The following narrative involves sexually-explicit erotic events between men. If you shouldn't be reading this, don't.
This is a work of fiction. No similarity between the characters here and any real person is intended or should be inferred. Lake Polk is a fictional town, though I fear it is like all too many real communities.
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 Ash, Evan, Mickey, Patrick and Tom.
Timmead88@Yahoo.com Chapter 10
As he was coming back into the house after his trip to Waltersburg, something kept nagging at Doug. Canon Smathers had reminded him of someone, but he couldn't think who. So he began to work on his plan to move the disagreement "to the next level." Sure enough, as he was thinking about options, it popped into his head: Uriah Heep! Dickens' tall, redheaded sycophant squirmed with obsequiousness so long as he was an underling. When he got some power, he became arrogant. Yeah, that was Smathers, all right. But Doug was damned if he was going to play David Copperfield for the bishop.
He continued to think about his plan, even to draft something in his mind.
When he got home, he found Stan's sexy red car in his driveway. Stan had had a key to Doug's house from the time they became lovers.
Stan was at the door to give him a hug and a kiss and to grind his cock into Doug's.
"Oh, God," Doug said when they came up for air, "I really needed that, Stanley. But why aren't you at work?"
"Hell, Dougie, they're going to fire me anyway, most likely. I just left early so I'd be here when you got home. Now, let me get you a drink. Then you can tell me how it went."
"I think a hefty bourbon on the rocks, please, babe."
Stan smiled at him and said, "That bad, huh?" He got out rocks glasses and made them each a drink. He handed one to Doug, and the two sat together on the sofa. Stan raised his glass to Doug and said, "Bad cess to the Bish!"
Doug chuckled, touched his glass to Stan's, and said, "I can drink to that!"
Then Doug gave Stan a detailed account of what had happened.
Stan looked at his friend and said, "But you aren't going to let things rest there, are you? I can tell by the look in your eye that you're up to something. Something delicious, I'd wager." He leaned forward and pulled Doug toward him for another long kiss.
When they had finished that kiss, each took a sip of his Marker's Mark. "So, Douglas, are you gonna tell me, or do I have to get physical?"
Doug laughed. "I know what you are trying to do, stud, and I love you for it. You are trying to get me to calm down. And it's working. So, here's what I've got in mind."
Stan gazed so steadily at Doug that it made his lover squirm.
"Well, it's not much, but it's a statement I think I have to make. What I'd LIKE to do is organize a demonstration in front of the cathedral. You know, print up leaflets about Wenn's opposition to the New Westminster Decision and Claiming the Blessing, and adding what he's just done to me. And have a bunch of people there, some with placards, and some handing out the leaflets. Since I'll be alone, however, I think it will just be the leaflets. I can't very well wave a sign and distribute flyers too."
"Douglas Curtis, do you think I'd let you do that alone?" He put his hand on Doug's knee and squeezed as he looked at his friend, intense blue eyes blazing.
Doug put his hand on Stan's. "Yeah, well, I appreciate the loyalty, babe. But you can't be there with me so long as you are still city manager of Lake Polk. And we don't know another gay person in the area, you know. So, yes, it looks as if I'll be alone."
Obviously beginning to get into the spirit of things, Stan said, "Oh, I don't think so. I've got a plan."
"What's that?"
"First you have to pick a date. When do you want to do this? Some time next week? How about Tuesday? That would be December 10. Do you think you can get them drafted and printed by then?"
"Well, yeah, but what are you thinking?"
"I'm pretty sure I know where I can get us at least four helpers for your demonstration. Maybe more."
"Where, Stan?"
"Patience, babe. Just let me look into it, OK? I'll let you know as soon as I have anything definite to tell you. Now, I want dinner. Let's go to the Outback. I crave red meat tonight!"
"I"ll give you red meat," Doug chuckled. "Just let me pee, and we'll go."
As always, they had to wait about 45 minutes for a table, but since many of the "snowbirds" had arrived after Thanksgiving, that would have been true of most restaurants.
