Date: Wed, 2 Aug 2006 08:34:22 -0600
From: Roy <roynm@mac.com>
Subject: Phalen - chapter 29 - college section

This story contains portrayals of homosexual actions and lifestyles.  There
may be references to, or explicit descriptions of, sex between consenting
adults.

If homosexuality, sexually explicit language, or swearing offends you, or
if reading material that contains these topics violates any law or personal
or religious beliefs, or if you under 18 years of age, please leave now,
without proceeding further.

This story is entirely fictional, and any resemblances to actual persons
are completely coincidental.  Actual locations are mentioned, and are used
for 'background' only.

You are also welcome to read my newest story, 'Leith,' also located in
Nifty's Gay College Section.


Roy
roynm@mac.com


Phalen - Chapter 29


----------


Greg sat uneasily in the large leather chair in his parents' living room
listening to the soft sounds of his brother and Phalen's lovemaking.  The
fingers of one hand drummed idly on the chair arm, the only external
manifestation of his inner turmoil other than the occasional lowering of
his expressive brows.  Another sound caused him to turn his head and look
down the hall.  'Could that have been a groan,' he wondered, running his
long fingers through his hair in agitation.  He abruptly folded the evening
newspaper and laid it on the large leather ottoman in front of him, knowing
he wouldn't be able to concentrate on the news until Jeff and Phalen were
finished.

'Where did I go wrong?'  He leaned an elbow on the chair arm and massaged
his forehead, closing his eyes.  'I never had any trouble when I was
fooling around with the neighbor boys while I was growing up.'  He smiled
in fond recollection of the first time he had been kissed by another boy.
He'd been fourteen, and one of the boys he met with regularly to
masturbate, shyly kissed him goodbye.  He chuckled at his reaction to the
touch of the boy's lips on his.

'*This* is *wonderful,*' he remembered thinking, surprising the boy and
himself by passionately returning the kiss and clawing at the boy's
clothing.  In only moments, they were stripped and were wrapped in each
other's arms.  Neither had wanted to be the one to break the kiss or stop
the exploration of each other's smooth-skinned bodies.

That was the first time Greg had ever tasted another person's sperm.  His
friend straddled Greg's chest and spurted into his open mouth.  The first
shot left a hot trail over his chin, but he had managed to capture the
remainder, coating his tongue.  His friend had giggled slightly and had
used his thumb to scrape the cum from the first shot into Greg's waiting
mouth.  He winked as Greg licked the sperm off of his finger and then began
sucking on the finger.

Greg leaned his head back and closed his eyes, remembering the taste of his
friend's finger and the sperm coating it.  He reached up and lightly
pinched one of his nipples, rolling his head to the side.

He regretted that their sexual explorations had never gone further, and
that he had never found another boy to carry on his sexual experimentation.
He was initially disappointed, but soon found himself immersed in trying to
do as well in school as possible.  He wanted to go to medical school and he
knew only the best of the best were admitted.  He no longer had time for
childish sex games.  Sex and relationships were things that could wait.

There was another noise from Jeff's room, this time the sound of Phalen
laughing.  Greg stood and walked into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of
coffee and considered going out for a walk.  As he took his first sip of
the steaming liquid he knew he'd not leave the apartment.  As disturbing as
the sound of his brother and Phalen making love was, it was also
. . . exciting.

Greg had almost gasped when Jeff and Phalen had burst into the apartment an
hour ago.  Jeff had kicked the door closed and had backed Phalen against
the wall and kissed him with a vengeance, unaware his brother was sitting
only a few feet away.  He would have expected them to be embarrassed by his
presence . . . but they weren't.  Jeff had even joked about letting him
"watch," before he and Phalen disappeared into the bedroom and closed the
door.

'*Watch?*' He turned around and leaned against the counter.  'I can't
imagine someone watching *me!* Once again he wondered what had happened to
him between his early sexual explorations and his attempts as an adult to
have sex.  'Somewhere along the line, I must have done something wrong,' he
thought.  'Otherwise, why don't things seem to work out?'

