Date: Sat, 16 Feb 2002 12:13:47 -0800 (PST)
From: jfinn <writnword@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Human Condition  Chapter 5

Author's note:

This is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to any person living or dead is
purely coincidental.  This is also a story that includes graphic sexual
scenes, mainly of a homosexual nature, but where appropriate to the story,
also heterosexual and bisexual encounters.  If you are underage, or it is
illegal for you to read such writing, stop now.  For those of you who are
continuing, be further warned that this is a novel with plot, character
development and a very, very slow introduction to the sexual elements of
the story.  If you're looking for a stroke piece you need to look
elsewhere.

The author reserves all rights to this story, but will allow others to
repost this work to any free Internet sites that wish to use it as long as
full credit to the writer is given.

jfinn


The Human Condition


Chapter 5



	I must have dozed off.  The answering machine had already picked up
by the time I absorbed the knowledge that the phone was ringing.  The
buzzer beeped and the message started.

	"Hi guys."  A very familiar low voice spoke out from the box.

	"It's me.  I don't know what you two are up to that has you so busy
you can't pick up...  Or wait, maybe I do, but let's not go there, okay?"

	I laughed softly to myself.

	"Anyway, I called to let you know we're going to be a little late.
Don't roll your eyes, Joe, you only have to take care of yourselves this
weekend.  We've got all the kids, plus a couple extra I've never seen
before, and both dogs, which are almost more work.  Grandma has her yoga
class until 9:30, so she can't come over and scare the Hell out of them
like she normally does either.  And to top it off, my darling wife is in
the bathroom with morning sickness even though I told her she can't be
because she's in her third trimester, which probably wasn't the wisest
thing to say..."

	I reached for the phone but stopped when I heard Joe leave the
bathroom and pick up the hall receiver.  He strolled into the bedroom with
his hand on the cordless.  Half his face was shaved and he still had bed
hair and I almost jumped him- he looked so gorgeous.

	"Sure, sure," he was saying into the receiver, "let me talk to
her."

	He winked at me and motioned for me to pick up the phone.  I shook
my head lazily and he shrugged.

	"Hey, sweetheart, how's it going?"  He frowned and I sat up.  "Your
stomach hurts?"  He listened and the worry was replaced by amusement.
"Even though you know that can't happen in the third trimester."

	I rolled my eyes and flopped back down on the bed.

	"Well, why don't you try eating some ice cream to settle your
stomach?"

	"Joe!"  I said exasperated.  "Is that your idea of sound medical
advice?"

	He stuck his tongue out at me and walked back into the hall.  A few
minutes later I heard him hang up.  He came back in the room and lay down
on the bed.

	"Reprieve."  He said staring at the ceiling.  "They'll be about 45
minutes late, which translates to an hour, hour and half minimum."

	"Is she really sick?"  I remembered my earlier concern and wanted
to make sure I was right to let it go.  "I mean we could cancel..."

	"She's not sick.  You worry too much."

	"Oh and you don't."

	Joe turned his head and smiled at me.

	"It's good for her to get out, experience a change of scene."

	I snorted.

	"Watch it.  You're beginning to sound pretty new age there,
Mr. MD."

	"Well," his eyes turned sexy, "I'm a sensitive kind of guy."

	He leaned over to kiss me tenderly then abruptly changed moods and
pinched my ass.

	"Ow!"

	"Come on, let's shower and then I'll make you one of my bean curd
and sprout omelets."

	"My God," I groaned in mock horror, "aliens have come in the middle
of the night and replaced the man I love with Richard Simmons."

	"Never happen.  We're a team, you and me; not even aliens could
separate us."

	He walked out of the bedroom without waiting for my reaction.  He
already knew what it would be.  He was right: nobody would ever separate
us.  Not that a couple hadn't tried...



October 1988

	The sky was cloudless; the air tangy with the sweet scents of fall
and beer.  The sun shone down with hard rays, warming my face and hands.
It was a perfect day for football.  The only problem was: we were losing.

	Carl, my old roommate and perennial football buddy, moaned in agony
as Joe got sacked again.

	"Third down."  Boomed the loudspeaker.

	"I can't watch anymore."  Carl practically whimpered, than matched
his actions with his words and got up.  "You want a dog?"

	I shook my head.  He shrugged in a suit yourself gesture, and took
off trying to beat the half-time mob.

	For four years now, we had been watching the Wolverines together.
As freshman, far away from home and friends, it had seemed expedient to go
to the games together.  After a while, it had become a habit and had given
us some common ground that we didn't otherwise share.  It had been the
basis of a friendship that, while I wouldn't call it close, was something I
valued.

	He had gotten married the previous June to a pretty little blonde
named Ashley, who was sassy and funny and I was half in love with her
myself.  I was surprised and flattered, when he asked me to be one of his
groomsmen.

	Ash didn't like football, but she had graciously agreed that Carl
and I could continue our football affair, as she called it.  So Saturday
afternoons remained the two of us, up in the stands, yelling 'Go Blue!' and
singing Hail To The Victors, regardless of whether the team won or lost.

	There was one difference this year.  Joe had landed us some killer
seats at the 50 yard line.  Now, while most of the students were crammed
into the edges of the stadium, we sat with the Alumni bigwigs.  Joe was so
pleased to have been able to do this for us, that I never told him I kinda
missed the insanity that went on in the student section.

	A hand grasped my shoulder firmly.

	"Jesus," I said without turning around, "that was quick."

	"Mike?"  It was not Carl.

	I swiveled around in my seat, my mouth suddenly gone dry.  There
behind me stood Culvert Atchison Montgomery IV, sexy grin and all.

	It had been over two months since I'd started my new job at the
firm and I'd had plenty of time to check out Cam.  Familiarity had not bred
contempt.  If anything, I thought he'd gotten better looking then when I'd
first laid eyes on him.  A lot of that had to do with how he acted, as well
as the way he was put together.

	He was always friendly, always polite when he made a request and
grateful for any work that you did for him.  He snubbed no one; treated
nobody like they were below his notice.  He knew everybody's name from the
overworked secretaries to the guy who cleaned the washrooms.  It was no
surprise that, I wasn't the only person who'd have jumped in front of him
to take a bullet.  We probably would have fought over the honor.

	My job, as I've mentioned, was research, and I'd be less than
honest if I didn't admit that some of the research I'd done had been on
Cam.  No, I didn't do a TRW on him.  But I asked around, casually, and I
found out as much as I could without risking a reputation as a stalker.

	He was 34 years old, divorced, and the father of two kids, a boy 9
and a girl, 7.  He and his ex-wife, Elise, were friendly; he kept a picture
of her on his desk along with the munchkins.  Rumor had it that his ex had
left him for another guy; but I didn't buy it.  I mean, who could she have
found that would be better than Cam?  He had been raised in Chicago and was
from a wealthy family, but had decided to move to Ann Arbor after the
divorce.

	His sex life was strictly private.  Nobody knew anything for sure,
but the prevailing theory was that he was still heartbroken over the
breakup of his marriage; he even wore his wedding band.  Of course it goes
without saying: I'd of loved to help him out by licking his wounds and any
other body part he wanted me to attend to.

	But being the realist that I am; I'd accepted that wasn't going to
happen anytime soon.  Instead I'd been conducting my own quest for a new
love, or a reasonable facsimile of that phenomena.  My results though, had
been less than spectacular.  I was beginning to be afraid that my senior
year would be a relatively celibate one.  Joe wasn't having a lot of luck
in the love life department either, if his bitching could be believed.

	Ironic isn't it.  Just as we'd realized settling down has some
advantages; we both hit a dry spell.  But the problem faded as I looked at
the ice blue eyes of the face in front of me.

	"Cam!  I thought you were somebody else."  I said inanely and
unnecessarily; the man was not an idiot.

	"Sorry to disappoint you."  But his expression showed how unlikely
he thought that was.

	"No, no, have a seat."

	"Okay, just for a minute."  He swung gracefully around me to sit in
Carl's vacant spot.

	I could feel the heat and strength of his leg as it brushed mine
and the faint smell of some kind of spicy aftershave drifted past my nose.
I had to restrain myself from sniffing appreciatively.  Cam looked around
him and raised his eyebrows.

	"Great seats."

	"Yeah, a friend of mine is on the team.  He got them for me."

	"Joe Lassiter."

	He knew about my friendship with Joe?  My surprise must have
registered in my face, and he answered my unspoken question.

	"Pen told me you two were friends."

	For a second, my heart warmed.  Cam had been asking about me.  His
next sentence told me that wasn't the case.

	"I was telling her about my not so glorious years at Northwestern.
I was second string quarterback.  She told me you knew the kid with the
golden arm."

	"Yeah, not so golden today though."

	I sighed, though it was as much for my disappointment in finding
out Cam was not checking me out, as for the dismal showing the team was
putting out that day.

	"I'm not sure it's entirely his fault, his blockers look like
they've never seen a defensive play before."

	I nodded glumly in agreement.  Cam laughed and shrugged.

	"Hey," he admonished, "everybody has a bad day now and again."

	"Which would be fine, if it wasn't against the Spartans!"

	"Ah yes," he laughed, as only somebody who was from out of town
would, "the famous rivalry."

	"It's not just that," I protested, then grinned at the disbelieving
look on his face, "okay, maybe it is, but you have to understand what it'll
do to our ratings.  State isn't even ranked this year."

	"Cheer up." he squeezed my arm.

	I could feel it all the way to my groin.  Damn, this guy made me
feel like a horny thirteen year old.

	"Maybe they'll do better the second half."

