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September

 

My lips slightly vibrated the slightest hum into Mitchell's cock as my hard-on released pulse after pulse of cum into his mouth. He attempted to swallow it, but at the same time he gripped my ass cheek digging in with his fingers. That was his signal that he was about to shoot. His fingernails gripped into my skin just to the point where anything further would have impaled me with pain. As it was, it was at the height of sensuality, and I prepared myself for him. Mitch's cum poured onto my tongue and the side of my mouth. I slightly moaned as if I had just popped a butterscotch candy in my mouth, and I had just experienced my first taste. When the last drops of his passion had oozed from his flesh, his fingers released their tight grip on my butt.

We didn't move. We stayed in that 69 position continuing to suckle on each other's anatomy with saliva-semen lubrication covering our receding erections. Seconds turned to minutes. I felt the breath from his nostrils waft over my testicles. Eventually, both of us flaccid, we rolled onto our backs.

Mitchell rotated his body and moved up next to me. We held each other.

"You've gotten bolder," he softly said. "I remember when you wouldn't even invite me over when Corey was staying with you. Now we sneak in these moments of intimacy when he is in the next room."

"We may be the quietest couple on the planet," I whispered. "I'm pretty sure he slept through the whole thing."

I looked at the clock. It was shortly after midnight. Corey had turned off the television at a quarter past 11. I felt confident he was out.

"It will be different in a couple months. Your house will be done. He will have his own room. It won't even be close to our room."

"Our room?" I said inquisitively. I said it so fast that Mitchell probably found it defensive.

"Well ... sure. I hope so." Mitchell turned on his side and looked directly into my face. "We've been seeing each other again for a few months now, Coop. You know I love you. You know I think you are the one for me. I want us to be a family again."

I wanted to feel the same. But I wasn't there, at least not 100%. I had loved being back with him. The sex was still great, I enjoyed his company. It all felt good, but that stupid wall was still there. When he cheated on me, it was as if it was made of stone. It was time for me to get past it. Or tell Mitch to move on. He at least deserved that.

"We'll still let time heal the wounds," I said, staring at the ceiling and not at him.

I felt awkward. We had just made love. It felt great. And now I was in a weird place. I needed to change the subject.

"I'm a bit concerned about the morning."

"The morning?" Mitchell asked.

"Yeah. Taking Corey to Joe might make me too uneasy."

"Because ..."

"I don't know. That's it. He mentioned it in the past. And I want him to accept me, all of me. I'd like him to meet my friends. You don't think it will be too weird, do you?"

"It's Sunday morning at a coffee shop. How freaky can it be?"

"Right. Yeah. However, there are some very edgy things to my world — our world — and I wouldn't want one facet of the gay community to freak him out and cause him to make blanket assumptions."

Mitch chuckled softly. "I doubt if we'll see a drag show or guys in eyeliner walking around with feather boas and pink thongs at the coffee shop."

That made me laugh.

"I get what you're saying, Coop. Yeah, we have some kinky things and some `acquired tastes' in the gay community, but don't think that stuff isn't out there in the heterosexual world. Sex brings out everything in every aspect of mankind."

"Maybe. I can't relate to outrageous extremes. I still like sex being a personal thing; a meaningful thing between two people."

This caused me to think about my evening with Emory again. My body philosophically withered into a fragile twig. You could have said the words "hypocritical liar" and the twig would have snapped.

Mitch reached for my dick, small at this point, and just held his fingers around it. "You mean everything to me," he said.

 

—

 

Corey looked out the window as we pulled into the gay part of town. My pulse was racing. I didn't know why. They were basically store fronts. A clothing store, a burger place, a Chinese restaurant, a few night clubs, a card store and Joe. Nothing was too outlandish. A couple of the displays in the clothing store windows were rather suggestive — tight and leathery — but nothing worse than a rock star would wear. I hoped he thought of it that way. I kept regular conversation going as we drove in, wanting it to feel light and casual. As it was Sunday, there was no problem parking.

Mitchell and I walked in with Corey. Mitchell commented that it had been some time for him being in Joe. I could see him looking around at the décor, trying to recall the last time. There were about five tables that had people. One single, two couples, a group of five (that had two women) and one where Emory was sitting. I had texted him earlier in the week to get a larger table. He had. His newspaper was spread out, but as his glance saw me walking in, he started folding it up. He gave us a smile.

"Emory, I'd like you to meet my son, Corey. Corey, this is my friend, Emory."

The two smiled at each other. Emory extended his hand, and Corey shook it politely.

"It's so nice to meet you, Corey. Cooper talks about you all the time — only good stuff, too."

Corey chuckled. "Thank you. It's nice to meet you."

"And this is Mitchell," I said.

"It's nice to finally meet you, too," Emory said. Mitch smiled back and shook Emory's hand.

I immediately felt like I was under both a spotlight and a microscope. I felt like everyone in the coffee shop was going to point at me and scream, "He had sex with Emory!" My breathing was off. I tried to regulate it and be as normal as possible. But when you try to act normal, you are not normal.

Mitchell went up to get us all coffee. Once he brought them back, I took Corey to the condiment counter. I explained the flavoring pumps, why there were so many kinds of sugar and why people preferred different types of milk and cream. He should have been a bit overwhelmed, but he gave his coffee a pump of French Vanilla and poured a little 2% milk in. He stirred it as we walked back to the table.

"Well?" I asked, after he took his first sip. "What do you think?"

"I've tasted coffee before, Dad," he said in a scolding-but-not-mean tone. "It's good."

Emory retold the story of him spilling coffee down my leg in February and how we became friends. He also talked to Corey about our trip, saying I had shared a few pictures. Corey talked about his favorite parts of our vacation. It was a common link that he could share with strangers.

Mitchell was a bit quieter than expected. Not that he had anything to be jealous about, but he and Emory seemed to get along fine. He would interject something from time to time, but it was usually short. Perhaps he let Corey do the talking. Mitch and I looked at each other, and I winked at him. Corey seemed to fit in fine here; nothing to worry about. Thankfully, Emory was the only one who knew about his birthday "gift." I didn't think Mitch would be understanding about that.

Brad stopped by. I was pleased to introduce my son. Brad could be a tad flamboyant at times — actually, most of the time. But he was sincerely polite to Corey. There was just enough to his personality that Corey could pick up on that Brad was obviously gay but nothing threatening.

"Can I bring him something on the house?" Brad offered. I winked and smiled in my nod of approval.

Two minutes later, Brad brought Corey a huge cinnamon roll. I slid a tip into his tight pocket. Brad patted my shoulder.

