Date: Thu, 13 Jan 2000 11:33:34 EST
From: Ivrys88@aol.com
Subject: "Philip and I"

PHILIP AND I by K. Nitsua. Copyright 2000 by the author.

It was three years ago this past spring that it all happened. Until we went
to that education conference together, I had thought of Philip as my best
straight friend. When you're working in a place that's not gay-friendly,
you divide your social life into straight and gay. St. Jude Preparatory
Academy, where I had taught English composition for three years, was a
small and exclusive private high school. It guaranteed parents a good
education for their children--and almost certain admission into a top
college--if they could pay the exorbitant tuition. It was not gay-friendly.

I had arrived at the school thirty-five years old, nervous, and, I feared,
past my prime. It's difficult to make a living teaching, and I knew I was
lucky to get the job. At places like St. Jude there's always a social order
based on the length of one's employment, and I got used to being ignored by
some of the haughtier senior masters. They were waiting to see whether I
made it past my probationary period before they bothered to learn my name.

Philip had been teaching at St. Jude fifteen years when I arrived, but he
was different. During the first week of class we met in the faculty
mailroom. He extended his hand and said, "You're Ray Kincaid, the new
English master, aren't you? I'm Philip Ramsey, art department. Welcome to
St. Jude. Let me know if I can be of any help."

"Thanks, Philip. I'm glad to meet you," I replied, immediately charmed. In
the reserved Eastern atmosphere of St. Jude Philip had retained the
openness of his mid-Western youth. He was in his late forties, though no
one thought he looked his age. He was tall and solidly built, with strong
features just turning craggy. His salt and pepper hair accentuated a pair
of intensely blue eyes. He smiled easily, showing even white teeth. He was
an immensely popular instructor at St. Jude, capable of making female
students giggle by waving a friendly greeting as he walked by in the
hallway.

As an art master Philip spent much time around messy and even hazardous
materials. His usual attire on campus was a work shirt, jeans and heavy
hiking shoes or boots. Dressed thus, he was a gay man's fantasy come to
life, and I let my imagination run wild, before I learned to my chagrin
that he had been married for twenty-five years. He and his wife had two
teenage sons. There was a small group of gay faculty at St. Jude, and I was
assured by Jordan Heise, the tart-tongued German master, over dinner one
evening, that Philip Ramsey had never run with our crowd. Ever.

"Alas, no, Ray, he's straight as an arrow and just about as boring. Too
bad, he is quite the butch daddy--if one covets that type, which I gather
you do?" he said somewhat disdainfully. Jordan's proclivities lay in the
other direction; he always had a crush on one or another of his male
students, though he lived in dread of being accused of acting on his loudly
verbalized desires.

"I didn't say that, Jordan. I just wanted to know, and I knew I could get
the truth from you. You do after all know everything about everybody on
this campus."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Jordan replied, trying and failing to
sound offended. He took a sip of wine, then added, "I'm surprised you're
pining after unattainable straight men. You could have anybody you wanted."

"Thanks, Jordan, but I'm telling you again--I'm not after Philip. If
anything, he's been paying an awful lot of attention to me lately."

Jordan snorted. "What on earth do you mean--he corners you in the faculty
men's room and insists on giving you head?"

"No, nothing like that," I replied, annoyed. "He's just really friendly,
that's all."

"Ray," Jordan said with exaggerated patience, "Philip is
Mr. Congeniality. I mean, he's one of the few straight men at St. Jude that
I can stand, and that's saying a lot. But believe me, he's not looking to
play the other side of the fence. Don't you think he would have done
something about it before now?"

I had to admit Jordan was probably right. Still, Philip seemed to enjoy my
company, calling from time to time and suggesting lunch together. We would
sit over sandwiches and multiple cups of coffee in the school cafeteria, or
in a nearby cafe, and chat, mostly about school politics. Philip had been
at St. Jude long enough to have been burned by some of the unscrupulous
maneuvering that always seems to go on in educational institutions. He
talked ruefully about the department chairmanship that had seemed destined
for him five years ago, but that had gone to a master with less seniority.

"I tell you, Ray, I nearly left after all that happened," he said one
February day in the cafeteria. "I sent out half a dozen resum^Īs that
year. Even got one job offer, at a higher salary than here. But it would
have been at a larger school in a big city...not nearly as nice a place to
raise kids. Carol was happy with her business here--she was just starting
to build up a real clientele." Philip's wife was an interior designer. "She
was pretty upset about the idea of leaving. So we stayed."

