The following is the beginning to a true story. I do not depict sex in this particular entry, as I would like to get you acquainted with myself and my friendship with Kevin and how it turned into something else. Thank you for taking the time to read on. _______________________________________________________________________
Hi. My name is Jude. I'm looking to get laid tonight to take my mind off of the man that I'm in love with. Do you feel up to coming back to my place and helping me out with that? You will of course have to leave immediately after.
Lately this has been my way of introducing myself to whoever is sitting next to me at the bar. Strangely women are turned off by my approach, and they find me crude. Shocking. Another puzzler is that men seem to either laugh awkwardly in response to this introduction or get very very angry. Earlier this week I almost got into a fist fight with a guy due to my blunt words. Apparently he was "straight as an arrow." How was I to know? He didn't have to get so huffy. I told him that to and nearly got killed for it. If his friend hadn't been there to pull him off of me, then I probably would have ended up in the hospital with a busted up face. I wouldn't have minded though; it might have done me some good. I could use some physical pain to counter my emotional agony.
I sound pathetic and what's worse I don't even care. I miss him and I love him and I'm doing a shitty job of moving on. How do I move on when everything and everyone reminds me of him? Or, no, better yet, how do I move on when he keeps calling me and occasionally stopping by my apartment and demanding that I let him in. That is a better question. I thought I knew the answer to it but encouraging women to slap you and men to knock you out has not been very effective.
For the past year and a half, Kevin and I have kept our relationship to ourselves. This was mainly for him although I didn't want anyone to know either. You see I consider myself straight. Before Kevin I didn't hide the fact that I enjoyed being with a man from time to time, but I didn't shout it to the world either. If it came up--which it usually didn't--then I would be honest and I would tell them, "Yes, there have been times when I have slept with men."
"So you're bi?" Was the response I usually got to my above admission.
"No. I'm straight."
"You're straight, but you sleep with men?" They would ask with a frown.
"Yes," I'd assert.
"That doesn't make sense."
At this point in the conversation I would decide whether or not to explain. Usually I decided not to explain because I really didn't care if it made sense to them or not. It made sense to me. With Kevin, however, it stopped making sense. He pretty much fucked up my outlook on the triviality and meaninglessness of having sex with a guy thus resigning me to firmly agree with him when he said, "I don't want anyone to know about this." Not to mention all of our friends and family would have probably fallen over dead if we ever told them. I'm sure we'd have seen a lot of shocked expressions, tears, anger, depression, fear, and so on and so on. Secrecy didn't seem so bad up against those things.
The two of us did a damn good job of hiding our relationship. We learned to lie so well that it got to the point where it was hard to tell the truth about anything. That is not something to brag about because here I am an excellent liar without the ability to look anyone in the eye anymore. I'm an excellent liar who avoids everyone for fear of facing questions like, "What's going on with you and Kevin?" and "Where has Kevin been? Is he alright?" and "Kevin keeps asking about you. Are you two not talking?" and "Can I invite Kevin or are you guys still fighting?"
Kevin and I have known each another since we were twelve. That's, Jesus, fourteen fucking years. Over the course of those years--with the exception of the past year and a half--we never once messed around. We'd jerked off side by side and never touched each other. We'd slept in the same bed several times before and never "accidentally" rubbed up against each other. We'd lived together for a short time and never once snuck into one another's room in the middle of the night or came home and turned to one another when our girlfriend's didn't put out. We were just friends.
There had been times when I had thought about what it would be like to have sex with my friend, but these thoughts were fleeting and mostly dwelled in my subconscious. If I thought about a man sexually, it was not Kevin. Even when we were younger, there was a barrier in my mind when it came to thinking about him like that.
Since I love a man's body and scent and strength, you would think that I had initiated what went on between Kevin and I. I didn't however. My friend, my very straight friend, had kicked off everything. He had actually dropped hints and comments and insinuations for a while before I finally came to understand that he was interested in experimenting with me.
I remember once he said, "If I don't get laid by the end of the week will you let me fuck you?"
He said this facetiously but got upset when I said, "Fuck no."
"What do you mean fuck no?" He asked, frowning
"I mean fuck no," I responded playfully, "For one your cock is too fucking thick and for two I rarely let anyone fuck me."
"Well, the tightest of pussies have taken my cock and lived to praise me the next day."
"Good for those pussies," I grinned
"So you are the fucker and not the fuckee?"
