
His eyes darted to mine and then away. "Yeah, I guess so." His manner revealed that he'd come to me a boy, not the leader of the Pride.
"Come in," as I moved back from the door. "Let's go out in the sunroom. It's relaxing there this time of day."
Walking ahead of me to the sunroom, he sprawled out on the sofa, again not his usual posture, still very much a boy. I sat in a chair not far away.
He jumped right in. "You've been expecting me because of what you saw in the Club Eleven parking lot."
"Yes."
"Evan, I can't help it. I've fallen head over heels in love with Lisa Wemberley. I never expected it, wasn't looking for it. We had a class project to do in American history. We really clicked." I wondered how many class projects had generated romances. "I know that spending my life with Lisa is what is meant for me."
I just sat listening, betraying no reaction.
"But my problem is obvious. Kenny. Do you think this will hurt him much?" he looked at me beseechingly. I knew the answer he wanted.
"Well, consider Kenny's circumstances. He chose you, uncharacteristic behavior for a boy younger than you, sensitive, shy, retiring, gay, not at all believing that there's anything special about him. You are his first lover. And he was allowed to enter the good graces of this hunk, this jock, this star, who lifted him to the upper reaches of pleasure and paradise, who became his protector and his hero, maybe a little bit of a big brother that he never had. Suddenly, this star hunk falls in love with a beautiful young woman, and Kenny's permanently dumped. I'm assuming that latter point based on what I know about you. If you have given your heart to Lisa, then you won't have time for Kenny. How hurt do you think he's going to be?"
He groaned, tears sparkling in his eyes. "I don't want to cause it, but I know Kenny will hurt so much when he finds out. I still love him. But I have to go with Lisa. Why do I feel so guilty?"
"Let's examine the issue. When Kenny first let you know he was interested in you, did you respond because of him or you?"
"I don't know exactly what you mean."
"Did you respond because here was a seemingly worthwhile person you'd like to know, or did you respond because here was someone turned onto the jock celebrity?"
He blushed. "I thought he had a case of hero worship, so I would let him find out what it was like to receive attention from a hero."
"Was that response, from your perspective now, positive or negative?"
Robert sat with his head down for nearly a minute. "Negative. I was really focused on me."
"How were you perceiving him then?"
More silence. Head still down. Softer reply: "I thought here was this little kid who'd get a kick out of making it with me."
"Was that the best of all possible responses?"
"No."
"Why?"
"It [catch in breath] made him someone to be used."
"And is that all Kenny is?"
He looked up at me, his eyes still glinting with tears: "No, Kenny's a talented person who has a big heart and more strength to help others than I."
"That's debatable--the part about you, I mean."
We sat in silence as he let his head hang. "Can you answer your own question now about why you feel guilty? Do you perceive what is causing your guilt?" I asked.
He sighed--perhaps in defeat. "I was so busy seeing me in terms of my reputation that I did not have time to see his vulnerability. To wonder if he could be hurt. In fact, I wouldn't have seen much about him other than how cute he was and how I would be the one to take his cherry."
"It's to your credit that your understanding at this point is so acute. Notice, too, Robert, that not once have you sought cover yourself with an excuse, two points to your credit. A third is that you have been honest beyond the ordinary for these circumstances, but I have come to expect that of you. There are actually more points to your credit that we'll get to in a bit."
"But you're still implying that I can really hurt Kenny at this point. That I should give up Lisa." The tears began to run down his cheeks, his head dropped, and a sob escaped his throat.
I crutched over and sat in the corner of the sofa and pulled Robert over onto my chest. He was pliant, allowing it. Lately I was holding more people who were weeping! And I knew Robert was not going to be the last. "Robert, what should your or any person's purpose in life be?"
"I'm not certain any more."
"To be happy, when 'happy' means fully embracing goodness--the Greek's sense of moral goodness."
"I know you aren't telling me to forget Kenny and throw myself into a relationship with Lisa."
"I'm telling you that you must pursue YOUR and Lisa's happiness--but with the least possible damage to Kenny. If Lisa is to be your destiny, you can't run from it. If you attempt that, you become Jonah, who runs from a challenge God gives him, runs from his destiny, and runs right into the belly of the whale. Many gay men, including yours truly, have married, running from who they are, from their destiny. And for many, the marriage turned into the whale."