"How do you feel about that, Phil?" I asked. I tried not to stare at him,
but it was hard to restrain myself. "Your boys certainly turned out well."
Philip was proud of his sons, who excelled in sports and academics at
St. Jude. Mike and John had not only inherited their father's sunny
disposition but also his strapping good looks.

"They do all right, don't they?" Phil replied, smiling as he did whenever
his sons were mentioned. "Mike is thinking of applying to Yale. He didn't
think he had a realistic shot at it, but I've been encouraging him."

"That's great. And how's Carol?" I asked. I had met Philip's wife only a
few times. Carol was not often seen on campus, even at social events where
most of the masters brought their spouses. I sometimes wondered why.

"Carol's fine." Philip's smile faded. He said, changing the subject, "Ray,
are you planning on going to that teaching conference at Holyoke next
month?"

"Well, sort of," I replied. "The department gave me funding, but only
enough to cover a double room at the hotel. The problem is that I can't
find anyone to room with from here. So I may have to cover the difference
between a double and a single myself, and that's going to add up over four
days."

"I could room with you," Philip said. This was a surprise--I had known he
was going, but assumed that Carol was accompanying him. I said as much.

"No, Carol's not going," my friend answered. "Her business has been booming
lately and she can't take the time off. And, Ray," he added, "If you'll
keep this between us ... things are not so great right now at home. We
could use the time apart," he said, smiling a little crookedly. "I'll tell
you all about it at the conference."

"Phil," I said, genuinely surprised, "I'm sorry that you and Carol are
having problems. You don't have to tell me any more than you want to. But
if I'll have the pleasure of your company at Holyoke, I'm happy about that,
anyway," I said.

"Thanks, Ray. Listen, I've got to get back to class. We can work out the
details later, OK?" Philip got up from the table. He paused by my side, and
laid a hand on my shoulder. I looked up into eyes that seemed even more
blue than usual. "I'm looking forward to it," he said, and turned and
left. I sat there with my coffee cup and empty plate, trying to control my
excitement.

I had been lying, of course, when I had told Jordan that I wasn't attracted
to Philip. My heart gave a leap every time he shook my hand or gave my
shoulder a friendly tap in passing. The prospect of sharing a hotel room
with him for several nights was unsettling. At such close quarters I didn't
know if I could keep my feelings concealed, and I wasn't sure how Philip
would react if he realized I was lusting after him.

I didn't have much time to dwell on the problem during the next three busy
weeks. Finally, the departure day came. Despite everything, my spirits were
high. It always felt good to get away from the usual routine, and I would
have the company of a good friend. It wasn't Philip's fault that his very
presence caused me such turmoil.

After an uneventful plane ride we took a cab from the airport and arrived
at the hotel. Checking in went equally smoothly, and soon we were in our
room. After we unpacked, Philip suggested dinner. I was hungry too, so we
walked out of the hotel and down the street. Finding a quiet place a few
blocks away, we sat down to a leisurely meal and a bottle of wine. Philip
seemed happy and relaxed, and I realized how tired he had often looked
lately. I recalled his promise to confide in me, and wondered if he
remembered.

"Ray, is something the matter?" Philip asked.

Jolted out of my thoughts, I stuttered, "Um, no. Why?"

"You were staring at me as if you'd never seen me before. I was wondering
if my hair was sticking up, or my shirt was buttoned wrong or something,"
he said.

Embarrassed and off guard, I said, "Actually, Phil, I was thinking how
great you look. Traveling really seems to agree with you."

Not at all put off by my compliment, Philip smiled and said, "Thanks, Ray."
A pause, then he said, "Listen, I'm really glad we're here together. Having
you as a friend means a lot to me. It's helped me through these last few
months. I started to tell you once, remember?"

His unexpectedly affectionate words, combined with fatigue and the wine,
made me dizzy. "Phil," I protested weakly, "Like I said before, you don't
need to tell me anything..."

"But I want to, Ray. There's been a lot going on with me."

He leaned forward across the table toward me, his eyes piercing me again. I
began to feel nervous as well as dizzy.

"Are you sure this is a good place to talk? Maybe we should go back to the
hotel," I said.