"Enjoy," he said as he walked away.

After a few bites, Corey said, "This is really good."

"Brad knows what he is doing. He would never serve anything he wasn't proud of."

"He likes to keep some calories on your father and me," Emory said.

Mitchell finally asked Emory about his work, and tales of retirement took place. Emory was only a week into it, but he had loved sleeping in during the past week. He woke up on his own at his "work time" a little early the first two days, but then started sleeping in later, he said.

Mitchell excused himself to the restroom. As he did, Laramie walked in. He saw me and headed our way. He had a look of surprise when he saw Corey.

"Wait. Who's this? Is this ..."

"Laramie, this is Corey, my son."

"How absolutely wonderful to meet you," he said, shaking Corey's hand, which was a touch sticky after the melted icing. "I ... I was expecting Mitch when you said you wanted me to meet someone special."

"Oh, Mitch is here, but I was actually talking about Corey. He's my world."

Corey gave a small smile at my comment. Laramie pulled up a chair. A minute later, Brad brought him his cappuccino. Laramie pulled out a credit card and handed it to Brad. Mitchell was returning to the table. As I introduced them, Laramie stood to shake Mitchell's hand.

"Call me Larry," he said with a firm grip on Mitchell's hand. "It's nice to finally meet you."

When conversation came around to the collision between Laramie and me, Corey laughed. "How much coffee is spilled around here?"

We all laughed. "Not a lot, but we've seen a spill or two."

"Honey, let me tell you," Brad said, walking up with a fresh pot. "I have a mop bucket prepared with fresh water at the beginning of every shift. You'd be surprised."

Corey smiled at him.

I was happy. There was nothing threatening here. Corey had met a group of gay men, and it seemed as normal as could be. It was a minor triumph I felt proud of.

 

—

 

My experience with Emory started to eat away at me again. There was an evening service, and for the first time in more than two years, I went to church. I don't know what I expected to prove by going, but it weighed on me. Most of the church members who went to the morning services didn't attend the evening ones. I did recognize a few faces. They were visibly startled and then regained composure to smile and nod. I could tell they wanted away from me.

I enjoyed the song service. When we attended as a family, I loved listening to Corey sing. I liked singing alongside him. I had never asked him if he still wanted to attend on the weekends when I had him.

The sermon was fine. There were some applicable points that would probably be good for me. More than anything I was just dealing with my lapse of judgement with Emory. Clearly, sex was a major part of my life now, but I didn't want to change who I was on the inside. That experience with him really was eye-opening. Plus it was supposed to be a so-called "gift" to him. But while all that was true, I still slept with someone I wasn't in love with. That continued to bother me.

I had no idea what God thought of me at this point in my life. Being in church, I felt very distanced from Him, but at the same time, I felt it easier to talk with Him. While the prayer being offered was about other things, I had a personal one with God. I wanted Him to forgive me, love me and to help me be a good person.

 

—

 

"Hi, I'm Cooper. I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Cooper," the group replied.

"I'm wrestling with some of my behaviors. As shocking to me as some of them can be at times, I find I'm happy. This paradox is pulling me in opposite directions. I feel I'm growing. I think I'm becoming the person I'm supposed to be, but I admired who I grew up to be, who I was. I'm not sure if I'm doing this well. Or right. Most people would look at my actions and say, `It's no big deal.' But it is to me. I want to be a good person. Just because something made me happy doesn't make it right. Right?

"The positive side is that none of these choices involve drinking. For that, I'm very happy.

"My son and I become closer all the time. At least I think we do. He's a young teenager, so ... I've been warned. But I think he's a great kid. I guess I'm proud of him. That makes me happier than anything else. I'm glad alcohol didn't destroy all that. It could have.

"Thank you."

The group clapped.

As I sat down, I knew sex wasn't going to go away, but I knew I wanted to be faithful to Mitch. I wanted to be the person I respected. I wondered if it was time to be 100% committed to him.

 

—

 

 

I told Mitch I would bring my lunch down to his office Thursday. His door was open, but he was on the phone. I made a light rap, and he motioned me in.

As Mitch wrapped up his phone call, I immediately knew who it was. I didn't deal with this client much but remember him as being difficult to get off the phone. I went over to the windows to check on the weather. The skies were still gloomy, but no indication of rain yet.

I felt playful. As Mitch struggled to wind down the conversation, I walked up behind him and put my hands on his shoulders. Then I began to massage his neck. As I did so, I noticed he had placed a picture of Corey, him and me from last year's vacation on his desk. It was a good shot of us. I lowered my lips to his neck and started breathing on his skin, then quietly kissing it. He smiled but squirmed. When I stuck my tongue inside his ear, he tried to wave me off but accidentally smacked my jaw. I could tell he was sorry. It didn't hurt.

"Oh goodness, Martin, I have something we have to tend to. Let me let you go. It's been good talking to you."

He hung up. Mitchell turned to me and gave me an evil leer. Then he broke into a smile and kissed me.

"That didn't hurt too bad, did it?" he asked.

"I'm fine. Sorry."

After kissing me again, he went for his lunch. Most staff members have small refrigerators in their offices. At one time, mine was stocked with wine and beer. He pulled out a canvas bag that contained a sandwich. He had a leftover side dish that I couldn't recognize through the green translucent plastic.

"I like the picture of us."

"You don't mind?" he asked. "I was hoping you would be okay with it."

"I'm okay with it. I think the office knows we are seeing each other again."

"I'm hoping it can be more," he said, unwrapping his sandwich. "Much more."

The two of us were in a good place. I really should make a solid commitment to our relationship. I would. Soon.

"Corey's birthday is tomorrow, but Nat is throwing the party Saturday. I don't know if you'd be interested, but do..."

"Of course I'd love to come. Would Natalie be okay with that?"

"Corey would be okay with that, and that's what's important. I'll let her know you are coming."

"What should I give him?"

"You don't have to give him anything."

"I can't show up empty handed."

"I did see something that might be nice. I saw a coffee table book that..."

"A coffee table book!? For a 14-year-old?"

"Give me a sec," I said, impressed that he knew Corey's age in an instant. "It's all about the Avengers, going back to the first issue in the 1960s. I think he'd love it."

"Hmm. I could do that."

I unpacked my lunch. I had brought a pasta salad, a banana and a container of yogurt. I hadn't intended on a vegetarian meal, but clearly it was.

"The party is at lunchtime Saturday. I was thinking you might want to stay over Friday night. We'd have the place to ourselves. I have ... something ... in mind that I want to do."

