Disclaimer -- This is a work of fiction depicting a situation involving homosexual men. If you are offended or are under the legal age to view such matierials, please do not read further. By continuing, you agree that neither the author nor nifty are responsible for any actions that occur as a result of this story or an individual's interpretation. Also, if you are a "bible thumper," please email me any comments you have. I will rebuke every claim that you make. If you have other comments, feel free to email me if you wish. The address is boricuaholandes@hotmail.com.
Between Christmas and my birthday, two and a half months pass. The season before my twenty-sixth birthday was wrought with emotion, spanning the spectrum of emotional reaction. There were good days; there were bad days. There were days that I hated the world, but there were days when I longed to move past the events of the previous December and get back in touch with the world. Things that I once loved doing terrified me. Things that terrified kept me from doing anything other than go to class and come home on regular days, and only making trips to Abu's house or my parents' home in Oneonta.
Pedro was a rock during that time, though. He stood beside me, being my cheerleader one hundred percent of the time. My love for him grew stronger and stronger with every passing day. This being said, though, I had become somewhat dependent on him, expecting him to put me before him from time to time. He never would say anything to me, though. I think he still felt guilty about what happened.
Around the time of my birthday, which falls on the 7th of March, things had begun to look up for me. My last semester in school was working out nicely.
None of my classes were too stressful. Gonzálo's trial ended with a guilty verdict just days before my 26th birthday. Ecstatic relief enveloped me as the foreman of the jury read the verdict to the judge.
That night, just as those before the verdict, I only slept because Pedro's massive arms held me tightly, protecting me from the world. Even though Gonzálo was in jail for his invasion of my being, I struggled with moving past the demons that still existed in my soul. Visits to Georgia were helping, but they hadn't yet been completely successful. Antony came down almost every weekend to see both Maria and me. His youthful energy and wisdom helped me as much as trips to see Georgia.
One of things that helped me get up every morning was waking up to the comfort of the arms of the man who loved me as much, if not more, than I loved him. On the morning of my birthday, he wasn't there. At some point in the hours before I woke up, he'd slipped away from me. I got up quickly, but there was no sign he was even in the apartment. I didn't immediately panic, which surprised me. Inside, I knew that he was OK, wherever he was. I heard the coffee pot sputter in the kitchen, and I walked in to find that Pedro had made a pot of coffee before his earlier departure. In front of the pot was a plain, white card with my name written across the front.
I opened the card. "Happy Birthday, my favorite man," it started. "I love you, so very much. You have brightened my world since the moment we first met. You are my life! You've been through so much since we met that I wanted your birthday to be the most special one of your life. I've been trying to think of just how to make it memorable. I think that I've found a way, but you're gonna have to do some running around." I smiled at the insertion of a smiley on the note, since Pedro very rarely veered from formal rules when writing. I continued reading, "I want you to go take a shower. When you get out, wear the outfit that I've laid out for you in the laundry room. I love you, and I will see you later. Your next clue will be there. Don't peek before you shower! –Love, Pedro"
I smiled and rushed to take a shower. When I finished, I grabbed the clothes from the laundry room. Pedro had purchased a pair of Lucky Brand jeans and a blue t-shirt that said "birthday boy" in a vintage style. I pulled on the pants over a pair of black underwear that always made my ass look perfect. For some reason, I felt like being perfect for him when I did see him. The excitement of the challenge made me momentarily forget about all the hurt and the pain of the few months before. I grabbed my wallet and keys from the dining area table. I fumbled around but couldn't find the key to my car on the ring.
I searched the room, but there was no sign of the key to my car. I was distraught and reached for my cell phone to call Pedro, which I had almost forgotten in the hurry to get out of the apartment. Sitting beside my phone was a Volkswagen key/remote control. I walked outside and a cream colored Jetta sitting outside the apartment. It was adorned with a white bow. I hit the unlock button on remote control. The car beeped. This was evidently part of my birthday present. "Shit," I thought to myself.
I walked slowly to the car and inspected it all over. It was brand new. It was perfectly clean. I took the bow off the car before opening the driver's door and sitting on the leather seat. "This is why he was asking me cars the other day," I said to myself as I recalled a conversation we'd had a few days before about cars. I clicked the key open and started the car. The tank was full, and there were fewer than 15 miles on the car. The car reeked of newness. I looked around the parking lot, and my car was no where to be found. I pulled myself completely into the seat and played with the knobs and buttons for a moment. I was enthralled by the car. The CD player began to play after a moment.
