Second Chance

Second Chance Chapter 5 - Party Day

I woke up at a fairly early hour feeling quite good . Seeing that Tom was not awake, I went on the run that I'd missed the day before. Saturday was usually a gym day, but I figured that Tom and I would probably go to the gym later. On my run, I went south this time, along the lakeshore toward downtown. On my way back, I stopped by Klein's, an interesting Venezuelan bakery not too far from my condo to pick up some of their unique pastries. I got more than we would eat so that Tom could sample a few of the different kinds. My personal favorite was a flaky pastry with guava in it whose name I didn't know.

I walked back to my apartment with my bag of goodies and found that Tom was still asleep. I started the coffee pot, did my stretches, then jumped in the shower. After I dried off, I pulled on a pair of comfortable sweats and T-shirt. Back in the kitchen, I put the pastries on a decorative plate, poured myself a cup of coffee, and started reading the paper. I had NPR's Weekend Edition on quietly in the background.

As I looked around my apartment, I appreciated once again my decision to hold onto it after Pablo's death. The condo was on the second floor of a 4-story apartment building built in the early 1920s. Like most of the buildings in the neighborhood, the entrance was in a small courtyard with a lawn set back from the street. My condo had southern and western exposure so got a lot of light. The apartment had all of the charm one would expect of a 1920s building -- hardwood floors, a working fireplace, decorative woodwork along the ceiling. We had furnished the main rooms with mission style furniture, to keep with the Arts and Craft style of the building. But we had updated the bathrooms and kitchen so that they were sleek and modern. The kitchen was still a separate room -- I am NOT a fan of the open concept idea that has entirely taken over design -- but we did open it up with a window and bar with a couple of stools to make it an eat-in kitchen. The condo was a comfortable place and quite roomy. It was a good place to call home, and in the end, the memories of Pablo and our life together there made it more dear rather than difficult.

Around 9, I had a text from Karen, just checking what time I planned to arrive at the party. We texted back and forth a bit about party details.

Tom finally stirred around 10:00. I had given up waiting 45 minutes earlier and taken half of a sticky bun.

"Late night?" I asked.

"I will admit that I had fun," Tom answered sardonically.

"What time did you get in?" I asked. "I didn't hear you."

"2:30, I think."

I poured Tom a cup of coffee and added half and half, as I knew he liked it.

"So?" I said as I handed it to him.

"Like I said, I had fun," Tom replied coyly.

"Tom! I want details!" I pushed the plate of pastries toward him. "Here, have something to eat. They're from a Venezuelan bakery nearby." I pointed to one. "That's the most interesting. It's a guava tart of some kind."

He took the guava tart and the other half of the sticky bun I'd cut.

"Come on, I want details," I insisted.

"It was a sex club," he said. "So I had sex. A lot of sex."

He paused to eat a bit and sip his coffee.

"I got my room and walked around the place a few times. That place is huge! I'd forgotten they've got three floors! It was still pretty early so not very crowded, but there were already a lot of hot guys. I let this muscular 40-something Latin guy suck me in the sauna for a while, but I didn't want to cum already. This cute Black guy who had the body of an athlete started cruising me, so I took him back to my room and we fucked for over an hour. Turns out that he was a gymnast and he was so incredibly flexible. We tried every position in the book before I finally blew my load inside him. My God was he hot. All lean muscle and the smoothest, softest skin. That was shot number one."

He paused for coffee and pastries before continuing.

"So then I needed a little recovery time, so I went to sit in the dry sauna and then the steam sauna. I was going to go in the whirlpool too, but then I thought of all of the microbes that were probably festering in there and thought better of it. I wandered around a bit more, and this hot couple started giving me attention. They took me back to their room, and we made out for a while."

He interrupted himself. "You know, I've never really gotten three-way kissing. It never really works. But that's what the three of us did while I felt them all over. They were probably in their thirties, both muscle dudes, both Black, and hot as could be. One guy starts playing with my ass, and I thought, sure I can get fucked. So he bent me forward, lubed up, and took me standing up. He had a huge cock, but it wasn't that hard to take him. His boyfriend knelt down and started to suck me, but then he stood up and squeezed in front of me and slid his ass over my cock. Let's just say that mine was not the first cock he'd taken that night, because he was wide open and wet. But it felt amazing. So, that went on for while, a little Tom sandwich. They both had skills. When the first guy started to pump his load inside me, it set me off, and I shot into his boyfriend, and then the boydfriend shot all over the bed we were leaning on. That was load number two.

