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.
There was a certain awkwardness inherent in our schedule of staying one weeknight at each place and alternating weekends, but I was at least accustomed to waking up in Gabe's bed. Actually, as he liked to say, it was our bed at his place and our bed at my place.
That Saturday morning I woke up and snuggled against the warm body of my lover, feeling wonderfully contented and well fucked. My bung hole wasn't sore, probably because by that time it was well broken in. When Gabe and I first became lovers, we took turns topping. I'd had no experience except that one time with Guy, so I didn't really know what I preferred. As time passed, however, I began to think I was by inclination a bottom. Most of the time, at any rate, I craved the sensation of Gabe's cock inside me. I felt completed, somehow, when he was there filling me. On the other hand, it was his magnificent ass that first attracted my attention, and I continued to drool over it. When I saw him in jeans, or in his workout shorts, or bending over to take off his boxers, I wanted to lick his perfect glutes, or bite them, or rim his pucker. And, of course, at those times I also wanted to fuck him. Gabe was always very understanding, very accommodating. Whenever I wanted, he'd grin and get into position – on all fours for my oral ministrations, on his back to take my eager cock.
One of my fantasies was to fuck him while he wore nothing but his white socks and work boots. I had told him that once, and, smiling, he'd said maybe someday he'd make that come true.
As I lay there that morning, spooned against him as he slept, I thought about the boys who'd spent the night in my apartment. I smiled, wondering how many times and in what ways they'd given each other pleasure. Then I wondered what condition my place would be in when I returned there that afternoon.
"Mornin', lover," Gabe said softly, sleep in his voice. He rolled over and rose up on one elbow, looking down at me. "Sleep well?"
"Always when I'm with you, lover."
"PST time?" (That's Piss, rinse with Scope, and turn up the Thermostat.)
"Yeah!" We sprang out of bed. He went downstairs to the thermostat while I used the bathroom. Then I quickly got back into bed while he used the bathroom. He jumped in with me as soon as he was finished so we could snuggle and kiss while the house warmed up. Between kisses I asked, "Gabe, have you ever thought of installing one of those thermostats that lowers the temp at night and raises it in the morning"
"There's one in a box in the garage."
"But . . . ?"
He licked my ear. "If I installed it, we wouldn't have any excuse for the nice little cuddle sessions on winter mornings."
"Well," I admitted, "there is that."
The gas furnace had the house warm all too soon. Gabe and I showered and had juice and coffee, according to our Saturday habit. Then we went to the gym. As we were on our way out, a sexy black guy about our height was coming in. He had on a parka, jeans, and work boots.
"Hey, Gabe!" the guy said.
"Jay, workout time, huh?"
"Yeah. You keep me so busy that Saturday's the only time I have for a full workout."
"Hey, man, I'm sorry I've taken up a couple of your nights recently. But your hours are the same as mine, and I find time to work out three or four times a week."
Jay grinned. "Yeah, boss, just yanking your chain." Then he turned to me. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Jay Bonner."
I took his hand. "Gabe's told me about your late-night adventures, Jay. I'm glad to meet you."
Jay was about the same height as Gabe and me. I couldn't tell much about his build because of the heavy coat he was wearing, but he was a great-looking guy. He had big hands and feet. He had a handsome face and a sexy smile. If I hadn't trusted Gabe completely, I might have been jealous of their nocturnal attempts to catch the saboteur.
We said goodbye, and left. Following our custom, we had breakfast – brunch, actually – at Bob Evans. Gabe always teased me about how much I ate at breakfast. I didn't usually have much appetite, but after our early workouts, I was hungry. I had gained a few pounds since Gabe and I got together, but because he kept me working out regularly, it was all muscle. I couldn't see any difference in the way my clothes fit, but I was beginning to show some definition, much to Gabe's approval.
"So," I said, dredging a piece of sausage through a puddle of syrup, "when are you and the trusty Jay going to lie in wait for the B & G saboteur?"
"Some night next week, depending on when Jay's free."
"Well, let's hope he shows up this time. The perp, that is, not Jay."
He'd teased me before about using the word, "perp," so this time he merely shook his head. "For sure! If this keeps on, word's going to get to Frank that I'm screwing up my work." "Frank" was Frank Hudak, the Superintendent of Buildings and Grounds, hence Gabe's boss.
"You know, hon, if Jay's not available, I'll come along."
