This story may occasionally include explicit depictions of sexual acts between consenting adult males.  If you are underage or it is illegal to view this for any reason, consider yourself warned.  If you find this material offensive, please leave.

 

This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to people, living or dead, is entire a coincidence. Everyone lives in my head. As the author, I retain all rights to this story, and it cannot be reproduced or published without explicit consent from me.  This work is copyright © 2017 by Steven Wells.

 

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Together Forever

Previous Chapter

"Everyone told me bad luck came in threes," Bobby said. "You skipped the third."

"I'm not finished yet," I continued. "The final kick in the ass lands a couple of scenes into the last act. I agree to meet Cory for dinner at a really nice restaurant. I managed to throw an outfit together which didn't make me look like a total dork. I won't go into details, but he handed me five hundred dollars after I agreed to go home with him. Five hundred dollars was more than I made in working twenty-four-hour weeks. I made five hundred dollars in two hours by letting some rich dude fuck me. Once a week, I let Cory Wainwright, III fuck me. I quit my other job and focused on school."

I paused. For a sip of coffee and a breath of fresh air. I never told anyone about this phase of my life.

"Was he good in bed?" Bobby asked with a smile.

"Fortunately, yes," I replied. "One night after we had a mind blowing three-hour sex fest, he asked me if I wanted other clients. He had a few rich, closeted friends who were eager to find a regular piece of ass. I took on three others—except I charged them one thousand dollars for two hours. Am I painting an understandable picture here?"

"You're making $3,500 for four hours work," Bobby replied. "Every week. How long did this go on?"

"Until my asshole boyfriend infected me," I replied. "My clients always wore protection. I even had a few clients who would come to the city on business. They called Cory, and I'd go to bed with them. The next phase of my downfall will take more time than I believe we can spend here. Can we see one another again? You're the only person I know who I feel comfortable explaining all of this. It's not easy telling someone I was a prostitute for six years."

"You did what you had to do, Connor. I might not have been so nonjudgmental before this thing with Theo happened. It makes a difference in how you view the world when you go from the top of your game to the bottom of your game in a few short weeks. Shit! I never realized how late it was. It's as though we just arrived. And, yes, I want to see you again, Connor," Bobby replied. "Next time at my apartment for dinner. I make a mean chicken fajita."

"I'd love to join you," I replied. I felt a bolt of electricity as our hands touched one last time before we left the coffee shop.

Chapter 02: The Fourth Act

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked Noel. We met for lunch at Stephi's on Tremont for lunch two days after I met Bobby for coffee.

"What do you want to do?" I Noel asked.

"About?" I asked.

"Bobby," Noel replied.

"I like Bobby a lot," I replied. "He's only out of a relationship with his boyfriend a short time. I've only recently pushed my ex out of my mind by fleeing to Boston. I don't believe we are in a state of mind to start a new relationship, but I don't want to abandon the chance to know him better."

"Tell him," Noel replied. "Bobby is a very smart person. He understands he's still finding his footing. He probably feels the same way you do. I'm not an expert on relationships. However, I know if I were in Bobby's situation, I'd be afraid of starting a new relationship so soon after breaking up. Also, I'd want some time to explore who I am."

"You're probably right," I agreed. "I also have Michael the front desk clerk nipping at my heels."

"Tell him to back off," Noel suggested. "You aren't connecting with him as much as you are with Bobby. My opinion."

"He might have a cheap one-bedroom apartment on the third floor of his building," I added.

"To use a euphemism, you get what you pay for Connor," Noel added. "Do you really want to be living in a situation where your landlord wants your ass?"

"No," I replied. "Although, I wouldn't need to travel to get laid."

"Are you still a confirmed bottom, Connor?" Noel asked with a smile.

"No," I replied. "During my call boy days, I developed a talent for versatile. Think of the possibilities."

"I do every night when I go to bed with John," Noel replied with a smile. "It's something we share."

"It surprises me you're not a confirmed top anymore," I added.

"John changed everything, Connor," Noel said.

"So, you two old married farts still have a good sex life?" I asked.

"No," Noel added. "To borrow a line from you, our sex life isn't good, it is earthshattering! Would Bobby's lack of drinking bother you?"