	I managed to stutter out some reply and he took his hand away which
allowed my brain to clear.  We continued to talk about the team, and the
game.  He told me he was with a couple of the partners and their wives, and
pointed to some seats about twelve up from us.

	Carl came back and I introduced them.  Carl joined in the
conversation and we argued, good naturally, about what the Wolverines had
to do to pull this one out.  Finally, half-time ended and Cam rose to
leave.

	"I wish I could stay and sit with you guys."  He said.  "The people
I'm with only want to talk about work.  It's fun talking football."

	"We're going out for some beers later with Lassiter."  Carl said.
"Ditch the stiffs and join us."

	Cam looked at me and I nodded.  My mouth was dry again and I seemed
to have temporarily lost the use of my vocal cords.  Don't be an asshole, I
told myself, this is just a bunch of guys getting together for some brews.
But I almost jumped for joy, when Cam nodded.

	"Thanks, I'd like that.  I'll have to meet you though, I came with
my associates."

	Carl gave him directions to the bar.  I sat there like an idiot.
If I didn't get myself under control; I was in for a very long and
uncomfortable night.

	We lost.  Carl and I waited at the gate until Joe limped over to
us.  He looked beat; he had a cut lip and the beginnings of a black eye.
He saw the look on my face.

	"Don't even start."  He warned, but I ignored him.

	"Jesus Joe, those farm boys kicked the shit out of you."

	"Fuck you Mike."

	"There you go, wishing for the impossible again."

	We walked over to my car.  Well, Carl and I walked, Joe hobbled.
He really did look all out.  I was a little concerned, so naturally I gave
him crap until he groaned and slumped in the back seat of the car and
covered his ears.

	"Christ, why do I put up with this abuse?"  He whined.  "I could
have gone out with some nice young thing who would have given me sympathy,
instead of rubbing salt in my wounds."

	"Yeah, but she wouldn't have liked it when you got shit faced and
threw up all over the place."

	I watched his face brighten at the mention of drinking.  Don't get
me wrong, none of us were really drunks, but this was college and a lot of
male bonding is done over a dozen or so beers.

	We eventually pulled into a dilapidated tavern about 10 miles out
of town.  It was our normal hangout after a game.  Joe liked a little down
time to unwind; so we usually avoided the crowded sports and college bars,
though we probably would end up in one by the end of the evening.

	We walked in and, as usual, it was only half full and everybody
ignored us.  We found a table and ordered a pitcher.  About 15 minutes
later, Cam walked in.

	Carl and I hadn't mentioned he was joining us to Joe.  Carl had
probably forgotten, and I didn't want to seem too eager.  Joe looked at me
quizzically, as Cam sat down.

	"Cam," I said making introductions, "this is Joe Lassiter.  Joe,
Cam Montgomery, he's a partner at Croft.  We saw each other at the game,
and we told him to join us."

	They eyed each other speculatively.  I was amused.  Two alpha males
meeting for the first time can be very entertaining.  Eventually, they
relaxed and started to talk.  Carl joined in, but I took the opportunity to
sit back and watch the action.

	It slowly dawned on me that, they had more in common than just star
quality.  Physically, they were the same body type, coloring, hair, even
eye color, though Joe's were a warmer blue and Cam's body had the mature
musculature of a man in his thirties.  Their voices were similar too.  Low
and masculine with identical inflection and accent; which was reasonable,
when you knew they'd been raised in the same area of the country.

	There were, of course, differences.  Joe had an air of enthusiasm,
a joy in life, while Cam was more wary.  When Joe smiled, it was open and
inviting.  Cam's, I saw, now that I could compare the two, was more ironic
and world weary.  It made sense, when you considered the years and the
experience that separated the two men.  Joe, in another twelve years might
have exactly the same mannerisms if life and love dealt with him as
unkindly as it apparently had Cam.

	I shivered as that thought struck home.  God, I hoped that wasn't a
premonition; no way did I wish that kind of unhappiness on my best friend.

	"You okay?"  Joe said.  "You're kind of far away there, dude."

	"Yeah, just felt somebody walking on my grave is all."

	Joe shrugged and grinned and went back to arguing with Carl.  Cam
stared at me, his face briefly mirroring Joe's concern.  I felt my stomach
lurch, as my attraction to him dug in deeper.  Jesus, I thought, freshman
year I fell in love with Joe, a straight guy, and now I was repeating
history with Cam.  Was this my fate, to always fall for unattainable men?

	Cam was still looking at me.  I wanted to break eye contact, but my
treacherous body wouldn't let me.  Slowly his mouth curled up in a little,
amused grin.  Shit, he knew!

	It was like he could see into my soul.  I felt my face flushing.
The noise of the bar receded; the only thing I was aware of were icy blue
eyes pulling me in like a tractor beam.  At least, when I'd been so hung up
on Joe, I'd been spared the humiliation of him being aware of the
attraction.  Now, I would have to deal with the knowledge that, Cam was not
only fully cognizant of my schoolboy crush; he thought it was funny.

	"Hey ladies."  Carl broke the moment, and I went weak from relief.
"It's been fun; but duty and marriage calls."

	"What you really mean is, you're going home for some sex."  Joe
retorted.

	It was a well established fact; beer made my old roommate horny.

	"Well at least, I'm going to get some tonight, which is more than I
can say about you sad shits."  Carl stood and tossed some bills on the
table.  "Later..."

	He walked away as Joe and I looked at each other and laughed.  Cam
stared at us, puzzled.

	"Watch this."  I said to him with glee.

	Carl walked out of the bar, with his hand searching his pocket.
Through the dusty plate glass window, we saw him stop in the parking lot
and look around.  Finally, he turned back and walked back into the
building, his cheeks a fiery red.

	"Mike?"  He said pouting.

	"Yes?"  I had no intention of not making him squirm.

	"Can I have a ride home?"

	Joe and I broke into a roar.  Cam realized what had happened and he
joined in.  Carl just stood and glowered at us.

	"Assholes."  He muttered.

	"Aw," I said in mock sympathy, "did the little head take all the
oxygen from the big head and make you forget who drove?"

	"Come on Mike, have some mercy."  Joe added.  "Take the boy home,
so he can get some relief."

	We all stood and got ready to leave.  Joe and Cam decided to head
to one of the pubs down by the school.  I was going to meet them for
burgers and more beer, after I dropped off Carl.

	I meant to do just that; but Ash met us at the door and invited me
in.  One look at Carl's agonized face, silently begging me to refuse was
all I needed to agree to stay for awhile.  So, it was almost an hour and a
half until I caught up to them.  Well, one of them anyway.

	"What happened to Joe?"  I asked Cam, when I finally found him at
the bar.

	"He found a young lady with a hot tub."

	He grinned at me and stood.  We grabbed a booth.

	"Sorry, I didn't know you'd be stranded, I got caught by Ashley,
that's Carl's wife."

	"No problem, Joe just left a few minutes ago.  I thought I'd stay
for a while.  I figured you'd show up eventually."

	"Thanks, it was good of you to wait."

	"I wanted to."

	He looked at me with those incredible eyes and I mentally groaned.
I was not prepared to a have a one on one evening with Cam.  It had been
hard enough, no pun intended, to sit with him when Joe and Carl were there
as buffers, I had no idea how I would handle it alone.  I struggled to find
a safe topic.

	"So," I finally managed to croak out, "how did you and Joe get
along?"

	"Okay, he's a nice guy."

	"He's my best friend."

	"He said the same about you."  Something about that statement
amused Cam.  "So tell me, how did you two meet?"

	I told him, and in the telling I started to relax.  It was a story
I'd repeated a lot in the three years I'd known Joe.  I'd learn how to tell
it well, dwelling on the funny aspects and brushing off the real terror and
pain that night had given me.  But as I told it, I remembered, and the
memory made me rub the scar I would always carry on the palm of my right
hand.  Cam noticed; he reached across the table and flipped my hand up and
stared at it.

	"The surgeons did a good job."  He said softly, still holding my
hand in place.

	"It works okay, though my handwriting will never win any awards and
the scar feels kind of weird."  I tried to pull my hand away, but he
tightened his grip.

	"Let me see."  Cam moved his hand to trace the bumpy ridges on my
palm.  Even though I didn't have much feeling there; I shivered from his
touch.

	"It's cooler than the rest of your hand."  He slid his fingers up,
stroking mine.

	My heart pounded in my chest.  Could what I think was happening
really be?  My eyes searched his face.  Yep.  I may have been slow; but I
wasn't a complete imbecile.  Cam grinned a slow sexy smile.  He knew I was
going to be easy.

	"Are you sure?"  I asked.

	I wanted him to spell it out; to make it perfectly clear in my
mind.  He obliged.

	"Sure this is wrong, considering where you work?  Sure I'm getting
in way over my head?  Sure I want you?"  He never broke his gaze.  "Oh yes,
I'm sure."

	He gave my hand a little squeeze, then released it and sat back.

	"I'm starved."  He abruptly changed the subject.  "Didn't you say
this place had great burgers?"

	I nodded dumbly.  He called a waiter over and got some menus.  I
managed to pull myself together enough to order.  Cam started to chat about
work, as if the last few minutes hadn't happened.  Amazingly, I managed to
restrain myself from dropping to my knees and sucking his cock.  If he
wanted to play it cool; than I would too.

	The rest of the night passed in a blur.  Part of me listened and
laughed and responded at the appropriate times, but most of me was consumed
with how the evening would end.

	I shouldn't have bothered.

	We walked out of the pub at a little past midnight.  The streets
were almost deserted, most people were at home by now, or still partying
indoors.  Cam walked with me to my car.  I waited for him to ask me to his
place; I wanted to ask him to mine.  He didn't, and my courage failed me.