He grinned. "Sure you're not a little jealous? Jay is a hunk after all. Or is it that you're just itching to be in on the denouement?"
"You know I trust you. But I confess I'd like to be there when you catch the vandal. It would add a little excitement to the humdrum life of this professor."
"What if he decided to take a swing at us?"
I batted my eyes at him. "Then you'd protect me, wouldn't you?"
He laughed. "Hey, I was an English major, remember? I've no experience in fighting, so you might have to protect me."
"Seriously, Gabe, maybe you'd ought to think of some other way to deal with this jerk."
"No, I'm not afraid. It has to be somebody in the electrical crew, and I don't think any of them would get physical. After all, whatever his problem with me is, he's taking a pretty sneaky way of expressing it, a coward's way, if you will. Otherwise, why not just confront me about whatever it is that's bothering him?"
Although I was spending the weekend with Gabe, I was curious about how Dane and Kurt had left my apartment, so mid afternoon I went there to check, leaving Gabe listening to the Saturday afternoon broadcast from the Met.
The first thing I saw was a bud vase containing two red roses. Beside it was a card that said, "Brent, Thanks! You're the best! Love, Dane and Kurt." After I put the roses back on the coffee table, I became aware of the smell of lemon. Looking around, I could see that they'd Pledged all the surfaces. Then I saw Hoover marks on the carpet. The place looked better than it ever had since I moved in. Checking around the apartment I discovered that they'd not only dusted and vacuumed, but they'd also emptied all the waste baskets. They had changed the sheets on the bed, and then washed, dried, and folded their sheets and towels. I was so touched by what they'd done that I couldn't wait to get back and tell Gabe about it.
Monday afternoon I had done a minor job in the Sports Complex, as it was somewhat grandiosely called. When I was finished I went looking for Guy Mannington. Someone told me he was working with one of his gymnasts, so I went to their practice area. He was indeed working with a student on his ring exercise. The boy was about the same size as Guy, but otherwise they made quite a contrast. He was a beautiful oriental with shiny black hair which he wore a little longer than most gymnasts wear theirs. As I came through the doorway, Guy was boosting the kid up so he could grab the rings.
What a sight that was! Both beautifully built men with their arms extended, the kid's to catch the rings and Guy's, hands on the boy's hips, pushing him upward. The boy was in a practice uniform, whereas Guy wore cotton gym shorts and a sleeveless tee. But the muscles of both were there aplenty, and my breath caught as I watched that graceful move performed by two perfect male specimens.
Guy said nothing as the boy went through his routine, but he never took his eyes off him. I thought it looked great, including a perfect iron cross and a spectacular dismount. After the younger athlete had stuck his landing, Guy went over and put his arm on the boy's shoulder. He was smiling as he spoke to him. He spoke so softly I couldn't hear what he was saying, but the kid nodded, shaking some sweat off his head as he did. Then he said, "Thanks, Coach!" Guy slapped him on the rump, and he headed off for the showers.
Then Guy noticed me. "Hey, Gabe, good to see you, man. What brings you here?"
"Oh, had a little job to do upstairs, so I thought I'd stop by for a minute. That kid looks awfully good to me."
Guy grinned. "Yeah, he looks good to me, too. And he's also an excellent gymnast."
I punched him on the shoulder. "Come on, that's what I meant."
"Of course it is, you letch. But he is gorgeous, isn't he?"
"You're the perv here. But I admit I don't know how you stand it, having all these beautiful boys around all the time."
"It's got to be strictly professional, Gabe. You know I don't do students."
"You've told me that, and I believe you. But, as I said, it must be hard." Woops, I'd done it!
"Hard as a rock most of the time. Now, come on in the office and let's talk."
When we were sitting on opposite sides of his desk, he asked, "How are you and Brent doing?"
"Guy, we're very happy together, thanks for asking."
He bent his wrist and wagged his hand up and down as if he'd touched something hot. "Whenever I think of the two of you together, I almost come. Sure you wouldn't like to have a little three-way action?"
"Come on, Guy. Brent and I are together, as in together."
"That's pretty obvious. But you wouldn't be cheating or anything if you were both involved, so what's the harm?"
"Maybe you wouldn't understand. You see, Brent and I love each other. Sex is an expression of that love. Now, don't get me wrong here. You are one very sexy guy, and a nice guy, too. Brent and I both know that. But since we don't feel for you the way we feel about each other, I don't think either of us would be comfortable having sex with you."
