The Reunion Show – part 11
This story is part true, part
not. I’ve gotten tons of e-mails from guys and even gals
extolling my writing virtues. Call me the next Homer. For
those of you under 30 I’m not talking about Homer Simpson,
either. Y’all have been so kind in your positive comments and I
thank you for that. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get this
next part out. Well, actually it hasn’t taken THAT long, but I
think I’ve spoiled you with how quick I’ve been getting this stuff
out. Gotta keep the fans happy, right? Right! LOL
Constructive criticisms are
welcome also at: mlogan6969@hotmail.com. If you would like
to join my Yahoo! group we'd love to have ya! You'll find it
at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/logans_lit/.
Imagine, a gay guy with the e-mail at “hotmail.” If you don’t
like the story then (as Miss Mona said in the Best Little Whorehouse in
Texas) “don’t gripe and whine behind my back. Just tell me face
to face, I’m open minded, say it all then go upstairs and pack. The
door’s that-a-way!”
I’ve already dedicated one chapter to
one of the best writers on Nifty. If you haven’t read his story,
check it out; it’s in the ‘college’ section called Warm Me Up. If
you like The Reunion Show you’ll absolutely fuckin’ LOVE his
story. Seriously.
I’ll dedicate this part to another
great writer on Nifty. He wrote City of Dreams and he knows who
he is. Michael, hubba hubba! All y’all (that’s Southern for
‘you two’) actually inspired me to write my story and get it out of my
head—so readers, thank them!
Okay, on with it, on with it I
say! (sound of the whip cracking….)
* *
* * *
* * *
* * * *
He smiled a bit at this, but
then the corner of his lips curled down. “I didn’t tell him to
stop.”
“What?” I asked. Tears started
rolling slowly down his cheeks.
“I didn’t tell him to stop,” he
whispered. “When I was young…”
I leaned a little closer and said
softly, “You were just a little boy.”
The tears rolled down even more and
he said in a whisper, “I just wanted him to love me. I just
wanted him to love me.”
“Shhhh, that’s what we all want,” I
said.
Scott opened his eyes a bit and
looked at me. “Maybe I am
crazy.”
“No,” I smiled, “you’re sane.”
He let out a deep breath and said,
“You need to get back to the studio.” At this point the tears
were rolling down my cheeks.
“No. I’m right where I’m
needed.” I held his hand up to my lips and kissed it. I put
it down and watched him drift of to sleep, my heart aching for him.
* *
* * *
* * *
* *
Scott came home the next day and few
days after that the bandages came off his head. Neither one of us
really understood why the hospital had wrapped it—it’s not like his
head was leaking gray matter or anything. The doctors told him to
get plenty of rest and he was pretty good about paying attention to
that. He’d try to help me with my workout but I’d just let him
point out what to do and coach me along. Not that I really needed
that much coaching. Pretty much show me something once and I can
do it after that just fine.
Every once in a while a few people
would head out and go shopping or to a club or whatever but I elected
to stay at the studio with him. He was my friend.
“Mike, come on, I can take care of
myself. I appreciate all your help but you don’t need to hang
around here,” he’d said.
“Tell you what,” I said, “I’ll just
sit and read or listen to my music or whatever.”
“Dude, you need to get out into
creation. Go on, go out with Freddie and Charlie.”
I rolled my eyes. Yipee, I
thought. They weren’t exactly the kind of guys I normally hang
out with, but I figured what the hell. They were nice
enough. Actually, I was just pouting. I really wanted to
hang around Scott. The three of us decided to head out and shoot
some pool at a local bar. I had a nice time after all, even
though I lost half the time I played. When we came back to the
studio later that night Scott was covered with a blanket on the couch,
trying to fall asleep.
“Hey man,” Charlie said, “why don’t
you head back to the room, get some shut-eye.”
“I will,” he said. You could
hear in his voice that he was tired. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Where are the girls?” Freddie asked.
“I think they headed out to
Lennox.” That would be Lennox Square Mall, which is a swanky mall
way north on Peachtree. I’m a teacher, so I can afford less
swanky, like Sears or Jacques Penyay's.
