Date: Sat, 31 May 2003 18:58:53 -0700 (PDT)
From: Evan Bradely <evanbradley33@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Rubbing My Face in Hawk"

The following fictional story deals with sex among males.  If you are offended
by such material, are too young, or reside in a location where it is not
allowed, please depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about
yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights.  No reproductions or links to other sites are
allowed without the author's consent.

EvanBradley33@Yahoo.com

                       Rubbing My Face in Hawk

My eyes fell on him in the midst of bagging fresh tomatoes for the huge tossed
salads I enjoyed.  His clothing announced that he was out of his element.  He
stood there in a black tee, a faded, rumpled denim jacket with the sleeves cut
off, boot jeans held up by a wide leather belt centered by a big, silver
cowboy belt buckle.  Yeah, I glanced down - his feet were shod in cowboy boots.
He was pushing a grocery cart for a cute, petite blond, who was chattering
away.  Dressed in classy weekend togs, she looked like she belonged in a trendy
mega market in Clayton, a posh borough in St. Louis.  No doubt about it - she
was hot.  But she didn't ring my bell; he did.  So the mystery for me
concerned how these two hooked up.

I could guess the kind of pickup he drove.  He had to live south of St. Louis,
probably in Arnold.  I'd guess he worked in the auto plant there.  Maybe had a
place in the country.  He was about 6' 2" and somber as a judge.  Short dark
brown hair covered his head and swept down the sides.  It was receding
slightly on either side of his head as it does with guys who are in their
mid-30s, but the phenomenon only made him look hotter.  He had a broad
forehead with eyes set close together on either side of a healthy nose that
hooked on the end, suggesting a hawkish visage.  He favored the stubbled
whiskers sweeping down his square jaw and around his strong chin.  A lighter,
modest moustache ran under that magnificent nose.  He had nice shoulders,
strong muscles in his arms, and hairy forearms with big veins snaking down
their length.  His gnarled hands were those of a laborer.  The legs of those
jeans were taut over work-developed muscles.  I'd bet he had to pull like
crazy to get those jeans up his legs.  If only he were positioned in such a
way that I could see how those jeans hugged his ass.  He wasn't "Gentleman's
Quarterly" material.  But he was handsome as hell.  My dick had started
hardening the second I began studying him.

Suddenly, he looked me right in the eyes.  He seemed to know immediately that
I'd been cruising him, but nothing about him betrayed any reaction to the
realization.  He looked into my eyes for about four seconds.  I was GQ
material, the kind women chase, especially when they find out my family has
money.  Their efforts were mostly wasted.  His cool eyes swept down my 6-foot,
23-year-old frame, noting my square shoulders, fairly flat chest, and long
smooth arms.  He saw long feet encased in Italian leather sandals, moving his
eyes up to take in my lightly haired shins and calves before my legs
disappeared in cargo shorts.  My white tee hung on my body, revealing only my
narrow waist.  I had muscles in my arms, but they really declared themselves
only when my arms and hands were working, as they were now as they whirled the
plastic bag of tomatoes preparatory to my placing a twist tie around the neck
of the bag.  The muscles in my arms and legs came from soccer and basketball
all through junior and senior high school.  Keeping my eyes focused on him,
I never looked down at what my hands were doing.

Finally, his eyes moved to mine again.  He checked out my thick, dark brown,
gel-shiny hair; my dark brown brows spread in a thin line over deep-set, dark
brown eyes; my straight nose with just the bottom sides of my nostrils flaring
out a bit.  My ears could be said to be sculpted, lying flat against my head.
I wondered if he liked my full, slightly poochy lips curving above a perfectly
shaped chin.  Others did.  I usually sported what one might call a scowl-pout.
He was really getting his eyes full.  I thought I'd have some fun.  Glancing
quickly from side to side to be certain no one else would observe my bold
behavior and then looking him right in his golden brown eyes, I moved my lips
in a little kiss aimed at him.

'Aha!' I thought.  At first those cool eyes widened by a millimeter.  Then a
light fired in his eyes.  I smiled hugely.  Who knows what might have happened
next if Girl Friend hadn't turned to engage him in a series of questions about
a meal she was planning for them.  The moment was gone.  Without looking back
at him, I ambled on down the produce aisle, checking out the green onions.
I never looked back; I didn't have to - his hot image was still playing on my
mental screen.

