Reunion at Forty-eight--section

Reunion at Forty-eight--Section 7 By Ezra Randle

Five Months Later

Dan scrolled through Ben's correspondence over the past five months, first to a note from late May.

Thanks for accommodating my crazy schedule. Hope you don't get in trouble for being gone in the morning on a work day. I enjoyed the massage and conversation as usual. Am developing a siege mentality, hunkering down for the worst of it. When I talked to Ellie's doc privately yesterday he told me to not expect more than a year. Probably less. It's one thing to know in your heart, but to hear it pronounced like that. Shit. It's nothing to do with you. Last week was like a port in the storm.

Then more recently, to a note just before their last meeting in early August.

Maybe next week. Hospice is coming in Thursday--the kiss of death. I remember it so well from my mother's passing. They like it when the family caretakers take some free time while they're in the house. I can't feel guilty even when the walls are manned by the last of the troops. I'm just hanging on.

When they met that afternoon, they did not remove their clothes. Ben flipped off his shoes and stretched out on the bed while he sat in the chair and listened to him talk for well over an hour before Ben abruptly got up to leave. They embraced but Dan remained behind, lying in the crease that Ben made in the bedspread. He tried to force his memory back to their meeting from the previous March, but few specifics of that rapturous night returned. He thought of Ben most days and sometimes talked to him on lonely walks. His own physical desire became muted as Ben's declined during Ellie's illness. His body seemed to know that craving was impermissible. Yet the love for this man had multiplied as he listened to him in the subsequent meetings. Sometimes, he let himself think of how they might resume their intimacy when...and now "the when" had occurred and he re-read Ben's latest note.

She's gone. I called most people I know, but you get a note. I guess that says something about how we operate. The wake's Thursday late afternoon at Barker Mortuary, funeral on Friday at St. Thomas. Hope to see you, but if you can't make it, I'll understand. Say a prayer for us.

Dan stood in queue as the line approached the family greeting line. He watched Ben's three daughters. From his conversations with Ben over the past months, he knew two of them were married, and the third, Annie, was engaged. He tried to pick her out and was convinced she was the one positioned just to Ben's right, the one around whose shoulders Ben frequently draped his arm. When it was his turn, they embraced and, without any planned thoughts of doing so, Dan whispered in his ear: "I love you." Ben nodded and thanked him for coming.

Dan sent Ben many emails after the funeral, always brief and respectful of the grieving that he couldn't possibly imagine going through himself. He surmised that Ben wouldn't want to resume their physical encounters at this point and hinted at that in his notes. Ben responded with just a few short notes, so six weeks after the funeral, Dan called him, but received only the neutral voice of the programmed recording. Alarmed, he repeated the calls daily until Ben finally picked up, his voice barely more animated than the robotical response of the woman in the recording. He assumed Ben had just awakened or was drinking or simply couldn't talk, so he ended the conversation expressing his concerns and affection and reiterating his openness to talk whenever Ben was ready. He considered driving to his house to see him face-to-face just to make sure he was OK. So, he was caught off guard by Ben's lengthy email a few days later.

Hey, Dan. Thanks for all your notes and calls. Sorry I didn't have much to say on the phone last week. As you probably figured out, I'm simply unable to discuss what's taken control of me. If I could talk about it, you'd be the one to hear it. By the way, my non-responsiveness with you is how I've been relating with most everyone over the past few months--even my kids. It's nothing personal--I've become an equal opportunity offender.

I lost the name of the therapist you told me about a while back. Please send his name my way again when you have a minute. Your phone call made me realize that I'd better start seeing a professional pretty soon. Don't be alarmed. I'm not planning on doing anything crazy. I just can't loosen the knots inside me. When I let myself get close to what's burrowed in my gut, it feels like everything's bound together as tightly as a nest congealed with glue. I know it's about grieving, but I don't want to let myself go near it. It's perverse. I've got to understand it, but, at the same time, I don't want to touch it--which I know I have to do to figure it out. This is not making sense, and that's probably why I can't talk to you or anyone else about it. I'm like a little kid swimming in water over my head for the first time, afraid to dive under, petrified I won't come back up if take the plunge. So I've conditioned myself over these weeks to tread water, like a machine. I'm stuck in the same place day after day and am getting exhausted in the process, wishing I could glide away doing the freestyle. It sounds pathetic when I read these words back to myself. I know I'm behaving foolishly--but maybe this explanation, as feeble as it is, helps you understand the disconnection between what I'm thinking and how I'm feeling, and, consequently, why I haven't been able to talk to you. I no longer resemble the person I've always been. And it's hard adjusting to living with a stranger--especially when he's moved into my own room.