	"Do you like the symphony?"  He asked.

	No, was the word that immediately came to mind, although truthfully
I had no experience to base that opinion on.  Like most young American
males; my musical taste ran the gamut of rock to heavy metal.

	"Yes, though I don't know much about it."

	Hey, if the guy had asked me if I liked watching pigs being
slaughtered, I'd have agreed, if it meant seeing him again.

	"Great, I have tickets to the D.S.O. for a special matinee
tomorrow.  We'll go and have dinner afterwards."

	"Sounds terrific."

	I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about.

	"I'll pick you up at 1."  He leaned over and kissed me on the
cheek.  "See you then."

	I nodded, my cock immediately hard from the soft touch of his lips.
It didn't even occur to me until after he'd disappeared, that he hadn't
bothered to ask for my address.

	The next morning, I rose from my bed as nervous as a virgin on prom
day.  I shaved carefully then showered, stroking myself into a climax that
almost made a bulls-eye on the target I'd painted on the shower wall.  The
night before I'd hit it thinking of Cam's hot skin and hard muscles.  I
washed carefully, preparing for whatever was on the menu for after dinner.

	I walked out of the bathroom wearing only a towel.  Joe was sitting
at my table drinking the coffee he'd apparently helped himself to from my
machine.

	"Hey."  He said slurping at his cup.

	"Hey yourself."

	"Hot date?"  He pointed to my bed where I had laid out most of my
wardrobe.

	"Er, something like that."

	I wasn't sure if I should keep my budding romance with Cam a secret
for now.  The man obviously had been trying to keep his sexual preferences
under wraps.  It wasn't my job to challenge that.

	"With Cam?"

	So much for secrets.  I stared at Joe in surprise; except for his
occasional forays into reading my mind, he had never been very perceptive.

	"Come on Mike," he answered my unspoken question, "it was obvious.
The guy never took his eyes off you."

	I couldn't help it, I started to grin.  Joe rolled his eyes.

	"Oh shit, you're gone."  He shook his head and stared at his
coffee.

	"He's great, isn't he?"

	The question was rhetorical.  There was no denying how terrific Cam
Montgomery was.

	I walked over to the bed and looked at my pathetic collection of
ties.  Joe was silent.  I glanced back at him.  He was still staring into
his coffee cup.  An uneasy feeling settled into the pit of my stomach.

	"Joe, you liked Cam didn't you?"  This time I meant to have an
answer.

	"Yeah, he was okay."

	Uh oh, his voice was flat and he still wasn't meeting my eyes.  I
sat across from him at the table.

	"Okay, what's wrong?"

	"Are you sure?"

	I flinched, as he unconsciously repeated my words from the night
before.

	"I mean he's so much older, successful.  It doesn't sound like the
start of a very equal relationship."

	"Gee dad," I said, feeling a little bit better now that I realized
Joe was just being an over concerned friend, "I'm a big boy now.  I think
I'm ready for the big leagues."

	"Think you're ready for 'The Show'?"  Joe relaxed and looked up at
me.

	"Yep, batter up."  I stood, as Joe groaned.

	I walked over to the bed and picked up a shirt and tie and held
them up and looked at the mirror.  I threw them back into a pile on the bed
and tried again.

	"What do you think?"  I turned to Joe.

	"That I'm not Mr. Blackwell, asshole.  Pick out your own fuck me
clothes."  He walked over to the sink and put his cup down.

	"I gotta get going."  He walked to the door.

	"Hey Mike."

	"Mmmm?"  I was still engrossed in my wardrobe selection, so I
missed the serious tone in his voice.

	"Be careful."  He said softly.  "This guy really is a player.  I
don't want you to carried away here."

	My head shot up and I studied the concerned look in his face.  I
appreciated the sentiment, but Dammit, it wasn't really any of his
business.

	"I think that's my decision to make, don't you?"

	I was careful to keep the hint of anger I was feeling out of my
voice.

	"Yeah, you're right."  Joe backed down.  "Later."

	And he was gone.

	I'd like to say, that I thought about Joe's reaction after he left.
Even now, I wonder how things would have turned out if I'd just taken the
time to make him explain himself.  But Hell, I was in testosterone heaven.
The only thing I could think about was, one o'clock was taking a fucking
long time to get here.

	I dressed, thought about it, undressed, beat off again, showered,
redressed.  I was twenty one, the age of almost unlimited orgasms, if Cam
wanted to play later I'd be ready, but at least this way I wouldn't
embarrass myself by sprouting wood the minute I saw him.

	I was still done primping a good forty minutes before Cam was
supposed to arrive.  I pretended to read and went quietly stir crazy.  It
was 1:10.  I'd finally accepted he wasn't going to show, when I heard a
knock at my door.

	It was Cam.  He was wearing a blue blazer, tan chinos and a striped
tie.  It was the ultimate preppy look, and an outfit I'd seen him in many
times, at work.  He looked at me and burst out laughing.  Unconsciously, I
had chosen basically the same clothes.  I flushed, as I realized I'd done
something so juvenile.

	"Hey, imitation is the purest form of flattery."  He said, pushing
me away from the door and entering.

	"But, I think we're a little early into this to start dressing like
twins; don't you agree?"

	He walked over to my closet where I'd just rehung everything I'd
been thinking of wearing.  He flipped through some hangers.

	"Here," he pulled my only other sportcoat out; a camel cashmere I'd
gotten at a second hand shop.  "wear this, and where is that green crew
neck you have?  I like that color on you."

	I took off my blazer and he grabbed another tie.  I put it on along
with the sweater that I got from a dresser drawer.  I topped it off with
the sportcoat.  Cam stood back and eyed my appreciatively.

	"Much better."

	We left and headed into Detroit.  The D.S.O., I found out, was the
Detroit Symphony Orchestra.  We made our way to Symphony Hall; the show we
went to was for charity and we had a box all to ourselves.  I lived through
it, just.  It was some modern composer, no melody and lots of weird
humming.

	We didn't speak on our way to a little restaurant in Greek Town.
When we got there, Cam grabbed my hand and stopped me at the door.

	"So, what'd you think."  He said softly.

	"Great, it was just great."

	He looked at me, smiled and tilted his head.  I gave up and grinned
back.

	"It really sucked Cam."

	"It did, didn't it."

	We both started to laugh.  Then Cam leaned over and whispered in my
ear.

	"I'll have to think of something to make it up to you."

	"I have a list."  I shot back.

	We laughed again, and Cam led me into the restaurant.  Inside it
was dark and quiet; we found a little table tucked into a private corner.
Cam seemed to want to know everything about me and I had no will to refuse
him.  I told him about my home, family, how I'd felt when I first realized
I was gay.  I asked him questions too; but he shook his head.

	"Tonight is for your story.  There will be others to tell you
mine."

	After a spectacular meal, full of things I'd never heard of, we
walked.  It had rained at some point, while we were eating; the streets
were wet, the air sharp with the aroma of lamb and wet car exhaust.

	We visited a place with a belly dancer and she embarrassed the shit
out of me, when she gave me a lap dance.  Cam laughed till tears rolled
down his face.  We ate baklava from an all night bakery and dripped honey
down our chins.  He shoved me into a dark alley and licked my face clean,
then smiled and refused to let me return the favor.

	It was after 1 AM when we finally turned into my driveway.  We'd
spent 12 hours together.  It felt like 12 minutes.  I asked him up, but he
said no.  I was frustrated, and I let it show.

	"Let's take our time Mike."  He said gently, and stroked the side
of my face with his long fingers.  "Let me court you."

	"I'm a sure thing."  I responded bluntly and he laughed.

	"I guessed that."  He said dryly, "But I want to take our time
here.  We'll dance Mike, I promise you.  Just not yet."

	He gave me a light, closed mouth kiss that only made me ache for
more.  I grumbled, which made him laugh again.

	"When do you work again?"  He asked.

	"Tomorrow morning and Wednesday evening."

	"Hmmm, I have a deposition tomorrow in Jackson; it'll probably take
all day."

	He noticed the disappointment on my face.

	"But Wednesday, well...  I may have to work late that night."

	It was all the encouragement he was going to give me.  I got out of
the car and walked up the stairs to my apartment; then I watched until his
headlights faded into the darkness.  Once again, my hand reached down to my
cock.

	I made it through Monday and Tuesday and eventually, Wednesday
arrived.  Cam, good to his word, worked late.  He stopped by and casually
asked me if I wanted to grab a sandwich.  Of course I did.  We went to
Zimmerman's and ate corned beef.  Again, I found myself frustrated when, he
finished and said goodbye without once touching me.

	Thursday was better.  We caught a flick at the local art house.  We
shared buttered popcorn, and he held my hand in the dark.  His leg pressed
against mine and his breath was warm on my cheek, when he'd whisper an
aside about the lousy directing in the movie.  When we stood, he noticed
the lump in my crotch and it delighted him.  But, once again, he let me go
home by myself.

	Friday he called and asked me if I'd made any plans for Sunday.
When I said no, he told me he was getting ready to put up his boat for the
winter but wanted one more sail, if the weather permitted.  I had never
been on any of the big lakes, I told him.

	"It's fun, you'll like it."  He assured me.

	We talked for a few more minutes, then he had to go.  I looked
around my apartment.  Sunday seemed a long way off; and I had nothing
planned between then and now.

	Except for the Tuesday poker game; I hadn't spoken to any of my
friends all week, not even Joe.  Now he and the rest of the team were in
Urbana for a game against the Illini.  They wouldn't get home until Sunday
morning, at the earliest.

