Running in the Rain

RUNNING IN THE RAIN by K. Nitsua. Copyright 2001 by the author.

I'm still not quite sure how it happened. A year ago I was a happy man. I had a good job at high-tech firm whose name you'd recognize, with possibilities for advancement. I had a house in a nice neighborhood. I had an SUV that I'd splurged a bit to buy, but that I was making steady progress paying on. Most of all, I had a beautiful girl whom I loved. I was even toying with the idea of popping the question.

I still have everything except the girl. But my life will never be the same.

I guess I could blame the fact that I wanted to lose weight. I'd been working very hard and been under a lot of pressure to produce. Not only did I not have enough time to exercise, but my way of dealing with the stress had been to eat.

Patti, my girlfriend, was too nice to say anything. I noticed, though, when we went out to dinner, how she'd order a salad and a diet soda while I had an appetizer, entree, and dessert, washed down with beer and coffee. She'd always finish first and watch me eat.

I looked at her, with her honey-blond hair, brown eyes, flawless complexion, and curves all in the right places. Then I took a good look at me. It hit me that unless I got things under control fast I was going to become a fat slob. Already all my clothes, especially my pants, felt too tight. I also realized I was avoiding looking at myself in the full-length mirror in my bedroom when I got dressed after a shower.

It's ironic , but Patti was my main motivation to get into shape. I wanted to look good for her. So I bit the bullet and changed my eating habits. I gave up the Egg McMuffins and hash browns in favor of instant oatmeal and fresh fruit. I drank Slim-Fast for lunch and started eating sensible dinners, as the commercials love to say.

Well, darned if it didn't work. I started to drop some pounds. Then it really sank in. Thin and flabby was no better than fat and flabby. I was going to have to work out as well as diet. Okay. I had a bench and a set of free weights that I hadn't used since I was in college, dusty but intact.

I went to the local bookstore and bought a copy of Men's Health magazine, after studying the bare-chested cover model. That guy looked great and I wanted to look just like him. So I set to work, lifting, crunching, grunting and groaning, three times a week. At first I almost quit, I was so sore the next day. Little by little, I began to see results. My belly stopped hanging out over my belt and became flat and firm. I doubled the frequency of my ab workouts and to my delight, after a couple of months I began to notice ridges on my stomach, and that got me really fired up. I'd never had a six-pack even when I was younger. I took out several subscriptions to exercise magazines, started popping creatine pills, bought more equipment.

I got a real glow on one day when Patti snuggled up to me while we were walking down the street and said, "I love walking with you. I see other women look at you and me. I know they're wishing they could be me." I kissed her and put my arm tighter around her.

There was just one thing. It was great that other women were checking me out and that Patti was too secure to be jealous. I was kind of thrown, though, when I noticed that other men occasionally seemed to be doing the same thing. It hadn't occurred to me that I might attract the attention of gays and I didn't appreciate it. When I mentioned this to Patti she told me not to be so uptight. "Face it, you're a handsome guy, Sean darling," she said. I decided I could live with a few unwanted stares.

I spent hours reading the magazines I got, studying the pictures of the bodybuilders, trying to figure out how I could look more like them. They were so cut, so defined, and they filled every inch of the skimpy workout gear they wore. Little by little I realized I could wear that stuff too and not look ridiculous. One day I bought an International Male catalog. At home I turned the pages, looking at the models in the underwear and swimwear sections. They looked so hot wearing just the bare minimum. I thought about how it would feel to have only a thong or a posing strap on. Suddenly I realized that I was breathing fast, my heart was thudding, and my cock was halfway hard. A normal guy isn't supposed to think things like that. I shut the magazine and was about to pitch it in the trash, but something stopped me. I didn't look at it any more that evening, though. I put it at the bottom of one of my desk drawers and went to work out.

Despite my new muscles, I still was having trouble keeping the pounds off, and decided that I had to add regular aerobic workouts to my routine. There was a high school in my neighborhood that had a new running track and I started using it early in the morning before I went to work. Keeping this up turned out to be really hard. I hated getting up in the morning, especially with stiff legs from the last run. I struggled through a week or so and was about to quit. Saturday of that week dawned cool and foggy. I'd already decided to take Sunday off to give myself a break.

Usually this early I was alone on the track, but today there was another man already running when I arrived. He was wearing a white T-shirt and those shorts with the Texas flag pattern on the butt that look so stupid on most guys. Not on this guy, though. Truth to tell, he could have worn a burlap sack and still turned heads. Even from a distance I could tell he had the kind of body that could have been featured in the exercise mags. From the back his torso rose in a textbook V-shape from his small waist, his butt just slightly wider beneath, supported by strong legs. His calves bulged out as he ran. He had his fists lightly clenched at the ends of two massive arms.

I stared as he came back around toward me. His features were chiseled, his hair dark and wavy. His chest strained at the confines of his T-shirt. I tried not to look too obviously, but I couldn't miss the healthy size of the bulge in the front of his snugly fitting Texas-flag workout shorts.

To my surprise, the stranger raised one arm in a friendly wave and smiled, showing a set of white teeth that positively glowed in the gray light. "Morning," he called as he passed in front of me. I realized he was running much faster than I had thought at first. He made it look easy.

I raised a hand in response and ducked my head, my cheeks burning. Why did I suddenly feel like I was at my first dance or something? I quickly got on the track and began my run, forgetting that I hadn't stretched or warmed up. My muscles reminded me soon enough, though. I slowed my pace and resigned myself to being lapped by the other guy on the track. This wasn't a race, I reminded myself, but my male ego was still bruised.

Sure enough, the handsome man blew by me repeatedly as I doggedly did my laps. Maybe the fifth or sixth time he came up behind me, though, I heard his footfalls slow down, and then he was in step beside me.

"Mind if I join you for a bit?" he asked, smiling. After all that running he didn't even sound particularly winded.

I shrugged, much as I could shrug while jogging. "Sure, if you like. I'm not exactly going at your pace, am I?"

"I'm almost done. This is my cooldown."

"Aw heck, you sure know how to make a guy feel small." He was using me as his post-workout pacer.

He laughed, and clapped me on the shoulder. "Don't mean to do that, buddy. Cheer up. You just got started, right? Trust me, you'll get better."

I looked at him. Maybe it was just oxygen debt but his presence was making me feel lightheaded. "Well, thanks for the vote of confidence." I stuck out my hand at him. "The name's Sean. Sean Mathews."