"Nope," I replied. "I rarely drink anyway. I never did. The only times I did was with my asshole boyfriend. I hated it. He'd get smashed and flirt with anyone who had a dick. He did his share of doing more than just flirting, too."

"I don't think Bobby would want anyone else but his partner if he were in a relationship," I replied. "He strikes me as more of a one-man man."

"You're probably right, as always," Connor agreed. "Why didn't I wind up like you? You're a successful Ad Exec. You're married to a sweet and handsome man. You have a great kid. You have three dogs, and a beautiful house. You're happier now than I have ever seen you, Noel. I hope I can have some day what you have now."

"I am happier now than ever before in my life," Noel continued. "John and I often joke about not meeting each other if it hadn't been for contracting HIV at the same time. But, we came to our senses. It's not a joke. It was pure luck."

"The love Gods were smiling down upon you," I replied. "What ever happened to the Wilson kid I had a crush on in high school?"

"Haven't seen him," Noel replied.

"I haven't seen him since high school graduation," I added. "His Dad didn't like him hanging around with me. A Puerto Rican kid wasn't good enough for his blue blood son... I tried connecting with him after graduation. His number changed. An e-mail I sent came back. I received a post card from him while he toured Europe the summer after graduation. Nothing since."

"You still have feelings for him, don't you, Connor?" Noel asked.

"Nope," I lied. "The past is the past."

"I'll beat the truth out of you at some point, cuz," Noel responded.

"I need to head back to the Center," I explained. "We're planning our promotion material for the new season."

"You should ask me if I ever do any pro bono work," Noel said.

"Do you ever do any pro bono work, Noel?" I asked.

"Yes," Noel replied. "Let me know when you and your planning group will have time to meet with me. I am supposed to give way about one hundred hours a quarter to organizations in the city. I don't have anyone selected to be the beneficiary of our good will at this point. One hundred hours from Haney Dawson is worth about fifty thousand dollars. I also have connections at several local television and radio stations as well as the Boston Globe Foundation."

"You're shitting me?" I asked.

"Nope," Noel replied. "Do I see groveling in your future?"

"I'll schedule a groveling session sometime this week if you'd like," I replied.