Freddie and Charlie went into the
bedroom and I lingered out in the living room a bit. “How you
feeling?”
“Oh, I feel fine, I’m just having a
hard time getting to sleep,” he said.
“Want me to rub your ass?” I said
with a big grin.
He chuckled, “Some other time,
maybe.” Our couch was a great big sectional in the shape of a
“U”, or a “C”, depending on how you looked at it. Scott was lying
in the middle section with his head near one of the corners. I
plopped down in the corner next to his head. He winced a little
bit. “Oww.”
“Shoot, I’m sorry. I keep
forgettin’ you got a head. I could sit on your lap
instead?” trying to get him to laugh.
“You dork. Don’t worry about
it,” he murmured.
“So how ya feelin’?” I asked.
“Dude, you just asked me that.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry, my
head’s somewhere else I guess.”
We sat there for a moment and then he
said, “That feels good.” I looked down at him and realized that I
must have started rubbing his head unconsciously.
“Sorry man,” I stopped, “I didn’t
know I was doing that,” I chuckled.
“Hey, I didn’t say stop.”
Huh?
He couldn’t see me but I smiled as I
resumed scratching his hair. Scott really has great hair.
It’s thick and probably really wavy if he’d let it grow out more.
I wasn’t trying to be overtly sexual; I was just trying to make him
feel good.
After a few minutes he said, “So
you’re parents never knew about you being gay.”
“Hel-lo!”
I laughed. “Well,
apparently they knew, they just didn’t tell me.” He chuckled at
this. “I mean, I never told them.”
“I know,” he smiled. Perfect
teeth. Oye. “How come you never told them?”
“Good question,” I said, thinking for
a moment. “I guess I was afraid of what they’d say…how they’d
react.”
“But it went well the other night,
right?”
“Oh, hell yeah.” I continued
running my hands through his hair. His eyes were closed and I
could tell he was enjoying my “ministrations.”
“Why do you think it’s so hard to
tell your parents, and I don’t just mean ‘Logan’s parents,’ but any guy
to tell his parents that he’s gay?”
“Well I imagine that for some guys
it’s easy, if sexuality has been talked about a lot, if the guy has a
close relationship with his folks. I’m not sure why it’s easy for
some guys.” I thought about that for a minute.
“Do you wish you had said something
sooner?” he asked.
“I think so. I really think
so. Mom and Dad were so friggin’ cool about it. I guess I
should’ve known that they would be. They were always easy to talk
to growing up. It’s sad but I have known a couple of guys whose
parents have cut off all ties with them. From a parental point of
view I don’t get that. Not that I’m a parent and have that kind
of perspective but I just can’t imagine saying ‘Hey son, don’t lie,
cheat or steal; but really don’t fall in love with a man.’ “
He laughed at this. I looked
down at him, his eyes still closed, and turned my body to face him
more. At this point I started massaging his temples with both
hands. “Mmmm” was the only sound to come from him.
“I think that part of the reason it’s
kind of scary to tell your parents that you’re gay is because, well,
how many parents raising their kids are saying to themselves that their
kids could be straight or gay. They probably just assume that
they’re straight and not even think about anything else, because that’s
what they’re familiar with. And there’s always some sort of
stigma to coming out as a gay guy, except around people who are
gay-friendly. Although I bet it’s a helluva lot easier than it
would be in the 50’s. Yeesh! Hell, now there are rumblings
about different states passing laws allowing gay marriages.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nuh-uh. The religious freaks
really go ballistic on that one. I always thought that if there’s
a separation of church and state, then why can’t the state decide to
have state marriages, or whatever. It’s fine if the churches
don’t—that’s their prerogative and how they wish to lead their
congregations. Ok, I can dig that. But shit,” I joked,”at
least ban Hollywood marriages. Movie stars never stay
together.” He laughed at this. “I’m serious, though.
When you think about it more so-called straight people have screwed up
the lives of children with their cheating, or shacking up, or divorces,
than the mere existence of
gay people ever has.”
“You know Logan,” Scott said, “you
always have a bizarre way of stating the obvious,” and he laughed a bit
again.
“Well shit!” I said. “I can
only wonder how Grandma responded.”
