B & G
The following fictional narrative involves sexually-explicit erotic events between men. If you shouldn't be reading this, please move on.
In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms. In the real world, you should care enough about yourself and others to always practice safe sex.
The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.
Thanks and love to Tom for always patiently and carefully doing the editing chores, and to the rest of my Nifty Six colleagues.
I felt like such a dork after that lesson with Prof. Collins. I mean I must have come across as such a needy wuss. I couldn't help wondering what he was going to think of me. And, of course, it was soooo embarrassing to have a constant boner in his studio. He was understanding, though, when I told him he was very sexy. He could have thrown me out right then. Or worse, he could have laughed at me. And it was sensitive of him to offer to see if Prof. Burton would take me on. Collins suggested that because he didn't want me to be uncomfortable with him, and that's pretty cool.
I refused, though. First of all, I liked him as my horn professor. He was easy to work with. He made lots of good suggestions, but he was always encouraging. He said he thought I had promise, and I think he meant it. Second, even though I was a student and he was a professor, even though he said he had a partner, I just wanted to be with him when I could. He was so beautiful.
Yeah, I said beautiful. He was tall, a little on the thin side, and very elegant. It was hard enough, no pun intended, to have a stiffie all the time in the studio with him, and it was worse seeing that he had one, too. But he had the kindest eyes. I thought maybe if I just hung in there, some miracle might happen.
The weekend in Medina had gone well, except for Chip. I don't know what his problems were. He'd never acted as if my being gay bothered him, but he surely was standoffish with Brent. I felt sorry for Brent, too. He wanted so much to be accepted by the whole family. Mom, Dad, Karen, and the twins all loved him. Oh, well, I decided, Chip will eventually come around. To know Brent is to love him.
Something weird happened the Monday after we got back from my folks'. I was asked to go to Gravely Hall, the sociology building, to look into a row of offices that didn't have any power. I had just been working there the week before the Medina trip. It turned out it was the same group of offices. I soon found that a circuit breaker had tripped, probably sometime during the weekend. When I reset it, it tripped again.
The thing to do was to recheck the work I'd done the previous week. I found a place where I had joined two wires. The wire nut that should have held them together simply wasn't there, and they had come disconnected. It looked as if I had done a careless job. But I don't do careless jobs. With electricity you can't afford to. I'm always punctilious about such things.
I reconnected them to stay this time, securing them with the proper size wire nut, and left, wondering how I could have been so careless. No one is perfect, but I'm something of a perfectionist where my work is concerned, and it worried me that I hadn't done the job properly.
I became really worried when a week later the same sort of thing happened. I'd done a job late one afternoon, and the next morning there was a problem. Again, when I checked it out, it looked as if I had done a slipshod job that hadn't held.
That evening at supper at Brent's, as we were eating a pretty decent beef stew he'd made almost from scratch (he'd bought a sirloin steak and cut it up, along with a bag of frozen stew vegetables and a gravy mix), he said, "You seem preoccupied, hon. What's the matter?"
I explained about the two botched jobs at work.
"That doesn't sound like you. Do you have something on your mind, something that's worrying you?"
"No. At least nothing except those two jobs I seem to have fucked up."
"Well, we all make mistakes sometimes."
"Yeah, and when an electrician makes mistakes, the results can be catastrophic. Neither of these things would have burned the building down, but it scares the shit out of me to think I'm doing such sloppy work and don't know I'm doing it."
"I think you are worrying too much. Relax. You know you're the best. And I know how conscientious you are about everything. Those two things were most likely just flukes."
I said he was probably right, but I continued to worry.
The "miracle" happened, but it didn't involve Brent Collins.
I was sitting in the snack room in Kling about 2:00 one afternoon. I'd gotten a Coke out of one machine and a package of cheese crackers out of another. The room was furnished with tables that seated four. There were several people in the room, but there were lots of empty tables. I nodded to three female students I knew casually, and sat off to myself. I thought I might review my class notes from sociology in the time I had before my next class.
