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.
Thanks as always to Tom W., my patient, hardworking editor, and occasional co-author. Thanks also to Evan, Patrick, Ash, and Mickey.
Timmead88@yahoo.com Chapter 27: Developments
Jared had to walk nearly three miles to the Cousins' house from the mall that evening. He took back streets as much as possible because his jeans were soaked with urine. He still was stared at by a number of passers-by, and he wanted to die, but he didn't see nearly as many people as he would have if he'd gone the most direct route. He alternated being scared by the threats of the six tall guys who had accosted him and his friends in the mall parking lot and being furious that Richie left him there to walk home. Some friend!
He was in luck in that his parents were not home yet from playing bridge with friends. He could see, however, that there was a light on in Jessica's room, which meant that his sister was home, but then it was after 11:00, their curfew on school nights. He let himself in with his key and went quietly upstairs, hoping he could get past the door of Jess's room without having to stop and talk. As he passed her door, she said, "Hey Jare, how was the movie?"
"Not bad," he said. "I'll get changed and then come see ya for a minute, OK?" For years he and his twin sister had talked a while about their day before they separated to go to their own rooms and go to bed.
Jared stripped and threw all the urine-soaked clothes in his laundry basket. Then he took a shower. When he had dried himself, he pulled on sweatpants, a white tee shirt, and white socks. He took the soiled clothing to the basement, where he threw them into the washing machine. He added enough other dirty clothes to make a load and started the machine. He knew his mother would fuss at him the next day for not separating his jeans from his underwear, shirt, and socks, but that was better than having her find the stinky things in his laundry basket.
On his way through the kitchen he grabbed some cookies from the cookie can and got himself a glass of milk. He yelled up the stairs, "Jess, you want somethin' from the kitchen?"
"No, thanks."
He wolfed the cookies, drank the milk, put the glass in the dishwasher, and went upstairs. He entered his sister's room and sat on the bed. "So, Sis, whassup? How was your German Club meeting?"
"You ask me what's up? You want to know about German Club? You come up the front walk with your jeans soaked in piss, and you ask me questions?"
"You could see my jeans were, uh, wet?"
"Of course, dufus, the porch light was on. What happened?"
"Well, it wasn't piss. I spilled a Mountain Dew in my lap."
She turned away from her desk to look directly at him. "Jared, I can tell the difference. When you walked by my door, dear brother, you smelled like piss, not pop. And why didn't Richie bring you home?"
He had never been able to lie to her. "OK, it was piss. And Richie wouldn't let me in his car `cause he was afraid I'd get it on the upholstery. I walked home from the mall."
"Poor baby. But, Jare, how did you happen to piss your pants? You haven't done that since you were about ten."
He hung his head and said, "Oh, God, Sis. I'm SO scared!"
PHILIP:
After the first SGA meeting, Lori Reiter and Mark Mason came up and introduced themselves. Actually, I think she wanted to talk with me and Mark was with her. She's a cute chick. Beautiful eyes, sexy voice, nice figure. But Mason is a real stud. Dark curly hair, intense blue eyes, and dimples. I knew who he was because he plays on the varsity baseball team. Too bad he's straight. But they do make a good-looking couple.
Lori is really intense. Well, I guess I should be able to relate to that. She said she knew Steve Metz and was angry because the police hadn't made an arrest in that case yet. She asked me if I knew the names of the three guys they think attacked Metz. I told her. She didn't write them down or anything, but I knew she would remember those names. I don't know just what she had in mind, but she had a determined look on her face. Then she smiled, she and Mark both shook hands with me, and they went over to see Trey Withers and Geoff Benton for a moment. I wanted to see those guys, too. Someone delayed me, though, so I got there just after Mark and Lori left. That's when I suggested going for a beer. Trey declined, but Geoff and I went to Noplace where we saw that really hot dude with the red hair.
MAX:
After fall semester classes began, Tim and I told Cedric he was excused from breakfast duty since he had an early class. I thanked Ced profusely for all the wonderful breakfasts he had fixed for us during the latter part of the summer. "No problem, Max. I've enjoyed getting to know you better at our breakfast-table talks. And you know I'm sorry about being so mean to you back at the time of that first party, don't you?"
"I do indeed, Ced."
He hugged me.
After classes began, Tim and I decided to fix our own breakfasts separately since we had different schedules, but we continued to run together every morning, weather permitting.
One morning, as we had slowed to a walk, I asked, "What are you doing at lunch time, Tim?"
"No plans. Got something in mind?"
"Yeah, we need to talk. Shall I stop by Fein's and bring something to your office?"
"Actually, I'd rather get out of the office for a while. Otherwise, we'd probably be interrupted, and the faculty lounge will be crowded and noisy at that time. Why don't I come to you?"