I go to work most days, though sometimes I finish up at noon, and on other days I come in late and stay until evening. Last Saturday I ended up in my office all afternoon. Most of the time, I prefer being there alone. Not such a good attitude when you're second in command of Human Resources. I get most of my work done--it just takes me two or three times as long as it used to. It's not really a motivational thing, but I'm consistently distracted by all the little things that pull me away from what I'm supposed to be doing.

I had to give a presentation to my team last week and, in the middle of it, I looked around and saw people staring at me in an odd way. I realized I just repeated what I said a few minutes earlier. My kids tell me I've been doing that sort of thing lately. So, I stopped and kind of laughed and asked, "Will you guys be bored if you hear it a third time?" My pathetic excuse for a joke shattered the very uncomfortable spell for everyone. They roared back in laughter, much louder than they should have. When the presentation was over, a woman came up to me and told me she'd listen to it ten times if that would help me get back on track. I thanked her and went out for a walk and started to cry. Not because I embarrassed myself--unfortunately, I think I'm beyond feeling mortified by my absentmindedness--but because I'm not sure I want to get over it and get back on track. That would mean Ellie's gone and that's the problem. I don't want her to leave me. It's a cliché to say we don't know how much we miss the people we love until they're absent from our lives. But that's me, I guess. I've always been a sucker for sentiment--maybe that's why we connected so well when we were younger. You'd roll your eyes whenever I thought I was falling in love and began waxing about the alluring starlit nights. I've always appreciated your counterbalance--even when we were only seeing each other at reunions. But these days I'm living every cliché that's ever been invented about sadness and crying and having my heart broken. I'm like a twenty-four hour, commercial-free, country western station. Except I'm afraid to turn one of those stations on for real out of fear I'd really break down listening to those sad songs about love. I'd find myself sitting in my car at three in the morning singing along to one song after another.

Nobody else knows how numb I've become. For a while, people were calling me up. Neighbors, some of Ellie's relatives, a few guys at a place I used to work, and they always want to know the same thing: how am I doing, am I surviving? I know they want me to say that I'm just fine and am adjusting well, so that's what I've started telling them. That way I get them to stop calling. I like it when I come home and nobody calls. I don't even want to make the decision to listen to the voice mails on my phone. I should change my message to something like: "This is Ben. If you're calling to check in on me, no need to leave a message because I'm doing fine. Thanks for your concern."

If you felt like you got the same response when you called me last week, I apologize. I'd like you to be the one worrying about me. No secrets between us, right? I know you'll read this and appreciate my awkward attempt to express what's ensnared my heart and soul and body. And I know you won't show up at my house with a straight jacket. I trust you about that. Someday, I'll call you and we can talk in person. I'm just not ready yet.

Ben.

After the email in June, Dan let up on his concerns, convinced that Ben connected with Alex Crowe. Sometimes he reread that lengthy note and was impressed by Ben's confused but exceptionally perceptive analysis. Occasionally, the thoughts were prompted by his cravings for the physical intimacy they had shared, but most often the memories were detached from that, and he was convinced they had arisen solely out of the love he felt for his friend. His weekly emails dropped off to one or two sentences--none of which Ben responded to. And then for months, Ben dropped off the radar.

As a result, Dan began to look at dating websites for men. He'd done it before in the past, but now, with several rich experiences with Ben, he knew what he was looking for. And that he needed the touch of a good man again. Nothing much appealed to him until he began chatting with a man ten years older than he was. He was a Black man and a widower for the past two years, looking for his first sexual experience since his wife died. He'd had only a few man encounters when he was in college and none that was more than a quick blow job. After a month of chatting a few times a week, they fell into a pattern of finding each other at ten at night. Jenny was always asleep by then, but Dan usually stayed up until midnight. Leonard lived less than an hour away and wanted to meet Dan. They had coffee a week later and talked for an hour, then took a walk in the warm weather in a nearby park a week later. Initially, Dan had been attracted to Leonard because of his wide ranging interests in life, including his work at the university in psychology. Additionally, he was quick witted and lively in their chats. But after meeting with him twice, he began to envision them together in a room. Leonard reminded him of Ben in certain ways. His weight and height were about the same. He laughed irreverently like Ben, often using curse words in his descriptions of the world. Leonard seemed hesitant about going further after that first meeting, but in subsequent chats he adopted a different outlook. He asked Dan if he'd visit him at his home. Jenny was often gone on weekends, helping her sister care for their mother who was in the early stages of dementia. On one of those Saturdays, Dan met Leonard at his home, a simple ranch style home at the end of a semi-rural and infrequently used road outside of Madison.