When someone cleared his throat, I looked up to see this fantastic-looking guy smiling down at me. I knew who he was. He was Kurt Schlegel. Even though he was only a sophomore, everybody said he was the best piano student in the Con. He was two or three inches taller than me, so that put him at about 5'9" or 5'10". He had long, curly, brown hair and green eyes. To complete the picture, I should tell you that he was on the thin side, like I am, and that he had long fingers, big feet, and a package to match. I'd mentally drooled over him from the first time I'd seen him.
"Hi. Is it okay if I sit here?"
There were lots of empty tables, so I wondered why he wanted to sit with me, but I gave him my brightest smile and said, "Sure. Grab a chair."
He set down a styrofoam cup of coffee and a package of (gag!) Twinkies. After he settled into his chair, he stuck his hand across the table. "I'm Kurt Schlegel."
As I took his hand, I said, "Yeah, I know."
"How do you know me?"
I grinned. "Man, I think everybody knows you. You're the wonder boy of the Piano Department from what I hear."
He looked embarrassed. "Well, don't believe everything you hear. Now, I've seen you around, but I don't know your name."
"Oh, sorry! I'm Dane Pierce. I just transferred here from Baldwin-Wallace this semester. I'm a horn major."
He gave me a warm smile and said, "Welcome, Dane."
Suddenly he seemed embarrassed again. He concentrated on getting the plastic wrap off his Twinkies. His long, graceful fingers were sexy as they removed the packaging from the gross lumps inside.
"Yeah?" He looked at me with those gorgeous green eyes and I could feel my cock swelling. Damn thing! I was glad it was under the table where no one could see it.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but I was wondering why you decided to come over and sit with me."
"You really want to know?
I nodded, looking again at his eyes.
"I could just say I thought you were new and wanted to welcome you to the Con."
"Yeah? But . . . ?"
He grinned. "But I saw you at the last GSA meeting. I decided you were one hot little stud, and that I wanted to get to know you. And that's the truth." He said the last in a pretty good Lily Tomlin imitation, which caused me to laugh.
This was getting better and better, and I didn't want to fuck it up. "So, Kurt, can I ask whether you're G or S?"
He chuckled. "I'm G, and I'm hoping you are, too."
`Thank you, God!'
I gave him another big smile. "Yeppers. One hundred percent queer."
I nearly melted when I saw the smile which crossed his face after that announcement.
"Like I said, I was hoping that was the case."
"But you don't know me."
"I know you're cute. I know we are both musicians. I know you're gay. Why don't we see if we have anything else in common?"
I looked at my watch. "Kurt, I've got my English class coming up in ten minutes. But if you're free, I'll cut it."
"I should be holed up in a practice room, but I don't actually have to be anywhere for the rest of the afternoon."
"Is there someplace we could go to talk?"
He thought about that. "You'd think there'd be someplace more private than this. I live in a dorm, and I have a roommate who seems to be there all the time. Don't know when TJ ever goes to class. What about you? Could we go to your room?"
"No, man, I don't live on campus. I'm local. It's about a half-hour drive from here."
We thought about going to the Union to see if one of the parlors was empty, but it was so nasty outside we finally decided to stay there in the snack room.
We must have talked for two hours. We told each other about our families, our high schools, our favorite rock groups and classical composers. We compared notes on the Con faculty we'd had so far. His piano professor was Nadia Stern, and he said she was both wonderful and a little scary at times. He wanted to know about Brent Collins. I told him Brent was the best horn instructor I'd ever had.
"I think he's gay," Kurt said. I said I didn't know, which was a lie, but I figured it was none of Kurt's business.
When it was pushing 5:00, I said I needed to get home, that my family ate supper earlier than most, and they were expecting me.
"Dane, I assume you're going to the recital tomorrow night."