"OK, but it's my turn to pay."
He gave me an exasperated look and said, "Yeah, whatever. As if we need to keep track."
We had reached the entrance to his house, so I swatted him on the butt and said, "I'll be there whenever you can make it. Oh, and Tim, I'd like a reuben sub. Those are great. And since we're not arguing about who's paying, how about some coleslaw?"
"Shall I bring wine and dessert, too, Father?" he laughed.
"Nah, that's all right this time."
He got there about 12:30 carrying a box from Fein's with the sandwiches, coleslaw, and lots of paper napkins. I brought us water and had made a fresh pot of coffee. We sat at a table in the parish hall.
As we munched, we talked about his classes, the university's football prospects, the Canterbury Club, and various other things. Finally, he wadded up the sheet of paper that had been wrapped around his sub and put it and the slaw container back in the box.
"OK, Hewitt. Spill it." When I didn't answer immediately, he said, "Max, you said we need to talk. What's up?"
"Tim, I've told Trey something that I should have told you first."
"Trey and I can practically read each others' minds sometimes, so I'd probably find out sooner or later anyway. What's the big deal?" He continued to look at me with his intensely green eyes. Then he said, "Whoa, this is serious, isn't it? I'm sorry, Max. I didn't mean to be flip. What is it?"
"I've never told you about Andrew."
"Andrew?"
"He was my lover."
"You had a lover and you never told me?"
"Well, we can't talk much when we're running. I didn't want to dump all this on you when I first got to town, and later it just seemed as if the time was never right. I'm sorry."
He looked at me very seriously. "You don't need to apologize, Max. Do you want to tell me about him now?"
"Yeah, his name was Andrew, Andrew Garrison. I met him in seminary." I smiled as I remembered. "Timmy, he was so beautiful! He had gone to the College of the Pacific and majored in sociology, but by the time he was at the end of his sophomore year there, he knew he wanted to be a priest. He never wanted to be a suburban parish priest, though. He talked about being in an inner-city church or perhaps doing field work overseas."
Tim continued to look at me intently, but he didn't say anything. When I paused, he just nodded at me to go on.
"As I said, he was beautiful. Radiant. His mother was Chinese, his dad an American. Andrew's Asian genes showed. He had straight black hair, dark eyes. He was a little guy like us, built more like you than me. He had enormous energy. Always getting excited about things. Class projects. Things to do to help people. And always with this intensity. He couldn't sit still. Sometimes he wore me out. And he made love the same way."
Tim smiled.
"It was known around the seminary that we were lovers, but we were careful, so no one said anything. Everyone loved Andrew. You just had to!"
"Max, I can tell how much you loved him. But something must have happened. Do you feel like telling me about that?"
Tears came to my eyes as I thought back on my sweet man and how much I had missed him. "Yeah, Tim. You probably remember three summers ago some people from my church were killed in an ambush in Nicaragua?"
"Yes, of course. Don't tell me . . .?"
"Andrew was one of them."
By this time tears were running down my cheeks. I couldn't help it. Tim came around the table, pulled a chair over, and sat beside me. He put his arms around me and pulled my head down on his shoulder. He was running his fingers through my hair as he said, "Oh, baby, I wish I had known! How awful it must be for you!"
I didn't say anything. It felt good to have him hold me, so I didn't move.
Just then Father John came into the parish hall where Tim and I were sitting. He looked at us, smiled, and said, "I'm sorry. I've interrupted. I'll talk with you later, Max."
"Thanks, Father," Tim said. "We need a few more minutes here I think."
"Take all the time you need," the rector said as he turned to go back to his office.
I pulled away, reached in my pocket for my handkerchief, and blew my nose. "I'm sorry, Tim." Then I smiled. "Father John probably thinks you and I are lovers."
"Well, Max, I do love you, you know. I am glad you finally were able to tell me about Andrew. You must miss him terribly."
"I do, Timmy, I do. It's easier now, and being busy helps, but of course I miss Andrew. I'll always love him and always miss him, but you don't know how much it has helped to have you back in my life. You and all the great guys who've welcomed me into your group."
"We're your family now, Max. All the guys have told me how happy they are to have you with us. But, listen, my friend. When you are having tough moments, please call me. I can't be Andrew for you, but we have always been like brothers. I can listen. Or just be there. I've got plenty of hugs for you, you know."
Damn! I had begun to cry again. "Timmy, you won't misunderstand when I say how much I love you, will you?"
"Of course not, Max. I love you too." He hugged me again. "Now, I have a class in half an hour. Should I call the department and cancel it?"
"No way! You've been my rock, as always. But you get to class and I'll go see what Father John needs. I think I had better tell him a little about Andrew so he won't misunderstand the scene he witnessed here a minute ago."
