The Lifeguard

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. If you are

offended by graphic descriptions of homosexual acts, go

somewhere else.

Copyright c 2000 by Orrin C. Rush. All rights reserved.

Neither this story nor any parts of it may be distributed

electronically or in any other manner without the express,

written consent of the author.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of the characters

to anyone living or dead is pure coincidence and not

intended. They are all products of the author's imagination.

"Want to tell me about it? I know how upset you are."

I turned to him. "Eric, this is one time I don't want to

share. I don't believe you'd like what I'm thinking."

THE LIFEGUARD

Chapter 25

What hurts the most? Loss of money? Prestige? Love?

Health? Freedom? These were the black thoughts running

through my mind.

An animal, when cornered, turns and fights with everything

he's got. I felt cornered and helpless. I couldn't fight

back. Not yet.

I'd never been vengeful in my life, feeling that "what goes

around, comes around", not requiring any help on my part. It

usually worked out that way, too.

For some reason, this situation was different. It was an

affront, a blow to my stomach delivered through Annie. She

was just a pawn, unfortunately available, and probably having

the time of her life in jail. That didn't matter. Were

these people really targeting me, or was it impersonal and

just what I represented?

Was I being paranoid? Probably, and I would also, in all

likelihood get over this and forget the whole thing.

Eric was watching me nervously. I smiled at him and put my

arm around him. "Off in my own little world," I explained.

"You had me scared."

"Nothing to worry about," I said. "Just a frustrated old

fart who can't stand it when he doesn't get his own way."

We landed and stood in a group, seemingly not knowing what to

do next.

"Let's find a bar and talk this over," I suggested.

It wasn't LaGuardia or Kennedy, but an airport for small,

private planes. The "terminal" had a lunch counter and off

in a corner a little dirty bar. It was deserted and the

bartender was watching the ballgame on TV.

We found a table and ordered.

"Well, we're out of there and don't have to worry about

getting arrested," I said calmly. "This may sound cold, but

realistically, there isn't a hell of a lot we can do for

Annie at the moment. Jim and Dale will keep up the pressure,

and maybe public opinion'll help out. If we try a legal

assault, it'll take more than ten days to even get heard.

I'm afraid she's going to have to serve it out."

I chuckled. "I know my daughter, by now she's probably

running the jail." This got a laugh from everyone, and full

agreement from those who knew her. "She'll have stories to

tell for years."

"I think we should concentrate on the business that got us

into this mess in the first place," I continued. "We should

be hearing soon if all the trucks are rolling. We've got

very competent people to handle everything from here, and I

don't think we're going to be too far behind schedule when

the dust settles."

"What are you going to do about all this?" Greg asked.

"We have plenty of time to take care of that," I said. "What

happens in the next few days will have a big bearing on how

we react later. A lot of people are going to get hurt bad

before this is over, including a lot of people who were

stupid enough to elect the Judge and County Council that they

did."

Plans were made on who would do what. It was also agreed

that nobody would say anything to the press.

Eric and I took a taxi to "our" flat. Ron and Jason went to

LaGuardia to catch the commuter to New Hampshire to retrieve

our plane. The Micron boys headed for their office.

The flat would be our "command post" until Annie was let go.

It was too late for the Network news, but Eric got CNN on the

only TV in the place, in our bedroom. "Headline News"

mentioned the incident and referred to more complete coverage

later on regular CNN. I definitely wanted to see that, and

tape it too. Hopefully, somebody had taped the network news.

Reports started coming in. Bill and Tina had landed in New

York and were on their way in a taxi.

Mike called to report that the trucks were gone and had all

cleared the State line. He was moving up the schedule on

moving the inventory and expected it to all be on it's way,

along with the warehouse racking, in a couple of days. He

planned to dismantle and move the racking last in case

somebody decided it might be "equipment".

Eric was talking with somebody, joking and laughing. I was

confused by this.

"Wanna talk to your daughter?" he asked, handing me his phone.

It was Annie. "Hi Dad," she said, full of good spirits.

"I've got Jim's phone."

"Are you still in the pokey?" I asked.

"It's more like house arrest," she giggled. "Jack and I are

the only ones in here, and we pretty much have run of the

place. He wants to talk to you when I get done. Did you see

the news?"