“Huh?”
“My grandma—I’m curious how she
responded to me coming out,” I repeated.
“Why?”
“Oh, just ‘cause she’s a bit of a
nut. In a good way, though. Grandma, my dad’s mom, lives
with them.” I said with a chuckle, thinking about her. “Actually
she’s pretty cool, you’d like her a lot.”
“You think I’ll get to meet her this
week?”
“Oh hell, I forgot they were coming
here! I’ll bet they bring her. That old gal’s a hoot!
You think I tell it like it is? Hoss, she wrote the book.”
I kept my massage up, lightly rubbing
all around his head. Sometimes I’d run my hands down the sides of
his face, along his jaw line to his chin. The goatee felt funny
at first but believe me I had no problem getting used to it!
“So Logan, what kind of guy…well…are
you interested in?” Scott asked.
I leaned over a bit. He opened
his eyes and looked into mine. “I’ve got my hands on him right
now,” I replied. He seemed to blush a bit, but smiled and closed
his eyes again.
“Seriously, what kind of guy?”
“I am serious. You think I’d
just start rubbing just any guy’s head?”
“Heh, heh, heh. Ok, so then,
why me.”
“Oh God I don’t know.”
“Uh, thanks?” I knew he was
joking.
“No, lemme think.” I thought
about it for a moment. “Well, there’s no way you can get away from the
physical attraction.”
He smirked and said, “You like the
bod, huh?”
“Oh God, when I first saw you I
thought I’d have to walk the rest of the way bent over so I wouldn’t
break my pecker! I could’ve pointed the way to the elevators with
my schwanz.” He laughed out loud at this. “Seriously
though,” I continued, “don’t get me wrong. You don’t look like a
model in a magazine—“
“Gee, thanks.”
“—hush now! Well, you’re face
isn’t like a typical model; but you’re a really good looking guy.
You’ve got a great jaw line and I love facial hair.”
“I guess that means I’ll keep the
goatee,” he said.
Then I leaned over and playfully
rubbed his pecs, which felt great by the way. “And you have an
incredible body. Did I say that yet?”
He twisted around on the couch.
“Hey now,” he chuckled, doing the Howard Stern imitation.
I leaned back up and resumed rubbing
his head, then started working on the back of his neck. “I’m
serious, dude. You got one hot bod. You look great in
jeans. Would rather see you out of them, but you look great in
‘em.”
“Ahh, so it’s just physical
attraction, huh,” he said with mock hurt.
“Oh Scotty, no. Sometimes
peoples’ personalities just click. I know when it clicked.
For me at least.”
“Yeah? When?”
“When I first got here and we were
upstairs when everyone was in the hot tub? You and I looked at
each other then climbed in fully clothed. I know that we were
already wet from the rain, but it was like I’d known you forever, like
we were in sync.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve never felt more at ease being around
someone. Ever. You gotta great sense of humor, and you get
mine, which a lot of people don’t.” I had to laugh a bit at
this. “You’re not too wound up—you don’t take things too
seriously, but you can be serious. You exude this feeling of self
confidence.”
“Exude.” he said, looking up and
smiling.
I pinched his nose so he couldn’t
breathe. “Hey, I don’t always talk like a bumpkin,” I released
his nose. He just smiled and closed his eyes.
“Dude, don’t stop with the head.”
“Hey, when can I work on the other
one.” He laughed at that. “I had to ask.”
“Go on, you were singing my praises.”
I sighed. “Man, I’m having a
hard time here.” And I was. I was sporting wood like you
wouldn’t believe.
“What? Thinking of reasons why
you like me?”
“No. I’m having a hard time
because I really want to head south” I said and I put both of my hands
on his chest and started sliding them down toward his stomach. He
laughed and grabbed my forearms.
“Logan, cameras,” he said.
I sat back up and caught my
breath. “I’m dyin’ here Scott. Fuckin’ cameras.”
“Now you know why I’m glad I have a
blanket on,” he said, smiling.
“Hmmm.” I looked at where his
crotch would be. Dammit, it was hidden by the blanket. Frig!
“That’s how talented you are with
your hands,” he went on.