I heard the sound of Pedro humming through the speakers. "Oh hey babe," he said in a moment. He continued to hum. "I hope that your birthday is going well. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to be there when you opened your lovely brown eyes this morning. That's one thing I love about you. Your eyes are so beautiful. Hmmm... Well, I guess you're sitting in your new car now. I ordered it especially for you. Everything is just how you were telling me you wanted it, even the seat warmers. I hope that you like it. Well, I guess I should explain what I meant when I said that you were gonna have to do some running around before you got the rest of your gift. It's nothing too bad, I promise. It's more like a scavenger hunt, only easier. You'll be going around the city taking care of a few things. I know you've not gotten out a lot lately, but you need to. You're too awesome and too hot not to show yourself off." I began to tear up as he continued saying something else. He was forcing me to do what I've known for a while that I needed to do. "Now. You're first stop is at your bank. Ask for Sharondola when you get there." Silence came through the stereo system for a second, followed by music. Paulina Rubio's "Quiero cambiarme" was the first song to play, followed by Andrea Echeverri, one of Pedro's favorite female singers.
As I drove out of the complex and toward the bank, I thought of the past few months. I'd not thought about how secluded I'd become. I literally only left my house to go to class, to go to see my counselor, and the occasional trips to see Abu and my parents. The drive seemed longer than normal, though I know it was only because my mind was preoccupied by the introspection Pedro had started with his words on the CD.
I arrived at the bank to find that the only space was the one closest to the door. When I walked in, the lobby was more crowded than I'd ever seen it. There were five tellers, each waiting on what looked to be an extremely stressful customer. To my right, there were desks set up where bankers were helping with account questions. To my left, a security guard sat at a desk in front of three offices, each of them occupied by someone on the phone.
"Are you David?" one of the bankers asked.
"Yes," I said, turning to see one of the gayest people I'd ever seen.
"Great! Sharondola has been waiting on you. Give me just a second, and I'll get her for you." He walked across the crowded lobby and over to one of the offices opposite his desk. The lady looked up and out at me through the glass walls and smiled. She held up one finger, noting that she would be right with me, and the boy returned to the desk, smiling at me as he passed. In a moment, Sharondola hung up the phone and came out, into the lobby.
"David!" she said as she got closer to me. "Happy Birthday!"
"Thank you!" I said as I smiled at the African-American lady walking toward me. "You must be Sharondola," I went on as I extended my hand to shake hers.
"Yes sir, I am," she responded as we stood in the bank and talked for a moment.
"So you seem like a lucky man, David. I've known Pedro for a while, and I don't know that I've eve seen Pedro as happy as when he talks about you," she confessed.
"I love him so much," I said, feeling compelled to add to her comment.
"Good. Well, I was told to give this to you when you came by," she said, handing me an envelope. I opened it to find a note and a gift card. "Well, David. I've got to get back to work. It was nice meeting you, though, and I hope you have a great day."
"I will," I said, turning to leave the bank. As I walked back to the car, I opened the card, which was written on the same paper as the note this morning.
"Dear David," it started, "I see you've met Sharondola. She was my one and only girlfriend in high school. I'll tell that story later, though. Well, the next place you need to go to is Dante's Inferno, that little gourmet barbecue place on Lakeshore. Ask for Dante, once you get there. I love you more than anything! --Pedro"
Per his instructions, I travelled down the road from Greensprings to Lakeshore. I turned toward the Wildwood Shopping complex, and as I turned in, I noticed the crowd of people standing outside the restaurant. "This is the place," I said to myself, having never seen the place without a crowd loitering outside for the best ribs in Birmingham.
I parked and made my way through the crowd of people and to the host's station. Two old women were standing at the station already, arguing with the man standing there. "Do you know who I am?" one of the women asked.
"No ma'am. Who are you?" the guy asked.
"I am Margaret Becket, and my husband is the pastor at First Baptist Church of Birmingham," she explained, obviously proud of her connection to the most vocally conservative church in the city.
"Ma'am. That doesn't impress me. Number 1: I'm gay. Number 2: I'm Methodist. And if you look behind you, you'll see David Jansen, son of Senator Michael Jansen. He's not even gonna get a table for at least an hour and a half. So if you'd like, just step over to the bar, have a couple of drinks, and loosen up ladies," the guy explained. Everyone around chuckled, including me.
