THREE
Several weeks later, Mason's phone rang in the middle of a Saturday brunch he was hosting for the community association. The Malibu homeowner's association to which he belonged had a monthly party to celebrate their exclusivity from the rest of the plebian world, and these folks were not ashamed to show off their best jewels on such occasions. When Mason had an opportunity to return the call, Ross explained that he had quite a story to tell from the latest adventure in his professional duties at an academic conference in Mexico City.
The adventure began long before the conference; Ross and TMGM had been enjoying an amazing sexual romp for several weeks at Ross's condo in Atlanta, and had spent nearly every moment together, visiting art museums and galleries, especially looking for TMGM's favorite art genre in the Robert Rauschenberg style. They had enjoyed opera, ballet, symphonies, clubs, and tons of sex. "Probably the best sex of my life" Ross bragged, and admitted that he had been bottoming for TMGM more than he had been topping.
The flight to Miami from Atlanta in first class was nearly empty, with only Ross and an elderly couple, and an overly-attentive flight attendant. The flight attendant soon sat next to Ross in the empty aisle seat in the first row, and asked if there was anything he could do; "anything at all" he whispered, placing his hand on Ross's thigh. They soon ended up in the first class lavatory, where the flight attendant seated himself and immediately took Ross's cock in his mouth and gave him a first class blowjob. Leaving the lavatory, the door bumped into the co-pilot, who was waiting in the aisle-way to use the lavatory, and the knowing look on his face told Ross they had been caught.
Soon after re-seating themselves in first class, the co-pilot joined them, with Ross on the aisle seat to the left and the flight attendant opposite him in the corresponding aisle seat, and the co-pilot to the flight attendant's right, when he opened the attendant's pants and began jacking him off quietly and slowly. The flight attendant responded by sliding down in the seat, and soon came all over the co-pilot's hand. He hurried to the lavatory to get cleaned up. Ross immediately replaced him in that seat, and the co-pilot opened his own pants and Ross began jacking him off. He soon came; he was an oozer not a shooter, and the cum ran down Ross's hand, so the co-pilot quickly took Ross's hand and began licking off all of his own cum. The elderly couple in the last row never woke from their nap.
The Miami-to-Mexico City flight was a lot less exciting, because first class filled up; the flight attendant kept looking toward Ross and smiling and sighing. When they deplaned in Mexico City, the co-pilot handed his business card to Ross, and asked for Ross's card in return.
Checking in at the main desk at the Camino Real Hotel in the center of the business district in the city, where the conference on international business finance was being held, Ross felt as though he was being undressed by every pair of eyes that connected with him. The front desk manager paid special attention to Ross, calling the bell captain to assist Ross to his room. The bell captain explained that the special elevator to the penthouse floor was a little complicated and required a code to use; he stepped into the elevator with Ross, and punched in the code, and soon they were zooming to the top of the hotel.
On the way up, they exchanged looks, then they exchanged a quick kiss, and then they exchanged a quick feel of crotches, and then they began rubbing each other in earnest. The elevator ride was all too quick, and when the bell captain opened the room door and dropped the luggage to one side and Ross flung his briefcase on the sofa, it was a mere minute before they were together on the bed sucking two very hard cocks. The bell captain came first, no surprise since the flight incident, but soldiered onward to sucking the life out of Ross through his cock. He soon came and they laughed and hugged and the bell captain made his exit, and Ross lay in the bed for a short nap.
The nap was probably less than an hour when a tap at the door brought Ross back awake. It was the front desk manager, who explained he wanted to be personally responsible for Ross's every need. The emphasis on "every" was obvious, and soon Ross found himself deeply inside the desk manager's ass, como perro, with the manager moaning loudly into the pillows on the bed and obviously enjoying the fucking he was getting from his American guest.
When the front desk manager exited after cleaning himself, Ross was wondering what kind of a weekend he had stumbled into; this was supposed to be a conference on international business finance protocols, and his own presentation the next morning on ethics in financial disclosures was supposed to be the final session of the morning half of the day. Perhaps the serious academic side of the weekend would soon assert itself, and he would be back to normal, he thought, and was about half way through his second hour of preparations when another tap at the door dispelled that notion.