Mitchell raised an eyebrow. "Hmm. Your ideas keep getting bolder. What are you up to?"

"Are you staying over or not?"

"Definitely."

I smiled. "Oh! Full disclosure, my family was also invited to the party. I have no idea who will show."

"Swell. I suppose I can survive."

 

Corey and Thomas had played all afternoon in the back yard. For just turning 12, my son had the energy of a small puppy. Thomas was seven. He was an endless stream of questions — about everything.

Mitchell warmed to him better than his parents. Judith was very cold to Mitch. Wayne didn't say much. Thomas wanted Mitchell to explain who he was again. We started off with just "a friend of Uncle Cooper's." That seemed fine. Until bedtime.

After dinner, after a round of cards, after ice cream, the boys were told to turn in. Our parents had a screened-in porch. We put two sleeping bags out there, and the boys were going to "camp out." I made Corey brush his teeth and use the bathroom. Thomas did the same. We told them the door would always be unlocked if they had to pee in the middle of the night.

"Is your friend Mitchell spending the night too?" Thomas asked.

"Well ... yes, he is."

"Where will he sleep?"

"Um... I guess I will have to share my room with him."

Judith's expression was one of absolute horror that I was subjecting her son to such apprehensible speech.

"Mitchell and Dad are boyfriends," Corey calmly informed Thomas.

Thomas didn't understand. His expression was one of confusion.

"They like each other. They have the same bedroom sometimes."

Judith walked off. Mitchell just tried to fade into the wallpaper.

A few minutes later, the boys were off to bed.

"Well, thanks a lot," Judith said, cornering me in the kitchen.

"What??"

"What!? You know what! I shouldn't have to explain the perversions you've succumbed to to a boy that age."

"Perver... Honestly, Judith. Are you incapable of explaining that two people can love each other? Is that so hard?!"

"Oh, don't make it so simple. You know what I'm talking about. I didn't want my child exposed to ... to ... to that type of sin at such a young age."

"That type of sin!?" I said in my loudest whisper. "Seriously, Judith. We're in love. And for the record, I think it is obvious that Mitchell and I aren't going to do anything sexual in Mom and Dad's house. Honestly!!"

I had lied. Mitchell was King of Quiet. I was so worked up, he felt the best way to calm me down was a blowjob. It took me a half hour, but I shot my load into his throat, breathing heavily but staying silent. Two minutes later he was dripping cum all over my balls. He had stuffed a sock under my crotch so it wouldn't get on the sheets. He used it to wipe his semen from my testicles. We giggled like teenagers.

We both put our underwear and night shirts back on. He snuggled into my arms. I kissed his forehead.

"We only have the morning tomorrow left. I'm sorry, sweetie."

"I suppose I can survive."

 

—

 

Mitchell arrived at my place just before 7 Friday night. We quickly darted to the bookstore so that he could purchase the gift for Corey. He chose a card too, which isn't always easy for a 14-year-old. I didn't have much wrapping paper at home, but there was enough to cover the book.

While out we enjoyed a quick dinner. As we drove back, we swung by the house. There was still much to accomplish, but it was looking like a house. The outside was about done. I knew the interior had a lot to go.

"Remember Laramie?"

Mitch nodded.

"I was able to work with the builder to get Laramie to do the shelving in the library. I like working with these guys."

Mitch nodded.

We didn't do much at home. We wrapped the gift. Mine too.

Mitchell shared with me some new music by gay artists on his tablet. I just smiled at him. I was so impressed with his connection to gay culture. I had learned so much from him. There were times I would just bask in how marvelous he was.

When it was time to turn in, I brushed my teeth and took off everything but my boxers. Mitch was wearing briefs and kept a night shirt on when crawling into bed. We turned out all the lights except the one on my nightstand.

"So, when you said you `had something in mind,' were you implying ... like right now?"

"Are you game for something different?"

Mitch nodded. I smiled.

I moved on top of him and wrapped my hands around his head as we began kissing. Mitch felt good in my hands, in my arms, under my body. I could feel his erection in his underwear. He could feel mine. They were pressed together, gently rubbing as we kissed. I thrust my hips just enough to rub the hardness of mine into the hardness of his.

After minutes of kissing, he finally came up for air and asked, "So what's on your mind?"

"I want to do something different."

"Oh?" Mitch paused. "I'm trying to think of something we haven't done. You didn't buy a sling, did you?"

I didn't know what that was.

"Let's get loud. Let's make love and not hold back."

"Oh."

It suddenly felt like all energy had left Mitch's body. I wanted us to do this, but I wanted him to want to as well.

"Something's wrong. Talk to me," I said.

"Oh, I don't know if wrong is the correct word." Mitchell sat up in bed. "Loud sex ... it ... it..."

I hadn't seen Mitchell like this. He was thrown off guard. I could all but feel his anxiety. It was tangible.

"I'm sorry, Cooper. I guess I can try. I ... just get uncomfortable with it."

"Mitch, you have a book. You write down every detail about people you have sex with. Why would you be uncomfortable with this?"

He rolled his eyes and looked away when I mentioned his personal book of sexual conquests. I knew he didn't like me knowing about it. Then he turned back to me.

"I had a job when I was ... oh, I guess 17. I got home as the news was going off. I guess my parents didn't hear me come in since the TV was still on. One of them came into the living room and turned it off and then they started ... making love. Uck. When your parents do it, it is so gross. They figured they had the house to themselves, but I had been in the kitchen with the lights off. I could hear them from the living room. I went to my room, and it was every bit as loud. I wanted to turn on the stereo, anything. I didn't own headphones, or I would have put them on. I was petrified. I didn't want them to know that I could hear them. I was ashamed and pissed off and ... and ... freaked out and a bit scared. I don't know why but I hated it. I felt like I shouldn't be there. I just didn't ever want to be in that situation. It went on for about 15 minutes. I listened to my dad ... ugh. I just cringe thinking about it. I could tell he was coming. He all but screamed it. Listening to my mother squeal. Ugh. I knew I was gay by then, but that sort of sinched it in my mind. I went back to the front door and slammed it like I was just coming home." Mitch went quiet. "I swore I would never let that happen to me."

I reached for his hand. I pulled him into my shoulder.

"That does sound like a rather unpleasant memory, but you were practically a kid. We're adults. I never hear my neighbors, and this bedroom is the corner room on the building." I kissed his forehead. "I don't want you to do something you won't feel comfortable about, but ... I hope you would be willing to try. For me."

He put his face in his hands. Was this fair of me? Was I pushing something on someone they weren't sexually comfortable with? But it was pretty much a normal thing.