"Good idea. It's getting late." He motioned to the waiter and paid the
check, waving away my protest. We left the restaurant and walked back in
silence. On the way we passed some colleagues from other schools, also here
for the conference. They smiled and greeted us, but we waved and walked
on. We entered the lobby and took the elevator. Philip strode ahead of me
down the hall toward our room. Not for the first time I admired his tall
frame, broad shoulders and straight back from behind. He unlocked the door
and I followed him in. After clicking on the light, Philip kicked off his
shoes and stretched out on the bed. Putting his hands behind his head, he
said, "God, I'm tired." Not knowing what else to do, I sat in the one
armchair in the room. After a moment, Philip said, "Ray, you are a
gentleman."

"You flatter me."

"No, you really are. I've dropped hints, strung you along for weeks, and
you've never tried to get me to talk before I'm ready. I appreciate that."

"Just how bad is it?" I asked, without ceremony.

"Bad. Carol and I are getting a divorce."

"Philip, I'm so sorry," I said. "I had no idea."

"Hold on," Philip said with his ironic grin. "I haven't told you why." He
sighed again. "Well, here goes. God, I can't believe how nervous I am," he
said with a short laugh. "Ray, we got married when we were both still in
college. I loved Carol--still do--and I knew she would make a great wife
and mother. She's lived up to her part of the bargain. I'm the one who's
fucked up," he said with abrupt bitterness.

"Aren't you being a little hard on yourself?" I said.

"I don't think so. Ray, I've lied to everyone for twenty-five
years. Carol's trying to understand, but she's just devastated--and
furious. The boys know we're splitting but they don't know why. We can't
think of a way to tell them."

From the moment Philip had started to talk, I knew what was bothering him,
but I wanted him to say it.

"How long have you known?"

"That I was gay?" Philip replied. "There, I said it. The world didn't come
to an end."

"It usually doesn't," I said. "Lightning strikes from heaven are a fairly
rare occurrence these days."

A hint of a smile appeared on Philip's face. "You're right, I was
grandstanding." His face grew somber again. "But I'm a pretty despicable
bastard no matter how you slice it."

Looking at his tired face, I dimly realized the hell Philip must be going
through. I tried to think of something comforting to say. "It's not that
simple, Phil. I'm sure you had your reasons."

"I can't pretend I ever thought I was really straight," Philip said, more
to himself than to me. "I'd messed around with other guys in high school
and college--I knew I had these feelings before I married Carol, but I
didn't want to have them. I was a coward--I couldn't face being
different--being an outcast. It worked for a while, too. We really were
happy, I think. We had two great kids, jobs we liked, a house of our
own. Once in a while, when I was out of town, I'd look for some guy as
closeted as me. It was never hard to find one. I've always played safe, of
course. I'm a considerate liar and cheat, at least."

"Well," I said, "for what it's worth, you've fooled everyone. No one at
school suspects a thing, not even Jordan. He told me that you were straight
as an arrow and just as boring." Realizing how cutting that sounded, I
added hastily, "You know Jordan."

Philip laughed. "Well, when all this gets around--as I'm sure it
will--maybe Herr Heise will find me more interesting."

I took the opening he had provided before I could stop myself. "He wouldn't
be the first."

Philip looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

I was in this too deep to back out. I looked up at the ceiling, around the
room, anywhere but at him. "Do you know how handsome you are?"

I finally managed to look at my friend. He was looking back at me, but I
could read nothing on his face. "Ray, what are you saying?"

I had made the decision to speak and words now spilled from me. "I'm saying
that you've been a friend to me from the time I came to St. Jude. You're
one of the few wholly decent people I know."

Philip smiled slightly. "Now who's flattering who?"

"It's the truth. And you're absolutely gorgeous. I've been miserable
knowing that I wanted you and could never have you, and here you are
telling me that you're gay. I have no right to hope you might think of me
as even a little bit more than a friend--but I'm hoping anyway."

There was total silence. I didn't even breathe, sitting frozen, certain of
rejection, waiting only to hear how Philip would phrase it. Instead of
speaking, Philip rose from the bed and came toward the chair in which I was
still sitting. He knelt in front of me and placed one big hand over
mine. It felt warm and rough.

I looked at the face of the man I had wanted for so long and saw that his
usually piercing eyes were now soft. "I owe you an apology," Philip
said. "I could have said all of this months ago and saved you a lot of
agony. Ray, I've wanted you from the first time I saw you. You're the
reason why I'm coming out, being honest with myself for the first time in
my miserable life--it's you." He smiled at my open-mouthed amazement--I was
speechless.

"Jesus," I finally managed to say. "You have been stringing me along."

Philip's smile faded. "I know. Can you forgive me?"