He was smiling sweetly at me as I said all that. "I understand, Gabe. But you can't blame me for trying. Now, what brings you to see me? Obviously you're not here for a quickie."
"Guy, I'm embarrassed to tell you. I'm here because Brent is pissed with you."
"He sent you?"
"No, he doesn't know I'm here."
"Then, frankly, I'm confused."
"I understand. Here's the thing. And you must understand, it's Brent who thinks this, not me."
Still smiling, he said, "Maybe you'd better just say it."
"Are you and Bruce McDermott fucking each other?"
He gasped. Then he began to laugh. When he'd finished, he said, "Well, I asked you to spit it out, didn't I?"
"No offense to Bruce, but he's not my type. Even if he were, he's straight. You know he's been dating that gorgeous gal from the Con, Rae Menzies."
"Yeah, that's part of the problem. You see, Brent has a very special relationship with Rae, and he thinks Bruce has been getting it on with you while dating her."
"Oh he does? And what gives him that idea?"
"Well, not to go into details, you and Bruce have been seen together several times lately, including a couple of times here in your office."
"Wow! So with my reputation, any time another man comes into my office, the assumption is that we're fucking around?"
"Not to put too fine a point on it, yes. I mean I know you don't do students, but, come on, you do cast a wide net."
He grinned. "Yeah, I suppose I deserve that. As for Bruce, however, it's all very innocent. You know he's a pretty good writer?"
"Yes, I have read several of his stories, and I admire them."
"As it happens, he's working on a story about a young gymnast. I've been helping him with background details, "color," that sort of thing."
"I suspected it was something like that. Do you mind if I tell Brent?"
"Well, I'm a little hurt that he'd think I'd try to break up a couple, but I understand that it was because he was being protective of Rae."
"Thanks, Coach," I said, standing up. I held out my arms, and he came into them. I kissed the top of his head. "You're good folks, Guy, and I appreciate the offer you made earlier, even if I couldn't accept it."
"Sure you couldn't lay a little guilt on Brent and extract our threesome as a penance?"
I chuckled. "Nice try, but no soap." We hugged again and I left.
Not long after the first of the year, a new staff member started showing up for workouts. I made a point of checking with the student at the door to see who he was.
"His name's Jay Bonner, and he's in B & G." Then he grinned at me and said, "Cute, isn't he, Coach?"
"Busted," I said, grinning back at him.
At his next lesson, Dane set down his instrument and came over to me, beaming. He stood on tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek.
"And what was that for?" I asked, a little floored.
"For letting Kurt and me use your place. It was so great! You're so great!"
"I think maybe what you mean is that Kurt is so great," I said, chuckling.
He grinned. "Yeah, well, that, too."
I thanked him for leaving the apartment in such good shape. Then we had to get down to the business of the lesson. He was scheduled to perform at one of the Wednesday student recitals late in April, so we had to choose something for him to play.
"I assume you won't have any trouble finding an accompanist."
He grinned and shook his head. "Nope! I'll have the best!"
I handed him some music. "I'd like you to work on this and tell me what you think. It's a transcription of some of the Mahler "Songs of a Wayfarer" for horn and piano. It's about ten minutes long, and the horn part is very interesting. Let me know next time what you think, okay? Oh, and you should go to the conservatory library and check out a recording of the original vocal version. You'll want to know the songs as songs when you play those melodies. It might be good to listen to both the original German and an English version, in fact."
I think at that point he'd have agreed to anything. We spent the rest of the period working on the piece he'd been assigned for that day.
At the end, I said, "Oh, by the way, Dane. I'm often away from my place overnight. Since you guys were such good guests, there's no reason why you and Kurt couldn't use it again from time to time. And no need for roses next time, though that was very sweet of you both."
His face lighted up. "Really? Cool! When?"
"How does Thursday night sound?"
"Fantastic! I'll check with Kurt, but I'm sure that'd be great." He gave me another hug before grabbing his horn case and leaving.
That evening Gabe came to my place for dinner and the night. I'd made a tuna casserole and had a salad with it. Not gourmet by any means, but filling. And, bless him, he never complained about my cooking. As we were eating, I told him I'd made reservations for our flight to and from Seattle to visit Mom and Spence during spring break.
"That's good, babe. I'm looking forward to meeting your folks."
"You know, I don't really think of Spence as `folks'."
"Has he ever been unpleasant to you, hon?"