They had New York strips, baked potatoes, salads, and merlot. They talked about superficial things, for the most part. Then Doug said, "I still don't know where you think you're going to get anyone who would be willing to help. I think it's just going to be yours truly there, babe."
"What about Blair? Didn't you say he had encouraged you to stand up to the bish?"
"Well, yeah, he did. But, you know, he's not only Catholic but something of a neophyte, so I can't imagine him doing anything that public, even if it's directed at one of our bishops instead of his."
"Well, he deserves at least to know what you have planned. Then he can decide whether to volunteer or not."
"Yeah, well, I suppose I should tell him. But think how he'd feel if he and I were the only two people there. That's a lot to expect of a kid."
"Sweetie, I can't promise anything, but I am practically positive you and Blair won't be alone."
"I wish you wouldn't be so damned mysterious."
"Trust me. Now, do you want any dessert?"
"I'd like a big helping of you!"
"Comin' right up. Let's get out of here!"
In the car Stan asked, "My place or yours?"
"You've got to drop me off home sooner or later. Why not go there first? Can you spend the night?"
"Probably shouldn't, babe. I've got a big day at work tomorrow. I am expecting to hear from the city commission about all of this, and I want to do some reading in preparation for that confrontation. I could stay around long enough for a nice, long fuck, though."
"Well, I'll miss the snuggle afterward, but these are difficult times," Doug said smiling, "so I'll take what I can get. Mostly, I want Sluggo." He glanced at Stan's lap. "And it looks as if Sluggo wants me."
"Sluggo is never happy unless you're around, studly."
When they got to Doug's house, they were like a couple of kids trying to get into the bedroom and get their clothes off.
About midnight, Stan slapped Doug's rump and said, "Sorry, lover. Like I said, I have to go. You deal with the leaflets tomorrow. I'll be here for lunch. You want me to bring something?"
"No, you just come on. I'll fix us something. I've already got some ideas about the flyers. How many should I have printed?"
"Why think small? Have them do 1000."
Doug grinned and said, "I think you are gradually converting me to your approach to life, Stanley. I like the idea!"
Stan put his clothes on and left, after getting another kiss and playing with Doug's nipples for a while.
It was 8:30 the next morning. The phone rang in Mark and Lori's apartment.
"'Lo?"
"Mark! Did I wake you?"
"Oh, hi Pops. Yeah, you did, but that's all right. Lori's up and gone to her 8:00 class. I didn't have anything for a while, so I stayed in bed. Must have gone back to sleep after she left. So, how are you? How's Doug? How are you two holding up after all the crap that's happened to you?"
"Whoa, Mark. One question at a time, guy. Do you want to get a shower, have some breakfast, and then call me back?"
"If what you're calling about will keep, yeah, I'd like to do that."
"Ok, babe. I'm on my way to the office. You have the number there, don't you?"
"Yeah, Pops, I've got it. Call you back in half an hour. I love you."
"Love you, too, guy. Talk to you later."
When Stan got to his office, he told Karen, his secretary, to put Mark through when he called. She looked at him with a thoughtful expression on her face and said, "Of course, Mr. Mason."
The call came soon after that. After some preliminary discussion of what was happening on campus and with Mark's group of friends and what had recently transpired in Lake Polk, Stan explained about Doug's less-than-satisfactory meeting with the canon and what Doug wanted to do about it.
"You mean he's gonna go do that alone?" Mark almost shouted. "And you can't be there with him?"
"Mark, babe, I'll be there if I possibly can. But if I am, it probably means I won't be city manager here any more."
"But Pops, you can't just let him do that alone."
"You're right, son, and that's why I'm calling. I thought maybe you and the `Brotherhood' might be able to help out. Feel like a quick trip to sunny Florida?"
"Hey, I think I see what you've got in mind, but wanna explain anyway?"
"Yeah, here's what I was thinking . . . ." Stan explained his plan.
"Pops, you can count on me. I won't bring Lori, because it could be dangerous, or at least very unpleasant, right?"
"Yeah. Good thinking, Mark."
"But listen, I'll bet the others will want to come, too. I'll check with them all as soon as I can and get back to you."