"Well, where is your manager?" the old lady asked, sounding offended.
"He's right over there, let me get him. DANTE!"
"Yes," the man said as he came up to the desk after dropping off a plate of barbecue for a table closely.
"I would like to file a complaint against this man," the old lady said. "In addition to the fact that he's rude, he's also a queer. Those people shouldn't be allowed to be in public, much less in a position to offend the decent Christian people of this city."
"Ma'am," Dante said, interrupting the lady, "I'm gonna go ahead and ask you to leave my establishment. In this place, we love each other, regardless of any difference that we might have from one another. If you can't respect that, then I'll ask you to leave."
"Just wait until my husband hears about this," she said as she turned. She glared at me for a moment, but then walked past me.
"David, I assume," he said after taking a quick second to thank the guy at the host's stand.
"Yes sir."
"Pedro's told me about you. Come on with me," he said as we walked toward a table that had been reserved for something. "If you'll have a seat, I'll be right back with you," he instructed. I sat at the reserved table for a little while as people passed quickly. Dante eventually returned to the table with two plates of ribs.
I must have acted excited at the sight of the plates, as Dante started to laugh. "Pedro always has the exact same look on his face when I serve him ribs."
"Oh really?" I asked, smiling at the man as he sat to join me for a quick lunch.
"Yeah. It's the same look that he's had on his face since his grandfather would bring him in when he was a little boy. He loves some ribs." Dante seemed to have a special place in his mind and heart for Pedro, almost as if he felt the need to protect him from something. "He's a good kid. I hate that he's been through so much stuff in his life, but he's happy now. He's not been this happy in a very long time."
We sat there and ate and talked. He asked me a lot of questions about myself, almost to see if I were good enough for Pedro. When I finished, he arranged for his waiters to sing `Happy Birthday' before handing me another envelope. There was just a card this time, but he told me that lunch was on him.
As I walked out of the restaurant, several people wished me happy birthday, making me wonder what had kept me inside my apartment for so long. As I stepped back into the Jetta, I opened the letter. It was as sweet as the others, but gave me more instructions about where to go.
He sent me on two more destinations: to a tux shop and a shoe store before giving me a final instruction: go back home. By the end of the day, I'd driven to the eastern side of town, edging closer and closer to the end of the evening. As I drove back to the apartment, I thought about the day. It had been a really good one, better, in fact, than I'd had in a very long time.
When I got back to the apartment, I pulled the car into the same space it had been earlier in the day. An eerie emptiness enveloped the complex as I walked toward our apartment. When I opened the door, there was no one there. I was as alone in the apartment as I'd been when I left that morning, but I wasn't nervous by the prospects of what was going on.
As I sat on the couch, still relaxing, I saw it: the final note from Pedro.
It was taped to the front of the TV. As with the others, it was written on the same paper and with the same pen. "Dearest David," the letter started. "You have one final trip to make before everything is over. Get showered and put the suit on. Once you get out, call my cell phone. I love you! --Pedro"
I showered for the second time that day, readying myself for the evening. I got out and got dressed as quickly as possible. I was more than ready to see Pedro. Being without him for a day, I felt lost. As I walked out of the apartment, I dialed his number.
"Hello?" he answered. I heard music in the background that faded after a second.
"Hey baby," I resonded.
"How is the finest man alive?" he asked me upon realizing who was calling.
"He's awesome. How is the my favorite boyfriend?"
"He's really eager to see you, that's for sure," he answered. "Have you had a good birthday so far?"
"It's been interesting. I've liked my gifts, babe, but you spent way too much money on me."
"No I didn't. I got you what you wanted."
"But you bought me a car, Pedro."
"Do you not like it?"
"I love it, Pedro. It's exactly what I wanted. But it's a lot of money..."
"David. I don't care about the money. I got it for you because you wanted it. I have the money. I'm not worried about it."
"At least let me pay you back for part of it."
"No sir."
"Pedro!"
"David! Don't argue with me. It's yours; it's in your name; it's got insurance on it; there's no other money that you owe me for it. Understood?"
"Pedro. I understand. I love you," I said. I felt guilty about the amount of money he spent on me. Not just the car, but the tux, the shoes and everything else weighed on my mind.
"I love you too, babe. I'm sorry for getting upset. It's your birthday."
"There's no need to apologize, Pedro. So where am I supposed to meet you?"