"Do you think your mother loves him?"
"Yeah, I'm sure she does."
"Then what's your problem, Brent? Give the guy a break. He's been good to you, and your Mom loves him. What more does he have to do?"
"Look, Gabe, he's not my father, okay? So he's not `folks'."
"Semantics, Brent. Spence is your mother's husband. You admit he's been decent to you and that your mother loves him. Maybe you should think a bit about your attitude toward him."
"Sheesh, Gabe. You've never met the guy."
"Don't you like him?"
"I never said that. Spence is okay."
Gabe raised his hands as if in surrender. "Okay, baby. I didn't mean to start World War III. But just maybe you need to think a bit about your attitude toward Spence. Now, let's change the subject, if that's all right with you."
"Yeah," I said. "Let's do that."
He finished his casserole and took the last swallow of the semillon blanc I'd served with it. "I've got news, but you aren't going to like it. Maybe we'd just better not talk for a while."
I'd obviously ruffled his feathers, and I was sorry. "Gabe, please tell me your news. I apologize for being feisty about Spence."
"My fault. I should never have said anything about your stepfather. My `news' is that I was in the part of the sports complex where Guy Mannington has his office today, so I thought I'd drop by and say hello."
I felt a stab of jealousy and was immediately ashamed it. "And?"
"He was coaching one of his student gymnasts when I got there."
He described the scene in which Guy was helping the kid reach the rings. Obviously he'd found it very erotic, and his description left me with a hard on. Guy was one gorgeous little hunk, and the scene Gabe described so graphically was incredibly hot.
"I wish I'd been there to see that," I said.
He grinned and took another helping of the casserole.
"I went back to his office with him when he was through with the kid."
"Whoa! Tell me how the kid's routine went."
He described it in detail, dwelling on the perfect iron cross and dismount.
"I think I need to start hanging around the gym when Guy's guys are practicing."
"You might seem like a voyeur, you know."
"Yeah, I suppose I would. Fuck."
"Speaking of which . . . ."
He grinned at me. "Uh huh."
Very slowly he took a sip of his wine and set the glass down. "Guy said he'd really love to get us into a three-way."
"Oh, shit! Again? That's the second time he's asked. Persistent, isn't he? What did you tell him?"
"I said no."
"That's good. But did you explain?"
"Of course. I told him we loved each other and that sex was a part of the way we expressed our love. I told him he was a hot little stud and very sexy, as we both knew, but that we were committed to each other now."
I put my hand across the table and he put his over mine. With tears in my eyes, I said, "Gabriel, you are perfect. I'm sorry I was pissy with you a few minutes ago. I'm so lucky to have you. You're right. Guy's a hot little stud, and the thought of a three-way turns me on more than I want to admit. But I don't love him. I love you. You're all I want and need." I wanted nothing more just then than to forget the dishes and jump his bones.
He squeezed my hand and smiled at me. I realized I was beginning to leak into my boxers.
"The story isn't over yet, Brent. Guy told me why he and Bruce McDermott had been getting together recently."
"Yup. Bruce is writing another story about an athlete, a gymnast this time. Gabe swears that the only reason for their getting together is that he's providing background information, color, for Bruce's story. He swears he'd never try to break up a couple, and he knows that Bruce and Rae are a couple these days."
"You're sure he wasn't shitting you?"
"Yeah, babe, I am. I know Guy. He's pretty promiscuous, but he has his standards. He's really a nice guy down deep, I think. So I believe him on this. I think you can relax and quit worrying that Bruce is having sex with Guy."
"And this is the news you thought I wouldn't like?"
"Damn, Gabe. I'm relieved. Happy. I like Guy. It's just that I love Rae, as you know, and was upset to think that Guy was doing anything to hurt her. I suppose now I should re-evaluate my attitude toward Bruce. I admire the story you gave me to read. Maybe he's not such a bad guy after all."
"Maybe he isn't," Gabe said as he finished his wine.
After supper that evening while Brent was doing his preparations, as he called them, I sat in his living room and read. Or tried to read. I kept thinking about him. I reminded myself that I had to quit acting like his father. At the dinner table he must have thought I was chiding him for his attitude toward Spence. Sometimes I felt as if the difference in our ages was more than five years. Not physically. I was stronger and had more stamina than he did. But he seemed, not immature exactly, but naive at times. Yet he had opened up a great deal since I first met him.