"Yes. Also referred to as being a top," I educated him
"Huh," Kevin thought about this, "I would have thought it'd be the other way around."
"Why?"
He shrugged, "I just would think that that would be something you would want to do."
"Hmm, well, sometimes I did but mostly not."
"Weird."
Another odd thing my friend had said was, "Do you miss fucking around with a guy?"
I remember he said this kind of out of the blue when he was sitting unoccupied on my couch while I typed away on my laptop. My eyes lifted from the screen of my Apple and I said, "Only when Tiffany won't put out."
"Only then?" He asked, failing to pick up on my humor.
"No, I do miss it. Some of my hottest fantasies involve men."
Kevin just stared at me.
"I'd tell you them, but I'm pretty sure I'd turn you gay," I smirked
An ambiguous expression washed over his face when this comment hit his ears, and I watched as he uncomfortably shifted his position on my couch.
"God, you're terrible at picking up on my humor tonight," I said simply and turned my attention back to my laptop.
Countless things like the above happened over the course of a couple months and like an idiot I didn't really question any of them. Even his comment of, "If I were to fool around with a guy, it would have to be with someone I knew very well," rolled right off of my back. I think I even joked and said, "Too bad we don't know each other very well."
I know I seem like a pretty big fool for missing all of these hints, but to me Kevin couldn't have meant anything by the things he had said. For one he was a pussy-chasing animal. For two he used to give me shit for messing around with men. It was all in good fun but nonetheless he did give me shit. For three it just wasn't possible. It was Kevin, my closest friend since junior high school, and it just wouldn't make sense for him to imply that he was interested in experimenting with a guy. I had absolutely no reason to read into his hints, and every reason to disregard them, and I did disregard them until he made himself perfectly clear.
I am hesitant to go into what exactly took place between Kevin and I. Part of me thinks that it's pointless to write it all out, but a bigger part of me recognizes that I need to relieve myself of this secret if by no other way than to share my story with faceless people behind computer screens. And who knows, maybe after I get it all out I will feel like I can breathe again and damn that would be nice.
So here's to breathing again...
A year and a half ago, I sat slumped down on my couch with my legs widely spread across the cushions. My head was thrown back, and I was blankly staring up at the ceiling with the image of my girlfriend's indifferent expression fixed in my mind. She had dashed out of my apartment not too long before, leaving me with a long list of reasons why we could no longer be together.
I had sat there listening to her and waited for her to say, "I just don't know, Jude. I don't want it to be over. I don't want us to break up," like she always did after she had listed off all the reasons why she was unhappy. When she said this, I would move in close to her and tell her I loved her and that I was sorry and then I would kiss her and assure her that things would get better. But... Tiffany never said that. Instead she said, "I just can't anymore, Jude. I just can't." I could see in her eyes that she was serious. She didn't even flinch when I put my arms around her and told her I loved her. She just moved from me and said, "I know that but things are not getting better. WE are not getting better."
As I sat motionless on my couch, my cell phone rang and for a second my heart stopped to the thought that it was Tiffany calling me to say that she had just made a huge mistake. I pulled my phone out from the pocket of my cargo shorts and saw that it was not Tiffany but Kevin calling me. I breathed out and flipped my phone up before lazily saying, "Hey."
"Hey. What are you doin'?" Kevin asked
I briefly looked around my empty apartment before replying, "Nothing."
"You wanna meet me at Maloney's in like... thirty minutes?"
"Naw I don't feel like it."
"No?"
"No... Tiffany and I are through. She just broke up with me," I said dully
"No shit," Kevin replied under his breath
"No shit."
Silence.
"So... I think I'm just gonna stay home and throw away all her shit," I said with no reaction to my cold words.
"Alright, well, I'll stop by. I just need to finish up some stuff here at the restaurant."
"Okay."
An hour or so later Kevin showed up with a case of Heineken and some food from the restaurant where he worked. He had clearly just gotten off of work as indicated by his black slacks, red dress shirt and silver tie. I looked sloppy in my blue t-shirt and tan cargo shorts in comparison to Kevin's crisp appearance.
After letting him in, I lethargically resumed my position on the couch and let my eyes close.
"I brought you some stuffed chicken," Kevin announced from the kitchen as he put the Heineken in the refrigerator.
I didn't respond.
"Do you want it now or are you not hungry?"
"I'm not hungry."