"Are you telling me that if I marry Lisa, it will fail?"
"No. Some gay people conduct happy, fulfilling marriages. The success or failure of your marriage will depend on you and Lisa. Now, back to the point. You recognize now where your error began with Kenny?"
About a minute passed. "I thought about me, not really about him. I thought about getting my rocks off, maybe busting a kid's cherry, giving him a thrill. I never thought about what it could end up costing him. He was so cute. He adored me. I just got high on it. We kept it up. My feelings for him did deepen." More silence.
"How far did your deepened feelings extend?"
"Into the Pride. I began to realize there were deeper dynamics there for all of us. I realized that I was one of several contributors to the good things we discovered and felt for each other and ourselves. I realized that I was changing, growing stronger, taking a protective stance. I guess I discovered that I can be a real leader. Now I feel caught between two worlds. What do I do, Evan?"
"The same--leave the Pride with the least damage possible. Never repeat this behavior until your motives are pure. To be pure, they must be focused on benefit to others, not just benefit to you. There's nothing wrong with acting in favor of securing a benefit for yourself as long as it doesn't come at the expense of another. I'll admit--that issue can be tricky because benefit and harm are not always as distinct as one might imagine, as you have discovered in this situation. Were Kenny any other star-struck kid, you and he might have had a brief little affair and parted with nothing more than regret. But Kenny is special, and you knew that very soon after taking up with him. That knowledge is what made you want to continue a relationship with him. It is also what's causing you pain now. Never take it for granted that benefits will automatically accrue to others just because you are gratifying your own goals. That's celebrity thinking--very self-centered. Then treasure this wonderful soul Kenny, whom you will remember with fondness and guilt on your deathbed." Silence ensued for a stretch of time.
"It seems like I should be helping Kenny."
"I'm guessing that, other than going back to him, he's not going to allow you any opportunity even to be near him."
"There has to be something I can do."
"Watch from a distance. Remain aware of him. Look out for him. . . . There is one other possibility. I hesitate to mention it, for it is a sensitive issue."
I paused. "Do you believe in God, Robert?"
"Yes."
Do you pray?"
"No."
"One way to help Kenny is to pray for him every day until he finds his happiness. You owe it to him now as you move to create happiness for Lisa and you. Your happiness comes at the cost of his. As you have admitted, you need to do something for him, for you are an honest person. You didn't have to come here today to see me, and I know you dreaded it probably for several reasons." I placed my hand on the back of his neck and squeezed. "I celebrate your honesty. It isn't that common. Because you are honest, you want to do something to balance what your decision has caused. Praying for Kenny's happiness is a good and healing gesture. If you aren't doing something to help him, you will continue with a load of guilt you do not want. You can know some peace if you pray for Kenny's happiness and believe that your prayers are in some way helping him."
He looked at me for a moment, obviously concentrating. "It will help me too, won't it?"
I smiled. "I knew you'd catch on, just not so quickly. Shame on me. Remember that every time you pray for Kenny, you acknowledge, especially to yourself, that there are forces larger and more important than you and your wishes. We experienced those forces in the Pride. Such knowledge keeps you humble, ensures some degree of balance and harmony in your universe."
"People who cannot believe in anything larger than themselves often become dangerous to others; they destroy balance and harmony. Among many of the ancient mythologies, disturbing natural balance and harmony was the most grievous wrongdoing. All of the taboos of a culture identified conditions that could jeopardize that balance. The imbalance occurs when an individual believes that his or her own needs, wishes, and the moment are the most significant consideration. That's what Nick Carraway finally learns all too painfully at the hands of the beautiful Daisy and handsome Tom Buchanan in "The Great Gatsby." It's when we become arrogant, proud, that we create trouble, not just for us but also for others. The Greeks called this arrogance 'hubris,' pride. It always brought down the hero to tragedy. Scripture reminds us 'Pride goeth before the fall.' Same thing."
"Latch on to this significant point, Robert. Similar warnings like that from different sources converging on the same point alert us to the presence of a master life principle. We ignore it at our own peril."
"I'm not a religious person," Robert murmured.