Oh God! “Ok, back to what makes
you my type of guy. There’s just something in me, in my gut, that
tells me it’s okay to be myself around you. I feel like I want to
be my best around you. And you know what?” I said, thinking.
“What?”
I chuckled a bit. “I feel safe
around you.”
He looked up at me. “Why’s that
funny?” He was more curious than anything.
“I guess I never thought this way
before but I get the feeling that you’ve got my back.”
“Hmm, that sounds good,” he said as
he reached up and pinched my nipple.
I slapped his hand away and said in a
nasally, mocking voice, “Cameras!” at which he laughed.
“Seriously, though,” I continued, “I
just feel…well…safe around you. I don’t really know how to
explain it. I’ve never felt that way before; it’s kinda
nice. I feel…I don’t know…protected. And you know something
else?”
“What?” he asked.
“It doesn’t matter that there are
cameras on us if you’re trying to keep things quiet, or private,” I
said.
“Why?”
“Because, if I talk to Deanna about
stuff, which I do, the cameras are getting it from my perspective.”
“Oh shit. Duh!” He
started to laugh pretty good at this. “I never thought about
that.”
“I know.” I smiled at
him. “How’s that?” I tapped him on the shoulders, signaling that
I was done rubbing his head.
“Is that all?” he asked me, eyes
raised.
“Yep. For now.”
“I’ll take that answer,” he smiled.
“And you have perfect teeth!”
“Do what?” he laughed a bit.
“You have beautiful teeth. I’m
tellin’ you, man, there ain’t nothin’ about you that I don’t like.”
“Awwww,” he said, being goofy.
“I fart a lot,” trying to be serious.
I died laughing at this and reached
out and pinched his nipple. “Yikes!” he said. We locked
eyes and looked at each other for a moment.
“God, I wanna do so much more,” he
said, rubbing up and down my arms with his hands.
“Tell me about it,” I said
hungrily. “But you know,” I leaned back a bit, “there are six
other people in the house, and I’ve never been all that comfortable
with p.d.a.’s.” He looked kinda hurt at this. “No, no,
don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind playing grab-ass or quick kisses or
whatever—cuddling’s cool, just no full-blown making out in front of
people. I never understood why people did that, straight or
gay. Who wants to see that shit?”
He laughed at this.
“Seriously! It’s rude.”
He laughed even harder. “Plus I don’t really wanna give the
camera guys a show. You’re right in that aspect, but I do have a
question for you.”
“Shoot,” he smiled.
“Why the frig do you care what the
cameras are catching?” I asked, puzzled. “Whose opinion do you
care that much about?”
He thought about this for a moment
and then said quietly, “You know? Fuck it.” He took my head
in his hands and pulled my face towards his. I thought I was
gonna die but then we heard the sound of keys in the door
and we stopped mid-approach.
I sat back and rolled my eyes
back. “Ugg!” I said as Deanna and the other girls walked
in. They spied us on the couch, me leaning up on one elbow and
Scott stretched out. Well, actually his feet were propped up on
the couch, knees in the air and the blanket was covering his
legs. I still couldn’t see anything. Fuck!
“Howdy boys!” she said.
We both grunted in return.
“Oopsie! Did we interrupt
something?” she said with a shit-eating grin on her face.
“Whatever,” Scott said.
“What he said,” I pointed to
him. “Obviously you had no problem shopping,” I pointed to the
multitude of bags in her hands. She smiled really big.
“Either of y’all want a drink?” she
asked as the other girls went into their room to drop off their
purchases.
“Nahh,” I said. “I’m about
ready to hit the hay.” I sat up and put my feet on the floor,
elbows on my knees. I was hoping to squeeze the blood out of my
dick so I could stand up again. It was taking a minute.
Finally I stood up and walked towards the guys’ room. “G’night to
y’all.”
Deanna said, nice and loud, “Doesn’t
he have a great ass?”
“Yep, ya gotta love that ass!” Scott
said.
“Ha! Crazy bitches,” I said and
they laughed. Time for a trip to the bathroom to relieve
myself.
