The following fictional narrative involves sexually-explicit erotic events between men. If you shouldn't be reading this, don't.
In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms. In the real world, you should care enough about yourself and others to always practice safe sex.
The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.
This chapter had the benefit of some typically insightful suggestions from Evan. Thanks, Lion. Thanks as always to Tom W., my patient, hardworking editor, friend, and occasional co-author. Thanks also to Mickey, Patrick and Ash.
Timmead88@yahoo.com Chapter 26: Beginnings
MAX:
That was a cathartic moment: when Ced came through the door and found me with my arms around Tim, giving him a gentle and totally non-sexual kiss on the forehead, and I told Ced to take care of Tim. That was the moment I realized I had to relinquish all my hopes of being with Tim in any role other than as his good friend -- maybe his best friend. I had told Tim I would always be there when he needed me, and I meant it. I also knew that he would always be present when I needed him. We have something that isn't going to go away. But I also realized that he is indeed Ced's "man." And I knew then that I had to move on in my search for a mate. I'd like to buy into the romantic notion that there is someone out there for everyone, but I don't know whether I can believe that or not. Consequently, I fell back on an often-repeated saying: The prayer that is ALWAYS answered is "Thy will be done."
Did the search for the specific someone involve David Taylor? Was my fascination with him anything more than lust? I wasn't sure. I certainly didn't know him very well after the recent party and the few words we'd exchanged after church. But I was attracted to him so much that I wasn't going to give up just yet. Maybe he and I could become friends. I hoped he'd keep coming to St. Peter's. That would certainly make things easier --
TIM:
One morning after Ced had left for class, I was about to log on to my pc to check my email. Sometimes my students left me messages or asked me questions about assignments. There was a post-it note in the middle of the screen:
Timmy -- Check out this website, studly. Then I want to talk with you about it. Love, Ced
The website was http://amateur.freegayspace.com/smallcocks/main/mainpage.htm
I had occasionally told Ced about worrying that I was too small to satisfy him. He'd always replied that I was being silly and that he loved my five-incher. Several months previously, I'd had the opportunity to see Trey's and Chaz's dicks up close and personal, so to speak, and I had also had a pretty good look at Mark's on a couple of occasions. Ced's, Mark's, and Trey's were in the 6" -- 7" range, I'd guess, Trey's being the fattest and Mark's the thinnest of the bunch. Chaz, of course, had the biggest, by far the biggest cock I'd ever seen, around 10" I'd guess. And then there was my little guy. I knew, moreover, that, though it was true in my case, being short didn't mean you necessarily had a little dick. There was Max. I'd never seen him erect, but his was pretty chubby, and I knew when he got it up, it'd be much longer than Junior.
I knew there were all sorts of sites on the web with pictures of naked guys on them, but I had never looked. Nor, for that matter, had I ever read anything on the Nifty site that the other guys talked about. After all, there were more great books in the world than I'd be able to get to in my lifetime, so I figured, why read porn written by amateurs? And I had Ced, naked, hot, and wanting me, in my bed every night. What did I need with pictures?
Well, let me tell you! When I logged on to the site, I knew why Cedric wanted me to see it. My sweet man wanted me to see all those pictures of men, tall, short, muscular, wiry --but all of them with cocks the size of mine or, often, smaller. And I found most of them hot. In fact, as I flipped from gallery to gallery, Junior got hard and began to leak. I had already had my shower and dressed for school, but I felt my boxers getting damp. I knew I should shut down the site, but, fascinated, I couldn't.
As I said, there were guys of all sizes, and they were in all different positions. Sometimes I found myself craning my head to get a better look, or to see the face of someone who was lying on his back with his head toward the camera. All the while, I was absent-mindedly rubbing my cock through my khakis.
Yeah, you can guess what happened. There was this one guy who looked a lot like Trey. He was naked, of course, squatting on his heels, outdoors in a garden, it appeared. His knees were apart. His dark blond hair was down over his forehead. And he was erect. But his cock was only about half the size of Trey's, smaller, even, than mine. And he was HOT. Well, you can imagine what happened. I'm 26, not dead! I was too far gone to take off my slacks and shorts, so I just kept rubbing, harder and faster! And I joined what Ced calls the legion of guys who've come while staring at their computer screens.
I shut down the computer without ever having checked my emails. That could happen later. I looked down at my lap. Even though Ced has sucked me dry nine hours before, there was a sizable wet spot on the front of my khakis. I chuckled because I was reminded of the night in my office the previous spring when I was "visited" by Trey, Mark, and Chaz. What a lot had happened since that strange night!
Feeling pretty fortunate, I took off the stained pants and boxers, went to the bathroom, where I cleaned myself up with a damp washcloth, returned to the bedroom and put on clean boxers. That had been my last pair of clean khakis, so I pulled on a pair of jeans. I knew colleagues who wore jeans to class, though I had never done it since I became a professor. So, I figured, why the hell not?