"Great! Now, once you know if any of the others are coming, you get the airline tickets. Continental has several direct flights every day from Hopkins to Waltersburg. Come as early as you can on Monday, so we can visit. You are all welcome to stay as long as you want, but I know you won't be able to stay long with the holidays coming up. But if we do the demonstration on Tuesday, you guys could all go to Disney on Wednesday and fly back Thursday morning. If that isn't possible because of your obligations, you can go back on Wednesday. And, Markie, put the cost of all the airline tickets on your American Express card and just send me the bill. I'll take care of housing once I know how many of you there'll be."
"Dad," Mark said, "this sounds so cool. Let's shake up that bishop. Oh, and Disney wouldn't be bad, either!"
Stan chuckled. "OK, young stud. Let me know when you have talked to the guys."
"Yeah, Pops. I'll do that. Give Doug my best. I'm really sorry I'll be meeting him under these circumstances."
"You're gonna love him, Mark. I'll be sure to tell him. He will be so surprised, I think, by what we're cooking up. By the way, if you call tonight and I'm not home, call me at Doug's. You have the number there, right?"
"Right. Will do. Talk to ya tonight. Love you!"
STAN:
Later that morning I got a phone call from Florence Broadhurst, the mayor. (In Lake Polk, the city commission has five members. One is elected the mayor. It's a largely honorary post involving some speechmaking at civic events and presiding over commission meetings.)
"Good morning, Florence, how are you?"
"I am quite well, Mr. Mason."
Woops.
"How can I help you, Madame Mayor?"
She chuckled. "OK, Stanley, you win. I'm calling to let you know that there's a move afoot to ask you to resign. I thought you should have some warning. There will be a closed meeting of the commission tomorrow at 3:00, and you are `requested' to be there."
"Sounds ominous. 3:00 you say? I'll be there, of course. And, Florence, thanks for the warning. You could have just sent me a letter."
"That would have been proper, Stanley, but very cold. The meeting will probably be cold enough. See you tomorrow afternoon."
"Yes, I'll be there."
At lunch, I asked Doug how he was doing with the flyers. He said he had drafted what he wanted, added appropriate graphics, printed a copy, and taken it into Cypress Haven to Kinko's for copies. He was having them done on various colors of paper. They would be ready the next day. Then he asked about my morning, and I told him about Florence's phone call, but not about my conversation with Mark.
"That sucks. We knew it was likely to happen, but I was hoping against hope it wouldn't. And you can't imagine how guilty I feel that I've brought all this on you, sweetheart."
"Here, now, Douglas, none of that! We are in this together. And I AM gay, remember. You didn't do that. So if this fuckin' town can't deal with that, piss on `em!"
He chuckled. "I love it when you get vulgar."
I grinned at him. "Let's have dinner at my place. I thought I'd fix the chicken parmesan."
"Yum. I'll be there with your pipe and slippers when you get home."
I slapped him on the ass and said, "Just be there, babe. What are you going to do this afternoon?"
"Well, you suggested I talk to Blair. I'm not going to ASK him to participate, but I think he deserves to know what's up. And I thought I'd let Hallie, Bruce, and Father Dave know, too. So Bruce can fire me, Dave can excommunicate me, and Hallie can have my balls."
I howled. "I'm glad you are in such a good mood. Good luck with your phone calls. And save your balls, at all cost."
We had a kiss, and I went back to work.
DOUG:
I don't know why, but my depression had left me. I think I must have realized that, whatever the outcome of all this, I still had Stan. And what else did I need, really? I was excited about the fact that I was going, in my own small way, to make a statement. I was still curious why Stan thought I'd need a thousand flyers, and about his comment that I wouldn't be out there in front of the cathedral alone. But I was exhilarated as I made my phone calls.
Blair seemed worried about what I was going to do. He asked if there was any chance that I could be excommunicated. When I assured him that I thought that highly unlikely, he said he admired me for taking a stand and wanted to know if Stan would be there with me. I told him that would depend on whether Stan still had his job. As city manager, he couldn't properly be there.