* *
* *
Finally, the day had come for the
rest of the families to visit the studio. Well, mine and the
other three. I was really excited to see them. Especially
Grandma. I should give some background on her. She moved in
with us when I was twelve, right after my grandfather passed
away. All those geeky, gawky years that I spent at home (you
know—because my fucking friends wouldn’t hang out with me after school)
was actually better spent with her. Mom and Dad both worked, or
at least my mom started working part time when I turned thirteen, so
Grandma and I were kinda like Frick and Frack, or Heckle and
Jeckle. She actually used to be a singer when she was younger and
would sing in various night clubs in and around St. Louis during World
War II. She had three other kids besides my father; he was the
youngest and was 22 when I was born, so he’s still a young dad.
He was only 49 during the reunion show and Grandma was 79.
Anyway, I think that Grandma was
actually my saving grace, my guardian angel, in high school.
Definitely she was my third parent. She’d sit in her rocking
chair and crochet her afghans and I’d lay on her bed, together we’d
watch crap-t.v. like Oprah or Sally Jesse Raphe-A-hole. I got to
learn so much about what she was like growing up, her family,
everything in her life. It was truly a blessing from God that she
moved in with us. The fact that she, my father and I all shared
the same dopey sense of humor was a plus. When you got the three
of us together we were like a bunch of mag-pies, as Dad used to say.
The evening of the visit Mom, Dad and
Grandma were the last to arrive. The other three sets of parents
were gathered around in the kitchen and the living room yentering and
eating some more catered food. Yummy! Scott pretty much
hung out near me the whole time. He did seem sort of nervous,
though, or discombobulated. Now there’s a word for ya!
Finally, the Family Logan showed
up. “Mom, Dad!” I gave them a big hug. “Granny” I
said, mainly because she hates it.
“Granny my ass!” she said. “Now
where’s that boyfriend of yours, I hear he’s pretty hot.”
“Oh my God,” I mumbled, putting my
head in my hands and shaking it back and forth. Scott, who was
taking a drink just then…well, you know what happened. Deanna was
standing there and died laughing.
“Hi, I’m Deanna,” she said,
introducing herself to everyone.
“We’re Kim and Troy Logan.”
“And you can just call me Grandma,”
my grandmother said.
“The man you’re looking for is on the
floor wiping up his mess,” Deanna said.
Scott was on his knees, bending over
while cleaning up his drink. At this he looked up and
waved. “Hello” he said.
“Hmmm,” Grandma said to Deanna.
“He is pretty hot. Gotta great back porch, too!” she whispered
loudly.
“Grandma!” Mom, Dad and I exclaimed
at the same time.
Scott just turned back to look at
Grandma and smiled. When he was done cleaning his mess he stood
up and shook my parents’ hands. “Nice meeting y’all.
Logan’s told me so much about y’all.” He had a beautiful
smile. I don’t think I had to tell anyone I had flipped out over
this guy. I probably was looking at him like a bug-eyed school
girl.
“Well Mike,” Grandma said, “don’t
just stare at him like some silly-eyed school girl.”
See. I told you.
Deanna burst out laughing. “Grandma,” she said, “you and I are
gonna get along just fine.”
“Why?” Grandma said. “Do you
have an extra boyfriend you can share?” I just rolled my
eyes. You never knew if Grandma was actually being serious or not.
“Someone pour cold water on her,
please. Dad?” I said.
“Come on Mother, you’re embarrassing
Mikey.” Scott had to laugh at Dad calling me Mikey.
“Well, I’m glad that we’re all having
a great time at my expense,” I said, smiling.
“Hey, what’s your name again honey?”
Grandma asked.
“I’m Scott.”
“Scott, is your step dad here
again? ‘Cause I brought my gun with me,” and she reached into her
bag and pulled out her Beretta.
“Oh my God!” Deanna laughed.
Dad and I hollered “Grandma”/”Mom” at
the same time. I took her gun from her and put it into one of the
kitchen cabinets.
“What? I heard that he attacked
Scott and Mike?” she said to my dad.
“Actually, ma’am,” Scott said, “I’m
the one he hurt. Mike here beat the crud out of him.”
“Him?” She turned to look at
me. “Well hon, I guess you’re not a wuss anymore,” and she busted
out laughing. I did too and grabbed her in a big hug.
