The Fraternity Reunion
(One Night of Love)
The thing is that it wasn't a college reunion; it was a fraternity reunion, and no spouses were invited. Whoever planned the event wanted it to be like old times ... just the boys. Furthermore, it was only a reunion of graduates of the classes of 2002 to 2005. These grads had actually shared the house together and would be more apt to want to reunite.
Paul, in Chicago, opened his invitation an hour before his frat house roommate in Seattle. He got really excited. He hadn't kept in touch with anyone for personal reasons. All through college, he had hidden his sexual preference. After graduation, he met, fell in love with, and recently married his husband Ken. Now, at this point in his life, he didn't care who knew about him, even his old frat brothers. He had had a crush on his roommate, Barry, all through the years they lived together. He was so happy and secure in his sexuality now, that he didn't even mind telling Barry and showing him Ken's picture. In fact, he couldn't wait. Ken was so handsome, and everyone told Paul what a great catch his husband was.
Speaking of Barry, Paul got a call from him that very evening. They screamed and carried on about how great it was to speak to each other again. Finally, Barry got down to the reason for the call.
"Look," he said, "we have to make our own motel reservations. There's a Holiday Inn near the reunion venue. How about sharing a room with me again like old times?"
"That would be great," Paul agreed. "Then we can fill each other in on what we've been doing these past thirteen years since graduation." Actually, Paul felt that sharing a room would give him private time to come out to Barry. The two of them had enjoyed a special relationship in college. Their friendship was beyond what they felt for their other fraternity brothers.
Paul felt really bad about leaving Ken alone for a whole weekend while he was in Boston, but Ken was very understanding. Not only did he give Paul his blessing, he encouraged him to take the trip. He didn't have to worry about Paul sowing wild oats behind his back. Paul had told him often enough that all his frat brothers, including his roommate, were straight, and how hard it was for him to stay in the closet during his college days.
Paul was due to leave for Boston early Saturday morning and return late Sunday afternoon. On Friday night, Ken jokingly said to him. "I'm going to make so much love to you tonight that you won't have any strength left for any of your frat brothers this weekend."
"I don't mind if you knock me out with love, but I told you, those guys are all straight."
"You never know," Ken said with a wink. "They all think that you're straight. Besides, some of them may have switched teams all these years later."
"Ken, honey, what are you saying? It sounds like you're giving me permission to play with others."
"Why not? It's a reunion. Anything goes."
"Thanks, but no thanks. I couldn't get it up for anyone but you, handsome."
"Don't kid yourself," Ken said, and he broke out laughing.
Paul arrived at the motel about an hour before Barry. This gave him a chance to hang up his clothes, and choose the bed closest to the window. He didn't do this to take advantage. His bed was closest to the window in the frat house, and he chose the motel room bed strictly on a subconscious level.
When Barry arrived, the two men fell into a bear hug. It would have lasted forever, but Paul was certain that he felt Barry's package, and it wasn't soft. He retreated rapidly. While Barry was settling in, the two men chattered away like magpies.
Finally, Paul said to Barry, "While I was waiting for you, I read our itinerary. We're meeting the guys for dinner at a seafood restaurant in Faneuil Hall Marketplace this evening. Jim Mackey made reservations for twenty-four. Lunch tomorrow is at a catering hall not far from here. There'll be thirty of us then. This afternoon and Sunday afternoon we're on our own until we leave. I think I'd like to visit the campus and see if anything has changed at good old MIT."
"Sounds like a plan to me, Barry said. "What time do we have to be at the restaurant tonight?"
"Dinner is at 6:30. I arranged for a cab to pick us up at 6:00. Who else is staying here? We can take two more guys in the cab."
"Paul," Barry said, looking very sheepish. "I have something to tell you. Please don't get mad. I did something, but I did it for a very good reason."
"You're scaring me," Paul said. "You'd better talk fast."
"When I got my invitation, I called Jim Mackey to find out where everyone was staying. When he told me where he even said he got us a special rate. Paul, I made our reservation at a different motel."
Paul didn't seem upset. He didn't even care, but he asked, "Why, Barry?"
"I wanted us to be alone. There are so many things I want to tell you ... private things."
"I'm all ears, Barry. You know that you can tell me anything. Start talking."
"Not now. We'll talk when we get back here for the night."
"Listen, Pal. I'm glad you did what you did. There are a few things I want to talk to you about, privately also. In fact, it'll be show and tell. I have some pictures to show you."