	Another group of friends, including Kevin and Saul, had gone down
to West Virginia to do some rafting on the Gaulley River's big fall water
releases.  I'd gone the year before, and had been planning to repeat, but
I'd canceled at the last minute, sure that Cam and I would be spending the
weekend together.

	It wasn't that I usually minded being alone.  I liked downtime.
But I was disappointed that my fantasies about Cam were not going to
happen, and it made being by myself seem almost unbearable.  I tried to
study, then I tried to read, finally I flopped down in front of the boob
tube with a 40 ouncer of beer and had myself a pity party.

	I woke up in exactly the same spot, early the next morning.  I was
disgusted with myself.  I was acting like some love sick idiot.  The
problem was, I told myself, I'd been spoiled.  In almost all my other
relationships I had called the shots.  It was, I was finding out fast, not
as much fun to be on the receiving end.  But I was determined to stop
acting like some silly adolescent.

	I got up and fixed myself a big breakfast.  Then I showered,
shaved, and got ready to tell Cam that I was through being his plaything.
Relationships are give and take; it was his turn to do some giving.

	There was a knock at my door while I was still in the bathroom
dressing.  I thought it was probably Lucy.  She'd gotten in the habit of
dropping by every so often for tea and sarcasm.  I'd left the door unlocked
when I'd gone out to get my paper, so I just yelled for her to come in.

	I zipped my jeans, threw my shirt over one shoulder and walked out
of the john expecting to see her, but she wasn't there.  Instead, I could
see a tall shape through the old glass in the door's window.  I went over
and jerked it open.  I froze.

	Cam stood there in a skimpy pair of running shorts and a torn
sweatshirt with cut sleeves.  On his feet, were the rattiest pair of
running shoes I'd ever seen.  His socks and legs were splashed with mud,
sweat had pooled at base of his neck and chest and turned the red shirt
black.  He looked wonderful.

	"Hi."

	"What are you doing here?"

	"This."

	He grabbed me by the shoulders and swung me around until my back
hit the wall.  His mouth came down on mine hard, and I gasped, giving his
tongue the opening it needed.  Dimly, I heard the door slam as his foot
kicked it shut.  Then he moved in closer with his body until every inch of
our fronts were touching.

	I couldn't breath.  I didn't care.  My arms went around him and
gripped with all the pent up lust I had stored up in that frustrating week.
He pushed his cock into mine and they both stood up to make the other's
acquaintance.  We ground into each other, mixing pain with unbelievable
pleasure.  Abruptly, he raised his head and gasped in air.

	"Christ, that was worth the wait!"  He said between gasps.

	I said nothing.  I was too busy, trying to taste every inch of skin
on his neck.  He obliged me by tilting his head, but he continued to talk.

	"I was running, trying to get you out of my head and then I
suddenly thought; why the Hell am I postponing the inevitable.  I want you
Mike.  Right now."

	I didn't have to be told twice.  I knelt in front of him and
grabbed the waistband of his pants.  They were tight, and I struggled until
it finally sunk into my sex crazed brain that they had a drawstring.  I
pulled it and they slid down with a push.  The jockstrap he wore followed
easily.  Then I had a good look.

	It was huge.  Okay, before we get carried away here, I don't mean
John Holmes huge, Cam was a lawyer, not a porn king.  But it was the
biggest I'd ever seen.  I was no slouch in the size department either,
being in proportion, so to speak, with the rest of my body, but Cam had me
beat both in width and length.

	I'd never been a size queen.  It's not the tool, it's what you do
with it, had always been my motto, but now I found myself fascinated.  I
smelled his crotch; the odor was sharp and slightly sour with the smell of
sweat.  My mouth watered in anticipation.  I had no idea how I was ever
going to fit that monster between my lips, but I was determined to make it
happen.

	I placed my hands on his tensed thighs and studied the problem.
Tentatively, I stuck out my tongue and licked up a stream of his nectar.
It was not the best I'd ever tasted; but it would do.  His cock flexed at
my touch; a long string of the viscous precum followed me, when I sat back.
I slurped it in like a string of spaghetti and found my lips were touching
his head when I was through.  Since I was already there, I opened my mouth
and invited him in.

	"Oh God."  Cam whispered.

	He moaned, and I forced my mouth open wider and shoved another
couple inches in, right up to my gag reflex.  I took a deep breath and
looked up at Cam's face.  His eyes were closed and his mouth was open as he
gasped for air.

	My tongue traced the big vein that ran down the side of his shaft.
His head banged against the wall and he started to rock it back and forth,
back and forth, as his balls began to rise up to the base of his shaft.  He
was whimpering now; far along on a journey that could end in only one way.

	My own cock was stone, but I couldn't be bothered with it.  I was
only concerned about the man in front of me; his pleasure was mine.  I took
another breath and bore down on the tool that already filled my mouth to
capacity.  Then I swallowed.  And swallowed again.

	Cam exploded.  A wave of cum crashed into my mouth; I thought I'd
drown in it.  His hips bucked and his cock jammed deeper into my throat.  I
struggled to breath and finally had to back off.  Jizz spilled out of my
mouth and down his twitching pole. Without warning, my own orgasm hit.  I
convulsed once, twice; my knees gave out, and I collapsed.

	I was in his arms.  He was kneeling, pulling me to him.  He cradled
me gently, murmuring into my ear hypnotically.  I tried to speak, but the
words wouldn't come.  Cam stroked me soothingly.

	"Mike, buddy.  Are you still with me here?"

	I tried to speak again, this time with more success.

 	"Did I just die?  I mean, when do I have to go towards the light?"

	"I think we both just did that, Mike."

	Cam laughed and massaged my back and talked nonsense that I didn't
try to understand except, for the tone, which was warm and soothing.  We
lay there for a long time until finally, my breathing grew normal.
Eventually, I was able to command my body to make simple movements and I
raised my head to look at him.

	"Do you think you can get up now?"  He asked me.

	I nodded yes and we proceeded to untangle ourselves from each
other.  Cam made it to his feet first.  He was still wearing the sweatshirt
and his shoes and socks.  I grinned at his new look.  His cock hung soft
and harmless below the hem of the shirt, and bore no resemblance to the
monster I'd just taken in my mouth.

	I looked up at Cam's face smiling down at me.  He held his hand out
and I took it, pushing myself up with his help.  He pulled me to him and
hugged me; then stepped back still holding me and looked down.

	"Looks like you need another shower."  He said softly.

	I dropped my head and saw the big wet patch on my jeans where my
cum had soaked through.  I flushed.

	"You have no idea how sexy it is to me, that you came just from
blowing me."  He assured me.

	His hand reached down and caressed my damp jeans.  As I watched, he
took that same hand and moved it to his mouth, sucking the moisture he
found there.

	"Mmmm, finger licking good."  He looked at me and wiggled his
eyebrows.

	For some reason, we both found this hysterically funny.  We laughed
until we were both out of breath, then we proceeded to strip each other and
headed for the bathroom.

	Cam groaned at the small tin shower, but we both managed to squeeze
into it.  He saw the target on the wall and grinned.

	"Shit," he said shaking his head, "I'd almost forgotten how it
feels to be as young as you are."

	I wasn't sure if that was envy or a put down, but I decided to go
with the first.

	"I guess it must be a bitch, to be an old man like you."  I
countered.

	"Old man, huh?"  He rubbed his filling cock up against me.  "We'll
just have to see about that."

	He kissed me, but then he insisted we stop and clean ourselves up
before we got down to anything more serious again.  He took a great deal of
time soaping me up, and was insistent on washing every cranny even making
me spread my legs while he knelt and slid his fingers through my crack.

	I shivered and slid my feet apart further, but when he suddenly
pushed a finger up my hole, I involuntarily tensed.  He read my reaction.

	"Not used to that I see."  He said withdrawing his hand from my
ass.

	"Uh, no, not really."

	That wasn't quite true, but it wasn't far off.  I still had never
taken up cock up my ass, and the longer I'd waited the more nervous I'd
become about doing the deed.  But something told me the day of reckoning
was almost upon me.  At least, it was if I planned on having any future
with Cam.

	The finger play had just enforced my suspicion that my days as a
virgin were probably numbered, and I be lying if I said that didn't freak
me out a little.  Cam stood up and pulled me around to hug me.

	"That's okay," he whispered, "that's a problem that's easily
rectified, and a lot of fun fixing."

	"Maybe later," I said noncommittally, "but now I get to explore
you."

	I washed him as thoroughly as he had done me.  The only difference
was, when it came my time to check out his pucker, he shook his head.

	"Sorry," he said as he gently led my hand away from the promised
land.  That's an outie not an innie."

	I looked at him surprised.

	"You mean you're strictly a top?"

	"Yes, is that a problem?"

	I didn't know what to say.  I mean, that was usually my line.  I
was pretty sure I was okay with being fucked occasionally.  At least, I
thought I would be, once I actually got the courage to try it the first
time.  But the idea of being Cam's bottom boy was something else again.

	I'd always liked putting my cock in some guy's tight hole.  Liked
it a lot.  In fact, it was my favorite thing in the whole wide world.

	"So what's the verdict?"  He pressed.

	"I don't know."  I said honestly.  "This is not an issue I've ever
faced before."

	"You mean you're a top too?"  He watched me nod solemnly, then
grinned.  "Well shit.  It appears we do have a dilemma then don't we?"

	We might have stood there forever, if the hot water hadn't taken
that moment to give out.  Both of us yelped and scrambled to get out
without slipping and falling on our twin virgin asses.