The room service waiter held a tray of fruit, bottled water, champagne, and crackers and cheese and cookies, and explained that the front desk manager wanted to make sure Ross was very comfortable. Ross directed the young man to set the tray on the dining table in the sitting room, and when that task had been completed, the waiter turned slowly toward Ross and smiled and did not make a move toward the door but stood there smiling expectantly. At first Ross assumed he was waiting for a tip, but when he held out a twenty-dollar bill, the waiter smiled even more and took Ross's hand and pressed it to his crotch.
"Here we go again", Ross thought, and felt he had signed up for a record-breaking weekend rather than a conference. He took the waiter to the bedroom, and the waiter was quickly shedding his uniform on the way; by the time he was on the bed with his ass in the air, the waiter clearly did not need to tell Ross what was going to happen next. By the sounds the waiter was making, he had cum far in advance of Ross, and the wet blotch on the bedspread was evidence that this young man had been saving up a load of cum for this moment.
As the waiter left, Ross was wondering if he was going to get any rest at all, thinking perhaps if he went to the lobby bar and had a drink, he might be able to calm down and then get some sleep. He was seated at the lobby bar, so when his cell phone rang it was a little startling, especially since the number was not one he recognized.
It was the co-pilot; he reminded Ross of their meeting on the flight, asking if Ross could perhaps spend some time with him. Ross explained where he was, and it turned out the co-pilot was down the block at another hotel and offered to walk up the street and join Ross for a late-night drink.
In about twenty minutes, the co-pilot was seated next to Ross and smiling nervously, and so as soon as he had finished his drink, Ross threw a twenty on the bar and took the co-pilot by the hand and led him to the private elevator to the penthouse floor. Ross noticed, but ignored, the smiles and attention from the front desk staff; this was all getting bizarre, he thought.
In the elevator, the co-pilot turned toward Ross and kissed him lightly on the cheek, and Ross returned the kiss fully on his lips and passionately ground into his crotch. The co-pilot was shaking with anticipation and whispered into Ross's ear "I've never done this", and Ross just smiled and kissed him again.
When they reached the room, the co-pilot was still shaking nervously, and Ross gently steered him into the bedroom and slowly began undressing him. He took an extra-long time doing so, to ramp up the anticipation and to also assure him who was in control. By the time Ross opened the pilot's pants, his shirt had been tossed to one side and he shook as his pants were pushed to the floor, revealing his black Armani skin-tight boxer briefs and a very hard and dripping cock. Kneeling in front of him, Ross took the cock through the fabric with his teeth, and sawed up and down lightly on the hardness, and the moaning it produced from the pilot was palpable; he wondered if the staff could hear them out in the hallway.
He pushed the man onto the bed on his back, crawled up on the bed, and knelt over him, more to confuse him than to reassure him, and rubbed his own ass up and down on the man's hardness with the fabric of the shorts separating them. Ross pulled the shorts down, and then after flinging them to the side, pulled his legs apart and slowly crawled back up to crotch-level, taking the hard cock into his mouth and sucking slowly and dramatically on it. None of this was reassuring to the pilot, who, having been drawn into this sexual trap by his own lust and longing could only plunge forward since the trap which he had willingly entered had already been sprung. He knew that he was not getting out of this room until there had been at least one orgasm; he simply did not know whose, or how it was going to occur.
But Ross knew; being in complete control of another man's sexual response was the most titillating thing to occur in his life, and he could not wait to drag this victim through the gauntlet. Sucking on the fat cock, slurping loudly and enjoying the taste of pre-cum and then taking both balls into his mouth, then stabbing a finger tip into the nervous ass hole, followed by another finger tip, he realized the man probably was almost ready to succumb to being ass-fucked for the very first time, so he changed strategy. He grabbed some lube and dramatically stroked the man's throbbing cock, lubing him generously, and the facial expression rewarded Ross with a look of bewilderment. He mounted the man's waiting cock and continued searching inside the co-pilot's ass with his two fingers, and the confusion the man experienced became even more pronounced.
Suddenly dismounting, Ross pushed both fingers to the hilt into the ass, pumping back and forth as if this was the real fuck; he stroked the cock again, drawing out even more pre-cum and more moaning. Ross grabbed two pillows from the floor which had been knocked aside and pushing them under the nervous ass of his victim, placed himself between his legs and without announcement or grace, began inserting his own now-lubed cock into the pilot. He was sure there was pain, and he was equally sure the pain would subside very quickly and would burn into the man's memory, to be kept there and re-visited every time he had another cock in him. Your first is always your first and can never be replaced.