Leonard welcomed him graciously and after chatting for twenty minutes, asked him if he was interested in more. "I guess the better question, Leonard, is if you are? Are you over your wife's passing enough to try it?"

Leonard smiled. "And are you over your old friend's disappearance from your life? You are grieving as well from that loss."

Dan had to agree, momentarily wishing Leonard were Dan and that they were about to undress and resume their love affair. Then he dismissed those thoughts as they stretched out on Leonard's bed and kissed. "You have just enough experience to know what to do next, Dan. Do you want to lead me?"

"Do you want me to?" Dan asked.

"Yes. I want to feel what you've described when you and your friend have made love."

Dan straddled Leonard's waist and unbuttoned his dress shirt and pulled it free from his jeans. He was wearing a blue t-shirt underneath tucked inside his belt. When Dan pulled it free and lifted it up to Leonard's chest, Dan could see that Leonard was ready. They smiled at each other as Leonard sat up and took off both of his shirts. Dan let his hands rub Leonard's hairy chest and flick his nipples. Leonard moaned. "We've talked about nipple play. I told you I've never done it in my life. I've tried to pleasure myself that way when I was masturbating, but I couldn't get aroused. But just that little bit of your fingers has changed all that."

Dan smiled and licked his nipples. "How's that?" he said.

"More please," Leonard said.

Dan eagerly sucked them and nibbled on them lightly. Then he licked Leonard from his chest, across his belly and up to his arm pits, all coated with curly black hair partly infused with grey. Leonard's eyes were closed and his body seemed to be yielding to all of Dan's attentions. They kissed deeply for several minutes. Dan asked, "Shall we go further?"

"This may seem weird to you, but I want you to take me. I want to give into your attentions," Leonard said.

"Stand up."

Leonard did as Dan requested, and Dan unbuckled Leonard's belt and slid it free from the jeans. Then he stood behind Leonard and ran the belt across Leonard's nipples and belly, over and over. Dan unfastened Leonard's jeans and pull them down. When Dan had asked Leonard what style underwear he wore, he'd said a variety of styles depending on his mood. But to Dan's surprise, he was wearing a crimson jock strap. Dan laughed. "Didn't expect this. Very nice."

Dan slipped his t-shirt over his head and quickly took off his khakis. Leonard touched his nearly naked torso tentatively. "You can use more force. I won't break," Dan said.

Leonard said, "I am very nervous even though you are being quite gentle with me. I've been wondering what you looked like naked all these weeks but now I'm overwhelmed."

Dan pulled him back to the bed and they kissed for fifteen minutes. Something caught fire within Leonard, and he became more aggressive with his hands and tongue while they kissed. "Wow, you're on fire," Dan said.

"Unexpectedly. Something took over."

"Sex after a long absence will do that."

"Yes. But it's more. When I put the jock on earlier, I got so aroused I thought I might cum before you arrived. I took a cold shower to cool down. I'm not kidding," Leonard said.

They both laughed and Dan slipped his hand to the pouch of the jock. "You fit nicely in there."

"I played a lot of sports in high school. Wore the old Bike jocks all the time. Must have had a dozen of them in my underwear drawer. I had one that was kind of ripped out that became my jack off jock. Sometimes I'd wear it to school. I'd get hard and have to go to the bathroom. Almost got caught one day and realized I needed to stop wearing it."

"Do you still have the jock?"

"Somewhere in an old bin of clothes. Doesn't fit like it used to. I was a thirty inch waist back then."

"You'll have to find it and show me sometime."

"Have you always been a briefs guy?" Leonard asked.

"As a kid. Then I switched to boxers in high school and college as that seemed the most common style. But I went back to briefs when I started thinking of naked men, about ten years into my marriage."

"Can I ask you something? Even though it might sound weird," Leonard said.

"Sure. Anything."

"I'm a little thicker than you are around the waist. But I still think my jocks will fit you. Would you wear one of mine?"

"Right now?"

"Yes. Go into the bathroom and change."

"Absolutely. I'd like to."

Leonard went over to his dresser and brought out a purple jock. "It's a size smaller than what I usually wear."

Dan smiled at himself in the mirror as he changed into the jock. It fit well over his semi-hard erection. When he came back out, Leonard was lying on his belly on the bed. "Looks good on you, Dan. Thanks for indulging my fantasy."

"What else is part of that fantasy?"

"A group of six or eight men, of all shapes, wearing jocks and roaming about my house wanting to have sex."

"Random guys?"

