At first I was carried away by the novelty--how strange it felt holding a man's hard, muscular body in my arms instead of the yielding flesh of a woman's. How different his chest looked from Patti's, with its two chiseled slabs lightly furred with hair. I ran my hands over it, feeling leathery skin and hard muscle instead of cupping smooth handfuls of female breast. I traced the ridges on his stomach, down to the long, heavily veined pole jutting from between his thighs, capped by a crown of darker flesh wet with clear fluid. I hesitated before I took hold of it, which made him chuckle. "It won't bite," he said. Somehow I had it in my mind that two men together would be rough and uncaring, interested only in getting their rocks off. It wasn't that way at all. Cumming seemed to be the last thing on Barry's mind. He took his time, using his hands, his lips, his tongue to show me all the ways in which a man could make another man feel good.
That's why even now his memory stays so clear in my mind. It was the almost shocking contrast between the granite hardness of Barry's body and the tender way in which he used it--the contrast between the sandpaper stubble on his chin and the softness of his lips and tongue. I discovered that my nipples were just as sensitive as Patti's when he took them in his mouth. He licked and fondled them until I was writhing with delight, then worked his way down to my hard, leaking cock. I had already felt his mouth on it, but was totally unprepared for the way in which he teased the head with his tongue, licking the pre
from the opening, running his tongue around the crown, then suddenly descending the shaft until his nose was pressed against my pubes, engulfing me.
Soon I was groaning helplessly under his expert ministrations.
Patti had given me head, but I always felt she was doing it to please me. Barry was doing it not only to please me, but also because he loved what he was doing.
As if reading my mind, Barry ceased his labors momentarily, raised his head and winked at me. "Can you tell I love your cock?"
My laugh was shaky. "Uh--I think so."
"So fucking hot." His eyes darkened with renewed lust. "Got any rubbers? I want this thing up my ass."
Something in me recoiled at the thought of what he was suggesting, but his consuming desire overrode my inhibitions. "I keep some in the nightstand," I said, pointing with my eyes. "The lube's under the bed."
Barry snickered. "For those sudden midnight urges, eh? Good man." In a flash he had gathered the necessary equipment together and was carefully rolling a condom over my cock. He stroked lube onto it, then reached behind himself. When he was done he raised himself over my prone body, took hold of my sheathed cock and guided it into the cleft behind his balls. I felt a pressure that increased almost to the point of pain, then a sudden, squeezing warmth. Barry's face contorted with momentary pain and he stopped moving.
"You okay?" I asked him.
He nodded, managing a smile. After a moment he began to bend his knees, lowering himself toward my body. I raised my head, watching my cock disappear inside him. The sensation was indescribable--I'd never felt anything like the velvety smooth pressure and heat that surrounded my organ. I felt his butt pressing against my pubic bone and realized I was all the way in.
I looked up at Barry's face. His eyes were closed, his mouth open, his expression one of rapt ecstasy. Again I felt the shock of revelation. There was no doubt he was enjoying this as much, if not more, than me. He leaned forward, grabbing and stroking my chest with the palms of his hands as he rocked back and forth.
"Fuck that's good," he said softly. I made some noise of assent. Barry opened his eyes and smiled at me. He raised his body so that my cock partially emerged, then brought himself down in one quick motion, taking it all the way back in. Simultaneous grunts of pleasure came from both of us.
"You like that?"
Without waiting for my answer, he began to move his hips so that my cock slid in and out of his rectum. One strong hand grabbed his own cock and began to jack it as he used mine. Barry's asshole was far tighter than anything my dick had ever been in before. Expertly he worked muscles somewhere inside, squeezing and rubbing my pole until I was on the verge of shooting. With that odd telepathy he had, Barry slowed his motions then, opened his eyes and looked at me again.
"Not yet, buddy. Let's turn over."
I realized what he meant as he slid a hand under my back and urged me up. He turned onto his back, taking me with him, until I was lying on top of his body, my cock still inside him, his knees against his chest and his calves hooked over my shoulders. Barry grinned mischievously, grabbed my head and planted a quick kiss on my lips.
"Do your thing, straight boy. Fuck me."
I began to thrust, quickly increasing my pace until I was drilling his hole. The harder I fucked him the more Barry egged me on, chanting a litany of obscenities while he fisted his own leaking cock underneath my driving body.
"C'mon, fucker, give it to me. Fuck that hole. Give me that hot load in my man cunt. Fuck me. Fuck me."
"Gonna," I said through gritted teeth.
"Do it. Do it now, fucker."
"Oh, yes, oh yes, YES--" I lunged forward as if to split Barry in two as the orgasm boiled up from my balls, shouting wordlessly at the top of my lungs as I delivered what felt like a quart of through my cock into the rubber inside him. Dimly I was aware of Barry shouting too, his hand moving frantically between us, hot fluid spilling onto his stomach and matting the already sweaty hair.
I clung to him like a drowning man in a hurricane. At last I started to catch my breath and my body sagged down onto his, just as it had in the shower. My head hit the pillow and I opened my eyes.
I lifted my upper body and looked down at him, then at myself. Here I was, lying with a man bent double underneath me, my cock buried in his ass. My body was sticky and fragrant with his sweat and. For quite a while my body had been doing all the talking for me, but now my mind began to try and take back control.
"You okay, Sean?"
Barry must have sensed something of what I was thinking, because he added, "Don't think. Just feel. How do you feel?"
I closed my eyes and obeyed. After a while I opened them and said, "I feel--good."
Barry smiled up at me. "So do I. Except my legs are cramping. Let me up, will you?"
I got him some old shorts of mine to wear, but my shirts were not going to fit him. Barry shrugged. "It's only a few blocks back to the track. Got anything I could wear on my feet?"
The rain had stopped and we walked down damp streets, water dripping from the leaves on the trees and the clean scent of storm-washed air around us. Barry strode bare-chested next to me, an pair of my old sandals on his feet, his wet clothes and shoes in a bundle under one arm. I cast a sidelong glance at him. I had held this man in my arms, kissed him and made love to him, possessed him as I had my girlfriend. It seemed unreal.
We stood by our respective cars at the track and chatted briefly, just as if it had been any other day we had gone running.
"See you Monday morning?" he asked.
Involuntarily I hesitated. "Uh--can I call you? I need to check." He shook his head and sighed. Something in his expression made me bridle.
"What?"
"Yeah, you do that." He turned and got into his car, leaving me standing there, staring after him.
"You pissed me off. I didn't think you were going to call," Barry explained a few days later. We were lying in my upstairs bedroom. The front that had brought the rain the past weekend had passed, and the days had been brilliant, the nights cool and clear.
"Well, I did."
"Yep, you did. I should've known you'd surprise me. You have from the beginning, you know." He ran a hand over my stomach. I shivered at his touch.
"Why?"
"I thought you'd be a much tougher nut to crack, if you'll pardon the expression. Even though I could tell you wanted it."
"You could?"