Every Wednesday night at the Conservatory there was a student recital. Usually eight or ten people were on the program, each performing one selection. When there were faculty recitals or senior recitals, these "gang" recitals weren't held. The one on the next night was a senior recital by an organist, Melinda Spafford, and Kurt was eager to hear her. Con students were required to attend a certain number of recitals each term, so I told Kurt I'd be there.
As he stood up, he put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Meet me in the lobby. Maybe we can go somewhere after for coffee." It sucks that in Ohio the legal drinking age is 21. We're old enough to live on our own and go to college, even to serve in the military, but we aren't considered responsible enough to drink. Kurt and I should have been able to go for a beer after the recital, but that wasn't legal.
What I really wanted to go for after the recital was his bod. I'd developed a major case of the hots for this guy during the couple of hours we'd spent together.
He still had his hand on my shoulder. He squeezed it, looked me straight in the eye, and said, "So, Dane, are we going to go somewhere afterward?"
I don't know what got into me, but I grinned, licked my lips, and said "Anywhere you want, big boy."
He chuckled. "It's a date. See ya!"
A date! I had a date with the cutest guy in the Conservatory!
It was snowing when I got outside, and I had to concentrate on my driving, since the streets were a little slippery. Apparently the snow had caught the street crews napping, because there hadn't been any salting yet.
All the way home I was wondering whether to tell my folks about Kurt. We weren't boyfriends or anything. Fuck, we'd just met! Mom would be so excited if she thought I'd met someone who could turn out to be special. She and Dad had always been okay with me being gay. Oh, there was the grandchildren thing, but my older brother Rob the CPA and his wife Paula were expecting, so even that wasn't a real problem. I decided not to say anything yet. Maybe I was hoping for too much if I thought that Kurt and I were going to be really good friends. But, damn, I hadn't met any guy that excited me the way Kurt did. There was Brent Collins, of course, but he was different. More like a sexy big brother. After all, he must have been 25 or so!
My folks are cool. Dad teaches history at the local community college. He never finished his PhD, so with only a master's that was the best he could do. Mom is a teacher, too. She is a third-grade teacher at one of the elementaries in our town. We lived comfortably, but there never seemed to be much left over. It cost a lot to get Rob through Kent State and then his grad work leading up to his CPA exam. And I think the folks helped them with the down payment on their house in Fairlawn. By the time I got to college, there wasn't a lot of spare money, which is why I came home to live and transferred from B-W to the conservatory at the university near home.
After supper I hit the books, as usual. I always practiced my horn at school during the day because Dad usually had to do his preparations after dinner, but I set aside a couple hours most evenings to work on my academic classes. That evening, though, I had trouble concentrating. All I could think about was Kurt and his beautiful eyes and his fantastic smile. And his big package and cute butt.
By comparison with the huge state universities, our school was only medium sized at best, but with 8000 students, all of the B & G crews were kept busy. The electrical crew was constantly stretched thin. That's why I had requested adding at least one more person. The request wasn't approved in time to get someone new for the fall term, but we did hire a new guy just after the first of the year.
Jay Bonner was just out of the service. He was overqualified for our job, but he wanted to work on campus for a while before he began to take courses at the university. He was 22 but looked younger. About my height, that is, six feet even, he was pretty thin. I assumed he was in good shape, being just out of the Air Force, but he looked as if he was even thinner than Brent. He had brown eyes, black hair, and a sort of light coffee-colored skin. He still wore his hair in a kind of high and tight military style, but he'd grown one of those beards that just runs along the edge of the jaw. I knew immediately he was "family." That's not why he got the job, but it certainly didn't hurt his chances any. I may as well also mention that there was a nice bulge in his work pants and he had a cute butt, which, like those of many men of his race, was high and prominent.
When something went wrong with a third job I'd done, I decided I needed to get someone else involved. I didn't want to admit to anyone that I was making mistakes, things that could turn out to be serious, but I needed someone to corroborate that I was doing the job right. I hit upon a plan.
The next repair job that came through, I put my name on the work order. Then I found Jay and asked him to come along. I told him he was to do the job while I watched. He didn't act as if he thought that was unreasonable, so we went to the Chemistry Building to make the repair. Obviously a competent electrician, Bonner did the job perfectly, and I told him so.