That afternoon when I got home, Cedric was standing there waiting for me. He had my cum-stained khakis in his hand.
"You must've liked that website, stud," he said, a big grin on his face.
"Hey, what were you doing rummaging through my dirty clothes?"
"Hey, yourself. I came back for a minute at noon to pick up a book I had forgotten, and the bedroom smelled like a cum factory. I saw you had taken the note off your pc, so I knew you had seen the site. And I checked out your closet. Ta dah! Looks like you really enjoyed all those sexy guys' pics."
I took the khakis and threw them on the floor. Then I put one hand under his basket and the other behind his head. I pulled him down into a kiss. (Well, variety is good, right?)
"Yeah," I said when we finished, "I did enjoy that website. And I get the point. Those guys are really hot. Thanks, Cedric. When you want to make a point, you sure know how to use audio-visual aids effectively."
He hugged me. "OK, big guy, let's never, ever hear any more about whether that pretty pink cock of yours can satisfy me. The only thing about it that doesn't satisfy me is that I can't get enough of it. Now, subject closed?"
"Yessir!" I grinned.
"Good, `cause I've got some news I think will interest you."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, had lunch with Mark at the union today."
"How are things with him? And Lori?"
"Oh, they're both fine. But the news is that Pops has a guy!"
"Really? Mark mentioned one day that Stan was interested in someone there in Lake Polk, but that he didn't know if the guy was gay or not."
Ced beamed. "Well, his name is Doug, he's gay, and he'd had the hots for Stan about as long as Stan was lusting after him. I guess they are spending all their nights together in one or the other of their houses."
"So, tell all. What does he look like? Is he Stan's age? Who does he do?"
He took me by the hand, led me back to the living room, and we sat together on the sofa.
"You understand I'm remembering what Markie remembered from Stan's phone call."
"Yeah, Cedric, so I'll allow some margin for error. Now tell me."
"Okey dokey. Doug is 5'10" or so, brown hair, and has what Mark's dad calls chocolate brown, puppydog eyes. He's on the slim side. He's in his late fifties somewhere, and used to teach, get this, professor, English at Cranmer."
"Interesting. What's he doing in Lake Polk?"
"Mark didn't know. Stan seems to think he's retired, but he doesn't know the story there."
"Well, that's great, Ced. Thanks for passing along the information. I think I may have to call Stanley one of these days. Can you get his number for me?"
"What, you think I wouldn't have Pops' number? It's in the book beside the phone."
Jared Cousins, Jeremy Passinger, and Richie Bauer left the Cineplex at the local mall about 11:30 after seeing the late showing of "Legally Blonde." Because it was a Friday night, Richie had had to park his four-year-old yellow Cherokee at the far edge of the parking lot, where there wasn't much light.
The boys were laughing and joking about the movie they had just seen.
"Man! I'd like to have a piece of Reese's Witherspoons's ass," Jeremy said.
"Yeah, like you'd know what to do with it!" Richie said, as he and Jared high-fived.
As the boys approached Richie's car, they were aware of some very tall guys who had stepped out of a nearby SUV and were coming toward them. They became nervous when they noticed that there were six of the strangers. What was of even more interest was that they were wearing jeans, black tee shirts, and stocking masks. Every one of the six had broad shoulders and bulging biceps.
Before they knew what was happening, the three highschoolers were surrounded by the others. None of the masked strangers was shorter than 6'5", and two of them appeared to be nearly 7' tall. They towered over the younger guys. Richie and Jeremy were about 5'11", and Jared was about 5"9".
Richie, always the leader, cocky, glib, never at a loss for words, swallowed and said, "What's up, dudes?"
There was no answer. Instead, the tall, masked strangers slowly began herding the three younger, smaller guys closer together. Soon, the three were huddled together into a sort of triangle, backs together, facing the bigger men, who formed a ring around them.
"What the fuck do you dudes want?" Richie said, attempting to sound brave.
No answer.
Richie's friends were too scared to say anything.
"You dudes better get the fuck out of here. We could yell, ya know, and mall security would be right here." Richie had broken out into a sweat, and he didn't know what to do with his hands. He crossed his arms, then uncrossed them, and then let them hang at his sides.
Still the six strangers said nothing.
"OK, OK, what do you guys want?" Richie asked.
One of the masked men, not the tallest, walked up to Richie. He stood so close he was looking down into Richie's upturned face. "Do our outfits look familiar, Richie?"
Oh, shit,' Richie thought, they know our names!'
"Hey, dude, how did you now my name?"
"Oh, we know all your names. That's Jeremy and the other one, who's about to pee his pants, is Jared."
"OK, so you know our names. What's the problem?"
`I asked you a question little boy! Do our outfits look familiar?"
"I dunno what you're talking about, dude," Richie said, his voice beginning to squeak a little.
Two more of the tall guys stepped closer. Each of the boys found himself with his head thrown back, looking up into the masked face of a tall, menacing man.
