Date: Tue, 13 May 2008 12:46:01 -0400
From: rbrown001@cox.net
Subject: CHANCE, THE AFTERMATH, PART SIX

     Hours after he'd gone, I still couldn't get what we'd done out of my
mind.  Everything seemed somehow different to me or, to some extent,
strange, even my apartment.  I walked through it several times, looking for
something, some evidence that he'd been there.  I felt silly, but smiled at
myself, knowing no one would ever know this.

     Going into the bedroom, I looked down at the crumpled sheets, images
of us flooding my mind. Leaning over, I started smoothing them out, but
stopped, picking up some the black pubic hairs that stuck to the bottom
sheet. I had no way of knowing his from mine, but the longer ones were
probably his. I'd trimmed mine into a neat package that seemed to appeal to
women.

      Lying across the bed, I rolled slowly against the mattress, winding
up at the foot of the bed, my head hanging over the side as I stared at the
floor, feeling a little despondent.

     Then, rousing myself, I lifted my body up off the bed, catching sight
of what looked like Jockey shorts, rumpled up and probably kicked halfway
under the bed. Leaning over, I picked them up, soon realizing they were not
mine. They had to be Chance's.

     Looking at them in my hand, turning them inside out, I moved my eyes
over the stretched, empty pouch. Stroking its soft, cotton lining with my
fingers, I laid back against the bed, holding it to my face, moving it
across my lips and closing my eyes as I caught a faint scent of his crotch,
but only for a moment.

     Getting up, I put them in the back of a dresser drawer and, finishing
making the bed, put on my running shorts and ran for the better part of an
hour, coming back shortly before dark, tired, but still feeling at loose
ends.

     Rummaging in the fridge for something to eat, I took out a quart of
milk, going out on the balcony, emptying it as I gazed out over the river
in the distance. Then looking at the lights in the direction of Chance'
apartment, I realized what I had to do, although I'd told myself all
afternoon I wasn't going to.

     When Chance opened the door, I was immediately struck by the look on
his face, as if it were Halloween and I'd come by in a harem girl outfit.

     "Well, hi," he said in a forced, phony voice.  "Good to see you.  Come
on in."  I hesitated for a moment, wondering what was the matter with
him. "Please, come in," he repeated.  "We're just sitting here, talking."

     Going into the room, I immediately saw Jeff and Julie sitting on the
sofa.  When Julie saw me, she jumped up and throwing her arms around me,
gave me a big hug.

     "Lover," she exclaimed. "Been wondering where you were." I hugged her
back, looking up at Chance, who'd closed the door and was looking at the
floor. Jeff also stood up, smiling, but just offered me his hand.  I let go
of Julie with one hand and shook it.

     "What's up, guy?" he said, "I've been wondering where you were also."

     Julie led me over to the sofa and the three of us sat down, her in the
middle. I'm not sure what Chance was doing, but eventually he sat down too,
all three of them looking at me.

     "Yes, well," I replied, smiling, "I've been busy, doing the same old
thing, I guess," looking at Chance for help.

     "I've been helping him study for the real estate exam," Chance said,
in a low, confident voice. "We're going to make a realtor out of him yet,
not that I need the competition."  We all laughed.

     "Oh," Julie asked. "Are you a realtor?  When Jeff suggested we stop
by, he didn't say what you did."

     "Yes, I've been working here almost six years now," he replied. Then
changing the subject, he asked if anyone would like something to drink. I
just sat there, but Jeff said they couldn't stay long. They were on their
way to have dinner.

     "Say, why don't you two join us?" he asked. Chance and I looked at
each other, waiting for the other to reply.

     "Well," Chance said, finally. "That would be nice, but I think that
exam is coming up soon. Is that right?" he asked, looking at me. I nodded
my head, trying to look disappointed. Then Julie's cell phone rang.

     "Excuse me," she said, looking at the number. "This is a business call
I need to take." Jeff suggested she go into the kitchen, and Chance showed
her where it was.  Jeff and I looked at each other.

     "So," he began in a low voice, "what the hell's going on?" I shrugged,
denying I knew what he was talking about.  "Sure," he replied,
sarcastically. "I didn't think you even liked Chance. You said you didn't
and got all huffy because I introduced him to you. Yet here you are
studying with him for a real estate exam?  What kind of crap is that?"

     Rapidly getting more than a little pissed at his behavior, I was just
about to light into him when Chance came back in the room.