He had thought of everything, such as the fact he was a fiercely
independent person who found it very difficult to rely on anyone else for
anything.  He was sure that was why he was so bad at any sort of team sport
and assumed that was the same reason he was unable to form sexual
relationships.  He tended to keep his friends at a distance lest hi
failures in forming relationships follow him.

'I've been hurt too many times to feel comfortable becoming intimate with
anyone.'  The noise from Jeff's bedroom had stopped.  The house was so
quiet he could hear someone in the stairwell leading to the two floors
above his parents' flat.  'Running away from a relationship has become an
act of self preservation.'  He refilled his cup and took a sip, burning his
tongue.  "Hitto," (damn) he muttered, cocking his head at a brief sound
from the bedroom.  He closed his eyes, recalling the reasons he was
fearful.

There was the woman in his anatomy lab at school, his first experience with
a woman.  She had made it clear she *wanted* him and would do *anything* to
please him.  The night was a disaster.  He fumbled his way from one inept
attempt to provide pleasure to another until she finally got dressed and
left, ridiculing him and muttering how disappointed she was.

He sat on the edge of the bed silently watching her dress and listening to
her describe his inadequacies in vivid detail.

He spent the remainder of the night and most of the next day sitting on the
bed with his back against the wall and his arms wrapped around his bent
knees, reliving those awful moments when she began laughing at him.
Although they often saw each other at school, she had never spoken to him
again.  Perhaps she was as embarrassed as he.

There were two other times he had tried having an affair with a woman.
Both had been as disastrous as the first.  After each encounter he
experienced an emotional tailspin from which it took weeks to recover.
During those periods he had thrown himself into his schoolwork and had
avoided contact with almost anyone.

He felt bad for avoiding his parents during those times, but he couldn't
bring himself to face them.  His mother had always been able to read his
moods and it was inevitable that she would ask if was having a problem she
could help with.  He took another sip of coffee and listened for any sound
coming from the bedroom.

Then there were the men with whom he had tried to have sex . . . two to be
exact.  The experiences had been nothing like those with his young friend.
He took another sip of coffee.  Jeff and Phalen were quiet.  'Damn, I
wonder what they're doing.'  He fondled his penis through his pants,
willing it to respond.  Nothing happened.  He barked a silent laugh.

Nothing happened with the two guys he had tried to have sex with either.
Absolutely nothing.  After his experiences with women he thought he might
have more success with men.  Unfortunately, he had been so terrified of not
being able to perform; he hadn't even been able to get an erection.

'Poor Paavo,' he thought, remembering the young man he met at a bar near
Esplanade Park, and had dared bring back to his student flat.  'He thought
the reason I couldn't respond was because something was wrong *him.* Greg
remembered the dejected look on the poor guy's face as he silently dressed
and left.  Nothing Greg said would convince him that *he* was not the
reason Greg couldn't respond.

In a way, his first experience with a man was more troubling than those
with women.  At least with the women, *he* was the only person feeling
terrible.  When Paavo left, Greg had felt bad for himself but even *worse*
for the other person.

The next man, another student whose name he never knew, was more insistent,
and Greg eventually did manage to attain an erection.  'It was the kissing
that did it,' he thought.  When it came time to actually *do* something he
quickly lost his erection.  The night was a disaster.  He stumbled out of
the man's small apartment feeling terrible.  It didn't help that the sound
of the man's laughter followed him into the frigid night.  The closing of
the door to the man's house cut off the laughter *and* the light.  It was
after midnight in the middle of winter, and he was blocks away from his
flat.  He hadn't even noticed the bone chilling wind as he walked slowly
back to his room.  He wanted to cry . . . to do *anything* that would
demonstrate to him that he wasn't made of unfeeling stone.