"No, we missed it, what happened?"

"We watched NBC, and they gave the story a lot of play. They

used words like 'outrage', 'hostage taking' and all sorts of

other stuff. They're definitely on our side, and make me out

to be a martyr. Do you think I'll qualify for Sainthood?"

That's my girl! In control, and her sense of humor intact.

Next, I talked with Jack. He expected to be released in the

morning after paying a stiff fine. "We really got lucky when

we found Jim," he said. "There's not a whole lot he can do,

but he's sure keeping the pressure on them."

I said goodnight to Annie and hung up.

Bill and Tina arrived just as the CNN report was starting,

and we all settled in the bedroom.

The commentator detailed the events of the day, interspersed

with clips from cameras in the courtroom. Then, a panel of

legal experts took over. One commented that the Constitution

was being violated in so many ways that it would take hours

to detail. Another said that if this type of local action

were allowed to stand, American Business should be shivering

in their boots. Enactment of the law in the first place was

a travesty, they agreed, and the locals should repeal it

immediately to cut their losses.

So far, they had concentrated on the issues. It wasn't about

Lundborg Rush or Micron, or even "Big Business". Our names

had been mentioned only once.

Then, after showing a clip of the Judge in action, they

discussed his "making Law" from the bench, and the resulting

arrest of Annie. They likened the dragging of her, in

handcuffs, before the cameras to something a Third World

Terrorist Organization would do. As a group, they appealed

to the Governor to put a stop to this "hostage situation"

immediately.

That was it. At least the Press was on our side. We'd have

to see what happened next.

At least Annie was OK, but I don't think any of us slept very

well.

The morning news was interesting. Legal and Constitutional

experts expounded, and the "man in the street" was

interviewed for the human interest angle on all the morning

shows.

The experts all seemed to agree that what had happened was

unconscionable, a few attributed it to opportunism and greed.

The New Hampshire people interviewed on the street and local

gathering places were a different story. To a man, they fully

supported their elected representatives, and felt that the

"bloodsucking Corporation Slime" were getting what they

deserved, in spite of the overwhelming disapproval of the

country as a whole. A Field Poll, taken earlier, showed

National support for us of more than 71%.

They also mentioned that the Judge could plan on being

re-elected for the rest of his life.

The Governor was silent.

Jack was released and came directly to New York. "I broke

the law, got caught and paid," he said. "Damned glad I did,

too. It was worth every minute of it."

He'd be seeing a fat Christmas bonus, and no doubt, some

appreciation from Micron as well.

No lawsuits had been filed yet, and we all agreed to wait

until the "hostage" situation was over before proceeding.

Jack also wanted to retain some of the most respected

Constitutional experts as well as the best Trial Lawyers to

handle the case.

"If we win a big punitive damages award," he said, "they'll

just declare bankruptcy and thumb their noses at us. We've

gotta find a way to keep that from happening. That's going

to take a lot of research, time, and some pretty sharp

minds. I want every goddam person in that county to pay."

"All I want out of this," I told him, "is our money back, and

the actual amount of our losses. Anything more will go to

charity of some sort. Education may not be a bad idea."

For the time being, it was out of our hands. We'd just have

to wait.

Annie had talked Kevin out of coming to New Hampshire, but he

came to New York to wait with us.

Life - and business goes on. Bill and Jack returned to the

West Coast, and the rest of us tried to keep occupied. Eric

was like a shadow, never leaving my side.

Sarah was everpresent, buoying spirits, and finally talked

Tina into going shopping with her. I gave Tina a credit card

and gave her orders to "max it out". Sarah considered that a

challenge.

Since none of us had planned to be away from home more than a

few days, we were all hurting for clothes, so Eric Kevin and

I did a little shopping ourselves.

It was the first time that we had been around Kevin without

Annie present. He just "fit in", comfortable, funny, just

one of the guys.

"I'd better not get TOO friendly with you guys," he said,

laughing, "or Annie will start wondering about me."

"You'd damn well better be straight if you're going to date my

daughter," I told him.

This opened the subject of sexual preference. Kevin had a

lot of questions, and Eric answered them for him. I listened

proudly as he explained how it wasn't a choice, and how our

relationship involved a whole lot more than sex.