"That sucks, Doug. I think he should be there for you, job or no."
"Well, Blair, I appreciate your feeling that way. But Stan has to observe all the legal niceties, especially if he decides to fight any decision to fire him in court. He says his contract is iron-clad, but, as I said, he has to do the correct things."
"Doug, it worries me that you'll be there alone. Is there any chance you could be arrested?"
"No. I'm not going to be doing anything violent or illegal. Stan says he will arrange for a permit for me to hand out the flyers if that's required."
"Like I said, man. You got guts. I'll be worried about you. I'll pray for you, if you don't mind."
"Thanks, Blair. I'll take all the prayers I can get."
Bruce was immediately sympathetic to what I proposed doing.
"Damn, Doug, I'd like to be there with you. I'm glad you aren't taking losing your license lying down. If it weren't for my position here, I'd go along and wave a banner or something. But you know I just can't, don't you?"
"Yeah, Bruce, I do understand. And if there's any publicity about what I'm doing, I will understand if you want me to sever my relationship with the Gardens. Or maybe you could just let me be a voluntary weeder or something."
He laughed at that, said something encouraging, and we hung up.
Father Dave counseled patience.
"Doug, I understand that you are angry about the Bishop's revoking your license. But do you want to act out of anger? Are you sure you have thought all this through?"
"Yes, Dave, I have thought about it a lot. I am going to do this, even if it means standing there all day and being made fun of by passers by."
"And you will be alone?"
"So far as I know."
"Had you thought about what any publicity might do to your life here in Lake Polk?"
"Well, hell, Dave, it couldn't get much worse. I understand the city commission is going to meet tomorrow to discuss whether to keep Stan in his job. I don't have any idea how much longer he and I will be living here. And you know about the problems we've had already, with the vandalism to his car and my house. What more can they do to us?"
"I see what you mean, Doug. And I think it is outrageous that the commission would ask Stan to resign. There is no justification for that. From all I've heard, he's been the best city manager we've ever had, at least in the memories of some of our old-timers."
"I think Stan and I are ready to deal with whatever happens in the next few days or weeks."
"Doug, let me suggest something."
"OK."
"Reconsider what you are planning for next Tuesday. Bishop Wenn is going to retire soon. In fact, he's said publicly that he'll do it after the General Convention next summer if things don't go the way he wants. I know this is an extremely conservative diocese, but chances are his successor will be somewhat less that way then he is. If you would wait and not antagonize the staffers at diocesan headquarters, perhaps I could get the new bishop to reinstate your license."
"Thanks, Father. But I think it's time to air out that cupboard in Waltersburg. People need to know what this bishop is really like."
Father Dave chuckled. "OK, Doug. I've done my best. Don't tell anyone, but I admire you for doing what you are doing. I've made the spiel I thought I had to make. Good luck, my friend. God be with you."
"Dave, thanks. I appreciate that. And I'll tell Stan what you said, too."
"Dougie," Hallie exclaimed, "I admire your courage. I haven't been in a demonstration since I was in college and we demonstrated against that terrible war in Viet Nam. A part of me says I'd love to be with you when you do it. I love a good fight!"
I was surprised, but then Hallie often caught me off balance. "So, you wanna join me in Waltersburg next week?"
She laughed. "I'd love to. You know I'm still angry with you for not telling me you are gay. But what Bishop Wenn has done is unconscionable. He had no reason to do that except for his own bigotry. But --"
"Yeah, Hallie, I know. I wasn't serious. I know you can't do that."
"I really can't, you know. I'm on the vestry at St. John's. I'm on the board at the Gardens and at the Lake Polk Care Center. I have to behave myself. You know, act the proper society matron, or whatever in hell I'm supposed to be."
"Yes, dear, I understand. Really I do."
"But, Doug, there's something you may not have considered."
"What's that?"
