Disclaimer
This story is a work of fiction, meaning it did not take place.  It contains sexual content involving persons under the age of consent which may be inappropriate for you or illegal where you live.  If this is the case, please read no further.  I do not condone the actions or choices of the fictional characters contained within this story.

Comments should be directed to Mark Adams.



...From the last chapter...

"Oh my God..." he breathed.  "What did she tell you?"

"She... told me," I laughed, smiling at the sweet torture I was inflicting.  I felt my way around his foreskin, working a finger into his tight, precious prepuce.

"She said she wouldn't tell anyone, especially not you."  My hand stopped its exploration of Ian and I was suddenly very aware of my heart as it beat in my chest.

"Wouldn't tell me... what?" I thought.  I tried to replay the conversation with Bonnie in bed last night, wondering what I'd missed-- what my dear wife had left out of the conversation.

"Well, I guess it doesn't really matter," he said, though I begged to differ.  He leaned his head back, a grin spreading across his face as he looked up at me.  His glance shifted to the left and he jumped.  "Oh, no!" he squealed, pulling my hand out of the leg of his shorts and hopping off my lap.  His tiny shorts were now visibly pressed out behind the stretched zipper.  "Lunch is almost over!"  He bent over to pick up his book bag and I checked out the seat of his shorts and admired how his muscled rump molded the material so perfectly, while at the same time wondering what secret my wife and my lover shared.

I looked over at the clock.  I seemed to have lost all track of time.  I lifted my right hand to my nose, smelling Ian's special perfume on my fingertips.  "What did he tell Bonnie not to tell me," I wondered.  I glanced back toward the door and, as I started to look back at Ian to ask him, I did a double take as I realized I had seen a smiling face at the window-- a Jason smile.

When I looked back, there was nobody there...



Into Ian - Chapter 5
When the final bell rang that day and the kids filtered out, I moved toward the window to lower the blinds.  I wasn't quite sure what to do.  Follow Jason?  Head home to question Bonnie?  Did either of the choices make sense?  I looked out my window and saw Larry's Volvo in the parking lot and decided to see if I could catch him before he left.  I needed to talk with someone, but about what I wasn't sure.  I just needed a friend I suppose.

As I headed down the hall toward the Administration area, I passed Coach Carr in the hall.  Our eyes locked for a moment as we walked in opposite directions, but I was the first to avert my eyes.  I looked over my shoulder as I passed and saw he had half-looked over his shoulder, too.  I knew why I was looking, but I had no idea why he would think I was worth a second glance.  I continued on to Larry's office, where I saw him standing behind his desk, putting some paperwork into his briefcase as I entered.  He looked up as I approached his door.

"Hey there, Mark!" he greeted me, closing his briefcase and setting it on his desk.  "Change your mind about my offer?"  He chuckled.

"Yeah," I said, though not yet knowing exactly what it was I wanted to discuss with him. "I guess so.  But I can see you're headed out, so I'll just come back tomorrow."

"Nonsense."  He waved me in to his office toward the small, circular table next to his desk. "There's no time like the present and I don't have anywhere I need to be this evening," he said, moving toward the table and pulling out a chair for me. "Besides, I have a feeling that if I let you walk out that door, you won't be coming back."  I smiled sheepishly as he reached out to my shoulder and gently pressed me into the chair.

"Ok, you're probably right," I admitted.  He laughed again as he moved toward his office door and closed it before returning to one of the extra chairs next to mine.

"So," he began, looking directly into my eyes, "you decided to come see me?  I'm honored."  I snickered, but he waved his hand in the air between us. "No, Mark. I'm serious.  I'm really glad you feel comfortable enough to come see me.  I know something is bothering you.  So what's going on in that thick head of yours?" He winked at me-- that time I was sure of it.  His soft green eyes were so warm and comforting.

"Oh, I don't know, Larry," I said again, not quite sure what I was even doing here.  I felt like a fool.