"Oh, you little pissants know exactly what I'm talking about. You see, we know what you did to Steve Metz. We know what clothes you we were wearing. We know why you did it. We know about the note on his car, the rock through his window, and we know you three big, brave boys jumped on him and beat him up, kicking him when he was down, and sending him to the hospital. I'll bet you think that's pretty cool, huh?"
"Cripes," Jeremy said.
"Shut up, Jer," Richie said. "These guys don't know shit."
"Yeah, right," said the speaker for the tall guys. "And Sgt. Ibrahim doesn't know for shit either."
Richie, conscious of the size of the six men surrounding him and his friends and sweating even more profusely as he was forced to look up into the masked face, said weakly, "Man, you've got the wrong guys. We don't know what you're talking about."
The tall one laughed. "OK, ya little turd, play it that way if you want. But here's the way it's gonna be. Sgt. Ibrahim knows it was you little fuckers who jumped Metz. He's just waiting until one of you make a mistake. Or someone who knows what you did comes to him. You are gonna get caught. Believe it! And you'll do time for assault. It would be better for you three if you went to him, that's Sgt. Ibrahim at the downtown police station, and fessed up to what you've done. But let me tell you something, you asswipes, WE are watching you. If you so much as come near Steve Metz, your asses will be ours. We wouldn't want to do anything violent, you understand. Unless you gave us reason to. But if you ever go anywhere close to Metz again, we'll know it. And you'll be sorry. You think you're big high school studs? Wait till we get through with you."
About that time, a stain appeared in Jared's pants and began to get bigger. The unmistakable odor of urine filled the air.
"Yeah," the speaker said, "you'll all be pissing your pants if you even think of going near Metz again. NOW, you ladies can go home. And one last thing for you to think about. Steve Metz is straight. No way is he a child molester or a pedophile. But you little boys are guilty of assault, and one way or another, you're going to get what's coming to you. Sleep well."
At that the six tall men walked away across the parking lot. Richie and company stood in stunned silence and watched them. Just before the six guys got out of earshot, they could hear Richie telling Jared that he couldn't get in his car because his clothes were soaked with piss.
TREY:
When I got home, something smelled wonderful. The big guy was in the kitchen, actually cooking.
"Smells good. What is it?"
"I'm browning some hamburger with chopped onion. Thought we could add a jar of sauce and have spaghetti."
"Need help?"
"Yeah, fill the big kettle to do the pasta in. I suppose you'll want a salad."
"Gotta have our veggies, babe. If I make it will you eat it?"
He grinned. "Yes, Mother!"
I took my bookbag into my (our) room, took off my sandals, and padded back into the kitchen. We worked together fixing the meal, occasionally bumping our hips or asses together. Well, actually, his ass tends to hit just above mine, but it still feels great.
At one point he said, "You smell a lot better than those onions. Just take a shower?"
"Yeah. Played a couple of sets with Geoff Benton this afternoon."
"How's he?"
"He's fine. Pretty busy, what with his grad work and the trio. But he asked me to go to the first meeting of the SGA this term with him. You know Philip Halifax, the new president, is a guy we've had a beer or two with?"
"Oh, sure I remember him. He scares me a little."
"He does? You?"
"Well, yeah, sorta. He's real -- intense, you know? An in-your-face kind of guy. He'll probably be just what the SGA needs."
"I think I'll go with Geoff to that meeting. He doesn't want to go alone, and I know how he feels. Why don't you come with us?"
"Oh, no, Tiger! Not me."
"Why not?"
"My basketball buddies would never let me hear the end of it. They call it the Straight/Gay Alliance, but isn't it only gays and lesbians that go?"
"Not according to Philip. He told us that evening there were about as many straight people as gays."
"Well, Trey, we aren't out. And I can't see coming out. I hate to think what those guys on the team would say."
"OK, Chaz. It's your call. But I have to ask you a question."
"Shoot."
"Would you think I was outing you if I went to a meeting? I'm really curious about what they do."
I didn't get an answer right away because we had to put the pasta in the boiling water and get the table set.
I grated some Italian parmesan cheese. I had weaned Chaz away from the stuff in the green can some time back.
Finally, the pasta was ready. We drained it and served ourselves at the range.
As we were eating, I reminded him of my question.
"Nah, Trey, you go check it out. I'm kind of interested in what they do, too. You can tell me what happened."
"Deal."
"Ya know, I feel like I've just chickened out of something. But I really need to keep some of my teammates friendly right now. The last thing I want them to do is know I'm gay, bi whatever it is we are."
"And why is that, big one?"
He wagged his eyebrows at me and said, "It's all very hush-hush. Maybe some day I'll tell you. But right now, my lips are sealed."
"OK, dude," I chuckled, "whenever MI 5 gives you the go ahead, you tell me."
A few evenings later, Geoff picked me up in his old VW. It seemed to me that car was unnecessarily ugly. I mean it's utilitarian, sure, but even functionality doesn't have to look that bad. Geoff seemed to be sort of folded into it, too, with his long legs.