	We swore and laughed and shivered as we grabbed towels and tried to
dry each other off.  Cam suddenly stopped, grabbed both ends of his towel,
looped it around my neck and pulled me into him.

	"Well for today, stud, let's agree to a Mexican standoff, and let
me repay you for that blowjob that almost ended my life."

	He led me out of the bathroom and pulled me all the way to the bed,
where he pushed me down and literally gobbled me up.  I moaned in surprise
and lust and threw a boner that would have put his eye out, if he hadn't
already had my rod halfway down his throat.

	For the next thirty minutes, he took me to the gates of Heaven and
then refused to let me in.  I begged, I pleaded but Cam would not be
deterred from his obvious goal of turning me into mindless idiot, who could
deny him nothing.

	I barely even processed the fact that he had a finger up my ass,
until he found my magic button and made me see stars.  By then, I'd lost
the power of speech and could only cry out as finally, finally he let me
slip over the edge and shoot my load into his hungry mouth.

	It was minutes before I returned to some semblance of rational
thought.  Even longer, until I regained the ability to form those thoughts
into words.  It didn't help that Cam had raised himself up to kiss me and
share the remains of my load.  It wasn't until I felt him slip his finger
out of my ass, that I really thought about how he'd manipulated me, both
literally and figuratively.

	"You don't play fair," I murmured, too satisfied to pretend I
cared.

	"Hey, I'm a lawyer, we're supposed to use dirty tricks to get what
we want."

	"Hmmmm."

	I wasn't being exactly honest myself.  I'd had other hands explore
my back door before and I'd enjoyed it well enough.  Now, I continued the
deception, because I had the idea that Cam liked the idea that he was
exploring completely uncharted territory.

	Also, I had a feeling that if I gave in too easily, I was going to
find myself, all too soon, flat on my back with my legs over his shoulders
and his cock up my ass.  And I still wasn't sure that was a position I was
prepared for, yet.

	We snuggled, then dozed, then woke and explored each others bodies
until they held no secrets.  Well almost none, Cam still wasn't letting me
anywhere near his tunnel, though he seemed to like the rest of the
attention I paid to his ass.

	Inevitably, we ended up in a sixty nine.  Cam left my butt alone
while he brought me to another shattering climax.  When it was his turn, he
shot cautiously, this time letting me control the depths his cock reached.

	After we'd recovered he stood and dressed.  He had a date for
handball at 4 with one of the partners, and a dinner at a client's house
after that.  I forced myself to get out of bed, and walked him to the door.
He kissed me and said he'd pick me up the next day at 9.  Then he was gone.

	I thought about taking another shower, doing laundry or cracking
the books for a test I had the following week.  I crawled back into bed and
took a nap.

	When I woke, it was dark.  I looked at the clock, 6:30.  I
swallowed cautiously, but Cam's monster apparently hadn't done any
permanent damage.  My stomach growled.  I realized, that except for the
bacon and eggs I'd made that morning, I'd had nothing to eat all day.  I
mentally reviewed the contents of my refrigerator.  Unless I wanted to
repeat that meal or call in for a pizza, I'd have to go out for a bite.

	I took one more shower and got dressed.  I headed to a nearby
Mexican place, and stuffed my face with chili rellanos and enchiladas in
Verde sauce.  I finished my second Carta Blanca and paid the tab and left.
But I wasn't ready to go home.  I decided to take a walk.

	Up until that time I had managed to avoid thinking about Cam.  It
wasn't that I wasn't happy with our surprise nooner.  God no, it had been
wonderful, almost too good.  Which really was the crux of the problem.  Joe
was right, I was a goner.  Head over heels, stars in your eyes, over the
top in love.  It scared the shit out of me.

	I knew this was going to be a totally different type of
relationship.  Cam was older, more mature and definitely used to taking the
lead.  Expected it even.  Keeping him happy, would mean letting him call
most of the shots.  That was not going to be easy for me.  But I wanted
him, and that overrode any misgivings I had about his need to take the
lead.  At least, I rationalized, for a while anyway.

	I finally got back to my place at about 1 AM.  I still wasn't
sleepy, but then, I had taken a four hour nap.  I was restless and prowled
my one room home like a tiger in a cage.

	I needed to talk to somebody.  I wished that every damn friend I
had, hadn't decided to pick this weekend to be out of town.  I wanted to
tell somebody, anybody, that I may have found the one.  Even Lucy was gone.
She'd left that afternoon with Richard who'd talked her into accompanying
him to a seminar back east.

	The phone rang.  I went over to my nightstand and reached for it
wondering who'd be calling so late.  Even though I'd just gotten done
wishing for human contact, a phone ringing this late made me nervous.

	I come from a family that firmly believes any call that comes in
after eleven o'clock, has to be bad news.  As I picked up the receiver, I
was mentally reviewing the health of all of my relatives.

	"Hello?"  I said cautiously.

	"You've been gone.  I've been trying all night to get you."

	 A deep voice growled quietly in my ear.  My heart still raced, but
now it wasn't from fear.

	"Cam?"

	"Hi baby."

	"Hi yourself."

	I plopped down on my bed, leaned back and crossed one leg lazily
over the other.  I wanted to get comfortable because I was hoping this was
going to be a long, long conversation.

	"How come you don't have an answering machine?"

	"Hell Cam," I laughed softly, "I'm a poverty stricken college
student.  I'm lucky I have a phone."

	"So where were you?  I've been trying since 9 to get hold of you."

	"I went out for a bite and then walked.  I was lonely."

	I winced as I blurted that last sentence out.  Shit, the last thing
I wanted to do was make myself sound so pathetic.

	"So was I; that's why I called."

	My heart did a odd two step in my chest at his words.  So Cam had
been thinking about me too.  When I didn't respond, still too absorbed in
this latest revelation, he continued.

	"Too bad I couldn't have gotten hold of you earlier Mike; we could
have been lonely together."

	"I don't think lonely is ever how I'd feel, if I was with you."

	"Jesus, you do have a sweet tongue on you."

	He changed the subject abruptly.

	"What are you wearing?"

	"Clothes."  I grinned and slid my hand under and up my shirt and
stroked my abs.

	"You're not ready for bed yet?"

	"I just got home.  I was about to strip when you called."

	"Do it now, Mike."  His voice had taken on purring quality.  "Get
naked, and tell me how it feels."

	Jesus Christ!  The guy was making my balls melt and I hadn't even
touched myself yet.  But I took too long to answer.  Cam mistook my lust
induced silence for reluctance.

	"A little too much for you big guy?"  He chuckled.  "That's okay, I
like the idea of expanding your horizons."

	I shut my mouth and didn't make the protest I'd been ready to
utter.  If Cam wanted to play teacher, then who was I to argue, especially
when the lessons were going to be so much fun.

	"You know what I was thinking about tonight?"

	This time, he didn't wait for my answer.

	"I was thinking about you in those jeans this morning.  I was
seeing you open your front door in those tight pants; how the zipper was
only half closed.  Your hair was still wet from your shower, little drops
spilled down on your shoulders and dripped down your chest.  I remembered
that little treasure trail of yours was all shiny and damp and how I
couldn't keep my eyes off it, because I knew where it was leading to, under
those tight jeans.  And then, I thought about later; how wet they got,
those jeans of yours.  Wet through, soaked with your cum."

	He laughed softly.  I was so turned on I could barely breath.

	"There I was, right in the middle of some boring client dinner,
listening to some bullshit about personal computers being the wave of the
future; and all I could think of was those damn jeans."

	"Oh shit," I moaned, "swear to God, I'll put them back on right
now, if you promise to come over and take them off me again."

	"Sorry baby," he laughed again, "tempting as that offer is, it's
late, and I want you to get a good night's sleep.  You've got a busy day
ahead of you tomorrow."

	"God, you are a heartless bastard!"  I half snarled into the phone.

	"Yeah, I am, but isn't that one of the things that turns you on?"

	Before I could deny it, I heard the click of his phone as he hung
it up.

	It took me a long time to fall asleep.  I set the alarm for 8 AM
but it didn't register in my conscious brain until a quarter to 9.  I shot
out of bed.  I managed to shower, shave and dress in 11 minutes.

	Cam was right on time.  We were dressed alike again: this time the
uniform of the day was jeans and sweatshirts, and it was okay, because what
else were you going to wear on a boat.  We broke up the hour and half trip
with a breakfast stop at Denny's, where we each got the Grand Slam and
split an extra order of pancakes.

	On the road again, he told me about his boat, the Jenny Elise,
named after his ex-wife and daughter.  It was a cigarette boat purchased,
he laughed, when he was going through a Miami Vice phase.  He moored it in
a little town in Michigan's thumb and he took it out onto Lake Huron every
chance he got as long as the weather cooperated.  After today it would be
pulled and dry docked for the winter.

	We reached the harbor about eleven.  He pulled into a reserved
parking space and motioned for me to follow him.  He stopped and talked to
a couple of workmen, and I watched him work his magic on them, as he had so
many at Croft.  Then we made our way down the pier until we came to a
silver and white beauty that made me feel a lot happier than the symphony
had the week before.

	Cam was a skilled captain.  He explained quietly and efficiently
how we were going to set sail and what he expected my part would be in the
process.  We accomplished it all with a minimum of fuss, and soon we were
out of the no wake zone and heading for open water.

	I'd put in some time in speedboats before; had even learned to sail
a little at camp.  But the small lakes of Pennsylvania had never prepared
me for the feel of the Great Lakes of the northern Midwest.

	The chop was small today, Cam told me, but I had no reference to
measure it by.  It felt huge to me, the swells ground beneath my feet and I
staggered as I tried to find my sea legs.