He laughed. "Sure. Your eyes were all over me from the very first time we saw each other at the track. Otherwise I wouldn't have said anything to you. I don't usually go after straight guys. I was surprised as heck when you said you had a girlfriend."
"Really?" I thought about what he had just said. Barry had picked up on signals I hadn't even known I was sending. What did this say about my relationship with Patti? For the moment I pushed those thoughts away.
"Really. Then, when I came on to you last weekend and you were so into it. I figured you'd go on a big guilt trip after it was over and I'd never see you again."
"I don't do that to people."
"Well, I'm sure glad you didn't do it to me. One taste of this baby wouldn't have been enough." He took hold of my cock, which, despite having shot a healthy load very recently began to stir again.
I sighed and stretched. "I'd never thought I'd say this, but I love the taste of yours too."
He looked at me intently. "You ready for it tonight?" I hesitated. Barry had made it clear that he wasn't just a "bottom"--a word whose new meaning I had learned from him--but wanted to fuck me as well. At first I couldn't even imagine a man's cock up my ass. But looking at him take me into his body, his face when I was driving into him, hearing his ecstatic cries when he came with my cock inside him--I had had to admit to myself that I wanted to know what it felt like.
I said, "Yes."
Barry grinned. "Good man. First fluff me up." He had taught me that word as well, and I set to work on his cock, relaxing my throat so I wouldn't choke on its impressive length. Barry's sighs and murmurs of "that's good" told me I was doing okay. Soon enough it was standing at its full length, hard as steel. I got a condom and sheathed him, then lubricated both him and me. Finally the moment of truth had arrived. I put my feet on either side of his body and squatted down toward his cock, hanging on to one of shoulders for balance.
Barry smiled encouragement. "Take it slow. I'll help you."
I felt the tip touch my hole and shivered. Gingerly I descended, my thighs trembling with the strain of holding myself up, and felt my sphincter start to give under the pressure. Suddenly it gave way and the head of his cock slid in. I felt a sharp pain and cried out. I tried to rise up off of him, but Barry had anticipated this and his hands gripped my hips firmly, keeping me impaled on his rod. He shook his head, smiling.
"You're not getting away that easy. Just stay there."
"But--"
"Just stay there. Try to relax."
It wasn't easy to stay in that squatting position, and my legs were quickly getting fatigued. Barry had counted on this. Soon there was nothing I could do but give in and let my body slowly sink downward. To my utter surprise there was no more pain, only warm fullness as his flesh penetrated deeper into me. In a moment my full weight was down on him. I let out a sigh of astonished delight.
"How's it feel?"
"Incredible," I gasped. He laughed.
"I thought you'd like it."
I moved my hips experimentally and drank in the new sensations that coursed through my body. As I rode his dick Barry rose up off the bed and took me into his arms, so that I was cradled in his lap. We kissed, slow and long.
"Oh Sean," Barry whispered in my ear. "You're so hot."
He pushed me down, changing our positions, until I was on my back on the bed and he was above me. His eyes never left my face as he began to thrust into me, at first slowly and gently, gradually fucking me harder and faster until he was slamming into my body, drawing a grunt from my lungs at every impact.
He took my cock and stroked it until it was rock-hard and ready to shoot for the second time that evening, then kissed me again. That sent me over the edge. My cries were muffled by his mouth clamped on mine as I shot my load onto my stomach. I heard incoherent sounds emerge from his throat and knew that he wasming as well.
We finally broke apart, still gasping for air.
"Congratulations," Barry said. "You're no longer a virgin."
"What do you mean? I lost it a long time ago."
"Sean, think about it. Men can lose their virginity twice."
Somehow that struck me as funny and I started laughing helplessly. I couldn't stop. Barry laughed too though I'm not sure he knew what the joke was.
"For a straight guy, you're an awful lot of fun," he said.
Looking back, it's funny, but I never once felt any guilt during that week. Of course I was kidding myself, but at that point I didn't even feel as though I were cheating on Patti. After all, I wasn't with another woman.
I even had idle thoughts, absurd thoughts, that I could somehow make a life with Patti and still see Barry too. I was living in a dream world that week. I shouldn't have been surprised when it all came crashing down.
Patti had been pretty short with me before she left and I didn't know exactly when she was coming back from her trip. As of Saturday night I still hadn't heard anything from her. I figured she might call sometime during the coming week. I told Barry to come over on Sunday morning, our day off from running, and we'd go get some breakfast.
Promptly at ten o'clock I heard someone knocking at the kitchen door.
"Where's your car?" I asked him.
"Left it at the track and jogged over here. I actually just did a short run. Feeling full of energy today." He took me in his arms and kissed me. He was damp with perspiration, radiating body heat. It only took that much for my body to respond and I pressed harder against him.
"Mmm, looks like I'm not the only one with a lot of energy this morning." His hands were sliding underneath my shorts. "No underwear-- I like that." He knelt, pulled my erect cock out and took it in his mouth. I closed my eyes and caressed his head. His hands squeezed my ass cheeks. He let go of my cock and buried his face in my pubic hair.
"Damn, you get me so hot." He reached down and from somewhere in his shorts he pulled a foil-wrapped object out and waved it up at me, waggling his eyebrows playfully . "I brought this. Just in case you wanted to have a quick one before breakfast."
"Want to go upstairs?" I was powerless to resist him.
He shook his head. "Turn around and bend over."
The stove was installed in an island in the middle of the kitchen. I braced myself against it. Behind me rough hands pulled at my scanty clothing. The sweat shorts I was wearing hit the floor and his hands pushed my t-shirt up to my armpits. I heard him fumbling behind me with the condom wrapper, tearing it open, quickly unrolling it onto himself and spitting onto it. I wasn't sure how it was going to feel without any more lube than that but I wanted him so badly at that moment it didn't matter.
I felt the blunt head of his cock at my back door, and before I knew it he had shoved it open and entered me. My head snapped back and I screamed at the burning pain--he wasn't being nearly as gentle as the first time. I writhed, trying to get away, but he had me pinned against the counter with his weight and his bodybuilder's arms.
"Shh," he whispered in my ear. "Don't fight it."
He thrust with his hips again and I let out a second agonized cry, desperately trying to accommodate him. A warmth began to rise from deep inside me and cut through the hurt. My protests subsided to short gasps and I dropped my head, my senses overwhelmed by Barry's cock surging through me, irresistible and unstoppable. At last I felt his body press up against mine.
"That's it. Take it all, baby," Barry crooned behind me.
Still a bit peeved by his rough entry, I looked back at him and snapped, "What choice do I have?"
At that he grinned and said, "None," slamming into me for emphasis and drawing an "Oof!" of mixed pain and pleasure from me. There was more pleasure than pain, though, and I bowed my head and gave in to his conquering body as he began to fuck me at his leisure, drawing his cock out slowly and thrusting it home, raising himself or bending his knees to plow into me at different angles, finally settling into a steady, hammering rhythm of lust. He grasped my cock and began to stroke it in rhythm with his thrusts and I knew I couldn't hold out much longer. Sure enough, in a minute guttural moans rose out of me at the same time as shot from my cock held in his pumping hand and ran down the enameled cabinet doors in thick splashes.