"Maybe you are more religious than you know. Maybe it's your perception of religion that's faulty. I can tell you from my own experience that you are religious. Caring, protecting, sharing, loving, feeling guilt, seeking forgiveness, redemption--these are religious experiences. You have demonstrated all of them."
"I don't go to church."
"That's the sole factor that makes one religious?" I asked scornfully.
"Okay, okay. No."
"Maybe it would help to think about what you discovered with the Pride and what you have discovered with Lisa. Think of your contributions to those situations. Next, determine how you can extend those to others. Only at that point are you prepared to create a good answer about what religion is."
"You are very strong, powerful, Robert. You are good at heart. You are a natural leader. You have character. You are a loving person. No matter how you end up working this situation out in your mind and with Kenny, you must rely on those virtues, give them full play. They will work out the best resolution possible."
"Then, Robert," I took his head and turned it to me, "spend your life making Lisa and those who come to depend on you as happy as possible."
He rolled over onto me, clasped me too tightly for my injuries, and quietly wept. Though he wasn't now aware of it, his first cry was actually for Robert himself, caught in circumstances over which he had no control, caught in the knowledge that, although unintentional, he was going to hurt another badly. This present cry was for Kenny and the suffering that would be visited upon him because of Robert's decision.
I held Robert and gently massaged his back. The sobs subsided. He raised his tear-streaked face, looking in my eyes. "We haven't discussed how I've hurt Evan Halsey." I pushed his head-with some effort-back on my chest.
"My dear friend, you helped liberate Evan Halsey from narrow, trivial, suffocating fears, corrected his distorted impressions, jogged him out of a rut, and loved him. You demonstrated that a young, handsome, powerful Adonis could be turned on by an Evan Halsey. It is important to remember that the first step in that direction to move toward me occurred because Kenny wanted it even though you did not. That response to Kenny's wish was unselfish."
"Throughout the meetings of the Pride, you were magnificent. That magnificence is not a flower that blooms once every seven or eleven years. It lies within you. It's there now. And your loving spirit is what infused that magnificence with power."
"Look at me, Robert." He did. I looked intensely into his eyes. "This is what you finally must help Kenny understand--you genuinely loved him. Fate threw you both a curve you never expected. He will finally survive if he understands those two points: you REALLY loved him, and you were forced to move toward YOUR destiny, even when it took you away from him. I shall do my part to support him. In the interim, plan to experience pain. And never allow your first impulse to be a focus only on yourself. Most of the time you will pay big for this cosmic arrogance."
"I find it strange to say so, but I really don't want to give up the Pride, Evan."
"It isn't right for you now, Robert. That isn't to say that you might not find or fashion another Pride in the future. Do you think our Pride is the only one in existence?"
He thought a bit. "No. There have been Prides down through time. There have been comparable brotherhoods and sisterhoods."
Our discussion had seemed to run its course. Robert stood. "I told Lisa I would meet her after her last class. I better take off." I rose. He came over and hugged me tightly. I felt a twinge in my ribs. Hey, maybe that meant they were healing. I hugged him back just as tightly. He walked over to the door and then turned back.
"Have I lost you, Evan?"
"Of course not. After all that's happened between us, you couldn't lose me, Robert. You would have to change what you are for that to happen. We're just as close as we ever were. I'm always here for you if you need me."
He smiled, stood there for a moment, then was out the door.
I believed Robert's future would be troubled for a long time. He'd just inadvertently admitted that he wanted Lisa, but he wanted the male Pride too. I had noted that his comment included the Pride but not Kenny. He was being quite honest with himself but hadn't tipped to that fact yet. How long would it take for him to do so? It wasn't something anyone could tell him.
Suddenly, a question leapt to mind: "How was this boy able to help me so much, be so profoundly insightful as a leader and lover during our time in the Pride and yet be a boy this afternoon?" I was making circuits through the house again as I pondered the question. For some reason that I didn't understand, I couldn't let this question go unanswered until a later time. After a couple of circuits, the answer sprang to mind--flow. During the height of a creative experience, one enters flow, a period when all the variables are meshing perfectly. The mind is still engaged, but it isn't having to exert the degree of control necessary to start the process and keep it moving, for flow has taken over. In the Pride, Robert was in flow. That produced his magnificence.