"Someone's on their way. I don't want you to have to drive tonight."
"OK?"
"Just trust me," he said. I could hear him smiling. A knock on the door disturbed our conversation. "Hold on a second, Pedro."
"OK," he said as I pulled the phone from my ear. I cracked the door just far enough to see a man, clad in a black suit with a driver's hat.
"Mr. Jansen. I'm here to pick you up?" the man said.
"Give me just a minute," I said. Pulling the phone back to my ear. "You got me a driver?"
"Yep. I'll talk to you in a little while, though. I love you!"
"I love you too," I said, grabbing my wallet and apartment keys.
"Bye," he said, hanging up his phone.
"Mr. Jansen. Are you ready?" the driver asked.
"Yes. I am," I added as I locked the door. "So what's your name?"
"James, sir," he responded.
"Great. James. I'm David. Call me David."
"Yes sir," he said as he opened the door of the limousine.
For forty-five minutes, we drove toward the southern part of town. Between traffic and the basic idiocy of the drivers in Birmingham, it was hard to tell whether James was more nervous than me or vice versa. All of my emotions, though, shifted to awe and amazement as we pulled up to the `Hôtel la Fleur,' Birmingham's most posh hotel. It was 45 stories tall, and it was fabled to have a suite that took up the top two floors. It wasn't the highest building in Birmingham, but it was, by far, the nicest. Before Josh died, he said that he wanted us to spend our wedding night there.
We pulled under the awning leading to the door, and a valet came over and opened my door. "Good Evening, sir," he said.
"Good evening," I responded back as I walked to the door. A doorman opened the first door, while the second opened automatically. The doorman greeted me as well.
My shoes clanged against the marble floor as I walked past a gilded fountain and toward the front desk. Two equally stunning ladies, Beth and Dana, smiled and offered to help me.
"I'm David Jansen."
"Oh hi, Mr. Jansen," Beth said. "We've been waiting on you," she added as she walked from behind the counter.
Dana followed. "Security. Code DJ," Dana said into the walkie talkie she carried as they walked me down a corridor lined with carpet on the floors and original art on the wall.
"10-4" the security person called back.
In a moment, we entered the "Eduardo Morales Convention Hall." The room was dark. "Where are we?" I asked the girls. After a second, "God Sent You," a song from my high school days, began to play. A single light shone on the stage opposite the door I'd been brought through. A girl began singing the song from beneath the light. Enamored by the moment, I failed to notice that Beth and Dana had made their exit. I felt the presence of someone in the room other than the person singing.
"Hey," Pedro whispered from behind me. He put his hand around my waist and stood behind me. I jumped at the first touch, but was quickly calmed by the sound of him breathing in my ear.
"Hey," I whispered back. "I could kiss you, baby."
"Then turn around and kiss me." I turned around and found his lips, despite the almost total darkness. In Pedro's arms, kissing him, I heard the words of the song for the very first time. A single tear flowed down my cheek. "What's wrong?"
"I just realized why this is my favorite song. ...God sent you...to love and cherish me...you're the only man I need," I said as the lady sang to us.
Each note of the song touched me deeply.
"David. I love you," he said right as the bridge of the song was coming.
"I love you too," I added. A low light came over the room. I realized that we weren't alone. As I looked around, I saw my parents, Abu, Maria, and Antony. Cole, Jamie, and Kyle were standing on the other side of the room. "So how many people are coming?"
"Your brother and sister are on their way."
"Cool."
"Happy Birthday, my love," he whispered into my ear as my family and friends made their way to where we were. As the lights were brought up completely, our chanteuse was replaced by a DJ, who played a good mix of music over the course of the evening.
Each person there wished me a happy birthday. I felt loved by all of them and happy in my own skin. It was the first time for those feelings in a very long time. At around two that morning, the party began to wind down. By three, all of the guests had left and the hotel staff was clearing away the trash caused by the party.
"So did you have a good birthday?" he asked as he continued to stand there and dance.
"I did," I said as I looked into his brown eyes.
"I'm glad you did. Let's go up to our room."
"Our room?"
"Yeah. I managed to get us a room in this place for the night."
"Wow," I said as we walked out of the room and down the corridor to the main lobby.
We walked down the hall. I was on the right, and he was on the left. He draped his arm over my shoulder. The girls were still at work when we came back through the lobby. They smiled at us, giddily. "May I have our key please?"
