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Obsession
It's not that I wasn't aware of my foolish behavior. I knew perfectly well that I was obsessed with him. Certainly, I knew he was unavailable to me. He was twenty-six years older than I, married with two teen-aged children. Thinking about it after all these years, I wonder how I could have been so foolish as to fall in love with someone so unattainable.
It was way back in the year 1960, and I was twenty-two years young. I moved to Wyandotte, MI from Kitty Hawk, NC with the expectation of returning to college, to earn an undergraduate degree, and to go on to study medicine. Unfortunately, none of that worked out for me.
I got a job at Henry Ford Hospital in the Kitchen Staff Department. Not only that, but I was lucky enough to rent a studio apartment within walking distance of the hospital. I'd never be late to work even in an abysmal snow storm like those hundreds of other employees who'd have to drive -- or take a bus -- from God knows how far away, if they could get there at all. As soon as I settled, I tried to make friends and a life for myself. I met plenty of people at work, but I had little in common with them. You see ... I'm gay.
I started to attend a Lutheran Church not too far from my bachelor apartment and the hospital. I reckoned that even if I didn't meet any other gays, I would meet people of like mind, with whom I could relate.
I met Mark and his family the very first Sunday I attended the church. I went to the social hall after the service with little expectation of making friends that first time. I just wanted people to see me, and know that I belonged there. I ached to make friends badly, but I was willing to go slow and not rush things.
An absolutely beautiful, stunning, man was talking to the pastor in front of the coffee urn. I fell in love with him immediately. My cock started to throb. I knew he was straight because he was wearing a wedding ring, but I didn't care. I just had to meet him. I walked over to where he and the pastor were standing.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," I said, "but I just wanted to introduce myself, Pastor. I just moved from Kitty Hawk, North Carolina and I haven't met a soul in town yet," I lied. Not only did the pastor shake my hand, but so did the gentleman who was talking to him.
"I'm Mark Whalen," he said as he pumped my hand way too hard. "I'm president of the church board of directors."
"Sandy Brown," I said simply.
Somebody called the pastor, and he excused himself.
"Come with me, Sandy," Mark said, "I'd like you to meet my wife and kids." Apparently they were talking to a whole group of people, and when we got there Mark introduced me to everyone, saving his family for last.
Mark's wife, Marilynn, greeted me cordially, as did his seventeen year old daughter, Grace. Mark, Jr. was less friendly, but he did shake my hand and wish me well in my new city. Junior was Grace's twin, and he was even more handsome than his father, but I had no designs on him. It was his father I wanted to wrap up in my arms and make love to. I was obsessed by his mature beauty.
We chatted for a few minutes, and then I said, "It was a pleasure to meet y'all, I'm sure, an' I hope to see y'all next Sund'y."
I turned to leave, but Mark grabbed my arm. "You said you were new in town. Do you have any plans for this afternoon?"
"None at all," I answered.
"Then I insist that you have lunch with us."
"That's very kind of you, Sir, but I have no transportation, and no way to get home."
"Not a problem," Mark said. "I'll drive you home."
I swear, when he said that he looked at me in such a way, that I foolishly believed he was trying to seduce me. At the very least, I could see that he wanted to be my friend.
I squeezed into the back of his car with the twins. Junior never spoke to me once, but Grace chattered away. I think she saw me as a possible paramour. I saw signs that indicated we were in Grosse Point Shores, an obviously very affluent area.
The minute we got into the house, Mark informed the cook that there would be one more for lunch. It didn't faze her at all.
I glanced around the richly furnished home. There was a baby grand piano in the living room, and it was full of pictures of Grace in an ice skating outfit. I got really excited. "Do you skate?" I asked her. "Yes, I've been in a few competitions. I even won a couple."
"That's wonderful," I said. "I used to compete in pairs, but my partner got married and moved to Arizona. We won a couple of competitions also, and I never tried to find another partner."
"Oh, Sandy," she pleaded. "Please go skating with me. Nobody I know skates, and I was just about to give it up. Now I'm thinking we might make good partners."
This was going better than I dreamed. If I took Grace skating every weekend, I could get to know Mark better and better. "Sure," I said with the broadest smile that I could manage. "How `bout next Saturd'y?"
"You're on," she smiled back.
"There's a problem," I said. "I don't have a car, and I'll have to take public transportation. You'll have to tell me where the rink is."
"Don't worry about that," Grace said. "I got my license a few months ago." She looked at her father. "Daddy, may I borrow the car?"
"Sure," he said, and then he gave me that smile again. "Bring Sandy back to the house for dinner, Grace," he said, "and I'll drive him home."
After lunch, Mark surprised me. I would have thought that the family would sit and chat for a while, but Mark said, "C'mon Sandy. I'll take you home."
Grace and I took the time to exchange telephone numbers, and I gave her my address. "I'll pick you up at 1 PM," she informed me.