"I'd be flattered to be thought your lover." Then he grinned. "But we'd really have to be careful about Cedric."
That made me laugh. "Give Ced a hug for me. It's OK to tell him about Andrew. I think he should know, in fact. And, Tim, thanks."
"Sure, babe. I'll call soon to see how you're doing."
STEVE:
I decided I had imposed on Trey and Chaz long enough, so I insisted on moving back to my apartment before classes began.
I told them so one evening at dinner.
"Steve," Trey said, "you know you are welcome to stay as long as necessary."
"Damn right," Chaz chimed in.
"Look, guys, I don't know how to thank you for taking me in. Don't know what I would have done if you hadn't. But I've been a pain in the ass long enough. You are entitled to your privacy, for one thing."
Chaz grinned at Trey. "Oh, we've been managing, haven't we, Tiger?"
Trey grinned back and said, "Yeah, I guess we have."
Chaz, suddenly serious, said, "Steve, I do think it's safe for you to move back into your place. I'm pretty certain those punk kids aren't going to bother you again."
Trey looked at him with one eyebrow raised. "And how can you be so sure?"
Chaz grinned his lopsided grin. "Never mind. Both of you trust me. I don't think those pipsqueaks are gonna be any more trouble. BUT! Steve, you've gotta be careful, man. Don't be outside after dark alone. Stay where there are crowds. Keep your eyes open. Sooner or later, the cops are gonna get those little bastards, but until they do, you need to stay alert, OK?"
"Yeah, Chaz. I get you. And thanks, guy, for your concern."
I knew he was right, that I needed to be careful. I didn't want a repeat of what happened to me. My ribs were still sore from the first time. But, shit, life has to go on, right?
One evening at the beginning of the first week of fall semester classes, the phone in my apartment rang.
It was a woman with a very sexy voice. I recognized it immediately.
"Hi, Steve. This is Lori Reiter. Remember me?"
"Who could forget a beautiful woman like you?" I said.
She laughed, and her laugh made my cock begin to stiffen. "Oh, Steve, you are very suave. How are you feeling? Any pain left?"
"Not enough to worry about, Lori. How are you and Mark?"
"We are both well, thanks. And we are hoping to see you soon. I have talked with Rebecca Stein. She is a very nice person, I think. Let me give you her phone number. I think she would be willing to go to dinner and perhaps a film with you, Mark, and me this weekend."
"Lori, that sounds great!"
She gave me the phone number, and I copied it down.
"But, Steve, I must warn you. Rebecca remembers you as being somewhat, shall we say, brash. I told her that, from what I had heard, and from my experience with you recently, you had changed. I hope you won't be offended if I tell you that she said she thought you were bright, good-looking, but something of an arrogant son of a bitch."
"Woops! Well, Lori, I guess I deserved that. How did you persuade Rebecca to agree to this date?"
She chuckled, and I loved that Dietrich sort of voice. "As I've told you, I assured her that you had grown up over the summer and that I think you are a very nice boy."
"Wow! What a tribute. Thanks, Lori. I'll call Rebecca this evening."
"Yes, you should do that. Please call me back this evening or tomorrow to let me know the results of your talk, OK?"
"Yeah, that sounds great. And, Lori, thanks!"
She laughed again, and by this time I had a full-fledged boner. "You are quite welcome, Steve. Good luck with Rebecca."
"Thanks, Lori. Give my best to Mark, please."
"I shall, Steve. Goodbye for now."
"Bye."
Well, to make a long story short, I screwed up my courage and called this girl I remembered from my class with Tim Mead as being really bright, outgoing, and pretty sexy. I wasn't sure why she would agree to go out with me. I chalked it up to Lori's persuasive powers. Come to think of it, why would Lori want to get involved? I decided it best not to wonder too much about that, but just to be grateful for all the good things that had happened to me over the summer.
I called Rebecca, she said she'd like to join Mark, Lori, and me for the evening this coming Saturday. I thanked her and said I'd get back to her later about when we'd pick her up.
JARED:
Yeah, I told Sis everything. It's always been that way. We don't keep secrets. She's the only person in the whole world who knows I'm gay. I told her when I was fourteen. She suggested that I ought to tell Mom and Dad, but she's never told my secret. We've always been able to talk to each other. We've always been there for each other. But she's the "dominant twin." She's much stronger than I am, emotionally. She has a kind of mental toughness, too, that I wish I had. She's good at math and science and German. I like literature and playing the French horn. That makes me sort of a typical gay nerd, right?