The waiting was getting us all down. Eric started going in

to his office at Micron, I spent hours on the phone with the

office and kept involved in everything that was happening.

Tina and Kevin played tourist.

The media had quickly lost interest in the whole affair, and

there was no movement in New Hampshire. The Judge was mum

even though Jim and Dale were pressuring him on a daily

basis, the Governor was still silent, and nobody else seemed

to care. It was maddening.

Annie was released without fanfare when the ten days were

up. Kevin was there to meet her and whisked her off to the

plane. Eric, Tina and I met them at the airport in New York

and we headed straight home.

Even though she tried to put a brave face on it, I could tell

that her experience had been rough on her. She seemed

cheerful and relieved, but being cooped up like that had done

something to her. Hopefully we'd soon have the "old"

smartass Annie back.

It was a bit hard on my ego, but everything at home had run

smoothly in my absence. What had been a vast empty factory

building was now a beehive of activity with packages of

Software rolling off of a few of the production lines. The

rest of the lines were being fine-tuned and would start

production in a few days. We were actually on schedule in

spite of having had so many roadblocks thrown at us.

The new CPU cases were rolling out of Milton factories and

Joel was ahead of schedule producing monitors.

Everything was going almost too smoothly. Then someone

realized that we had forgotten one item - the Mouse.

The keyboard maker in Taiwan was enlisted to make them, and

was able to use the same resins to make matching "mouses",

both corded and cordless.

Annie went back to work with a vengeance. Many hotel chains

were realizing the advantage of leasing rather than owning

their properties, so were quietly offering them to

investors. She was very choosy, and only picked up those

that could be 100% financed. The 109 hotels that we now

owned represented a debt load of more than $11 billion, but

was self supporting and building reserves against any

possible economic downturn.

Whenever we could, Annie and I kept our Wednesday lunch

"date". This was a Wednesday and we were both free, but it

would have to be short, so we decided on the "food court" of

a shopping mall down the street.

We sat outside in the sunshine. Usually, we talked business,

but today I insisted that we talk about her. We talked about

her "pokey" time, and she admitted that it had traumatized

her more than she recognized at first, but that she was

getting over it. She also confided that she felt Kevin was

getting close to "popping the question", and wanted to know

how I felt about that.

"You know I don't give advice," I told her. "If it's what

YOU want, then I approve, but you'll have to convince me."

"By the way," she said, "Kevin thinks you and Eric are the two

greatest guys around."

"You don't have to convince me yet," I told her laughing.

"Wait'll he asks you. I already like him."

We were getting ready to leave when Annie commented "There's

a guy sitting behind you that's been staring at you for the

last ten minutes."

"Does he look friendly?" I joked.

"Can't tell, but he's sure one gorgeous man."

"What's he look like?"

"About 30, I'd guess, long brown hair, big brown eyes, and

muscles to die for."

"Doesn't ring a bell," I said.

"Well, here he comes."

He approached from the rear, then stepped to one side of me

and pulled out a chair at our table.

"Hiya, Dave. Goin' straight?" he asked, indicating Annie.

"That's my daughter Annie, Tom," I said coldly.

"Oh yeah, the jailbird," he sneered. "Hear you got a new

boyfiend, Dave. Good thing they got Viagara these days."

Annie, abashed, started to rise. I followed her lead.

"Have a nice life, Tom," I said as we walked away. No way

was I going to give that prick the satisfaction of getting

into a pissing contest with him.

When we were far enough away that he couldn't hear us, Annie

asked "Who the hell was that?"

"Believe it or not, that's my first lover," I told her, my

voice shaking.

She didn't say another word until we were back at the office,

and followed me into mine, closing the door behind her.

She walked up and gave me a hug. "I don't know what's going

on, but you look like you've seen a ghost."

"Worse," I said. "Tommy."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I didn't think the sonofabitch could still affect me like

this," I told her.

"He must have really hurt you."

"Yes, he did, but it was worse than that, he used me, and

even worse than THAT, I allowed it. I thought I was beyond

hating him, but I guess I'm not."

"You've mentioned him, but never talked about him."

"I know," I said. "Actually, I've never told anybody the

whole story."

"Do you think it'd help if you did?"

"It's hard to admit that you've been so damn stupid," I said

sheepishly. "I thought I'd dealt with the whole mess, but he

can still push my buttons. The age thing is still a very

tender subject."