	It was warm for October; the sun beat down on us from a cloudless
sky.  But the water was already cooling preparing for winter, and I was
glad the windbreaker I'd brought was lined.

	We headed north for about an hour, then Cam turned towards shore
looking for something.  He found it a few minutes later.  A small cove,
deserted but relatively sheltered.  It was state land he told me, part of
Michigan's huge park preserves.  It was forbidden to put down a permanent
mooring, but nobody minded if you dropped anchor for the day or even a
week.

	We secured the boat.  Cam went downstairs and got the picnic he'd
had made up for us at a local cafe.  We stuffed ourselves on ham
sandwiches, cole slaw and pickles.  Then we packed everything back up,
grabbed a couple more beers and sat down across from each other, relaxing
in the rays of the warm autumn sun.

	Cam slipped off his docksider, and put his bare foot on my thigh.
He stoked up and down on the worn smooth material of my jeans.  I leaned
back and rested my head on the chair cushion and closed my eyes.

	His foot moved lazily to the inside of my leg, and I widened my
knees to give him more room.  He slid his foot further up until it rested
lightly on my zipper.

	"Are you ready for a some football."

	He sang the ditty softly; I laughed until his long toes found my
cock where it lay under the material.  My laugh changed to a gasp, as he
captured it and squeezed lightly.  He let go, only to slid his heel up to
rub the length of my rod.  Then his foot slid back down and repeated the
whole business again.

	I don't know how long we stayed that way.  I only know that when he
finally let go and brought his foot down to the floor, I was so swollen I
thought I'd have permanent marks on my cock from my jeans zipper.

	"Come on," Cam said in a husky voice, "let's go down below while we
can both still walk."

	I wasn't at all sure I hadn't already passed that point, but I
managed to stand and followed him through the cabin door.  I'd just barely
glanced below decks before we'd gotten underway.  I looked around curiously
now.

	There was one main salon that took up about half the available
floor space.  It held the galley and a combination living eating area.
Behind it was a tiny head and behind that were the two staterooms that took
up the remaining space.  One was so small it only held a narrow captain's
bed with a trundle tucked under it.  If the cot was pulled out, I realized,
there would be no floor space left in the room at all.  Built in cupboards
over the bed were the only storage.

	"For the kid's."  Was Cam's only comment.

	The other room was larger, but not by much.  It was empty except
for built in drawers and closets along one wall.  I looked at Cam
questioningly.

	"Watch this."

	He leaned into the room and hit a switch, there was a hum, and then
the wall opposite us broke free and lowered slowly to the floor.  It was a
king sized bed and it fit in that room like wall to wall carpet.  At it's
head was a double shelf unit.  I swallowed when I realized what was on
those shelves.  Cam ignored my expression.

	"I had it specially made.  The standard bed was too small for me to
be comfortable in."

	I just nodded.  Cam laughed softly, and nodded towards the
collection of lubes and the butt plug that lay on it's side by the reading
lamp.  He pulled me to him and spoke softly.

	"Don't worry Mike, this will be the time of your life."

	"What happened to our Mexican standoff?"

	He laughed softly.

	"Didn't I mention that was a one day deal."

	"Yeah, but..."

	Cam kissed me hard and slipped his hands around my back and slid
them under my shirt.  Automatically, I raised my arms and he broke off the
kiss only long enough to guide the material up and off.  We didn't stop
until we both broke away gasping for air.

	Then he stripped his own shirt and undid his jeans.  His cock
sprang out as far as it could, only stopping because it was trapped in the
stretched confines of his red briefs.  It throbbed, I could swear I could
feel its heat and power even though I wasn't touching it.

	He reached for my jeans and snapped them open.  He slowly slid the
zipper down and I whimpered and leaned back against the wall, overwhelmed
by the relief I felt at finally escaping my confinement.

	"Kick off your shoes."  Cam whispered.

	I obeyed and he knelt on the floor before me.  He slid my pants and
boxers down in one motion and left them in pile around my ankles.  Then his
head came forward and he licked the head of my cock.

	"Oh God, that feels great."  I murmured.

	He teased me, always promising but never quite taking my tool into
his mouth.  Instead, he blew hot puffs of air on my tender skin and swirled
his tongue around my knob while he kept his lips wide and away from the
shaft.  As my knees started to buckle, he stood and pushed me gently back
on the bed where I fell, my legs still trapped by the pants around my
ankles.  I swore and called him a bastard.

	I was starting to get a little pissed.  It was one thing to go
along with his daddy act on the phone, or out to dinner.  But the game was
turning serious, and I realized that the penalties might out weigh the
scores.

	"Don't think I'm a pushover."  I warned him.  "Maybe you should
worry about your own ass a little."

	"So," he whispered, "is this going to be a contest?"  He was
amused, but serious and it showed in his voice.

	"What's the game?"

	"Whoever cums first loses."

	"And the prize is?"

	Cam grinned lazily before he spoke.

	"Everything."

	My head shot up, and I looked at him for a long moment.
Wordlessly, we both considered the stakes.  As I'd already realized, Cam's
and my affair was not going to be an naturally, equal partnership.  He was
an alpha dog, a natural leader, he would not give in easily to any demand
that he be treated otherwise.

	I had never had that kind of competitive spirit.  But at the same
time, I had no intention of always playing follow the leader.  Maybe this
game was a way of letting him know this.  If I won, I'd win a Hell of a
prize, but more importantly, I'd gain some control.  If I lost, well, I'd
already figured out that it was inevitable that someday Cam was going to
fuck me, and I was just as sure that I was going to let him.

	He cocked an eyebrow and waited for his answer.  I slowly nodded
and he smiled.

	He finished undressing as I kicked off my jeans and socks and
scooted back onto the mattress.  I lay there, watching him come to me
across that big bed, my heart pounding, my cock steel, my belly tied in
knots of anticipation.  And then he touched me.

	I can't describe the next half hour.  Between the two of us, I
think we used every trick we could think of to make the other go over the
edge first, while trying to prevent the same from happening to our own
bodies.  There were hard kisses and sharp bites from both of us; neither of
us came out of that bed unmarked.

	The arena may have been small, but the stakes were huge and for a
long time it seemed that neither of us would capitulate.  But bodies can
only take so much; ours tightened and swelled, an explosion was inevitable.
The game was almost over; but to cross the goal line first was no victory.
Control was the prize.  Gratification, while a relief, would not matter in
the long run.

	I lost of course.  I lay there panting, a pool of cum congealing on
my belly, every muscle in my body exhausted, all my defenses broken.  Cam
knelt above me.  His cock so dark and hard with blood, it looked like a
medieval weapon.

	"Oh baby," he whispered, "you are so beautiful."

	Cam reached and softly stroked my hair.  He would be generous in
his success.  But there was no doubt in my mind that he'd wouldn't take
what he'd won.

	Now that he knew he was going to get my ass, Cam was in no hurry.
He left the room and returned with a damp towel and tenderly washed away
the evidence of my defeat.  Then he lay down beside me and started a new
game.

	He kissed me softly, teasing my mouth open, gently stealing my
breath.  He stroked my back and murmured low words of encouragement.  He
knew all the moves, and he used every one of them.

	He pushed my arms high about my head and held them there while his
mouth drove me crazy.  He nuzzled my armpits and fucked them with his
tongue, first one then the other, over and over again till I rolled my hips
in an agony of pleasure.  He sank lower.

	He never touched my cock.  I pleaded for his mouth and I bargained
for relief, but he just laughed and kept on slowly driving me insane.

	He told me to roll over on my stomach, then helped me accomplish
that goal with a gentle grip.  He stretched out on top of me, giving me a
taste of what was to come by sliding his cock up and down my crack, marking
his territory.  He slid down and spread my ass with both hands and lowered
his face.

	I felt myself open up both mentally and physically.  It was a
shock.  I'd never realized how complicated it was for a man to give himself
away like I was doing.  And maybe for some it isn't.  But I know now for
me, the act of penetration, of being fucked, is the most difficult act of
submission I will ever willingly undergo.

	I'd like to think of myself as an intuitive lover.  But until that
day with Cam, the real issue of giving my ass, had escaped me.

	In my defense, I'd never been with a virgin.  My first few times,
were with a college guy back home for the summer, who was looking for
someone to fill in for his absent boyfriend.  He gave me his butt and a
taste for more mature lovers.  So for a long time, I avoided encounters
with boys my own age and less experience.  It wasn't until college, that I
started dating my peers, and they'd already fumbled through most of the
basics of gay sex.  Even Bobby the Baptist, had been experienced.  A gift
from a friend's older brother, was how he'd described it.

	In any case, the men I had taken had already faced whatever
epiphany's submitting to another man's cock had created for them.  And they
didn't discuss their views on that subject with me.  In my ignorance, the
only thing I'd thought about was the possibility of pain.  Now I was
learning different.

	"How's that?"

	Cam asked as he slipped another finger into my hole.  I moaned and
lifted my hips for better access.  His tongue slurped at my crack, keeping
it moist and slippery.  Then he raised his head and spoke.

	"Do you like that Baby?  Are my fingers filling you up?"

	He twisted his hand and stretched the digits inside of me, stroking
my prostrate.  I gasped and threw back my head.

	"Christ!"

	"You love it, don't you."  He chuckled softly in my ear.  "Tell me
the truth or I'll stop."

	He stilled his hand as a warning.

	"Don't stop."  I couldn't believe he'd even suggested that.  "Yes I
love it, oh God, I love it."

	His fingers started to work their magic again and I practically
purred in relief.

	"It can get even better."