His roommate had looked up from his computer, pushing his glasses back on
his nose as Greg stumbled into their room.  Now that he was home he wasn't
sure what to do, so he stood inside the door and stared into the distance.
Arvid, his roommate, rushed to the door and coaxed him out of his frozen
coat, scarves, hat and gloves.  When he had begun to shiver uncontrollably,
Arvid had helped him drink part of a cup of steaming coffee and then had
stripped him out of his clothes and whisked him into a warm shower.  By
then he remembered he was shivering so badly he was having trouble
standing.  He wanted to curl into a fetal position and make the world go
away.  Arvid stripped and had gotten into the shower and held him while the
warm water played over them both.

Greg remembered the feeling of Arvid's arms around him as well as the soft
words he spoke telling him everything would be okay.  He remembered closing
his eyes and hoping the water would wash away his humiliation while it
warmed him. . . . It hadn't.

The shivering had eventually stopped and Arvid helped him out of the
shower, briskly drying him off.  Greg remembered following Arvid from the
bathroom and being ordered to get into *his* bed.  Greg looked across the
room to his own bed but was too exhausted to argue.  In only moments, Arvid
had turned off the lights to the room and had climbed in beside Greg.  He
had pulled the heavy blankets up around their necks before wrapping an arm
around Greg, pulling him close.

Neither of them said anything, but it all had seemed so natural.  He
remembered waking up the next morning and realizing the previous night had
been the first time in his life he had felt someone's naked body next to
his for an entire night.  He remembered the feeling of Arvid's gentle
breathing on his neck, as well as the press of his substantial penis
against his buttocks.  Nothing sexual had happened, yet it had been the
most sensual experience he could remember.  Arvid had never asked why he
stumbled in almost frozen, nor had he ever asked Greg into his bed again.

He took another sip of coffee as he heard Jeff's bedroom door open and the
sound of voices heading down the hall to the bathroom.  He swirled the
coffee around in the cup.  'I would give *anything* to once again
experience the sort of contentment I experienced that night
. . . anything.'  He continued to lean over the kitchen counter until he
heard the bathroom door open and Jeff laugh at something Phalen had said or
done.  He moved the coffee aside and walked toward the hallway unsure what
he should do, but knowing he *had* to do something.  They looked up as he
stepped around the corner.  Jeff was naked, with a towel thrown over his
shoulder.  Phalen had his towel wrapped around his waist.

"Um, hi guys."  He could have kicked himself for being so timid.  Jeff's
pale skin accentuated the spread of hair that covered his chest, tapering
to a thin line that fanned out again, framing his flaccid penis.  Phalen
was the opposite of Jeff; deeply tanned, more muscular and absolutely
smooth.  "Do you think I could speak with you both for a bit?"  Jeff looked
at him strangely and then smiled, inviting him into his bedroom with a
gesture.  Greg gave Phalen a nervous grin as he passed.


----------


Jeff had not often seen his brother wearing such a serious expression.  In
fact, he and Phalen had seldom seen Greg during the past two weeks.  Margit
had shrugged when asked about his absence, saying his disappearance was not
unusual.

"When he was in school he was hardly ever home.  Of course, he had his
student housing, but even so it could be weeks between visits."  She
sighed, resting her elbows on the dining table, rotating her cup of coffee.
"I tell you both."  She looked from her son to Phalen, whose serious
expression matched hers.  "Greg's always been quite a handful."  She was
quiet for a moment, seeming to review her oldest son's life in the space of
a few heartbeats.  She looked at Phalen with a warm smile, and then turned
to Jeff.  "I wish he'd find someone as wonderful as you have to settle down
with."  Jeff reached for Phalen's hand linking fingers on the tabletop.
Margit looked at Jeff a little wistfully and then her gaze sharpened.

"Honey."  She leaned forward.  "What's changed in your life, other than
Phalen, here?  You are a different person from the one who left for
University."  Jeff bowed his head and out of the corner other eye she
noticed his grip on Phalen's hand tighten.

"Mother."  Jeff paused a moment trying to swallow.  "Phalen is what
happened to me."  He glanced to his left with a tender smile.  "Without him
I would be no different than when you saw me last."