The moment we got into the car, Mark asked, "You're gay aren't you?" I was shocked, but that was something I never denied.
"How did you know?" I asked. Mark didn't answer me immediately. He reached across the console and laid his hand very high up my thigh. He was millimeters from my cock.
"I have perfect gaydar," he said. "It never fails me."
"You're gay?" I asked incredulously.
"Yes, and I was hoping that when we get to your apartment, we could play a little. Obviously, I can't stay very long, but I'll find a way for us to have a more extended session another time."
I couldn't wrap my head around what was happening to me. A few hours earlier, I'd walked into the church social hall. I spotted Mark, and fell instantly in love with him. I thought I was fighting windmills - a la Man of La Mancha - if I evah believed I could have him. WOW!!! My fantasy was ahh-bout to cummme true.
As soon as we entered my apartment, Mark wrapped his arms around me and started to kiss me passionately. I was truly overwhelmed. I returned his kisses, and our tongues began to copulate. Suddenly, Mark pulled away from me and started to rip his clothes off like a mad-man. I did the same -- b'lieve me. He examined my hard, seven inch uncut cock, and murmured, "Nice." He was uncut also, and we were about the same size in length and girth.
I pulled him onto my Murphy bed, and laid him on his back. With no furthuh preliminaries, I fell on top of him, and leaned right down on his throbbing ding-a-ling. Umm, Umm, yum! I took his cock into my mouth, and started to suck it like it was an all-day sucker. I was heady with joy. I hardly noticed when he gushed into my gullet. I swallowed everything, and didn't release him until he softened.
He immediately returned the favor. As soon as I came, he jumped up and started dressing. "I promise," he whispered in my ear, "next time we'll go at it longer."
Grace picked me up promptly at 1 PM the next Saturday. When we arrived at the rink I had every intention of paying the entrance fee for her, but Grace stopped me. "Oh, no," she said, "Daddy gave me money for both of us." Thank God, I'd brought my figure skates with me when I moved to Michigan.
We skated continuously for the entire public session. Sometimes we skated alone, sometimes holding each other's hands, and once we actually danced across the ice. We only took one break when I bought us both hot chocolates at the concert shell at the skating pavilion. I was enjoying myself immensely, but all I could think of was Mark driving me home after dinner that evening, and the time we would spend together.
In the car driving back to her home, Grace and I agreed that we would skate every Saturday for fun, but that we were both too busy to devote the time we would need for competitive skating.
That night at dinner, Mark dropped a bombshell. He directed his attention to me, and said, "I have to stay late after church tomorrow. I'm working on plans for a church social and fund raiser. Do you think you could stay and help me, Sandy?"
"Of course, I will," I beamed at him. "Y'all've been so kind to me, and you, sir, have treated me just like a son." Mark, Jr. glared at me.
Just like the previous Sunday after lunch, Mark did not linger long after tonight's dinner either, but drove me right home. Again we brought each other to glory with fellatio, and I was disappointed. Mark was running off again. He had no idea how much I loved him.
"Do you think one day you would like to fuck me?" I asked.
"Of course, I'd like that a lot, Son," he said. "How about in the church after services tomorrow? Everyone will have gone home for Sunday lunch? We'll be alone."
"I'd be frightened about doing it in church, where somebody could walk in on us," I said. "Isn't there someplace else we can go, like a hotel?"
`I have just the place," he said. "It's a cruising park, with plenty of shrubbery and privacy."
"Why can't we just come here?" I asked.
"I'm sure some of your neighbors go to our church, and they might see us. I can explain just dropping you off, but not spending a whole afternoon with you."
"What about your fund raising project?"
"There isn't any, but I suppose I'll have to create it."
The next day the Whalen family came to church in two cars, so that Marilynn could drive the kids home, and Mark and I would have a car after working on our `project.' This prompted Mark to say when we were alone, "I think I'll buy you a car, so that when opportunities arise, we can meet each other somewhere."
That's way too generous," I said. "I couldn't let you."
"If it'll make you feel better, we'll get you a used car, and I'll put down a hefty down payment. We'll finance the rest with easy monthly payments that you can afford without difficulty. I'll countersign the loan. How does that sound?"
"Better," I mumbled.
"Good," Mark said. "Let's go to the park now, and then we'll figure out when we can get together and buy that car."
Mark drove us into an area that was so isolated, and so surrounded with shrubbery, that I prayed we could maneuver the car out of there. It was too cold to make love on the grass, so we did it on the back seat. We had more time now, and Mark came prepared with lubricant. We actually fucked. It was long before AIDS and nobody used condoms then. I can't tell you how Mark felt about us fucking, but my obsession was deepening along with my love.
Mark met me after work on Wednesday, and we went to a local Dodge dealership. Dodge was Mark's favorite auto. He was some sort of executive with Chrysler Corporation. We bought a two year old used car, and Mark got me an employee's discount. He paid for half of it, and I financed the rest. Mark guaranteed the loan.