You're thinking I'm conceited.  I'm not.  I have enough appreciation for the
vicissitudes of life to avoid the trap of thinking that I'm important.  From
junior high school on, the several hundred women throwing themselves at me, on
me, sucking me, and putting their hands on the gentle curves of my ass to pull
my thicker-than-usual six-inch cock into their hot, wet snatch told me that
people think I'm handsome.  Hundreds of guys have thought so too.  They were
crazy for my looks and body.  Once I started flirting with the gay side during
my junior and senior years in college, guys were climbing all over me, begging
to eat my dick and ass and pleading with me to fuck them.  There weren't
hundreds whom I ended up dating - I wasn't a slut or whore.  Okay, I couldn't
deny that I've led an easy, blessed life.  It isn't 24-karat gold, however.
You still haven't figured me out.  Most people don't - except when they
interfere with my studies.  Then they find out about me right away.

My proudest possession isn't my GQ looks, my BMW, or my condo.  It's my
intelligence.  Based on my intelligence, love of scholarship and research, and
my grades, you could convict me of being conceited only in this area of my
life.  If I ever grooved on anything, it was my studies in high school and
especially college.  I loved feeling myself grow constantly in knowledge and
skill.  I loved knowing that I was accumulating knowledge that only a fraction
of the population possessed.  Even more, I loved using it to solve problems.

As soon as I graduated with a BS in Chemistry, my parents, who had always
focused on me, suddenly let go and threw themselves into their life.  They
were on the go constantly.  We were all grateful for their decision.  My dad
was a senior vice president at a downtown bank.  Yeah, you guessed it:  Mom
was an interior decorator - at Famous-Barr in The Galleria.  Since I'd declared
my intention to study for a graduate degree in chemistry at Washington
University - "Wash U," as it is known in the state, from which I'd earlier
graduated - they insisted on investing in a new condo in an upscale
neighborhood.  Good ole Dad checked out the resale variables before buying.
They didn't really ask me if I liked it.  How foolish of me to harbor such an
idea.  They were my parents, they loved me, we were making a good investment,
and it was time for me to mold my own life.  Without saying a word, we knew we
wanted our own spaces.  Of course, Mom saw to it that my condo was decorated
tastefully.  I knew she cared in her way.

Being a frat rat had ensured a social life if one wanted it.  I had joined
initially so that I wouldn't have to hunt a lot to find women to fuck.  People
knew not to mess with me when I said I had to study.  I'd graduated magna cum
laude, giving my parents a trump card to play at their endless round of
cocktail parties.  Having a big circle of friends was never a desire.
Actually, I had a reputation for being something of a loner, the reason I was
happy to have my own condo.  My position as a graduate research assistant
allowed me to spend hours in a research lab.  I loved it.  Time flew when I
was buried in lab work.  I'd spend the rest of my life in a lab.  'Who could
ask for more?' I thought.  Until he came along.

I didn't see "Hawk," as I started calling him, until three weeks later.  Very
much a creature of habit, I always shopped for the week's groceries early on
Saturday afternoon and always at the trendy neighborhood mega market.  At our
next encounter, he must have seen me first.  I had my grocery list flat in my
hand, trying to decipher what I had written one sleepy night before stumbling
off to bed after several hours of reading scientific articles on the stability
of nanoclusters.  I glanced up while I pondered whether my scribble was
supposed to read "chips" or "cheese" when I saw him standing there, looking me
over again. No Girl Friend.  She must still be at work.  I smiled at him, gave
him a five-second look, and then went back to my list.  In my peripheral
field, I saw him moving off in the opposite direction.  I slowly wheeled my
cart about and followed him.  Damn, those tight jeans showed off a mighty fine
ass!  I wished my hands were hanging onto that ass while he lay on top of me,
pumping us to ecstasy.

I tried to stay far enough behind Hawk so that he wouldn't catch on to my
tailing him.  So I was startled when I wheeled around the end of an aisle and
almost ran right into him.  He'd trapped me.  He'd gone around the corner and
then turned his cart around so that he'd be facing me.  We just stood there,
looking into each other's eyes.  Then I winked, saying, "Excuse me, Sir," and
wheeled around him.  I marveled at my cool behavior because I was feeling
anything but calm.  Our encounter excited me.  Fortunately, my erect cock
wasn't noticeable in the baggy shorts I was wearing.