"Well, I needed a rest after that, so I went back to my room to take a little nap. But not too long after, there was a knock on my door. It was the gymnast who'd come back and wondered if he could have some more. So we fucked again for more than an hour. My God, was he fun! I was amazed that his ass didn't get sore, as much as I was pounding it. And the positions he could get into! I lasted for a long time, having already cum two times, but then I shot in him again, and then, I just stayed inside him as we made out for another twenty minutes. I jerked him off until he shot a load all over both our chests."

He took a deep breath as he remembered.

"By that time, it was 2 a.m., and I decided that shooting three loads was enough for me. So I showered and got dressed, got a car, and snuck back in here. I showered again, because, you know, eewww... the showers and everything there. But it was fun."

He yawned broadly.

"I'm glad that New York doesn't have any bathhouses, because I would be there every weekend."

"Ah, Tom," I said, "you never fail to disappoint."

"I need more coffee," he said, and refilled his mug. While Tom was finishing his breakfast, I went and got a load of laundry and put it in the washing machine.

"Should we go to the gym later?" I asked.

"What time is the party?"

"It starts at 7," I told him. "There'll be plenty of food, but it's not really a sit down event, so the idea was to have it late enough that people could eat first if they wanted."

"Okay, well that's plenty of time to fit in a work out, and maybe a nap" he said. "But I probably should do a little work before then."

Tom pulled out his computer and started dealing with something, while I grabbed the novel I was reading and curled up in my favorite armchair. I had a strict rule that I would not read or respond to emails or do other types of work on weekends. My office knew that they could text me if there was an emergency -- which did happen sometimes, like one of my clients getting picked up in an ICE raid. But otherwise, I kept Saturdays and Sundays for myself. It was good for my mental health.

Before I could open my book, though, my phone pinged. 

It was a message from Carl just saying that he was looking forward to seeing me tonight. His message was followed immediately by another from my niece, Susan.

• Hey Uncle Judah Is it okay if I bring Julio to your party tonight? - He doesn't know anyone in Chicago so I thought it would be a nice chance to meet some people

• Some OLD people, I replied

• I think he's fine with old people [wink emoji]

Wink emoji? I wasn't sure what that meant.

• Okay, sure.

Julio at my party. That was an added twist. Now Tom and Karen would see this hot young guy that I was fawning over and would recognize just how pathetic I've become. Ah well, I thought.

Still, it would be nice to see him.

I tried to read, but my mind was racing now with thoughts about the evening. I thought about who would be there and what might happen. I hadn't seen Langston and Dave in a few months. Were they brining the kids? I think that Karen said they were getting a babysitter so that they could have an adult night. My sister and her husband would be there, as well as Pablo's sister, Rosa, whom I hadn't seen for ages. I needed to be better at keeping in touch with her, I told myself. I went through the list of folks I expected from work. I had told Karen to invite everyone, because I didn't want anyone to feel left out, but she had asked me who was really key, because "everyone" was too many. In the end, I wasn't sure now how many from work would be there.

I'd given a few names of friends from church to invite as well. Pablo and I had joined Fourth Presbyterian nearly two decades ago. We had both been raised in religious families. Mine were mainline Protestants who were not particularly spiritual but had always taken us to church. Our church was not very political but generally progressive. Religion had never been an obstacle to their acceptance of me but instead had encouraged them to be accepting and loving. In contrast, Pablo's family had been strict Catholics, which was a main part of why they had rejected him when he came out. As a result, he had some resentment against religion, but when we reached our 40s, we both felt like we needed something different in our lives. We visited a number of churches over at least a year. Some were heavily focused on the LGBTQ community, but we were looking at church as a way to connect more broadly with the community. We ended up at Fourth Presbyterian, because it was a large and vigorous church that was gay friendly but was also involved in fighting homelessness and global warming and promoting racial justice. We attended services with some regularity and went to a monthly LGBTQ luncheon, but we had never been terribly active. After Pablo's passing, though, I'd become more engaged. I served as an usher, welcoming people to services, and helped with coffee hour. I'd even used my law training to help with legal issues for some of the homeless immigrant families the church worked with. I also went to the LGBTQ luncheon most months, which was a nice mix of people, some of them younger and more flamboyant, which I found fun. There were a number of other older gay men I'd become friendly with as well. Although they had't really become part of my core circle of friends, I did go out to lunch with them after church occasionally on Sundays when the LGBTQ luncheon was not happening. At least a few of them were likely to show up at the party.