It was not graceful, but it was purposeful; this was a fuck to set a pace and make a statement and burn a template for this pilot who had willingly jumped into the cage of the tiger, who had begged for it, and Ross was very willing to oblige. Ross fucked him, he did not make love to him, and then in the middle of it, when Ross felt himself on the edge of cumming and knew there would be a gush of cum into this willing ass, he pulled out unceremoniously and straddled the cock above him and rammed himself down on it, impaling himself with the pilot's hard cock. He just as unceremoniously fucked that hard cock up and down until it was clear the pilot had passed any form of self-control and was cumming like a fountain, and Ross was filled with the steaming product of his labor, and immediately pulled himself off the cock and re-inserted himself into the pilot's ass and finished fucking him, cumming and cumming and cumming. The bewilderment was accomplished, and the control which had been forced on the pilot was complete as well. He would never forget this moment.
Falling asleep, Ross began wondering why he had done that; clearly, fucking a man, any man, was an easy thing to do, and with a partner as willing and lustful as this nervous tiger was, it was no challenge, yet why had he done that little pas-de-deux with fucking and getting fucked and then fucking some more?
And then he remembered: Daniel. His first. It was exactly the same, and here some two decades later, he was replicating exactly the way Daniel had first fucked Ross. Ross had passed the location where it happened not more than once or twice year, and yet he could still remember even today, the exact setting. He even knew where Daniel was today and what he was doing with his life; Ross knew about his wife and two children, and how Daniel had been forced to follow his father in the church he had founded. He still remembered the way he had felt that very first time Daniel's cock had been inside of him, and then how he himself had felt with his cock inside of Daniel. You never forget your first.
The morning conference session came way too early; the eager room- service waiter was at his door early with coffee and Danish, and this time Ross ignored his solicitation for more sex; instead he asked the waiter what time he got off work and invited him to come back to his room at that time. He showered and dressed and headed for the third-floor auditorium; stepping inside the vast room he realized he was late. The introductions were being made, and he soon heard his own name announced as the final presentation of the morning session.
During the first coffee break, still standing near the rear door, he was tapped on the arm gently by the room-service waiter who asked him to step into the hallway. There a very well-dressed man introduced himself as the general manager of the hotel, who wanted to reassure Ross that his comfort at the hotel was his personal mission for the weekend. He might drop by Ross's room later, he said, just to make sure everything was comfortable. This was getting to be way too regular, Ross thought.
Before the end of the coffee break, Ross was approached by the conference manager who had been making announcements and introductions and was asked if he felt comfortable switching his presentation to the first session following lunch, rather than at the end of this morning session. He was assured that the second presentation which Ross was scheduled to make, on Saturday at the end of the morning session would remain the same, and he was free after that presentation. Ross agreed, and they shook hands; the conference manager looked directly into Ross's eyes and thanked him profusely, holding his hand the entire time.
The conference manager returned to the podium and announced the session schedule for the conference for the next two days, including the switch in the presentation to be made by Ross. He also announced a special private luncheon for conference presenters in the hotel general manager's conference room on the fifth floor. The sessions dragged on through the morning, and the luncheon was announced, and the presenters were escorted up the two flights of stairs from the third floor. It seemed rather strange to have so much security lurking about, but as it turned out, the Deputy Assistant Minister of the national Treasury Department was a guest at lunch and greeted each of the presenters as they entered. When he spoke to Ross, and shook hands with him, he lingered a little longer than was normal protocol for a political function; they stared into each other's eyes, and the feeling was strange and warm. After lunch, a waiter slipped a folded card into Ross's hand; it unfolded to reveal only "Rm. 1021".
Developing a presentation on ethics and protocols for international financial transactions was for Ross a simple task; concentrating on his presentation and power-point slides during the presentation after a couple days of almost non-stop sex and now this new mysterious message, was challenging. Finally working through the twenty-minute question-and-answer session, Ross was relieved to come to the final slide which displayed his contact information at his office in Atlanta, and then was horrified to realize it also contained his cell phone number. He decided he needed to slip away to the lobby bar for a vodka tonic and then upstairs for a nap.
In the private elevator ascending toward his penthouse-level room, he passed level 21 and realized he did not know what time he was expected in "Rm. 1021" nor who the person was. He arrived at his room, dropped off his briefcase and presentation materials, and went back to the elevator and straight to Room 1021. He was greeted at the door by none other than the Deputy Assistant Minister of the national Treasury Department. He was invited into the room, handed an ice-cold vodka tonic, and ushered to a very comfortable sofa facing the corner bank of windows.