"You don't know where to begin? Or you don't know if you should? There's a difference, of course, and it's obvious it's one or the other," he said, giving me a sly smile.  I have to admit, Larry was perfectly suited to his role as a counselor.  Of course, he had no idea what was bothering me, but he was naturally empathetic and was always a good listener. I just didn't want anyone to hear what I needed to say.  No, maybe it's more appropriate to say I couldn't say what needed to be said.

"I... I just don't know." I was truly at a loss for words.  What could I tell him?  How could I talk with him about my dilemma? What words could I use to seek his guidance without... exposing myself?

"Okie dokie, then.  Let me start it out for you.  Some times that helps, you know?"  He placed one arm onto the table and leaned toward me, shifting slightly forward in his seat.  "Larry," he said, speaking as if he were me, "I'm carrying a weight on my shoulders.  I feel alone.  So alone I can't even talk to a friend."  I nodded my head, looking down to where I was fidgeting with my fingernail. "And I'm confused."  I nodded again.

"Uh huh," I acknowledged, but saying nothing else.

"Well, Mark," he said, now speaking as himself, "I'm glad you came to see me then.  Because I know you're visiting me now as a friend, and not as a school counselor. And you know-- of course you do-- that what is said here is in confidence, something between friends.  And that's a stronger vow of confidentiality than any other."  He let that sink in and, while he did, I thought about what that meant.  I knew that anything you told certain professionals (though I didn't know if that applied to a school counselor) was protected by a limited sense of confidentiality, but there were always limits, especially regarding... certain subjects.  But I wasn't about to spill my guts, either, even though there was a large aching within me that wanted to pour it all out.

"Between friends?" I asked, glancing up at his probing eyes.

"And nobody else," he answered.

"How much time do you have?" I joked, laughing nervously.

"As long as you can wrap things up before..." he glanced at his watch, "...oh, first period tomorrow, I think we're ok," he said, laughing gently, which broke some of the tension. I smiled. And then frowned slightly, which he noticed.  "You trust me, don't you?"

"Yes, Larry.  I do," I said, feeling a bit embarrassed that my refusal to open up could actually hurt his feelings.  "It's just that, well... it's just sensitive."

"Most people don't stop by to see me unless it is..."

"Good point," I acknowledged.  I thought for a moment before continuing.  I decided to take the plunge-- well, not so much a plunge as a dip.  "Larry," I said, my words pinched in the back of my throat, "I'm bisexual."  No crime in that, I suppose, but it did open me up more than I would have wanted.  How's that for a plunge?

"Hmmm."  He scratched his head with his index finger for a moment.  "Bisexual?" he asked, emphasizing the first part of the word.  "Nothing wrong with that, I guess. At least it's not as bad as being homosexual.  I mean, that is something I could never tolerate." He smiled at his own wit, and I couldn't help but return his smile.

"Well, maybe not fully... bisexual, I guess."

"I'm sorry, Mark," he said softly but firmly, "but being married-- even having heterosexual sex-- doesn't make someone bisexual.  But we'll go with that premise. At least we're getting somewhere, right?"  I nodded slowly.  "I always assumed Bonnie knew."  I thought about the implications of that statement.  I had told him Bonnie and I had had an argument, so I suppose he logically assumed that was the cause of the argument.

"What?  Do I seem... gay to you, Larry?  Is it that obvious?"

Larry laughed out loud at that.  "Oh, Mark..."  He leaned back in his chair and stared at me for a moment, obviously thinking.  "No, I shouldn't have laughed.  It's actually a very good question." He paused again before continuing. "No," he said emphatically. "No, you certainly don't seem gay to the average person. You've closeted yourself very well.  But in my line of work, you get to know a lot about people, especially things they don't necessarily want you to know."  He shifted in his chair.  "But I have, how would you say... an unfair advantage."

"What do you mean?"  Had he spoken to Bonnie?  Did he have access to some unknown information?

"You see," he responded and paused for effect, "I'm not fully heterosexual myself."  My jaw must have dropped because he laughed softly.  "I guess your gaydar isn't nearly as well refined as mine," he said through a guarded smile.