Mitchell sat upright. He took in a deep breath. I looked as he turned to face me. His eyes pierced into mine.

"I love you, Cooper. I can do this."

I gave him a smile. "I'll start it out. You can jump in."

I stripped off all my clothes. His erection had left him if his briefs were any indication, but mine was still notably firm. It jutted from my crotch. I positioned my body to where his face was mouth-to-cock with mine. He swallowed me. Slowly I kept thrusting in his mouth until he was devouring my entire organ. With each thrust I let out a moan. With each moan I got a little louder. With each increase in volume, my fingers dug deeper into his skin on his shoulders.

"That feels nice, Mitchell. Suck me. Suck all of me."

He moaned a little and raised his hands to grip my ass."

"That's it, baby. Let me hear you."

He moaned louder into my cock.

I kept fucking his skull for a few minutes. We had done this on numerous occasions, but never had I been able to be this audible. It was a new layer of passion. It was a new layer of pleasure. It was a new layer of fun. My moans had become louder groans. I was loving releasing my gratification. I had done it with Emory, but I was in love with Mitchell; this was incredible.

"Fuck yeah, baby. I love it. I love how you suck me."

He let a finger tease the pucker of my ass.

"Oh yeah, Mitchell."

He allowed himself to be louder.

My dick was throbbing. It felt so good inside the warmth of his moist flesh. It was as if the nerves in my enflamed erection were pulsing with the touch of his taste buds. He continued to satisfy me orally. I was grunting in my thrusts. I was getting too close. I pulled away from his mouth.

"I don't want to come yet."

I moved down to pull his briefs from his body. It was a bit difficult to get them over his fierce erection.

"Yeah," I heard him say.

I wriggled them off his legs and over his feet.

"Suck me. Suck me, Cooper."

It was what I had in mind.

I couldn't take all of his dick in my mouth, but I took most of it. I moved up and down his pole in a slobbery, wet suck. Mitchell moaned. I hummed approval directly into his hard flesh.

"Coop. That feels good. Oh yeah."

I slurped more loudly. My tongue darted around the shaft, titillating the skin under the head.

"Oh fuck, Cooper. That's good."

I was enjoying hearing him vocalize his pleasure. I grabbed the base of his dick and began pounding the hard meat as my mouth continued to suck the head. He moaned louder. I moaned with him. He groaned louder. I groaned with him.

Mitchell squirmed in my oral service. I always estimated his dick to be close to seven inches. Tonight it seemed every bit of that. His fingers ran through my hair. My head bobbed on his crotch, and he gripped my hair between his fingers.

"Yeah, Coop. Fuck yeah. Keep doing that."

I did. I sucked him like it was his last day to be alive. His cock pulsed in my lips. He pulled his fingers from my hair and began scratching them down my back. I groaned.

"Cooper. Cooper! Baby. Don't make me come. I need you to fuck me."

My tongue danced the entire length of his rod, and then I pulled off.

"Fuck me, please."

He ran to get a towel. I leaned over to get the lube. Seconds later, the towel was stretched below his ass, and I was fingering his hole applying slick lubricant. I squeezed a line of clear gel on my dick and gripped my hard-on, sliding the application all around it.

"I need you inside me," he said.

I smiled at him. He was definitely going with this idea. We kissed. When we stopped, our eyes locked.

"I need you to fuck me."

"I want to fuck you."

"I need you."

"I want to be inside you."

My dick entered. He all but screamed.

"Ohhhh yeah," we said in unison.

"Do you like me inside you?"

"Fuck yes! Fuck me, man. Fuck me, Cooper."

His legs were spread apart, and my erection moved in and out of him easily. As I shoved my flesh inside him, we kissed harder with each thrust. His throat groaned into mine in our sealed kiss.

For several minutes we were in sexual motion. Our skin had become hot as if laying in the sun. We were sweaty. We were making love. Loud love. His hands groped my upper body as I thrust my hips. My dick moved in and out of him with a strong rhythm. The sensations in my groin were hypersonic.

"I feel so good in you," I said.

"I love you inside me. Keep fucking me. FUCK YEAH!"

Mitch had never been so loud in his life. His pleasure had removed every inhibition he had. His cock bobbed about as I fucked his ass. He reached down to start pumping his steel rod.

We groaned loudly. We were animals, snarling and howling.

"Fuck yes. Fuck yes. Fuck yes."

"Are you gonna come?" I asked.

"I'm close. Keep fucking me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me with that hard cock."

Mitchell was now overwhelmed with our sex. Sweat dripped from his forehead. His moaning had devolved into a whimper as his climax was nearing.

"Ohhhh...
"Cooooopeeeeerrrrrr...
"You're going to make meeeeeee..."

He grunted loudly.

"I'm coming baby. I'm coming. Keep fucking me."

Cum poured from his cock onto his navel. He cried out through his entire orgasm.

I was louder. "Mitchell." Louder. "MITCHELL! I'm so close..."

"Keep fucking me, baby. Make that cock come inside me."

"FUCK!!" I screamed, shoving my cock into his hole as hard as I could and kept it deep inside.

I shot stream after stream of creamy liquid deep inside him. I screamed aloud until my climax concluded. My body trembled. I pulled my dick from his ass and moved it into his pool of cum. My body collapsed on his as I slid my dick into his ejaculated passion. Our lips sealed. We kissed for long moments. Minutes. Hours. Months. Our tongues tangoed inside our mouths.

As we broke for air, gasping, our arms were wrapped around each other tightly.

"Oh. My. God," he panted.

"Did you like it?"

"That was fucking hot," Mitch said.

"I'm glad you liked it."

"And no one could hear us," he said. "We're on the corner."

"And you're not freaked out?"

"I'm okay. Knowing no one could hear us next door."

"Maybe on the floor below."

"Don't tell me that." We laughed, still catching our breath. "Don't ruin it."

We cleaned our bodies and found ourselves kissing some more.

"You usually don't cuss like that," he said.

"You usually don't let me say anything."

We laughed some more.

He moved to the side of the bed and reached down for his briefs.

"Leave them," I said.

I turned out the light, and we held each other naked. Our skin was still warm. If we were 20 years younger, we'd probably be starting again. We were spent though. It was my opinion that it was the best sex we had ever had.

"Did you like it?" I asked in the darkness.

"Hell yeah. You were right. That was different for us."

"Good enough to add to my page in the book."

"Gawd. I hate that you know about that book. Do you really want me to write that in there?"

"Hell, yeah. I don't have the goods when it comes to dicks. I need some sort of bonus points on paper."