As I began to come back to earth I opened my eyes, which had been squeezed tightly shut, and blinked until they came back into focus. Suddenly my heart stopped.
Patti's face was staring in through the open kitchen window, her features a mask of horror. As our eyes met she disappeared. I heard footsteps running down the driveway.
"Jesus Christ!"
I wrenched myself off of Barry, pulled up my shorts and ran out the door after her, calling her name. I caught up with her on the street, as she was trying to unlock her car. To this day I don't know why she hadn't come up the driveway in it, the way she usually did. Maybe it was fate.
"Patti, wait."
She turned, and I could see she was crying. She was holding a gift-wrapped box in one hand.
"Get away from me."
"Patti, please."
"GET AWAY!" she shrieked, and threw her package at me. I dodged it, and heard the crash of something shattering on the driveway. She got her car door open, got in, and started the engine. A roar, a shriek of rubber on pavement and she was gone.
I stood in the street looking after her, sick to my stomach. Finally I turned back, picked up the box she had thrown at me and slowly opened it. Inside were the shattered remains of a brightly colored piece of crockery, some souvenir she'd brought back as a present for me from wherever she'd been.
Footsteps sounded. Barry had come outside. He stood before me now, disheveled and beautiful. The picture had no effect on me whatsoever. Funny how things could turn completely around in an instant. It had happened twice in a little over a week.
"I didn't know she was coming," he said.
I stared down at the ruined gift. "Neither did I, obviously."
"I'm sorry. Anything I can do?"
I shook my head.
"Guess I'd better go."
I didn't watch as he began to walk down the street, back to the track.
She wouldn't answer the phone when I called. Damn that Caller ID.
A week went by, then two. I had to see her and somehow make things right. Suddenly the week with Barry seemed like a bad dream. I was a normal guy, damn it, not one of those fags or queers. I had a good job and a wonderful girl I was going to marry. The life I had planned was about to slip out of my grasp and I couldn't let that happen.
I left my own job half an hour early, drove to her office building, and waited in the parking lot for her to come out. I was hoping she'd be alone, but when she did appear, she was with a guy, a sandy blond with a buzz cut, dressed like a dweeb in a short-sleeved shirt with a necktie. That made me mad. I stepped out of the car and walked rapidly toward them.
"Patti," I called. Patti had been smiling and chatting with her companion. As soon as she caught sight of me she stopped in her tracks, and her face darkened.
"Sean, what are you doing here?"
"Patti, could I talk to you?"
"She doesn't want to talk to you, bud, can't you see that?" her companion said, his jaw rising. I ignored him and looked straight into her eyes.
"Patti, please. Just for a minute."
Something flickered in her face. She turned to her co-worker. "Mike, it's okay."
"You sure?" he asked, still staring at me, unwilling to give in.
"Please, Mike, just go. I'll be fine."
He left, casting a baleful glance at me over his shoulder, and Patti faced me.
"Well?"
"Can't we go somewhere?"
She shook her head. "This is as good a place as any."
"Then walk with me." Unwillingly she fell into step beside me as we started down the sidewalk. There was a concrete bench at the first corner and Patti sat on it, holding herself very straight and looking straight ahead.
I perched beside her. "Patti, let me explain."
She wheeled around to face me, her eyes blazing. "Explain? I know what I saw, Sean. I'm not stupid."
I floundered. "I know, I know. I--Patti, all I can say is it will never happen again. I promise."
She closed her eyes and sighed. Then she shook her head. "I wish I could believe you. But--I don't."
"Why not, damn it? Why can't you believe it was just a stupid mistake? He--that guy, he talked me into it. He forced me."
A ghost of a smile appeared on her face. "You? No one could force you into anything, Sean." Her expression clouded again. "I was standing there for quite a while before you saw me."
I felt sick. "Why didn't you say something?"
She shook her head violently. "I was too shocked. I opened my mouth and no sound came out."
The image of her horrified face rose before me.
"I couldn't stop looking. I was looking at your face. Your expression. He was--doing that to you and you were in heaven. I'd never seen you look like that when we were making love. Not ever."
She stared ahead again. "I'm not--you know, prejudiced. I have gay and bi friends. I think everyone should be free to live as they please. But, I don't want a lover or--a husband--like that. I'm just not that open-minded." She tried to smile as her eyes filled. "Call me old-fashioned."
I sat silent. Patti rose, dabbing at her eyes. "Goodbye, Sean."
Her footsteps receded into the distance.
As if things weren't bad enough, it had become clear that Barry was avoiding me. He left me messages canceling our dates to run together, saying he was sick. I kept getting his voice mail both at home and at the office. One day, while I was on my way to run some errands, I saw him coming toward me, jogging in the bike path along the other side of the street. I raised my hand in greeting and honked my horn. I was sure our eyes met, but he kept right on running without the slightest sign he'd noticed me.
It was a month after the day Patti had walked in on us when he finally called me at the office. "Sean, I'm sorry I've been out of touch. Can I meet you somewhere after work?"
A few hours later we sat in a booth in a noisy, impersonal chain restaurant along the highway.
"Sorry I haven't called," he said. He stared down at his beer.
"It's okay," I said, pretending a casualness I didn't feel. "I know you've been busy. I'm glad you called."
"I have some news. You know the economy's been bad--well, the company's eliminating my position."
"Tough luck, Barry," I said, really sympathetic. "If there's anything I can do--"
"No," he cut me off. "Actually, it's not so bad. They have an opening in their Dallas branch and they offered it to me. I'll have to take a pay cut and they can't cover moving costs, but hey, it's a job. I accepted their offer."
"Oh." I was stunned but tried to keep my cool. "So, that's too bad. No more running in the rain, eh?" I tried to smile. "Dallas isn't that far. I can come up on weekends, twice a month, at least--"
"Sean." His eyes met mine at last. "Look, I'm thinking in terms of us just being friends from now on."
I gave up then and just sat, staring at him. Barry started explaining then, which only made things worse.
"That day your girlfriend saw us--that weirded me out. I never meant for it to go this far. It's just too much for me to deal with right now."
"There's no girlfriend any more, Barry. You think there would be after what she saw? We're history."
"We both need space," he insisted. "We need to step back and take a deep breath, think things out. Away from each other."
He was gazing steadily at me with that movie-idol face. The thought that he might actually believe what he was saying was the only thing that kept me from throwing my Diet Coke at him.
"Well, fine." I rose. "Thanks for having the guts to say it to my face." I tossed a couple of bills on the table and turned to go, just like in the movies. I'd always wanted to do that.
"Sean." I looked back. "I'll call you once I get settled, okay?"
"I won't hold my breath." I left before he could answer, pushed open the door and strode rapidly to my car in the parking lot. Something was wrong, though--my key wouldn't go in the front door lock. I was cursing under my breath before I looked in the window and saw a pack of cigarettes on the front seat. I didn't smoke. This wasn't my car.