"Have you told Eric about him?"

"NO! Only that he existed, past tense. I don't want Eric's

pity or sympathy."

"You'd never get that from him," she assured me.

"I just don't think he needs to know all the sordid details."

"I'm different from you," she declared. "I DO give advice.

I think you ought to talk this over with someone. For your

own good. I care, goddamit!"

"I know," I told her sincerely. "I'll think about it."

"I'll hound you," she promised, giving me another hug.

I dropped into a chair, feeling like I'd just fought 10

rounds and lost them all. Maybe talking to a third person

would help, a professional who'd keep his mouth shut, for

sure.

I'd never gone over the whole story, even in my own mind.

I had just bought the house. It was the first one I'd ever

picked out myself, and even though I was single and alone, it

had everything I wanted - and more. 10,000 square feet of

living space, all on one level, and just about every amenity

known to man. It was situated on a bluff overlooking the

ocean, and the way the house was laid out, almost every room

had a view of the coast.

I worked closely with the Interior Designer on just about

everything, and even though we'd been at it for months, it

was a slow process. The basics, painting, wallpapering and

carpets were complete, but furniture was still arriving.

The kitchen was about the only room in the house that was

finished.

I'd hired Mary and Sam. Mary spent most of her time

outfitting the kitchen, and Sam took care of the landscaping

which was undergoing change as well. Overall, it was chaos,

and even though I was sleeping there, it was more like

camping out.

Tired after a long day at the office, I stopped at the liquor

store on my way home. Pulling in just ahead of me was a

station wagon full of young guys. As I parked, they were

getting out. Looked like a bunch of college kids. The

driver, however, caught my eye. Dark hair, sultry good looks

and an exceptional body. Dark glasses hid his eyes, but

there was still a lot to look at and drool over.

I followed the three of them in, my eyes rarely off of the

dark haired beauty. The other two headed in one direction,

"my" guy in another. I followed him at a discreet distance,

marveling at his grace and the exciting movement of his tight

butt as he walked. I was mesmerized.

He stopped at a cooler, looking at the imported beers. I

walked on past, exchanging a smile with this awesome

specimen. That did it. On an impulse, I took out one of my

cards, walked back and handed it to him. He looked at it,

smiled, and put it in his pocket. Not a word was spoken.

I panicked, and made my way out of the store as fast as I

could without running, scared to death that he might follow.

I had to stop at another liquor store to get what I needed.

At home, I thought about what I'd done. Something like that

was totally out of character. Never in my life had I ever

been that impetuous. The card I'd given him was a calling

card and had only my name and home phone number on it, no

address, no company name.

I didn't really regret my action, but didn't have any idea

what I'd do if he ever did actually call. What would I

say? Oh well, I'll never hear from him, I thought. He was

just so damned gorgeous!

A few days passed. Nothing happened, so I forgot about the

incident. He did remain a great jack off fantasy, however.

Then one night the phone rang.

"Hi, this is Tom. Remember me?"

"Tom who?" I asked, racking my brain.

"The one at the liquor store," he explained. "Sorry to be so

slow in calling you, but I've been on a camping trip."

"Oh," was about all I could muster.

"I take it you didn't expect me to call," he said.

"I'm surprised, " I admitted.

"How'd you know?"

"Know what?"

"That I like 'older' men."

"Hell, I didn't even know if you liked men at all," I said.

"I took a chance."

"Well, where do we go from here?"

"I don't know. I'm kind of new at this," I told him

truthfully.

"I figured that," he giggled. "You ran like a scared rabbit

before I could say anything. Let's get together and get

acquainted. Do you cook?"

"A little," I told him. "I'm just moving in, so how about I

take you out somewhere?"

"OK, tomorrow night?"

We agreed on that. His car was in the shop so I agreed to

pick him up.

He had taken me completely by surprise. I really didn't know

what to do or what to expect. I decided that that didn't

matter, I'd just play it by ear.

He was leaning against the low wall in front of the apartment

complex when I drove up. His hips were thrust slightly

forward emphasizing the bulge there. Naturally that's where

my eyes focused.

He jumped up and climbed into the car.