His grip was firm. "Barry McDaniel. You live around here, Sean?"

We did several more laps, keeping a pace at which we could exchange a word now and then. Barry lived only about a mile from my house. He worked for a communications firm in town. Soon I had done my couple of miles. We gradually slowed down until we were standing, panting, at the side of the track.

"That was one long cooldown. Thanks for keeping me company. You didn't have to do that."

"My pleasure absolutely," he said. "Much more fun to run with someone."

"Well," I said, "I'm not exactly on your level."

"You will be. Want to do it again?"

This took me by surprise. "Why would you want to? I'm a beginner compared to you."

Barry shook his head, smiling. "Doesn't matter. We can run separately and join up at the end, just like today. In a few weeks you'll be as fast as me anyway."

"Well, okay, if you're sure I won't cramp your style."

"You won't."

At the parking lot near the track Barry stopped in front of his car and shook my hand. "I usually don't come here this early on the weekend, but I'm sure glad I did today." He smiled. His eyes were bright blue, very different from Patti's warm brown ones. Suddenly I felt shy again. "See you Monday morning," was all I could say.

So we met at the track on Monday, and on Tuesday. Tuesday night Patti and I went out to dinner and then to her apartment afterward. Things got hot and heavy and I ended up spending the night, which I hadn't planned on. The next morning I had to rush to get back to my house and change before I went to work. I thought of trying to contact Barry but I was running too late.

Thursday morning when I joined Barry at the track he said, "I missed you yesterday."

"Sorry," I said. "I had a hot date."

"A date."

"Yeah." I told him about Patti, how long we had been going together and how serious we were. When I was finished, I thought Barry might tell me about his social life, but he was quiet. As a matter of fact, he didn't have much to say about anything that morning. Probably I'd pissed him off by standing him up the day before.

We walked to our cars, silence still hanging over us. I turned to him. "Barry, sorry again about yesterday. There wasn't any way for me to get a hold of you."

He looked thoughtful. "That's true. Let me get you my card. It has my cell phone number on it."

He unlocked his front door and began rummaging in the glove compartment. I couldn't help noticing how his sweaty shorts stuck to his rear, outlining the cleft between his dimpled butt cheeks and the straps of the jock he wore underneath. Searching for something else to look at, my eye fell on a sticker he had on his rear bumper. It was a brightly colored rainbow flag.

Barry turned to me at that moment. "Here it is. Maybe you could give me yours too--"

He stopped as he saw what I was looking at. A small smile appeared on his face. "Do you still want this?" was all he said.

I looked at him. It all added up--the sticker. How he wouldn't talk about his private life. And how great his body was. I had to think about this. It seemed rude to refuse, so I said, "Sure," and took the card from him, not meeting his eyes. "Listen, I'm late. Got to run, Barry." I hurried to get into my own car.

"Sean?" I looked up. "See you tomorrow?"

"Sure," I said, then got in and started the engine. I was all the way to the street before I expelled my breath in a long sigh.

After I got home from work that day, I thought some more about what had happened that morning. Finally I picked up my own cell phone, fished the card Barry had given me out of my wallet, and dialed his number. He answered after a couple of rings.

"Barry, this is Sean," I said.

"How are you doing?" His voice was friendly, neutral.

"Fine. Listen," I said, then stopped. I had no idea what I was going to say. I kept talking anyway.

"I just wanted to say--things are cool between us, right?"

"As far as I know. Why?"

"Well, I don't know." This wasn't going the way I expected, and I was floundering.

"Oh, I get it. You were calling to see whether I'd fallen on my sword because you'd discovered my dark secret. Is that it?" His voice was amused. I got defensive.

"All I wanted to say was it's not a problem with me."

"And your telling me every detail of your hot night with your woman is not a problem with me."

"Fine." We were silent for a moment.

"Sean?"

"What?"

"I'm just giving you a hard time. You're a nice guy. Thanks for calling."

"You're welcome." Somehow I felt good out of all proportion to the small compliment he had given me.

"And cute besides. See you tomorrow," he laughed, and cut the connection before I could say anything.

My face was burning. Why did he have this effect on me? I knew as I sat there, though, that I wanted more than anything to be out there on the track tomorrow, running beside him.

Things were fine after that. Barry encouraged me as I got into shape and was able to keep up with him better. I was keeping up my weight training program all this time as well, and felt really good about the way I looked.

The only problem in my life, oddly enough, was Patti. We usually got along so well that she caught me by surprise when she complained.

"I never see you any more. You're either at work or working out," she said.

"That's not true," I started to say, then thought about it. I was doing the weights pretty regularly every other day, and going running with Barry every weekday morning before work and on Saturday as well. It was a lot. But it was getting results. And I was doing it for her.

"And when we do get together, half the time you're falling asleep."

It was true that I'd caught myself yawning at dinner, because I'd gotten up early that morning to run. I guess our sex life had fallen off a bit too. I was thinking of bed these days as a place mainly to sleep. I had begged off spending the night at Patti's once or twice because I was just so tired.

"Sean, you've got to change your routine," she said one evening. I'd had a hard day and things had gotten kind of tense at dinner.

"You're so distant and preoccupied, and you won't tell me what's wrong." Her lip was trembling. "I can't go on like this."

I sighed. "There's nothing wrong." I found myself wishing it were morning and I was out on the track with Barry. My friendship with him seemed so simple compared to the difficulties I was running into with Patti.

I tried to tell Barry about what was going on a few mornings later. We had developed a routine where we would meet at the track, run on it for while, then take off down some of the neighborhood streets. The surrounding area was hilly and the changing terrain gave us a good challenge. By now I was running with him the whole time, though I accused him of deliberately slowing his pace so I could keep up. He denied it, smiling.

He ribbed me at first about "laying my heterosexual angst on him," as he put it, then was philosophical.

"She'll come around. Maybe you should take a few days off working out, just to smooth things over."

"But I don't want to. If I give in on this, she'll think she can run my life. What is it with women anyway?"

"I wouldn't know." He grinned, then added, "Count your blessings. At least you have a relationship to work on."

"So you don't have one? A relationship, I mean?" I asked, cautiously.

Barry turned his head and looked at me, and for a moment I thought I'd overstepped my bounds. "No," he said, and it seemed that was going to be the end of it.

We jogged in silence for a few minutes, then out of the blue he said, "He died a few years ago."