"Sorry it took me so long to get over here. I ran into this girl I knew at the liquor store, and she of course cornered me," Kevin yelled to me
I opened my eyes when I heard his black dress shoes clicking on my wooden floor and announcing his arrival back into my living room.
"Here," He said, extending an opened bottle of beer to me.
"Thanks," I responded limply and grabbed a hold of the bottle then lifted it up to my lips.
"I ran into Lydia. I don't know if I told you about her. She's one of the several girls who calls me all the time with the hope that I'll fuck her again," Kevin said as he sat down beside me on my couch and popped the cap off of his Heineken with a bottle opener.
I could have said something here about his arrogance, but I floated right past the opportunity. The subject had been addressed numerous times before anyway.
Kevin is a good-looking guy, so there is weight behind his pompous attitude--which truly is just a show. Countless times I have witnessed how women throw themselves at him, and it never fails to roll my eyes and tempt my lunch up my throat. Over the years though, I have come to the conclusion that his effortless success with women is not really due to his looks. Yes he is fit and takes care of his body, and yes he does have these intense, pale green eyes that are nicely accented by his thick eyebrows. And his jaw is strong and defined and gives power to all of his other features. And his short, shaggy brown hair that is methodically in disarray and layered to his liking gives him an acute sexy appeal. And blah blah blah the man is gorgeous. But it's really his confident, assertive, no bullshit, straightforward attitude that makes women flock to him like... an analogy that does not do justice to my point.
Take me for example: I'm not a bad looking guy--I have had my due share of sexual advances and partners--but I can't compete with Kevin. When we were younger, I sure as hell tried but with no success. He drips with charm and charisma and exudes this self-assured, composed demeanor that I just don't possess. I'm more humble and modest which is admirable but no doubt not the recipe for making women trip over themselves for me.
"So... you look like you're taking it well," Kevin joked, studying me.
I ignored his wit and once again brought my beer up to my lips.
"What'd she say? What happened?"
I shrugged as I swallowed then said, "A lot of shit about how we don't make sense anymore and we don't work anymore. I don't know."
My head fell back against the couch, and I once again looked up at my ceiling. I could feel Kevin's eyes on me as I devoted my attention up and blinked mindlessly.
"I guess I should have seen this coming," I said
Kevin didn't respond.
"But I didn't. We have so much history together. I really didn't think she'd end it."
My friend again gave no response. He could have highlighted on my naivety and egotism to think that Tiffany wouldn't break up with me, but he didn't. He knew I was already aware of this and I wouldn't respond well to hearing it.
"Shit," I exhaled, leaning forward on the couch and resting my elbows on my knees.
"I'm sorry man," I heard Kevin say
"I just--I don't know--I thought we were just going through a rough period in our relationship. I thought we would work everything out."
"I know... but on the bright side I did bring you some stuffed chicken. No garlic. Extra sauce. And rosemary mashed potatoes."
"I'm going to have a cigarette," I stood up, ignoring Kevin's optimism.
"Okay," He stood up as well.
"You don't have to come. I know you don't want to be around it."
"No it's alright. I'm fine with it."
I grabbed my Camel Filters from the coffee table and headed for my balcony with Kevin walking behind me. Once outside I fished a cigarette out from the pack then progressed to light it and inhale the smoke into my lungs.
"You sure this doesn't bother you?" I asked, gesturing to my cigarette.
Kevin had quit smoking not too long ago, so I had been careful not to smoke around him. I didn't want to make it any harder to quit than it already was; I knew how dedicated he was to quitting. He always said, "When I turn twenty-five, I'm done with this. I can't be a smoker in my mid-twenties. I'll end up being a smoker in my fucking thirties." And sure enough on his twenty-fifth birthday, two months before, he made me watch him throw away his ashtrays and cigarettes.
"No, It's fine. I can be around it; I just can't smoke it," Kevin responded
I nodded once then turned and bent over the edge of the balcony. Kevin stood beside me and we both stared down at the tennis court below in silence. It was well lit, due to it being nine-thirty at night, and surprisingly active for a Tuesday. It was summertime though, so people were enjoying the outdoors more.
"Before she left," I paused, recalling what I was about to say, "She told me that she hoped I ended up with someone who could put up with my independence because she planned on being with someone who was interested in spending time with her."
I took a deep drag from my cigarette then let the smoke escape through my lips as I went on to say, "And when I asked her if she had anyone in mind, her response was to tell me that she never cheated on me. So... that was a yes."