Well, I don't want to be the typical gay nerd. That's why I was glad to be able to hang out with Jeremy and Richie. They seemed to like me. They let me come along with them just about everywhere they went. This past summer was fun. We'd go to the muny pool every afternoon to work on our tans and look at the girls. I pretended to be as turned on as they were. They'd strut around in their speedos, so I did that, too. I even had some girls come up to me and start a conversation. I guess they liked my bod in my speedo.
I think we were laughing and talking with some girls when the Metz guy saved the kid. At least none of us saw it. So we didn't know why he suddenly had this bunch of young kids around him. It was Richie, who else, who pointed to Metz and the little kids. He said only some damn fag pedo would be spending time with children like that. Jeremy laughed and said Richie was right. But then, Jeremy does that a lot.
We kept coming back to the pool every day, and every day there was the Metz guy surrounded by more and more kids. Richie asked the lifeguard, a university dude named Alford, what the deal was with Metz and the kids. He explained how Metz had saved the little girl's life when he, Alford, was too far away to get to her.
"I'm just glad," he said, "that Metz was there. He save Bridget and he saved my ass, too!"
"Big deal," Richie said. "But why does a college guy like that let all those little kids hang around him? There's gotta be something wrong with that, man!"
"What's so wrong with that?" Alford asked. "Metz is just being nice to those kids. They think he's some kind of hero. He seems to enjoy them. It's all cool."
"Yeah, right." Richie said, winking at Jeremy. "Like one of us would want to be surrounded by little kids every day."
"Yeah, right," Jeremy said. They high fived, though I couldn't quite understand why.
Well, anyway, Richie seemed to have this obsession with Metz. Said he was probably a pervert, that he might be molesting the kids when no one was looking, or after they all left the pool. After a few days, he convinced Jeremy that we should do something. I thought Richie was the one who was sick, but I was afraid to say anything. I knew how nasty Richie could get when he was mad at you, so I sort of went along. At least, I didn't object. I know now I should have, but I was afraid they'd turn on me, and I wanted to be one of their friends. They hung with a cool crowd, and being their buddy let me hang with the same group.
I think my parents would have trusted Jess with a car, but not me. And a brother and sister can't very well share a car. I don't think they could have afforded two cars for us, at least not the kind of cars we would have wanted to be seen in. So, neither of us had a car. Jess seemed cool with that. She had lots of friends who had cars, so she had no trouble getting wherever she wanted to go.
With me, it was different. Richie's car got me places. Richie, I guess, looking back on it, was the price I paid for those wheels.
It was Richie who came up with the idea of doing the stuff to Metz's car. Jeremy thought that was a great idea. Later, Richie managed somehow to find out where Metz lived (there's some sort of campus directory he got a hold of), and came up with the idea of the brick and the note. What was I going to do? They teased me sometimes about being a wuss anyway. One day Richie actually asked me if I was a fag, which I vigorously denied. I knew if I objected to their harassment of Metz, they'd dump me as their buddy. And what they were doing didn't really hurt anybody, did it? At least that's what I told myself at the time.
When Richie explained the plan to jump Metz in his parking lot, I did object.
"Yeah, Jare, you little fag. I might have known you'd be chicken about this."
"I'm not chicken. I just think beating up on the guy, three against one, is too much. After all, what has he really done that we know for sure?"
Riche looked at Jeremy and rolled his eyes. "I always knew this guy was a wuss. What are we gonna do with him?"
"Well," Jeremy said, "either he's with us or he's not. What's it gonna be, Jare? You our buddy or not? We gonna get this fag and keep him from hurting those kids or not?"
"Sure, Jeremy, I'm your buddy, it's just that . . . "
"Yeah," Richie said, putting his arm around my shoulder. "Jare's our buddy. He's gonna help us, aren't ya, Jare?"
God! I wish I had had the guts right then to tell him what a jerk he was. But I didn't. "Whatever you say, Richie."
He and Jeremy high fived. "See," Richie said, "Jare's OK. Now, let's get this thing planned."
I knew the guy's first name was Steve. But I had to think of him as Metz, the pedo, the child molester, just so I could get through what we were going to do to him.
The night we jumped him, he fought us. He managed to kick Richie in the balls. Richie went down, swearing. He was on his knees for a while. I thought for a minute he was going to puke, but he didn't. (Richie walked funny for a couple of days. When he got teased about it, he told people he'd had an accident playing football.) Meanwhile, Jeremy had his arm around Metz's neck, with his elbow under Metz's chin. He hooked a foot around Metz's ankle, and he went down. Then Jeremy started kicking him. By that time Richie was up, and he was kicking him, too. Metz went into a sort of fetal position, trying to cover his head with his hands and his package by drawing his knees up. About then Richie looked at me and said, "Well, Jare, are you in this or not?"
I was sick to my stomach seeing what they were doing to Metz, but I gave him a couple of kicks, too, so Richie and Jeremy wouldn't be mad at me.