I didn't need many more things to finish up grocery shopping, so I was soon
headed for the checkout lines.  As I was waiting, I saw him move up to a
cashier several lanes over and pay for his purchases.  My drinking Hawk in
with my eyes was interrupted by the debit card routine.  With my purchases
bagged and in a cart, I slowly walked to my black BMW, wondering where he'd
gone.  As I prepared to cross a lane in the parking lot, his blue Ford pickup
drifted almost silently by. Of course, I had to halt, giving me a chance to
study him.  As he passed me, he turned his head and made a kissing motion with
his lips!  My eyes were saucers!  He saw it, only the faintest hint of a smile
cracking that stony visage.  I watched him drive to the exit of the lot.  He
turned out into the right lane of traffic on the four-lane thoroughfare
without ever looking back.  Only then did I come to enough to ferry my
groceries to my car.

Boy, did Hawk have me asking lots of questions as I placed my sacks of
groceries in the trunk of my car!  Where was Girl Friend?  Surely he wouldn't
drive this far into the city to shop for groceries?  Unless . . . naw, he
hadn't driven all that way through traffic on I-55, then the dreaded I-270,
then I-64 on the off chance that he might see me?  'Dalton, get serious,' I
told myself.  Did his sending a kiss my way mean he liked me?  Was he just
teasing me?  Rubbing my face in it?  Getting even for my earlier sassy
behavior?  Getting the goat of the stud boy?

I racked my cart in the storage area, returned to my car, crawled inside, and
drove to the exit of the parking lot.  I turned in Hawk's direction because
that was the way to my condo.  I was still thinking plenty about Hot Hawk as
I slowed down at a stoplight.  I sat waiting for a green light, looking out
of my rearview mirror.  Hawk was two cars back in the lane on my left!  How
did he get back there when he left the parking lot before me?  He was looking
straight ahead.  Should I look back?  What would he do if I waved?  I might
spook him.  I decided to play it cool.  With a green light, I moved across the
intersection at a moderate rate.  I still had six blocks to go before I turned
right toward my condo.  When we hit a long stretch between traffic lights so
that cars were strung out a bit more, I saw Hawk shift into the lane behind me
three cars back.

When I reached my corner and turned down a side street, I continued my pace,
expecting to see in the rearview mirror that his pickup continued down the main
drag.  Wow! He turned the same corner!  Hawk was following me!  He had to be
wanting to see where I lived.  So I helped him.  I drove sedately to my condo,
opening the automatic garage door before I ever arrived there.  My Beemer slid
into the garage.  Before I could climb out of my car, Hawk rolled by slowly,
looking my condo over and looking at me in the garage.  I didn't turn around so
that he would know I'd tipped to what he was doing.  When he had passed, I
closed the garage door, popped the trunk and grabbed a couple of bags of
groceries, which I carried through the laundry and into the kitchen.  I
returned for the last of the groceries and carried them inside.  I started
putting the groceries away, thinking all the time about Hawk.

Suddenly, my front doorbell rang.  A smile filled my face.  Aw come on now!
The Fates aren't that benevolent.  I kicked my sandals off just inside the
kitchen door as I walked through the dining room to the front door.  I looked
out the peephole.  Okay, no matter what you think about me, you know my breath
caught and my heart hammered when I saw Hawk, standing on my front porch, his
hands jammed in the back pockets of his jeans, looking all around.  His blue
pickup was parked at the curb.

I took a deep breath and opened the door, just standing there, smiling as soon
as I saw him through the glass screen door.  He didn't react at all.  Just
looked at me in his somber way.  As I pushed the door out to let him in, he
reached out and grabbed my arm, pushing me inside and up against the wall of
the foyer, taking my breath away.  I wondered if I'd misread the guy.  Because
he'd just sent me a kiss through the air, I didn't think he was angry with me.
So what was this all about?

He used his booted foot to push the door closed while he mashed his lips on
mine.  Damn!  Surprised as I was, I loved this.  His moustache tickled.  His
lips were warm. He smelled like a man wearing some kind of pine aftershave.  I
brought my arms around him, sliding them down his back and across that narrow,
mounded ass.  Oh, Man!  Were the muscles in that ass hard!  Meanwhile, our
kiss was steamy.  We were tonguing each other like crazy.  I grabbed his
sleeveless jacket and pulled it from his shoulders.  I jerked his tee out of
his jeans and slid my hand up inside, feeling what had to be short hair up his
stomach to his sculpted pecs.  I caressed his hard nipples with my fingertips.
He kept nipping my bottom lip, pulling it a little toward him, quickly running
his tongue over mine while our mouths were still open before backing out of
reach of mine.  He liked to play!  Then he delivered another hot kiss.