"Text me your availability, and I'll meet with you and your group," Noel said with a smile. "I so like fucking with your head, cuz! Just like old times... except the players are on the other side of the fence."

~~~~~

My creative staff, made up mostly of volunteers and college student interns, assembled in the conference room to discuss our promotional material for the new season.

Clyde Ginsberg, a local playwright, Georgina Carol, a junior at Boston University, Arron Ida, sometimes actor in some company productions, Tina DiMaggio, paid administrative assistant and the glue which holds the center together, and Leo Braise, a senior at Emerson.

"I'm looking forward to a successful new season," I began. "Our attendance the past few years has slipped to the lowest level in the Center's history. The people who hired me expect me to reverse this trend. So, we need to work extremely hard on our promotion campaign. Any suggestions?"

"We've always used a somewhat crude method of reaching our patrons because we don't have a lot of money for advertising," Leo began. "We can barely afford to print the simple flyers and announcements. We've never succeeded in creatively promoting our offerings."

"We need to ramp up our efforts," I explained. "We can no longer rely on just flyers and mailing pieces. We need to reach out further to the community."

"Where do we get the money?" Clyde asked.

"I had lunch today with my cousin Noel," I began. "He gave me inspiration. He also suggested his firm could offer us as much as one hundred hours of pro bono work from his advertising agency. He also has connections to media people in the city."

"Which agency?" Tina asked.

"Haney Dawson," I replied and waited for their response.

"You've got to be shitting us," Georgina said. "Haney Dawson is the most prestigious agency in the city. Just how much would this possible pro bono work be worth?"

"He mentioned fifty thousand dollars," I added. "It's not a done deal, but it gives me hope. He wants to meet with us next week to discuss our plans. So, your job in the next few days is to develop a plan which would put our season on the map. I might find some other corporate sponsors to assist with the costs of promoting the Center's programming. Has the Center had corporate sponsors?"

"Not since I became involved in the Center," Clyde replied. "I've been working with the Center for ten years now. I don't remember having corporate sponsors."

"I don't know exactly how yet," I began. "But, if we are successful, we need corporate sponsorship. My cousin and his husband seem to be well-connected in the business world. Why haven't the business people on the board suggested corporate sponsorships?"

"You'll need to ask them," Tina replied. "And, frankly, I'd like to hear their answer."

After our planning meeting, I returned to my cramped office filled with the previous director's notes, rejected scripts, and a host of other worthless papers. I sat at my overflowing desk, and I picked up the phone.

"Otto Erlanger, please," I said into the phone to the executive office assistant.

"Whom may I ask is calling, please?" the very polite male voice asked.

"Connor Rodriguez," I replied. "I'm the new director of the Boston Center for the Arts. I'm also a guest at the Fairmont courtesy of Mr. Erlanger."

"One moment please," the assistant said as I heard a click which put me on hold listening to sedate music.

"Connor," Otto exclaimed as he answered the phone. "What a pleasant surprise! What may I help you with today, Connor?"

"I am planning on speaking to a number of prominent area businesses who might be willing to be corporate sponsors," I explained. "And, since you are on the board of the Center, I thought it only appropriate to start with you. Do you have a moment to speak with me sometime this week? I would need thirty minutes at most."

"I can certainly give you thirty minutes, Connor," Otto said. "I will be in my office rather late tonight. Would you like to stop in when you return to the hotel tonight? I might convince you to have dinner with me. We'd have plenty of time to talk."

"I'd appreciate your time, Sir," I replied. "I should return to the hotel tonight around seven."

"Perfect," Otto exclaimed. "Meet me in the restaurant. I'll make reservations. If I'm a few minutes late, have a drink at the bar. On me, of course."

"I'll see you at seven," I said as we ended the conversation.

`I wonder if I've just sold my soul,' I thought to myself.

I pushed away some of the useless material covering my desk. Instead of stopping at the edge of my desk, I put the trash can under the pile and gave it another nudge. I felt gratified to see the stuff where it should have been prior to my arrival.

I worked on ideas for corporate sponsorship until it approached time to meet my dear friend Otto.

He wasn't at the bar yet, so I sat at an empty seat.

"You must be Connor," the bartender said. "Mr. Erlanger said you would be joining him for dinner tonight. What may I get you to drink?"

"Vodka on the rocks," I said. "Light on the rocks."

I knew I needed some liquid courage to get through dinner with Otto.

"I'm Fletcher, by the way," the bartender said as he slid the vodka on the rocks in front of me. "How do you know Mr. Erlanger?"

"I'm the new director of the Boston Center for the Arts," I explained. "I'm also a guest at the Fairmont courtesy of Mr. Erlanger."

"I'm trying to break into the acting field," Fletcher replied. "It's tough just getting to speak with someone. Any suggestions?"

Fletcher stood about five-ten. His brown hair cut close to his head. His green eyes shimmered in the shadowy light of the bar.

"Give me a call," I said as I fished out my temporary business card and handed it to Fletcher. "We can arrange for you to visit the Center. I can take you on a tour. We can talk about your acting. And I know exactly what you're going through. I did the same as you. Worked as a bartender, waiter, and janitor. You name it, I did it. Finally, I caught a break. I want to pass it forward if I can."

"Thank you, Mr. Rodriguez," Fletcher said as he looked at my card before he slipped it into his shirt pocket. "I'll call you tomorrow. I'm off all day."

"Why don't you just drop by the Center around 2 pm?" I asked. "We'll bypass a step if you do."

"I'll definitely accept your offer, Mr. Rodriguez," Fletcher replied. "I'll see you at 2 pm tomorrow."