"But why only during experiences in the Pride? Why not other times?" A couple of circuits more. Ah! It was like the fifteenth-sixteenth century theory of the humours as the seat of behaviors. When the humours were in balance, all was healthy, behavior was moderate, but if an excess of one of the humours occurred, behavior became aberrant--hence all that bloodletting practiced at that time. Draining blood was supposed to help restore balance among the humours. At Robert's age, he was moving into male adulthood, evidenced by moments when he was a leader. At that time, one could glimpse what he could become if all worked out to the best--his magnificence. At other times, like the imbalanced humours, he was very much the boy. As he matured, those boyish moments would be subsumed in the man; balance would be achieved.
I knew his desire for the pride and his relationship with Lisa would create a lot of dissonance in his future life. But he would likely be sufficiently strong and intelligent enough to find a workable resolution for himself and, ideally, others. At the same time, I couldn't escape feeling down about Robert and Kenny. My depression was fed by my dilemma.
Tim and I had just found each other; then Jeremy and I end up in bed together. Our interest in each other was so new that Tim and I hadn't discussed our obligations to or expectations for each other. I was still uncomfortable about last night. I had felt caught between hurting Jeremy if I declined his advances and hurting Tim if I didn't. There was no time to mull it over. Oy! With all my carefully laid plans, I hadn't anticipated the conclusion to yesterday's events. It reminded me too much of Robert's line of thought on his first night with Kenny.
I had soup for lunch and then decided to take a nap. Nap ha! I was escaping from my dilemma. I didn't care. ......... I awakened suddenly, hearing the front door open. I heard Jeremy and Susan chatting as they entered the living room. Was I ever sluggish. I must have REALLY wanted to escape. I swung my legs off the bed, grabbed my crutches, checked my appearance in the dresser mirror, noted my dull eyes, ran a comb through my hair, and moved out to the living room, where I stopped in my tracks the moment I spied Jeremy. My jaw dropped. I didn't even see Susan.
Looking back at me was what had to be a college man, junior, senior maybe. The mop was gone, transformed into modified bushy hair on the top of Jeremy's head, tapering gently to increasingly shorter hair down the sides and on the back of his head so that the hair below his ears was quite short. The mop had blocked one's perception of Jeremy's features. Now he appeared older, taller, his eyes bluer, his cheekbones more prominent, his nose longer, his lips redder. Wow!
I closed my mouth, noticing Susan smiling at my astonishment. "Where did you find a princess to kiss your froggy face so that you emerged from the evil spell looking like this," I popped off to Jeremy. A pealing laugh burst from Susan.
Jeremy assumed a superior air. "The spell wasn't cast on me; it was cast on you. I always looked this way. The spell kept YOU from seeing it."
Now I laughed. "Touche. I wish I could be at school tomorrow, following you around, watching people trying to place you, recognize you, then reconcile the former Jeremy with this hunky version."
"Imagine the women's reaction, Evan," Susan said.
"Gosh, they'll be following him around in herds. They'll probably have to quarantine the poor freshmen women. That settles it: I'm going to have to put a private phone line in his room if I want any peace at all. Women will be calling here constantly."
I could tell by the light in Jeremy's eyes that he was soaking up all the attention and compliments. It made me regret all the years he had never had any of that. "Let's go out to the sunroom."
"I'll get drinks," Jeremy said, taking our orders.
While Jeremy was in the kitchen, I turned to Susan. "I know I owe you thanks for 1,373 benefits you have conferred upon me--organizing the 'coming home' initiative, the nighttime Evan-sitters, the food chain, sharing Troy, getting Jeremy a date--this list is endless, topped by our wonderful friendship. But what you've done for Jeremy ranks right up there with the rest."
I looked into her dark, beautiful eyes. "Susan, from the deepest reaches of my heart, thank you. How could I be so lucky as to have such a beautiful person in my life? And thank you for what you've done for Jeremy."
She started to respond when Jeremy entered the room, carrying our drinks on a tray. "Susan," Jeremy started, "this guy's reaction reminds me that I owe you a big thank you for helping with the clothes, the haircut, the date with Melanie, but especially for taking me in as a friend. The last few days I've had to pinch myself because it keeps getting better and better. Thank you, thank you, thank you."