The next morning, B & G got a call from the head of the Chemistry Department. Every time they tried to use the piece of equipment plugged into the circuit Bonner had worked on the day before, a breaker kicked out. I took Bonner with me. When we looked at the wiring he'd worked on the day before, it had obviously been tampered with. Not enough to cause a severe short and possibly a fire, but enough to throw the breaker.
"Shit, Gabe," he said. "Somebody's fucked with this."
"Obviously. Now look, Jay. That's the reason I wanted the two of us here yesterday afternoon. I didn't really doubt that you could do the job. I just wanted a witness to what was done on this job. This sort of thing has happened several times before."
"Boss, it looks like we've got a case of sabotage."
"Yeah, I'm afraid it does. Now, I want you to promise me you won't say anything about this to anybody. If you suspect something of this sort happens with work that anybody else has done, come to me, okay?"
"Sure. But who could be doing this?"
"I don't have a clue at this point, but I'm sure as hell going to find out."
I finished my four-year hitch in the Air Force in November. I had accumulated some college tuition benefits, but I wasn't sure what I wanted to major in, so I thought I'd use my Air Force training to get a job. I had been an electrician, and I had no trouble getting the necessary certificates in the county.
I should explain that I'd grown up in Lorain, the youngest of three brothers. My folks didn't have any money to spare for college, so the Air Force seemed like a good bet for me. And it was. I learned a trade, was forced to be in better shape than I'd ever been in high school, got a roof over my head, clothes to wear, three squares a day, and more spending money than I really needed.
The worst part about being in the service was having to live in the barracks with all those guys. Even though I was an E-5 toward the end of my tour of duty and had a room, there were still gang showers. Even at 22 I tended to bone up when I saw naked guys, especially young, buff naked guys like my buddies. So, I didn't ask, and I didn't tell, but it was a kind of on-going misery.
I decided to try to get a job at the university. It was far enough away from my folks that they wouldn't be constantly watching me, but close enough that I could go home once in a while. I thought I could work on campus and see if I got any ideas about what kind of major I might want. And, as an employee, I got free tuition, so even when the government benefits ran out, I'd be able to keep going to school. It would take a while doing it part time, but I was in no hurry.
One of the best things about the new job was my boss, Gabe Sutton. He was easy to work for, the kind of guy who let you know he trusted you to get the job done and wasn't always looking over your shoulder. But he seemed to know what I was doing and often told me that he was pleased with my work. Besides that, he was one sexy dude.
So, here I was. I had a little apartment not too far from campus, I had a job I liked and could do well, and I had a boss that was not only a nice guy but a treat for the eyes.
When the problems started, I was really flattered that Gabe asked me to go along with him to check them out. Then he told me that he wanted me to do it because I was the new guy on the crew. But I still enjoyed getting to work with him. Some of those jobs mean you are physically close together, and I didn't mind that a bit. And the more I worked with him the more I was sure he was gay.
Don't get me wrong. He never said anything to make me think that. He never touched me in an inappropriate way, though we rubbed shoulders and thighs occasionally as we worked in some tight spots. He was not in the least effeminate. But they say we're supposed to have "gaydar," and if mine was any good, Gabe Sutton was like me. He was about thirty, I'd guess, and Sherry Nordone had told me he wasn't married and didn't do any dating. I could tell she had a real case of the hots for him just the way she talked about him. I wasn't hot for Gabe, but I liked him a lot and really felt comfortable working with him.
The recital was interesting, as always. It gave us students a chance to hear works performed that we might never have heard before, or things that we'd heard only on cd's. It also gave us a chance to scope out the competition. You could tell the people with talent from those who were never gonna make it as performers. Of course, a lot of Con students were majoring in music ed, music history, theory, or composition and weren't primarily performance majors at all. But they all played some sort of instrument and were expected to perform at least once a year.