	Keeping his hand firmly in place, he moved his body until his head
rested on my shoulder.  He licked my ear, then bit down gently and pulled
back, dragging his teeth over the fleshy lob.

	"You want it to get better don't you?"

	I moaned in response to his words, and the thrust of his fingers
that he'd timed to accompany them.

	"Tell me you want it to get better, Mike."

	"Please..."  Was all I managed to get out.

	"Not good enough, Mike.  Not nearly, good enough."

	I knew that.  I knew he'd only be satisfied if I begged him for
what I, by then, needed so desperately.  A tiny piece of resistance left
over in a corner of my mind screamed no, tell him no, wait until it's what
you really want; with the man you really need.  But even as the thought
formed it faded; overwhelmed by the desire in my ass.

	"Fuck me," I whispered hoarsely, "stick your cock in me.  Do it
now, I need it."

	He withdrew his fingers and I moaned at the loss.  I rolled on my
side and watched as he broke open a condom packet and rolled the latex over
his shaft.  He grabbed a tube of lube and applied it to his cock.

	"Get on your hands and knees."  He whispered.

	I did it.  I would have done anything he asked right then, as long
as it meant getting that rod of his in my ass.  He placed a pillow under my
chest.  Then he squeezed a huge globe of lube on my crack.  I shivered, but
it was more in anticipation, then from the cold of the gel.  He worked it
into my pucker and I pushed back trying to fill myself up with his fingers
again.  Anything to fill the void.

	"Your ass is greedy Mike."  Cam laughed.

	"Just hurry."  I said and he laughed again.

	"For a boy who said no yesterday, you certainly changed your mind."

	"Jesus Christ, Cam!"  I was in no mood for small talk.

	"Patience baby.  I don't want to rush this, and whether you know it
or not, you won't either."

	He got on his knees behind me and positioned his cock at my
entrance.  My arms trembled and my back arched from the light contact.  Cam
grabbed my hips and held me tightly.

	"Here's to expanding your horizons, Mike."

	He pushed hard and my eyes flew open wide.  Oh shit, it burned.  My
body automatically tried to escape the pain, but Cam had a good grip, he'd
known what would happen.

	"Hurts," I managed to grunt out.

	"Shh baby, I know, just relax and push out."

	I didn't know if I could.  I wasn't sure I wanted to.  Cam kept
pressing in though and suddenly, with a pop, his knob was in my ass.

	"Oh shit!"  Sweat beaded up on my brow and I thrashed, trying to
escape the hot poker embedded in me.

	"It's okay baby.  It's okay.  We'll just stay this way for a while,
until you're used to it."

	I wanted to say I didn't think there was that much time left in my
life, but I couldn't speak.  The pain in my ass took up too much of my
concentration to allow me to form any words.

	In retrospect, I guess it was only a few minutes that we stayed in
that position.  At the time however, it seemed like an hour.  Cam spoke
soothingly and used his hands to stroke my hips and back.  Gradually, my
muscles gave up their death grip on his cock until finally, I took a shaky
breath of relief.

	I'm going to move now."  Cam said and I nodded.

	Regardless of the pain, I was committed.  I wanted him to continue
and finish what he'd started.  I figured I'd come this far and, I was
pretty sure anyway, that he wouldn't stop no matter how I felt about it.
But my sexual high was gone.  My cock had shriveled and hung limply above
my balls.  I would go through with this; but I no longer expected any
pleasure.

	Cam moved a millimeter forward and a cramp seized me.  He was so
fucking big.  Jesus Mike, I told myself, leave it to you to pick a guy with
a dick of death to break your cherry.  He backed up a little and the cramp
subsided.  Then he moved forward again.

	Over and over he repeated this move until both of us were wet with
sweat and our breath came out in short hard gasps.  Finally, I felt his
balls hit mine and it was done.  Cam had taken my virginity.

	He waited again, letting me get used to the feeling.  I felt hot
and sore and stuffed.  Now that he was there, I was almost afraid to let
him leave.  I couldn't go through the pain of that journey again.  But
there was no way he could stay in that position forever.

	Slowly, he withdrew his hips.  The relief was enormous; I moaned as
my stretched gut relaxed.  Then he reversed his direction and I moaned
again.  It wasn't as bad as that first entry, but it was still too much and
my body involuntarily struggled to get out from under him.  Cam's fingers
left marks in my skin where he dug in to keep me in place.  Now, he didn't
give me time to adjust, but reversed direction as soon as he hit bottom.

	"Fuck!"  I said as if either of us had to be reminded of what we
were doing.

	On the fifth stroke my arms gave out.  I collapsed on the pillow
Cam had placed under me.  My muscles had finally given up the fight; only
my hands showed the strain as they gripped the sheets and twisted them
tight until my knuckles turned white.  Cam just pulled my hips higher and
plowed on.

	But something was different.  The position had changed; his cock
was hitting my button, sliding over it, every, single, time he moved.  A
shiver ran up my spine, and my own flaccid tool jerked and came out of the
coma it had succumbed to at the initial shock of penetration.

	"Oh fuck."  I said again.

	Now my voice held something other than pain.  It was still there,
but pleasure was taking over, dulling the ache, making it seem unimportant
in comparison to the thrills my prostrate was producing.

	Cam heard the difference.  He laughed as he jabbed again, harder
now, pushing me forward and driving my shoulders deeper into the bed.  His
cock pressed down on my spot.

	"Fuck."  I gasped and my eyes started to glaze as I lost all
awareness of anything, but the pleasure in my ass.

	"I knew you'd love it Mike." Cam gasped as he punched into me
harder.  "You love it don't you?  It's what you need isn't it?"

	"Oh God..."

	"Tell me Mike, the truth now, you love it don't you baby."

	He was right.  I did love it.  All of it.  Even the pain seemed
good now.  I started to slam back into Cam, asking for more.

	"Jesus, yes...  So good, oh God Cam... Fuck me!"

	By now my cock was throbbing.  I couldn't get to it with my
shoulders and arms pinned and Cam was leaning on me, making it impossible
for me to move.  I moved frantically, trying to find some way to give me
the friction I craved.  Cam realized my distress.  His hand reached for me,
once more asserting his control.

	"Shit, yes!"  I shouted at his touch.

	He grabbed my cock and slid his sweaty palm over it.  Once, twice
and on the third stroke, I let go.  My mouth dropped open as a groan
escaped it.  I dumped my load into his hand, as my ass quivered wildly.

	Cam never broke his rhythm.  Still the victor, he kept up fucking
me for another endless 5 minutes.  I was helpless to do anything but take
it.  Then with the roar of a conqueror he tensed and spilled his seed into
the thin latex that separated us.

	As soon as he finished, he rolled off and lay limply beside me.  I
couldn't move as I watched him reach down and peel off the remains of his
passion.  His wet cock flopped harmlessly down on his bush.  He tied the
rubber into a miniature balloon and threw it out onto the floor, beyond the
stateroom.  Then he looked at me, and grinned.

	"Want a beer?"

	What I wanted, was to be held.

	"Sure, that's fine."

	Cam stood stiffly and growled.

	"Jesus Mike, nobody could ever say you're easy."

	He walked out of the room without looking back.  I curled on my
side and tried not to think about what had just happened.  At twenty-one, I
had just found out I wasn't John Wayne; the disappointment was acute.

	But, and I grinned a little at this, I had to admit the sex had
been great.  I stretched to the side of the bed and found the towel Cam had
used earlier.  It was cold but still wet and I wiped my chest and ass and
winced at the tenderness.

	Cam came back to the bed and stood looking at me.  I'd finished
with my clean up, and had gone back on my side.  I was shivering a little
because it was cold in that room.  A fact that had escaped me, in the heat
of sex.

	"Here hold these."

	He gave me the beers and disappeared again.  He returned in a
moment with a big down comforter that he snapped open, over me and the bed.
Then he crawled into our nest and took the bottle I offered him.  He drank
deeply and sighed.

	He placed the bottle on the shelf behind us and smiled at me.

	"Come over here."

	I scooted over and he took my untasted beer and sat it next to his.
He opened his arms and I crawled into them.  For the first time, I really
understood the need for contact that my previous partners had shown after
sex.

	It was the reassurance that too much has not been given away and
identities have not been lost in the heat of passion.  The line, 'Will you
respect me in the morning?", suddenly stopped being so funny and I had to
bite my tongue to keep myself from saying it out loud.  Cam didn't tell me
he loved me, but he didn't push me away either.  Maybe the latter would
come in time.

	We stayed in that bed until we were warm again.  Cam held me while
I drowsed, until a beep from his watch woke me up for good and he said we
needed to get going, if we didn't want to have to spend the night here.
Then he reached behind us and grabbed the butt plug.  My eyes widened, but
he just laughed and said he didn't want to leave it on the boat.  Then he
winked and whispered we might need it this winter.

	We barely made it back before dark.  We moored the Jenny Elise, and
Cam dropped the keys off at the harbor master's office.  Then we headed
quietly out to his car.  I winced when I sat down as stiff muscles reminded
me they'd had a workout.  Cam laughed softly, but he made no comment and I
noticed he got into his seat a little slowly too.

	Again we broke our trip with a meal.  This time at a little Italian
place Cam had discovered on a previous trip.  It was dark and romantic and
it cast a glow over us, that softened the less idyllic aspects of our
little adventure.  When we finally pulled into my driveway, I was
regretting the day was over.

	Cam walked me to my door and waited while I opened it, but he
refused to come in.  He had an early meeting in the morning and he wanted
to get a good night's sleep, something, he said with a wink, he doubted
would happen with me in his arms.  He kissed me, a soft full kiss that I
returned with an acceptance I wouldn't have been able to manage that
morning.