"Oh." I figured I knew what that probably meant. Then I said something really stupid. "Are you, like, all right?"

All of a sudden I was running alone. I looked back over my shoulder. Barry had stopped abruptly at the side of the road, his hands on his hips. I turned and jogged back to him, puzzled.

His eyes were steely with anger. "Yes, I'm all right. And even if I weren't, you can't catch it just by running next to someone."

I stood, open-mouthed, then got mad myself. "I know that. I'm not stupid, Barry, just because I'm straight."

He glared at me a minute longer, then dropped his eyes. "You're right. I'm sorry, Sean."

By now my anger had dissipated, replaced by shame. "It's okay. I had no right to ask you that. Call it a draw?" I stuck out my hand.

I was relieved when he smiled and shook it. "Sure." He didn't let go when I expected him to. All of a sudden I was very conscious of his nearness, the heat and the clean smell of his sweat coming from his powerful body. I pulled my hand away.

"Maybe we should get back." I turned to go. For an instant I wasn't sure he was coming back with me, then I heard his steps behind me catching up.

We jogged back to the track in silence.

That night I tossed and turned in my bed for hours, unable to fall asleep. Finally I decided to help things along and jack off to relax. Lack of sex with Patti was making me tense. I wasn't sure why I hadn't felt that old charge with her lately. In one of our more heated recent quarrels she had even accused me of being unfaithful, then immediately and tearfully apologized. I took her in my arms and assured her of the truth--there was no other woman.

I reached under my bed and took out the small bottle of lubricant I kept there for just these occasions. I applied it to my cock and began the familiar, comforting rhythm of stroking it, slowing down when I got too aroused, wanting to make it last as long as I could. I tried to visualize Patti naked above me, riding my cock as she did sometimes when she was in an especially sensual mood.

I couldn't hold out long tonight--I was too horny. Soon my hand moved faster and faster until with ragged gasps I shot hot spurts onto my heaving belly. I lay there until my breathing returned to normal and the cum had started to congeal, then I got up, wiped myself off and put on a pair of shorts. I slipped back underneath the covers and closed my eyes.

Shooting my wad had relaxed my body, but a nagging little worry tugged at my brain. As I'd rushed toward climax I'd thought about myself with Patti, slamming into her soft body, hearing her cry out with ecstasy. As the orgasm overtook me, though, the fantasy had suddenly vanished and other images had come flooding into my mind. I'd seen Barry, raising the hem of his soaked shirt as he wiped the sweat off his face after a run, giving me a glimpse of his hairy, muscled midsection. Another time, doing one of his stretches, he had bent over with his back to me, and the hem of his shorts had ridden up enough for me to see the strip of white elastic crossing his butt underneath.

It was images of Barry in my mind's eye that had pushed me over the edge, drawing the hot cum out of me. It was a while yet before I finally fell asleep.

It was early March when Patti informed me that she would be gone the following week. Her younger sister would be on spring break from college and they had planned a trip to Arizona together. I acted surprised and hurt, but secretly I was relieved. Things hadn't improved between us and I thought that we could use some time apart.

Barry called me at the office the Friday she left. I was glad to hear his voice--despite our recent troubles, Patti and I were still very close and I was missing her already.

"I'm a free man for a week," I told him. "Let's make tomorrow's run a bit later--around eleven?"

"Sounds good to me," Barry replied. "It's supposed to be overcast, chance of rain, so it shouldn't be too hot."

The next day dawned not only overcast, but downright threatening. When we met at the track it looked like a storm was imminent.

About ten minutes before the end of our run our luck ran out. As we slowed to our cooldown pace spots of water appeared on the pavement around us, and I felt the drops on my head. In less than a minute the rain had turned into a steady downpour.

I turned to Barry. "What should we do?"

He shook his head. "We're wet already. It's not lightning. Why don't we just finish?"

"Might as well," I agreed.

So we kept going, and soon were both drenched to the skin. The air was warm and as long as were moving we weren't going to get chilled. A strange exhilaration took hold of me. It was fun, running in the rain with my friend. Some feeling or memory tugged at my mind but I couldn't quite get it to come into focus. I gave up after a while and concentrated on running. Finally we came back around to my block and I had an idea.

"We're near my house. Why don't you come in and we'll wait the rest of this out," I said to Barry.

"Thanks, that would be great."

"Let's go to the back door so we don't drip on the rug."

We headed up my driveway and around to the back of the house. I fumbled in my wet shorts for my keys. Now that we had stopped moving I was getting chilled, and my hands shook as I tried to unlock the door. Finally we got in and stood in the middle of the kitchen floor, teeth chattering, jumping up and down, trying without success to get warm as puddles of water formed at our feet on the linoleum. An air-conditioned draft blew in an arctic blast around us.

"Shit, I'm fucking freezing."

"The bathroom's down the hall to the left. Get in a hot shower," I told Barry.

He looked at me. "You're shaking too. Want to join me?"

A fresh chill struck me at that moment and I shivered violently. "There isn't room for two in there. I'll go in the upstairs bathroom. I'll bring you something to put on. There should be a towel there. "

"Thanks." He disappeared down the hall, still dripping water. Now I had to do something to get warm. There were extra towels in a linen closet upstairs and I made a beeline for the stairs.

In the second-floor hallway I stripped off my soaking running clothes, heedless of the mess I was making. I pulled out piles of towels, took the largest one I could find and rubbed myself vigorously to get the circulation going again. No matter how much I tried I couldn't seem to get warm. My feet felt numb and my teeth chattered uncontrollably.

I knew the water heater in the house didn't have enough capacity to supply both showers with enough hot water at the same time. If I tried to use the shower in my own bathroom Barry's would get cold.

In a moment my feet were moving of their own accord down the stairs and toward the bathroom on the first floor. I paused at the door, hearing the sound of running water. I knocked loudly and walked in without waiting for an answer.

The first-floor shower was a stand-up compartment, encased in frosted glass. Barry's clothes and shoes were in a sodden heap on the floor. I saw him huddled underneath the steamy spray. He looked up, startled, when I banged on the door, and opened it.

"I... there isn't enough hot water for both showers," I began.

Barry took in the situation at once. "You're going to catch pneumonia. Get in."

I swear I had no thoughts at that moment other than to get some warmth back into my body. I threw off the towel around my waist, stepped in and let the hot spray wash over me, throwing my head back and sighing as warmth began to creep in and vanquish the chill.