They visited the MIT Campus, and then returned to the motel to get ready for dinner that evening.
The reunion dinner was a blast. The joviality and the camaraderie from the fraternity men infected the whole restaurant. Most of the guys wanted to go downtown after dinner to revisit the bars where they used to hang out when they were students. Paul and Barry begged out. They had traveled long distances and pled exhaustion as a reason to turn in. The other guys called them `wusses' and went on their way. Paul and Barry headed back to their motel room.
When they got back to their room, Paul said, "I'm too exhausted to shower now. I'll do it in the morning."
"Ditto," Barry said. He got undressed to his boxers, and said, "But I do have to pee." He headed for the bathroom.
The two men had always slept in boxers during their college days, but Barry handed Paul a surprise. Paul had never seen Barry so buff and muscled. He thought that Barry must work out a lot, and now he was a little apprehensive about exposing his own lightly-muscled body.
When Barry came out of the bathroom, he found Paul sitting at the edge of his bed, smiling at him. Barry looked at Paul quizzically, and asked, "What?"
"You said you wanted to talk," Paul reminded him.
Barry went to the dresser and retrieved his wallet. He removed a frayed photo and showed it to Paul. This is my wife, and my ten-year-old twins, Paul and Paula. I named them after you."
"How did you come to name them after me?" Paul asked, completely puzzled.
"Because I love you, Paul. I have always loved you. It was so hard for me not to come on to you all those years that we slept near naked in the same room."
"But you're married. You're not gay."
"Yes, I'm married, but I'm also gay. I was afraid of living a gay life. The stigma frightened the hell out of me, so I got married. I avoid having sex with my wife as best I can, and I haven't had a happy day in twelve years."
"I don't understand. Why are you coming out to me now?" Paul asked.
"I didn't want either one of us to go to the grave without you knowing how much I love you; how much I want you, how much I've always wanted you. I don't care if you hate me now. I said what I had to say, and I feel good about it."
Barry started to cry, and Paul put his arms around him. "Don't cry," Paul said. "I don't hate you, and I never will."
"You must feel something about what I just admitted to you."
"You're right. I feel damned sorry for you. I'd hate to be in a loveless marriage. I'm married too, and we love each other unconditionally."
"I didn't know you were married," Barry said, expressing shock.
"Why are you so surprised?"
"Because it was my plan to seduce you tonight. Now it's your turn to look surprised."
"That's putting it mildly," Paul said. He retrieved a picture from his suitcase. "Would you like to see a picture of the person I'm married to?" He couldn't wait to see the shock on Barry's face.
Barry looked at the picture and it took a while for it to sink in. Finally, he said, "This is a guy, a very handsome guy. You're married to a man. You're gay. I can't believe it."
"Barry, I'm gayer than you are. It was all I could do to keep from raping you in school. Now here we are, alone, almost naked, and we are aware that we are both gay. Barry, I love Ken very much, but I love you also. It's in a different way, of course."
The two men grabbed each other and started to kiss. This time Paul did not pull away from Barry's erection.
"Please Paul," Barry begged. I've never had sex with a man, and it's all I obsess about. I beg you to have sex with me tonight. I swear I'll never tell your husband."
"No sweat there. Ken gave me permission, and anyway I intend to tell him myself. There's only one problem. I don't want to have sex with you." Barry looked like he had been hit with a sledgehammer. "I want to make love to you. There's a big difference, you know!"
"That's a deal. Make love to me, but lead me through it. Tell me what to do. I want to make you happy also."
"You know that shower we were going to take in the morning. Let's take it now. Together."
They had seen each other naked plenty of times in school, so they didn't waste time checking each other out. They were both cut, about four inches flaccid and seven inches hard. Paul was a bit wider around than Barry. What they hadn't done in school was grab each other. They had no trouble doing that now. They both got the water temperature to their liking, and then Paul led Barry into the shower, holding his cock.
"What now?" Barry asked in all innocence.
"We soap each other all over." Paul took the soap and started to work on Barry's muscled body. Barry was a lot more solid than Ken, and Paul was getting very excited. He began to soap and stroke Barry's cock and balls, and Barry was mewling and purring. Paul inserted a couple of soapy fingers up Barry's ass. Barry became unsteady on his feet. When he looked like he might pass out, Paul handed him the soap and told him to do the same thing to him.
Barry must have paid good attention because he repeated everything precisely as Paul had done it. When Paul was thoroughly aroused, he said, "Let's take this to bed."
They dried themselves and fell onto one of the beds.