"You and Stan aren't yet the pariahs you think you are. I've sensed that many of your friends are indignant at what's happened to you and Stan since you were outed. Some of our redneck fellow citizens may continued to give you dirty looks or even throw beer bottles in your yard, but I think the people who know you and like you are going to come around. BUT. And this is big. If you get any kind of notoriety at the cathedral next week, you may in fact become social pariahs. Lake Polk is a tight little town. I think our group would more likely accept your, ah, alternate lifestyle, than it would your doing something in such `questionable taste' as demonstrating in front of a church, much less the cathedral."
I had to think about that for a while. "And how do you feel about that, Hallie?"
She paused. Then she laughed. "Darlin', you know I love you. You do whatever your conscience tells you to. I'll be there in spirit with you next week. And when it's all over, whatever happens, I want you and Stanley to come to dinner, just the three of us, and you can tell me all about it."
I laughed and said, "Hallie, you're quite a gal. I love you. And it's a deal. If I'm not in jail, I'll give you a call next week."
"Good luck, Doug!"
STAN:
Doug was indeed there when I got home. He had the table set, had cut up some crudités and set out a bowl of dip.
After our kiss, he asked me what I wanted to drink.
"Man, you've certainly made yourself at home. I love that."
He grinned. "Yeah, su casa mi casa, I guess."
We opened a bottle of Kendall Jackson chard and sipped on it while we fixed dinner together. By tacit agreement we didn't talk about our afternoons.
Doug broke the ends off the asparagus and put the spears in a dish to microwave. Then he melted butter with a little white balsamic vinegar to pour over it.
I dredged the chicken breast pieces in melted butter and then rolled them in grated parmesan (reggiano, of course, not that stuff in the green can) and Pepperidge Farm stuffing mix. Then I put them on a cookie sheet, ready to bake.
I prepared a pilaf with basmati rice, and we were able to sit for a few minutes, enjoying the veggies and dip and the chardonnay.
As we munched and sipped, he told me about the conversations he had that afternoon with Blair, Bruce, Father Dave, and Hallie.
"You know, sweetheart," I said, "none of that surprises me much except Hallie. There's a lot more to her than meets the eye."
"Yeah, babe. I know what you mean. What meets the eye ain't bad, but she has a remarkable mind. And, in her way, she is integrity personified. If I weren't so much in love with you, I might ask her to marry me."
I laughed. "Yeah, right, and could you get it up for her?"
"Probably not. At least not unless she helped me a lot. But, who knows, she might just be the one who could make me think I'm bi, not gay."
"Enough of that, Curtis! Do I have to worry about her now?"
He put his wine glass down and came over and sat beside me.
"Stan, I know you were joking just now. But I want to say this anyway. You don't ever have to worry about anybody tempting me away from you. I'm yours. You're mine. Period. OK?" Then he tongue-fucked my mouth more vigorously than ever before.
A timer in the kitchen chimed. I knew it was time to put the asparagus in the microwave so it would be ready when the rice and the chicken were done.
As we were having coffee after dinner, Doug said, "You know, babe, we make a good team. It doesn't seem to matter which kitchen we're in, we work well together. Want to open a restaurant?"
I laughed. "Not really. But soon I hope we'll have OUR kitchen to work in. Whatever happens in the short run, we need to get rid of two places and have only one, don't you think?"
He put his hand behind my head and rubbed the back of my neck. "Absolutely, baby. I don't care where it is. Wherever you are is home for me."
Wow! That brought tears to my eyes. I was struck by the truth of that. Doug and I could be anywhere, and if he was there, it would be home!
"Oh, God, Dougie. That is a fundamental truth for us, isn't it?"
He smiled and nodded.
"So, babe, you sure you still want to do that business at the cathedral next week? Why don't I just let the commission cancel my contract, and we'll take a `round the world cruise or something?"
He looked me straight in the eye, and I melted at the sight of those gorgeous brown eyes.
"You've made that offer before, sweetheart. And you can't know how much it means to me that you'd do that. But I think I have to take a stand here. I fully understand what your problem would be if you are still city manager. But --"
The phone rang.
I squeezed his hand (which had been in my crotch). "That's probably Mark."
I was right.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Pops."
"You have news for me, Mark?"
"Yeah."
I could hear the excitement in his voice.