"Yes, Mr. Morales," Dana said as she handed Pedro the key. We walked past the elevators to what was identified as an express elevator. Pedro inserted a key in the elevator, closing the door. The elevator shot up the side of the building. When it finally stopped, the door opened to reveal the most posh hotel room I'd ever seen. The elevator opened directly into the foyer of the room. The living room was next. It was decorated with dark leather sofas and mahogany tables. From the broad window, one could see a brilliant view of the southern part of the Metro area. There were two bedroom suites that adjoined the living room on the lower level. Scaling a staircase, we found the master suite on the second floor.
"So, Mr. Morales," I said as we both began to get undressed, "what prompted all this?"
"Well. I wanted to make it a very special night for you. I wanted you to have fun with people that loved you, that you loved. I wanted you to be a prince for the day," he said as he came over to me. He took me into his arms and kissed me deeply on the mouth. I was too busy thinking about how much I loved this man to realize that this was the first time in two and a half months that he'd kissed me like this. It was the first time since the rape that I'd felt that I could handle the electricity of his kisses.
"Are you OK?" he asked.
"Yeah. I'm great." I sat in silence for a second, letting him hold me. "Pedro?"
"Yeah babe."
"It's time."
"It's time? For what?"
"Think about it."
"Oh!" he exclaimed. I felt his hard cock press up against me through his pants.
"Now you understand!" I joked with him.
He reached himself down and kissed me again. I moaned as I began to lose control of the situation. I was nervous. I didn't know if I was going to be able to handle any of what was going to be going on, but I was more than willing to let Pedro have control of what was going on.
We undressed each other quickly. I later found out that I'd actually ripped two buttons on his shirt.
"You OK, Dave?" he asked before he took off his pants.
"I'm great Pedro. Now shut up and do me."
He chuckled and then went to the bedside table, pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom.
"How did you know I'd want it tonight?" I asked as he climbed onto the bed.
"Because you've been pushing yourself into my hips at night for the last three days," he explained. "And I just had a feeling." He finished pulling the condom over his dick and lubed his now throbbing member.
"Will you do me a favor?" I asked.
"Sure."
"Be gentle."
"Yes sir. And if you want me to stop, that's fine. Just tell me." Concern enveloped his face, waiting for reassurance that I was ready to go.
"Yes sir," I answered as he lifted my leg up. Slowly, he pushed against my sphincter. As he pushed in, I felt all of the sensations I'd not experienced in so long. I let out a sigh as I felt his push deeper and deeper into me.
"Are you OK?" he asked.
"Yeah," I answered as he stopped pushing. He felt so good inside me. He smiled. Slowly, he began to move back and forth within me. I loved the way he made me feel.
Pedro pumped and pumped as the sun shone began to rise and shine through the picturesque window that I realized spanned both floors of the suite. His breathing began to get deeper and his sweat began to fall onto my body. He moaned as he pushed deeper and deeper within me. The sensations caused by his massage of my prostate became too much for me. As he continued to pump my throbbing asshole, I felt the rumblings inside me. Before I knew it, I was spewing gob after gob of my own man juice. Some of it landed on my chest; some of it landed on Pedro; some of it ended up on the wall behind the bed. The tightening of my ass sent Pedro over the edge. I felt every burst from his penis. I felt every burst exploding in my ass. I felt one so hard that I knew the condom broke and cum flooded and coated my eager ass.
He fell onto me, having spent his last drop of energy. "Are you OK?" he said, more concerned about me than his own euphoria.
"Yeah," I answered, a myriad of emotions flooding my mind. "I'm better than fine." All of the fears I'd had were for naught. I was worried that it would hurt too bad; it didn't. I was afraid that I'd get sick to my stomach; I didn't. I was afraid that all of the images that still haunted me from the rape would resurface; they didn't, partly because Pedro and I were making love. "How are you?" I asked after a silence.
"I'm great. I just made love with a great guy that I love more than life."
He turned over, laying his large masculine arms across my cum-soaked chest. He kissed my cheek twice before falling asleep. Within a few minutes, I fell asleep myself.
My birthday ended far differently than how it started. At the end of the day, I was happy, a far cry from the emptiness and sadness that I'd felt as the day opened without Pedro by my side. It was a far cry from the many mornings, afternoons, and evenings that I'd lived through since Gonzálo's disruption of my life.
--- Questions or comments, email me on: boricuaholandes@hotmail.com ---