We parked in the Union parking lot and found the meeting room the SGA was using that evening.
Since this was the first meeting of the year, it was largely organizational. Philip Halifax called the group to order. I noticed as he was welcoming us that he was, as usual, wearing an earring in his right ear. That evening it was a small silver hoop. I could see it catching the light as he moved his head.
Philip introduced the other officers. He outlined some ideas he had for things the group might do during the year, but he also asked for suggestions from the floor about possible projects and activities. Then he reported on some things of concern to GBLT people that were happening around the country. He concluded his part of the meeting by summarizing the attack on Steve Metz. He didn't mention Steve's name, but he did point out that Steve was beaten up by people who though he was a pedophile. He explained how Steve had saved the little girl and subsequently attracted Bridget and a crowd of her elementary school friends. He pointed out that arrests hadn't been made yet, even though the police and the victim were pretty sure they knew who the attackers were. He promised to keep the group informed about developments through his column in the university student newspaper.
At one point while Philip was talking, I found myself looking around at the crowd. I'd guess there were about 35 -- 40 people there, which seemed, at first, like a good turnout. Then I remembered the size of the university and realized that if all the GLBT people on campus had been there, there should have been a couple thousand of us. So, Philip was right, the group needed to make itself better known on campus.
Across the room from me were, of all people, Lori and Mark. He was sitting with his arm casually around the back of her chair. I suppose that was one way to proclaim your straightness, but I'll bet that wasn't his reason for doing that. He was just used to having his arm around her and didn't think anything about doing it there at the meeting. Both of them were listening carefully to what Philip was saying.
Geoff had told me that he'd met Philip one day at the cafeteria downstairs, so we decided we'd wait around during the social hour until we could say hi to him. We had some cider and cookies and chatted with people. A pair of women came up and introduced themselves as Bev and Monica. They asked if we were a couple. We told them that we weren't. They told us they were, as if we couldn't have told just by watching them together. Three guys came over and told us they had seen Geoff dive and me play tennis. As we chatted with them, I noticed that Lori was having what seemed to be an intense discussion with Philip. Mark was standing there listening, but not saying much. Philip was nodding his head, as if he were saying yes to her. She shook his hand, gave him her dazzling smile, and turned to Mark.
Then Lori and Mark came over to Geoff and me. I introduced them, and we talked some more. I asked if they had ever been there before. Mark said they hadn't, and that it was Lori's idea to come.
"Yeah, I think we should become involved with this group. After all, Mark and I do have many gay friends, right? Gay issues need to be important to us, I think. And after talking with Philip, I think we shall become members of the Alliance." Mark put his arm around her waist, squeezed her, smiled at her, and said, "Oh we shall, shall we?"
She looked at him and asked, "You don't have a problem with that, do you Mark?"
"No, babe, so long as you are here to protect me."
"Mark Mason, you should be ashamed of yourself!"
"Hey, sweetheart," Mark laughed, "I was just teasing.
She beamed at him. "Well, OK, so long as that's all it was."
"Now," Mark said, "we have, uh, studying to do. See ya, guys!"
Lori looked over her shoulder as they started to walk away and said, "You know he means he wants to go home and make out, don't you?"
Well, that broke Geoff and me up, and as we were laughing Lori and Mark left. Almost immediately, however, Philip came up to us. He put a hand on my shoulder as he shook hands with Geoff.
"Good to see you guys here. Thanks for coming. You are going to join the Alliance, I hope." He looked at me and continued, "You know, you don't have to declare which team you play for when you join. We'll take your money and as much time as you want to give us, whichever you are. We don't play favorites." He was grinning, so we knew he was teasing.
"Trey, you know Mark and Lori, right?"
"Yeah, I've know Mark since freshman year, and he introduced me to Lori when they started going together last spring."
"She seems to be quite a person. She is very interested in what the Alliance is going to be doing. And she was asking me if there was any more news about the investigation into the attack on Steve Metz. Seems she knows him."
"I do, too, you know. Steve stayed with Chaz Greeley, my roomie, and me for a week after he left the hospital. With those cracked ribs, he couldn't manage on his own. And we didn't want him alone, either, in case those thugs decided to go after him again."
"Well, Trey, Steve needs to keep on being very careful. There doesn't seem to be any progress in the investigation. Things are pretty much at a stalemate, from what I hear. So the guys everyone knows did it could go after him again."
"But isn't that police sergeant keeping an eye on them? Surely they know if they do anything else to Steve, the police will be all over them."
"Well, Sgt. Ibrahim doesn't have the manpower to keep Steve or the high school guys under surveillance. I just hope those thugs are smart enough to know they are under the microscope."
"I'm glad you mentioned all of this, Philip. I'll call Steve when I get home and see what's going on with him. And pass on your warning, too."
"Great," Philip said. "Hey, you guys wanna go someplace and get a beer? I'm always pretty dry after a meeting."