"You have all the goods I want. I love you, Cooper."

We kissed.

"I love you too."

Did I have the goods? He wanted more before. I held him in the darkness. A light sheet covered our warm flesh meshed together. If that were true, maybe I could believe we could make it. Maybe.

For now, we had taken a big step. For us.

"What's a sling?" I asked.

 

—

 

Mitchell's arm was around me. His fingers draped over my stomach, mere inches from my morning wood. I guided his hand to my erection. I didn't have to see his face to tell he smiled. He made a humming chuckle and kissed my shoulder.

"Good morning," he mumbled with a dry mouth.

He moved on top of me, and we kissed for a few minutes. Eventually he moved off of my body.

"Loved last night," he said.

"Me too," I returned.

I reached for his cock. It was hard as well. We weren't going to have sex again, but I started sucking it in a slow tease anyway.

After a minute, I pulled away.

"Keep going," he directed to my surprise.

I complied. This was different. Lovemaking was usually once on the weekends we were together.

Fifteen minutes later, we were both sitting up in bed. Our legs were wrapped together. Each of us had one arm around the other. Our other hands were stroking each lover's cock. Our lips were locked, but we moaned into each other's throat.

"Ohhhh, Mitch. You're going to make me come," I screamed as I pulled my lips back.

"Yeah."

Cum shot between us. Part of it hit my chest, some splattered to his.

"That's it, baby," he said.

My fingers lunged for his dick again. I jerked it hard as he leaned back on stiff arms. A minute later he groaned, and I felt my fist become coated with warm liquid. He continued to groan throughout the entire orgasm.

Finally he caught his breath.

Carefully we got off the bed. Our bodies had considerable cum on them. Considering we had also come the night before, that was impressive.

"We're just two young studs," I said in mock bravado.

"Shower with me?" he asked.

 

—

 

"You're sure you are fine with me leaving right after the party?" Mitchell asked me. "I hate to duck out so soon, but I have some errands that must be done."

"No worries. I told Laramie I would meet him for dinner."

"I shouldn't be jealous, should I?" he said sarcastically.

"Of Laramie? We're just friends. I think it has been nice for him to open up to someone. I get the impression he doesn't have a wide circle of gay friends."

"Sounds like you when we first started."

"Exactly."

We parked on the street against the curb. Both of us got our packages and headed to the front door. It had been almost three years since I had lived in that house. It still felt odd being away from it. It was familiar even if I wasn't an occupant anymore.

"Nice to see you, Mitch," Nat said opening the door. "Come on in, guys."

I kissed her on the cheek.

I talked to my mother. She was pleasant to the both of us if not overly cheerful.

Judith, Wayne and Thomas arrived a few minutes after us. Thomas ran to find Corey. Wayne walked to the kitchen.

"Natalie! Thanks so much for inviting us," Judith gushed. "It is so wonderful to see you. I'm sorry it has been so long. We need to catch up more often. And can I say you look fantastic?! You truly do. It really is wonderful to see you."

Judith turned around and saw us standing there.

"Oh, hi Mitchell. Hello, Cooper."

With that, she turned and headed into the kitchen.

"My, I think I was scalded by the warmth of that greeting," Mitchell said.

I laughed.

We went into the living room. Natalie's parents were there. I had hardly seen them since the divorce. A short encounter picking up Corey during the holidays one time. They missed his birthday last year because they were on a cruise. It shouldn't have come as a surprise that they were here, but for some reason I hadn't expected it.

"Hello, Cooper."

"Hi, Mrs. Devry. It's nice to see you." I gave a simple wave. "This is Mitch. Mitchell, this is Natalie's mother."

"Hello," said Mitch, extending a hand. "It's nice to meet you."

It took all of her strength for her to reach out and shake it, but she did so with a forced smile. Mr. Devry just glared. His entire body radiated disgust with me, and he left the room out the back door to walk in the backyard. That was harsh. My body just gave a heaving sigh and probably looked defeated.

"I'm sorry about that," Mrs. DeVry said, giving me a gentle hug.

"Me too," I softly offered. "Me too."

"It's hard for us not to remember how things were when you two got married."

"I imagine. There are some hard things for me to remember too. Thankfully, I'm better."

Kind of. Mitch and I had worked our way through an emotional obstacle course to get to where we were, and it was clear to me I felt lost in the gay world without him. I just wanted Mrs. Devry to see the love between him and me. The three of us had no idea what to say. With no conceivable topics for conservation, we joined the others in the dining room. We saw that two more of Corey's friends arrived. One of the moms stayed to help as well.

Eventually the party progressed as it should. The only hint of warmth toward me was from Natalie. Overall, the room was pretty frosty. For all intents and purposes, Mitchell and I could have been the two vases on the china cabinet. Mrs. Devry must have read something in my expression. As happy as I was trying to act in front of Corey, Mr. Devry and my family were doing my self-esteem no favors. She patted my hand.

"I want you to know that I miss you, Cooper," she tenderly told me in a voice just above a whisper.

"I appreciate you saying that. It's nice seeing you, Mom." I paused a second. "I'm sure I'm not supposed to call you that anymore, but ... that's how I think of you."

I saw a glimmer of a smile before she went to search the house for her husband.

An hour later, gifts had been opened, games played and everyone in attendance had consumed a day's worth of sugar and calories. There were only six kids at the party, but they were having fun in the living room with video games.

Judith was heading to the bathroom as I was just evacuating it. She stopped.

"So. You and Mitch again, huh? I guess some people never learn."

"Judith ..."

"You know, I was hoping his mistake would really show you the pitfalls of this lifestyle you've adopted."

"I didn't adopt a lifestyle. I'm gay. I was born that way."

"Apparently not the first 35 years of your life."

"I was living a lie. It drove me to drink; I became an alcoholic."

"The alcohol was just part of the whole gay thing. You were coping with the sin of it all with booze."

"That's just ridiculous and you know it. Mitch and I are happy. Why can't you be happy for us?"

"Don't confuse lust with love!"

"My dad is not confused. He loves Mitchell," Corey said behind us.

We both whirled. We hadn't realized he had walked down the hall.

"Corey, sweetie," Judith started. "I know this adult stuff is sometimes hard to understand, but ..."

"I understand. I see everyone and how they live their lives. Dad and Mitchell are the two people most in love in this house right now."

"Oh, well, I would have to..."

"No question about it, Aunt Judy. I see them. I like seeing them love each other. Someday I hope you can be just as much in love as they are. Excuse me, I have to pee."