After a while I had to look at him. The compartment was small, built for a single person, and Barry stood only a foot or so away from me. I had never seen him naked before. His shoulders were wide, his pectoral muscles defined and symmetrical, topped with large, dark nipples and lightly furred with hair, matted against his skin at the moment by the water. The hair outlined the ridges on his stomach, and thickened as it descended toward his crotch. My eyes followed the stream of rushing water down his body, to the cut cock and dangling balls nestling in a thicket of dark hair, impressive even in repose. I thought of what his cock might look like hard.

I saw a hand, Barry's hand, take hold of the genitals at which I was staring. I raised my head and looked into my friend's smiling face. There was no way I could pretend I'd been looking elsewhere. I started to chatter, sounding ridiculous even to myself.

"Sorry to kick you out," I said. "I was just so cold."

He shook his head, still with that smile. "It's okay." I hoped he would get out, but he didn't leave.

"Do you need to get under the water again? Are you still cold?"

He shook his head again. His steady gaze sent a wave of heat flooding through my body that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. To my appalled surprise I felt myself getting hard.

"Poor Sean," Barry said softly, barely audible above the sound of the rushing water. "Your teeth are still chattering," and with that he stepped forward and put his arms around me.

"What are you doing?" I stiffened and tried to push him away, but not for nothing was Barry built the way he was. He tightened his grip and I was trapped. My arms were pinned against my sides and the shower was too small for me to get any sort of leverage against his body. Besides, something strange was happening. The more I struggled the harder my cock became. I felt something else hard pressing against my stomach as well.

"Sean, Sean," Barry said, close to my ear. "Don't be scared. Let yourself go. You know you want to."

The futile struggle, the heat of the rushing water, the hardness of his body against mine--it all started to overwhelm me. Almost without willing it I sagged against him. In response, Barry relaxed his grip just enough for me to raise my arms. I felt my hands slide over his strong back and suddenly we were locked in a fierce embrace.

"Sean," Barry said again. His hands roved over my wet skin, caressing, then slipped between our bodies. I felt one hand grip my cock as he pressed his mouth to mine. No, my brain said, and I resisted for a moment, shaking my head back and forth, before I yielded. His tongue slipped in, not hesitant like Patti's when we made out, but demanding and urgent. I kissed him back, gripping his head as if to weld our mouths together.

We broke apart and Barry drew back, looking into my eyes. "You are so gorgeous." His face disappeared from view as he quickly knelt. I looked down just in time to see him grasp my cock and take it into his mouth.

Pleasure surged through me. I raised my head and let out a soft moan, which turned into a startled cry as the stream pelting down on us abruptly turned cold. The hot water had run out.

I turned and quickly twisted the knob to "off." Laughing and cursing, we climbed out of the shower and took our towels, drying each other off, deliberately being rough, grabbing each other's cocks and horsing around. Suddenly I stopped. We fell silent, panting.

"What is it, Sean?"

I stood, trying to grasp the enormity of the step I was on the edge of taking. I looked at my friend, naked, his hair damp, his expression quizzical. He was the only one to whom I could appeal for guidance.

"What am I doing?" I asked him.

Through all that's happened, I've held on to what Barry said next, because I think he meant it.

"You're doing what's right," he answered. When I stayed silent he raised a hand slowly and touched my face. I kissed his palm. We didn't let go of each other for the next couple of hours.

Try as I might, I can't forget that first time Barry and I made love. And I don't feel funny using that phrase, because that's what it was.

At first I was carried away by the novelty--how strange it felt holding a man's hard, muscular body in my arms instead of the yielding flesh of a woman's. How different his chest looked from Patti's, with its two chiseled slabs lightly furred with hair. I ran my hands over it, feeling leathery skin and hard muscle instead of cupping smooth handfuls of female breast. I traced the ridges on his stomach, down to the long, heavily veined pole jutting from between his thighs, capped by a crown of darker flesh wet with clear fluid. I hesitated before I took hold of it, which made him chuckle. "It won't bite," he said.

Somehow I had it in my mind that two men together would be rough and uncaring, interested only in getting their rocks off. It wasn't that way at all. Cumming seemed to be the last thing on Barry's mind. He took his time, using his hands, his lips, his tongue to show me all the ways in which a man could make another man feel good.

That's why even now his memory stays so clear in my mind. It was the almost shocking contrast between the granite hardness of Barry's body and the tender way in which he used it--the contrast between the sandpaper stubble on his chin and the softness of his lips and tongue. I discovered that my nipples were just as sensitive as Patti's when he took them in his mouth. He licked and fondled them until I was writhing with delight, then worked his way down to my hard, leaking cock. I had already felt his mouth on it, but was totally unprepared for the way in which he teased the head with his tongue, licking the precum from the opening, running his tongue around the crown, then suddenly descending the shaft until his nose was pressed against my pubes, engulfing me. Soon I was groaning helplessly under his expert ministrations.

Patti had given me head, but I always felt she was doing it to please me. Barry was doing it not only to please me, but also because he loved what he was doing.

As if reading my mind, Barry ceased his labors momentarily, raised his head and winked at me. "Can you tell I love your cock?"

My laugh was shaky. "Uh--I think so."

"So fucking hot." His eyes darkened with renewed lust. "Got any rubbers? I want this thing up my ass."

Something in me recoiled at the thought of what he was suggesting, but his consuming desire overrode my inhibitions. "I keep some in the nightstand," I said, pointing with my eyes. "The lube's under the bed."

Barry snickered. "For those sudden midnight urges, eh? Good man." In a flash he had gathered the necessary equipment together and was carefully rolling a condom over my cock. He stroked lube onto it, then reached behind himself. When he was done he raised himself over my prone body, took hold of my sheathed cock and guided it into the cleft behind his balls. I felt a pressure that increased almost to the point of pain, then a sudden, squeezing warmth. Barry's face contorted with momentary pain and he stopped moving.

"You okay?" I asked him.

He nodded, managing a smile. After a moment he began to bend his knees, lowering himself toward my body. I raised my head, watching my cock disappear inside him. The sensation was indescribable--I'd never felt anything like the velvety smooth pressure and heat that surrounded my organ. I felt his butt pressing against my pubic bone and realized I was all the way in.