"You mean, you're gay?"  I was flabbergasted.  I'd known Larry for quite a while and never put two and two together. And I'd always assumed my gaydar was as good as the next guy's.  But, as I thought about it, Larry had never brought a female companion to any of the social events we'd attended together.  He'd never mentioned a girlfriend.  Comments he'd made over the time I'd known him seemed to make sense now. It was as if I had been observing him through some sort of filter which, now removed, cast a new light on my friend.

"Of course," he said.  "But enough about me..."  I begged to differ. I knew I was gay, but Larry's revelation was intriguing.  I wanted to know more.

"Do you have a... a boyfriend?"  I stumbled over my words.  I had been very open in college, but that was many years ago.  I guess I'd been out of the scene long enough that it was like I was rediscovering my sexuality anew.

"From time to time, yes.  Sometimes more than one, I would have to admit."  He winked again.

"Wow."  It's all I could think to say.  I guess it wasn't all that profound, really.  A single, middle-aged male.  A homosexual male.  Of course he probably had a string of short-term partners.  It's one of the many reasons I had opted out of that lifestyle when I was younger-- it just had no appeal to me.  But the thought of being free to fully explore one's sexual identity seemed... incredible.  A pang of jealousy-- a rare feeling for me-- struck me.

"So, anyway," he said, consciously changing the subject back to me, "I find it difficult to believe you just recently discovered your sexuality?"  He framed the statement as a question.

"No, I used to be quite open about my sexuality," I replied.  "And, to answer your earlier question, yes, Bonnie does know.  We were friends in college; quite platonic.  It's a long story, I suppose, but to make a long story short, we each made compromises." I paused a second as I considered that comment.  Most gay friends I'd had considered me a sell-out and felt quite comfortable telling me I was denying who I was; that my marriage would never work and my life would be filled with regret.  "Compromises neither of us have regretted.  I certainly didn't want to live the 'gay lifestyle'."  The implications of my statement smacked me in the face and I quickly began to backpedal.  "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that lifestyle."

"No, I understand.  I'm not offended, Mark.  There are definite drawbacks, but there are also many... rewards?"

"Yes, I'm sure." I smiled at him, my jealousy subsiding but not evaporating.  "But it wasn't for me.  The benefits have far outweighed the costs."

"Until recently..." he said slowly.

I pondered that question for quite some time.  I'm not sure how long I took, but Larry never interrupted.  "Until recently," I repeated in acknowledgment.  I looked up from my hands to his soothing eyes, his peaceful countenance.

"And therein lies the turmoil."

"Yes," I admitted softly.

"So what happened to change that?  You've met someone recently, I'm assuming?  Someone that has made you question your choice?"

"Yes."  I didn't mean to say that so adamantly, but I suppose he understood.  "I met a... a guy recently.  He's so perfect, he..." I fumbled for the right words, "he broke through my barriers.  All my carefully planned defenses.  Oh, that just sounds so fucking stupid," I chided myself.

"Not stupid," he replied.  "Maybe a bit childish, perhaps."  I winced-- visibly, perhaps-- at his choice of words and immediately wished I hadn't.  Perhaps he hadn't noticed, but then again, knowing Larry, he was probably reading me like a book.  I felt exposed, and had a sudden need to bring the conversation to a close .  I kicked myself become lulled by his calm and gentle manner and I felt my heart rising in my throat.  I needed to be cautious about revealing anything more damning.

"Yes, I guess it is somewhat silly," I said as calmly as I could, avoiding his term and trying to play it cool.  "But I can see that little better now.  Now that I've said it out loud."  It was my turn to shift in my seat now, as if to prepare for my exit.  He seemed to be studying me and I almost hated him for it.  Or, more accurately, hating myself for putting myself in this position.  I looked at my watch.

"Relax," he said.  It was somewhere between a command and a request.  "I can see we've struck a nerve," he continued, "but that happens when you are approaching the root of an issue."

"I need to get going shortly," I said, almost pleading. "I was late getting home last night and I don't want to make Bonnie suspicious."  I was playing the 'spouse' card, one of the benefits of getting married.