"Hi," he said, extending his hand for a shake. "I'm Tom and

I guess you're Dave?"

"That's me," I grinned, shaking his hand and gazing into the

most incredible brown eyes I'd ever seen.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

I wanted to say "home to bed", but instead told him about my

favorite Italian restaurant. He was agreeable.

Other than that, I was tongue-tied. He kept the conversation

flowing, however.

"Just moving in, huh?" he asked. "Wife throw you out?"

"That happened almost two years ago. I'm just getting around

to getting my own place."

"Do you like being on your own?"

"I enjoy the freedom. And the privacy," I said.

"I'll bet! A different guy every night!"

"Not quite," I chuckled.

Over dinner, the innuendo stopped, and Tom told me his life

story, edited, I was to learn later.

His family lived just outside Washington D.C. in Chevy Chase,

Maryland. He was attending Princeton, and had a year to go

for his master's degree in International Finance.

He'd come West for the Summer Olympics which had ended a few

weeks earlier and was visiting his Grandmother here in town.

His father worked for the State Department, and he'd spent

most of his life outside the U.S. That explained his

worldliness.

His self confidence was apparent and he was a fascinating,

interesting conversationalist. I listened mostly, studying

him as he spoke. He was a feast for the eyes. A wide brow,

a perfect nose, a strong chin, but his eyes were the best

part. Deep, expressive pools that glinted impishly. I was

hooked.

He didn't ask many questions about me, and I didn't volunteer

a lot.

On the way back to his Grandmother's, his hand was on my

thigh, giving me a squeeze occasionally to emphasize

something he said. By that time, I wasn't paying much

attention, my hard dick was doing all the thinking.

"I'd ask you in, but Granny's kind of old fashioned," he

said. "She knows I'm gay, but I think dragging a man home

with me would be going too far."

"Can we do this again?" he continued as I parked.

"I'd love to."

"Tomorrow night it's my turn. I'll take you to my favorite

place. Pick me up at the same time?"

I hastily agreed.

He reached over, gave me a lingering kiss, patted my bulging

crotch, and got out.

"We'll get to that," he assured me.

Our second "date" was more relaxed, for me at least. He

directed the conversation in my direction, and I found myself

giving him more information about me than I had intended. He

made it so easy for me.

I told him that I "worked for" Metalco, not that I owned it.

I told him about my kids and the bitch I'd been married to.

When I admitted that I'd only been "out" about a year, and,

so far hadn't had anything more than "encounters", he

announced that he was going to become my first "serious

boyfriend".

That shook me. The best I'd been hoping for was a night in

the sack with him, not marriage for chrissakes! I wasn't sure

I was ready for that!

"Did I scare you?" he asked, chuckling. "When I see

something I want, I go after it."

"You get right to the point, don't you."

"No point in fucking around," he said. "No guts no glory.

Are you going to invite me to spend the weekend with you?"

"The place is still a disaster area," I warned.

"You have a bed, don't you?"

"Yes."

"That's all we need," he giggled.

I picked him up on my way home Friday night. We stopped for

a bite to eat on the way. When we drove through the gates,

his eyes widened. "I didn't expect this!" he said.

Once inside, he insisted on the "grand tour".

"You live here alone?" he asked incredulously.

"Just me," I told him.

Out by the pool, he told me that he would love to use it, but

hadn't brought a suit.

"No problem," I leered. "We have the place all to ourselves

for the whole weekend."

He dropped his gym bag in the bedroom and we went back out to

my "den" where there were some chairs. I got him a beer and

myself a drink. He was standing in front of the window and I

walked up to stand beside him. He was a couple of inches

shorter than me, and turned his face up to be kissed.

It was electric. My knees turned to jelly.

"Wow, you're good," he gasped when we broke for air. "Just

like I expected."

This kid knew how to push my buttons. Yes, he was a kid by

comparison. 22 to my 38.

We kissed again, harder, longer, more urgently. "I can't

stand up much longer," I told him.

"Follow me," he said, taking my hand and leading me to the

bedroom. We dropped on the bed and continued where we'd left

off. I was in pain. My dick was bent downward, and as hard

as it was, hurt like hell. I could feel that he was as hard

as I was, but he was pointed upward.