That’s my grandma!
“Oh man,” Deanna said, “you should
have seen him in action. He was all over him like white on rice—“
“Really kicked his ass, huh?”
Grandma said. Scott and Deanna both died laughing.
“Alright, alright, enough happy
talk. Yeesh!” I turned to Mom. “Wanna talk about
Christmas?” Everyone laughed, because this was my way of saying
‘let’s change the subject.’
“So Mike,” my dad said, “y’all been
to any place interesting lately?” I thought that this sounded
really odd, even coming from Dad. It was just really out of place.
“Um, I don’t think so, why?”
“Just conversation,” he said.
Yeah, right.
“Hey,” Scott jumped in, “we actually
got to hear Mike sing a couple of weeks or so ago.”
“Really?” Mom said. This all
sounded scripted to me.
“Well,” I said, “we went to this
place—“
“Rhett’s” Deanna interjected.
“Rhett’s, that had karaoke,” I
continued.
“Oh, I love karaoke,” Grandma
said. This time we all just looked at her. “My poker ladies
and I like to go.” I laughed at this.
“I’ve never heard of Rhett’s,” my dad
said.
“I don’t think you would’ve, Dad.”
“Oh. Ohhhh,” he said, it
dawning on him, “is that one of those gay bars?”
Scott and I laughed. “Yes,” I
said.
“Do guys wear chaps there?” Two
guesses who asked this.
“Stop, Grandma,” I laughed. She
just chuckled.
“Do y’all want to head over there?”
Scott asked.
Too quickly, everyone said “Yeah,
sure” blah blah blah. This was getting strange. My birthday
was a few months away so there was nothing going on with that.
“Ok,” I said, unsure. Scott just looked at me and smiled. I
turned to Deanna. “Something’s up, isn’t it.”
“Now why would you say that.”
“Bitch” I whispered. She
snorted at that.
“Anyone else want to go to Rhett’s
with us?” Scott asked the rest of the guests. They all declined
so we contacted the cameramen and headed out to the bar. It had
been raining most of the day and a cold front had blown through, so the
temperature had dropped down into the 70’s. Normally that would
have been great but it was also a little breezy and made it feel
cooler. I was glad I had jeans on. I was glad that Scott
did, too, for purely prurient reasons.
Scott, Deana, my parents, Grandma and
I got to Rhett’s and found a table. Scott was still acting
jittery.
“Dude,” I said to him, “what’s up
with you? You’re nervous as a cat.”
He snorted at me.
“Nervous? I’m not nervous.”
“Scott, your hands are
shaking.” He looked down.
“Just a little chilly, I guess.”
I didn’t believe him. But
whatever. Maybe he’d feel better if I’d fellated him, who
knows. Being a weekday the bar wasn’t as busy as the last time we
were here, though it was still crowded; Stan came over and took our
order himself. “How’s everyone tonight?” he asked. We all
greeted him back as Scott excused himself. Stan left to mix our
drinks and Scott returned.
“Where’d you go?” I asked.
“What are you, my mom?” he laughed
nervously. “I just had to do something.”
I looked at everyone. They were
just watching me. “What?” I asked them.
“Nothing, nothing,” came the
response. Our drinks came and we just talked for a little while
about the studio, the rest of the people living there, daily life,
etc. Scott tossed back his Jack and Coke and ordered another.
“Damn, son, ya thirsty?” I
said. He just smiled and shook his head a bit. I looked
over at Deanna, who was still smiling like a moron. “What is
goin’ on?” I demanded. More “nothing, nothing, what are you
talking about.”
As Scott’s second drink order came
the karaoke dj called out his name. “Did he just say Scott?” I
asked. Scott tossed back his drink and seemed to steel
himself. He stood up and, as he passed me, leaned over into my
ear and said, “Time for me to be brave.” Then he walked up to the
stage.
Finally it dawned on me. He was
going to sing a song. Oh man, I remember thinking, I didn’t know
he could sing. Deanna cleared it up for me. “He used to
sing in a barbershop quartet.”
“No shit,” I said. “I didn’t
even know he could sing. I guess he’s got lots of secrets,” I
said.