Sitting next to Kurt was a treat because he was so freakin' hot. I was proud just to be there with him. Everybody knew him. People were waving and calling his name in the lobby and even as we found seats in the recital hall. But he was also funny. Of course we didn't talk while someone was performing, but I kept glancing sideways at him because I could tell from the expression on his face what he thought of the way they were playing. Once he turned to me and had crossed his eyes. I had to stifle a snort of laughter. But the poor kid who was struggling with his bassoon was obviously losing the battle. I just hoped he would make a good theory teacher or whatever.
When it was all over, Kurt asked, "So, you said yesterday we'd go somewhere afterward. What did you have in mind?"
"Geez, Kurt, I didn't have anyplace in particular in mind. Got any ideas?"
"I wish we could have a beer someplace, but this is Ohio, after all. Actually, I just want to get you alone so we can talk some more."
"Well, there's the Union."
"Nah, that place is so noisy!"
"I'm always hungry."
"Okay, my car's outside. What about a burger or something?"
We wound up at the Burger King. We each had a chocolate shake and an order of French fries. We talked about our lives, about what it was like to be gay in high school. I told him about Pete, who'd been my best friend and only sex partner in the last two years of high school. Pete had gone to Carnegie Mellon, and I missed him. We emailed a couple of times a week. He loved the university in Pittsburgh, and just after Christmas he'd written all excited about this guy he'd met.
Kurt told me that he'd had a bunch of fuck and/or suck buddies in high school. Since coming to the University, because he was popular, he'd had lots of offers, from women as well as men. Even the women who knew he was gay seemed to think they could change his orientation if he'd just give them a try. But he hadn't found anybody special, and in fact hadn't been sexually very active during that current academic year.
He nearly blew me away when he stared at me with those incredible eyes and said, "I think I must have been waiting for you."
`Ohmygod!' I thought, as my cock began to swell up in my jeans. I stuck my hand under the table to readjust things down there.
Kurt knew exactly what I was doing and grinned. "Aha! You must feel something for me, too, right?"
"Jesus, Kurt. You're the greatest looking guy on campus, and I haven't been able to think about anything but you since you sat down at my table yesterday!"
He dabbled a fry in a puddle of catsup, held the fry up, tilted his head back, and sucked the whole thing slowly into his mouth. My cock burped out a bunch of precum, and I got short of breath for a minute.
"What did you say your roomie's name is?"
"I don't suppose he'd be out this evening?"
He frowned. "Like I told you, man, he's never out. I don't think he ever goes to class. The only time he's away is when his fraternity has some sort of mandatory function." He took another fry and washed it down with a swallow of his shake. "I don't suppose your parents are out this evening?"
I shook my head. "I think they must be like TJ. They never go anywhere, especially not on week nights. Oh, they take in a movie a couple of Saturday evenings a month. Once in a while on weekends they'll get invited to friends' houses for dinner. And when the community college where Dad teaches has a music or theater event they're likely to go. But tonight? Nope, Dad's got his lesson plans done by now, and they're parked in front of the tv."
"Fuck, man. There's got to be someplace we can go."
What he had in mind was so clear that my cock was straining against the leg of my jeans and drooling almost constantly. I put my hand down there and felt a wet spot where it had leaked through the denim.
"Have you had enough of this stuff?" I asked, gesturing toward the shakes and fries.
"Come on, then."
His face lighted up. "You've thought of a place?"
"Not a place, exactly, but any port in a storm, right? Let's go!"
We went out to my car. I drove from the Burger King parking lot to the much bigger parking lot of a popular tavern. I parked at the very edge of the lot, as far as possible from the bar itself, where there were a couple of cars with their windows all steamed up.
I'd always wanted a nice, sporty car with leather buckets and a shifter on the floor. I was glad that night to have my old Lumina. I switched off the ignition.
"Hey, man, it's going to get cold in here if you do that."
"Yeah, but the windows won't steam up if we leave the heater on."