"Need a little relief?" he asked. Before I could answer, he

had his hand under my waistband and was gently moving me

around. His warm hands felt so good I almost shot from the

feel of him.

After repositioning me, he kicked off his shoes and stood

up. I watched, with my mouth hanging open, no doubt, as he

did a strip. He had a gorgeous body, he knew it, and

obviously liked to show it off.

His pullover shirt crept up, showing his rock hard abs, a

thin line of dark hair running down the center. Further up

it went, exposing rounded, defined pecs accented by

half-dollar sized nipples. Up and off the shirt came.

He turned around, displaying the taper from his broad

shoulders to his narrow waist. His jeans slid down, inch by

inch bringing an incredible, hard butt into view, still

covered by tight jockeys. These too slid down, two dimpled,

hairless cheeks now uncovered. I was salivating.

He turned slowly, grinning, I think, but I was more

interested in the prize that rose from his trimmed pubic

patch. I wasn't disappointed. Long, slightly curved,

circumcised, and gleaming.

"You like?" he asked, striking a pose.

All I could do was gurgle. I was speechless.

"I'll take that as a yes," he laughed.

He pulled me to my feet, and started stripping me, not just

removing my clothes but touching, rubbing and licking as he

went. When my cock was freed, he gently stroked it, then

dropped to his knees and took just the head in his mouth.

I couldn't stand up any longer and drug him to the bed with

me as I collapsed.

He went after my body like he was starving. Licking,

sucking, running his hands over my skin with a feathery

touch. I had to stop him if this was going to last much

longer.

It was my turn. I took my time and enjoyed him. Progress was

slow but I didn't stop. Taking him into my mouth, I brought

him to a shattering climax. As soon as he was capable, he

finished me off.

By Sunday afternoon, we had made love so many times, I felt

like I'd been run over by a truck. I smiled a lot

nevertheless.

From sucking we'd quickly graduated to fucking. I loved how

he felt inside of me, but I only got to enjoy that once. The

rest of the time, I was satisfying his seemingly endless

appetite for me inside him. It being the mid 80's, using

condoms was mandatory.

I was in love, I thought. Actually, it was more lust than I

recognized at the time. I couldn't get enough of him, and he

was more than willing.

He told me he loved me, and from his actions, I had no reason

to doubt him.

I was in heaven. My first serious boyfriend, and a young,

gorgeous one at that. My wildest fantasies had come to life.

When he told me that he'd only be in town another week

because school was starting, I was shattered. I couldn't

stand the thought of being away from him. I begged him to

spend every night with me until he left.

Before they had gone to work for me, I had told Mary and Sam

that I was gay. Mary admitted that she had already figured

that out, but was glad I'd been upfront with them. They had

no problems with it.

After Tom's weekend with me, it was pretty obvious that I'd

had "company". Mary noticed immediately, and only asked if

it had been somebody "important".

"I hope so," I admitted. That's all that was said.

Tom spent the next five nights with me, and when he left on

Saturday, I was devastated. He promised to call as often as

he could, and to come see me whenever he could.

All sorts of other promises were made by both of us, with

more "I love you's" than I could count.

For the next week, I alternated between elation and despair.

I thought about him virtually every minute I was awake. We

talked every night for hours, buoying my spirits, but reality

set in when I crawled in bed alone. I lasted a whole week

before I was on a plane east.

It seemed like we had been apart for months rather than days,

and we spent the whole weekend in my hotel room making love

and promises to each other.

Feeling much better and more secure in the knowledge that he

loved me as much as I loved him, I returned West.

My euphoria didn't go unnoticed. I got a lot of kidding at

the office, which I handled rather well, I thought. Most

thought I'd found a girlfriend, and I let them believe

whatever they wanted.

Tom's birthday was coming up, and I went to the mall to find

something for him. Passing a bookstore, I saw that they were

selling programs from the Summer Olympics. Since Sports was

his interest, I bought a copy.

When I got home, I skimmed through the program. Sports

wasn't my particular cup of tea, but I decided to become a

little more knowledgeable. I wasn't looking for anything in

particular, but somehow, looking at one of the field events,

I saw Tommy's name. It just loomed up from the page.

That night when we talked, after getting the "I love you's"

and "I miss you's" out of the way, I told him "I stopped in a

bookstore today. They had Olympic programs and I bought one."