He was on stage saying something, but
the mike wasn’t working. They finally got it on and you could
tell he was nervous. “Howdy everyone,” he said. “Y’all know
Mike Logan, right?” and he pointed back to where I was sitting. I
shook my head and smiled as a bunch of guys started changing “Lo-gan,
Lo-gan, Lo-gan.” Mom and Dad laughed too.
“Well, he’s got his family here with
him tonight and I think you’ll remember that he came out to his folks a
while ago?” Everyone cheered. Ya gotta love gay guys.
“Well, Mike and I just met a couple of weeks ago and I’ve always told
him that he was a really brave guy. Now it’s my turn to be brave,
so I want to dedicate this song to Logan—“
“Just sing, baby!” someone in the
crowd hollered. We laughed at that.
“Ok.” He turned to the dj who
started the music, which I instantly recognized from “Showboat.”
He was nervous but it was sooooo cute!
“Oh listen sister, I love my mister
man,
And I can’t tell you why.
There is no reason, why I should love
that man.
It must be somethin’ that the angels
done planned.”
His eyes were shut tight.
“Fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly,
I gotta love one man ‘til I die.
Can’t help lovin’ that man of mine.”
Now they opened.
“Tell me he’s lazy, tell me he’s slow.
Tell me I’m crazy, maybe I know.
Can’t help lovin’ that man of mine.”
The song builds…
“When he goes away, that’s a rainy
day,
But when he comes back that day is
fine,
The sun will shine!”
Softer now.
“He can come home as late as can be.
Home without him, ain’t no home to me.
Can’t help lovin’ that man of mine.”
Oh my God! Dynamite couldn’t
remove the smile from my face! Everyone was clapping and
cheering. I was red as an apple. My parents and grandmother
were just laughing happily. I put my face in my hands and
laughed. I looked back up as he jumped off the stage and made his
way back to our table. I laughed nervously to chants of “Lo-gan,
Lo-gan, Lo-gan!”
Scott walked up to me and pulled me
off of my bar stool. He held me by the shoulders and, looking
into my eyes, said “It’s time for me to start being brave,
Logan.” Then he leaned in and kissed me. Oh, the fuckin’ romance of it all! It felt so
goddamned good to have his mouth on mine. I held onto his head
and didn’t want to let go. I couldn’t believe it! This
could not be a dream.
He gave me several strong, eager kisses, and I wanted more but figured
I might not just stop at kissing. Oh God I was in heaven.
He hugged me tight and I could feel his chest muscles against
mine. This was the man, I thought.
He released me and I sat back down on
the stool. “Whew!” I said.
“You’re telling me,” Grandma
said. “I haven’t been kissed like that in ages.”
“Oh Mom, stop it,” Dad laughed.
“Umm, well, it looks like I’m out of
the closet!” Scott said.
“Honey,” Deanna said, “you just
busted down that friggin’ door.” Everyone laughed at her comment.
I was sort of embarrassed to be
kissing like that in front of my folks. Let’s face it, gay or
straight, they’re still my parents for cryin’ out loud. Who makes
out in front of their own parents? Dad knew what I was thinking.
“Don’t fret it Mikey.”
Scott had his arm around my
shoulders. I looked at him and said, “Dude, I had no idea you
could sing like that! That was amazing.” This made him
blush.
“Oh, I used to sing from time to
time.”
“In a quartet, Deanna told us.
Any other secrets you’d like to share,” I said smiling at him.
He looked at Mom and Dad.
“Maybe later,” he said.
“Okay,” Dad laughed, “let’s talk
about Christmas!” We all got a kick out of that.
* *
* *
“Good night y’all, thanks for
coming!” All the other families had left and the other roommates
gone to bed. It was just Scott and I telling my folks goodbye.
“Scott,” my dad said, “it was great
to finally meet you.” He gave Scott a great big hug, as did my
Mom and Grandma.
“You’d better be good to my
grandson,” Grandma said. The she whispered “Or I’ll shoot
ya!” Then she and Scott laughed real loud.
“Goodnight Grandma! Love
you!” I said.