Hawk broke the kiss, reaching up and none too gently jerking my tee over my
head, ruffling my hair.  I didn't have a sculpted chest, just square, mostly
flat pecs with thin-line definition, lightly sprinkled with brown hair.  I had
little brown nipples and aureoles, but when I was aroused, the nipples really
peaked.

I slid another hand under his tee and pushed it up and over his head.  He had
to drop his arms for me to pull it off.  Hawk's belly was absolutely flat,
sporting a lot of short, dark brown hair.

Apparently it was his turn, for he grabbed my belt, jerked it open, popped the
button on my cargoes expertly, and let them fall to the floor, immediately
grabbing the hardening mound in my boxer briefs.  I tried the same with his
jeans, feeling that huge belt buckle banging against my fingers as I wrestled
with the button in the tight waist.  His boot jeans were so tight that I had to
kneel down and peel them down his hairy, muscular legs.  I let out a little
"Oh" of delight as I filled both hands with hairy calves and then hard,
muscular, hairy thighs.  His tighty-whities were right in front of my eyes
with a very respectable bulge in the front.  I opened my mouth and shoved it
down over the mound, biting carefully, only enough to tease and stimulate, not
hurt.  He groaned, rubbing his strong hands through my hair, apparently not
bothered by the stiff, gelled strands.  His musk made me take a deep breath.

I pulled his jockeys down.  He had a little more pubic hair than I, and his
cock must have been an inch longer but was no fatter.  His sac of balls was a
little larger than mine.  Hawk suddenly pulled me up.  "Out of'm," he said
curtly.  I peeled myself out of my boxer briefs, while he watched.  This man's
golden brown eyes were amazing.  They almost never revealed any emotion - just
fire when he was excited.  How could he keep Girl Friend interested if he never
revealed what he was feeling?  Or maybe he did with her?  I was turned on to
the max.  Other than the hard mound in his briefs and his forceful maneuvers,
he didn't seem to be excited at all.

"Out of'm!" I repeated his order.  But he took my hands and placed them on his
hips, meaning I was to remove them.  I wasn't certain where this was leading.
I was used to guys following my lead, used to controlling the situation.  I
slipped my hands under the back elastic band, feeling them slide over a warm,
lightly haired ass.  I groaned happily.  Then I peeled his briefs down his
hairy legs.  Those muscles were a turn on because I knew they'd been shaped by
hard labor.  He jerked me up and laid a kiss on me so hot that my toes curled.
He mashed his mouth into mine, grinding his cock into mine at the same time.
I hated it that I was trembling.  I wanted to act as cool as he.

I had to taste that cock, so I pulled myself out of his arms and down so that I
was staring at the flared head.  Actually, his cock tube was wider than the
head, but it still wasn't bullet-shaped.  I took it in my hand, feeling a
tremor move from my hand to my groin as I felt the soft skin stretched over
that steely tube.  I lifted his cock up to begin licking his balls.  His spicy,
musky scent made my nostrils flare, and an odd little sound moved up from deep
in my throat.  I licked from his balls up to his cock as he placed his fingers
in my hair, running them through it and caressing my head.  As I continued
licking up and down and around his dick, I looked up into those golden hawk
eyes.  They were betraying no emotion.  I know mine revealed the unusual hunger
he'd generated in me the first time I saw him.

I'd maybe been licking his cock and balls, pubic hair and his perineum just
back behind his solid balls only a couple of minutes when he moved his hands
down to my shoulders and pushed me so that I landed on the oriental carpet on
my back.  He pulled his boots and white cotton socks off before pulling his
jeans over his feet.  I used the time to pull my briefs and cargo shorts over
my feet.  Then he took two steps and flung himself around over me, so that I
was staring up at that shiny, spit-polished dick with those exciting thighs on
either side of my head.