"But . . . "

He held up a hand, gesturing for his mother to stop.  "Mother, please.  It
would serve no purpose to go into details.  Suffice it to say that I am
happier today than I have ever been."  He leaned across the table and
rested his hand on hers.  She looked at him with a troubled expression.

Seeing you and Dad . . . "  He searched for words.  "Showing Phalen where I
grew up . . . It's been more wonderful than I could have imagined.  I
. . . I never realized how much I missed everything . . . the language, the
greenery . . . everything.  He looked at her tenderly.  "But most of all I
never realized how much I missed you and Dad.  I didn't realize how
incomplete my life has been without the two of you in it."

She wiped one of her eyes, suddenly gone watery.  "Stop it sweetheart.
You'll have me crying."  She grinned a lopsided smile and searched his face
in silence but said nothing more.

That evening Jeff wrapped an arm around Phalen's shoulders as they leaned
against the bed's headboard, discussing the conversation with Margit.  Both
had decided Jeff had been right not to burden his parents with his
childhood problems.  "After all," Jeff said, bringing Phalen's hand to his
lips.  "There's not anything they can do to help.  Knowing the truth would
only make them feel guilty."  He turned to Phalen with a determined
expression.  "I don't want to do that to them, especially now that we've
established a new relationship with each other.  As always when Jeff got
into one of his self-analysis moods, Phalen sat quietly and let him figure
things out.


----------


Greg studied the clothes scattered around the room.

Phalen picked a few things off of the easy chair and invited Greg to have a
seat.  "Don't mind the mess.  We're usually a little more controlled than
you saw us earlier this evening."

"Not often," Jeff added sotto voce, tossing Phalen his towel and looking
through a dresser drawer for a pair of running shorts.  He was humming
tunelessly as he rummaged about in the drawer.

Phalen's gaze flicked from Jeff's naked body to Greg who seemed transfixed
by the sight of his brother.  Jeff must have noticed the sudden quiet
because he looked up with quirked eyebrows.

"What are you looking at, Greg?"  He smiled and stood up straight, facing
his brother.  "You've seen me naked lots of times.  He pivoted and turned
his back to his brother and then looked over his shoulder.  "See, nothing's
changed since you saw me last.  I still look just like you."  Greg laughed
and threw a piece of clothing at him that had been sitting on the arm of
the chair.

"Hey, thanks."  These are what I was looking for."  He held up the brief
shorts and shook them at his brother.  Greg's attention turned to Phalen as
Jeff tossed him a pair of yellow nylon running shorts that were as brief as
Jeff's.  Phalen caught them effortlessly and then dropped his towel,
turning his back to Greg as he pulled them on.  As he stood he noticed
Jeff's questioning expression and half smile and frowned in return before
picking up both towels and walking down the hallway to the bathroom to hang
up the towels.  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - When he came back to the
bedroom Jeff was sitting cross-legged on the bed facing his brother.  Greg
looked up as Phalen entered the room and smiled nervously.  Greg seemed to
be dressed like the typical Finnish man on the street, in a pair of casual
slacks and a crisply ironed shirt, though he had rolled his sleeves up,
exposing the same strong forearms as his brother.  Phalen climbed onto the
bed and sat next to Jeff.

"What's happening?"  Jeff asked into the silence.  Greg's naturally intense
expression intensified and he looked from his brother to Phalen and then
down at the floor.  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he
once again looked at his brother.

"Jeff . . . Phalen . . ."  He took another breath and looked from side to
side.  Phalen took Jeff's hand and got a return squeeze as reassurance that
everything was okay.  Greg looked back at them, but not before flicking his
gaze over his shoulder toward the open door and the living room beyond.