"I'm going to teach you how to give excellent head," Paul said, and he proceeded to give Barry an endless trip around the world. He finally zeroed in on Barry's cock and balls. When Paul took Barry into him, Barry came with one long wail. He lay on his back, thoroughly exhausted.
After he recovered, he begged, "Let me do that to you now."
Once again he repeated everything Paul had done to a tee. When the two men were lying side by side in the afterglow, Paul laid his hand on Barry's shrunken cock. "Do you want to fuck?" he asked.
"Absolutely," Barry said.
"Okay then, in a couple of hours after we've recovered. I brought some lube with me."
Barry laughed. "So did I," he said. "I also have a confession to make. I've been fucking myself with a dildo for years. I don't think we'll have any trouble."
Paul laughed, and they dozed off. When they woke up, it was just shy of 3 AM. They hunkered together and began to kiss passionately. Then two things happened. Barry realized that he had never kissed his wife with this much passion, and Paul realized that these kisses lacked the passion that he enjoyed with Ken. Nevertheless, they began to fondle each other, and when they were good and hard, Paul said, "It's time."
They fucked each other in Paul's preferred position, the missionary. They didn't use condoms. Paul was enjoying himself, but he found himself missing Ken. Barry was crying like a faucet. "I'm so happy," he kept repeating. When they were finally satisfied and exhausted, they fell asleep.
They had never closed the blinds and were awakened by a bright morning sun. They smiled at each other, and ran to the bathroom to do their morning things, and shower together once again. They dressed informally. There was plenty of time to dress before the luncheon. Then they went downstairs to the motel dining room for breakfast.
"What are you going to do now?" Paul asked Barry.
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean."
"You're right. Sure I do. I'm going to go right on living as I have been until my kids leave the nest. I don't want to traumatize them. After that, I'll think about divorce. Until then I intend to be very proactive about finding fuck buddies. There must be dozens of guys like me. I'll find some of them. What about you, Paul? You've cheated on Ken."
"I haven't cheated. He gave me permission."
"Will you tell him?"
"Probably. Listen, Barry. We had our chance, and we blew it because of irrational fears. Making love to you last night made me realize how much I love Ken. I can't wait to get home to him, and screw him to the bed."
"I envy you. I wish I had been braver," Barry lamented.
After the luncheon and the lengthy goodbyes, Barry and Paul shared a cab to Logan Airport. Before they separated, they hugged each other tightly, and promised to keep in touch."
"When, or if, I'm ever single," Barry said, "I want to come to visit you, and meet Ken. He sure must be extra special."
"He is," Paul said, and he waved goodbye.
When Ken met Paul at the airport in Chicago, they hugged, and Paul couldn't stop crying. Ken had to wonder what was up with him.
Paul whispered in his ear, "I love you so much," and Ken didn't care what was up with his husband. They loved each other, and that was all that mattered.
In just a few days, Paul was back to his old routines, and the reunion was in the distant past. About a month after he got home, he received an E-Mail from Barry.
Dear Paul:
I have so much to tell you, I don't know where to begin. They always advise the storyteller to begin at the beginning. Good advice.
When my wife Trisha met me at the airport to drive me home, she was very cold to me. She wouldn't even let me kiss her. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me that she would talk to me at home after the kids were put to bed. I had a catastrophic feeling that she had found out about me. She did.
It seems she bought me an early birthday present and wanted to hide it from me until my big day, my thirty-fifth. She never saw me use the drawer in my night table, so she reasoned that would be a good place to hide it. Paul, that's where I hid my practice dildo, and several male porn DVD's. She found them.
Boy, did I get an education when she finally let loose. She told me that I made love to her so rarely, and with such little enthusiasm, that she had had several affairs and the degree of passion she had experienced was obviously worlds apart. She demanded to know if I was gay. I admitted that I was, and she told me to get out of the house at once. I stayed at the Y for a couple of weeks, but I just moved into a lovely one-bedroom apartment very close to work.
The first thing I did after leaving home was to visit gay bars, and I had no trouble scoring. Thanks for educating me. Word is spreading how good I am.
Please, don't let us lose touch again. We are brothers now, and brothers stay in touch. I promise to visit you one day. Do you think Ken would be interested in a three-way? If not, I'll understand.
Your free and exceptionally happy pal, Barry
Barry showed the letter to Ken, who laughed and said, "Sure, why not? I'm secure enough in our love that I know I'll never lose you. When your friend comes, let's show him the best time ever, sightseeing and fucking."