"You're so smart! I hadn't thought of that. Looks like we'll have to keep each other warm."
I grabbed the lever and pushed the seat back as far as it would go. Then I tilted the wheel up as far as it would go. As soon as I had done that, Kurt had stripped off his gloves and was fumbling with the buttons on my 501's.
"Wait a minute," I said. I unzipped and took off my jacket, tossing it into the back seat. He did the same. Then he went back to my jeans. When he had them unbuttoned, he tried to shove them down. I lifted my butt so he could push my jeans and boxers out of the way. Immediately my hard cock popped up. He had it in his mouth instantly and had swallowed all of it a few seconds later. Pete learned to deep throat my 6 inches, but it always took him a while to get it all down. Kurt just vacuumed it in.
I was zoning out, running my fingers through his thick, wavy hair while he sucked me. He brought me back to earth by sliding his hand under my balls and taint. He wiggled his fingers so that I knew to lift my ass up a little. As soon as I did that, he was working a finger into my hole. I was glad I'd showered just before I'd come to the recital and that I'd worked a soapy finger up there. My thoughts about personal hygiene vanished, though, as he wiggled that finger around while he sucked me. Needless to say, I didn't last long.
"I'm gonna come!" I said, trying to push his head off my cock. He made a growling noise and wouldn't pull off, so I surrendered. Moments later I exploded into his mouth. There must have been more of it than he was expecting or some got in his nose, because he pulled off and began to cough.
"Kurt, you all right, man? I'm sorry."
He coughed again, sat up, put a hand behind my head and said, "Not your fault, babe. My technique's a little rusty, that's all. Now, come here."
He pulled me toward him for a kiss. I tasted my cum in his mouth, but it was a wonderful kiss. Pete never wanted to kiss. He said that was what women wanted and he didn't like it. That kiss showed me what I'd been missing. I wanted it to go on forever, but it was getting colder in the car, and I wanted Kurt's dick in my mouth.
I pulled away. "That was fantastic, Kurt. Now, it's your turn."
"Dane, I think I've just had my turn. I loved having your cock in my mouth, I loved giving you pleasure, and your cum tastes wonderful. What more could I ask?"
I chuckled. "I'm glad you liked it, stud, but now you've got to let me see what you've got. And how it tastes."
Not waiting for me to help, he had his jeans and his thong around his knees in a flash. When I saw the thong, I said, "No wonder your ass looks so good when you're wearing jeans."
He chuckled. "You like my ass?"
Then I leaned over and grabbed his dick. It must have been an inch longer than mine and about the same thickness. I grabbed it at the base and began to lick the precum off the head. Kurt began to moan. After a while I took as much of it as I could get into my mouth. I hadn't sucked a cock since August. That's like riding a bicycle, though. Once you've learned, you never forget, but your ride can be a little wobbly if it's been a while. I remembered about the teeth, of course, but I had to work slowly to get it all into my mouth and throat. Kurt was encouraging me to take my time, to go slow, not to worry.
I thought this was a pretty special guy to be concerned about me when he was getting a blow job. A lot of guys just think about the pleasure they're getting.
It was wonderful having a hot, hard, velvety, pre-cum-covered cock in my mouth. And hearing Kurt tell me how good it felt made it even better. I forgot what an awkward position I was in. I forgot that it was getting cold in the car. I forgot about Pete. I lost track of time because blowing Kurt was the best thing I'd done, maybe all my life.
He warned me when he was about to come, but I wasn't about to miss out on taking his load in my mouth. I did pull back far enough that it came in my mouth instead of my throat. It was a big load, and it tasted wonderful. My cum is salty, Pete's is practically tasteless but thicker than mine. Kurt's was thick, too, but it had a delicious nutty taste.
I licked his cock clean and then sat up. As we were kissing, the car began to light up with alternate red and blue flashes.
"Oh, fuck," Kurt said as he quickly pulled up his thong and jeans.