I smelled his cologne before I heard his voice.

"Connor," Otto said as he slid into the empty seat next to mine. "Is Fletcher taking good care of you in my absence?"

"Excellent care, Sir," I replied.

"Good," Otto said. "Join me in another drink before dinner, Connor?"

"Of course," I replied.

Fletcher turned to retrieve our drinks. Otto must have a `regular' drink because Otto never ordered and Fletcher never asked.

"I'm interested in finding out about your sponsorship program, Connor," Otto began. "First, I'd like for us to get to know each other better."

"Sure," I replied. "It's good to know the person with whom you are doing business."

"My sentiments exactly," Otto said. "Tell me about your family."

"My family is complicated," I replied. "My father was a building inspector for the City of Somerville. My mother was a stay at home mom. I have a younger brother and an older sister. Both are married with two kids. My father died when I was a freshman in college in a car accident. I don't speak with any of my family members. When I announced I was gay—actually, when I was outed by an asshole supposed-to-be friend—my entire overly religious family gave me the boot. My only link to my family is my cousin Noel. So goes the tale of my former family."

"You must have been hurt by your family's decision to exclude you," Otto said.

"Yes," I replied. "Until I decided I didn't give a shit anymore."

"How did you get involved with your side business?" Otto asked.

"It's too complicated to explain," I replied. "But my financial support ended when they discovered I'm gay. My world began collapsing around me. An opportunity to stay financially solvent magically appeared. I had no choice."

"Did it bother you?" Otto asked.

"Did it bother me?" I continued. "No. It didn't bother me. I eventually accepted prostitution as a way of life—my life at least. Most of the time I enjoyed it. I had regulars. They were all good looking and fun."

"Good in bed, too," Otto said with a smile.

"Yup," I replied. "What about you?"

"My life has been very uneventful," Otto replied. "I went to Harvard. I married after college. We had two kids. I was happy, until I wasn't happy. I finally realized I couldn't go on living a lie. My wife supported my decision to come out. We divorced. We're still great friends."

"Someone special in your life?" I asked.

"I had someone special in my life," Otto continued. "I loved him like no other person in the world. Then, a drunken overly coddled college student ran over him while he rode his bike home from work. David, my husband, taught at MIT. Three years after we married, he left me. I still haven't forgiven the driver of the car. I probably never will. But, life must go on."

"I can't imagine the loss," I replied.

"It's best you don't try," Otto added. "Now, let's sit for dinner."

I followed Otto and the host. The host led us to our corner table. I slid into one side of the semicircular banquet, and Otto took his place on the other side.

"Tell me about the corporate sponsorship effort," Otto suggested. "I tried pushing the idea several years ago as a board member. The board decided they didn't want to stoop so low. They wanted to remain autonomous, creative."

"If we don't push this, there won't be a Center much longer," I replied. "I've given this consideration since the board appointed me director. Today, I had lunch with my cousin, Noel. Noel's an account executive at Haney Dawson. He met Leo in a meeting to discuss the company's advertising account."

"Your cousin must be extremely talented to work at Haney Dawson," Otto replied.

"He's also tentatively offered to give us one hundred hours creative time," I added. "This is a major boost to my spirits about finding corporate sponsors. Which leads me to the Fairmont Copley Plaza Hotel."

"I can't offer you a monetary sponsorship," Otto began. "However, I could offer to sponsor a benefit here in the hotel. We could accommodate about five hundred guests with cocktails, appetizers, dinner, and dessert."

"You're kidding me?" I exclaimed.

"No," Otto said with a smile. "I'm not kidding you. It's the least I can do. When I saw you at the front desk when you checked in the first time you were here, I almost had a heart attack. But, when I learned you left your side business in New York, I relaxed. I need to tell you something, Connor. I became very fond of you during our all too few times together... and not just in bed. I want to support your work with the Center as a friend and not as a former trick."

"How's the job working out?" Bobby asked as we again sat at Starbucks sipping coffee.

"I went into this job believing I would be fighting to find enough money to keep the doors open," I began. "And I am fighting to keep the doors open. We need to attract corporate sponsors to keep the Center open. I have two on board already. Noel's ad agency will provide pro bono services to create some smashing promotion pieces. And Otto Erlander, the GM of the Fairmont, agreed to host a benefit for the Center."

"Have you found a place to live?" Bobby asked.

"Yes," I replied. "The front desk manager at the Fairmont had a one bedroom available in the building he owns. I'm moving this weekend. It will be nice to be in a place of my own instead of in a hotel. As much as I enjoyed living at the Fairmont, I'm ready to move on."

"Is he cute?" Bobby asked.

"Who?" I returned his question with another.

"Michael, the front desk manager," Bobby said with a smile.

"He's nice looking," I replied. "I've stopped thinking of cute and sexy and hot. I'm more in a `can I have a conversation with someone'. I can have a conversation with you. I can have a conversation with Michael. I can have a conversation with Otto."

"Is Otto dating material?" Bobby asked.

I threw a napkin at him.

"You offered to accompany me to functions occasionally," I began. "Does the offer still stand?"

"Sure," Bobby said as he showed more of his pearly white teeth. "When and where?"

"We're having a meet and greet on Thursday of next week," I explained. "It's a group of gay men and women who have pledged to support the Center in the coming season. It's a cocktail reception followed by a buffet dinner. The evening's entertainment will feature Clyde and Company."

"Clyde and Company?" Bobby asked.

"Big name talent, huh?" I joked. "Clyde, Marla, and Joseph play some awesome jazz. I will bore the attendees with a ten-minute talk before the music."