"I want to have a relationship like the one you guys have," he blurted.
Jeff looked at him in surprise.  "You guys are so happy.  When I . . . When
I saw you kiss a little while ago I was jealous."  He sat forward in the
chair.  "You see, every time I try to have some sort of relationship. . ."
He hesitated, trying to think of the appropriate words.  "It's a disaster."
He flopped back in the chair and tilted his head back.  "After each attempt
I feel humiliated.  It takes me weeks to recover and then the next time I'm
even more terrified."  He sighed, looking at Jeff once again.  "I've given
up.  But, after seeing you guys, I've begun to realize how much I'm
missing."  He bowed is head in embarrassment.

"Have you ever had sex?"  Jeff asked slowly.

Greg shrugged.  "I fooled around with a couple of the neighbor boys when I
was a kid.  We even masturbated each other quite a few times . . . and
kissed a lot."  He shifted his gaze away from his brother.  "It was fun,
but that doesn't count as a relationship.  Since I've become an adult
. . . well, I've . . . tried, but nothing works."

"You've *tried*, Jeff prompted.  Greg nodded.

"With both women and men.  Each time was a disaster."  He laughed in dry
amusement.  "After trying both men and women, there's nothing left.  When I
saw you guys kiss it was exciting.  I want the same thing.  When I hear
Mother and Dad talk about how happy you are, and then to see you touch each
other."  He sighed.  "I'm envious."

"Greg, I've gotta tell you, I've always thought of you as some sort of
super stud that could have any girl . . . or guy, he wanted."  Greg
shrugged but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Lots of people seem to think that's the case . . . but it's not true.
I've got many friends, but when things threaten to become sexual, I become
terrified. . . . I'm a failure."  He looked up, a smile dramatically
changing his face.  "I *do* masturbate a lot though.  *That* I'm good at."
Phalen chuckled.  "Very good," Greg added.  "It's everything else I'm a
failure at."

"When you're beating off, wanking, whatever they call it here. . . "

"Vert^Ê^Ê k^Êteen," Greg and Jeff, said simultaneously.  Phalen waved a
hand.

"That too."  Phalen paused a moment.  "Whenever you play with yourself, do
you mind my asking what are you fantasizing about?  What's exciting to
you?"  Greg thought long enough for Phalen to think he should not have
asked the question.

"I fantasize about guys, mostly.  I can have an orgasm thinking about a
woman, but it's not as satisfying as when I imagine a man."  Jeff's
eyebrows rose but he remained silent.  "In fact, since you've come back for
a visit, I fantasize about *you* Jeff."  Greg squirmed in the chair.  "I've
always fantasized about you," he murmured, looking at his younger brother.
He heaved a great sigh.  "You guys don't intimidate me like everyone else."
He squirmed in the chair again, trying to get into a comfortable position.

"You see, each time I . . . try . . . and have a bad experience, I become
more afraid to try again.  I *know* I'm going to fail before I even start."
He bowed his head and spoke in a low voice.  "You guys don't know how much
it hurts to be laughed at because you can't get an erection."  He looked at
them with wide eyes.  "When I'm not with someone I don't have any trouble
. . . getting hard.  When I'm expected to actually *do* something
. . . with someone . . . everything . . . goes limp."

"Whew," Jeff said, releasing a breath he didn't know he had been holding.
"And Dad says *I'm* full of surprises."  Greg looked at him seriously.
"Does Mother . . . " Jeff began.  Greg immediately shook his head.

"You mean does she know about me liking men?"  Jeff nodded.  Greg shrugged.
"She may have guessed, but I haven't told her."

"How . . . how did you do it, Jeff?  Were you always comfortable with your
orientation?"  Jeff gave his brother a rueful smile, and turned to glance
at Phalen.

"Hardly.  I was much more messed up than you."  Phalen slightly nodded his
bowed head and then rested his hand on Jeff's leg.  I hadn't changed
. . . at all . . . from when you last saw me, until Larry, that's Phalen's
father, introduced me to his son.  My life began to change the moment I
shook his hand.


----------


The candle in the middle of the table flickered wildly in the breeze.  Brad
brushed his fingers over his hair and set his fork down, studying the man
across from him.  After a few moments of silence, Larry looked at Brad from
under his eyelashes and grinned causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle.
"What are you thinking?  You're so serious all of a sudden."