Not bothering to pull my boxers and jeans up, I started the car, turned on the lights, and began to wipe the windshield with my hand. I could hear cars on either side of us starting, too. The cruiser didn't stop. It just moved very slowly along the row of cars with its rack flashing. I guess they just wanted us to move along.
It was getting on toward midnight by then, so, after putting myself back together, I drove Kurt back to his dorm.
"Fuck, Dane, this is so frustrating. I want us to be together, you know?"
"Yeah, Kurt," I said. "In the worst way."
"Got any ideas?"
"The only thing I can think of is a motel room, and I can't afford that."
"Neither can I. We have to think of something." He leaned over and we had another tongue duel. "It's been great, studmuffin. I'll see ya tomorrow?"
"Yeah, why don't we grab some lunch together?"
"Meet me by the parking lot door of the Con at noon, and we'll go to Applebee's or somewhere."
"Deal." After he got out of the car, he stuck his head back inside and said, "Goodnight, lover."
God, how I wanted to be his lover!
One evening Gabe and I were having dinner. It was my turn to cook, and I had decided to take us out to Tony Roma's instead. We ordered hot artichoke dip with toasted pita bread pieces for an appetizer and asked for merlot, since it would stand up to the ribs we both planned to have.
It had been a week or thereabouts since Gabe had mentioned the wiring problems at work, so I asked him for an update.
"It looks like a case of somebody deliberately doing it, baby."
"That's hard to believe. Who would do something like that?"
"I have no idea, but it's got to be somebody on my crew. Each of the tamperings has involved a job with my name on the work order, so it has to be someone who has access to those work orders."
He paused to scoop up some dip on a pita chip and eat it.
"I've been taking the new guy along on jobs I've done lately. He knows about these bits of sabotage, so we just explain that he's going with me as part of his being introduced to the work we have to do. And three times now, although the rest of the crew doesn't know anything about this, we've found little things changed after we both worked on a job and know we did it right. Besides that, whoever's messing things up isn't doing anything that could cause a lot of damage. Oh, there was one case where we had to install a new copier for the English Department. It came with a new kind of tail on it, so we had to change the outlet. Our saboteur's little job there caused some smoke which blackened the wall around the outlet before the breaker tripped."
I thought about what he'd told me. "You're right, hon. All that sounds like an inside job." Then I chuckled.
"Brent, this isn't funny."
"Oh, I know it isn't. It's just that the two of us sound like a couple of characters from a detective novel."
He grinned. "Yeah, I see what you mean. So, okay, it seems to me the only people with means and opportunity are the folks on the electrical crew."
"Yeah, you've convinced me of that. What's left? Oh, motive! Who on your crew would have a motive for all that vandalism?"
"That's what's got me stumped. Somebody who's disgruntled? Unhappy with his working conditions? Maybe with a grudge against the University?"
"I hate to ask, but is there somebody who could have a grudge against you, Gabe?"
He took a sip of his merlot and then stared at the wine left in the glass. "Not that I'm aware of. But I guess I'd better try to find out."
Our hunky waiter, obviously a university student, came with our ribs, and we hungrily tucked into them.
When we had finished the main course, we both ordered coffee. Gabe asked for apple pie, but I wasn't hungry any more so I didn't order dessert.
"So, what's new at work for you?"
"Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. Dane was in for a lesson today."
"He was walking about a foot off the floor."
"Well, we know he's light in the loafers."
"Yeah, but Dane had the kind of euphoria I'd guess goes only with being in love."
"Did you ask him about it?"
"Uh huh." I took another bite of pie.
"Well, come on, give! What did he say?"
"He and Kurt Schlegel have become `special friends.'"
"I wondered about that, but I didn't think I should ask."
"I remember Kurt Schlegel. I heard him play in a couple of recitals last year, when he was a freshman."
"Yes, word around the Con is that he's the best piano student we have. We'll have to be sure to go the next time he plays."
"Well, good. Now maybe your little horny hornist can get his ashes hauled and get his mind back to his music."
I chuckled and signaled our waiter for the check.
To be continued.