"Oh shit!" was his response.

"When you told me you went to the Olympics, you kinda left

out the part about being IN them."

"I only finished fourth, no medal, no big deal," he answered.

"Just being a participant is a helluva big deal!"

"I'm sorry, I just didn't think it was important. By the

way, you didn't tell me that you OWNED Metalco, either! Were

you afraid I was a gold digger?"

"I didn't know," I admitted.

"Are you still worried?"

"Tommy," I said, "I don't care what you are. I love you with

all my heart."

"Just for the record, I'm not a gold digger!" he said. "And

I love you more than you think, too."

We developed a pattern. One month I'd fly East to spend the

weekend with him, the next month he'd fly West and spend the

weekend with me. How he managed to maintain his B average is

a mystery.

Around Christmas, he got an invitation to pose for a famous

photographer who'd seen him at the Olympics. "No porn," I

begged him.

"No way, baby," he said. "You're the only one who gets to

see my dick."

This "shoot" produced some posters, which sold out as fast as

they could print them. Mostly to gay men, I would assume.

Soon after, he heard from a Modeling agency, wanting to

represent him and promising him the moon.

That led to several TV commercials, and then the big break, a

major Magazine cover. His face was known around the world

before he graduated.

He was in demand, getting more assignments than he could

handle. The jobs were in New York, so, naturally, that's

where he moved.

His really big break happened soon after. A major clothing

designer offered him a three year exclusive contract for over

a million dollars a year.

He jumped at it.

Tommy, as I now affectionately called him, loved the

attention. He was as much in demand socially as he was on

the runway. His pictures were splashed all over the

tabloids, taken at this or that party on the arm of some

simpering debutante.

I didn't mind that. It was the MEN that worried me! A month

or two into our relationship we'd agreed that if either one

of us "strayed" the other one didn't want to know about it.

I hardly noticed other guys, but I didn't know about Tommy,

and I was afraid to find out.

I continued to come to New York once a month, and Tommy came

West the next. The wonderful difference was that now,

instead of two days together, we could stretch it out,

sometimes to a full week.

He did a lot of "Location" shoots all over the world. Even

though I was invited, I had too much pride to be a camp

follower.

This continued, and when his contract came up for renewal, he

was offered another year, which he grabbed. We continued the

bi-coastal relationship.

In the beginning, I hadn't even looked at other men, but in

our fourth year of commuting, I started noticing that others

did exist, and some really attractive ones at that. Having

sex once a month, even if it was at least several days of

non-stop lovemaking, just wasn't enough.

I started taking advantage of some of the opportunities that

arose, then, once I got over the guilt trip, started seeking

them out. In a short time, I developed a "stable" of

regulars. They were all young men, some extremely

goodlooking, some very average, who enjoyed a nice dinner out

or a weekend by the pool, and good sex with no strings

attached. There was no emotional involvement. It was fun

for the sake of fun.

One thing that surprised me was their specialization. A

couple of them liked to suck dick. That's all. They weren't

interested in reciprocation. Others were strictly oral, but

enjoyed a two-way street. Then there were the anal boys.

Tops or bottoms exclusively. Since Tommy required that I be

a "top" all the time, I wasn't interested in bottoms, only

tops.

This was a great setup for release, but didn't provide much

in the way of satisfaction. It felt good, sure, but after

I'd reached orgasm, I felt like yelling out "next".

I rationalized that these encounters were harmless, providing

me with physical relief when I needed it. When I was horny,

I'd get on the phone and have someone there in a matter of

minutes. I also knew that my "boys" were by no means

devoting all their attention to me, so nothing but absolutely

safe sex was practiced.

Tommy's contract was up for renewal again, but no offer was

forthcoming. He literally begged, but they wanted a "new

face".

For more than six months, his agency did their best to find

something for him, but he suffered from overexposure in his

last job. Nobody major would touch him, and the piddling

offers that did come in were refused with a sneer.

I knew what a tremendous blow this was to his ego, which had,

quite frankly, ballooned. He crashed.

Before he could get too hooked on the booze and drugs that

helped him cope, I bundled him up and moved him to the West

Coast with me. I lavished affection on him, reassured him,

and rebuilt his confidence.