"Sorry." He hesitated a moment and then seemed to reach a decision.
"Larry, we've been out with each other every night for the last two weeks.
What does your friend, Andrew think of not seeing you?"  Larry laid his
fork down and spoke slowly.

"We've seen each other . . . at lunch a couple times, and we've gotten
together after work to have a drink.  His office isn't that far from mine.
I also see him at the gym.  I see plenty of him.  Why do you ask?"  Brad
slightly shrugged.

"Do you miss seeing him . . . sexually?"  Larry lowered his voice and spoke
gently.

"Brad, I *have* seen him sexually since meeting you.  We enjoy having sex
together; we just know we're not right for one another in a relationship.
We agreed we could continue our friendship *and* have sex until either of
us met someone."  Larry studied Brad's bowed head for a moment.  "When
either one of us have met someone to become serious about, he and I will
start being just friends."

"Brad . . . have I hurt you by having sex with Andrew?"  He leaned back in
his chair, his arms hanging limply at his sides, studying the young man
sitting across the table from him.  Brad reached up and massaged his
forehead with the tips of the fingers of one hand while he thought.

"No, you've not hurt me . . . not really."  He paused a moment, picking up
his fork and idly toying with the food remaining on his plate.  Larry
caught his eye, slightly arching his eyebrows, asking if he was being given
a truthful answer.  Brad nodded once.  "I don't know.  Maybe . . . some."
Larry bowed his head.

"I'm sorry, Brad.  I didn't know you would feel this way."  He looked
aside, trying to gather his thoughts.

"Oh, geez, Larry.  I'm not devastated or anything, so don't look like
that."  He reached across the table the rested his hand on top of Larry's.
"You've not done anything wrong . . . really!"

"Is that *really* how you feel, or are you trying to make me feel better?"
Brad laughed and squeezed Larry's hand.

"Both.  It's really how I feel, *and* I'm trying to make you feel better."
He softly snorted.  "I guess I'm just not accustomed to having my questions
answered honestly, that's all.  It's sort of a shock."  He abruptly changed
the subject.  "Do you love him . . . Andrew?"

Larry shook his head.  "No.  I don't think he really loves me either.  I
*do* like him though . . . very much, but I don't love him.  He's fun to
hang out with, but . . ."  He trailed off and then grinned
conspiratorially.  "Whenever I'm with him I always think he's doing one of
his psychiatric analysis things on me.  He's never *really* done anything
like that, but sometimes that's how I feel.  Whenever I'm with him I find I
try and watch what I say."

"You said the two of you have agreed to stop having sex until either of you
meeting someone who might be relationship material."  Brad hesitated,
toying with his napkin.  "What do you think about me?  Since you guys are
still having sex, does that mean the two of us . . ."  He paused, not
knowing how to continue.

"Ohhhh," Larry sighed.  "I'm not doing well tonight, am I?"  He shook his
head and grinned, trying to lighten the mood.  "If you and I, or another
person and I agree to become partners, *then* Andrew and I will stop having
sex.  I didn't mean to intimate that because he and I were still seeing
each other sexually that you are just a guy I'm having fun with until the
right person comes along."  He paused and leaned closer.  "Brad, you're
*not* just another person.  You mean much more to me than that."

"What *do* you think of me?"

"I don't think you're analyzing me like I think he does, and I feel free to
say what I think when I'm with you."  Larry grinned at Brad's exasperated
expression.  "That *is* what you meant, isn't it?"  He laughed aloud,
flashing his dimples.  "I know it isn't.  I'm just teasing."  He leaned
forward and rested his forearms on the table.

Larry took a deep breath.  "I . . . don't know how to describe what I feel
about you.  I enjoy your company immensely.  I love your mischievous smile
and the way you cock your head a little sometimes, when you talk.  I love
your laugh, your sense of humor . . . the way you feel when we've touched.
I think you're one of the most handsome men I've ever met."  He winked when
Brad looked up in surprise.  "It's true," Larry continued, the corners of
his eyes crinkling.  "I would never get tired of seeing your naked body."
He took a deep breath.  "I also admire your continuing devotion to Curt."
Brad's eyebrows rose.