"Why would she be suspicious?" he asked, ignoring my statement.  "Suspicious of what?  Is that the real issue you've come to discuss?"  I looked at him carefully.  I knew he knew the answer to his own question.  And he knew that I knew he did.  My mind flashed to some infomercial I'd seen years back about 'Verbal Kung Fu' and I had to smile.

"I think you know, Larry."  It hit me that he hadn't asked whom I'd met recently, or the nature of the meeting.

"Oh, I think you're right, Mark. I think you might have underestimated my powers," he said, raising his eyebrows comically before laughing out loud, breaking the tension.  "Forutnatley for you," he said, nodding at me, "I've chosen to use my powers for good instead of evil!" he exclaimed, forcing me to laugh along with him, though not as vigorously.

"Yes.  I'm very fortunate," I joked.

"I'm going to remind you of something important," he said earnestly, suddenly becoming more serious.  "This is a discussion between friends.  Not co-workers.  I'm speaking with you because you are a friend, a friend with a problem he cannot seem to solve on his own. I'm not trying to sneak past your well-fortified walls to ridicule you or expose you.  If you feel you've already said too much, I won't keep you."

"It's not that, Larry," I lied.  "It's..."

"If you need to get home, I completely understand," he interrupted. "But I want you to know I'm available to you.  Any time.  For any reason."  He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees.  "I do think I know what's bothering you, Mark."  He looked at me sincerely, gauging my reaction.  "And, if I'm correct, it's intensely personal and private.  I may not have any right inviting myself into that part of you which is so deeply personal, but I'm at least extending the invitation.  For you," he said with finality.

I wondered how much he really knew.  I'd already admitted to him I was (gasp) a fag.  And he'd admitted the same to me.  I had already admitted there was... someone else in the picture.  But that wasn't really so shocking, was it?  Just what was it he thought he knew?  As much as I liked Larry, however, the subject of my unrest was not something I could share.  I was all alone on this journey.

"I really appreciate your concern," I finally said.  "I really do. But I'm just not able to go there right now."

"I understand," he said, clearly a little saddened by my words.  "But the offer stands."

"Thank you.  I really mean that. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.  I'm very lucky to have a friend like you, Larry."

"You're welcome," he replied, standing to his feet.  "Oh, one other thing."

"Yes?" I answered as I stood.

"Coach Carr was in my office just before you arrived."  I flashed back to our akward passing in the hallway.

"Sure. I saw him on my way in."

"Were you wandering around the locker rooms last night?"  I stood there blinking, wondering how to respond

"Well," I began, thinking how to proceed.  "I did go there to speak with Coach about one of my students."

"Ian?"  I felt his eyes bore into me.  "Or perhaps Jason?"

"No," I replied, "Well, not Jason. But I did see him there."  I skirted the mention of Ian. "Well, I saw Jason in the school.  Not in the locker room."  I wasn't trying to tattle-tale on Jason, just avoiding the mention of Ian.

"So Ian, then?"

"Well, yes," I stammered.  Damn it.  "I wanted to speak to Coach about Ian's tardiness.  He has P.E. before my class and I was wondering if Coach was giving the students enough time to get to their next class.  But he wasn't... there."  I thought better about adding any other details.

"Makes sense," he said.  "He informed me that Ian would not be late any more.  He's all yours."

"Umm... ok."  I wondered how Coach would have known about my frustration with Ian's tardiness.  Or why that would merit a discussion with the school's guidance counselor.  But mostly, I wondered at Larry's last comment.  "He's all yours..."  Was that his comment or Coach's? And what did it mean?

"Oh, and at the risk of sounding like Columbo," he said, picking up his briefcase and heading toward the door, "just one other thing."  I smiled wanly at his humor.

"You need to get something to cover up the little window in your classroom door."  He raised his eyebrows slightly before opening the door and heading into the hall.