I stood there, willing myself not to look up to check whether Barry had seen the conclusion of my grand exit.
It was a couple of months later. Barry hadn't called, not that I had thought he would. I was flipping through the Sunday paper at home and caught a glimpse of a familiar face in a photograph. I stopped and turned back until I found the picture in the Society section. Sure enough, it was Patti, pretty as ever, with a man who seemed familiar.
They looked relaxed and happy. The paragraph below announced the engagement of Patricia Richards and Michael Fulton. I remembered Patti's co-worker in the parking lot that day after work. It was him.
I worked up the nerve to call her one last time a few days after I saw the announcement. My hand was trembling as I held the receiver. Let it be her machine, I thought. I could leave a casual congratulations and have done with it.
"Hello?" Patti's voice said.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
"Hello? Sean?"
"Patti," I finally managed.
"Hi, Sean," she said. I could read nothing in her tone.
"How did you know it was me?"
"Caller ID."
"Well, I'm surprised you answered, then." She didn't respond to my weak attempt at a joke, so I hurried on. "Listen, I won't keep you long. Just wanted to say congratulations on your engagement. I'm sure Mike's a wonderful guy."
A pause, then she said, "Well, thank you, Sean. It's nice of you to call. I mean that."
She didn't say anything about inviting me to the wedding. Had I expected her to? Somehow I had to say something else before I let her go.
"Patti." A lump rose in my throat and I had to struggle to get the words out. "I also wanted to say... I'm sorry." Silence at the other end.
"Sorry for what I put you through. You didn't deserve it."
"Sean," she finally said. "Could I ask you something?" Her voice was shaking now, no doubt about it.
"What?"
"This... thing." She couldn't bring herself to use the word. "With the other man. It just happened, right?"
"What do you mean?"
"It... it wasn't going on all the time we were together?"
"No," I said as firmly as I could. "I would never have done that to you, Patti. You've got to believe me."
"Okay," she said, her voice a little brighter. A pause. "Are you, like, going with guys now?"
Something lurched in my chest, and I realized that I was on the verge of tears. "I--don't know, Patti. I don't know anything. Except that I'm alone and I'd give anything to be with you again." I knew it was hopeless but I had to say it.
Silence at the other end, then, "Sean?"
"Yes?" I could barely get the word out.
"I think about you a lot. I want you to be happy."
This was too much. I choked out, "Bye," and hung up the phone before I lost it.
I wasn't telling Patti the truth, or not the whole truth, at any rate. I did miss her terribly--her eyes, her laugh, her willingness to listen, her warm, fragrant presence when we were in the car or at the movies.
But late at night, alone in my bed, it wasn't her body I wanted next to mine. It was a hard male chest I felt pressing down on me in my dreams, rough stubble raking across my cheeks as lips pressed against mine and an urgent tongue darted into my mouth. I saw Barry's steely blue eyes boring into me as he drove his cock into me, splitting my body and soul wide open.
Once I awoke in the middle of the night, crying out, to find that my body and the sheets were covered with sticky, cooling fluid. In my dream Barry and I hadn't even been fucking, just running around the track at the high school on a cool and cloudy morning, good buddies out for a run, happy and carefree. I lay, staring into the dark emptiness of my bedroom. Finally I rose to clean up the mess.
The summer days passed slowly by. One day I came home after getting a quick dinner at the barbecue place near my house. It had been cloudy and humid all day, and as it grew dark the clouds became more threatening.
Sitting in a chair in my office, I paged through the messages on my answering machine, hardly listening to most of them. The last one started. I recognized the voice and sat up, alert.
"Sean, it's Barry. Sorry I haven't called. Seems like I'm always apologizing." A short, embarrassed laugh. "Anyway, things are going okay but--I miss you. Call me back if you feel like it."
He said his number. I slumped back down in my chair as the computerized voice from the machine informed me there were no more messages.
As I sat watching TV a bit later, I saw the flash of lightning outside my window and heard the rumble of thunder. In a moment the patter of rain sounded on my roof and quickly increased to the steady drumming of a massive downpour. Minutes passed and the deluge showed no sign of abating.
I was alone and the only light in my house was from the TV. Impulsively I turned it off. Now I was surrounded by darkness and the sound of the rain, punctuated now and then by the abrupt glare of a lightning strike and the deep, rolling rumble of thunder. "The gods are bowling in heaven," my father used to joke.
I went to the back door and opened it. A cool, moist breeze struck me in the face, the smell of fresh dirt and the peculiar odor of storm-charged air wafting into my nostrils. Rain was falling in steady rivulets off the awning. I unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it over my head, then pulled off the rest of my clothes and my shoes. When I was naked I stepped out onto the wooden deck. It was dark and no one was going to see me. I raised my head and opened my mouth, letting the rainwater pelt my face and run over my body.
Suddenly a memory rose unbidden in my brain. It was a broiling hot summer day when I was a boy of eight or so, playing with my best friend Russ in the back yard of my family house in a small town in West Texas, running through the sprinkler that my father had thoughtfully set up for us. My parents had gone off on some errand, warning us to stay in the yard. Obsessed as we were with our activities, we didn't notice the cloudburst coming until the first crack of thunder sounded loud above our heads. Then the rain began to fall in large, heavy drops.
I started for the house, but Russ said, "Why are you going in?"
"We're going to get wet," I started to say, then realized how silly that was, even before Russ laughed. Then a mischievous grin spread across his face. Even as a little boy I thought him handsome.
"Let's play a new game," he said. "Greek Olympic runner."
"How do you play that?" I asked, puzzled.
"Well," Russ replied, "You have to take off your bathing suit."
"Why?" I said, sensing danger.
"Cause, stupid, the ancient Greeks ran without anything on when they raced. Don't you know anything?" He added, placatingly, "Don't worry. I'm going to do it too."
This piqued my interest. "Okay," I said. "You first."
"No, you," he said immediately. "Okay then, let's strip together. First one to touch the back fence wins. Ready, set, go!"
Before I lost my nerve I quickly pulled down my suit and pulled it off. The rain was pouring down around us and the sprinkler, ridiculously, was still going. Russ peeled his trunks down and flung them high into the air, letting out a whoop as he began to dash across the yard. I pursued him, feeling the rush of air between my legs, reveling in the glorious freedom of running naked, watching Russ's butt muscles pumping as he ran toward the fence, the water pelting down on us both. We might have been struck by lightning in that instant but I wouldn't have cared.
As I stood there in the dark, that day from my childhood faded and blended seamlessly into a much more recent memory, the Saturday afternoon early that spring when Barry and I had come back to my house laughing, out of breath and soaked to the skin. I thought of how every cord of muscle in his back had been visible through the soaked cotton of his T-shirt, how the fabric of his shorts had clung to his buttocks. We had gone inside to dry off, and then my life had turned upside down.
My hands clenched into fists. By now I was trembling violently with cold and my teeth were chattering, but I took no notice, aware only of the hot pain inside me that threatened to burst my chest. Tears started out of the corners of my tightly closed eyes, running down my cheeks and momentarily warming the skin on my face.