"There will be eight of us. In addition to the four of us and Tim, Father Max is coming, and so are Philip Halifax, president of the campus Gay/Straight Alliance and Steve Metz. And all of us can stay over for the day at Disney, if that's still OK."
"You know it, baby boy. I'll make reservations at the local Hampton for all of you. What shall we do about you? I take it Lori isn't coming."
"That's right, Pops, she isn't. But Steve's coming, and he's straight. If the room has two beds, he and I could share a room."
"Well, babe, my guest room has twin beds. You and Steve want to stay here?"
"Yeah, that would be great. It would give me a chance to be with you a little more, and I think you'll like Steve. He's cool."
"Steve? Isn't he the guy that was attacked a while back?"
"Yeah. He's the only other straight guy that is good friends with Tim and the gang."
"Great. I'll get rooms at the Hampton for the others. It's not far from here. And you and Steve can stay at my place."
"Pops, I'm furious about what's happened to you and Doug. But I'm really looking forward to seeing you and meeting Doug. He must be a special guy."
I choked up a little. "Oh, Markie he is. Your old man is very happy, despite all the bad things that have happened to Doug and me."
Mark was silent for a minute. Then I heard him swallow.
"I love you, Pops. I'll let you know when our flight arrives in Waltersburg on Monday."
"Look, I've already sent you directions how to get to Lake Polk from Waltersburg International. Why don't you just get a couple of rental cars and come to Doug's house? He's got more room. I'll email you directions how to get there. Doug and I will take care of supper, and you can check into the motel later."
"Sounds like a plan, Pops! Love ya. Oh, and if you'll get the stuff, we'll make some placards after we get there."
"Gotcha, babe. Love you. Can't wait to see you."
"Yeah, me, too, Pops. Bye."
I hung up the phone and returned to Doug on the sofa.
"Mark is coming? And some others as well?"
"Yeah, sweetheart, eight of them are coming and will be with you at the Cathedral."
Tears began streaming down his face. "I can't believe this. Those kids would come all the way down here to be with me for this?"
"Those kids and Tim Mead, yeah."
Still with tears flowing, he asked, "But why?"
I knew what he meant.
"Because they believe the bishop was wrong, that he did something unpardonable, babe. These are smart, sensitive, caring guys. They want to support you."
"Well," he said, "I think it's more because they love you. And didn't I hear something about Disney just now?"
I smiled back. "Oh, I don't think a trip to Disney by itself could have made a bunch of responsible guys leave campus at this point in the semester and come to Florida. But the chance to be of help to us and do Disney, too, was apparently too much to turn down. Especially since it's a free ride for all of them."
"I'll bet Tim will have some objections to your footing all the bills."
"Yes, knowing Tim, he probably will. And I don't want to browbeat him with my money. That will take some tact, I imagine."
He leaned in for a kiss. When we pulled apart, he said, "You are a remarkable person, Stan Mason."
"A very lucky, guy, sweetheart. You know, Trey's got more money than I'll ever have. But it won't bother him if I pick up the tab for all of them to come down here. He'll just figure he would have done it if it had been his party."
"I guess I'll never understand that," Doug said.
We sat together on the sofa, arms around each other and watched something forgettable on the tv as we talked about the event planned for the coming Tuesday.
Finally, about 11:00, we went to bed. It had gotten to the point where it didn't matter whose house we were in. We were both perfectly comfortable either place.
Since we had been together, we had traded off being top and bottom fairly evenly. I think Doug has a slight preference for being a bottom, and that's fine with me. But either way was wonderful with this guy.
After brushing our teeth and taking care of the bathroom chores, we undressed each other slowly, each of us enjoying the gradual revelation of the other's body. He looked at me questioningly, and I knew what he was asking.
"Stud, tonight there's a new Doug. Stronger. More determined. Even sexier than before. I want you to do me to celebrate the new Doug. Would you do that?"
He looked embarrassed. "You set a pretty good example, you know, Stan. I'd be honored to take you tonight."
We turned back the covers and fell into the bed. There was a lot of kissing, nip sucking, and licking as we enjoyed each other's bodies.