"But, I don't love you."  Larry concluded, reaching across the small table
and taking Brad's hand.  "I *could* love you . . . very easily.  I just
can't let myself feel that way.  There are . . . obstacles."

Brad nodded.  "Andrew's your same age, right?"  Larry nodded slowly,
already guessing what the next question might be.  "Am *I* too young for
you to be interested in . . . as a partner?"  Brad continued to toy with
his food, unwilling to meet Larry's eyes.  "I've been wondering."

Larry slowly released a deep breath.  "Well, I'm younger than your
*father,* right?"  Brad laughed and nodded.  "But," Larry continued.  "I
*am* sixteen years older than you."

"Closer to fifteen."  Larry made a motion with his hands, accepting the
difference.  "Do you like me, Larry?  I mean, I know we have a good time
together and all, but have you ever thought of . . . us . . . living
together?"  Larry was silent for a few moments as another breeze stirred
the candle flame, reflecting the flame's dance in Brad's eyes.  Eventually,
Larry nodded.

"Yes . . . I have.  Often.  I've also considered the same potential
problems you've obviously thought of, including your parents' reaction to
me, and your brothers', as well as Phalen's and Jeff's.  Brad, you're only
four years older than my son.  It's because of those differences, primarily
the age difference, that I won't allow myself to feel what I would very
much like to feel.

"I know what you mean."  They sat in silence while a waiter removed their
plates.  "I feel the same way . . . about you."  Brad smiled his thanks
when the waiter placed dessert in front of him.  "I still love Curt."  He
sighed and then continued. "I don't know if it's possible for me to *stop*
loving him."  He shrugged, beginning to toy with his dessert.

"But loving him does not mean I'd ever consider living with him . . . or
having sex with him again."  He stared into the distance for a moment.  "If
I ever made the mistake of sleeping with him again, I know I'd find myself
back to where I was before I left.  He may actually have changed, but I'd
never know for sure.  So, no matter how much I love him, I'll do it from a
distance."

"I've sat out by the pool on many of the nights after our dates and
wondered what living with you would be like.  I've also wondered if I'm
interested in you because you sort of fill a vacuum left by Curt's absence.
I don't *think* that's what's happening.  The times we've seen each other
have been so much more satisfying than when I was with Curt.  You listen to
me . . . really listen.  You're gentle."  His eyes twinkled from more than
the candlelight.  "You're also a great kisser.  I get all tingly when you
touch me . . . and I think you're soooo sexy when you're naked."  He
quickly added.  "You're pretty outstanding when you're dressed too."

Larry laughed loud enough to draw the attention of other diners.  "By any
chance are you horny, Mr. Kelly?"  Brad grinned and nodded.

"Thinking of you naked does that to me.  In fact, I've just about rubbed
myself raw from masturbating so often, thinking of you."  He looked at
Larry through his eyelashes, a shy smile playing with the corners of his
lips.

"Raw, huh?"  Brad chuckled.  "And I'm a good kisser," Larry continued.
"And you think I'm sexy, naked?"  Brad nodded after each statement.  "Funny
thing."  He paused.

Brad arched his eyebrows, silently asking what Larry meant.

"The same things are happening to me because I'm thinking of *you.*


~ To be continued ~


Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and comment on this
story.  I've been overwhelmed at the response to 'Phalen,' and love to hear
from each of you.

If you would like me to send you a pic of the guys that inspired the main
characters in this story, email me.

I would like to thank Carey for his ceaseless efforts to make me a better
writer, Gwynne for her daily doses of humor and her insights into the
characters, and Larry in Finland for helping me with the Finnish language
and for being a good friend.  Writing may be a solitary endeavor but the
thoughts of each of these people, as well as you, the story's readers,
affect the story's course.

Thanks for reading.

Roy
roynm@mac.com