I dropped my head forward, my body collapsed and I sank to the deck, the wet wood icy against my forearms and knees. A sob escaped me, then another. After the third I opened my mouth in a wail as a storm of grief shook my body. The indifferent rain continued to fall, and another rumble of thunder shook the earth. No one saw me in my cold misery. No one heard me crying.
That's why even now his memory stays so clear in my mind. It was the almost shocking contrast between the granite hardness of Barry's body and the tender way in which he used it--the contrast between the sandpaper stubble on his chin and the softness of his lips and tongue. I discovered that my nipples were just as sensitive as Patti's when he took them in his mouth. He licked and fondled them until I was writhing with delight, then worked his way down to my hard, leaking cock. I had already felt his mouth on it, but was totally unprepared for the way in which he teased the head with his tongue, licking the pre
from the opening, running his tongue around the crown, then suddenly descending the shaft until his nose was pressed against my pubes, engulfing me. Soon I was groaning helplessly under his expert ministrations.
Patti had given me head, but I always felt she was doing it to please me. Barry was doing it not only to please me, but also because he loved what he was doing.
As if reading my mind, Barry ceased his labors momentarily, raised his head and winked at me. "Can you tell I love your cock?"
My laugh was shaky. "Uh--I think so."
"So fucking hot." His eyes darkened with renewed lust. "Got any rubbers? I want this thing up my ass."
Something in me recoiled at the thought of what he was suggesting, but his consuming desire overrode my inhibitions. "I keep some in the nightstand," I said, pointing with my eyes. "The lube's under the bed."
Barry snickered. "For those sudden midnight urges, eh? Good man." In a flash he had gathered the necessary equipment together and was carefully rolling a condom over my cock. He stroked lube onto it, then reached behind himself. When he was done he raised himself over my prone body, took hold of my sheathed cock and guided it into the cleft behind his balls. I felt a pressure that increased almost to the point of pain, then a sudden, squeezing warmth. Barry's face contorted with momentary pain and he stopped moving.
"You okay?" I asked him.
He nodded, managing a smile. After a moment he began to bend his knees, lowering himself toward my body. I raised my head, watching my cock disappear inside him. The sensation was indescribable--I'd never felt anything like the velvety smooth pressure and heat that surrounded my organ. I felt his butt pressing against my pubic bone and realized I was all the way in.
I looked up at Barry's face. His eyes were closed, his mouth open, his expression one of rapt ecstasy. Again I felt the shock of revelation. There was no doubt he was enjoying this as much, if not more, than me. He leaned forward, grabbing and stroking my chest with the palms of his hands as he rocked back and forth.
"Fuck that's good," he said softly. I made some noise of assent. Barry opened his eyes and smiled at me. He raised his body so that my cock partially emerged, then brought himself down in one quick motion, taking it all the way back in. Simultaneous grunts of pleasure came from both of us.
"You like that?"
Without waiting for my answer, he began to move his hips so that my cock slid in and out of his rectum. One strong hand grabbed his own cock and began to jack it as he used mine. Barry's asshole was far tighter than anything my dick had ever been in before. Expertly he worked muscles somewhere inside, squeezing and rubbing my pole until I was on the verge of shooting. With that odd telepathy he had, Barry slowed his motions then, opened his eyes and looked at me again.
"Not yet, buddy. Let's turn over."
I realized what he meant as he slid a hand under my back and urged me up. He turned onto his back, taking me with him, until I was lying on top of his body, my cock still inside him, his knees against his chest and his calves hooked over my shoulders. Barry grinned mischievously, grabbed my head and planted a quick kiss on my lips.
"Do your thing, straight boy. Fuck me."
I began to thrust, quickly increasing my pace until I was drilling his hole. The harder I fucked him the more Barry egged me on, chanting a litany of obscenities while he fisted his own leaking cock underneath my driving body.
"C'mon, fucker, give it to me. Fuck that hole. Give me that hot load in my man cunt. Fuck me. Fuck me."
"Gonna
," I said through gritted teeth. "Do it. Do it now, fucker."
"Oh, yes, oh yes, YES--" I lunged forward as if to split Barry in two as the orgasm boiled up from my balls, shouting wordlessly at the top of my lungs as I delivered what felt like a quart of
through my cock into the rubber inside him. Dimly I was aware of Barry shouting too, his hand moving frantically between us, hot fluid spilling onto his stomach and matting the already sweaty hair. I clung to him like a drowning man in a hurricane. At last I started to catch my breath and my body sagged down onto his, just as it had in the shower. My head hit the pillow and I opened my eyes.
I lifted my upper body and looked down at him, then at myself. Here I was, lying with a man bent double underneath me, my cock buried in his ass. My body was sticky and fragrant with his sweat and
. For quite a while my body had been doing all the talking for me, but now my mind began to try and take back control. "You okay, Sean?"
Barry must have sensed something of what I was thinking, because he added, "Don't think. Just feel. How do you feel?"
I closed my eyes and obeyed. After a while I opened them and said, "I feel--good."
Barry smiled up at me. "So do I. Except my legs are cramping. Let me up, will you?"
I got him some old shorts of mine to wear, but my shirts were not going to fit him. Barry shrugged. "It's only a few blocks back to the track. Got anything I could wear on my feet?"
The rain had stopped and we walked down damp streets, water dripping from the leaves on the trees and the clean scent of storm-washed air around us. Barry strode bare-chested next to me, an pair of my old sandals on his feet, his wet clothes and shoes in a bundle under one arm. I cast a sidelong glance at him. I had held this man in my arms, kissed him and made love to him, possessed him as I had my girlfriend. It seemed unreal.
We stood by our respective cars at the track and chatted briefly, just as if it had been any other day we had gone running.
"See you Monday morning?" he asked.
Involuntarily I hesitated. "Uh--can I call you? I need to check." He shook his head and sighed. Something in his expression made me bridle.
"What?"
"Yeah, you do that." He turned and got into his car, leaving me standing there, staring after him.
"You pissed me off. I didn't think you were going to call," Barry explained a few days later. We were lying in my upstairs bedroom. The front that had brought the rain the past weekend had passed, and the days had been brilliant, the nights cool and clear.
"Well, I did."
"Yep, you did. I should've known you'd surprise me. You have from the beginning, you know." He ran a hand over my stomach. I shivered at his touch.
"Why?"
"I thought you'd be a much tougher nut to crack, if you'll pardon the expression. Even though I could tell you wanted it."
"You could?"
He laughed. "Sure. Your eyes were all over me from the very first time we saw each other at the track. Otherwise I wouldn't have said anything to you. I don't usually go after straight guys. I was surprised as heck when you said you had a girlfriend."
"Really?" I thought about what he had just said. Barry had picked up on signals I hadn't even known I was sending. What did this say about my relationship with Patti? For the moment I pushed those thoughts away.
"Really. Then, when I came on to you last weekend and you were so into it. I figured you'd go on a big guilt trip after it was over and I'd never see you again."
