Copyright © 2001 by Lyle Wilkerson
Rob left me on the couch and went back to the kitchen, then returned to the living room, sat down next to me, put his arm around me and handed me a glass of red wine. "Here, sip this, and I mean sip, don't gulp. It'll be good for you."
"Yes sir," I politely answered. After a couple of sips I put the glass down on the coffee table in front of us and, in my imitation of a timid little boy, asked, "May I please have a cigarette?" Rob got up and fetched one back, lighting it before giving it to me. I took a long drag, exhaled and snuggled into Rob next to me. "I'm sorry I got sick."
"That's okay, just don't do it again."
"Oh, and I'm sorry I threw up on you."
"That's not okay, but you're forgiven, and don't do that again, please."
I continued to smoke my cigarette, letting Rob take a few drags off of it. Rob played with my damp hair. After a bit he asked, "Why did you go running?"
"Well, I was anxious to see you and got here thirty minutes early. I figured I'd go running to kill the time and get all worn out like Prince Clayton should be after pounding across the countryside fleeing to safety." Then I remembered what was supposed to have happened with Rob and me tonight. Well, so much for the best laid plans. "I'm sorry I messed up the game."
"Well, it's not exactly the way I had planned, but it's still my mission to take care of you tonight. Let's forget about the game; we can do it some other time. Tell me all the gory details about coming out to your parents today."
That thought brightened me up, so I settled into Rob, who put his arms around me, and gave him the full story. After talking and laughing about the whole event Rob commented, "Your parents are really super."
"Yeah. I don't know why I was ever worried about saying anything to them. I knew all along there wouldn't be any problems once they knew I was queer, but still, I was nervous."
"I know the feeling," replied Rob, obviously thinking about something. After about five seconds he told me, "Stay here, I'll be right back." I sat up to let Rob get off the couch, then leaned over to retrieve my wine glass and have another drink. Rob returned from the bedroom and sat down next to me saying, "I got a question for you."
I sat my wine glass back down on the table and asked, naturally, "What is it?"
"Clayton, when you say you're now out of the closet, you mean you're fully and completely out and you don't want to have to hide anything from anybody, is that right?"
"Yes."
"Does that include me? By that I mean that we're not just two friends, but two gay guys who want to openly date and be together, and it doesn't matter who knows or sees us?"
"Hell yes, that more than anything else. I'm sick and tired having to sneak around with you behind other people's backs."
Rob extended his closed right hand toward me then opened it, revealing a gold ring in his palm. "This is for you."
I was rather surprised, really surprised in fact. Before I could say anything Rob continued, "Before you put it on, there's something on the inside you need to read."
Taking the ring from him I looked at it and could see there was an inscription on the inside, and not just little scratched on letters; these were deeply carved into the metal. Holding it up for a better look, what I read was: "For Clayton, With All My Love, Rob."
I just sat there on the couch. Words would not come to me. This fantastic man loved me, he really did love me. I looked at Rob, back at the ring, then again at Rob, my mouth trying to move but nothing would come out. A worried look came over Rob's face and he ducked his head down, then looked back at me with tears starting to form in his eyes as he began to stammer, "Clayton, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to . . . ." Rob couldn't finish his statement; he just ducked his head down again.
Clayton, you imbecile. You're sitting here like a complete dummy and Rob thinks you don't love him.
I lunged at Rob, grabbing him as hard as I could, managing to get the words out between my sobs, "No, it's not that. I do love you. I just can't believe its finally happening."
We sat there wrapped together on the couch. The waterworks earlier in the shower were nothing compared to the ones we were now sharing. We couldn't talk. We just grabbed, kissed and happily cried for what seemed an hour or more. Little bits and pieces of Rob's explanation spilled out between his crying and gasping. He had been in love with me for months and he knew that I was in love with him ever since that morning after the Halloween party. He had bought the ring months ago but waited to give it to me until I came out. He had not wanted to put any pressure on me; he didn't want to do anything that would push me out of the closet until I was ready to do it on my own in my own way. He thought that if he had said anything before now he would have placed me in a difficult position, having to face the possibility of denying or hiding the fact I really had a boyfriend or that we were in love in order to preserve my closeted status. Rob had denied his emotional needs for my benefit. What he told me made complete sense, but in a way I also wanted to slug him for waiting to say anything.