The Deputy Assistant Minister sat next to Ross and suggested that he had several personal issues he wished to be able to discuss with Ross, and that discussion might be better if it was away from the capitol, say in one of the smaller and lesser-known resorts such as Playa Escondida, at the minister's expense, of course. He needed to find a way to shelter some external income so that no questions were asked of him in the course of his work as Deputy Assistant Minister, since his function was to regulate the banks and financial services firms.
Ross agreed, finished his vodka, and turned to stand and exit the room, when the minister said "There is just one more thing." He reached forward and very gently touched the fly on Ross's suit pants, drawing the zipper down slowly, and reached inside and stroking the cock hiding there. For all of his professionalism, savoire faire, experience, and sexual prowess, Ross actually gasped. Here was one of the most powerful men in Mexico, one of the most powerful men in the Mexican government, who had just revealed himself in a way no one else outside of the government was ever allowed to know. He pushed Ross back against the cushions and pillows on the sofa, finished opening his pants, and withdrew the cock of which Ross was so proud, and took it into his mouth.
The Deputy Assistant Minister of the national treasury of The Republic of Mexico was an expert cock sucker. Within a few minutes, Ross's cock was throbbing, pumping cum into the minister's mouth, and the sweat under his suit was testament to the minister's effect on him. The minister finished, cleared his throat, took a glass of water from the table, and said "Perhaps when we meet at Playa Escondida we can have more time to explore our mutual interests?"
Ross could only nod, stumbling out of the door and back to his room.
It was late in the day, well past time for the closing session of the conference, and Ross was in the executive dining room of the hotel, wondering if he should go out on the town for the evening, when the hotel general manager approached his table. He asked if he may be seated and then asked if Ross had any plans for the evening, and when he admitted that he had just been thinking about that topic, the general manager immediately offered to escort Ross around to some of the famous clubs in the city center. They agreed to meet at the front lobby of the hotel at 10 PM, and Ross returned to his room to get ready. At 10 PM, a limousine was waiting with a door opened and beckoning to him, and the general manager waved him inside.
They chatted cordially during the trip, and within some fifteen minutes or so, were enjoying the pounding music and electric atmosphere of Boy Bar on Avenida Amberes just off Paseo de la Reforma; they stayed almost an hour and then were zipped out by the chauffeur to Cabaret Tito a block away on Avenida Londres. Ross thought the theme of either place was a little sleazy as compared to some of the world class bars he had been in throughout Rome and Berlin and Paris and London, but what the Hell, he was with the hotel general manager who had an open-ended expense account and a chauffeur, so why not?
He had to question the wisdom of that observation within a half hour when he found himself being groped by countless hands in the darkroom of Tito, several of the hands fighting to undo his belt and pants, and was never sure if either the general manager or the chauffeur was involved, but nonetheless knew for certain that a lot of cock was present in this room, because he was constantly feeling flesh against his hands. He stroked all of them and was pleased to feel many of them trying to stroke him as well, even though his cock was safely covered by his suit pants.
By 3 AM, the general manager was showing some fatigue, and Ross agreed to return to the hotel, but surprisingly was not accompanied to his room by his host. Instead, the room-service waiter was holding the elevator door open for him and asked him if he could wait just for a moment. In approximately two minutes, the chauffeur entered the elevator, and apologized that the general manager was not able to accompany them, but the chauffeur was required to see Ross safely to his room.
After the chauffeur had left Ross's room, nearly an hour later, Ross realized he had probably just sucked the most gorgeous cock in Mexico City: 9 inches, perfectly proportioned, long foreskin, thick but not unreasonable, and low hanging balls that would make any man proud in a Speedo at poolside. This equipment all belonged to a very well educated, soft-spoken man bilingual in English and Spanish, who writhed in obvious pleasure as Ross practiced his oral techniques on him. He sucked him, 69'ed with him, sucked his balls, fucked his face, and finally insisted that the chauffeur cum on Ross's face. An hour of oral is almost as good as a quick fuck, he thought, and wanted to be sure that he could hook up with the chauffeur once more before he left the conference. Dropping off to sleep, he suddenly remembered that his conference presentation tomorrow would be at the end of the morning rather than the beginning, allowing him an extra hour to sleep.