"I don't do that to people."
"Well, I'm sure glad you didn't do it to me. One taste of this baby wouldn't have been enough." He took hold of my cock, which, despite having shot a healthy load very recently began to stir again.
I sighed and stretched. "I'd never thought I'd say this, but I love the taste of yours too."
He looked at me intently. "You ready for it tonight?" I hesitated. Barry had made it clear that he wasn't just a "bottom"--a word whose new meaning I had learned from him--but wanted to fuck me as well. At first I couldn't even imagine a man's cock up my ass. But looking at him take me into his body, his face when I was driving into him, hearing his ecstatic cries when he came with my cock inside him--I had had to admit to myself that I wanted to know what it felt like.
I said, "Yes."
Barry grinned. "Good man. First fluff me up." He had taught me that word as well, and I set to work on his cock, relaxing my throat so I wouldn't choke on its impressive length. Barry's sighs and murmurs of "that's good" told me I was doing okay. Soon enough it was standing at its full length, hard as steel. I got a condom and sheathed him, then lubricated both him and me. Finally the moment of truth had arrived. I put my feet on either side of his body and squatted down toward his cock, hanging on to one of shoulders for balance.
Barry smiled encouragement. "Take it slow. I'll help you."
I felt the tip touch my hole and shivered. Gingerly I descended, my thighs trembling with the strain of holding myself up, and felt my sphincter start to give under the pressure. Suddenly it gave way and the head of his cock slid in. I felt a sharp pain and cried out. I tried to rise up off of him, but Barry had anticipated this and his hands gripped my hips firmly, keeping me impaled on his rod. He shook his head, smiling.
"You're not getting away that easy. Just stay there."
"But--"
"Just stay there. Try to relax."
It wasn't easy to stay in that squatting position, and my legs were quickly getting fatigued. Barry had counted on this. Soon there was nothing I could do but give in and let my body slowly sink downward. To my utter surprise there was no more pain, only warm fullness as his flesh penetrated deeper into me. In a moment my full weight was down on him. I let out a sigh of astonished delight.
"How's it feel?"
"Incredible," I gasped. He laughed.
"I thought you'd like it."
I moved my hips experimentally and drank in the new sensations that coursed through my body. As I rode his dick Barry rose up off the bed and took me into his arms, so that I was cradled in his lap. We kissed, slow and long.
"Oh Sean," Barry whispered in my ear. "You're so hot."
He pushed me down, changing our positions, until I was on my back on the bed and he was above me. His eyes never left my face as he began to thrust into me, at first slowly and gently, gradually fucking me harder and faster until he was slamming into my body, drawing a grunt from my lungs at every impact.
He took my cock and stroked it until it was rock-hard and ready to shoot for the second time that evening, then kissed me again. That sent me over the edge. My cries were muffled by his mouth clamped on mine as I shot my load onto my stomach. I heard incoherent sounds emerge from his throat and knew that he was
ming as well. We finally broke apart, still gasping for air.
"Congratulations," Barry said. "You're no longer a virgin."
"What do you mean? I lost it a long time ago."
"Sean, think about it. Men can lose their virginity twice."
Somehow that struck me as funny and I started laughing helplessly. I couldn't stop. Barry laughed too though I'm not sure he knew what the joke was.
"For a straight guy, you're an awful lot of fun," he said.
Looking back, it's funny, but I never once felt any guilt during that week. Of course I was kidding myself, but at that point I didn't even feel as though I were cheating on Patti. After all, I wasn't with another woman.
I even had idle thoughts, absurd thoughts, that I could somehow make a life with Patti and still see Barry too. I was living in a dream world that week. I shouldn't have been surprised when it all came crashing down.
Patti had been pretty short with me before she left and I didn't know exactly when she was coming back from her trip. As of Saturday night I still hadn't heard anything from her. I figured she might call sometime during the coming week. I told Barry to come over on Sunday morning, our day off from running, and we'd go get some breakfast.
Promptly at ten o'clock I heard someone knocking at the kitchen door.
"Where's your car?" I asked him.
"Left it at the track and jogged over here. I actually just did a short run. Feeling full of energy today." He took me in his arms and kissed me. He was damp with perspiration, radiating body heat. It only took that much for my body to respond and I pressed harder against him.
"Mmm, looks like I'm not the only one with a lot of energy this morning." His hands were sliding underneath my shorts. "No underwear-- I like that." He knelt, pulled my erect cock out and took it in his mouth. I closed my eyes and caressed his head. His hands squeezed my ass cheeks. He let go of my cock and buried his face in my pubic hair.
"Damn, you get me so hot." He reached down and from somewhere in his shorts he pulled a foil-wrapped object out and waved it up at me, waggling his eyebrows playfully . "I brought this. Just in case you wanted to have a quick one before breakfast."
"Want to go upstairs?" I was powerless to resist him.
He shook his head. "Turn around and bend over."
The stove was installed in an island in the middle of the kitchen. I braced myself against it. Behind me rough hands pulled at my scanty clothing. The sweat shorts I was wearing hit the floor and his hands pushed my t-shirt up to my armpits. I heard him fumbling behind me with the condom wrapper, tearing it open, quickly unrolling it onto himself and spitting onto it. I wasn't sure how it was going to feel without any more lube than that but I wanted him so badly at that moment it didn't matter.
I felt the blunt head of his cock at my back door, and before I knew it he had shoved it open and entered me. My head snapped back and I screamed at the burning pain--he wasn't being nearly as gentle as the first time. I writhed, trying to get away, but he had me pinned against the counter with his weight and his bodybuilder's arms.
"Shh," he whispered in my ear. "Don't fight it."
He thrust with his hips again and I let out a second agonized cry, desperately trying to accommodate him. A warmth began to rise from deep inside me and cut through the hurt. My protests subsided to short gasps and I dropped my head, my senses overwhelmed by Barry's cock surging through me, irresistible and unstoppable. At last I felt his body press up against mine.
"That's it. Take it all, baby," Barry crooned behind me.
Still a bit peeved by his rough entry, I looked back at him and snapped, "What choice do I have?"
At that he grinned and said, "None," slamming into me for emphasis and drawing an "Oof!" of mixed pain and pleasure from me. There was more pleasure than pain, though, and I bowed my head and gave in to his conquering body as he began to fuck me at his leisure, drawing his cock out slowly and thrusting it home, raising himself or bending his knees to plow into me at different angles, finally settling into a steady, hammering rhythm of lust. He grasped my cock and began to stroke it in rhythm with his thrusts and I knew I couldn't hold out much longer. Sure enough, in a minute guttural moans rose out of me at the same time as
shot from my cock held in his pumping hand and ran down the enameled cabinet doors in thick splashes. As I began to come back to earth I opened my eyes, which had been squeezed tightly shut, and blinked until they came back into focus. Suddenly my heart stopped.
Patti's face was staring in through the open kitchen window, her features a mask of horror. As our eyes met she disappeared. I heard footsteps running down the driveway.