Being a graduate student and working towards getting my Masters in Clinical Psychology, most of my time went towards school. That was one of the major problems between Tiffany and I. She claimed that I never had time for her. She claimed that I was always studying or putting in hours at the psychology clinic on campus or writing my thesis or at the gym or out with Kevin or anywhere besides with her. And that wasn't true. She just demanded, demanded, demanded all of my time, and she never understood when I told her that I couldn't do something. If I couldn't be with her, then that meant that she came last and I was more devoted to other things or other people than I was to her.
"It's possible she's fucking him right now," I said then laughed falsely and shook my head at that heart wrenching thought.
"I doubt it, Jude," Kevin said
"I don't. The two of us haven't had sex in like... shit, two months? I'm sure if she's met someone, she's probably guiltlessly fucking him right now."
"You haven't had sex in two months?"
"Nope," I laughed again, "Why do you think I've been so fucking agitated?"
"Damn... I'm surprised you didn't tell me that."
I shrugged and tapped at my cigarette, encouraging the ashes to fall from it.
"So you really think that she could be fucking some other guy right now?"
I reunited my lips with my Heineken and let myself imagine my girlfriend straddling some asshole that had been comforting her over the past several months of our problematic relationship. Lovely image let me tell you. I had been with that girl for two years and before those two years we had flirted and spent a lot of time together as "friends" for over a year. I was out of my mind in love with her before we had ever kissed or made love or anything. How sweet right? Well, none of that mattered anymore as I stood on my balcony with the image of her cumming to another mans dick.
"I wouldn't put it past her," I responded monotonously to Kevin, "If you had seen her face when she told me it was over, then you wouldn't either."
"Hm," He said and bent over the edge of the balcony with me. The two of us once again stared silently at the clumsy people playing tennis below us while I satisfied my nicotine addiction.
"Well," Kevin started, breaking the silence between us, "She broke up with you, so you're free to have sex with whoever you want to now."
"Yea."
"And if she's already met someone then that should make it easier to consider moving on too," He went on.
I nodded unenthusiastically. This was not exciting news to me.
"If I were you... I would be thinking about getting laid instead of thinking about how Tiffany could be getting laid right now."
I just kept nodding and watching the amateur tennis match.
"Especially since you haven't had sex in two months."
"Yea," I replied robotically
Kevin took a deep swallow of his beer and joined me in observing the people smacking their rackets around and more often than not missing the ball. One of the men playing was getting frustrated with his wife, I'm assuming, and he kept throwing his hands in the air when she hit the ball out and gave their opponents points. I half-heartedly wished someone would trip him or something because no one was throwing their hands up when he hit the ball out.
"If you wanted to... we could have sex," Kevin said, his words dripping from his tongue like a melting piece of ice.
This comment from my friend erupted a weak laugh from me and moved me to look over at him and ask, "You and me?"
"Yea," He replied, turning his head to me
"Could have sex?" I added, laughing the words.
"If you wanted to."
"Are you serious?"
"Don't I look serious?" He asked, and he did.
I didn't know what to say to this, so I just stared at him behind bewildered eyes.
"I've been wondering about it, " Kevin admitted
"Wondering about what?"
"... What it would feel like to... be on the receiving... end of things," He said, his words coming out very fragmented as he looked at me closely and gauged my response to every word he spoke.
I nodded once then said, "You're open-minded to doing something like that now?"
"Well with you... I'm not interested in fucking around with guys. I'm just curious what it would feel like. And since you're so damn liberal about that kind of thing, I'm just saying... if you want to, then you and I could..." Kevin said, and then waved his hand as to let this gesture finish the rest of his sentence.
A grin snuck onto my lips as I observed his laid-back demeanor in what he was suggesting. He was pitching the idea like he would pitch that we should start playing racket ball or something trivial like that. It was a little comical and very much took the edge off of the awkwardness of his proposal.
"What?" Kevin asked in response to my grin.
"I always knew you had a crush on me," I said.
"Oh fuck off," He breathed and looked away from me.
"I always knew one day you would come to appreciate my 'homosexual tendencies' as you put it."
I could see Kevin smiling even though he wasn't looking at me.
"Does this mean you have homosexual tendencies too, Kev?" I joked with him, banging my shoulder against his shoulder.
