Absolute Convergence
Chapter Seventy-six
By John Yager

This ongoing series has now continued for almost two years, far longer than I ever imagined when it began.

I've appreciated the incredible loyalty of readers who've stayed with me from the beginning and those new readers who contact me from time to time saying that they've discovered the series and ventured through the collected chapters. I'm always glad to receive comments, questions, criticism and encouragement and hope to continue hearing from you. I try to answer all messages promptly. If I'm slow at times it's only because of the pressures of work.

Andrew continues to give much needed proofing and editorial help, for which I am sincerely grateful. I could not post chapters as quickly as I've been doing without his invaluable assistance.

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William's room was huge, dwarfing the guest room I'd been in the night before. The guest room had run along one side of the central upstairs landing.  William's room spanned the entire width of the wing at the west end of the house. It seemed to be one continuous, flowing space with a sitting area directly across from the door. A fire glowed in the fireplace against the far wall. Off to the right was the actual bedroom area.

"Dad's and Charlotte's rooms are even larger," William said, almost apologetically, when I commented on the size of his room.

"It's bigger than my entire apartment in LA," I said.

"That's all right, Robert," he smiled as he pulled me into his arms. "I won't mind being a bit crowded with you."

"Oh," I teased, "does that mean you're moving in?"

"If you'll have me," he said, kissing me. "I'd live in squalor if you were there," he interjected when he briefly abandoned my lips.

"I didn't say my apartment was squalor, sir! I just said it was smaller than this gymnasium you live in. Actually, my apartment is very nice."

He laughed but, still holding me closely said, "I'm beginning to think I'd go anyplace to be with you, Robert."

"Oh, William, I know how you feel and I'm beginning to feel the same way about you, but don't move too fast, there may be dark sides of my character you won't like at all."

"I know my own mind," he said, a more serious tone slipping into his voice. "When I see what I want I persue it, and I don't change my mind easily."

"Admirable," I grinned as I kissed his ear, trying to move the conversation back to a lighter place.

"When I was nineteen Peter took me shopping for a car. The third or fourth one we saw was the one I wanted and no matter how he tried to tell me it wasn't practical, or that I should at least consider a few other models, I insisted it was the one I wanted. I still have it and can't imagine driving any other car. It is perfect for me, almost an extension of my personality, and I think the same thing is true of you, Robert, even if you don't believe it yet."

"I want to believe it, William, and I hope it's true." We kissed again and when he broke away I asked, "so what kind of car did you choose?"

"A 1956 MG roadster.  It's sixteen years old, in perfect condition and cherry red." he grinned.

"Yes, I can see you driving a car like that."  I looked into his amazing blue eyes and added, "I just got a new car. Well, actually, I'll be picking it up as soon as I get back to LA."

"What kind is it?"

"A brand new Firebird, solid black and with enough power to outrun an earthquake. It would leave your little red toy sitting in the dust."

"A Firebird? Isn't that the car some American TV detective drives? You know, Jim something?"

"Yes," I said, "Jim Rockford."

"My goodness, Robert, that isn't at all what I'd expected. I can't even visualize you driving some overpowered, super masculine road menace."

"See," I laughed, "there are sides of my character you haven't even guessed at yet."

"Well, I'd move in anyway. I know what I want."

"You are a romantic," I smiled, kissing him again.

"Hopelessly. Now, let's get ready for bed."

He turned quickly to lock the door from the hall and then pointed toward a door on the left. "I think Simon will have put your things in there," he added as he went off in the opposite direction.

When I opened what I assumed was a closet, I found instead a sizeable dressing room. I took off my jacket and slacks and added them to the other hanging clothes which Simon had neatly arranged on the left side of the dressing room. On my right my folded and neatly stacked underwear and shirts were placed in an orderly manner on shelves. Once naked, I walked further into the dressing room, through another door and discovered a small bathroom with toilet, wash basin and shower.

I was standing there, thinking perhaps I'd take a quick shower, when William looked in and said, "what's keeping you." He stood there in the doorway, equally naked and absolutely beautiful in the soft light.

"I was considering a shower."

"Don't shower," he said, reaching out to take my hand, "come on." He led me off toward what I presumed to be his own dressing area.

When we came around a partition which divided the actual bedroom from what lay beyond, I was confronted with a very complete workout area.

The rest of the vast room had warm, cream colored carpeting. Here, however, the floor was covered with ceramic tile of almost the same color. To the right was a dressing table. To the left were a couple of mean looking workout machines, a bench and a well stocked rack of free weights. Against the back wall was a huge raised tub.  Doors on either side of it, I discovered later, gave access to a dressing room and bath.

I'd only seen what we'd now call spas or hot tubs in places like motels or health clubs, never before in a private home. This one was a little smaller than the kind found in more public places, but it was clearly big enough for three or four people.

A stack of luxurious white towels lay on a stand to the right of the tub and on its wide rim sat a tray on which a bottle of chilled white wine and two glasses stood waiting.

As we approached the tub the water moved slowly as steam rose from its undulating surface. William left me for a second, stepped to a wall- mounted control and turned it. The water suddenly erupted in a turbulent boil.