***

"That fucking bastard!" I yelled as I hit my steering wheel, sitting there in the school parking lot.  But I didn't even know for whom the insult was intended.  Larry, perhaps?  No... probably Coach Carr.  Or, more likely, Jason?  No, I guess I was cursing myself.  I was in a world of shit now.

I knew I should have followed Larry out and continued the conversation. But how?  What did he know? And how did he know... if he knew?  Well, of course he knew.  Why else would he say something like that?  And, if he knew, wouldn't it have been more appropriate for him to report my offense instead of tipping me off to cover my window?  Or, at a minimum, to inform me not to molest my students in my classroom?

My mind raced, going down every possible avenue, tracing and retracing my steps until I was tangled in a web.  Maybe I'd stumbled on to some child molestation ring or something.  Maybe Coach Carr was fucking Jason and Larry was involved somehow.  Perhaps Ian had sought Larry's guidance.  Or maybe Jason told Larry, who was a friendly pedophile who was giving me the heads up.  Maybe Bonnie was fucking Ian? Oh, God!  I just didn't know what was real-- only that I had fucked up somewhere along the line after all this time and my secret was out.  I hoped against hope that wasn't the case, but deep down I knew it was true.  Somebody-- maybe several somebodies-- knew. And now I had to head home to my Bonnie, who had some part to play in all this insanity.

I'll admit it, I thought about suicide at that moment.  I'm not proud of it-- I'm not a quitter.  But I contemplated it, if only for a moment. How could I do that to my wife and son?  I could see my wife in my dream...  "There's no help for you, Mark."  Dear God, help me.  I had no clue what to do.

That short ride home was the longest of my life.

As I entered the house, Tigger greeted me at the laundry room door, almost bouncing with excitement to see me.  I frowned at the thought that he might be the one true friend I had at that moment and I crouched down to pet him.  I wrapped my arms around his strong body, hugging him and kissing him below his ear. 

I could smell dinner and hear the clinking of dishes as the dinner table was set.  I took a deep breath and braced myself as I headed toward the kitchen.  I saw Josh, changed into his play clothes, setting the table in the breakfast area where we normally ate.  When he saw me, he set the silverware down and came to greet me.  "Hi, Dad!" he chriped as he worked his way around the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen and family room, causing Bonnie to turn around from the stove where she was putting the finishing touches on the evening meal.  He wrapped his arms around my torso and I hugged him hard around his shoulders, eliciting a grunt from him.  Bonnie smiled at the sight and moved toward me, as well.

"How was your day, hon?" she asked as she reached us, hugging my shoulder and placing a hand on Josh's back.  At that moment, I knew I didn't deserve either of them, but I was determined to do whatever I needed to do to keep them.

***

The rest of the evening was uneventful.  I learned that the Liebermans had, in fact, put an offer on the house down the street and, after some back and forth, the offer had been accepted.  That would mean a sizeable commission, of course.  Josh had jabbered throughout the meal about his day, and Bonnie caught me up on the neighborhood gossip.  I found it strange that, despite everything churning around in the back of my mind, everything seemed calm.  Normal.  But I knew this was the calm before the storm.  When Josh was in bed, I knew Bonnie and I would be talking.  My mind kept going over the events of the last few days and especially my conversation with Larry, and Bonnie kept having to bring me back to whatever was being discussed.

Once Josh was tucked in and I closed his bedroom door behind me, I braced myself and headed downstairs to the bedroom.  Although I really didn't want to have any in-depth conversation at the moment, I knew it was time.  Tick-tock...

I found Bonnie brushing her teeth at the bathroom sink and I sat on the edge of the tub behind her.  She looked at me in the mirror.  "Is Josh tucked in?" she inquired.  Tigger wandered in with a tennis ball in his mouth, trying to engage me in a romp, but I shooed him away.

"Yes," I responded, as Tigger dramatically spit the ball onto the tiled floor and moped out toward the bedroom area.

"I forgot to mention," she said, and I braced myself, "...there's a list on the bar of a few more supplies he needs for school.  Do you have time to pick them up before school?"

"Sure..."  I sighed.  I started to take off my shoe and thought I should probably try to take control and set the tone of the conversation instead of waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop.  "Bonnie?"