Corey shut the door. I all but burst into uncontrollable laughter. Judith's expression was priceless — a mixture of rage, confusion and shock. I mouthed, "In your face!" and poked a finger above her chest. My smile didn't leave me for about 12 minutes.

As the party was winding down, I cornered Natalie to see if she was still dating the guy she had mentioned.

"It's actually going well," she said.

"Has Corey met him?"

"He knows of him, but he hasn't met him yet."

"I'm surprised he didn't mention it to me."

"I only told him last week."

"How did he react?"

"Eh. Not a huge response. He's a mature kid. He muttered something like, `cool,' and then said he hoped he treated me nicely. It wasn't a wellspring of emotion."

"And how do you feel about it?"

"Cooper, why should I tell my ex about my love life?"

"Because. Because I still care about you and want you to be completely happy."

Natalie leaned in for a hug. We held each other for a moment. Nat was a great woman. I did want her to be happy. I wasn't sure I would ever get over messing her life up. At least by being together we have a son we both adore.

Minutes later we were headed toward the door. I had given Corey a huge hug and wished him "Happy birthday" one more time. Corey thanked Mitchell for the gift and the two embraced. Wayne and Judith were in the foyer.

"It was sooooo nice to see you, Judith," I said with sarcasm dripping from my words. "You two be good." Thomas ran up, and I rustled my hand through his hair. Giving him a hug, I said, "Take care of your mom and dad. Okay, champ?"

He nodded. Thomas gave Mitchell a big hug, too. Judith rolled her eyes.

 

—

 

I met Laramie for dinner that night. In our past conversations, I had mentioned to him (as well as Emory) that Mitchell preferred sex on the quieter side. I gave him a report on last night. He didn't interject much, but his smile conveyed that he appreciated my openness.

I was nothing like Lance. I didn't ever see myself as incredibly blunt as he was, but I realized I could speak about sex a little more openly with my friends than I used to. My gradual steps of independence in the gay world were helping me evolve, albeit slowly.

"You aren't saying anything," I said after I had finished, and he kept smiling at me.

"What's to say? Good for you. I'm happy things are working out for you."

"Things actually really are pretty good. I think I just need to face it; I need to move past his mistake last winter and just let us enjoy being a couple again. I should really commit. He deserves that. Clearly the scar isn't going to go away, but I need to accept it and move forward."

"Will you invite him to live in your new house?"

"No," I immediately said. "Certainly, I will make space for him, and he will be there often, but I want the house to belong to me. Me and Corey. At least for a while."

"Fair enough. Now that he is able to fulfill your audible sexual desires, does the man have any other flaws?"

I laughed. "He drives me crazy when he is behind the wheel. He wants to change lanes constantly. I just want to say, `Pick one!' and we stay there, but noooooo. He is hellbent on gaining a few minutes here and there by darting in and out between cars. He's going to kill himself — or us! — one day."

He chuckled at that. "I know what you mean. My old boyfriend, Micah, just had to back in when he parked. He couldn't just pull the car in. Oh no. It just had to be backed in. Had. To."

"So, are there any more secrets about you?" I asked.

"I can't swallow pills," Laramie said. He rolled his eyes, slightly embarrassed.

"Oh really?"

"Nope. I've tried. They just don't go down." He looked me in the eyes. "And you? What new secret do you wish to confess?"

"Oh, jeez. I don't know. I'm afraid of spiders."

"Everyone is. That doesn't count. Tell me something embarrassing."

"Embarrassing." I thought a moment. "The first sexual contact Mitchell and I had was in our office building."

"Now you're talking."

"It was so silly, so risky. Could you imagine if we got caught?"

Laramie went quiet. He no longer would make eye contact.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. No. Yeah. Yes, I can imagine what it would be like."

"You lost me."

"It's ... it's my biggest secret."

"You don't have to tell me if you aren't okay with it. I'm not prying."

"I know you're not. I've ... I've never told anyone."

I reached for his wrist. "Laramie. It's okay. We can drop this."

"Okay."

Our food arrived. My blackened salmon smelled divine. His shrimp scampi looked good too. As we began our meal, I noticed he stirred around his food more than he was eating it. I didn't want to push, but something was on his mind. We went almost seven minutes without saying anything. I was more than halfway through my meal, and he seemed to have only taken a few bites.

"Buddy, I think I've caused you to feel something wrong."

"No. It's not your fault. After our evening at Lance and Jakob's home, I promised myself I wouldn't get all weepy with you."

"I'm sorry. Let's talk about something else."

"No. Cooper, you have become a good friend. I've opened up to you more than ... more than anyone in a long time."

As he talked, he began to eat a little more. Between bites, he talked using his fork almost to emphasize his points.

"When we were at Lance's place, I told you about my brother."

I nodded.

"He ... he knew I was gay. He told me I needed to tell my parents. I told you I did when I was 24. What I didn't tell you was ... I didn't actually tell them I was gay. For several years I had some ... a little sexual activity with friends. Sleeping with other guys mostly involved nudity, blowjobs, kissing. A guy and I finally talked about taking it to a new level. My first time getting fucked ... it, it wasn't good."

I wasn't sure if he meant he didn't enjoy it or what. I was surprised in speaking of such personal details that he took a bite of shrimp. I was on the edge waiting for him to finish.

"We weren't in love. I guess it was more of a hormonal thing, physical lust basically. We had been dating a few weeks. No one was home; we had it to ourselves. I agreed to let him fuck me. He was very gentle. We took it slow and easy. I was loving it. It seemed like such a big step. I felt so connected to him. To Marcus. It went on for a while. Our last position was me riding his dick. He was on his back; I was just riding up and down on it. It felt so good. I told him I was close. I knew I was about to come. Then I heard my dad call out my name; he was walking down the hall."

"No."

"Yeah."

"So, he caught you in the act."

"More than that. As he walked into the room, my cock exploded. I came right in front of him. I couldn't stop. I just shot cum all over my chest as my father just stared."

"Oh gawd."

"Things were never the same after that. My father hardly talked to me. I still lived at home because of my mother's health, but we didn't talk a lot after that. I was miserable at my job. My family had pretty much disowned me — well, ignored me. My younger brother wasn't bad, but my parents ignored me completely after that. It was as if I wasn't alive anymore. Two years later my older brother took his life. They felt they had lost the wrong one."

"Laramie..." I said softly.

He reached for my hand. His fingers wrapped around mine. "I've never told anyone that."

I squeezed his hand and let go. "Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for feeling you could open up to me."

"I think you are the only person I could ever tell. You're a good friend, Coop. You truly are."