I turned my hand over under his and began to smile, slowly, finally
believing this might actually be happening. As our fingers intertwined, I
said, "Kiss me and I'll think about it." I reached out with my other hand
and tapped him, gently, on the cheek--the first time I had ever touched him
anywhere other than his hand.

Philip's eyes were wide, questioning, his hand holding mine tightly. His
lips parted but no sound emerged. Letting my other hand rest on his cheek,
I slowly leaned forward and touched my lips to his, very gently. I drew
back, then kissed him again, this time letting my tongue enter his open
mouth. It touched his, and suddenly I was down on the floor with him as his
arms went around me, our mouths grinding together, our tongues tangling,
our teeth clashing in a frantic passionate kiss. We broke apart and looked
into each other's wild eyes.

"Jesus," Philip said. His hands cupped my face and he kissed me again. This
time we ended up both lying on the carpeted floor, me on top, squeezing the
breath out of each other as if we were trying to merge and become one. I
drew myself upward and began to unbutton his shirt. Phil's pectoral slabs
were broad and lightly covered with graying hair, dark and prominent
nipples on each one. His stomach was still flat, though not defined.

"I'm not exactly a model," Philip said.

I smiled into his eyes. "Your body is just what a man's body ought to be,"
I said. I meant it too. Seeing Philip without his clothes for the first
time was giving me a thrill beyond words. I unbuckled his belt and drew
down the zipper on his slacks, running my hand over the hard bulge in the
white cotton underneath. I hooked the fingers of my left hand under the
waistband of his briefs and pushed them down. The dark head of Phil's cock
emerged, already stained with clear fluid, crowning the long, straight,
heavily veined shaft.

I stripped Philip's lower body completely before I looked at him again. He
was looking back at me, his eyes lustful yet a bit anxious, still worried I
wouldn't approve of what I saw. How wrong he was. I smiled again and said
one word, "Nice," before bending down and taking him in my mouth without
ceremony. Philip gasped. One hand grasped the back of my head as I began to
slide up and down on his rod with long, ardent strokes. Sucking him was
everything I imagined it was going to be. I increased my pace as my passion
rose.

"Ray, ease up a minute, will you?"

"Am I hurting you?" I asked, letting him go.

Philip laughed, "Hell, no. I was just about to blow. I want this to last a
little longer than that. Why don't we get a little more comfortable, for
starters?"

Naked, we embraced again on the bed, me feeling the muscles in the broad
expanse of his back. Philip was gentle and tender in his lovemaking, giving
me little nips and kisses on my neck and throat, working his way down to my
nipples. "It feels so good to be with you like this, Ray," he whispered. He
slowly caressed each of my nipples with his tongue until I was writhing
with pleasure. Then he moved down and took my cock in his mouth. He wasn't
very good at giving a blow job, but it didn't matter. I was ready to blast
my load right then and there. But I wanted my formerly straight friend to
have the ultimate experience with another man, so I gently signaled that I
wanted out from underneath him.

"What is it, Ray?" Philip asked.

"I just need to get some stuff out from my bag."

"I have condoms and lubricant in my toilet kit."

Philip laughed again at what must have been a very surprised expression on
my face. "I cannot tell a lie, Ray. I was hoping something might happen. I
came prepared."

"I guess you did," I said, shaking my head.

"Don't go away," Philip winked at me as he got up, and, turning his back to
me, bent and rummaged in the small nylon bag he had placed on a nearby
table. My cock gave another leap upward at the sight of his strong back and
still firm butt. I couldn't get enough of looking at Philip the way I had
always fantasized seeing him. I had wanted him to fuck me, but now I began
to wonder if maybe he could be persuaded to switch off. Probably not, I
thought. As a guy just starting to experiment with gay sex, he'd want to go
slowly. Maybe next time.

Phil came back toward the bed, holding a foil package in one hand and a
small plastic bottle in another. His erect cock swung heavily in front of
him, another mouth-watering sight. He climbed onto the bed, throwing the
condom onto the spread, and hitched himself forward on his knees toward
me. When he got close enough I took the bottle from him and squeezed out a
bit of the cold gel into my palm, letting it warm up just a bit before I
applied it to his dick as he knelt in front of me. Philip's eyes grew
dreamy with pleasure as I did this.

"Like that?" I asked, figuring I probably knew the answer.

"What do you think?" Philip smiled. I took the condom and ripped open the
package, then positioned the circle of latex over the head of his dick. I
stopped as a slight frown appeared on my partner's handsome face.

"Anything the matter?"