~~~~~

Bobby and I attended the corporate sponsorship dinner after our conversation at Starbucks.

"This is nice, Connor," Bobby said. "It's casual. It screams money!"

"What do you mean it screams money?" I asked fearing the worst.

"The people," Bobby replied. "You certainly have a terrific guest list for this event. I didn't know there were this many people under forty who had both money and an interest in the arts."

"We organized this event to attract younger people who might be interested in becoming season ticket holders," I explained. "Our current mix of season ticket holders aged dramatically in the last five years. We didn't attract any young people to the Center. I hope to change the trend."

"You're heading in the right direction," Bobby said.

"I want you to introduce you to some people you've heard me talk about," I said as I put my hand on the small of Bobby's back as we walked across the floor.

"Good to see you tonight!" I exclaimed as we stopped beside Michael and Otto. "Michael, Otto, this is a friend of mine, Bobby Johnson. Bobby this is Michael Harrington and Otto Erlander from the Fairmont."

As they shook hands, I noticed both Michael and Otto admire Bobby's physique.

"It's very nice to meet you," Bobby replied. "Connor told me about the stellar service you provide at the Fairmont."

"We try our best to make our guests happy," Otto replied. "Connor made our life easy while he was staying with us."

"I tried not to be a difficult guest," I replied with a smile.

"You and your team have done a beautiful job of organizing this gathering," Michael added. "It's a stroke of genius to have it in the Center's lobby. You showcase this beautiful Art Deco lobby wonderfully. Most people who haven't attended performances here will be duly impressed."

"Thank you, Michael," I said. "I appreciate your comment. I also wanted to have it here to give some impact to one of my announcements tonight."

"We'll eagerly await to hear your pitch, Connor," Otto replied with a smile. "Have you two know each other long?"

"No," I replied. "We met at a welcome party my cousin had in my honor the first weekend after I arrived."

"We share a love of theater and the arts," Bobby added.

"Are you working in the arts?" Michael asked.

"No," Bobby replied. "I work for a website development firm. I write proposals for the sales staff."

"In a way, you're working in the arts," Otto added.

"I never thought of it as working in the arts," Bobby said.

"You learn new skills every day," I added. "I hope you don't mind, but Bobby and I need to say hello to a few others before we begin dinner."

"By all means," Otto replied.

"They were nice," Bobby whispered to me as we moved onto another group. "They both seem very likeable... and handsome."

"They are likeable and handsome," I replied. "I'm fortunate to have connected with them. I believe I see some people you might know, Bobby."

"Great event, Connor," Noel exclaimed when we were near them.

"Thanks," I replied. "I had a lot of help."

"Connor, I'd like you to meet some very fine people," John began. "This is Chris Hayes-Moran who is my boss and owner of eSquare. This is his husband Gavin Hayes-Moran who is Noel's boss. I believe you two met. And this, guys, is Connor Rodriguez."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Connor," Chris began. "We needed someone who could shake things up at the Center."

"I'm attempting make some definite changes here," Connor replied.

"We have some news for you, Connor," Noel began. "You'll need to get the specifics from Chris and Gavin, but it looks like you have two more corporate sponsors."

"You haven't told him yet, have you Bobby?" Chris asked.

"Nope," Bobby replied. "I told you my lips are sealed."

"Told me what?" I asked.

"John and Noel have convinced me to offer fifty-thousand dollars to sponsor part of the Centers work," Chris explained as he handed a check to me.

I paused to look at the check. It's real.

"The check is real," I said slowly.

"Yes, the check is real," Chris replied.

"Thank you, Chris," I said. "I'm still thinking this might be a dream. I don't know what to say?"

"I have something for you as well," Gavin began as he also handed me a check. "This one-hundred-thousand-dollar check from Haney Dawson is in addition to Noel's offer to help with the promotion of the season. Good luck!"