All the while, Geoff had been looking at Philip like a puppy dog looking at his master. If he'd had a tail, it would have been wagging. I hadn't realized it until then, but Geoff must have had a major case for Philip.
Geoff's eyes lighted up at the invitation, and I knew I needed to excuse myself.
"Hey Philip, that'd be great, man, but I have to get back to work on a report I have coming up. Geoff, why don't you go and have a beer with Philip?"
Philip grinned and said, "Yeah, Geoff."
"But how will you get home?"
"It's a beautiful night. I'll jog. Do me good. And it's not that far."
"Are you sure, Trey?"
"Yeah, man, you go ahead."
"Great."
I shook hands with both of them and took off, feeling as if I had done my little bit to help Geoff in his quest for a guy. I just worried a little that Philip might not be the right guy, however smitten Geoff seemed to be with him. I decided I had better have a talk with Geoff soon and see what was going on.
-
- *.
PHILIP:
I suggested we go to a quiet little place I knew, a kind of neighborhood bar that didn't have too many university people in it. Since I had walked to the meeting, I rode with Geoff. He has this godawful VW Golf. Ugliest car I ever saw. I didn't say anything though, because I didn't want to tick him off.
When we got to Noplace (so help me, that's what it's called), we found things were quiet. It was about 9:30 on a week night, and they weren't busy. A few of the stools at the bar were occupied by older guys who were obviously regulars. There were four females that looked like university types talking animatedly but not loudly in one of the booths. Geoff and I found a booth as far from them as we could. I went to the bar and came back with two frosted mugs and a pitcher.
We talked a while about the meeting and the Alliance. Then we began to sort of feel each other out verbally, as people who don't know each other very well will do. You know, where you from? have any brothers or sisters? that sort of stuff. And, of course, the standard question, when did you first know you were gay?
I had, in fact, just distinguished myself for originality by asking Geoff that very question. He was beginning to answer when he stopped talking. I was sitting with my back to the door. He was obviously looking at someone, and I knew from the way he was looking it had to be a guy. The girls in the booth across the way all stopped talking and were apparently staring at the same person, the one I couldn't see yet. Then he passed our table, went over to the other side of the room, and sat about three booths down from where the girls were.
From the back, I couldn't see what all the fuss was about. It was some dude, not really tall, 5'9" or 5'10" maybe, in a business suit. The only thing remarkable about him was that he wore his red hair in a ponytail. When he got to the booth, he took off his coat, folded it, and put it on one of the seats. Then he took off his tie and put it on the coat. He unbuttoned his collar. Then he sat down.
Wouldn't you know, a waitress was there before his ass hit the bench? When he looked up at her and smiled as he gave her his order, my dick began to get hard. He had a gorgeous face, beautiful eyes, though we were too far away to be sure of the color, full lips you'd love to kiss (or have around your cock), and a really sexy smile. As he talked with her, he was rolling up his shirt sleeves.
All this time Geoff and I had been pretty obviously staring at the dude. He caught my eye, and we both smiled. No need to ask what he was thinking. Then he looked over at the guy again and, I'll swear he gasped. I looked quickly to see what was happening. What Geoff had seen and I had missed, he told me, was that the dude reached behind his head with one hand, took off the band around his pony tail, and his hair fell down around his head. Now he looked completely different, sitting there with a cream-colored shirt that was a little fuller in the sleeves than a normal dress shirt, collar open, sleeves rolled up, and curly, flaming red hair down to his shoulders.
By this time I was fully hard and uncomfortable because my jeans were confining my swollen dick. I looked over at Geoff, who smiled, put his hand under the table, and wiggled a little, obviously adjusting his package.
"What's the matter, Geoff?" I asked, giving him my best leer. "Got a stiffie all of a sudden?"
Like most of those really pale blonds, Geoff is a blusher, and his face and neck were bright red.
"Yeah," he said, looking down at his mug. "That guy is really hot, isn't he?"
"You got that right! Imagine, Geoff, him being on top of you and that hair falling down around both your faces as he kissed you!"
He looked up at me and said, "Phil, er, Philip, I've never talked with anybody about things like this before."
"Am I embarrassing you, Geoff?"
"No, not at all. It's great for the first time in my life to be able to admit to someone that I find another guy sexy."
I was tempted for a minute to tell him how sexy I thought he was, but decided this would be too soon.
"Hey, Geoff," I said. "Welcome to the club."
He took a deep breath. Then he took a swallow of his beer.
"Philip, I have to tell you, man, that you are only the second person I've come out to, and it is such a liberated feeling just to be able to admit that I'm gay, that I find guys attractive."
"Geoff, that's the way it should be. We have to work as hard as we can to make a society that doesn't discriminate against people because of what they were born to be. Can I count on you to help, man? Will you work with the Alliance to help all of us?"
I knew immediately that was the wrong thing to say. He was trying to touch me in a personal way, and I had done my usual thing and gotten political. When am I ever going to learn?
"Yeah, Philip, I'll join the Alliance. That's not the same as coming out publicly, is it, because you have straight members, too?'