Philip said, hesitantly, "No. It's just that--I thought you were going to
fuck me."

Now I laughed. I couldn't help it. "What's so funny?" Philip demanded, not
quite annoyed but getting there.

I shook my head as I regained control. "You are full of surprises, my
friend." I explained what had been running through my head a few moments
earlier.

Philip's smile was wistful. "If you only knew how often I've dreamed of
taking another man's cock. That's something I've never done. I want you to
show me what it feels like."

Still holding the condom, I put my other arm around his neck and kissed
him. "Hell, who says we can't do it both ways? If you're up to it," I
leered, giving a twisting stroke to the greased pole of flesh jutting from
his body before unrolling the condom carefully over it.

Philip made a little noise of pleasure. "Oh yeah, I think I am."

"It's all yours, baby." I got on my hands and knees and turned my back to
him. "I think you'll like the view from this position," I said. "Just ease
up behind me. I'll help you. First lube me up."

In a moment I felt Philip's hand began to apply the gel to the crack of my
ass. His fingers hesitantly touched the soft flesh of my asshole and
involuntarily I shivered with pleasure.

"Push your finger in."

He obeyed, and I closed my eyes, drinking in the sensation of being
penetrated, anticipating greater delights to come. "So soft in there," he
said. After a moment, he withdrew, gently pushed my legs apart and got
behind me. I felt the blunt head of his cock bump against me between my
cheeks, trying to find the entrance. I reached behind, grasping the
condom-covered shaft, and guided it against my hole. "There it is,
baby. Push."

The pressure increased, then I let out a short cry as the head of Philip's
cock broke through the ring of muscle at the entrance and slid inside. "Are
you okay?" he asked anxiously.

Actually it was hurting but I knew it would be okay in a minute. "Fine,
Phil," I managed. "Just stay there a moment."

Sure enough, the pain receded and warm fullness took its place. "Okay, keep
going."

All my concentration was focused on the sensations flooding my insides as
Philip's cock slowly made its way through my rectum, pushing past my
prostate and sending a new wave of pleasure through my loins. I moaned
involuntarily with the sensory overload. Soon I could feel his body
pressing up against my butt and I knew I had taken him into me as far as I
could. "How's it feel, guy?" I asked.

He bent until his head was directly behind mine and I could feel his rapid
warm breath on my neck. "Ray," he said, his voice full of emotion. "You
can't imagine... this is a dream come true. Thanks."

I smiled at his thanking me, when I was the one who was receiving the gift
of his cock. "The pleasure's all mine, Phil. Now fuck me."

He moved his hips experimentally. "Like this?"

"Uh huh. Just like that. Harder, guy, this faggot can take that rough
straight man dick. C'mon."

Philip laughed with delight. The sound was music to my ears. He obediently
stepped up the pace of his motions. "Like this?"

"Uh huh," I repeated. His arms surrounded my chest, his body enveloping
mine. After a bit, I said, "You want to see something hot?"

"Hotter than this?" Phil asked, still thrusting enthusiastically.

"Yep. Straighten up, then look down. You'll see what I mean."

Philip obeyed, placing his hands on my hips. After a moment, he let out a
soft whistle. "Whew, nice."

"Tell me what you see."

"My cock sliding in and out of your beautiful butt. Very hot." He began to
vary the pace of his thrusts, withdrawing slowly, then plunging in hard and
making me grunt, then pulling out again with agonizing slowness.

"One of the most erotic sights known to man," I said, grunting again as he
drove his cock home.

"Mm hmm. I had no idea. God damn, this is incredible," Phil began to speed
up his thrusting again. I had no idea how long he could keep this up, but I
was thoroughly enjoying myself. His joy at each new discovery was making me
hotter than I'd been in a long time. I reached down and began to jack
myself off while he continued to fuck me.

"Ray, are you going to cum?" Philip asked above me.

"I could, real easy," I said.

My friend reached underneath and stopped me by grasping my arm. "Not yet,
buddy. Remember you promised."

"Still want to?"

"God, yes, more than ever, now that I see how much you like it." Abruptly
he pulled out of me. I clenched my hole once or twice, feeling the
emptiness he had left behind. "Now it's my turn."

I got up from the bed and grabbed another condom from Philip's bag, tore it
open and turned holding it in my hand. Philip had already turned away from
me and assumed the position, the condom he had been wearing discarded on
the floor. His eagerness made me chuckle. As much as I enjoyed seeing his
butt, I had other plans. I returned to the bed and placed a hand on his
back. He looked up expectantly.