	"I'll call you tomorrow."  He whispered.

	I waited as he went down the stairs, and watched as his car lights
disappeared in the darkness.  Then I went through the open door and not
bothering with a light, shut and locked it.

	"Have a good time?"

	The voice was quiet but it hit me with the force of a bullet.  I
spun around and saw a figure, sitting in the dark, on my couch.

	"Jesus Christ, Joe," I yelled, "you scared the Hell out of me."

	"Too bad lover boy didn't stick around a little longer, he could
have protected you."

	My shoulders sagged, I didn't need this kind of shit from him right
now.  I threw my keys on a table and snapped on a light.

	"Yeah, Joe, real funny."  I sighed.  "What the Hell are you doing
here anyway."

	"That was quite a little show the two of you were putting on there.
Very romantic, I almost cried."

	I looked at him puzzled.  I was the sarcastic member of this team.
He only used it when he was angry.

	"What's wrong?"  I asked.

	"Forget it."

	He stood and walked towards the door.  I reached over to stop him,
but he flung his hands up and wouldn't let me touch him.  We stood and
stared at each other.

	"Okay, out with it."  I forced my voice to be calm.  "Tell me
what's wrong."

	"What makes you think anything's wrong?"  His voice matched mine in
tone, but his eyes were hot and furious.

	"Well gee, I come home in the middle of the night and find you
sitting all alone, in the dark."

	I was tired, and the events of the day were starting to catch up to
me.  I wanted to think about Cam, not deal with Joe in a snit.

	"So yeah," I continued, "I must be a fucking gypsy to figure out
something's wrong."

	I walked over to the couch and plopped down.  My body again
reminded me that it had just been tested to the max.  The memory of Cam and
me in that big bed rose up in my mind.  A flicker of it must have showed in
my face.  Joe took it all in.

	"Well a fucking something."  He muttered.

	"Get out."  I said softly.  "It's late and we're both tired and
you're obviously not willing to tell me what the fuck is bothering you.  So
just leave, before we both say things we don't mean and will eventually
regret."

	Perversely, now that I was trying to make him leave, he was no
longer willing to go.  We went back to our staring match.

	"I waited for you for hours," he finally said.

	I sighed and scrubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands.

	"Yeah well," I closed my eyes, I was so tired suddenly, I could
have fallen asleep right there, "I was gone for the day."

	"So I noticed."  His voice was grim.  "And last night too.  I
called until after 12."

	"I was busy, sorry.  I have a life you know."

	"Right," he snorted, "and now Cam controls it."

	"Okay that's it."  I was majorly pissed.  "I don't have to put up
with this bullshit from you.  You're absolutely right.  Cam and I are
spending a lot of time together.  That's what you do in the beginning of a
relationship.  Shit, Joe, of all people, you ought to be aware of that.
How many fucking girlfriends have you had since I've known you, five, six,
ten?"

	"But I never let a woman come between our friendship."

	"And I'm not going to let that happen with Cam either."  I
protested.

	"Shit, Mike, you already have."  He shook his head.  "I needed to
talk to you dude."

	"Well, here I am, talk to me."

	"Oh right, so you can nod your head and pretend to listen while you
think about getting back in the sack with your boyfriend.  Not an option."

	I stared at him opened mouthed.  In the three years I'd known Joe,
he'd never acted like this.  I could feel rage welling up in my chest.  I
stood to give it room to grow.

	"Listen to me and listen good."  I said through clenched jaws.
"This isn't a goddamn movie."

	"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?"

	"It means, dude," I spit the jock word out like it was poison, "I'm
not your side kick; I'm not the comic relief gay guy in the story of your
life.  I have my own life to live; and in it, I have the staring role.  If
you don't like that or can't accept it then I expect you to go away, and
stay away, until you can."

	"Fuck you Mike." He shot me a look of pure malice.  It took my
breath away.  "But then, I suppose that's already being taken care of."

	"Don't cross that line, Joe," I warned.

	I don't think he even heard me.

	"Jesus Christ, Mike what are you doing?  This guy, this Cam, you
don't know him, you don't know what he's done, who he's been with.  Oh
shit, if you knew what I knew; if you'd seen what I had..."

	My anger erupted.  I knew that Joe was increasingly involved in a
new AIDS research project.  But that didn't give him the right to tell me
how to live my life.  And it sure as Hell didn't make him my moral
superior.

	"You think I'm stupid Joe?  You think I live in lala land, totally
oblivious to everything that's going around me.  You sit in a fucking lab
and look at tissue samples and tell me I don't know reality."

	"That isn't all I do, I see patients who..."

	"Yeah, but have you actually ever seen a person die of AIDS, Joe?
Have you ever stood there and watched the sweet, funny kid who was your
best friend in the eighth grade die in the already wasted arms of his
lover.  Have you heard the screams of someone whose pain is so huge, there
isn't a drug on earth that could begin to touch it.  And when he goes
blind; all you can feel is relieved, because at least now, you can't see
the fear in his eyes."

	Joe looked at me stunned.  My anger left; all I felt was empty.

	"See Joe," I said softly, "I didn't tell you everything I did on my
summer vacation."

	"Oh God," his eyes had tears in them; but then so did mine, "I'm
sorry, so sorry."

	"Yeah," I said heavily, "so am I."

	I sat back on the couch and after a moments hesitation, Joe joined
me in his usual spot.

	"Want to tell me about it?"  He asked.

	"Yes, I do."  I nodded, realizing for the first time, that I
couldn't bottle it up anymore.  "But not tonight okay, I don't think I
could handle it tonight."

	"Whenever you're ready."

	I looked into his face and saw nothing there but concern.  Joe
wasn't a moralist, and he wasn't a bigot.  His anger earlier had stemmed
from his fear for my safety.  I hadn't been fair when I'd laid this guilt
trip on him.  I knew better than anybody how much he cared about the people
who had AIDS.  He'd bitched over and over about the lack of funding and the
lack of concern by Congress and the population at large.

	"Neither Cam nor I have a death wish, Joe."

	I watched him swallow hard as I said those words.

	"Shit, I don't know why I'm going to tell you this, cause it's
really none of your business, but we used protection.  We always will."

	"Good, good," he said softly, "I'm glad to hear it."

	He stood awkwardly and I followed him as he headed to the door.  As
he turned the knob, I thought of something.

	"Hey, you never did tell me why you wanted to talk to me."

	"Oh that' stupid really."  He frowned.  "Betsy's back in town and
she wants us to get together.  I just wanted to see what you thought."

	"Betsy?  Here in Ann Arbor?"

	"Her little brother, Ben, you remember me talking about him?  He's
in the hospital."  He sighed. "He's got it Mike; he's got AIDS."

	"Oh shit."

	No wonder Joe had freaked when he'd seen me with Cam.  I'd never
met Betsy's little brother, but I knew Joe had, and he'd always said he was
a great guy.

	"Look, it's been a tough day," he continued, "I'm sorry I took it
out on you.  I was being an asshole."

	"Don't worry about it.  I think it was your turn anyway."

	He grinned and then stepped forward and gave me a hug.  This wasn't
entirely a novel experience with us.  Joe was a touchy, feely kind of guy,
he was always throwing his arm around me or grabbing me by the shoulders to
lead me in some direction he wanted to go.  I reached around and gave him a
quick squeeze, but when I started to ease off, I felt his arms just grip me
tighter.  I looked at his face and saw an expression I couldn't read.

	"You smell like Paco Robanne," his voice was expressionless as he
dropped his arms.

	That was, I knew by now, the cologne that Cam wore.  No doubt I did
smell of it, after the days activities.

	"I think I need a shower," I grinned and stepped back.

	"Probably'd be a good idea," he muttered.

	We said our good-byes and I stripped and crawled into bed.  I did
need to shower, and to brush my teeth, but I was too beat to bother with
either.  I had so many thoughts and questions swirling around my head
though, I was worried that I'd stay awake, regardless of my physical
exhaustion.

	So Betsy was back.  Joe had told me once, she was the only girl
he'd ever regretted letting get away.  Maybe they'd end up together again,
and this time, maybe it would stick.  Whatever happened, I would be there
for Joe.

	I'd always liked Betsy; I hoped that now we could get to be better
friends.  I knew from my own experience, that what she was going through
with her brother would only get worse.  I made myself another promise; I
would be there for her too.

	And Cam, I wasn't sure what was going to happen with Cam.  I didn't
even know if he was willing to go public.  I did know, I wasn't willing to
sneak around for months until he made up his mind.  I'd never out him, but
I wasn't willing to make any emotional investment in a secret relationship
either.  We'd have to talk and talk soon.

	It hadn't been that long ago that I'd believed both Joe and I were
going to be single our senior year.  Now, I maybe had Cam and it looked
like Joe would be starting over with Betsy.  Life was moving on for both of
us.  I wondered why I wasn't happier about that.


Author's note:

Again I'd like to thank all of you who have written and encouraged me to
continue with this story.  Keep them coming please, I love hearing from you
and it keeps me working on the story.

And special thanks to Peter, for his generous efforts to teach me the
proper place for commas, semicolons and colons, to say nothing of who/whom
and I/me.  I'll probably never get it through my thick skull, but your
lessons were most appreciated.

To Kenny, as always, you are the best.  How many times have you read this
chapter now?  If it works at all, it's because of you.

There are so many others, if I listed them all, it would be longer than the
chapter.  But you know who you are and thanks.

Oh, and don't forget to check out http://archerland.net for more great
stories by Nick and Papyrophile and the rest of the gang.  Until next time.

jfinn