     "What kind of crap is what?" he asked, looking toward the
kitchen. Neither Jeff nor I said anything. "Well," he continued, "whatever
problem you've got, this is not the time to discuss it."

     None of us said anything then until Julie came out of the kitchen,
telling Jeff she needed to stop by the office on the way to dinner. They
left shortly after that, leaving Chance and me with many unanswered
questions.

     "You want a beer, or something stronger?" he asked. "After that
surprise visit, I sure do." Nodding my head, I followed him into the
kitchen. "I don't care if he brings friends over, but I'd like to know the
score before he does. You know what I mean? I guess you know her." he
asked.

     "Yes, she's a friend of Jeff's and mine," I replied, "but I don't know
what you mean by the score."

     "I mean is she a gay friend, or what?"  he asked.

     "No, she's not gay. I don't have any gay friends. I don't even think
of Jeff as a gay friend.  I mean, basically."

     "Oh, yes," he said, nodding.  "I forgot."

     He handed me my drink. I walked into the living room and sat on the
sofa.  He came in shortly after that, sitting next to me.  We sat in
silence, except for the music on the stereo in the bedroom.

     "So, do you see Jeff very much?" I asked.

     "No," he replied, shaking his head, "and you?" I also shook my
head. "Are you still letting him . . .  do you, sometimes?"

     "No," I replied forcefully, "of course not."

     "Why?" he asked. "You're still friends, aren't you?  Doesn't he want
to?"

     "Yes, but I don't," I shot back. "That's why."

     "Well, don't get angry at me," he replied. "That's fine. I'm glad you
don't want to."  I hesitated for a moment.

     "That's probably why he was still mad at me just then. I caved in to
his pressure once and tried to let him right after you and I were alone in
his apartment, but I couldn't go through with it."

     "Why not?" he asked, "if you don't mind telling me."

     "Oh, I don't know," I replied, and then stopped myself. "No, that's
not true.  I do know.  I wanted it to mean something. I wanted it to be
you." I stared at the floor, feeling his arm move around my back, pulling
me into him.

     I was a little stiff at first, but soon relaxed against the warmth of
his body, his hand rubbing my chest inside my T-shirt as I leaned my head
against the back of the sofa. Then I felt his lips inside my neck,
alternately nipping and kissing my skin.

     I leaned my head against his, feeling him turn and, facing me, press
his lips against mine. I returned his kiss, slowly at first, holding his
bottom lip between my own until, feeling him guide my body down on the
sofa, I felt our lips become tightly locked, sucking firmly one against the
other's, our emotions rising rapidly.

     "Let's go in the bedroom?" I heard him suggest softly, pulling
slightly off my lips, but then pressing against them once more before I
could respond, his hands pulling at my clothes.

     I wanted to, of course. Everything in me was pushing me in that
direction, but still I hesitated, something holding me back. This was so
different from anything I'd dealt with before. In a way, I wanted this more
than anything, but at the same time, was afraid of something I didn't
understand, but knew was powerful.

     "What's wrong?" he asked as I pulled away, pushing against his
chest. "What can I do to make it easier for you?  I'll do it.  Please, just
say it."

    "Oh," I replied, struggling with myself, "I don't know. I don't know."
Then leaning up on one elbow, I asked, "Can we maybe just stay here this
time, not get into bed?"

     "Sure, sure," he murmured, kissing my face, "if that's what you want."
Then, looking into my eyes, he said, "Where we go, or even what we do is
not important to me, as long as we're together. But actually, I only meant
to lie across the bed and talk. You said you wanted to."

     Feeling my emotions taking over, I pulled his face into mine and
pressed my lips against his, trying to shake the emotion, but only
intensifying it.  Sensing that in me, he pressed his body against mine,
holding me tightly as he rubbed my back, lightly kissing my face and neck
until I settled down.

     Relaxing his arms around me, allowing me to lean back against the
sofa, I started to undo my shorts, thinking that's what he wanted, but he
stopped me, holding my hand steady against my chest, looking down into my
eyes.

     "You look better now," he said quietly. "You feel better too?" I
nodded my head, looking up at him, thinking how handsome he was. "And
you're okay with my affection?" he continued.

     "Sure, that's not the problem, I think. The real problem is me."

     "Oh?" he replied, smiling, but looking confused. "And what is wrong
with me, in your opinion? How is he giving you problems?" I looked up at
him, wondering how I could explain to him what I didn't understand myself.