I looked up at Barry's face. His eyes were closed, his mouth open, his expression one of rapt ecstasy. Again I felt the shock of revelation. There was no doubt he was enjoying this as much, if not more, than me. He leaned forward, grabbing and stroking my chest with the palms of his hands as he rocked back and forth.

"Fuck that's good," he said softly. I made some noise of assent. Barry opened his eyes and smiled at me. He raised his body so that my cock partially emerged, then brought himself down in one quick motion, taking it all the way back in. Simultaneous grunts of pleasure came from both of us.

"You like that?"

Without waiting for my answer, he began to move his hips so that my cock slid in and out of his rectum. One strong hand grabbed his own cock and began to jack it as he used mine. Barry's asshole was far tighter than anything my dick had ever been in before. Expertly he worked muscles somewhere inside, squeezing and rubbing my pole until I was on the verge of shooting. With that odd telepathy he had, Barry slowed his motions then, opened his eyes and looked at me again.

"Not yet, buddy. Let's turn over."

I realized what he meant as he slid a hand under my back and urged me up. He turned onto his back, taking me with him, until I was lying on top of his body, my cock still inside him, his knees against his chest and his calves hooked over my shoulders. Barry grinned mischievously, grabbed my head and planted a quick kiss on my lips.

"Do your thing, straight boy. Fuck me."

I began to thrust, quickly increasing my pace until I was drilling his hole. The harder I fucked him the more Barry egged me on, chanting a litany of obscenities while he fisted his own leaking cock underneath my driving body.

"C'mon, fucker, give it to me. Fuck that hole. Give me that hot load in my man cunt. Fuck me. Fuck me."

"Gonna cum," I said through gritted teeth.

"Do it. Do it now, fucker."

"Oh, yes, oh yes, YES--" I lunged forward as if to split Barry in two as the orgasm boiled up from my balls, shouting wordlessly at the top of my lungs as I delivered what felt like a quart of cum through my cock into the rubber inside him. Dimly I was aware of Barry shouting too, his hand moving frantically between us, hot fluid spilling onto his stomach and matting the already sweaty hair.

I clung to him like a drowning man in a hurricane. At last I started to catch my breath and my body sagged down onto his, just as it had in the shower. My head hit the pillow and I opened my eyes.

I lifted my upper body and looked down at him, then at myself. Here I was, lying with a man bent double underneath me, my cock buried in his ass. My body was sticky and fragrant with his sweat and cum. For quite a while my body had been doing all the talking for me, but now my mind began to try and take back control.

"You okay, Sean?"

Barry must have sensed something of what I was thinking, because he added, "Don't think. Just feel. How do you feel?"

I closed my eyes and obeyed. After a while I opened them and said, "I feel--good."

Barry smiled up at me. "So do I. Except my legs are cramping. Let me up, will you?"

I got him some old shorts of mine to wear, but my shirts were not going to fit him. Barry shrugged. "It's only a few blocks back to the track. Got anything I could wear on my feet?"

The rain had stopped and we walked down damp streets, water dripping from the leaves on the trees and the clean scent of storm-washed air around us. Barry strode bare-chested next to me, an pair of my old sandals on his feet, his wet clothes and shoes in a bundle under one arm. I cast a sidelong glance at him. I had held this man in my arms, kissed him and made love to him, possessed him as I had my girlfriend. It seemed unreal.

We stood by our respective cars at the track and chatted briefly, just as if it had been any other day we had gone running.

"See you Monday morning?" he asked.

Involuntarily I hesitated. "Uh--can I call you? I need to check."

He shook his head and sighed. Something in his expression made me bridle.

"What?"

"Yeah, you do that." He turned and got into his car, leaving me standing there, staring after him.

"You pissed me off. I didn't think you were going to call," Barry explained a few days later. We were lying in my upstairs bedroom. The front that had brought the rain the past weekend had passed, and the days had been brilliant, the nights cool and clear.

"Well, I did."

"Yep, you did. I should've known you'd surprise me. You have from the beginning, you know." He ran a hand over my stomach. I shivered at his touch.

"Why?"

"I thought you'd be a much tougher nut to crack, if you'll pardon the expression. Even though I could tell you wanted it."

"You could?"

He laughed. "Sure. Your eyes were all over me from the very first time we saw each other at the track. Otherwise I wouldn't have said anything to you. I don't usually go after straight guys. I was surprised as heck when you said you had a girlfriend."

"Really?" I thought about what he had just said. Barry had picked up on signals I hadn't even known I was sending. What did this say about my relationship with Patti? For the moment I pushed those thoughts away.

"Really. Then, when I came on to you last weekend and you were so into it. I figured you'd go on a big guilt trip after it was over and I'd never see you again."

"I don't do that to people."

"Well, I'm sure glad you didn't do it to me. One taste of this baby wouldn't have been enough." He took hold of my cock, which, despite having shot a healthy load very recently began to stir again.

I sighed and stretched. "I'd never thought I'd say this, but I love the taste of yours too."

He looked at me intently. "You ready for it tonight?"

I hesitated. Barry had made it clear that he wasn't just a "bottom"--a word whose new meaning I had learned from him--but wanted to fuck me as well. At first I couldn't even imagine a man's cock up my ass. But looking at him take me into his body, his face when I was driving into him, hearing his ecstatic cries when he came with my cock inside him--I had had to admit to myself that I wanted to know what it felt like.

I said, "Yes."

Barry grinned. "Good man. First fluff me up." He had taught me that word as well, and I set to work on his cock, relaxing my throat so I wouldn't choke on its impressive length. Barry's sighs and murmurs of "that's good" told me I was doing okay. Soon enough it was standing at its full length, hard as steel. I got a condom and sheathed him, then lubricated both him and me. Finally the moment of truth had arrived. I put my feet on either side of his body and squatted down toward his cock, hanging on to one of shoulders for balance.

Barry smiled encouragement. "Take it slow. I'll help you."

I felt the tip touch my hole and shivered. Gingerly I descended, my thighs trembling with the strain of holding myself up, and felt my sphincter start to give under the pressure. Suddenly it gave way and the head of his cock slid in. I felt a sharp pain and cried out. I tried to rise up off of him, but Barry had anticipated this and his hands gripped my hips firmly, keeping me impaled on his rod. He shook his head, smiling.

"You're not getting away that easy. Just stay there."

"But--"

"Just stay there. Try to relax."