We both finally calmed down and broke our hug. Somehow I still had the ring clutched in my right hand; being a little bit of a klutz, I was pleasantly surprised I hadn't dropped it down between the couch cushions. I handed the ring back to Rob and asked him to put it on me, which he did, slipping it on my right ring finger. It fit perfectly.
"How did you know my ring size?" I asked him.
"What do you think, you moron? I measured your finger when you were asleep. I swear, Clayton, I could have cut your finger off, carried it to the jeweler to have it sized and then sewed the finger back on your hand without waking you up."
I'm not a jewelry fan. Never have been. I think people look rather ridiculous wearing all that glittery stuff, particularly men. I don't even wear my wristwatch on my wrist but carry it in my pocket. Yeah, I do have a pierced ear but I only did that to see what kind of a rise I could get out of Dad (it didn't work). Hell, I'm the only one in my class at school who doesn't have a senior ring.
But this ring was perfect. Very simple with a small, geometric design running around it. The best part was that the really important part of it was on the inside where nobody could see it, but Rob and I both knew what was there. I like subtle stuff. I asked Rob, "Why that finger?" After being around gay guys some, I had noticed they wore rings on fingers other than just the third one.
"It's a gay thing. Queers don't do an engagement ring and a wedding ring. You do a single ring, first on the right hand and switch it to the left if you get married. Usually they just do a silver band but I figured you deserved better."
"You want to marry me?" I could not believe this.
"The real question is, Clayton, do you want to marry me? But take your time, you don't have to answer right now."
I was dumbfounded. Not only did Rob love me, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. And then Rob, being Rob, knowing it was time to let things take their time mercifully said, "C'mon. Let's go clean up that mess in the bathroom, if you're up to it."
"Yeah, I feel fine now, a little tired, but I'm fine." Really romantic, huh? The guy I love proposes to me and then we go clean a bathroom together. Weird? Yes, but it works.
In the bathroom, Rob emptied the contents of my shorts pockets and his pants pockets and took our clothes and the towels to the laundry room (after shedding his bathrobe and pulling on some sweatpants and sneakers). I swept and dried the floor using a large wad of toilet tissue. Boy, was there ever a lot of Clayton hair all over the place. Well, probably not all that much but it seemed like a lot. I thought it made a rather impressive pile. To think all of that came off of me, mainly from my crotch.
After finishing in the bathroom I hung up my robe back up behind the door. I've never considered myself a vain person but I couldn't help but stand naked in front of the mirror admiring the view. I started to get a hard on just looking at myself. I turned and went into the bedroom, borrowing a set of gym shorts from one of Rob's dresser drawers to put on. After getting the shorts on, I padded into the living room just as Rob reentered the apartment. As he toed off his sneakers he looked at me and said, "Hey, sexy." He walked over to me, placed his hands on my shoulders and looked me over, obviously admiring me and what he had accomplished. He reached down with his left hand and pulled the waistband of the shorts away and down slightly, then reached in and pulled out my cock, holding it and gently massaging it in his right hand, looking at it, then at me. "That's another thing I like about you, you're a grower, not a shower."
"Huh?
"A grower. You know, a guy whose dick is really little when he's completely soft but gets really big when he's hard. A shower is a guy who always shows pretty much the same amount; big and floppy when it's soft but doesn't get much bigger when he's erect."
"Oh." Rob was right. When I'm soft, particularly if I'm cold, my cock shrinks away next to nothing. Rob's massaging had me back up now, though, and looking at it in his hand, it was big. Really big. Why hadn't I cut back my crotch bush before?