     "I don't really know," I responded. "Maybe that's the real problem."

     Waiting for a moment, he said, "I think you know what's troubling you,
but yes, it's hard to explain." Then, sliding off into the floor, he leaned
back against the front of the sofa, resting his head on my thigh.

     "Just start," he suggested, "anywhere. Say the first thing that comes
into your mind and keep talking. When I don't understand, I'll ask
questions."

     Sliding my fingers through his hair, I began to twist it around them,
eventually starting to talk. I told him about sex with Julie and some other
girls, I went into more detail about how Jeff and I'd gotten started doing
things and how I'd wound up with him and Jeff that first night. I even told
him how I'd felt about him at first and was pretty honest about why I
thought I'd reacted that way. He listened, or seemed to be. Finally, I
stopped.

     "I thought you were going to stop me if I said something you didn't
understand. Does all this make sense to you?" He sat up and, turning
around, leaned on the edge of the sofa.

     "For the most part," he replied. "You know, I knew what you thought of
me, almost from the first. But I didn't care. All I cared about was getting
hold of that big dick of yours.  Jeff had told me in the bar that you had
one and liked to use it.  I thought I knew your type.  But, I was wrong. I
just didn't know that until it was too late."

     "What do you mean, too late?" I asked. "And what kind of type did you
think I was?"  Chance could tell I was getting a bit testy.  He rubbed my
arm, looking into my eyes.

     "Look. I thought you were gay, a player, of course.  Based on what
Jeff had said, the place you were in and all, what else could I think? I
treated you like the player I thought you were. It was too late to change
that when I realized you weren't. I thought you knew what you were doing
and wanted it. I was more than willing to give it to you so I could get
what I wanted too, as I just said."

     "Yes, my big dick, I think you said. So that's all you ever wanted
from me, to amuse yourself, playing around with my dick, like a few other
people in my life." Chance stared at me, I think trying to figure out if I
were teasing or not. I wasn't.

      "I can't understand why the size of my dick means anything, but I
guess it does, to some people. Guys have stared at it ever since I was a
boy, some of them with more than curiosity, especially as it grew even
bigger when I became a teenager."

     "No. Wait," he interrupted. "Hold on just a minute. I never said
that's all I`ve ever wanted from you. I said at first that's what I was
after, at first. That changed."

     "When did that change?" I asked. "Certainly not that night or later
when we ran into each other at Jeff's apartment." You even said you wanted
to take Jeff's place so you could suck it regularly. He thought a moment,
then shrugged, apparently giving up.

     "You know," he replied, thoughtfully. "I don't know. I never really
thought about it. I still like it, of course, but no, the size of your
dick's not really important any more. It's just a part of you. You're all I
want now. But, hey," he exclaimed as a quick aside, "I didn't intend to
admit that, just yet."

     We looked at each other, watching as a smile gradually crept into the
other's face. "Sorry," he said, lifting his hands up like a repentant
sinner. "Guess I'm just a sucker for guys with holes in their socks."

     "And if they're also hung," I said, trying not to laugh, "that makes
them even more attractive?"

     "Hey," he exclaimed, his arms in the air, "so kill me.  I'm only
human."

     At that point, we both started to laugh, eventually leaning against
each for support. "Okay, okay," I conceded, trying to calm us both
down. "As I said, I don't understand this gay thing.  But I'm trying to."

     "Yeah, well," he replied, looking in my eyes, "maybe you will, in
time."

     "Yeah, well, maybe I will," I responded, turning my head as he hugged
me. "But now, let's go eat somewhere. I'm hungry."

      Shortly after that, we went to a pizza place down the street. He
drove. Then on the way back, he said, "Your place or mine?" I thought for a
moment, frowning.

     "How about if I said my place, for me. Your place, for you," I asked,
his face immediately falling in disappointment. "Well," I exclaimed, "I
can't play all weekend.  I've got so much homework yet to do for tomorrow."

     About that time we pulled up to my building.  Pulling over to the
curb, he stopped, leaving the car running.

     "All right," he nodded, "your place, for you . . . tonight. But
tomorrow night . . .  my place, for both of us.  Ok?" I looked over at him
in the dim light of the street lamp, wondering if I really had a choice.

     "Yeah," I replied, pausing as I got out of the car. "I'll send you an
email."


                                               rbrown@cox.net
                                                  Spring, 2008