Now that I had transportation, I began to pick up Grace to go ice skating. After the session, we would go for dinner at the Whalen's house, and I would drive myself home. Mark didn't like it, but I convinced him that that would raise less suspicion with his family. To make up for it, every once in a while he would call me at work, and when I left the hospital, I would drive to our secluded place in the park. We made love, and then Mark rushed off to get home for dinner. I began to grow angry at his clock watching, and envious of his family.
One awful day we were in the park, and I was giving Mark a blow job. Suddenly there was a tapping on both front windows. There was a policeman standing on each side of the car. We got ourselves together, and one of the policemen asked me if I had been forced to go down on Mark. I denied coercion and said that I loved him. They gave us a strict warning, and told us to go elsewhere. Mark reluctantly agreed to rendezvous in my apartment. It was too close a call for him, and we might not be so lucky next time.
We went on this way for several months, but I grew dissatisfied with such infrequent sex. I started to hang out at gay gathering places -- The Woodward Cocktail Lounge on Woodward Avenue, and The Diplomat for drinks, dancing under black-light, a drag show, and pick-ups - and that's where I met George. We were very attracted to each other and we made love on that same night. There were no time restrictions, and we coupled slowly and sensuously. Even though sex with George was infinitely better and more satisfying than with Mark, I was so obsessively in love with Mark, that I didn't see the difference. If Mark called to ask me to meet him someplace, I made excuses to George why we couldn't get together that evening.
George was a few years older than I was at the time. He informed me that there was a small hotel for sale in Palm Springs, California. He had saved enough for a down payment, and he had been promised financing for the remainder. He begged me to go to California with him, but I couldn't bear the thought of leaving Mark. He could never be mine, but I needed to be near him.
Finally fate stepped in. One Thursday morning Mark called me at work. He informed me that his wife and the kids were going to the Adirondacks in upstate New York for the weekend to visit his in-laws and get in some skiing. They were leaving on a 5 PM train. He begged me to come over after work and spend the weekend with him, at least until it was time to go to church on Sunday morning. After church we could go our separate ways. I was thrilled.
I rushed over Friday evening. Mark's cook had prepared a lovely dinner, and he'd given her the weekend off since his family would be away. He told her that he would eat at his club. We didn't rush dinner, but as soon as we put all the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, we bounded upstairs and into the shower. We soaped each other all over, and worked ourselves into a frenzy. At last we had plenty of time, and we made love like George and I did, that is to say, slowly. We gave each other as much pleasure as possible. We sucked and fucked until my ass was so sore I was afraid to take a crap. We finally got out of bed early Saturday afternoon to make a bite to eat.
We went downstairs naked and found Marilynn sitting in the living room with her back to the stairs. She stood up, turned around, and glanced at us once, and then told me to get out of the house and never come back. It seems that she forgot about an important meeting she just HAD to attend at the church that evening, so she got off the train in Cleveland and returned to Wyandotte. The kids continued their clickety-clack journey to their grandparents at the Lake. Mark and I hadn't closed any doors, and when she came in the house, she heard noises and went to investigate. She caught us in the act.
I guess she sat up for the rest of the night and didn't get any sleep.
I jumped into my clothes, and ran out of the house. I tried to call Mark several times at work, but he wouldn't take my calls. I never went back to the church or took Grace ice skating again. I reluctantly saw more and more of George. I cared for him, and we made love, but I was still in love with Mark. Every time I made love to George I fantasized I was with Mark. I just hope I never called George by Mark's name. Oy vey, such a meshugana I woulda been. I tried to erase my obsession, but it wouldn't go away.
Finally after several weeks had passed, it was getting closer and closer to George's move to California. I had lost Mark, and I couldn't bear to lose George also. He kept badgering me to go with him, and I finally agreed. On the night before our departure, George slept at my place. He had a big sedan, and we overloaded it with his stuff and mine. After the car was packed full, I drove my car to the Dodge dealership and George followed me. I left my car at the front door. The key was in the ignition, and on the driver's seat I left a note stating that Mark Whalen would make the remaining loan payments. George and I started our trek to Palm Springs about 5 AM the next morning.
George and I have been in a loving, monogamous relationship from that day to this. Nevertheless, not a day goes by that I don't think about Mark. Intellectually, I know how stupid my obsession was and still is, but I can't shake it. Every day I'm tempted to do a Google search for him. I'm nearly eighty now, so Mark would be a hundred and six. It's reasonable to assume that he has passed, but in my eye he will always be a gorgeous forty-eight year old gay father-like lover that I had for just over a single year.
Like I'd told him during one of our last rendezvous, "Mark, when you leave here, you go home to your family - your wife ... your son ... your daughter. But when you leave me, I have no one - except maybe-a new trick."