Looking back at me Rob said, "And to think I've been getting fucked with that thing." He let go of my dick and popped the gym shorts back into place with a snap of the elastic waistband trapping my dick against my stomach, then gave me a quick kiss on the forehead and told me, "Sit your ass down and I'll bring supper."
I readjusted my, well, Rob's shorts so my dick wouldn't be sticking out over the waistband and went back over to the couch while Rob went into the kitchen. Strange. I was beginning to feel like part of a domestic couple. Rob returned with a tray covered with cold cuts, little squares of cheese, assorted raw veggies and dip that he sat down on the table at the end of the couch. Seeing the food I became aware how hungry I was; no, not hungry, I was ravenous, so I reached toward the tray to get a bite but Rob gently slapped my hand away. "Don't touch; remember, I'm the one who has to take care of you tonight. You want milk to drink?"
"Yes sir," I answered in my best Clayton the Timid tone of voice, ducking my head down.
Rob came back from the kitchen bearing a large glass of milk and sat it on the end table, then went to the bedroom and returned with a pillow. Sitting down on the end of the couch next to the food, he placed the pillow in his lap and told me, "Come here and lay down in my lap." So I did, with Rob positioning me so that I was stretched out on the couch but with my upper body elevated so I could eat.
Getting washed by Rob earlier had really been something. Being hand fed by him was incredible. Sure, it sounds silly, but it wasn't. All I could do was look at him and let my eyes tell him how much I loved him. Everything was so quiet and gentle. Rob would place a morsel in my mouth and then I would lean my face into his chest, slowly chewing. After swallowing I left my cheek nuzzled against him for a moment, pulling away just long enough for him to feed me another bite or hold the glass to my lips so I could have a drink of milk. We just drifted along together on the couch, neither wanting this special time between us to end. He told me, as I had guessed, that this feeding was something he had planned for the Valet to do for the Prince Regent. As it turned out, having Rob feed Clayton was much better.
This nasty buzzer went off in the kitchen. Rob muttered, "Oh shit, gotta go put the clothes in the dryer." Reluctantly he got up, went to the kitchen and reset the oven timer to remind him later to retrieve clothes from the dryer, put his sneakers on, grabbed some quarters out of a bowl on his desk (like most apartment dwellers, Rob uses the dining area for his office) and left to go back to the laundry room saying "be right back" over his shoulder to me as he went out the door.
I sat back down on the couch and let the day's events replay through my head. I come out to my parents and what happens? Mom pulls the rug out from under me with an "okay, you're gay, big deal, tell me something I don't know." I go over to my best friend's house to play and what happens? I throw up on him, pass out and then he proposes to me. I'm happier and more content right now than I can ever recall being and what have I done? Cry more today than I ever have, first with Dad, then with Rob. What a day.
I got up and went over to Rob's desk to swipe one of his cigarettes. Looking at his desk I recalled that there is something else very special about him: Rob is no dummy. When he had to work the streets, during slow times or bad weather he went to the public library and read; he even got his GED. After he got away from that rotten street existence he bought a computer and taught himself how to use it. He's asked me a few times to help him out with computer things and I've done what I could; that's when I noticed something odd. Rob is the only person I know who does not have any games on his computer, not a single one. On his own time he's created things he can use at work, such as an inventory control and tracking program, not because he had to or needed to, but because he wanted to. When Rob's on the Internet he usually does so to read and learn things, and has also talked about taking college night courses. To meet Rob you'd never suspect he had this serious aspect to him, but he does, and there's nothing fake or pretentious about it.
Rob walked back into the apartment, again toed off his sneakers and walked over to me standing by his desk. Putting his arms around me he gave me a quick kiss, smiled and said, "Hi, hun, I'm back," then kissed me again and asked, "You still hungry?"
"Not for food."
"You horny little fart. You're supposed to take it easy tonight. C'mon, help me put this stuff back up."