Back in September Brent had been friendly enough but pretty reserved. Now that we'd been doing everything but living together for two months, he'd relaxed and, well, blossomed. He got prickly once in a while, like that episode over Spence at the dinner table, but he was basically an even-tempered, sweet guy. I had come to believe, however, that he was still a bit insecure, a trait that went all the way back, I suspected, to his being beaten and then outed in high school. I also realized that I was his first relationship ever.
Obviously I needed to be patient and careful with him. I loved him too much to alienate him. What I should be doing, I decided, was to bolster his self-confidence. In the classroom and the studio I had no doubt Brent was perfectly in control. I don't think he had any reservations about himself as scholar or teacher or musician, for that matter. But in the personal arena, maybe I just needed to cut him lots of slack when he occasionally got touchy. Above all, I needed to keep reminding him I loved him.
He came out of the bedroom he used for an office a few minutes before 10:00.
"Hey, prof. Would you like a brandy? Or how about hot chocolate?"
"The cocoa sounds good."
We fixed it together, adding a little Kahlua to each mug. Then we went to the living room where we watched a rerun of "Law and Order." We propped our feet on the coffee table and sat with our shoulders touching.
"Did you know that Jerry Orbach played the sleazy lawyer, Billy Flynn, in the original version of `Chicago,' back in the 70's?" he asked me.
"I knew he had a good voice and had done musicals, but I didn't know he'd been in that one."
"A very different role from the straight-arrow homicide detective he plays on this series."
During a commercial I leaned over and nuzzled his ear. He shivered and turned toward me. Neither of us remembered whether Sam Waterston won his case or not. By the time we came up for air the news was on. We shut off the tv and went to bed.
Since we were at his house, I used the bathroom while Brent did the lock up, batten down for the night routine. I held up the covers for him to get in, pulled him to me, and covered us up. I'd not lost my erection while getting ready for bed, and it poked him in the stomach. His poked right back. We resumed kissing, this time humping each other's bellies as we did.
We were getting too close, and I didn't want to rush this, so I pushed myself away from him a little. He scooted toward me and whimpered, like a puppy. I had to pull him back against me because he was so adorable, but I whispered in his ear, "Fuck me, baby?"
He kissed me lightly and then said, "Coax me."
I loved it when Brent got into one of his playful moods. I took them to mean that he was relaxed and happy. "Um, Dr. Collins, please, sir, stick your manly professorial prong in this lowly electrician's unworthy hole and fuck it. I need you so badly inside me, to make me complete, to make me yours. Fuck me, professor, please, sir!"
He giggled and reached for the lube. (We'd both been tested and had been together long enough that we'd dispensed with the condoms.) "Sutton, you are SO full of it! Turn over. I want to get you ready."
"Oh, sir," I said, "I'm ready."
He growled. "You'll be ready when I say so!"
I expected him to lube my anus and a finger and begin to probe. Instead, I felt his tongue. He was going to rim me first. I wiggled my butt, sighed contentedly and let him do his thing.
"Ohhh, sirrr, what a lovely tongue you have!"
He growled again but didn't let up. And he'd gotten to be very good at it in two months' time. I'd never given him any tips or suggestions about rimming, but he must have remembered what I did to him. By this time, at any rate, he clearly knew what he was doing, and I sank into a blissful fog.
It was my turn to whimper when he quit tonguing my chute, but I realized that even better was to come. I was accustomed to his cock, so it didn't really hurt any more when he slid it into me, though it still took a little while for me to adjust. He didn't say anything more to me as he moved his long cock in and out. Usually we did it missionary style, but he'd left me in the doggie position this time. He leaned over and licked my back, nibbled my neck and shoulders. When he hit my prostate for the first time I lurched. He chuckled and adjusted so that he was hitting it regularly. Then for a while the room was quiet except for my groans of pleasure and the sound of his movement as he continued to move very slowly in and out.
Even though I was still lost in the incredible feelings generated by his cock on my nut, when the pace of his movement increased and his breath became more labored, I knew he was about to come. I'd been pushing my ass back to meet his thrusts, so there wasn't much I could do except enjoy the ride. We'd had simultaneous orgasms once or twice when I was inside him, but never until then had we managed it when he was the "doer." This time, however, his dick was at the perfect angle and rubbed my prostate almost constantly. I don't know whether it was the little bit of role playing we had done or whether it was from another cause, but that was my best experience ever as a bottom. It felt so good to be giving him pleasure as I received it from him. I felt, too, that I was somehow submitting to my lover, being completed by my lover, in a way I didn't feel when I was the top. I had "let" him have the upper hand, so to speak, but this experience made me feel I had been given back more than I gave up. Relinquishing control was my gift of love and trust to Brent, but his dick and his seed inside me were his very tangible, real gifts of love back to me. As I've said, I'd bottomed for Brent and for other men before him. But this time I realized I wasn't doing anyone any favors. This was good. For me.