And now Susan was bringing Julio. I wasn't sure what to make of that. I was happy that he would be there, but I was also worried that he'd be put off being stuck in a crowd of old queens. Well, Susan would be there, and there were a couple of younger folk from the office that he might be able to relate to. He would like Stephanie. And it could be good for him to meet a few young lawyers.

I gave up on trying to read and shut my book.

"Do you want to go to the gym?" I asked Tom.

"Oh," he looked up from his work and sighed. "That would probably be a good idea. This is just raising my blood pressure." He closed his laptop down and got up.

"Do you have a gym bag I can use?" he asked.

While I preferred to go to the gym fully dressed and come back home to change and shower, Tom liked to change at the gym. He shared none of my qualms about being regarded as a dirty old man ogling the hot young gym boys. In fact, he told me, ogling the boys was a big part of what inspired him to go to the gym. I found him a small duffel bag to put his gym clothes in and put my own shorts and T-shirt in my bag. I already had on a pair of sweats that I thought gave me a nice ass, so I just laced up my cross trainers. By the time I came back out of my bedroom, Tom was ready to go as well.

We walked the few blocks to the gym and I paid for a visitor day pass for Tom. We changed in the locker room. I was ready quickly, but Tom seemed to linger, enjoying slowly undressing and standing around just in his boxerbriefs as he put his street clothes into the locker. I left him and went out to do my weights. Tom did his own circuit, including some free weights and other exercises with which I wasn't familiar. I assumed that his personal trainer had developed a very specific work out for him. I considered my own body for a moment in the mirror on the wall of the gym and decided that I was in good shape and didn't really need a personal trainer.

After my weight circuit, I spent some time on the elliptical machine. Since I had already gone running this morning, I didn't really need any cardio, but I had to kill time while Tom was finishing up anyway. I had been listening to music on my earbuds but decided to switch to a podcast. It was discussing the upcoming elections, and I found it so disturbing that I switched back to music. I thought about a New Yorker cartoon I'd seen a few months earlier about the conflicting desires to be well informed and remain sane. Could the Apocalypse be avoided by just ignoring it, I wondered?

I finished up my workout and headed to the locker room, picking up a fresh towel from the front desk on the way. I stripped at my locker, wrapped the towel around my waist, and headed to the bank of showers along the back wall. Several of the showers were in use, and I noted that a couple of guys had just left the curtains open so that anyone could see them showering, which I found interesting. I turned on the water in one of the shower cubicles to let it warm, and once the temperature was right, I hung my towel on a peg outside, stepped in, and pulled the curtain shut. I rinsed off and then stood under the warm spray for a bit just to relax. Then I turned off the water, grabbed my towel and dried off, and headed back to my locker. As I was walking back, I passed Tom, who was strutting completely naked toward the showers with his towel tossed over his shoulder.

"I'm gonna head out, Tom," I told him.

"Okay," he said. "I'll meet you back at the apartment."

I dressed and, as I was heading out, I peaked around the corder to note that Tom was one of those showering with his curtain open. Why was I not surprised?

As I was walking home, I saw that I had received a couple of texts. One was from a church friend checking in about tonight's party. The other was from Julio:

• Susan invited me to your party tonight i hope it's okay if i attend ???

I smiled a little to myself and texted back.

• Of course it's okay. There will be a few lawyers that might be good for you to meet. - I would love to have you there. - But most of my friends are old and boring.

As I got to my door a few minutes later, his reply came in.

• Im sure your friends are not boring - I dont mind old - i like old [devil emoji]

Devil emoji? Well, what was that supposed to mean? All these emojis from Julio and Susan. I was not of the generation that used emojis excessively, but that definitely seemed flirtatious to me. This boy was going to be the death of me, I thought.