It wasn't easy to stay in that squatting position, and my legs were quickly getting fatigued. Barry had counted on this. Soon there was nothing I could do but give in and let my body slowly sink downward. To my utter surprise there was no more pain, only warm fullness as his flesh penetrated deeper into me. In a moment my full weight was down on him. I let out a sigh of astonished delight.

"How's it feel?"

"Incredible," I gasped. He laughed.

"I thought you'd like it."

I moved my hips experimentally and drank in the new sensations that coursed through my body. As I rode his dick Barry rose up off the bed and took me into his arms, so that I was cradled in his lap. We kissed, slow and long.

"Oh Sean," Barry whispered in my ear. "You're so hot."

He pushed me down, changing our positions, until I was on my back on the bed and he was above me. His eyes never left my face as he began to thrust into me, at first slowly and gently, gradually fucking me harder and faster until he was slamming into my body, drawing a grunt from my lungs at every impact.

He took my cock and stroked it until it was rock-hard and ready to shoot for the second time that evening, then kissed me again. That sent me over the edge. My cries were muffled by his mouth clamped on mine as I shot my load onto my stomach. I heard incoherent sounds emerge from his throat and knew that he was cumming as well.

We finally broke apart, still gasping for air.

"Congratulations," Barry said. "You're no longer a virgin."

"What do you mean? I lost it a long time ago."

"Sean, think about it. Men can lose their virginity twice."

Somehow that struck me as funny and I started laughing helplessly. I couldn't stop. Barry laughed too though I'm not sure he knew what the joke was.

"For a straight guy, you're an awful lot of fun," he said.

Looking back, it's funny, but I never once felt any guilt during that week. Of course I was kidding myself, but at that point I didn't even feel as though I were cheating on Patti. After all, I wasn't with another woman.

I even had idle thoughts, absurd thoughts, that I could somehow make a life with Patti and still see Barry too. I was living in a dream world that week. I shouldn't have been surprised when it all came crashing down.

Patti had been pretty short with me before she left and I didn't know exactly when she was coming back from her trip. As of Saturday night I still hadn't heard anything from her. I figured she might call sometime during the coming week. I told Barry to come over on Sunday morning, our day off from running, and we'd go get some breakfast.

Promptly at ten o'clock I heard someone knocking at the kitchen door.

"Where's your car?" I asked him.

"Left it at the track and jogged over here. I actually just did a short run. Feeling full of energy today." He took me in his arms and kissed me. He was damp with perspiration, radiating body heat. It only took that much for my body to respond and I pressed harder against him.

"Mmm, looks like I'm not the only one with a lot of energy this morning." His hands were sliding underneath my shorts. "No underwear--I like that." He knelt, pulled my erect cock out and took it in his mouth. I closed my eyes and caressed his head. His hands squeezed my ass cheeks. He let go of my cock and buried his face in my pubic hair.

"Damn, you get me so hot." He reached down and from somewhere in his shorts he pulled a foil-wrapped object out and waved it up at me, waggling his eyebrows playfully . "I brought this. Just in case you wanted to have a quick one before breakfast."

"Want to go upstairs?" I was powerless to resist him.

He shook his head. "Turn around and bend over."

The stove was installed in an island in the middle of the kitchen. I braced myself against it. Behind me rough hands pulled at my scanty clothing. The sweat shorts I was wearing hit the floor and his hands pushed my t-shirt up to my armpits. I heard him fumbling behind me with the condom wrapper, tearing it open, quickly unrolling it onto himself and spitting onto it. I wasn't sure how it was going to feel without any more lube than that but I wanted him so badly at that moment it didn't matter.

I felt the blunt head of his cock at my back door, and before I knew it he had shoved it open and entered me. My head snapped back and I screamed at the burning pain--he wasn't being nearly as gentle as the first time. I writhed, trying to get away, but he had me pinned against the counter with his weight and his bodybuilder's arms.

"Shh," he whispered in my ear. "Don't fight it."

He thrust with his hips again and I let out a second agonized cry, desperately trying to accommodate him. A warmth began to rise from deep inside me and cut through the hurt. My protests subsided to short gasps and I dropped my head, my senses overwhelmed by Barry's cock surging through me, irresistible and unstoppable. At last I felt his body press up against mine.

"That's it. Take it all, baby," Barry crooned behind me.

Still a bit peeved by his rough entry, I looked back at him and snapped, "What choice do I have?"

At that he grinned and said, "None," slamming into me for emphasis and drawing an "Oof!" of mixed pain and pleasure from me. There was more pleasure than pain, though, and I bowed my head and gave in to his conquering body as he began to fuck me at his leisure, drawing his cock out slowly and thrusting it home, raising himself or bending his knees to plow into me at different angles, finally settling into a steady, hammering rhythm of lust. He grasped my cock and began to stroke it in rhythm with his thrusts and I knew I couldn't hold out much longer. Sure enough, in a minute guttural moans rose out of me at the same time as cum shot from my cock held in his pumping hand and ran down the enameled cabinet doors in thick splashes.

As I began to come back to earth I opened my eyes, which had been squeezed tightly shut, and blinked until they came back into focus. Suddenly my heart stopped.

Patti's face was staring in through the open kitchen window, her features a mask of horror. As our eyes met she disappeared. I heard footsteps running down the driveway.

"Jesus Christ!"

I wrenched myself off of Barry, pulled up my shorts and ran out the door after her, calling her name. I caught up with her on the street, as she was trying to unlock her car. To this day I don't know why she hadn't come up the driveway in it, the way she usually did. Maybe it was fate.

"Patti, wait."

She turned, and I could see she was crying. She was holding a gift-wrapped box in one hand.

"Get away from me."

"Patti, please."

"GET AWAY!" she shrieked, and threw her package at me. I dodged it, and heard the crash of something shattering on the driveway. She got her car door open, got in, and started the engine. A roar, a shriek of rubber on pavement and she was gone.

I stood in the street looking after her, sick to my stomach. Finally I turned back, picked up the box she had thrown at me and slowly opened it. Inside were the shattered remains of a brightly colored piece of crockery, some souvenir she'd brought back as a present for me from wherever she'd been.

Footsteps sounded. Barry had come outside. He stood before me now, disheveled and beautiful. The picture had no effect on me whatsoever. Funny how things could turn completely around in an instant. It had happened twice in a little over a week.

"I didn't know she was coming," he said.

I stared down at the ruined gift. "Neither did I, obviously."

"I'm sorry. Anything I can do?"

I shook my head.