"Guys, I appreciate your remarks, but this conversation is becoming monotonous. Both of you have deserved more attention than you've gotten. I'm happy to have played a part in changing that. Now, Jeremy, tell Evan about the afternoon."
Jeremy launched into details about the salon, meeting Rafe, who had cut his hair, Susan's suggestions about the style. Finally, that conversational line ran out, leaving us sitting in silence for a few moments.
"Did either of you see Kenny today?" I asked. They glanced at each other, revealing that they had discussed the Club Eleven parking lot surprise sometime during their afternoon together.
We saw him in class," Jeremy answered. "He seemed okay."
"He's soon going to need our help, folks."
"Robert came to see you this afternoon," observed Susan. It was a fact she had immediately intuited, not a question.
"Yes."
Susan again: "He's going to tell Kenny soon."
"Yes."
Jeremy was carefully attending to our exchange. We sat in silence a while longer, not really wanting to recognize the difficult time that awaited Kenny.
Susan arose. "I promised Troy that I'd meet him after basketball practice, so I'd better be off. Jeremy, it was more great fun," as she moved to the front door with us trailing. There was either a group of men or women often trailing Susan. Jeremy stepped forward, pulling her into a hug and kissing her on the cheek. Then looking into her dark eyes, he said, "I really mean it: thank you, Susan. I am so grateful to be one of your success stories."
"You're more than that, Jeremy. You're a good friend."
Just as she opened the door, there stood Tim. "Oh no," I thought; "I don't have the words for an explanation yet." She and Tim greeted each other as he stood aside and she left with a wave.
Tim looked at Jeremy. "Rad cut, man. Makes you dangerous!" Jeremy smiled and both of them raised their hands to trade a High Five. "Oh," I thought, "they're really getting to know and like each other."
"Evan, grab a coat. I'm taking you to dinner."
I looked at Jeremy. "Go Evan. Except for shopping yesterday, you've been cooped up here too long. I can take care of my own dinner. Besides, I have a pile of homework. It'll be good not to have you underfoot while I deal with some really serious stuff."
My eyebrows shot up. "Samson got his hair cut and lost his strength. This guy gets his hair cut and turns cheeky." Jeremy laughed, mugging superiority.
Tim looked at me. "Go freshen up. I'll wait."
As I splashed water on my face, my thoughts were all atumble. I hadn't hit on a way to tell Tim about Jeremy and me last night. I wanted us all to emerge friends, but I really didn't know if that was possible. It certainly wouldn't be if I failed to take a strategic tack. But I just didn't know what that would be. "Maybe," that interior voice broke in, "you're looking for an excuse. Just tell him. That's what it's all going to come down to anyway." Small comfort that. But the suggestion was right on. The challenge wasn't just telling Tim though. It was not hurting Tim-that was to be avoided if at all possible. Again, I was reminded of the similarities in Robert's and my positions.
I joined Jeremy and Tim in the living room. As we moved to the door, Jeremy started in: "Now you kids remember your curfew. No speeding. And mind your behavior: we don't want any surprise pregnancy."
Tim punched him playfully in the shoulder. "Okay, Mom." Jeremy glared at him in mock umbrage.
Tim helped me into the car, took his place behind the wheel, and drove us to Francini's, an Italian restaurant. "I wonder if Tony Francini is related to the owner," I commented.
Tim just smiled and came around to help me out of the car. In the restaurant, a matronly hostess showed us to a table secluded in an alcove. "Tony will be your waiter," she smiled after handing us menus. Not a minute later, here was my Tony Francini, grinning from ear to ear.
"Oh no, teachers," he complained. "Here I think I'll have a few hours away from them and they invade my refuge." Chuckles and brief conversation revealed that Tony's parents owned the restaurant. When he took our order for drinks, I burst out, 'A gin and tonic!'"
Tim's eyebrows shot up. "You're on medication," he observed.
"I need it," I replied.
Tim ordered a beer. "You know, you have hardly looked at me this evening. Are you hiding something?" he asked with a smile.
"Sorry, Tim. I guess I'm just not up to speed this evening. I apologize."
Tony came to take our orders. Since Tony was not quite 18, another waiter brought our drinks. We sat in silence for a while. With relief, I thought of a conversational gambit. I asked Tim to fill me in on school news.