"True. Nearly half of our members are straight. But, Geoff, let's go back to what you were saying. I will be sure to introduce you to other gay guys, people that you can talk with as you and I have been talking this evening. You, and everybody, SHOULD be able to talk with your friends about what's important to you. I'll predict right now, though, that before this year is over, you are going to be openly gay and proud of it."
He looked at me, startled.
"Ya think? I wouldn't count on that. I mean, I couldn't let my mother know I'm gay. It would kill her."
"OK, Geoff. Isn't it possible that you could be more or less out on campus, and still keep it from your mom?"
He thought about that for a while. "Yeah, I suppose so. But what about the other two guys in my trio? If I come out locally, they are going to find out about it."
"So? Do you really think they'd quit the trio if they found out?"
He thought about that for a while, took another big swallow of his beer, and said, "I know a lot of musicians who are gay. In fact, I've wondered if my drummer might not be. But they're great guys. I think we really bond when we're making music together, and, now that you ask, I suspect they probably would be cool with it."
I beamed at him. "See! So what are you worried about, man? It's a new world, Geoff, and we are going to make it even better!"
I thought I had lost him for a moment. His gaze left my face and turned back toward the hot guy with the hair. I looked to see what was happening
While Geoff and I had been talking, watching the guy out of the corner of our eyes, the waitress had brought him a hamburger, fries, and a beer. Now he was finished with those, and he was standing, walking back toward the pool tables with another guy. With that curly red hair to his shoulders, the light-colored shirt, and the dark dress slacks, he was something to see. I think everyone in the room, male or female, watched as he selected a cue from the rack. Soon the two of them were playing together. Geoff was seated so he could see people coming in the door. I was seated so I could see what was happening in the back by the pool tables. I kept getting a fabulous view of the redhead's ass. And what an ass it was! Since it was still September, the guy was wearing a light-weight suit, a tropical worsted, probably, which caressed his thighs and his buns, loose enough to collapse a little into his crack. His ass was ample. Not fat, but enough, you know?
"So, Philip," Geoff whispered, "what are you looking at, what's happening?"
I was tempted to say something about long hard sticks and balls, but I didn't. "Man, you gotta see this for yourself. Take a look!"
He twisted around so he could see, and just then the guy was sprawled over the table to get a tough shot, ass in the air.
At that point I was watching Geoff, not the redhead. I could see the lust in his eyes. Suddenly, he turned around, picked up his mug, and took a big gulp of his beer. Then he stared down at the table.
"Geoff, are you OK? Is something wrong?"
He looked up at me. "No, not really. That's guy's just a little too flashy for my taste, I think."
I laughed. "Well, you may be right. So, we should get over him. He's probably straight anyway, and if he isn't, I pity the guy who would be his partner."
"Can I ask why?"
"Well, think of it, Geoff. Whether you were a man or a woman, actually, if you were that guy's lover, you'd always be wondering if someone else hadn't lured him away from you. Everyone in the room's been watching him. I'll bet he always attracts that kind of attention. Imagine him with others around a table in a conference room, or, better yet, making a presentation. All the women and the gay guys would be salivating for him. And if he's in business of some sort, as he appears to be, what would happen when he's on the road?"
He thought about it for a minute, and then looked at me with a strange look on his face. "Yeah, I can see how that could be a real problem. Besides, who knows, he might be a real prick."
I laughed at that. "So, Geoff, let's forget Mr. Flamboyant over there and go back to what we were talking about."
And we did. We nursed our pitcher along, telling each other about our boyhoods, our high school days, and what we had done so far in college. Of course, I knew more about him than he did about me, but I think we really got to know and feel comfortable with each other. I tried not to get caught looking back at the redhead playing pool. Nothing had changed. I wanted this adorable blond stud, and I was willing to play him like a fish to get him.
TREY:
One day Chaz told me he and some of his basketball buddies were going to have dinner out and go bowling. He invited me to come along, but I would have felt like a fifth wheel and declined.
I've never particularly liked eating alone, though, and I remembered that Max Hewitt didn't like to cook, so I called him and invited him to have dinner with me. He seemed grateful for the invitation and showed up promptly at 6:30 as I had suggested, carrying a bottle of nice merlot.
We hugged when he arrived. I think it was then that I realized what a sexy little bastard he was. Tim's height almost exactly, he was more muscular, with bigger shoulders and chest. He had a shock of thick, chestnut-colored hair which he wore trimmed close on the sides and fairly long on top. His eyes were a chocolate color. His skin was slightly ruddy. Tim had told me after he had seen Max in church that he thought Max looked more like a choirboy than a priest. I could see what he meant. There was a certain innocence, or openness, in Max's face that might seem boyish. But there was a masculine, outdoor quality there, too. Very complex and very attractive. I thought to myself that someone was missing out by not snapping him up.
I said, "Max, I'm fixing beef stir-fry, and we'll have some of the merlot with that, but would you like a beer or a highball now? How about a gin and tonic?"