"So, Sis," I said, "that's what happened."
"God, Jare, I can't believe this! Do you know how badly the guy was hurt?"
"I hear he spent a few days in the hospital. Richie said he had lots of bruises and some cracked ribs. But Rich didn't know what happened to him after that. He never went back to his apartment."
"I don't know what the legal term is, but you've committed a crime. Do the police have any idea that you were involved?"
"Yeah, there was some sergeant with a strange name asking questions. I guess Metz told the cops about Richie's tat and said he saw that when Richie fell down after getting kicked in the nuts."
"Then why aren't you in jail?" Trust Sis to ask the tough questions.
"Because all three of us said we were at the movies that night. It's our word against Metz's."
Jess came over and sat beside me on the bed. She took one of my hands in both of hers. "Jare, what you guys did is really bad, you know?"
"Yeah, Sis, I know. But what am I gonna do now?"
"I think you have to tell Mom and Dad. And then I think you have to go to the police."
"Jess, I can't do that. I'll probably go to jail. That will be the end of me. I won't get to go to college. Won't get to even graduate from high school. Sis, you've GOT to promise not to tell anybody. This was just between us! Come on, promise me you won't tell a soul about this."
"Baby brother," she said. (I hate when she does that. She's ten minutes older than me.) You're in deep shit whatever happens. But you'd be in a lot less trouble if you stepped up and told the police about it."
"God, Jess, I can't do that. I'm scared. Scared of the police, scared of what Richie and Jeremy might do."
"Well, look. I promise I'll keep quiet for a few days. That's all I can do for now. Meanwhile, sweetheart, you need to do some SERIOUS thinking. You know what's right and what's wrong. We were brought up right. Think what Mom and Dad would want you to do. Think about everything we learned in church."
Well, that did it. I began to bawl. I felt so bad, I just sat there on her bed and cried. She put her arms around me.
"It's OK, Jare. We'll figure out what to do. I will always love you, you know."
"Thanks, Sis," I sniffled. "I'm sorry I have been so stupid and let you and Mom and Dad down. But there's got to be some way out of this without going to the police."
She smiled. "We'll both think about it for a day or two. After that, if we haven't come up with something we can both live with, you're going to have to fess up and face the music, Jare. Just remember that Mom, Dad, and I love you."
"You don't know all of it yet, Jess. Tonight, as we were coming out of the movie, we were surrounded by six real tall guys. You know, like professional basketball players or something. They all had on stocking masks, jeans, and dark tee shirts, just exactly what we had on when we jumped Metz. They said they knew we had done it. They told us that if anything else happened to Metz, they'd come after us. And they said if we were smart we'd go to the police and confess. It was when they had us surrounded and we were standing there craning our necks to look up to them, that I got so scared I peed my pants."
"So, these guys know that it was you three who attacked Metz. I suppose he is their friend."
"Yeah, I guess. By the way, as they were leaving, they said that no way is he gay, no way is he a pedo. So after all this, Richie was wrong about Metz, and we've hurt an innocent guy. I feel sick, Sis."
She picked up my hand again. "Jared, I'm not going to remind you what you've done wrong. You know that. But you have to really think about this. What is the right thing to do now?"
"Jess, I'm not stupid. A total coward, probably, but not stupid. I know what I should do. But I'm scared to death to do it. Promise you won't tell the parents?"
"Like I said, I'll give you a couple of days. That way, we can both think it over. After that, I won't do anything without telling you."
"Thanks, Sis. I had hoped for more, but I guess I don't deserve even that much." I stood up, kissed her on the top of the head, and started for my room.
"Goodnight, Jare. I love you, babe."
"Love you, too. Thanks."
The next morning at school I was at my locker, when Richie and Jeremy came up. Richie turned me 90 degrees so I was facing him. Jeremy stood facing my locker so he was blocking everyone else's view of what was happening. Richie grabbed my balls and squeezed. It was all I could do not to yell in pain.
"Pissed your pants again lately, Jare?"
"Ugh, Richie, that hurts man, please let go."
"Well, if you are even thinking of telling anyone what we did, your balls will be hurting a lot more than mine did after the bastard kicked me. If you keep your mouth shut, things around here will be cool, and we'll all stay buds. If you don't, you'll be in deep shit man. Jeremy and I can see to that."
He gave my balls another vicious squeeze. I almost passed out. Then he and Jeremy walked on down the hall laughing while I rested against the lockers and tried to keep from puking.
TIM:
I had no class for the fall quarter at 10:00, so I listed that as one of my "office hours." I was sitting there looking through my notes for the upcoming intro to fiction class at 11:00 when Becky Stein appeared in the dooryway.
"Busy, Dr. Mead?"