Apparently he was sleeping too soundly to hear the room-service waiter bringing the coffee the next morning; it was outside his door after he had showered and dressed and was leaving the room. There was a note from the general manager asking him to dinner that evening; there was also a note from the chauffeur that simply said "gracias". When he entered the auditorium for the conference, about twenty minutes before his own presentation, the room-service waiter handed him two additional notes, one from the Deputy Assistant Minister and one from the co-pilot. This was going to be a very busy weekend. He laughed to himself when he remembered another weekend in Mexico City a few years back, when he had fucked the same chef fourteen times in three days. So far in two days he had been with eight men in almost every possible position.
Following his presentation, Ross was tired, hungry, and frustrated. He decided to return the call to the co-pilot, who told him he had a late flight out of Mexico City and agreed to meet Ross in a few minutes in his hotel room. They met in the lobby bar, had a large antipasto salad, a bottle of wine, and soon were ready to head upstairs. Ross was not sure what he wanted to do this time with the co-pilot but decided to let things run their course. It turned out the pilot wanted to fuck Ross, and while he would normally have not agreed to that, he was tired enough he thought he might as well just lay there and take it, although from a brand new amateur fucker maybe that was not such a good idea.
It turned out Ross was wrong; this man was an expert fucker, and by the time he was gliding out of Ross's ass for the last time, having made a healthy deposit of burning hot cum, Ross was sure this was one he had to keep in his stable. He fell asleep immediately. He was re-awakened by the pilot, who was attempting to re-enter Ross's ass; that maneuver was flipped around, and soon it was the pilot who was kneeling over Ross with a hard cock inside of him. Jacking himself while he was fucking himself on Ross, fly-boy soon came on Ross's chest. He said he wanted to stay for the rest of the weekend but had to fly back to Atlanta; they agreed to meet for a drink in Atlanta.
Late that evening, after a quiet dinner with the general manager, seated in the lobby bar again, Ross decided to return the call to the Deputy Assistant Minister; it turned out he was at his office in the capitol, but would be available in about an hour, and suggested they meet at a small boutique hotel around the corner from the Camino Real hotel. It took Ross about five minutes to walk over to the adjacent hotel, and another ten minutes for the Deputy Minister to enter the lobby; he walked deliberately past Ross but motioned for him to follow, and they turned a corner to the elevators and were soon on the 10th floor and in each others' arms.
Within a few minutes, they were holding each other on the bed, naked, kissing, rubbing, stroking, and then the Minister turned in Ross's arms and pushed his ass back toward him, indicating what he wanted. Within a few more minutes, Ross, with a very eager erection inside the Deputy Assistant Minister realized this man may be gay but he was also extremely tight and had probably not been fucked in the past 6 months. This was going to be a challenge as well as a pleasure. Ross's normal patented fuck was not going to work this time; he was very slow, very deliberate, and wanted to experience every stroke in and out of the ass of this politician.
When he noticed the early light of dawn coming in the hotel room window, Ross realized he and the Minister had traded fucks at least three times each, had showered and fucked again with the Minister bent over in the shower and Ross pounding him from behind, and then Ross fell asleep in the bed. He assumed the Minister kept the room for just this type of activity, but apparently he must top most of the time or he must fuck women, because that was a very tight ass he had just pounded, probably the tightest ass he had been in other than the airline pilot. He walked back to the Camino Real hotel and to his room, where he showered, shaved, and dressed for the final day of the conference.
The closing ceremonies of the conference were short and lacking in drama, so Ross was checked out of his room by Noon and ready to spend a little time doing some sight-seeing around the national capital. The general manager offered to send one of the hotel cars for Ross to spend the afternoon before his 8 PM flight; it turned out the little virgin assistant to the front desk manager was an expert in the notable sights of Mexico City, and sat in the back seat with Ross explaining all of the things they passed.
On the long drive back to the hotel, the little virgin assistant to the hotel front desk manager turned toward Ross and said "I have a question for you. Are all Americans as sexually promiscuous as you?"
Ross was stunned by the question, and said "I do not think I am promiscuous, why do you ask?"
The boy, the man, who was really probably not more than 24 or so, looked straight into Ross's eyes and said "When I first saw you check in at the hotel, I wanted to sleep with you but I was afraid. I have never done anything like that and I really wanted to be with you but it seemed like everyone else was doing that so I was afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
"That you would not like me or that you would laugh at me or that you would think I was not good enough."