He smiled and said, "I'll have whatever you're having."
"I'll bet, Max, as a minister you've learned to say that. What would you REALLY like?"
He grinned again. "The g & t sounds great."
I fixed us each a drink, and we went into the living room. It was still summer-warm in northern Ohio, and the A/C felt good. I opened a can of mixed nuts and set them on the coffee table between us.
Max had chosen to wear a collar tee shirt, cargoes, and sandals with no socks. I was dressed the same except that I was barefoot. (Or, "barefooted" as we said back home.) I raised my glass, he raised his, and we each sipped our drink.
I studied his face as we did. Max really was attractive. Don't get me wrong: I wasn't about to be unfaithful to my big lover. But I thought again how sexy the little priest was. I suspected he must be lonely, so I asked him about it.
"Yeah, Trey. I'm with people all day, I'm busy as all get-out, but I go home to an empty house and sleep in an empty bed. Envy is one of the Catholic Church's seven deadly sins, but I envy you and Chaz, Mark and Lori, Cedric and Tim what you have. I keep thinking that there's somebody out there for me."
He paused long enough to eat a handful of nuts and take a swallow of his drink.
"I haven't told Tim this, but I had a lover in seminary."
"Had?"
"Yes. We were very much in love. We had to be discreet. Most of the other students and the faculty knew we were a couple, but we were very careful not to embarrass anyone. We talked a lot about what we would do when we graduated and were ordained. We even thought about trying to go to the same church as co-ministers. Either of us would have been curate to the other's rector."
"What was his name?"
"Andrew."
"Max, what happened? Where is he now?
"He went to Nicaragua the summer before our last year at seminary. He was killed in an ambush." There were tears in his eyes as he said that.
I put my drink down, got up, and moved to sit beside him on the sofa. I hugged him.
"Max, I'm SO sorry."
He put his arms around me and returned my hug. His gorgeous brown eyes were wet when he pulled away and looked at me.
"Trey, I am so glad I was called here to St. Peter's. Not only have I found my old friend Tim, but I've found friends in your `Brotherhood,' too. It means a lot to me to have you guys in my life."
"Max, I think I can speak for the others when I say that you are now a part of the Brotherhood. I know that Chaz and Tim love you. And that glitch with Ced seems to be over now that he understands that you and Tim don't have designs on each other. You DON"T have any designs on Tim, do you?"
He smiled. "Trey, I'd be less than honest if I didn't say that, had things been different, I could have been very happy to be part of a couple with my old friend. I've loved him for a long time, and it really distresses me to think that we were both gay at Kenyon and neither of us knew about the other. But, to answer your question, no, I have no designs on Tim. Anyone can see how much he loves Cedric, and you can be sure I wouldn't try to come between them --even if I could. Besides, Ced's being very kind to me these days. Do you know about the breakfasts?"
I chuckled. "Yeah, I've heard about them. Listen, Max. If you and Tim are running together every morning and Ced has breakfast ready for you when you get back, you can be very sure that he has accepted you."
"Isn't that great? He's a special guy. I can see why Tim is so taken with him."
"Max, have you told Tim about Andrew?"
"I've always meant to, but you know we can't talk much when we're running, certainly not about something like that. And I don't see Tim very often any more without Ced's being around."
"Yeah, I understand that, but you know, man, Tim loves you, and I think he'd ought to know."
"You're right, Trey. I'll look for a time to tell him about Andrew."
"Now," I said, let me fix us another drink. Or would you rather start on the merlot? I think it's about time I started dinner."
"I'll not have another highball, thanks. But I'll have a merlot whenever you do."
"OK." I handed him the bottle, a corkscrew, and two glasses. "You take care of this, and I'll get started."
The mixture of white and wild rice had been cooking as we chatted. The wok was already on the stove. So, I turned on the heat, put some olive oil in it, tossed in a slice of fresh ginger and a clove of garlic. While the oil was heating, I went to the fridge and got out the chopped veggies and the thinly-sliced beef. I also got out the bottle of dry sherry. I went to the pantry and got out the soy sauce and the five-spice powder.
I showed Max where the dishes, glasses, and silverware were and asked him to set the table, which he did. We sipped our wine and chatted as we worked together. He seemed very comfortable helping me, so I assumed that he was more familiar with kitchens than he let on.
"I heard you don't like to cook. But you seem to know your way around a kitchen. So what gives?"
He chuckled. "Two things. I really don't like to cook for myself. It's easier just to heat something from the freezer or to do some kind of packaged food. But when I start from scratch, I have no talent for tasting and seasoning, no imagination, and a good cook has that. So, I admit that I am not a good cook."
I couldn't help thinking that working in the kitchen with someone who liked to cook and had some imagination could do wonders for Max in short order, but didn't think it wise to say so, especially after he had told me how lonely he was.
Soon everything was ready. We dipped up rice and the stir-fry at the stove and took our plates to the table.
I asked Max if he'd return thanks, and he did.