"Come on," he said, taking my hand again and leading me up the wide steps and into the churning water.

The water, I quickly realized, had a wonderful aroma, not the harsh chemical smell I associated with hot tubs in public places. It was the fragrance of citrus and lavender and sage, all blended into one subtle and very masculine scent. I also realized immediately that the water was very, very hot.

"It will take a minute to get used to the temperature," he said as we stood side by side. I felt as if I was in danger of being boiled alive, but I slowly acclimated and we sank down, sitting together on the submerged ledge.

William put his arm around me and pulled me to him. We kissed, softly at first but with increasing passion.

"I've been dreaming about this all day," he moaned when our mouths parted.

"Me too."

He reached behind me for the wine.

"Let's just relax a little."

The hot water and chilled wine soon did their work. We kissed repeatedly, letting our hands have free run over each other's body. I began to feel almost light headed, as if I were gliding on some enchanted cloud. The mood was only slightly altered when, after about fifteen minutes, the timer on the hot tub pump clicked off, and with it the rumble of the turbulent water was suddenly silenced.

"Come on," William whispered, taking my hand. We stepped out of the tub feeling like a pair of invertebrates, completely limp from the effects of the steaming water. William took two towels, threw one over his shoulders and then, with the other, began, slowly and tenderly, to dry me. I turned when he said turn, lifted my arms when he told me to lift them. I felt as if I were floating in a fog and would have happily taken any orders.

I did eventually have the presence of mind to snatch the towel William had tossed over his shoulders and dry him as he was drying me. Then, as rosy as a pair of newborn babes, we walked hand in hand to William's big bed and crawled under the soft, cool sheets. The bed seemed to have the same wonderful scent I'd noticed in the hot tub.

The fire in the fireplace had burned down to a bed of flickering coals but as we lay side by side the light flickered over our heads on the high ceiling.

William rolled away from me for a moment and adjusted some controls on the bedside table.  The room was filled with strange, rich music, totally unknown to me. Then, turning back to me again, he sighed as he took me in his arms.

We kissed again and then he rose up a little more, looked down into my eyes, smiled and said, "you know, Robert, I have no idea what you like."

"What I like?"

"Yes, you know, your sexual preferences."

"Oh," I smiled, "I'm quite versatile. What about you?"

"The same, I suppose. I suppose it depends on the person I'm with, but with you, I want to try everything."

We kissed again and my hands ran over his body. He was amazing, muscular, gentle, passionate, funny, all in turns. I quickly discovered that making love with William was, above all else, fun.

The dark side of sex I'd sensed with Roger and the enjoyment of pain I'd seen briefly in Peter were not at all part of William's nature.

The music built to a climax and then slipped into a quiet, pensive passage.

"What is that music?" I asked.

"Elgar," he said between kisses. "The Enigma Variations."

I've always loved music. Although I'd never really studied it, I knew it had a power over me. Specific pieces have become so identified with certain seasons of my life that to hear them, even years later, can bring back a mood, a longing which can almost break my heart.

You may have guessed by now that William was to play a dramatic role in my life, so I won't be revealing anything that you haven't already realized when I say that, even now, over thirty years after he and I first met, those strains still move my heart with love and devotion and gratitude for the man who has been my partner, my lover, my life.

I may have known all that then, but it took some time, many separations and reunions before we became what we now are. There are still many chapters of our story left to tell.

Others who know much more about music than I ever will have said Elgar's music is dated, even trite but, for William and me, the Variations are the music which most fully accompanies our love.

I rolled over onto my back, holding William close, his chest pressed against mine, taking him with me, so he was lying on me, the weight of his body on mine. We were both laughing and the reverberations of our laughter resonated through our bodies. The moment was somehow humorous and joyful and overflowing with love. I suddenly felt very young, like a child playing happily with a new friend.

William broke away from my embrace just enough to look down into my eyes. He smiled. "I want to get to know your cock," he said and slithered down my body like a salamander in reverse. I was too amused to object, and when he backed down far enough for his face to be even with my crotch, he grasped the pulsing head of my dick between his warm, wet lips and any remaining resistance I might have mustered vanished.

He was slowly sucking my cock into his welcoming mouth, pulling it in, inch by wet inch, until I was consumed. His lips pressed against my pubic hair and I felt my cock's swelling head nuzzle happily in the constricted tightness of his throat.

He didn't move. He made no attempt to back off and slide down again. He was simply holding me deep in his throat and doing a sort of swallowing, humming, vibrating thing which always drives me wild and quickly brings me to climax.

"Oh, William," I cried out. "I can't take that! I'm going to explode." He made no move to release me and I felt as if my entire body was being ravaged by his mouth. "William, please, if you don't stop I'm going to come."

He still held me deep in his throat and I slipped over the edge. It was far too fast. I'd wanted it to last, wanted our first sex together to go on and on. But it was beyond my control. I was helpless to stop it.

My cock erupted deep in William's throat and he still made no effort to free me.

I felt my body slowly relax, uncoil, slipping back against the fragrant pillows.

Eventually he crept back up beside me and took me in his arms.

"I love you, Robert," he whispered.

"Yes, William," I sighed. "I love you too."  I knew at that moment that it was true.

To be continued.