"I think you are beautiful, why would I not like you?"
"Well I guess you are very experienced, and I would feel foolish around you."
"No reason to feel that way. So you have never been with a man?"
"No."
"Well, do you want to try something?"
"With you?"
Ross laughed; "Yes, with me."
"You would do that for me?"
"I will tell you this- you tell me what you want to do and we will try it."
The boy, or man, was gasping; he said "I have a small apartment behind the hotel, we can go there for an hour or so; when is your flight? When do you have to leave for the airport?"
"My flight is at 8 PM, so we have to leave at 6."
"Well, then we have two hours. Is that good?"
"Sure, we can have some fun. Lead the way."
They checked the luggage with the hotel concierge and walked down the street and around to the alley behind the hotel, and in a minute or two were in a tiny room with a bed, a shower, a sink, and a refrigerator. Ross undressed the boy, and was slowly kissing him, lightly, and noticed he was not nervous nor was he shaking like the airline pilot; he was almost assertive, and began undressing Ross in turn. He also kissed Ross several times, on the cheeks, lips, and ears, and finally, when they were fully undressed, sat on the edge of the bed and took Ross's cock in his hands and just looked at it.
"It's beautiful" he said.
"I think it's just average."
The boy looked at Ross, stood, held out his hard cock and asked "Do you think this is just average?"
The boy's cock was actually just an inch longer than Ross, although not as thick, and had a lovely foreskin; rather than reply to him, Ross knelt on the thin rug and took the cock in his mouth and then looked up to the man and said "Is this a good answer?" and continued sucking.
The virgin assistant front desk manager responded by fucking into Ross's mouth; pretty soon the man was ready to cum, and Ross made him stop. "Do you want to fuck me?" Ross asked. He smiled, and Ross then lay on his back on the bed, pulled his legs apart, and began rubbing his saliva into his hole, in order to accommodate the cock of the now-not-quite-virgin fucker. Within a minute, the assistant front desk manager was all the way inside Ross's ass, now quite a bit less than a virgin, and Ross was wondering how much this charity work would be worth in karma points. Since the virgin had already been close to cumming in Ross's mouth, it was only another three or four minutes before he was shooting his hot cum into Ross's ass hole.
As he lay panting on the bed alongside Ross, he asked "Do you want to fuck me?" and Ross said "Only if that is what you want."
In another minute or two, Ross was firmly inside the virgin, who was just as tight as the pilot and the Deputy Minister. Ross was actually smiling to himself as he resumed his normal patented fuck rhythm, and the boy was moaning like a bitch, and clearly enjoying every stroke of the famous cock all the way in and all the way back out. It was about ten minutes or more, but when he came inside the boy, it was truly worth it; Ross thought it was perhaps the best, or maybe second best, fuck of that weekend.
They returned to the front of the hotel; the general manager was there with the same chauffeur who had taken them to the clubs and showed Ross into the back seat and wished him a safe trip and begged him to return soon. Nearing the airport parking, the chauffeur said to Ross "We are actually a few minutes early; do you mind doing me a favor?"
"What's that?"
"Well, I had your cock in my mouth, and I still want it in my ass also."
"Sure."
A half hour of fucking in the spacious surroundings of a limousine was actually the second time Ross had that type of experience; the chauffeur was a great fuck, and a power bottom, and Ross had a hard time remembering a worthy power bottom to challenge him that way since Mason. He entered the airplane's first class cabin still smiling broadly; when he noticed the flight attendant, he smiled even more.
Late night driving home from the Atlanta airport, TMGM was silent, other than the few banal questions such as `how was your flight; how was the conference; what did you learn'. Ross dropped his luggage in the master bedroom and fell onto the bed immediately, exhausted. He barely heard TMGM ask him "Do you love me?"
He sat upright on the edge of the bed. "I think so."
There was a flicker of confusion, and then hesitation, on TMGM's face; he then asked "Is it enough?"
Ross lowered his head and said "I don't know."
They went to bed, and Ross fell asleep immediately. In the morning, Ross rolled over and noticed his lover was not in bed; he must have gotten up early. Ross reached over to the side of the bed where TMGM slept, but the bed was cold. He had not slept there after all, and when Ross went to the living room, there was a blanket folded neatly on the end of the sofa. There was a note and a red rose next to the coffee maker: "When you make up your mind, you know where to find me. Love always, JAM de C".