"No. Men I know who I'd like to see naked."

"Nice images."

"You have fantasies with groups like that?" Leonard asked.

"Sometimes. I like to imagine men walking around naked or nearly so."

Dan straddled Leonard, his jock pouch on top of Leonard's naked ass. "That's nice, Dan. Do you like my ass?"

It reminded Dan of Ben's fleshy buttocks and with a similar amount hair, though in Leonard's case, curly black. "Yes."

"I've told you in our chats that I think I'm a bottom. Just my hunch having never tried it," Leonard said.

"Do you play with your ass much?"

"I've been doing it over the past month. Ever since we shared naked pictures. I have a few toys."

Dan kissed Leonard's neck and shoulders and licked him down to the base of his spine. Like Ben, he had a nice tuft of hair there that ran into the cleft between his ass cheeks. As Dan followed the trail of that hair, Leonard moaned. "You don't have to do that. But I want you to."

An image of Ben flowed through Dan's mind, of them in this position, this time of Ben wearing a jock like this. That arousal took hold in Dan and he began licking Leonard's ass cheeks and quickly down into the crack. Leonard had a nice thicket of ass hair and Dan saturated the hairs as his tongue ran to the base of Leonard's balls and back. He rolled off of Leonard and they turned to each other kissing deeply. Both of them were bulging in their jock pouches. "Can I see you?" Leonard asked.

Dan rolled on his back and Leonard pulled the jock down just below his balls. "O, God, your pictures do not do you justice. You're longer than I am."

"Let's see."

Dan lowered the crimson jock enough to reveal Leonard's genitalia. His cock was rigid and leaking. "Hope you're not disappointed.

"Why would I be?"

"I'm smaller than average. I've always felt self-conscious about that."

"Not that much shorter than I am. And you're quite thick. That's nice compensation."

"I don't match up to the stereotype of the massively endowed Black man."

"Did you see your dad's much?"

"I was adopted at eight months and have never met my birth father. So, no. My adopted father's cock was impressive. I spent quite a bit of time with my adoptive mother's father growing up. Gramps was single for much of that time. He liked to parade about naked when he had the opportunity. So, there's that."

"Was he gay?"

"I think so. But he was never inappropriate with me. Unless seeing him naked quite often fits that category," Leonard said.

"You have two kids. Your cock did its work."

Leonard laughed. "Yes, though my wife never seemed satisfied with our sexual relations."

"Did she orgasm?"

"Certainly. I made sure of that, but when I entered her it always seemed a letdown. She played with toys quite often. Even when we had sex."

Throughout the conversation, they had been stroking each other. Leonard leaked precum as much as he did, and their cocks were quite wet. "Do you want me to jack you to completion?" Dan asked.

"Maybe that's the best for our first date," Leonard said.

"How about if I play with your ass some more."

Leonard smiled. "Mind reader."

"Do you have some lube?"

"In the drawer."

As Dan retrieved the bottle of lube, Leonard rolled onto all fours. Dan licked him again, provoking more moaning--from both of them. He swirled his middle finger around Leonard's anus, running along the taint as well. He entered Leonard with his finger well lubed and slid in quite easily. "You're quite ready for me, aren't you?"

"I've been wearing a plug all day."

His middle finger quickly filled Leonard and found his prostate. He rubbed it back and forth. "Jesus, I'm leaking like a sieve," Leonard said.

Dan ran his index finger alongside his middle finger up into Leonard. Leonard collapsed his arms but his fleshy ass still protruded into the air. Dan fingered him for fifteen minutes, alternating that pleasuring with his tongue. He felt the tip of Leonard's cock. It was so wet he thought Leonard might have already cum. "It wouldn't take much more, Dan. I've heard of men cumming like this without any hand or mouth action."

"Do you have any condoms?"

"In the drawer. I'm safe. If you are, come in bare."

Dan lubed his cock. The anticipation of being in a man was acute. Something he had been thinking more about over the past few months. His swollen glans was not so much broader than his two fingers had been. It slipped in easily and he paused. "How does it feel?"

"Not any thicker than your fingers. Please fill me."

The softness and tightness was exquisite on his cock. In many ways, completely different than fucking Jenny. He knew part of that was the newness of the sensations. He had thought of fucking with Ben quite often. They had been close to that when they fingered each other so deeply. He wanted Ben right now as he pushed his cock deep into Leonard. Leonard's hips found a rhythm with his thrusting. Dan paused so he wouldn't cum too quickly. As he rested, Leonard turned onto his side so that Dan was spooning him. He felt Leonard's leaking cock and rubbed some of the precum across Leonard's nipples. Leonard yelled out at the pleasurable sensation. "O, my, it's extraordinary. I never thought it could be like this."