"Want me to show you another way?" I asked.

"Sure," Philip agreed.

"Flip over on your back, guy." He obeyed, and I clambered onto the bed
between his legs. "This is my favorite position," I said. "I like to see my
partner's face when I'm fucking him. Let's get you nice and ready."

"Will it hurt, Ray?" Philip asked, a bit anxious.

"A bit," I replied honestly, "But just a little. I'm going to take it real
slow and get you all nice and loosened up. Trust me and try to relax,
okay?"

Philip smiled. "Okay, teacher."

I thought I'd give Phil the full treatment, so I bent forward, lifting his
legs in the air. After sucking on his cock again for a few moments, I
gradually moved downward, washing his big balls, then gradually moving
behind his ball sac toward my real target. I felt him stiffen a bit as he
realized what was going on.

"Ray--are you sure? You don't have to do that."

"Phil," I said, my voice a bit muffled, "Believe me, I want to. Don't worry
about me." I had reached the crevice between his buttocks, where the taut
skin between his legs gave way to the velvety, musky smoothness of his
asshole. I began wetting it copiously with my spit, flicking my tongue
rapidly over the sensitive flesh, and was rewarded by the first soft groan
of pleasure from Philip. Thus encouraged, I thrust my tongue hard into his
hole, moving it around as much as could. Philip cried out.

"Like it?" I asked, momentarily pausing.

"Oh God! I've never felt anything this good in my life."

"Just wait, it gets better." I redoubled my efforts. Philip whimpered and
thrashed above me. I didn't stop rimming him until I knew he was completely
helpless. At that moment, I could have finished him off simply by taking
his cock again in my mouth. He would have shot in no time, he was that
hot. But I was determined to give him what he had asked for, so I gave him
a moment's respite while I reached for the lube and squeezed it over my
fingers.

Philip began to grunt with pleasure again as I applied the gel, pushing
first one finger, then two, into the opening. "Doing okay?" I asked,
looking at his dreamy face.

"Wonderful. It doesn't hurt at all so far."

"You're doing great. Just stay with me, guy."

I straightened up and swiftly tore open the condom wrapper. I unrolled it,
put it on my cock and lubed the outside, feeling Phil's eyes on me the
whole time. At last, I was ready. Grasping his calves, I lifted his legs
slowly and placed them on my shoulders, looking into his eyes bright with
anticipation. I then took my cock and placed it between his cheeks, probing
with one finger until I located his hole. I made sure the tip was in the
right place before I slowly began to push forward.

Philip's breathing deepened as I felt his sphincter begin to give. All of a
sudden I broke through the barrier and felt his muscles grab the head of my
dick as it slid inside. His face tightened in pain. "Shit," he said softly.

I nodded. "It's going to hurt a little the first time. I won't go any
further for a minute. Take some deep breaths, try and relax. Try pushing
out."

Philip obeyed, and his face relaxed. "Better," he said.

"Good." I waited a moment longer, then began to push forward again. A long
sigh welled up from my partner. "Doing okay?" I asked.

Phil nodded. "I've never felt like this before. It's weird, but... damn
nice." He closed his eyes and I could tell he was trying to focus on every
sensation in his body. His cock was still stiff and leaking clear fluid
onto his belly. I figured that was a good sign.

My pubic bone hit a barrier and I looked down. I was completely inside
Phil's body, pressed firmly against his butt. I began to withdraw and saw
my shaft emerge, taking some of the soft flesh of his asshole with
it. Damn, that was a hot sight. I pushed gently into him, withdrew again,
and this time plunged in harder. As I withdrew this time I felt Phil's
rectum tighten. Surprised, I looked at him. He smiled.

"You doing that on purpose?"

"You like it?"

"It's great."

"Guess I'm learning," Phil said. He placed a hand on the back of my neck
and drew my face down to his. We kissed as I began to thrust into him with
a steady, gradually accelerating rhythm.

"Fuck me," Phil said softly, his eyes dark, his pupils dilated with
desire. "Fuck me, Ray."

"You got it," I replied. Seeing Philip, the man of my dreams, bent double
beneath me in this glorious, obscene position was making me lose what
little control I had left. I stepped up the pace of my thrusts another
notch, rising a bit and taking his cock in my hand. After a few moments,
Philip replaced it with his own, masturbating in rhythm with my thrusts.