"Funny. See, I knew you would give me shit," He said, saying this more to himself than to me, then tilted his head back and encouraged a generous amount of beer to flow down his throat.
"Or does this mean that you are as bisexual as I am? Because you can't forget your hard pressed rule: if you fuck around with a guy, then you are at least bisexual."
"Okay, you can stop being an asshole," Kevin said, finally turning his head to me.
I smiled big, like an idiot, and rejoiced in how beautiful the tables had turned.
"The only reason I'm suggesting this to you is to give you a chance to satisfy your curiosity in what I'm like in bed."
"Oh really? I'm curious about what you're like in bed."
"Yes," He affirmed.
"If I were curious wouldn't I have tried something with you a long time ago?" I challenged him
"No because I intimidate you."
"Oh bullshit, Kevin. You may intimidate everyone else, but you do not intimidate me. Goddamn, you're an arrogant prick," I laughed
"I do intimidate you. You're probably too intimidated to even go through with it," He said
"Bullshit."
"You are. You can't do it."
"Are you using reverse psychology on me? I'm a psychology major asshole, that isn't going to work."
"I think you're too nervous," Kevin went on.
"That's absurd," I hissed
"You're nervous about seeing me naked and seeing-"
"I've seen you naked. You're being ridiculous."
"So you aren't afraid to fuck me?" He asked me directly
My dick stirred in my shorts when my friend asked me this, and I straightened my back a little. I was very surprised by the candid question and how hard it had slapped me in the face and encouraged me to realize what we were talking about.
"No. I'm not afraid to fuck you," I said, chuckling a little.
"Then prove it."
"What?" I asked, frowning
"Prove it," Kevin said again without so much as blinking an eye
"What, right now?" I asked, my frown growing deeper
"No. Not right now. Prove it tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"Yea, I open the restaurant so I'll be off like around seven. Prove it then."
I laughed uneasily and shook my head at him, "You're serious?"
"Yes."
"You really want to do this?"
"You really don't want to do this?" He shot back at me without missing a beat.
I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out, so I shut it and just shrugged, completely baffled by whatever the fuck was happening.
"If you're all freaked out and nervous about it, then we can just drop it. This of course will prove how intimidated you are by how attractive I am," Kevin said nonchalantly
I blew air out through my teeth then said, "You're out of your mind."
"Am I?" He asked me
"Yes. You are. I'd probably have trouble getting hard," I said, feeding into this little game he was playing with me.
Kevin smiled at this comment and just stared at me.
"Seriously," I said, smiling as well. He has a very contagious smile.
"That's such a lie," He laughed under his breath
"No it's not. I'm pretty sure my dick would be unresponsive to whatever sex appeal you're claiming to have."
"Alright, well tomorrow then. I guess we'll find out."
"Why not tonight?" I asked then immediately regretted asking that question. He had really sucked me into his bullshit talk; I couldn't catch the words before they flew out of my mouth.
"Because I just got off work and need to take a shower and because I'm fucking exhausted," He explained, laughing a little.
I nodded and Kevin nodded and for a handful of seconds we just silently looked at each other.
"Listen, eat the food I brought you and try not to smoke a pack of cigarettes thinking about Tiffany," He said, lifting himself up from my balcony's edge.
"Are you leaving?" I asked, looking up at him
"Yea. I need to get home. But seriously don't smoke a pack of cigarettes and don't call her, alright? No drunk dialing," Kevin said firmly, pointing his finger at me.
"Alright."
"Alright. See ya tomorrow," He said, pulling back the sliding door to my apartment.
"See ya," I replied as he pulled the door closed behind him.
I watched as Kevin walked through my living room to the front door where he made his exit. Once he was gone, I turned my eyes to the view from my balcony and carelessly flicked my neglected cigarette from my fingers. I was tempted to reach into my pocket for another one, but I took Kevin's advice and decided against chain smoking.
As I stood on my balcony--not smoking my desired cigarettes--I recalled the cunning banter from my friend and the part had I played in it. The memory made me laugh to myself and run my hand back and forth over my head, making a mess of the subtle curls to my dark blonde hair.
I didn't know what had just happened or where it had come from, and at that time I didn't care to examine it. At that time I was just appreciative to Kevin for giving me a nice distraction from the thought of some asshole touching my girlfriend. I was happy to experience a little anxiety and uncertainty. It sure beat the hell out of feeling jealous and depressed.
Emails are welcomed and appreciated. Thanks for reading this far.