"Guess I'd better go."

I didn't watch as he began to walk down the street, back to the track.

She wouldn't answer the phone when I called. Damn that Caller ID.

A week went by, then two. I had to see her and somehow make things right. Suddenly the week with Barry seemed like a bad dream. I was a normal guy, damn it, not one of those fags or queers. I had a good job and a wonderful girl I was going to marry. The life I had planned was about to slip out of my grasp and I couldn't let that happen.

I left my own job half an hour early, drove to her office building, and waited in the parking lot for her to come out. I was hoping she'd be alone, but when she did appear, she was with a guy, a sandy blond with a buzz cut, dressed like a dweeb in a short-sleeved shirt with a necktie. That made me mad. I stepped out of the car and walked rapidly toward them.

"Patti," I called. Patti had been smiling and chatting with her companion. As soon as she caught sight of me she stopped in her tracks, and her face darkened.

"Sean, what are you doing here?"

"Patti, could I talk to you?"

"She doesn't want to talk to you, bud, can't you see that?" her companion said, his jaw rising. I ignored him and looked straight into her eyes.

"Patti, please. Just for a minute."

Something flickered in her face. She turned to her co-worker. "Mike, it's okay."

"You sure?" he asked, still staring at me, unwilling to give in.

"Please, Mike, just go. I'll be fine."

He left, casting a baleful glance at me over his shoulder, and Patti faced me.

"Well?"

"Can't we go somewhere?"

She shook her head. "This is as good a place as any."

"Then walk with me." Unwillingly she fell into step beside me as we started down the sidewalk. There was a concrete bench at the first corner and Patti sat on it, holding herself very straight and looking straight ahead.

I perched beside her. "Patti, let me explain."

She wheeled around to face me, her eyes blazing. "Explain? I know what I saw, Sean. I'm not stupid."

I floundered. "I know, I know. I--Patti, all I can say is it will never happen again. I promise."

She closed her eyes and sighed. Then she shook her head. "I wish I could believe you. But--I don't."

"Why not, damn it? Why can't you believe it was just a stupid mistake? He--that guy, he talked me into it. He forced me."

A ghost of a smile appeared on her face. "You? No one could force you into anything, Sean." Her expression clouded again. "I was standing there for quite a while before you saw me."

I felt sick. "Why didn't you say something?"

She shook her head violently. "I was too shocked. I opened my mouth and no sound came out."

The image of her horrified face rose before me.

"I couldn't stop looking. I was looking at your face. Your expression. He was--doing that to you and you were in heaven. I'd never seen you look like that when we were making love. Not ever."

She stared ahead again. "I'm not--you know, prejudiced. I have gay and bi friends. I think everyone should be free to live as they please. But, I don't want a lover or--a husband--like that. I'm just not that open-minded." She tried to smile as her eyes filled. "Call me old-fashioned."

I sat silent. Patti rose, dabbing at her eyes.

"Goodbye, Sean."

Her footsteps receded into the distance.

As if things weren't bad enough, it had become clear that Barry was avoiding me. He left me messages canceling our dates to run together, saying he was sick. I kept getting his voice mail both at home and at the office. One day, while I was on my way to run some errands, I saw him coming toward me, jogging in the bike path along the other side of the street. I raised my hand in greeting and honked my horn. I was sure our eyes met, but he kept right on running without the slightest sign he'd noticed me.

It was a month after the day Patti had walked in on us when he finally called me at the office. "Sean, I'm sorry I've been out of touch. Can I meet you somewhere after work?"

A few hours later we sat in a booth in a noisy, impersonal chain restaurant along the highway.

"Sorry I haven't called," he said. He stared down at his beer.

"It's okay," I said, pretending a casualness I didn't feel. "I know you've been busy. I'm glad you called."

"I have some news. You know the economy's been bad--well, the company's eliminating my position."

"Tough luck, Barry," I said, really sympathetic. "If there's anything I can do--"

"No," he cut me off. "Actually, it's not so bad. They have an opening in their Dallas branch and they offered it to me. I'll have to take a pay cut and they can't cover moving costs, but hey, it's a job. I accepted their offer."

"Oh." I was stunned but tried to keep my cool. "So, that's too bad. No more running in the rain, eh?" I tried to smile. "Dallas isn't that far. I can come up on weekends, twice a month, at least--"

"Sean." His eyes met mine at last. "Look, I'm thinking in terms of us just being friends from now on."

I gave up then and just sat, staring at him. Barry started explaining then, which only made things worse.

"That day your girlfriend saw us--that weirded me out. I never meant for it to go this far. It's just too much for me to deal with right now."

"There's no girlfriend any more, Barry. You think there would be after what she saw? We're history."

"We both need space," he insisted. "We need to step back and take a deep breath, think things out. Away from each other."

He was gazing steadily at me with that movie-idol face. The thought that he might actually believe what he was saying was the only thing that kept me from throwing my Diet Coke at him.

"Well, fine." I rose. "Thanks for having the guts to say it to my face." I tossed a couple of bills on the table and turned to go, just like in the movies. I'd always wanted to do that.

"Sean." I looked back. "I'll call you once I get settled, okay?"

"I won't hold my breath." I left before he could answer, pushed open the door and strode rapidly to my car in the parking lot. Something was wrong, though--my key wouldn't go in the front door lock. I was cursing under my breath before I looked in the window and saw a pack of cigarettes on the front seat. I didn't smoke. This wasn't my car.

I stood there, willing myself not to look up to check whether Barry had seen the conclusion of my grand exit.

It was a couple of months later. Barry hadn't called, not that I had thought he would. I was flipping through the Sunday paper at home and caught a glimpse of a familiar face in a photograph. I stopped and turned back until I found the picture in the Society section. Sure enough, it was Patti, pretty as ever, with a man who seemed familiar. They looked relaxed and happy. The paragraph below announced the engagement of Patricia Richards and Michael Fulton. I remembered Patti's co-worker in the parking lot that day after work. It was him.

I worked up the nerve to call her one last time a few days after I saw the announcement. My hand was trembling as I held the receiver. Let it be her machine, I thought. I could leave a casual congratulations and have done with it.

"Hello?" Patti's voice said.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

"Hello? Sean?"

"Patti," I finally managed.

"Hi, Sean," she said. I could read nothing in her tone.

"How did you know it was me?"

"Caller ID."