I stood up and came around the desk. "Becky, I'm glad to see you!" We shook hands. "Do you have time to sit and visit for a while?"
"Yes, I came by to say hello and see how you were doing." She sat in one of the chairs in front of my desk, and I took the other, turning it to face her.
"I'm doing well, thanks, Becky. How about you? How was your summer?"
"It was fun, actually. I took a wonderful art course sponsored by Case Western and the Cleveland Museum of Art. Played tennis and swam in the afternoons."
"I didn't know you live in Cleveland."
Becky, as I should have mentioned sooner, is intelligent, unusually sensitive to others' moods and feelings. She's about my height, with a nice figure, curly brown hair, and hazel eyes.
She smiled and said, "Yeah, I live in Shaker actually. And I hear that you and Ced Jones are an item."
Woops! "An item?"
"Hey, I think it's great. Ced's a great guy, and a real hunk. I just love him. He's got such a sweet disposition. It's wonderful you two are together. Oh, now you're blushing. I'm sorry. I've been too familiar. I'd better go."
"No, Becky, please don't leave. You just took me by surprise, that's all."
"What did I say that surprised you? It's all true, isn't it?"
"First of all, Cedric is sharing my place with me, helping pay the rent. Keeping me out of it for the moment, what makes you think Cedric is gay?"
She seemed to be enjoying all of this. "Well, keeping you out of it, I've known Cedric since high school. I knew he and Francis Jefferson were having an affair all during their senior year. I was a junior at the time. Ced was the star of the Shaker Heights baseball team, and Francis was an all-state line-backer. They were very careful, but I think a bunch of us knew. I also know that, unlike his roommate Mark Mason and his friends Trey Withers and Chaz Greeley, Ced hasn't dated since he came here to State. Francis went off to Oberlin and found himself another boyfriend, I hear. I watched Cedric look at you in lit class all last semester. The boy has a major crush on you. If you and he are living together, it must mean that you've become a couple. Oh, by the way, I imagine Trey Withers is pretty unhappy these days, `cause I think he had a thing for you last semester, too."
Stunned as I was by this revelation, I had to laugh. "Becky, I'm glad I don't cheat on my income tax."
"Why is that, Dr. Mead?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye.
"Because if I did, you'd probably know that, too. Nothing gets past you, does it?"
"Not much, especially with people I like."
"Well, let's see. What can I tell you? Ced is my roommate. We are observing the university's non-fraternization rule in that he won't take any more of my classes. I'll tell him you send your good wishes."
Still looking like the cat who swallowed the canary, Becky said, "OK, I get it. You aren't out, and you aren't going to out yourself and the school's star third baseman to me. I understand. But I want you to know, as I said, I think it's wonderful that two such sweet guys are together."
"Thanks, Becky. And I hope I can count on your discretion."
"You know it, professor. Now, I do have another question, nothing terribly personal this time."
"What's that?"
"I've heard wonderful things about the Lost Generation class you gave this summer. I see you aren't doing that this term. Is there any chance it will come up again in the spring semester?"
"Your timing is impeccable. I've just heard that, on the strength of an article I wrote being published in "Studies in the Literary Imagination" and the fact that several university presses, including Harvard U. Press, are actually considering my book on Dos Passos, I've been told I may offer that course again in the spring term."
"Oh, that's wonderful. I'm looking forward to that. You'll have a big class, I'm sure. Like I said, everybody's been talking about it."
"How do they know, since that was a summer course?"
"Well, Trey Withers, who's now an English major I understand, and several of the others have been raving about it. Trey says it was the two classes he had with you that made him decide he wanted to become an English professor himself."
"I didn't know that you knew Trey."
"Well, he was in that same class with Ced last spring, the modern lit class. But Lori Reiter and I are good friends. Lori and Mark Mason are inseparable these days, and Trey has been a close buddy of Mark's since they were freshmen. So. That's how I know."
"Wow! You do have your finger on the pulse of things around the English Department, don't you?"
She laughed. "Call me a gadfly if you want. But we have so many great people, I just love being an English major. Now, speaking of people, may I ask you something?"
I tried to look serious. "Rebecca, you may ask, but I won't promise an answer."
She laughed again, and I had to laugh with her. "I think this is one you may safely answer. I've got a date with Steve Metz this weekend."
I started to say something, but she held up her hand, so I waited.
"Now, I remember Steve as cocky and arrogant, but not much interested in what was going on in that class we took together. I assume you know Lori, don't you?"
"Oh, yes."
"Well, you would, I guess, if Ced's ex-roommate spends all his time with her. I've known Lori since she first came here last fall. She's an incredible woman. And it's Lori who pretty much pushed me into agreeing to go out with Steve. We're going to double date, in fact."