I heard about the latest details on the teachers' request for next year's salary increase, Kate's beginning to prepare us for writing our lengthy accreditation report in the spring prior to a site visit in a year, a plan to link chem teachers to industry through summer internships to provide students a more real world orientation to chemistry, those seniors who had already made their choices of colleges to attend.
In turn, I told Tim in detail about yesterday afternoon's shopping trip with Susan and Troy.
We were nearing the end of our meal at that point. I hadn't eaten much. "Are you watching your figure," Tim observed, looking at my plate. "You need to eat for health and recovery, you know."
"Sorry, Tim, I guess I haven't much appetite yet."
"I don't think I've ever heard you say you were sorry so many times in one evening."
I had to look miserable. Tim seemed a little surprised. I didn't even respond.
"Oh," Tim blurted, "I got a call today from the head of the state chemistry teachers organization wanting to know if I'm attending the state convention."
"That's nice but a little unusual. What do you think it means?"
"Probably wants to talk to me about something. Don't you want to talk to me about something, Evan?"
I looked away, gulped, looked at Tim, staring at me with those brown eyes. I had to look away. "Yes, I just don't know how to broach it."
"Just spit it out," he said.
"Last night, after we had put Jeremy's clothes away and made plans for today, we started talking. Before I knew it, Jeremy was picking me up, asking me to please not stop him, for he had to show me his gratitude-all as he carried me to his bed. It was spontaneous, Tim. I didn't want to reject him. He hadn't had sex with anyone."
"Well, you could have called me to help out," he said archly, his eyes dancing.
This certainly wasn't the reaction I expected. "Uh . . . I don't think double-teaming was quite the thing for him at that juncture. . . . I feel bad, Tim. Given as close as we've drawn to each other, this event involving Jeremy and me would seem to suggest that I don't value you, don't honor where we have gone together. I can assure you that's not the case. I can certainly understand if you want some time off to think about us."
He grinned. What was going on here? "Funny, Jeremy never told me he was a virgin."
I blinked, then stared at him. He started chuckling. "Okay, Evan. I know all about Jeremy and you last night." My eyes widened. "He came to see me during lunch break. He was so cute. He knew you were worried. To hear him tell it, he nearly raped you. You were an unwilling victim, clawing at the air, protesting that you were innocent, pleading with the powers to help you keep your legs locked to protect your virgin pussy." Now he laughed out loud. "He's a good kid, Evan. Stronger than I would have imagined."
"You knew all evening." I paused in thought. "You and Jeremy set this up. You knew Tony's parents owned this restaurant. Did you arrange for the alcove with Tony?" His laugh told me he had. "Why did you let me stew then?"
"I wanted to see how you would handle it. Says a lot about a person."
"I'll get my revenge later. Now I need to know how you feel about it."
"A little jealous, but I don't think you and Jeremy are about to become an item. Are you?"
"No, we're not. What does this mean for us?"
"Evan, I love you. I am not certain that I love you as much as you love me. And after today's news, I don't see how I can consider commitment." I looked at him with questions written all over my face.
"That call today from the association president was to inform me that I was being considered for a position as state coordinator for that new initiative linking teachers to industry. I would spend half of my time on that program and teach half time . . . at the biggest high school in the state capital. A huge increase in salary comes with the position."
Again, my eyes grew wide-those muscles were getting quite a workout.
"That would mean I'd be moving there," he explained.
"Oh," I said quietly. Major downer. Then I remembered myself.
"Tim, that's wonderful! What a break! What a boost for your career! You've deserved this recognition. I can see this leading you even past a state coordinator's position. Congratulations!" I was saying the words. I really meant them. But my heart was sinking.
"It hasn't happened yet."
"I have an inescapable feeling that it will."
He looked at me soberly: "You can see why I can't act as though I'm committed to us with this possibility looming in the future? Why I can't expect commitment from you?"
I shook my head mutely.
Silence fell upon us.
Tony brought Tim the check. He looked at us oddly, for we weren't saying much beyond the obviously polite. "Was everything okay, guys?" We fell all over ourselves assuring him that we were more than satisfied. He still looked doubtful. I felt that Tim probably gave him a big tip to reassure him. I'd have to make it up to Tony some way when I got back to school. At the moment, I just felt empty.