We both finished our meals. We didn't say anything for a few minutes. The server talked us into a decadent dessert. He had us at "chocolate." We felt Laramie's confession justified the empty calories.

Conversation was a little lighter over dessert. He pointed to a spot of chocolate icing at the corner of my mouth. As I wiped it off, I couldn't imagine making such a confession to a friend as he had just done. How brave he was.

As we walked to the parking lot, I got the impression he felt better. Perhaps holding something inside — deep inside — for all those years took its toll. I'm glad he confided in me.

"Thank you for not running away," Laramie said as we stood next to my car.

"Running ...? I don't understand."

"I've dumped a lot on you. You haven't made me feel bad for opening up."

"You're my friend. Of course not."

He hugged me. "Thank you for being the friend I need."

I squeezed him tighter. "I enjoy our time together. All of it." I gave him a kiss on the cheek.

He kissed me on the cheek. Then he kissed me on the lips briefly and walked to his car.

 

—

 

Brad topped off my coffee. Black.

Emory had spent the last ten minutes explaining adapting to being able to sleep in every day — and the joy that it brings.

"So, you think you will survive retirement, huh?" I asked.

"It would appear so. It's an adjustment, for sure. Life is just suddenly ... different. But I had done that with Gene's passing before. I think I will give this a go. Relax a bit and then really dive into things to keep me busy. Things I enjoy."

"Good for you." I pondered my next statement a moment, but then decided to go for it. "Speaking of enjoying things..."

Emory looked at me and sipped his coffee. He expected something to follow. And, of course, I had led into it.

"Mitch and I had loud sex the other night."

Emory howled. A few people in Joe turned our way.

"Shh." I momentarily blushed. "I thought you might like to know."

"Oh, for sure. I somehow feel a personal sense of ... inspiration."

"More like inspiration for me asking for what I would like — or need — rather than the sex. I felt good kind of standing up for myself."

"And did Mitchell survive?"

"Oh yes. I think he liked it. We talked a bit but didn't dwell on it too much. It was Friday night, so the two of us haven't followed up on it. But yeah, he gave it a thumbs up for sure."

"Love it. Good for you."

"We've both grown. I think I'm getting to where I need to recommit to him. The house, my raise, my relationship with Corey ... I'm in a good place. Throw in hot sex and life is good."

He chuckled.

"I really enjoyed meeting Corey last week," Emory said. "He's a nice kid."

"I'm proud of him. His birthday was yesterday. Fourteen. Hard to believe. Natalie invited me over, as well as my family. One of my sisters came. It was still chilly with her. My mother was better. Mitch went too."

"Oooo. High drama."

"Not so much, just ... less than warm and fuzzy. Nat was great though. Corey actually put my sister in her place."

"Get out!"

"It was brilliant."

"It was nice to put a face to Mitchell too. I enjoyed our coffee last week."

"Yeah. If Corey asks, I'll come if he wants, but I won't push our coffee at 9 on him if he doesn't want to. We are probably about a month out of moving into the new house. Things will get super busy for a few weeks once that happens."

Laramie walked in. We waved him over. As he awaited his cappuccino, I mentioned to Emory how Laramie and I had opened up to each other lately. I was happy that he had more gay friends. I felt it was helping him.

"He kind of likes you, too," Emory said.

"What do you mean?"

"He likes you."

"No," I blustered. "We're just friends. Don't read anything into anything. He just needed someone to confide in."

"Right. Handsome guy, big heart, willing to listen ... who could possibly fall for that??" he said sarcastically.

"You're imagining things. He needs a friend."

Laramie pulled up a chair and the conversation dropped.

 

—

 

Trent was a little ahead of me, but in the past weeks, I had developed the stamina to do a better job keeping up. Amadeus ran alongside us. Of course, when we paused from the run to walk in increments, we were able to talk side by side. I enjoyed listening to him tell me how he was enthralled writing with Mike on his next play.

It was still funny to me that I was friends with a playwright. He was so young and talented. The series of connections for me to get to know him were because I was an alcoholic. Life is strange.

We were quiet for the rest of the mile in that jog, then we slowed to a brisk walk. A shirtless jogger passed us. Both Trent and I looked. There was something about men in white tennis shoes and baseball caps that totally worked for me. Sweat was glistening off his chest. I told myself he looked delicious and then waved the thoughts from my mind. I wondered if Trent saw my arm actually move.

Oddly, the temperature seemed to drop during our run. We both commented on it.

"Fall is starting to make its presence known," I said.

"Yeah, before long I will start planning Friendsgiving again." We resumed the jog. "You'll come again, won't you?" he asked.

"Absolutely. I love it. Mitch enjoys it too."

"He's certainly welcome."

"Is it okay if I bring Laramie?" I asked. "I'd like to see him grow his circle of friends."

"Friendship is what it is all about. You can positively bring him. Anyone you wish to include is fine."

"When I first met Laramie, I wasn't necessarily attracted to him. Now I find qualities about him alluring."

"Oh?" Trent asked.

"No. Not that. We are just friends. But the more I've come to know him, the more I find him interesting. He is handsome. He's a catch in my opinion, if he could find the right person."

"Maybe he will meet someone at Friendsgiving."

For the slightest moment, I thought about playing matchmaker, but I had no idea who to pair Laramie with, nor did I remotely wish to take on that task.

There was a bench alongside the trail. We stopped. When Trent sat down, the way his shorts fell, I could make out the outlines of his dick, or at least I thought I did. I could tell he was rather endowed. Probably not as much as Lance — or at least going by what Lance shares with everyone. Alas, not me. It was my role to play the short-dicked friend.

My mind drifted to Mitchell. He always liked sex with me. Clearly, my penis size wasn't an issue. Until he wanted something bigger, at least. I wondered if he would be willing to plunge into louder sex more often now. We really did need to discuss it. Thoughts of him fucking the big-dicked guy at our old apartment entered my brain again. That always made my mood grim, but I could still picture that man's body. It was easy for Mitch to want it, but could he really be satisfied with just me? Forever?

My thoughts started making my anatomy stir. Why was I so horny today? I focused on nonsexual things for the rest of the run.

By the time we got back to Trent's place, Mike was home. It was good to see him. I envied their relationship. They had a wonderful marriage.

I seemed so alone last winter, so adrift. Now I had friends I was interacting with on a regular basis. It's funny how fate — spilled coffee — had widened my circle. I still missed Lance and Jakob. There is something to be said for a shared bond when overcoming something that seems so overwhelming. All of us had become better people since joining AA.