"OK, so where's the question in all that?"
"Lori says he's changed. I hope to hell he has, because if he hasn't there'll never be a second date."
"Well, girl, have I got a story to tell you!"
She laughed merrily at that.
"I think Steve wouldn't mind my telling you that he was one of only three people who aced the Lost Generation course this summer. He's gotten interested in his courses now that he knows what he wants to do with his life, and when he turns that first-rate mind loose on a course, he very naturally does well in it."
She looked impressed. "I heard something about him majoring in English."
"He thought about it. But he's decided that what he really wants to do is become a pediatric nurse. So he has switched to the nursing program here at State."
"Wow!"
"Now, there are some other things you should know that might help you understand this remarkable guy you'll be dating."
I told her about Steve's saving little Bridget Sowards' life and about the ensuing harassment and attack that sent him to the hospital.
"Steve has changed. He's done a lot of growing up in these few months. I can't tell you what he'll be like on a date. But I can tell you that I like and respect him a lot."
Again, the merry smile. "That's good enough for me. With you and Lori both vouching for him, I'll look forward to this weekend."
Then she stood, so I did, too. She came over and gave me a quick peck on the cheek.
"Thanks, Tim. You and Ced are both pretty lucky. I'm happy for you."
And with that, she was gone, leaving me flabbergasted again. `A kiss for the prof? Tim, huh?' I decided Steve might, if he played his cards right, be a pretty lucky guy.
That evening about 10:30 I was at my computer. Ced came in and began to massage the muscles of my neck and shoulders. "Mmmm! That feels so good!"
Continuing the massage, he asked, "You about ready to knock off and come to bed?"
"Yeah, babe, I can quit here anytime. Just let me save this and shut down." Which I did.
"Now, baby, sit down a minute. I learned some things today I haven't had a chance to tell you." He sat, and I swiveled the desk chair around to face him.
"You remember Rebecca Stein?"
"Sure, she went to my high school, but I didn't know her very well then. Still don't. I see her now and then on campus, and she was in that class with you last spring. Why?"
"Well, she knew that you and Francis were a couple back in high school. And she has figured out that you and I are a couple now."
He grinned. "No flies on that girl." Then: "Shit! How did she figure out we're a couple?"
"She said she knew all semester that you had a crush on me, that she could tell by looking at you. She also said she knew Trey had feelings for me, too. Then she said that if you and I were living together, she was sure you were more than just my roommate."
"Damn. What did you do?"
"I stonewalled. I didn't say anything to admit that we're lovers. But she knows."
"Do you think she'll keep quiet about it?"
"Yeah, I am pretty sure we can trust her. She's an amazing gal. Oh, and she told me she has a double date with Mark and Lori this weekend. Guess who the guy is."
"Steve."
"How'd you know?"
"Hey, Mark, Trey, Chaz, and I worked out this evening. You're going to have to join us, you know. We'd work your ass off, and you need it. Come to think of it, it's your upper body that needs a little toning up. That ass is fine. Must be the running that does it!"
"Yeah, well, leaving my pathetic body out of it for a minute, you haven't answered my question."
"Oh, sorry, I was thinking about your ass. What was the question?"
"How did you know Becky has a date with Steve? No, wait. Let me guess. Mark told you, right?"
He grinned and leaned toward me. "Yeah, Sherlock, that's right. Now, give me a kiss!"
Some minutes later, I said, "Before this gets too intense, there's something else I want to tell you about."
"OK, but it better not take too long. I'm STILL thinking about your ass."
"Cool it, hot stuff. This is important. Besides, I know all I have to do is wiggle my ass a little to get you heated up again later."
"You got that right!"
So, I told him about my lunch with Max and the tragic end to his affair with Andrew.
"Oh, Tim, that's so sad. Poor Max. He's been keeping that bottled up all this time? It must have been killing him."
"Max is one of the strongest people I know, Ced, but he's obviously been hurting."
Tears came to Cedric's eyes. "Tim, I've got to make a point of getting with Max. I feel like such a bastard for the way I treated him. He really needed you and still needs you. You're his best friend. I know that. I've got to apologize again and make him know that I understand what you two are to each other. And I want to tell him that I'm here for him, too."
"Cedric, I love you. Please do talk with Max sometime. Tell him what you've just told me. Let him know that he has friends who love him. As I told you, Trey already knows about Andrew. I imagine Trey has told Chaz. So I know our group will make a point of giving Max extra support."
"Yeah, and maybe we can find him a guy," Cedric said, grinning.
"Don't rush that. I think it's better to just see what happens. In his work or through our friends, he just may meet someone. Or . . . I just got an idea. Trey says he and Geoff Benton went to a meeting of the SGA the other evening. Maybe Max should start going to that."