"Oh, God, I've needed you so long!"
"No more than I've needed you, lover."
Eventually, I handed him the lube. He smiled at me, took the lube and began to get me ready. He worked slowly, deliberately, continuing to smile at me all the while. By the time he had his third finger in me, I was hunching my ass up, trying to fuck myself on his fingers.
"Hey, hotstuff, I think you're ready to be Spiked."
At that moment, I giggled. I had just caught on to something. Call me slow, but, though I had known Doug called his cock "Spike," I hadn't previously made the ecclesiastical connection. [For those of you who don't know, in the Episcopal Church, a "spike" is a very high church Episcopalian, someone who is more Catholic than the Romans. -- Tim]
"And just what's funny, Stanley?" he asked, trying to look serious.
"I'll explain later, you naughty man you. Please, babe, just fuck me!"
"Indubitably. Inexorably. In fact, NOW."
And with that he pushed in. Nothing tentative about it. He just pushed in. My hungry ass, by now more than used to his beautiful tool, happily swallowed Spike.
He was, how shall I describe it? More in control, more forceful than he'd ever been before. Almost as if he were claiming me for the first time. It was as exciting as hell, and I was soon lost in the gorgeous sensations emanating from my packed chute and repeatedly stimulated prostate.
We're a little too old to be able to arrive at simultaneous orgasms, and I don't often even have one while he's fucking me without some kind of stimulation to my cock. But that night there was an additional electricity to our coupling, and I did come without either of us touching Sluggo. Tightening my sphincter produced the usual results by triggering his orgasm. He pumped more into me than he ever had before as I spewed a goodly amount (for an old guy) onto my chest and belly.
He collapsed on me as my body expelled the deflated Spike. I chuckled. "Spikey seems to have become rather low church, babe."
He laughed at that and then began to lick my cum off my body.
As we lay there in each others' arms, I said, "Wow, stud. That was different! Where did this new Douglas Curtis come from?"
He was quiet for a minute or so. "You know, Stan, I do feel different. I don't mean that I want to be the top all the time. It's not even just a matter of our love-making. You've done something to me."
I squeezed him against me. "Yeah, babe, and I'm going to keep doing it to you."
He laughed. "That's not what I meant, and you know it. It's just that I'm tired of being ashamed and embarrassed, tired of hiding. I am gay. I love you. I love our life together. If other people don't like that, then fuck `em!"
Holding him as I was, I couldn't very well applaud, but I felt like it. I pushed him away enough to look into his eyes. "There he is!"
"There who is?"
"There's the Doug I always knew was in there. I'm so proud of you, lover."
He kissed me on the tip of my nose and said, "This doesn't mean I'm going to have to be the top all the time, does it?"
"No way!" I laughed. Soon after that, we fell asleep, still in each others' arms.
DOUG:
The next morning we had a long, sexy, loving shower. After breakfast Stan went to work, and later I drove into Cypress Haven to Kinko's to pick up the flyers. I was pleased with the way they looked.
Stan came to my place for lunch. He had told me about the closed meeting of the city commission that afternoon, and as we ate, I told him I was nervous.
"Relax, hon," he said. "The worst that could happen is that they could ask me to resign and agree to waive the penalty for my breaking my contract."
"Stan, if they want you to resign, isn't there a penalty for them?"
"Of course."
"Well, then, you shouldn't let them get away with making you quit and then not paying the penalty."
"We'll see what transpires, babe. I can take care of myself. It might be worth it just to get out of this job."
I grinned. "Remember the old fractured Latin thing, `illigitimi non carborundum'?"
"Oh, yeah," he said, chuckling, "I haven't heard that in years."
He gave me a nice kiss, and set off to do battle with the commission.
I tried to write on my novel, but Stan was too much on my mind. And I couldn't help thinking about the thing we were planning for the next Tuesday. I couldn't believe that Mark and seven of his friends would come all the way to Florida from Ohio to help out Stan's friend. I know the four in the "Brotherhood" love Stan. He thinks of all of them as sons.