"Should I pull out?"

"Keep it in. Even in this resting state."

"If I continue, it will feel too good to stop. I should either pull out and jack off or stay in and fill you."

"Jack me as you fill me up," Leonard said.

Dan resumed his thrusting but never at a frantic pace. The slow movements were enough to bring him to the edge. He masturbated Leonard's stiff cock and whispered in his ear, "I'm so close. Are you?"

"Yes."

He spurted inside Leonard and increased his hand's motions on Leonard's cock. Leonard screamed as he exploded into Dan's hand and onto his belly. They continued thrusting for another minute and then slid into rest. Dan felt like he had blacked out. When he opened his eyes and stared into the dimness of Leonard's bedroom, he rubbed his hands across Leonard's belly through the still very wet cum. He tasted it and raised his fingers toward Leonard's mouth. He took it, sucking his index finger as he did.

"Can you talk," Dan asked.

Leonard laughed. "Barely."

"You OK?"

"I don't know what happened except it was more pleasurable than anything I've ever experienced. And so different than any sexual experience I've ever had," Leonard said.

"Me, too. Those could have been my words."

"What do we do now?" Leonard said.

"You could tell me to leave. Or we could just lie here until our cum dries. Maybe fall asleep."

"Have you been ordered to leave in the past?"

"Yes. My friend did just that. After the first time," Dan said.

"You two must have gotten over that since you continued."

"Yeah. Took a while."

"Are you missing him right now? Wishing I were him?"

"No. You are very different. And I am different," Dan said, exaggerating the truth.

"That's good?"

"Very good," Dan said.

Dan rubbed Leonard's ass cheeks. "Maybe I should get going. It's late.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but please stay."

Dan kissed Leonard's back and neck. "That's a very generous offer."

"I'm breaking all my usual rules, so might as well go all the way. We probably won't get much sleep if we stay in this bed. But I don't care."

They showered together and drank a small amount of wine. It was going on eleven, so they brushed their teeth and returned to bed. They talked until three in the morning, about all aspects of their lives, but mostly their earlier sexual experiences. Leonard began playing with Dan's cock and made it hard. "Do you mind?"

"What do you intend to do with it?"

"It feels so good in my hand. But I know I'd like to suck it again."

"Please do."

As Leonard practiced his oral skills on his knees alongside Dan's chest, Dan rubbed Leonard's lower back and across his ass cheeks. Leonard paused. "That was the first time you fucked a man, right?"

"Yes. We each took each other's cherry in that respect."

"Some of your cum is leaking out from earlier."

Dan felt the moisture at Leonard's ass. "Your gift continues to give," Leonard said.

As he continued to rub Leonard's ass, Dan could see him harden. "Do you want to sixty-nine?"

"Yes. Which position"

"Try to position yourself on top of me. Let's see if that's comfortable."

Soon they had each other, and Dan could reach Leonard's ass from his position. As he rubbed and sucked, Leonard paused and simply enjoyed the sensation. "Hope you don't mind, Dan. The sensations running through my body are overwhelming me."

Dan continued to suck and finger him. Leonard rolled onto his back and touched Dan's cock. "You're still hard."

"I didn't think I'd get this aroused again. So soon," Dan said.

"Lie on your back."

Leonard rose up, lubed himself, and sat on Dan's cock. "I've turned you into a gay man," Dan said.

"I was already. You just confirmed it."

"I may not cum again. Not sure how long I'll stay hard."

"Doesn't matter. Just wanted your cock in me again." He rose up and down on Dan's cock. "Do you like it?"

"Shit. This is all so new. I've never fucked a man before."

"This is probably the wrong time to ask, but will you come back and see me again," Leonard said.

Dan laughed. "There's probably a greater chance of you not wanting me back."

"You are a terrific conversationalist. When I thought of being with a man, I thought he'd be the strong, silent type. He'd cum and leave. You're quite entertaining."

"Thank you. And you might make me cum again if you continue."

Leonard continued to rise and slide down until Dan starting breathing heavily. He held Leonard's cock, but Leonard pulled it away from him and started jacking himself. As he started to shoot on Dan's belly, Dan felt himself go off inside Leonard.

They fell asleep and woke at nine. Dan quickly showered while Leonard lingered. "Is your bum sore?" Dan asked when he came out of the shower.

"A bit. A discomfort that will linger for a few days perhaps. Help me figure this out."

"Let me know your conclusions," Dan said as he leaned down to kiss Leonard goodbye.