"What if he asked you to go with him?"
"What if he asked US to go with him?"
"Well, Tim, they there's safety in numbers. I need to think about it, but it's an idea. Now, babe, get up and walk to the bedroom. I want to see that ass wiggle."
I did my best, and it got the result both Cedric and I wanted.
CODA:
[coda, fr. Latin cauda, a tail. Music: a more or less independent passage added to the end of a section or composition so as to reinforce the sense of conclusion.]
Before they got from the computer room to the bedroom, Cedric had picked up Tim and carried him to the bed, where he dumped him unceremoniously. Tim rolled onto his back and grinned up at Cedric.
"What now, Kong?"
Following the cue, Cedric beat on his chest with both fists. "Me rapem you?"
Tim, nearly convulsed with laughter, began to take off his shirt.
Cedric, who had found the gift of articulate speech once more, said, "No, Jane, I'll do it."
"Hey, ape man, you have to decide whether you're Kong or Tarzan, but go ahead and undress me if you want. Just don't call me `Jane'!" I'm a guy, and I don't even want to fantasize about being anything else."
"Yeah, yeah. I can't imagine being fucked by Jane. So get up and let me get you out of your clothes."
Tim sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stood up. "OK, you masterful brute, have your wicked way with me!"
"Oh, little man, you better believe I'm gonna do that. I'm still thinking about that hot ass of yours, you know!"
Cedric undressed his lover, who in turn undressed Cedric. They pulled back the covers on the bed and fell into it.
They wound up with Cedric on his back, Tim lying on top of him. Tim began sucking on that very sensitive spot where the neck joined the shoulder. He humped his hard cock against Cedric's belly. Cedric licked his middle finger and then stuck it up Tim's butthole.
"I love giving you hickeys, hunk, because on you they don't show."
"They do, too! Maybe not as much on that alabaster skin of yours, little man, but I've had to drape a towel around my shoulders in the gym a couple of times."
"So, do you want me to stop?"
"Oh, God, no. Don't stop, please. That's fantastic."
So Tim licked and humped while Cedric continued to massage Tim's nut. It was such a great feeling for Ced to see his man nearly out of his mind with arousal that he didn't mention that his hard, leaking cock was waving in the air somewhere between Tim's legs and below his balls. Given the difference between their sizes, frottage wasn't possible unless Tim's face was against Ced's chest.
Eventually, despite his frenzied sucking and humping, it registered on Tim that something was wrong. He wasn't hearing anything from his partner.
He pushed himself up with his hands and looked down at Cedric's beautiful face. "Baby, I'm being selfish. I'm sorry. Here, let me fix it." He slid down Cedric's by-now sweaty body until his face was between his lover's pects. Nuzzling around until he found a nipple, he began to suck, and he resumed his humping. This time, however, Cedric's substantial tool was caught between their bellies, and Ced, too began to grind his cock against Tim.
This went on for some time. When Cedric felt that he was getting too close to coming, he lifted Tim up.
"Baby, this is sweet. But it ain't what I need right now."
"What, then?" Tim asked, frustrated to be interrupted.
"Let me show you."
Cedric slid out from under Tim, flipped him over on his stomach, pulled his rump into the air, and began to tickle Tim's rosebud. "I told you, honey, that I need your ass tonight."
"Far be it from me . . . ." He didn't get to finish because Cedric shoved his head down against the mattress.
"It won't be far from you at all, so just shut up." He began to rim Tim's pucker, which opened quickly so that Cedric could insert his tongue into the hot, pulsing, ass-ring. Soon Tim was alternately telling Cedric never to quit what he was doing and begging Cedric to fuck him immediately and hard.
Cedric continued the tonguing until HE was ready to quit, and then he turned his little lover over and mounted him. They were able to look each other in the eye, gauging each other's reactions as Cedric first entered and then pumped in and out of Tim.
"Oh, God, baby," Tim said, "I love to watch your face as you fuck me! I can tell that this isn't just sex for you, but that you love me. You love sending me over the moon."
"Oh, shut up, professor. You don't have to analyze everything," Cedric said, grinning, as he slapped Tim's ass.
The slap did it. Tim clenched his ass muscles, arched his back, tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and shot volleys of cum over his stomach and chest. That, in turn, brought on Cedric's orgasm. He, too, tensed, arched his back, shoved his cock as far into Tim as it would go, and, shuddering, released his load. When he was once more conscious, he rolled over onto his back, staying inside Tim, holding Tim on top of him. Eventually, though, Sneaky pulled out of Tim's ass with a soft `plop,' but neither of them heard it. They were too happy.
And there you have a "tail" with a tale of a tail.
[Chapter 28 should be posted a week from today. -- T.M.]