Then we dug in.
After his first taste, he closed his eyes and smiled. "Trey, this is marvelous. You've inspired me. I've got to try making it. Would you give me your recipe?"
"Don't have one, Max. You saw what I did. If you'd like, I'll write down all the ingredients and explain what to do. Do you have a wok?"
"No."
"Well, that's essential, I'm afraid. But if you get a wok, you can be making stir-fry right away. There's no magic to it at all."
"It's a deal, Trey. I'll get the wok. Then maybe you can email me the instructions."
After we had the dinner mess cleaned up, I made coffee, which we took back into the living room along with bowls of rocky road ice cream.
As we were spooning in the dessert, I remembered something and chuckled.
"What's funny?"
"You've met David Taylor, right?"
"Sure. He was at your party. And he came to St. Peter's once. He told me he liked my sermon but that church wasn't his thing. Other than that, we've never talked. I've wondered why he came to church that morning."
I could think of one reason, but I didn't say anything about that. "Since you know David, I think you'll enjoy hearing about something that my friend Geoff Benson told me about the other day."
Max looked very interested, but he merely said, "Geoff? That's the guy with the jazz trio isn't it?"
"Yeah. And you have to understand, Geoff doesn't know David. Has never met him. Has no idea who he is."
Max smiled and said, "OK."
"So, Geoff and a friend were in a bar the other night after the SGA meeting. This was the first time they had ever done anything together, so they were still at the stage of getting to know each other over a pitcher of beer."
Max nodded and said, "I see."
"So it's 9:30 or 10:00 at night, and this guy comes in in a business suit. He takes off his coat, removes his tie, unbuttons his collar, rolls up his sleeves, and sits down. Then the server comes over to take his order. He asks for a burger and fries and a beer. Then he reaches behind his head and lets down his pony tail, and it's this flaming red hair! Now, I ask you, who else in town could it be?"
Smiling again, he said, "Sounds like David. So what happened next?"
"When he finished his burger, he took his beer back to the pool tables and got into a game with someone. I guess Geoff and his friend spent the rest of the evening watching David's ass and adjusting their hardons."
"Both of them found him pretty sexy, then?"
"Apparently, although Geoff said he really thought the guy was a little too flamboyant for his taste. Just between you and me, I suspect Geoff may be interested in the guy he was with, so he may not have appreciated that guy getting such a rush out of watching David."
Max thought about that for a minute and then said, "Yeah, Trey, I can understand that."
Not long after that, he finished his ice cream and coffee, took the bowl and mug to the kitchen, and thanked me for the meal and the evening.
"I'd like to reciprocate, Trey, but, believe me, you don't want to sample my cooking. Maybe I can take you out some evening."
"I have another suggestion, Max. You get a wok. Then some evening when Chaz is bowling with his buddies, I'll come over and we'll fix stir-fry together."
"Send me the list of ingredients, and we'll do it!"
We hugged and he left. After he was gone, I had this sense that there was something pertaining to that conversation about David that I hadn't picked up on. Wonder what it could have been? Maybe it just had something to do with his missing Andrew.
MAX:
I had a lot to think about when I got home after being with Trey. Actually, although I enjoyed being with Trey, I was a little depressed.
I feel drawn to Trey. Damn, now that I've written that I see how pathetic that makes me look. Am I just horny? No, I don't think that's it, though of course I AM horny. Trey is a great-looking guy. He seems to have a perfect bod, he's got a handsome face, that tawny hair, and fascinating hazel eyes. But it's the man he is that attracts me. He exudes this feeling of understanding. Come to think of it, he'd make a great priest. He makes you feel as if he's right there with you, that he understands what you are feeling. At times when I'm with him, I feel almost as if Trey were the older man. Maybe that's why I told him about Andrew. It's not as if I'm developing a thing for Trey. I know he's taken. But I do like him and am glad to have his friendship.
Telling Trey about Andrew did bring back a lot of memories, most of them exceptionally happy ones. But then there was that stab of pain in my chest when I remembered I'd never see him again in this life. I've had something that all too few people have had: someone I loved totally, completely, perfectly, someone who loved me that way, too. It hadn't lasted very long, but if I never found another man, at least I had known that kind of love.
And then Trey told me that story about Geoff Benton and his friend sitting there ogling David without knowing who he was. Trey's take on it was that the other guy was really turned on by David. Well, why not? David is sex on wheels. Certainly that's the way I reacted to him. I've read Chaz's journal, and I've seen the guy a few times. I suppose it's not surprising that I'd be turned on. I'm healthy, male, and gay. But David is the kind of man who can have his choice of partners, a new one every night, I imagine, if that's what he wants. And, though he was been friendly enough that morning after church, at the party I had the impression he just wasn't interested in me at all.
Am I in love with David Taylor? I don't think so. I don't really know him. Am I in lust with him? You bet! Is that pathetic or what?
["Night" 05 will be posted in about a week. Chapter 27 of this story should be posted in about two weeks.]