"Jesus Christ!"
I wrenched myself off of Barry, pulled up my shorts and ran out the door after her, calling her name. I caught up with her on the street, as she was trying to unlock her car. To this day I don't know why she hadn't come up the driveway in it, the way she usually did. Maybe it was fate.
"Patti, wait."
She turned, and I could see she was crying. She was holding a gift-wrapped box in one hand.
"Get away from me."
"Patti, please."
"GET AWAY!" she shrieked, and threw her package at me. I dodged it, and heard the crash of something shattering on the driveway. She got her car door open, got in, and started the engine. A roar, a shriek of rubber on pavement and she was gone.
I stood in the street looking after her, sick to my stomach. Finally I turned back, picked up the box she had thrown at me and slowly opened it. Inside were the shattered remains of a brightly colored piece of crockery, some souvenir she'd brought back as a present for me from wherever she'd been.
Footsteps sounded. Barry had come outside. He stood before me now, disheveled and beautiful. The picture had no effect on me whatsoever. Funny how things could turn completely around in an instant. It had happened twice in a little over a week.
"I didn't know she was coming," he said.
I stared down at the ruined gift. "Neither did I, obviously."
"I'm sorry. Anything I can do?"
I shook my head.
"Guess I'd better go."
I didn't watch as he began to walk down the street, back to the track.
She wouldn't answer the phone when I called. Damn that Caller ID.
A week went by, then two. I had to see her and somehow make things right. Suddenly the week with Barry seemed like a bad dream. I was a normal guy, damn it, not one of those fags or queers. I had a good job and a wonderful girl I was going to marry. The life I had planned was about to slip out of my grasp and I couldn't let that happen.
I left my own job half an hour early, drove to her office building, and waited in the parking lot for her to come out. I was hoping she'd be alone, but when she did appear, she was with a guy, a sandy blond with a buzz cut, dressed like a dweeb in a short-sleeved shirt with a necktie. That made me mad. I stepped out of the car and walked rapidly toward them.
"Patti," I called. Patti had been smiling and chatting with her companion. As soon as she caught sight of me she stopped in her tracks, and her face darkened.
"Sean, what are you doing here?"
"Patti, could I talk to you?"
"She doesn't want to talk to you, bud, can't you see that?" her companion said, his jaw rising. I ignored him and looked straight into her eyes.
"Patti, please. Just for a minute."
Something flickered in her face. She turned to her co-worker. "Mike, it's okay."
"You sure?" he asked, still staring at me, unwilling to give in.
"Please, Mike, just go. I'll be fine."
He left, casting a baleful glance at me over his shoulder, and Patti faced me.
"Well?"
"Can't we go somewhere?"
She shook her head. "This is as good a place as any."
"Then walk with me." Unwillingly she fell into step beside me as we started down the sidewalk. There was a concrete bench at the first corner and Patti sat on it, holding herself very straight and looking straight ahead.
I perched beside her. "Patti, let me explain."
She wheeled around to face me, her eyes blazing. "Explain? I know what I saw, Sean. I'm not stupid."
I floundered. "I know, I know. I--Patti, all I can say is it will never happen again. I promise."
She closed her eyes and sighed. Then she shook her head. "I wish I could believe you. But--I don't."
"Why not, damn it? Why can't you believe it was just a stupid mistake? He--that guy, he talked me into it. He forced me."
A ghost of a smile appeared on her face. "You? No one could force you into anything, Sean." Her expression clouded again. "I was standing there for quite a while before you saw me."
I felt sick. "Why didn't you say something?"
She shook her head violently. "I was too shocked. I opened my mouth and no sound came out."
The image of her horrified face rose before me.
"I couldn't stop looking. I was looking at your face. Your expression. He was--doing that to you and you were in heaven. I'd never seen you look like that when we were making love. Not ever."
She stared ahead again. "I'm not--you know, prejudiced. I have gay and bi friends. I think everyone should be free to live as they please. But, I don't want a lover or--a husband--like that. I'm just not that open-minded." She tried to smile as her eyes filled. "Call me old-fashioned."
I sat silent. Patti rose, dabbing at her eyes. "Goodbye, Sean."
Her footsteps receded into the distance.
As if things weren't bad enough, it had become clear that Barry was avoiding me. He left me messages canceling our dates to run together, saying he was sick. I kept getting his voice mail both at home and at the office. One day, while I was on my way to run some errands, I saw him coming toward me, jogging in the bike path along the other side of the street. I raised my hand in greeting and honked my horn. I was sure our eyes met, but he kept right on running without the slightest sign he'd noticed me.
It was a month after the day Patti had walked in on us when he finally called me at the office. "Sean, I'm sorry I've been out of touch. Can I meet you somewhere after work?"
A few hours later we sat in a booth in a noisy, impersonal chain restaurant along the highway.
"Sorry I haven't called," he said. He stared down at his beer.
"It's okay," I said, pretending a casualness I didn't feel. "I know you've been busy. I'm glad you called."
"I have some news. You know the economy's been bad--well, the company's eliminating my position."
"Tough luck, Barry," I said, really sympathetic. "If there's anything I can do--"
"No," he cut me off. "Actually, it's not so bad. They have an opening in their Dallas branch and they offered it to me. I'll have to take a pay cut and they can't cover moving costs, but hey, it's a job. I accepted their offer."
"Oh." I was stunned but tried to keep my cool. "So, that's too bad. No more running in the rain, eh?" I tried to smile. "Dallas isn't that far. I can come up on weekends, twice a month, at least--"
"Sean." His eyes met mine at last. "Look, I'm thinking in terms of us just being friends from now on."
I gave up then and just sat, staring at him. Barry started explaining then, which only made things worse.
"That day your girlfriend saw us--that weirded me out. I never meant for it to go this far. It's just too much for me to deal with right now."
"There's no girlfriend any more, Barry. You think there would be after what she saw? We're history."
"We both need space," he insisted. "We need to step back and take a deep breath, think things out. Away from each other."
He was gazing steadily at me with that movie-idol face. The thought that he might actually believe what he was saying was the only thing that kept me from throwing my Diet Coke at him.
"Well, fine." I rose. "Thanks for having the guts to say it to my face." I tossed a couple of bills on the table and turned to go, just like in the movies. I'd always wanted to do that.
"Sean." I looked back. "I'll call you once I get settled, okay?"
"I won't hold my breath." I left before he could answer, pushed open the door and strode rapidly to my car in the parking lot. Something was wrong, though--my key wouldn't go in the front door lock. I was cursing under my breath before I looked in the window and saw a pack of cigarettes on the front seat. I didn't smoke. This wasn't my car.
I stood there, willing myself not to look up to check whether Barry had seen the conclusion of my grand exit.
It was a couple of months later. Barry hadn't called, not that I had thought he would. I was flipping through the Sunday paper at home and caught a glimpse of a familiar face in a photograph. I stopped and turned back until I found the picture in the Society section. Sure enough, it was Patti, pretty as ever, with a man who seemed familiar.