Financially, he didn't have to worry. He'd turned all his

earnings over to his father who had invested wisely, and he

was now set for life. That, however, was no replacement for

the excitement, glamour and adoration that came with being

one of the world's top models.

For almost a year, he isolated himself from the outside

world. No drugs, only social drinking, and still the fitness

regimen that kept him in perfect shape, but he rarely

ventured from home.

Our sex life was nonexistant. He just wasn't interested.

Maybe once a month, he'd get amorous, but even then he was

indifferent.

A few months of this, and I was climbing the walls, but

nevertheless suffered in silence - without. It didn't matter

because I loved him so much.

I still don't know what brought about the change, but almost

overnight he changed from asexual to a sexual athlete.

Olympic class. At first I was overjoyed. I did everything I

could to please him. It didn't take long to notice that his

satisfaction was all that counted. Mine wasn't considered,

and I began to really resent that. All he wanted was to be

fucked, an itch that needed scratching at least daily if not

several times every day. When he reached orgasm, it was

over, regardless of my condition.

It wasn't long before my resentment built to the point where I

couldn't achieve an erection, much less satisfy his huge

appetite.

This caused even more problems. When I couldn't "get it up"

he teased me about getting too old. The teasing turned into

derision, and it became impossible for me to even contemplate

"servicing" him.

Our general attitude toward one another turned to apathy, and

he moved into another bedroom.

He also started going out. Occasionally, at first, then he'd

be gone overnight. It was pretty obvious to me that since I

couldn't or wouldn't satisfy him, he was looking elsewhere.

He also became totally arrogant toward me, acting like he was

doing me a favor whenever he deigned to spend some time with

me. The flip of his head, which I had always considered cute

and endearing, became a symbol of his arrogance, and made me

want to punch him.

The love that we had once shared no longer existed, and, from

my standpoint was rapidly becoming dislike bordering on

hate. He insulted me at every opportunity with remarks about

my being "too old" or "over the hill", things a 46 year old

man certainly didn't want to hear.

It all came to a climax when I came home early one evening,

and found him in my bed having his ass pounded by what looked

like a college football player.

As calmly as I could, I ordered them both to leave. The hulk

pulled on pants and ran. Tommy, however, refused to even

move from his "legs up" position until I threatened to call

my Company Security to come throw him out.

For the first time since I'd moved in, the gates were closed

and locked that night.

The next day, he arrived with a U-Haul and removed all his

possessions. I had not seen him since.

I went into mourning. My self confidence was non-existant,

and I had no sense of self-worth. I mourned the loss of what

I believed was the great love of my life. What had I done

wrong? I beat myself unmercifully and dissolved in self-pity.

I realized that I had totally ignored all my friends for

almost seven years and didn't have the nerve to call on any

of them, but after a few months of this self flagellation,

they came to my rescue.

Dan was the first to call, inviting me to join him for "happy

hour". I jumped at the opportunity.

Tommy's name was never mentioned. We talked about everything

but him. After a few drinks and tons of food, I felt so much

better I wanted to hug and kiss him. This became a Friday

afternoon ritual, with some of our mutual friends joining us.

Eventually, I even got up enough nerve to make eye contact

with some of the attractive men that were all around us.

Nothing came of this because I still didn't feel sufficiently

confident to make a move.

It's amazing how a lack of self confidence shows through,

almost in billboard proportions. I didn't have it, and it

sure showed.

I resigned myself to this life of limbo. I'd probably never

find another man to love. I was too old, and even if I did

find one, I probably wouldn't be able to get it up. It was

over. Maybe a "massage" occasionally, or a "model" when I

was out of town.

Then Eric came into my life. Just thinking about him brought

tears of gratitude to my eyes. Eric gave where Tommy had

taken. I gave, too, but this time it wasn't one sided.

It hadn't taken the run in with Tommy to make me realize how

fortunate I was. I already knew that, but this had brought

so much into sharper focus.

The question now was, should I discuss this with Eric?

To be continued.

Author's Note: The State of New Hampshire was chosen at

random as the setting for this part of the story and is not

meant, in any way, to denigrate the citizens of that fine

State. It could have been anywhere!

I appreciate hearing your comments on the story, my writing,

and anything you would like to offer - good or not so good.

Send me a message at orrinrush@yahoo.com if you would like to

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