"Thank you, guys," I added. "I'll never forget this."

"You're welcome," Gavin replied. "You might want to speak with the man in the corner with the two blonds. Taylor Gordon is with GW Venture Capital. He's a big donor to the arts. Would you like me to introduce you?"

"Ahm...," I stammer. "Yes, please."

Bobby and I followed Gavin to the opposite side of the room.

"Taylor!" Gavin exclaimed as he pulled the black suited man in for a hug. "I'd like you to meet our host tonight, this in Connor Rodriguez, the new director for the Center. Connor, this is Taylor Gordon with GW Venture Capital. Taylor, this is our host this evening, Connor Rodriquez, who is the new Director of the Center."

"It is a pleasure to meet you Connor," Taylor explained. "Gavin and I were in a meeting together this morning and he urged me to attend. I understand you're looking for corporate donors."

"Yes, Sir," I replied. "We don't want to disrupt—or worse yet close the Center altogether. So we're looking at other ways to support our work here instead of only relying on season ticket sales or private donations. This, by the way, this is a friend of mine, Bobby Johnson."

"How much are you hoping to raise with the corporate sponsors?" Taylor asked.

"Any sized donation is welcome, Sir," I explained. "We are hoping to raise one million."

"I'm certain we can help with at least some of the million," Taylor said as he pulled out a business card and handed it to me. "Call my assistant to set up an appointment next week. In the meantime, I'll speak with the people who handle sponsorships. I should have a proposal for you when you visit. We need more organizations like yours rather than fewer."

"Thank you, Sir," I replied.

"It's Taylor, but everyone calls me TJ—except my mother and father."

"I look forward to meeting you next week, TJ," I said as I shook his hand and handed him a business card of my own. "Your support means a great deal to me and the others at the Center. Thank you."

"I'll see you next week, Connor," TJ said as I made my exit.

~~~~~

I finally had my desk cleaned out and organized. Four garbage bags in the corner remained as the only clue of the clutter which once covered my desk top. I finally had room for my laptop.

Tina knocked on my door, "Someone is here to see you, Connor."

Tina stepped away from the door, and my visitor took her place.

"Hello, Connor," my guest said as I sat at my desk with my mouth agape unable to speak.

Cory Wainwright, III, stood smiling at me.

"Aren't you going to ask me to sit down?" Cory said with his smile still plastered on his face.

"Yes," I stammered. "Yes, of course. Please, Cory. Please have a seat. What brings you to Boston?"

"I have some family business to take care of here in the city," Cory replied. "I will be here for a number of months—maybe years."

"Oh!" I whisper.

"I just bought a condo not far from here," Cory added. "I thought it would be a good neighborhood to set up home base."

"Oh!" I said again.

"Aren't you happy to see me, Connor?" Cory asked.

"Ahm...!" I stammered again. "Yes. Yes, of course I'm happy to see you, Cory. I just... I just... I just wasn't expecting to see you standing in the open doorway of my office here at the Center... Where I work..."

"I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable by stopping by at your place of work," Cory finally said. "Would you rather meet me somewhere for a drink after you finish here today?"

"Ahm...!" I stammer yet again. "No. No, of course not, Cory. I'm happy you stopped in to see me. How have you been?"

"Lonely," Cory replied. "I've been lonely without you, Connor. I know we only saw one another once a week, but I became rather attached to you. I liked thinking of you as my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" I asked. "I was... I was... I wasn't your boyfriend, Cory. You... you... you paid me to be with you."

"What good is money if you can't spend it to make you happy?" Cory asked. "Do you have anything scheduled for this evening?"

"Ahm... Ahm... Yes," I replied. "I do have something scheduled for tonight. I'm having dinner with the GM of the Fairmont in Copley Square. We're talking about a fundraising event he's hosting at his hotel."

"Why don't you call me when you're finished, Connor?" Cory continued as he put a card on my desk. "I'm staying at the Fairmont until the condo is ready next week. We could talk after your meeting."

He stressed the word talk.

"Ahm... Ahm... Yes...," I said. "Of course. I'll call you when I'm finished with my meeting. I'll look forward to talking with you."

I stressed the word talk.

"I'll look forward to spending some time with you this evening," Cory said as he stood to leave.

"Yes," I replied. "It will be... interesting."

"Until tonight, Connor," Cory said as he made his way to the door. He stopped when he had reached the door. He turned to face me again. "Please give Otto my best. I haven't seen him since you left."

"Yes," I replied. "Of course."

I breathed a sigh of relief when he vanished from sight! `Shit!' I said to myself.