"Well, I'm surprised you answered, then." She didn't respond to my weak attempt at a joke, so I hurried on. "Listen, I won't keep you long. Just wanted to say congratulations on your engagement. I'm sure Mike's a wonderful guy."

A pause, then she said, "Well, thank you, Sean. It's nice of you to call. I mean that."

She didn't say anything about inviting me to the wedding. Had I expected her to? Somehow I had to say something else before I let her go.

"Patti." A lump rose in my throat and I had to struggle to get the words out. "I also wanted to say... I'm sorry." Silence at the other end. "Sorry for what I put you through. You didn't deserve it."

"Sean," she finally said. "Could I ask you something?" Her voice was shaking now, no doubt about it.

"What?"

"This... thing." She couldn't bring herself to use the word. "With the other man. It just happened, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"It... it wasn't going on all the time we were together?"

"No," I said as firmly as I could. "I would never have done that to you, Patti. You've got to believe me."

"Okay," she said, her voice a little brighter. A pause. "Are you, like, going with guys now?"

Something lurched in my chest, and I realized that I was on the verge of tears. "I--don't know, Patti. I don't know anything. Except that I'm alone and I'd give anything to be with you again." I knew it was hopeless but I had to say it.

Silence at the other end, then, "Sean?"

"Yes?" I could barely get the word out.

"I think about you a lot. I want you to be happy."

This was too much. I choked out, "Bye," and hung up the phone before I lost it.

I wasn't telling Patti the truth, or not the whole truth, at any rate. I did miss her terribly--her eyes, her laugh, her willingness to listen, her warm, fragrant presence when we were in the car or at the movies. But late at night, alone in my bed, it wasn't her body I wanted next to mine. It was a hard male chest I felt pressing down on me in my dreams, rough stubble raking across my cheeks as lips pressed against mine and an urgent tongue darted into my mouth. I saw Barry's steely blue eyes boring into me as he drove his cock into me, splitting my body and soul wide open.

Once I awoke in the middle of the night, crying out, to find that my body and the sheets were covered with sticky, cooling fluid. In my dream Barry and I hadn't even been fucking, just running around the track at the high school on a cool and cloudy morning, good buddies out for a run, happy and carefree. I lay, staring into the dark emptiness of my bedroom. Finally I rose to clean up the mess.

The summer days passed slowly by. One day I came home after getting a quick dinner at the barbecue place near my house. It had been cloudy and humid all day, and as it grew dark the clouds became more threatening.

Sitting in a chair in my office, I paged through the messages on my answering machine, hardly listening to most of them. The last one started. I recognized the voice and sat up, alert.

"Sean, it's Barry. Sorry I haven't called. Seems like I'm always apologizing." A short, embarrassed laugh. "Anyway, things are going okay but--I miss you. Call me back if you feel like it."

He said his number. I slumped back down in my chair as the computerized voice from the machine informed me there were no more messages.

As I sat watching TV a bit later, I saw the flash of lightning outside my window and heard the rumble of thunder. In a moment the patter of rain sounded on my roof and quickly increased to the steady drumming of a massive downpour. Minutes passed and the deluge showed no sign of abating.

I was alone and the only light in my house was from the TV. Impulsively I turned it off. Now I was surrounded by darkness and the sound of the rain, punctuated now and then by the abrupt glare of a lightning strike and the deep, rolling rumble of thunder. "The gods are bowling in heaven," my father used to joke.

I went to the back door and opened it. A cool, moist breeze struck me in the face, the smell of fresh dirt and the peculiar odor of storm-charged air wafting into my nostrils. Rain was falling in steady rivulets off the awning. I unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it over my head, then pulled off the rest of my clothes and my shoes. When I was naked I stepped out onto the wooden deck. It was dark and no one was going to see me. I raised my head and opened my mouth, letting the rainwater pelt my face and run over my body.

Suddenly a memory rose unbidden in my brain. It was a broiling hot summer day when I was a boy of eight or so, playing with my best friend Russ in the back yard of my family house in a small town in West Texas, running through the sprinkler that my father had thoughtfully set up for us. My parents had gone off on some errand, warning us to stay in the yard. Obsessed as we were with our activities, we didn't notice the cloudburst coming until the first crack of thunder sounded loud above our heads. Then the rain began to fall in large, heavy drops.

I started for the house, but Russ said, "Why are you going in?"

"We're going to get wet," I started to say, then realized how silly that was, even before Russ laughed. Then a mischievous grin spread across his face. Even as a little boy I thought him handsome.

"Let's play a new game," he said. "Greek Olympic runner."

"How do you play that?" I asked, puzzled.

"Well," Russ replied, "You have to take off your bathing suit."

"Why?" I said, sensing danger.

"`Cause, stupid, the ancient Greeks ran without anything on when they raced. Don't you know anything?" He added, placatingly, "Don't worry. I'm going to do it too."

This piqued my interest. "Okay," I said. "You first."

"No, you," he said immediately. "Okay then, let's strip together. First one to touch the back fence wins. Ready, set, go!"

Before I lost my nerve I quickly pulled down my suit and pulled it off. The rain was pouring down around us and the sprinkler, ridiculously, was still going. Russ peeled his trunks down and flung them high into the air, letting out a whoop as he began to dash across the yard. I pursued him, feeling the rush of air between my legs, reveling in the glorious freedom of running naked, watching Russ's butt muscles pumping as he ran toward the fence, the water pelting down on us both. We might have been struck by lightning in that instant but I wouldn't have cared.

As I stood there in the dark, that day from my childhood faded and blended seamlessly into a much more recent memory, the Saturday afternoon early that spring when Barry and I had come back to my house laughing, out of breath and soaked to the skin. I thought of how every cord of muscle in his back had been visible through the soaked cotton of his T-shirt, how the fabric of his shorts had clung to his buttocks. We had gone inside to dry off, and then my life had turned upside down.

My hands clenched into fists. By now I was trembling violently with cold and my teeth were chattering, but I took no notice, aware only of the hot pain inside me that threatened to burst my chest. Tears started out of the corners of my tightly closed eyes, running down my cheeks and momentarily warming the skin on my face.

I dropped my head forward, my body collapsed and I sank to the deck, the wet wood icy against my forearms and knees. A sob escaped me, then another. After the third I opened my mouth in a wail as a storm of grief shook my body. The indifferent rain continued to fall, and another rumble of thunder shook the earth. No one saw me in my cold misery. No one heard me crying.

END