"Yes, dear?"  She was rinsing her toothbrush and wiping her mouth.

"We need to talk..."  She paused a moment before placing the hand towel back on the rack.  Tick-tock...

"Yes. I guess we do," she replied.  "Come on."  She motioned for me to follow her and I did.  She closed the bedroom door and crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed and I joined her, sitting on my side of the bed.

"So, anway," I began before stopping.  "Actually, I'm not really sure where to begin."

"Mark," she said when I paused, "I'm sorry about last night."  I wasn't expecting an apology and it caught me off guard.  "First off, I lied to you.  About Ian.  I never lie to you, but I lied about not knowing he wasn't wearing any underwear.  I mean, it was mostly true."  Bonnie had no way of knowing that I knew she had lied or how I knew, of course, which made her admission that much more genuine and meaningful.  And Ian's comment earlier made a lot more sense to me now.

She looked off toward the other side of the room before continuing.  "He and Josh were wrestling around in the family room and he... well, he 'fell out' I guess.  He was mortified that I saw, and Josh was laughing up a storm and teasing him."  She straightened out the bed cover.  "He begged me not to tell you-- his teacher. So I promised him I wouldn't.  And I made Josh promise, too."  She glanced over at me.  "It was actually kind of cute," she smiled nervously.  "I mean, did you know he's not circumcised?"

I said nothing in response.  A sick part of me wanted to know if she felt excited when she saw Ian's penis but I couldn't ask that, could I?  I mentally chastised myself.  I probably should have let her know she was forgiven for the lie, but that would have felt too shallow since I had a much bigger secret.

"Second off," she said, pulling the covers back, "I didn't mean to tease you.  You know... about Ian."  She began to get under the covers, still avoiding eye contact.  "I just... well, I don't know.  I guess I was just trying to get you in the mood.  You know?  I crossed the line I suppose, and I apologize."  She looked into my eyes.

"What do you mean?" I asked, looking away.

"Well, you seemed stressed. I wanted to get you excited, so I... well, I thought I was helping you.  It seemed to work at first, but then it backfired."

"Bonnie," I said calmly, "I don't understand where you're going with this."

"I was just trying to spice things up a bit by telling you about Ian."

"Why would that spice things up?" I spat.

"Mark!" she exclained quietly, turning toward me onto her side after glancing at the door.  "I know you better than that!  Please don't lie to me by telling me you don't find him... stimulating?  This is me you're talking to!"  We had never been this direct in any previous conversation regarding my attraction to boys and I was fully unprepared-- I had no good lies available at the moment.  "I know who you are.  At times I think I know you better than you know yourself.  I've always known! But I also know it's just fantasy-- you could never hurt a child!"  She scooted over toward me, placing a hand on my knee.  "I have never questioned your faithfulness," she said firmly.  "In fact, I've admired you tremendousy for the sacrafices you have made-- for me, and us.  And for Josh.  All alone, without anyone to help share your burden..."

I felt about two feet tall at that moment, if that.

"I was trying to spice things up by talking about Ian, but also to let you know that I know how you feel.  And that it's ok. I guess I felt you were starting to recede back into your... private space, and I was trying to let you know you weren't alone, that you didn't have to hide from me...  I didn't mean to embarrass you or push you into a defensive position."

I broke down at that moment, tears streaming down my face.  I could feel the sobs begin to build, and my instinct was to flee.  I couldn't have Bonnie see me like this!  And I couldn't look her in the eye, knowing that I was lying to this incredible woman I loved so much and who, for whatever reason, loved me more.  I definitely didn't deserve her.  As I shifted to rise from the bed, she sat up, grasping my hand and scooting closer, wrapping her right arm around my shoulder.

"I know, baby," she cooed.  "Let it out.  Please don't run away..."  I resisted the urge to push her away and instead collapsed into her embrace, beaten down by the roller coaster ride of emotions.  "Shhhhh... it's going to be ok."

If only I could believe that...

To be continued...