~~~~~

My hands were shaking. My palms were sweaty. My stride unsteady. `Just do it!' I said to myself. I knocked on the door of suite 1156.

"I'm glad you could join me tonight after your meeting, Connor," Cory said after he opened the door. "I hope your meeting was productive."

"Yes," I replied. "Yes, it was productive. We accomplished a lot."

"Would you like something to drink?" Cory asked. "I have a bottle of bubbly. I also have a very nice Cabernet I could open."

"Do you have vodka?" I asked.

"Of course," Cory replied.

"Vodka on the rocks, then," I said. I thought I might need the extra push.

Cory motioned for me to sit in one of the overstuffed chairs in the sitting area while he made drinks. `God, he looks good!' I thought to myself. `Wait! You fool! He wants more than to talk to me.'

Cory joined me in the chair beside me. "It's good to see you, Connor," he said while he handed my drink to me. "How did your meeting with Otto go?"

"Very well, thank you," I replied. "He's a terrific event manager. He plans every detail including contingency plans in case something backfires."

"He's a GM," Cory added. "He's responsible for everything happening in his hotel."

"So, what sort of family business brought you to Boston?" I asked.

"Our family owns a large stake in a venture capital firm here in Boston," Cory explained. "The family sent me here to keep an eye on our investment. I volunteered to take on the supervision of the investment company because I thought it might allow me to spend some quality time with you."

"I've given up my side business, Cory," I added. "You knew I wasn't involved anymore."

"Yes," Cory replied. "I'm not here to use your services. I'm here only as a friend. I enjoy your company."

"I enjoy yours as well, Cory," I said. "But, I need for you to understand I left New York to get away from some very painful memories of my last relationship. I'm not jumping into the fire of building a new relationship until I'm able to contribute to the relationship."

"I'm not forcing you into a relationship, Connor," Cory said. "I know you had a bad experience with your ex-boyfriend. I'm not trying to push my way into your life, Connor. I'm hoping to be your friend. If something were to happen after several months, I'll look at it as a side benefit of being your friend. On the other hand, I won't be crushed if it doesn't develop into something bigger. I like you as a person, Connor. I always have since the day I met you. You're not some high-priced whore to me, Connor. You're a very good and interesting man... And you're sexy as hell."

"Thank you, Cory," I replied. "I'll be very blunt here, Cory. What do you want from me? Sex? Relationship? Friendship? Some toy at your side to help your image?"

"I would be happy with friendship and sex," Cory replied. "I'd be happier with a relationship. But, I know you're not relationship oriented at the moment. So, to be blunt, how about friendship with sex as an added benefit?"

"I need to think about this, Cory," I said as I stood to leave.

"Connor, please don't leave just yet," Cory said as he moved in front of me. "I'd be very disappointed if I didn't at least get a kiss."

"I don't think a kiss right now is a good idea, Cory," I said.

"It'll be just a kiss, Connor," Cory said in a soothing voice.

"Yea," I replied. "Just a kiss. But you know what just one kiss leads to with us."

"Would it be a bad thing if the kiss led to something else tonight, Connor?" Cory asked.

"No, but I have things..."

Cory touched my arms. I started melting into him. `Just one kiss,' I said to myself.

To be continued...

 

I am starting a new e-mail list for Together Forever. If you would like to be on the announcement list for this story, please send an e-mail by clicking here.

I would enjoy hearing your comments about this story. You can write to me at MaWriterBoy@yahoo.com.

 

Please also see:

 

John's Journey Forward found in the Beginnings section

 

Sam and Chris in the College section.

 

We're in This Together found in the Relationships section.

 

Jeffery Comes Home  in the Beginnings section.

 

Taking a Stand in the College section. Coming Soon!

 

Life With Tim in the Authoritarian section (Please note, this story is not for everyone because there are several scenes depicting Master/slave and BDSM relationships. So, if you are not interested in this activity, please, please do not read this story.)

 

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