Tim apparently goes where Ced goes. I hoped that I'd get a chance to talk with him while he was here. Maybe he'd stay with Stan and me while the college guys went to Disney. We could take him to the Gardens, perhaps. I looked forward to talking with anybody who shared my interest in the Lost Generation.
Stan had also said that Steve Metz was coming. Steve is straight, as I recall. What a special guy he must be to get involved in all this. And Stan mentioned somebody named Philip something or other. I didn't know anything about him. Wondered why he was coming along.
The afternoon dragged by. I really wished I could be at the meeting with Stan. But, unlike most of the commission's meetings, this one was closed to the public. Cowards! If they had anything to say to Stan, they should have been willing to say it in public.
I decided to have a special meal ready for him when he got home. I put a bottle of champagne in the fridge to chill. Then I went to Albertson's.
When he got home, I gave him a long kiss and sent him to change into a tee and some shorts. When he got back to the family room I handed him a glass of Brut Imperiale, pushed him down on the sofa, and gave him a water cracker with caviar on it.
He looked tired, but the twinkle was still there. "You're incredible, Doug. You really know how to pamper me. But what are we celebrating, babe?"
"Well, I haven't let you tell me about your afternoon yet, so why don't we just say we're celebrating not letting the bastards wear us down?"
He laughed and held up his glass. "Illigitimi non carborundum!" we said together.
I had learned that Stan loved creamed potatoes, so I had peeled and cut up a bunch and put them on to cook. We'd have a salad, and I'd found some really thick loin lamb chops at the market to broil.
"OK, babe," I said as I sat facing him. "Supper is under control. Now tell me about your meeting."
He took another sip of the champagne and set his glass on the chairside table.
"I'll spare you the gory details. But when the meeting was called to order by the mayor, Clint Henderson led the attack. He said that my conduct was an embarrassment to the city and that I should resign. Byers sat there nodding his head, agreeing with him. Spoleto surprised me by saying that he didn't see that I'd done anything the city could legally take issue with and that he thought my contract with the city was binding. Johnson and the mayor didn't say much at all. I refused to defend myself. I told them that I didn't think anyone could fault the way I was doing my job, and that my private life was no one's business. I just wouldn't be drawn into a discussion of my lifestyle."
He had another cracker with caviar and took another sip of the champagne. "Good stuff! Thanks, Dougie. This was a splendid idea!" He twinkled at me with those cobalt eyes and my cock began to ooze. I raised my glass to him but didn't say anything.
He took a deep breath. "So. After a lot of yakking, Henderson moved to terminate my contract on the ground of `misconduct.' If Florence knew anything about parliamentary procedure, she wouldn't have let any discussion take place until there was a motion on the floor, but I wasn't going to quibble about that. When they voted, it was Henderson and Byers for the motion, Spoleto and Johnson against. The mayor refused to break the tie. Henderson was furious, and I don't think Spoleto was too pleased, either. But apparently the commission by-laws give her that option."
I couldn't contain myself any longer. "So, dammit, Stanley. What happened?"
He gave me this shit-eating grin. "I said that since the motion had not passed, things could go on as they had been. But that I had a proposal for them. I said that, if they wouldn't invoke the penalty for breaking the contract, I'd submit my resignation, citing `personal reasons.'"
"Damn! I didn't want you to do that. You deserve better than that."
"Chill, sweetheart. This is not so bad. I think even Spoleto and Johnson were relieved. I don't know what Madame Mayor thought. But they jumped at my offer. I went back to my office, wrote up the letter, and hand-delivered it to the mayor's office."
"Effective when?"
"Effective as soon as they can find a replacement or December 31st, whichever comes first."
"God! Stan. That means we're free, doesn't it?" It took me a minute to process the implications of that. "It means we can do whatever we damn well want to!"
He came over and hugged me. "Yeah, babe, and ya know what else? As a lame duck, I don't care too much what those bastards think. It also means I'll be going to Waltersburg Tuesday with you, Tim, and the boys."
[I'm going to be away for a while. Look for chapter 11 of this story in about two weeks. --Tim]