I was brought out of my sex-inspired meditation when we both exploded. Instead of collapsing on my back, as one often does, he slapped me on the right cheek and said, "And let that be a lesson to you, Sutton!" Then, chuckling, he pulled out and went to the bathroom to clean up. So much for my reverie.
I was having lunch one day at the cafeteria of the Union when it was pretty crowded. It was pretty noisy, too, but that's what you'd expect in a place full of college students on their lunch break. Most of the tables had people who were talking, laughing, obviously having fun. I was digging into my bowl of chili and sort of people watching when I saw this really cute little guy headed toward me. He had a tray with a salad and a bottle of water on it. He was short, blond, with incredible blue eyes, and he was way built. Even with his jacket on, I could tell that he had broad shoulders and narrow hips. He looked about my age, maybe a little older, it was hard to tell. And he kept coming toward my table.
"Hi," he said. "Mind if I sit here? There don't seem to be any vacant tables."
"No, please join me."
He smiled at me. Actually, he sort of twinkled at me. I wasn't used to men smiling at me like that, and I felt my cock begin to swell up. I'd never been particularly turned on by short guys, but this one was different somehow. I watched as he took off his coat and put it over the back of the chair. My first instinct had been right. This dude had wonderful shoulders, as I could see through the sweat top he was wearing. His jeans showed that he had no hips at all, but a bubble butt to make your mouth water..
He reached his hand across the table. "I'm Guy Mannington."
"Jay Bonner," I said.
"Yeah," he said. "I know."
"You know me?"
He twinkled again. "Uh huh. I've seen you at the gym, and I asked the kid who checks for ID's what your name was. He told me you're in B & G, right?"
"Yeah. Why did you ask about me? You some kind of stalker?" I was sorry I'd said that. It just sort of popped out.
He looked worried. "No way, man. But I work there, and I just sort of like to know who the regulars are, you know?"
"You work there?"
"Yeah, I'm one of the gymnastics coaches."
"I might have known. You've got the perfect body for it."
"I'm sorry about the stalker remark. I'm just not used to people around here being interested in me."
"Jay, dude, I was glad when I saw you here today. The first time I laid eyes on you I thought you looked lonely. So tell me, are you lonely?"
"Well, yeah. I'm new in town. Just moved here to start work the first of the year, and I don't know anybody yet. I have an apartment by myself, so the only people I've met are the guys I work with."
"What do you do in B & G?"
"I'm an electrician."
"Oh, you're part of Gabe's crew."
"Yeah, you know Gabe?"
"Sure do. I'd think he'd be a good boss."
"He's the best."
"Hunky, too, isn't he?"
"Hey, wait a minute, dude, that's –"
He leaned toward me. "Shh! Jay! Relax, man. It's okay. I'm gay, too."
"But how did you know?"
"My gaydar is infallible. So far, at least."
"Man, that's amazing. I just got out of four years in the Air Force, and I swear nobody knew."
"Like I said, relax. You could fool almost everybody. Just not me. And you are lonely, aren't you?"
I took a deep breath. I was still adjusting to the shock that this strange white dude had known I was gay. "Well, yeah, I am. You're the first person since high school I've admitted that to. And you've gotta promise not to tell anybody. I wouldn't want Gabe or the others on our crew to know."
He gave me that cute smile again. "I promise not to tell anyone, Jay."
I'd finished my lunch and needed to get back to work, but I hated to leave Guy. I don't know what was going on with him, but my meat was swelling in my jeans.
"Look," he said, giving me a sexy smile, "I know you need to run. How about having dinner with me this evening? You need a friend, and I'd like to get to know you better."
Damn, the man didn't waste any time. I wasn't used to being cruised, but I wasn't about to say no to that hunky little dude. "Uh, yeah, that sounds good."
"Know a place called Hernando's?"
"No, `fraid not."
He told me how to get there, and we agreed to meet at 7:00.
To be continued.