 We continued to look into each other's eyes, not wanting to miss a single
one of the myriad emotions playing across our faces, in total communication
as simultaneous climaxes started to gather in our conjoined bodies.

"I'm getting close," Philip said.

"Go for it, guy. I'm with you. I want us to cum together."

"Yes," Phil whispered through gritted teeth, then fell silent as his hand
stroked his cock faster and faster. His breathing thickened into harsh
gasps, then hoarse grunts. "I'm... cumming!" He threw his head back, his
face contorted.

A second later I felt his asshole throb as the first jets of thick white
fluid shot from the pulsating, purple head of his dick. The cum fell in
long ropes across his chest and stomach. With one last thrust I sent myself
over the edge in turn, squeezing my eyes shut and crying out as I felt my
load burst up from my balls and out the end of my own cock buried deep
within his body. I emptied myself into him in long, ecstatic
gushes. Fleetingly I wished my sperm was really filling his gut rather than
going into a rubber.

For moments, there was no sound except our breathing and grunting as both
of us reeled with the force of our simultaneous orgasms. At last, I started
to come down. I opened my eyes, and saw that Philip was looking at me, a
stray drop of cum clinging to his chin, his chest still rising and falling
rapidly. His unguarded expression was serious and strangely regretful. Then
he smiled and the moment passed. "Christ," was all he said. I couldn't say
a word, but simply collapsed onto his chest.

We lay on the bed still joined, Philip's cum sticky between us, for a while
longer. Finally, I said to him, "Stay there. I'll get us cleaned up."

I raised my body and began to withdraw from him, slowly and
reluctantly. Phil's ass muscles tightened involuntarily as I backed out, as
if his body didn't want to let me go either. He grunted as the head of my
dick finally popped out of him. "I think I'm going to feel this tomorrow,"
he said, lowering his legs and stretching his long lanky body out on the
bed.

"You might," I agreed. "I know I will." I went into the bathroom, took off
my condom and grabbed a towel. Back in the room, I wiped us both down
carefully, then got back on the bed next to Philip. We lay in each other's
arms in silence, looking at the ceiling.

Out of my drained contentment a little thought began to stir. "Phil?" I
said.

"What?"

"What were you thinking about right after?"

"Right after what?"

I struggled to form my thoughts into words. "Just after I--came, I looked
at you, and you had such a funny expression on your face."

Phil looked at me and shook his head ruefully. "Can't get anything past you
and your steel trap mind." He turned his gaze away and sighed. "I hope you
won't take this wrong, but--I was thinking about Carol."

"Carol?" I was surprised.

Phil's expression was somber again. "Yes, Carol--and the boys. I
guess--until now, I had a tiny little hope that, if I tried it with another
guy, really did it, I might hate it. Then I could stay the way that I've
been."

He smiled at me shyly. "But I didn't. It was fantastic. One of the
highlights of my life, Ray, no shit. It felt so goddamn right, everything
we did. So now I know I can never go back."

I nodded, trying to imagine how it would feel to discard an entire life. I
couldn't.

"But right at this moment, I don't give a shit," Philip said, pulling me
close. "About my marriage, about the school, even about this damn
conference we're supposedly here for. All I care about is you, and that
cock of yours."

I laughed. "Who'd have thought you'd turn out to be such a slut?"

"I'll take that as a compliment." Philip wiggled his tongue at me playfully
and took hold of the object of his lust, which stirred in response. We
could easily have just gone with the flow again, but there was something I
wanted to say. So I gently pushed his hand away.

"Phil, seriously--this has been great for me too. But I know you married
guys," I said, only half-jokingly. "If we get back home and you decide you
want to back off, do some thinking, cool it a bit, I'll understand."

"I don't think that's going to happen," Philip said.

"All I'm saying is that it's too early to tell. I'm not going anywhere,
buddy. I'll still come to school and speak to you in the cafeteria whether
we're lovers or whatever. I'll always be your friend."

Philip looked at me intensely in that way which had already captivated
me. "Do you mean that, Ray?" I looked him lying there on his side, his head
propped up on one elbow, the thick rope of his own cock still swollen, his
balls hanging heavily downward. Some feeling stirred within me for which I
wasn't yet prepared.

"Sure," I said. "In fact, Philip, all my best friends are people I've slept
with."

He laughed. "So this was just a test of true friendship?"

"Exactly. You know, I'm not sure you passed. Could we try it again?"

"Kiss me, and I'll think about it," Philip replied, reaching for my face.