After getting the supper things stowed away, Rob and I returned to the couch with a refilled wine glass that we shared. Again I laid down in his lap, but this time without the pillow, fully reclined looking up at him. Rob began to caress me, his fingers and palms wandering over my head, face, shoulders, arms, chest and stomach. His index finger traced circles around my nipples, then downward to explore my belly button. Periodically he would lift my head slightly upward as he bent down to kiss my forehead. We said nothing until Rob broke the silence by softly saying, "You are so amazingly beautiful."
Those were the same words Rob had said to me the first time I had stepped into his apartment nearly a year ago. This memory caused me to recall that night and all the wonderful feelings that had filled me. I closed my eyes and remembered tha t night and the overwhelming desire I had to not just be with Rob, but to worship him, and how he had so graciously accepted what I offered to him. Those recollections triggered the realization that now, at this moment, Rob was worshipping me. He needed me emotionally as well as sexually.
This sounds stupid. Really stupid. For the first time since I'd known him I just then realized that Rob was as queer as I was. Sure, we'd had tons of sex. I knew in my head that Rob was gay, but while I understood that in my mind, I had never before really felt it in my heart. What had started as a physical attraction between us had grown and evolved into an emotional bond. But that bond had not eclipsed the fact that we both had sexual needs and desires. However, sex for us was not just a physical act done for physical pleasure. It had developed another dimension to it and was also an avenue for us to express our emotions to and for one another. Sometimes it was the desire to have fun, but it could also be an expression of love.
Even though Rob and I had always been very open and unrestrained with one another sexually, there had always been a little thought in the back of my mind that what we were doing was just a little bit naughty. Nice boys don't do the things we did. And then those words came back to me: "it's assuredly not an advantage, but nothing to be ashamed of." For the first time it fully hit home with me that there was nothing, absolutely nothing wrong with the desires and love that Rob and I had for one another, nor anything we decided to do in order to express them.
Opening my eyes and looking into Rob's, I was engulfed with the desire to give myself to him, fully and completely without any shame or hesitancy, just as he had done with me that first night. I rose up slightly, reached down and slipped off the shorts I was wearing and laid back down fully naked and exposed before him. I wasn't horny; rather, I was filled with passion for this wonderful man and wanted to confirm that to him.
I reached over and pulled his left arm from underneath my head to my chest and rested my right hand upon his left. I looked back into his eyes and then down again to my hand on his. With my left hand I removed the ring from my right hand and looked back at him. I then slipped the ring onto Rob's ring finger on his left hand and said one word, "Yes."
Rob looked down at me, his gaze running from my eyes down to his hand in mine, back to my eyes then over my entire body before him, then back to my eyes again as a look of understanding came over his face and he softly smiled. Freeing his hand from mine, he placed it under my shoulders indicating I should let him up from the couch. After he rose he turned and took me by the hand pulling me up to my feet. Releasing my hand Rob reached down and removed his sweatpants and tossed them aside leaving him naked before me. Then, looking into my eyes, he removed the ring from his finger and replaced it upon mine, but this time upon my left hand quietly saying those three wonderful words, "I love you." Instinctively, we embraced one another and continued to hold our arms around the other, savoring this moment of commitment.
All good things must come to an end and so did this impromptu, yet personally significant ceremony of ours. The damned buzzer on the oven timer went off again, signaling that the clothes were dry. Rob and I broke our embrace, looked at one another, smiled and then laughed. What a way to start a marriage.
Hey Guys:
Thanks for letting me know you like the story. And, while you're at it, let some of the other authors on Nifty whose stories you enjoy hear from you as well, even if its simply a "Hi. Liked your story very much. Thanks." little note. There are some really cool guys out there, and hearing from readers keeps guys writing.
As for other junk I've written, none of it can be classified as gay male erotica, so it doesn't really belong here on Nifty. But, if you're really bored, you can find it at www.geocities.com/lylester 2001 and also leave me a message there. Yeah, they don't let you post fun pictures and stuff on GeoCities, but the site was free.
Thanks,
Lyle