They looked relaxed and happy. The paragraph below announced the engagement of Patricia Richards and Michael Fulton. I remembered Patti's co-worker in the parking lot that day after work. It was him.
I worked up the nerve to call her one last time a few days after I saw the announcement. My hand was trembling as I held the receiver. Let it be her machine, I thought. I could leave a casual congratulations and have done with it.
"Hello?" Patti's voice said.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
"Hello? Sean?"
"Patti," I finally managed.
"Hi, Sean," she said. I could read nothing in her tone.
"How did you know it was me?"
"Caller ID."
"Well, I'm surprised you answered, then." She didn't respond to my weak attempt at a joke, so I hurried on. "Listen, I won't keep you long. Just wanted to say congratulations on your engagement. I'm sure Mike's a wonderful guy."
A pause, then she said, "Well, thank you, Sean. It's nice of you to call. I mean that."
She didn't say anything about inviting me to the wedding. Had I expected her to? Somehow I had to say something else before I let her go.
"Patti." A lump rose in my throat and I had to struggle to get the words out. "I also wanted to say... I'm sorry." Silence at the other end.
"Sorry for what I put you through. You didn't deserve it."
"Sean," she finally said. "Could I ask you something?" Her voice was shaking now, no doubt about it.
"What?"
"This... thing." She couldn't bring herself to use the word. "With the other man. It just happened, right?"
"What do you mean?"
"It... it wasn't going on all the time we were together?"
"No," I said as firmly as I could. "I would never have done that to you, Patti. You've got to believe me."
"Okay," she said, her voice a little brighter. A pause. "Are you, like, going with guys now?"
Something lurched in my chest, and I realized that I was on the verge of tears. "I--don't know, Patti. I don't know anything. Except that I'm alone and I'd give anything to be with you again." I knew it was hopeless but I had to say it.
Silence at the other end, then, "Sean?"
"Yes?" I could barely get the word out.
"I think about you a lot. I want you to be happy."
This was too much. I choked out, "Bye," and hung up the phone before I lost it.
I wasn't telling Patti the truth, or not the whole truth, at any rate. I did miss her terribly--her eyes, her laugh, her willingness to listen, her warm, fragrant presence when we were in the car or at the movies.
But late at night, alone in my bed, it wasn't her body I wanted next to mine. It was a hard male chest I felt pressing down on me in my dreams, rough stubble raking across my cheeks as lips pressed against mine and an urgent tongue darted into my mouth. I saw Barry's steely blue eyes boring into me as he drove his cock into me, splitting my body and soul wide open.
Once I awoke in the middle of the night, crying out, to find that my body and the sheets were covered with sticky, cooling fluid. In my dream Barry and I hadn't even been fucking, just running around the track at the high school on a cool and cloudy morning, good buddies out for a run, happy and carefree. I lay, staring into the dark emptiness of my bedroom. Finally I rose to clean up the mess.
The summer days passed slowly by. One day I came home after getting a quick dinner at the barbecue place near my house. It had been cloudy and humid all day, and as it grew dark the clouds became more threatening.
Sitting in a chair in my office, I paged through the messages on my answering machine, hardly listening to most of them. The last one started. I recognized the voice and sat up, alert.
"Sean, it's Barry. Sorry I haven't called. Seems like I'm always apologizing." A short, embarrassed laugh. "Anyway, things are going okay but--I miss you. Call me back if you feel like it."
He said his number. I slumped back down in my chair as the computerized voice from the machine informed me there were no more messages.
As I sat watching TV a bit later, I saw the flash of lightning outside my window and heard the rumble of thunder. In a moment the patter of rain sounded on my roof and quickly increased to the steady drumming of a massive downpour. Minutes passed and the deluge showed no sign of abating.
I was alone and the only light in my house was from the TV. Impulsively I turned it off. Now I was surrounded by darkness and the sound of the rain, punctuated now and then by the abrupt glare of a lightning strike and the deep, rolling rumble of thunder. "The gods are bowling in heaven," my father used to joke.
I went to the back door and opened it. A cool, moist breeze struck me in the face, the smell of fresh dirt and the peculiar odor of storm-charged air wafting into my nostrils. Rain was falling in steady rivulets off the awning. I unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it over my head, then pulled off the rest of my clothes and my shoes. When I was naked I stepped out onto the wooden deck. It was dark and no one was going to see me. I raised my head and opened my mouth, letting the rainwater pelt my face and run over my body.
Suddenly a memory rose unbidden in my brain. It was a broiling hot summer day when I was a boy of eight or so, playing with my best friend Russ in the back yard of my family house in a small town in West Texas, running through the sprinkler that my father had thoughtfully set up for us. My parents had gone off on some errand, warning us to stay in the yard. Obsessed as we were with our activities, we didn't notice the cloudburst coming until the first crack of thunder sounded loud above our heads. Then the rain began to fall in large, heavy drops.
I started for the house, but Russ said, "Why are you going in?"
"We're going to get wet," I started to say, then realized how silly that was, even before Russ laughed. Then a mischievous grin spread across his face. Even as a little boy I thought him handsome.
"Let's play a new game," he said. "Greek Olympic runner."
"How do you play that?" I asked, puzzled.
"Well," Russ replied, "You have to take off your bathing suit."
"Why?" I said, sensing danger.
"Cause, stupid, the ancient Greeks ran without anything on when they raced. Don't you know anything?" He added, placatingly, "Don't worry. I'm going to do it too."
This piqued my interest. "Okay," I said. "You first."
"No, you," he said immediately. "Okay then, let's strip together. First one to touch the back fence wins. Ready, set, go!"
Before I lost my nerve I quickly pulled down my suit and pulled it off. The rain was pouring down around us and the sprinkler, ridiculously, was still going. Russ peeled his trunks down and flung them high into the air, letting out a whoop as he began to dash across the yard. I pursued him, feeling the rush of air between my legs, reveling in the glorious freedom of running naked, watching Russ's butt muscles pumping as he ran toward the fence, the water pelting down on us both. We might have been struck by lightning in that instant but I wouldn't have cared.
As I stood there in the dark, that day from my childhood faded and blended seamlessly into a much more recent memory, the Saturday afternoon early that spring when Barry and I had come back to my house laughing, out of breath and soaked to the skin. I thought of how every cord of muscle in his back had been visible through the soaked cotton of his T-shirt, how the fabric of his shorts had clung to his buttocks. We had gone inside to dry off, and then my life had turned upside down.
My hands clenched into fists. By now I was trembling violently with cold and my teeth were chattering, but I took no notice, aware only of the hot pain inside me that threatened to burst my chest. Tears started out of the corners of my tightly closed eyes, running down my cheeks and momentarily warming the skin on my face.
I dropped my head forward, my body collapsed and I sank to the deck, the wet wood icy against my forearms and knees. A sob escaped me, then another. After the third I opened my mouth in a wail as a storm of grief shook my body. The indifferent rain continued to fall, and another rumble of thunder shook the earth. No one saw me in my cold misery. No one heard me crying.