We drove back to my place in silence, each absorbed in his thoughts. Tim pulled into the driveway and shut the key off. We just sat there. "You know," Tim said, "that even though our friend inside won't put in an appearance, he's listening for us to go into your bedroom, shut the door, and make sex noises.
I chuckled. "Oh no, pretend sex. I hate that."
He returned the chuckle. "Actually, I was hoping you'd pay me back with a phony rape."
"Enforced sex--how awful!" More chuckles. "But you're right. If something doesn't happen, he'll be blaming himself."
"How did we allow ourselves to be trapped like his?" he asked, a wolfish grin on his face. He came around to my side of the car, opened the door, told me to grab my crutches, lifted me into his arms, nudged the car door shut with his hip, carried me up to the front door, which I opened. He carried me inside and down the hall to my bedroom, where he pushed the door shut with his butt.
In no time at all, we were out of our clothes and in bed. "With a little cooperation, I can give you what you want-a phony rape," I said. I moved so that I was sitting on his stomach. I noticed that it wasn't as hard to maneuver as it had been during the past few days.
I grabbed his wrists, squeezing them tightly as I leaned up and pushed them over his head. "Don't you dare move those arms." He was smiling up at me in anticipation. I attempted that wolfish gleam I often saw in his eyes. I dived into his armpits, sniffing and licking, tasting his smell and musk and loving both. I kept it up for awhile, beginning to nip along the outer edges of his pecs and up to the balled muscles in his shoulders until I heard a little moan.
I shot over to a nipple, licking, then kissing, then sucking. I put my fuck finger in my mouth, wetting it good, then reached down-and what a reach it was-to place it near his hole. Just as I pushed my finger in to the first knuckle, I chewed authoritatively on his nipple. Major moans. Then I pulled my finger back, running it lightly around his hole while I repeated the licking, kissing, sucking on his other nipple. Again, when I started chewing, my finger slid in to the second knuckle, pumping in and out. Leaving my finger there, I nudged into his balls, sniffing his musk loudly, licking away, all the while pumping my finger and moving the tip around inside his chute. Once his sack was dripping with saliva, I started licking his big pole. As I made love to the cap of his dick, I used my other hand to pump slowly. When I saw his balls pull up nearly under his cock, I backed off, moving up to his stomach, using the raspy part of my tongue over his abs. I was hearing a chorus of moans. I could hear a couple on the other side of the bedroom door. That master manipulator Jeremy was out there, getting off on our lovemaking. I kept repeating the cycle, pulling off Tim's cock just before he shot.
"I said I wanted a rapist, not a sadist."
"You get what you pay for," I replied.
"By the way, what am I paying for this?"
"Hot kisses and warm embraces--when I free you from being in thrall."
"The price is too high," he whined.
I bit his muscular thigh.
"Sadist" was his response.
This time, as his balls rose, I didn't back off. His ass raised off the bed. "Oh . . . oh . . . Evan. "I'm cumming."
I sucked as quickly as I could as his cum shot into the back of my mouth. His ass clamped tightly on my finger. I kept with him, but I took his cock out of my mouth, allowing his cum to run down the tube. When quite a bit had gathered, I smoothed it over his cock and stomach and onto my dick. Then I lay atop him with my dick along side his and started moving my cock through his cum, which was slick and warm. I could tell that my eruption was imminent.
He placed his big hands on my ass, kneading them and helping move me up and down. Suddenly, my back arched, I gasped, and cum shot out of my cock onto his stomach. I heard a muffled groan from the hallway. My orgasm was so strong that, as I came down, I made that dorsal wiggle from side to side that males do when they are planting their seed, just like male salmon spreading their milt over eggs in a shallow mountain stream.
"Pretend sex can blow the top of your head off," I gasped.
"A phony rape can leave you drained," Tim whispered.
We just lay there, celebrating the hot sex we'd had. "I no more than find a guy as hot as this, and he takes off," I thought to myself. It seemed that nothing awaited me in the future. "Just remember," I heard that interior voice: "Kenny is going to feel this way too." How ironic: I had started the day as a Robert but ended it as a Kenny. This would have driven the old Evan crazy. What was it going to do to the present Evan? And what was he going to do to help the others?
(To be continued.)