"How goes it with Mitchell?" Mike asked.

"Good. We're getting back to a really good place. Even though I haven't committed to him 100 percent, I am considering it. I believe he has been loyal to our relationship since we started back."

"And haven't you?" Trent asked.

"Yeah. Although we haven't said the word `exclusive,' we are."

That was a bit of a lie. More than a bit, actually. My night with Emory wasn't exactly on the up and up, but there was no romance involved. But that was exactly the case when Mitchell cheated on me. It made me ashamed that I seemed to be skating on this double standard. If Mitch knew, it would all cave in. I hated being a liar.

"Will he move in when your house is done?" Mike asked.

"Not at first. I want it to be mine. I think Mitch understands that. But being a family again sounds nice. He has a picture of the three of us on his desk. I like seeing it."

 

—

 

Laramie had texted me at work. He was allowed to come into the house and start on the shelves in the library. It was still quite a few weeks away from being finished, but this was a good window for him to get his work in. He invited me to come out and look.

I left work about an hour early. As I drove up, it still amazed me how sometimes progress seemed imperceptible, and other times they seemed so dramatic. The outside was really looking pretty much done. Gutters remained. A few screens, but it was looking nice. My choice of brick really pleased me. The wood trim worked nicely. I was happy.

Laramie saw me standing outside looking and waved me in. He knew I would be interested on the inside, so we walked through together. It looked pretty rough. Dusty. No tile or carpeting or wood laminates. Plumbing and fixtures were all in place. I looked inside each closet. I wish I had contracted Laramie to do the shelving in all of them, but I thought I was pushing it just getting him allowed to do the library.

That was our last stop. Laramie had been wearing a baseball cap apparently and had put it to the side. He grabbed it and put in on. What is it about baseball caps that I find so sexy? And he put it on backward! That totally sold it. Laramie actually looked hot to me. I hadn't deeply felt that way before, but I suddenly found him extremely handsome. Totally hot.

He called me over to point out some of the details he had added to the woodwork. I hadn't requested any sculpted detail, but it looked fantastic. I watched him work for a few minutes. The hat, his loose shorts, white sneakers ... he was doing it for me. I was surprised that I had such thoughts about my friend.

While he held a shelf divider in place, he asked if I could reach and hand him his drill. As I grabbed the tool and handed it to him, my arm rubbed up against his. It was sweaty. My arm touching his sweaty, hairy arm caused my breath to deepen. What was going on with me? This was my friend. Why was I feeling so hot for him? If I wasn't careful, I was going to screw up this friendship.

The house was a bit stuffy. He had been working for several hours. His T-shirt was spotted with wet patches of perspiration. When he stepped back, he lifted up the bottom of his shirt, pulled it up and wiped off his face. I looked — positively gawked — at his hairy chest. It was coated in sweat. I was glad I was wearing tight briefs and not loose boxers. My thoughts scrambled all over the place. I needed to get a grip.

"What do you think?" Laramie asked.

"Get a grip!"

"What?"

"Uh. It looks great. Fantastic. If you want me to get a grip on that last piece, I can hold it in place."

"Umm. Sure."

We worked together for a few minutes. Deep in my mind, I was just hoping our arms would rub together again.

I had no idea what was happening to me. I blamed Emory's stupid conversation from Sunday. I was calling Mitchell when I got home. I definitely needed to spend the night with him.

 

—

 

Mitchell's alarm went off at 6:45. He hit it, and we both didn't move. My hand was still down underneath his waistband, gripping his butt cheek. One would think we would have had to have moved during the night, but that was how we had fallen asleep. Eventually I pulled it out to scratch my chest. Some of the light hair I had on my pecs had become stuck to my skin with Mitchell's cum last night.

More times than not, he stayed over at my place, partly owing to Corey staying there. But nights in his apartment were enjoyable. He was too scared about his neighbors, so we were on the quieter side again (but not silent), but the sex was still good.

I needed to be back at my place that evening, so we each took our own cars, but we made plans to share lunch in my office.

Later, as I pulled a bag of hint-of-lime tortilla chips out of a cabinet, Mitchell asked me a financial question. We never talked too much about bonuses and salaries before. I told him I had received a recent bonus. Again. Not huge; simple enough to be a nice surprise.

"It ... it doesn't bother you when I get bonuses on new contracts, does it?"

"No. No, of course not. I'm happy for you in that regard. I'm ... just thinking about the next few months for me. You are getting this nice new house, and I don't know what's in store for me."

"Mitchell..."

"Don't worry. I'm not asking to move in. It's your place. When you are ready to commit to us — exclusive, as a family — we can talk about it then. I'm just thinking about my own finances. Bigger apartment? See where the two of us go? Maybe it is time for me to have my own house? I just don't know."

"Well, you don't have to decide now. You have three more months on your lease. That's time enough to weigh your options and see how things work out."

I wasn't sure how to read his mood. Was there jealousy over the bonuses I was getting that he wasn't? Was he wanting a commitment from me? Was he afraid that if I didn't ask him to move in that he wouldn't have a place of his own that he owned?

Surely by the end of his lease we would know where we were. I'm sure Corey would love to see us all together again, but that stupid wall was still in front of me. What if Mitch did it to me again? I couldn't take it a second time. The cut would be too deep. But I loved the man. No matter what, he deserved some kind of answer from me.

 

—

 

"Hi, I'm Cooper. I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi Cooper," the group replied.

"I haven't really shared in a while. I've enjoyed listening to others talk these past weeks, but I am kind of happy about something and scared of it at the same time.

"Last winter, I was really lost. I figured I was destined to be lonely for a long, long time. But I have some new friends — in addition to the ones here — and I feel love again. I never thought I could or would again."

Ophelia winked at me.

"I don't think I'm completely over the hurt and betrayal of last Christmas, but ... we've worked through it. I think I have to learn that everyone is human, and we all mistakes. I certainly can't expect perfection from others when I myself am so spectacularly flawed. But sometimes I think we choose how happy we want to be. What do I want to hang on to, you know? The pain? Or finding love? I ... guess it is time for me to commit. A little bit of me is scared. But that's just being human, right? Love feels good. I feel good again.

"Thanks."

The group clapped.

 

 

* * * *

In a recent chapter, I encouraged my notification list to ask me a question. I've put my favorites in a new blog post.

timothylane414stories.blogspot.com

If you would like to be notified when new chapters are posted, just send me a note.

Although we are now 2/3 the way through chapters, we haven't quite reached the halfway point in page count. Cooper has an end-of-year situation that should grab you by the shirt collar. Hang on.