As I said, that all happened three years ago. I don't remember anything
about that conference except Philip and me jumping in bed together every
chance we got. The highlight of his life, he said. Well, buddy, it was one
of the highlights of mine too.

It's Commencement today at St. Jude, and the faculty and administration are
all getting robed and ready for the procession. The robing room in the
chapel, where we're gathering before marching out to the main square of the
campus, is crowded and noisy.

I see Philip across the corner of the room. It's a special day for him--his
younger son John is graduating from St. Jude today. He waves at me but he's
too far away to talk. We're not going to be anywhere near each other in the
procession anyway, since we line up by seniority. I've attained the rank of
senior master now myself. As we march out to the strains of "Pomp and
Circumstance" past the rows of admiring parents, relatives and friends, I
can see Philip marching ahead, exchanging a word or two with the master
marching next to him. He's tall and handsome in his academic robes, and I
think how after all these years I still lust after him like a schoolboy.

In the festive crush of people on the square immediately afterward I spot
John Ramsey, Phil's son, first, and congratulate him. He is friendly, but
his mother, Carol, who's with him, is barely civil. I understand,
actually--she still blames me for the upheaval in her life. I wish I could
tell her that Philip would have come out sooner or later, whether he'd met
me or not, but it wouldn't do any good.

Finally I spot Philip, off to one side, surrounded as usual by admiring
students. He sees me too. Extricating himself, he comes toward me, smiling
and waving. The sight of him still makes my heart beat faster. We can't do
more than shake hands out here, of course, but his blue eyes meet mine
meaningfully and his touch lingers just a bit.

"Congratulations, Phil," I say. "You must be very proud."

He's grinning from ear to ear. "Ray, you have no idea. I'm about to
bust. Didn't John look great up there? Have you seen him?"

"He's somewhere over there, with his mother."

Philip's grin turns wry. "Oh yes, his mother. We've all agreed to be civil
for John's sake. I hope we can pull it off."

I nod sympathetically. "Joe's here too, I suppose."

"Oh yeah, his son graduated today too." Phil rolls his eyes. "We're going
to go out to dinner tonight, supposedly--me, Carol, Joe, John and Roland,
Joe's boy. Could get very interesting. Hey, Ray, are you doing anything
tonight? Want to come along and join the fun?"

I can't help laughing at Philip's optimism, and his kindness. "Thanks,
Phil, but I'll pass. Besides, think about it. Your ex-wife, ex-lover, and
lover, all at one table? That's too much even for you."

Philip grinned. "I see your point. Well, got to go gather up the troops."
He steps forward then and hugs me. "You're great, Ray." I hug him back,
surprised and grateful. "Catch you later."

"Bye." I watch him go, filled with mixed emotions.

Thinking back, the way things turned out shouldn't have been a shock. The
guy who brings you out is never going to be the one you settle down
with. I'd hoped Philip would be an exception to the rule, of course, but it
was not to be. Because he's the kind of man he is, and because I was
determined to keep my promise, Philip and I are still friends. And Joe is a
nice guy--even if he is another married man who figured it out a little
late in the day.

I walk back toward my office, through the gradually thinning crowd. The
classroom buildings are pretty much deserted today, of course, and the
empty hallways reflect my mood. I decided to stop by the mail room, not
because I think there's anything there, but just for something to do.

As I approach the open doorway, I see to my surprise that someone else is
there. His back is to me, and I can't help noticing that whoever it is has
a butt that fills out his gray wool dress slacks very nicely. He turns as I
enter and nods diffidently. It's one of the new masters, whose name I
haven't yet learned, blond, attractive, a bit fey, and very young.

I remember how Philip and I had first met in here, and how grateful I was
for his friendly handshake. I reach out my own hand, and say, "Hello. I'm
Ray Kincaid in the English Department. I don't believe we've met."

His face lights up as he shakes my hand. "Bill Lewis. I've just finished my
first year in History."

"I see."

Bill says, "I was just at Commencement. It's my first here, and--I guess I
was a bit overwhelmed."

I make the dismissive gesture of an old-timer. "Believe me, you'll get used
to it very quickly." Then, I go out on another limb, and say, "I think
they're serving coffee in the Commons today. Want to go have some?"

Bill beams. "That would be great."

I realize I'm still wearing my academic robe. "Just let me stop by my
office and strip down--not all the way, of course," I say jokingly. He
laughs a bit too loud as his eyes meet mine for a split second. We leave
the mailroom together and walk down the hallway chatting like old
friends. I'm thinking this could be a fun summer.

END