I decided to lay down for a little nap, with a big night ahead. As I was drifting off, I heard Tom come in. There were no saunas at my gym, so I figured that he couldn't have gotten himself into too much trouble, other than expressing his voyeuristic and exhibitionist side.

I lay there for a bit but couldn't fall asleep, so I gave up trying to nap and got up. Tom's door was closed, so I assumed that he was napping (which was rare for him, despite his frequent late-night exploits). I put on the tea kettle to make myself a pot of tea then turned on the TV to the Food Network.

I had a couple of more texts about tonight. I wanted to tell folks that they should text Karen, since she was in charge of the party, but I didn't want to start to be a cranky old guy, so I sent one of my church friends the address and told one of the younger lawyers at the firm that, yes, she could bring a date. I got out some crackers and cheese as a snack and put them on a nice cutting board, thinking that Tom might want some when he got up. Then I sat and vegged out for a while, sipping my tea, snacking, and paying no attention whatsoever to the cooking show that was on.

Tom came out a half hour or so later, wearing just his boxer briefs and yawning broadly.

"Your need to nap has infected me," he said.

"You chasing ass until 3 in the morning has infected you," I quipped.

"It was 2," he said, "but yes, I was out a bit late."

Tom sat down next to me on the couch and munched on some of the crackers and cheese that I had laid out.

"You want some tea?" I offered.

"That would be nice."

I got him a mug from the kitchen, filled it, then sat back down, burrowing into him a bit. He put his arm around me and pulled me closer. HIs bare skin felt smooth and warm against me.

"It's not so bad being old men," Tom said to me thoughtfully. "I would say that we are aging gracefully. I look around at other men our age, and frankly so many of them look their age."

"We're not aging gracefully. We're fighting it with every fiber of our existence," I objected. "Like that Dylan Thomas poem, `Do not go gentle into that good night ... Rage, rage against the dying of the light.'"

Tom rubbed the top of my head affectionately.

"Well, it's better than surrendering to pot bellies and sagging butts and wrinkly skin," he insisted.

We were quiet for a bit.

"Can you believe how long we've been friends, Tom?"

"We were so young when we met!" he said.

"We were," I agreed. "Young and stupid."

"And now we're mature and stupid," he added.

My phone buzzed, and I saw that it was Karen calling.

"Hello, Dear," I answered.

"Everything set for tonight?" she asked. "Anything else you need to make your party perfect?"

"Just your being there will make it perfect," I cooed.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she said dismissively.

I laughed. "Seriously, Karen, thank you for all of this. It means a lot to me."

She groaned. "Don't get all mushy on me. I might have to cancel everything."

"Okay. Duly noted: No mushiness."

"Alright, see you in a couple of hours."

We watched the TV for a bit. Tom flipped the channel to HGTV and then the Travel Channel until he found a show he liked. I got up and cleared our plates and cups and put them in the dishwasher and put the rest of the cheese and crackers away. Before long, it was time for us to get dressed. It took me a couple of tries before I found an outfit that I liked. I tried on a pair of khaki pants and a tight-fitting button-down shirt but didn't like how it looked. I ended up with a powder-blue T-shirt and dark blue cotton jacket and slacks, with a pocket square and tennis shoes that matched the powder-blue of the shirt. Tom assured me that it was okay to wear a cotton suit even though it was a couple of weeks after Labor Day.

"That's linen you can't wear after Labor Day," he said. "Plus, global warming and all that. The rules have all changed."

Tom wore a button-down shirt with a subtle floral pattern that brought out the color in his eyes and a pair of tight jeans that highlighted both his package and his butt. He took quite a while fixing his hair.

"It would be easier if you just shaved your head like me," I told him.

I was actually always impressed that the hair transplant he'd had was only noticeable if you really looked hard. "I paid a lot of money for the best procedure," he had told me. As a result, he had a nice full head of hair, that he styled nicely. He'd made the wise decision not to dye it, which I think always makes folks look older rather than younger, so it was a nice, sexy salt and pepper. Honestly, Tom had movie star looks.

Once we were all put together, we looked at ourselves one more time in the full-length mirror in my bedroom.

"We look fantastic. Shall we?" I asked.

"We shall," said Tom, and we headed out.

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