“Goodnight honey.” She gave me
a hug and walked over to my parents who were outside waiting in the
hallway. The she leaned back in the door and said, “Now go getcha
some!” I turned beet red and Scott died laughing. Grandma
blew me a kiss and shut the door behind her.
“Ugg, that’s my family,” I said.
“Man,” he said, putting his arms
around me, “they’re great!”
“You’re great,” I murmured. “I
have no idea what to say—“
“Then don’t” and he covered my mouth
with his. It felt so awesome. He was really eager and I
just wanted to climb inside of him. Our mouths opened up and I
got to taste his tongue for the first time. Christ I think I was
hard in a nanosecond. His arms felt so strong around me, pressing
our chests together. I ground my thickened cock against his as my
arms explored the muscles in his back, then down to his ass. I
kneaded and rubbed him as my breathing quickened.
He backed me up against the cabinets
and took his mouth off of mine long enough to start nibbling on my
neck. His hands were all over the place, one minute squeezing my
pecs, the next grabbing my ass cheeks. I felt his hand slide down
my heaving chest and belly and then finally my cock, which was
straining to get out of my jeans. He gripped it as I moaned “oh
shit.”
I was so hot for this guy. I
wanted him now, now, now goddammit now! I opened my eyes a bit
and saw…the fucking cameras!
“Wait, Scott, hold on.”
He groaned, still chewing on my neck.
“This time I’m serious,” I managed to
moan back. “The cameras.”
That stopped him, sure ‘nuff!
He sagged against my body, then stood back. “Christ almighty,
these fuckin’ cameras.”
I was still breathing heavy.
“Plus, what if someone comes out of the bedrooms.”
He chuckled. “They’d get an
eye-full.” He looked into my eyes. “I’m so damn crazy about
you,” he said.
I shut my eyes. “Yeah, but we
can’t go crazy here. We gotta wait to do that.” I smiled
provocatively. I leaned in to kiss him again, this time more
tenderly. “These jeans are too…confining,” I said. I
walked off, eyeing him. “I think I’ll get my jogging shorts
on.” He looked at me with raised eyebrows as I went into the
bedroom to change. When I came out I had on a pair of shorts and
a thin long-sleeved cotton t-shirt.
“Since it’s a little hot in here I
think I’ll head up to the balcony.” I kissed his neck and
squeezed his cock through his jeans. Whew. Talk about the
mother lode. “Maybe you’ll change and join me?” I walked
towards the stairs.
Scott bolted towards the bedroom and
said, “Shit yeah! I’ll be there in a minute!”
I smiled and headed upstairs. I
was really nervous inside because to tell you the truth I’d never even
made it past second base with a guy. I was completely clueless
how the mechanics worked, although thank God for Nifty because I at
least had some ideas. Thank God for gay porn too. I know,
it sounds like old-fashioned bullshit but I really wanted to wait for
that “special guy.” I’d gotten blowjobs before, but nothing more
than that. I had certainly never given one. I guess that
makes me kinda selfish. But dammit, I was tired of waiting!
Plus, I was also damned sure I had that special guy now. I think
I could stop being selfish and I wanted to give myself to him.
Every part, over and over.
I stood on the balcony overlooking
Ponce and Midtown Atlanta. In all actuality I was alone up
here. You’d have to be looking up to see our balcony and it was
late at night so there wasn’t a ton of traffic. A slight breeze
caressed the night and I shivered a bit. Then I felt Scott’s
warmth behind me. I felt comforted and safe, so I closed my eyes
to revel in the feeling.
“You chilly?” he asked. I
nodded. “Maybe I can warm you up.” He started by kissing my
neck…
* *
* * *
* * *
* *
“Can’t Help Lovin’ That Man”
From “Showboat”
Produced by Barbra Streisand and
Peter Matz on “The Broadway Album”
All right reserved CBS/Columbia
Records, copyright 1985. CK40092
* *
* * *
* * *
* *
Well? Whatcha thank? You
know, I think I’ll take a break for the night. I’m kinda
sleepy. LOL – can’t wait to get the e-mails for this one. I
think I’m leaving a few guys far farblondzhet.
Tell me what you think!
Mark
mlogan6969@hotmail.com