He lost no time moving his nose around my cock and small ball sac, sniffing
loudly as he moved.  His rough whiskers ramped up my arousal exponentially so
that I immediately started moaning.  I couldn't help it - no man had turned me
on the way Hawk did.  He slid his tongue under my cock, using it to lift my
dick up and into his mouth.  He wasn't experienced in sucking cock, for his
teeth scraped my dick a couple of times, but it was actually arousing.  He was
running his tongue around my cock because that was what I was doing to him.
I tightened my lips around his tube, jerking them back toward that flared head
by small increments, lashing my tongue all around his cock.  He replicated my
technique.  He'd turned our suck into a tutorial, so I resolved that we'd
cover all the possibilities that our present arrangement allowed.

I reached up and pulled his ass down, moving my nose up into his lightly haired
crack.  He hesitated following my lead, but I didn't stop.  I was sniffing
loudly.  Again, his musky, spicy scent evoked an involuntary moan from me.  I
started tonguing around his hole.  He'd paused, probably reveling in the
pleasure.  I hoped he liked it.  He'd probably never had this done to him
before.  It seemed a virtual certainty that he'd never done it to anyone.

Suddenly, I felt him pulling my legs back to get at my ass.  The feeling of
those rough whiskers sliding into my crack nearly made me lose it on the spot
as I called out my passion.  He answered with one of his own!  I felt a rush of
happiness.  He was finding pleasure with me!  We were working together,
sharing.  It was probably a dopey response on my part, but I couldn't help it.
This man was coming to mean more to me than anyone ever had.  I had an
intimation that I wished it were simply a matter of lust, but even then in my
heart I knew it was much more than a case of the hots.

When I ran my tongue through the hair around his hole, he jerked as I tasted
his sweat and musk.  I nearly lost it again.  Now he was tonguing my hole, but
those whiskers were driving me delightfully crazy.  This whisker burn I would
enjoy!

I think he must have felt my trembling.  I was turned on to the max.  I knew I
didn't have long to last - it was too hot, too pleasurable, too surprising.  I
quickly wet two fingers in my mouth, using the fingertip of one to circle his
hole.  I liked the tickle my finger recorded from the hair there.  To give him
time to adjust to what was coming, since he was so new to ass play, I made
gentle pushing motions with my fingertip on his hole.  He tentatively started
doing the same with me.  I popped the end of one finger through his sphincter
and inside, moaning again as I felt the hot, tight interior.  Then I moved
back to the head of his cock, taking it into my mouth and running my tongue
over it as I pushed my finger in to the next knuckle.

Hawk had just gotten enough nerve to push his finger through my sphincter.
When I saw those gnarled muscular hands with veins snaking down them in my
mind's eye, my ass involuntarily arose.  Whoa!  Unceremoniously, he shoved his
entire finger into my ass.  So I did the same to him.  He jumped, realizing
that it shouldn't be an operation as direct as pounding nails.  I felt the
fingers of his other hand, the one holding his weight, gently caress my ass
cheek, apologizing for not being considerate.  I returned the gesture to
indicate that all was forgiven.

I noticed the thighs on either side of my head trembling.  I knew neither of
us was going to last long, so I quickly but gently moved my second finger into
him.  By that time, he had his mouth back on my cock too.  I put a super suck
on his dick while I was pumping my fingers in and out of his hot ass.  A good
pupil, he replicated my movements, pushing me closer to climax.  I was going
to cum soon.  Should I warn him?  Since he'd followed me so carefully every
step of the way and since I intended to drink his load, I decided just to nut.
If he wanted to pull off, he could.

As I thrust my fingers into him, I felt for his prostate.  I knew when I found
it because his knees jumped up from the carpet.  That hound dog immediately
began to thrust about for mine as though he were digging for treasure.  My legs
shot apart when he hit it.  Since I was thrusting my fingers against his
prostate, he did the same to me.  Man!  I was there.  I moaned to let him know.
I heard a moan from him.  Suddenly my ass shot up, pushing my cock deeper into
his throat, jets of cum shooting out of my cock into his mouth, which he kept
locked on my cock.  His powerful ass jammed his cock into my throat where it
immediately started to fire.  No way was I going to miss tasting my lover's
cum, so I pushed him back a little while I pulled back to let his cum shoot
into my mouth.  I loved his taste - smooth and sweet.  Must have been all
that precum that had been filling his tubes during his drive into the city.

I made little noises like a baby sucking at its mother's breast as I swallowed
his cum.  Gradually, we slowed.  He let my cock fall from his mouth as he
jerked his fingers from my ass.  I disengaged from him more gently, but I knew
what was happening.  The male lovemaking in which he had engaged - and
liked - was a total departure from any sex he'd ever had.  Now he had to face
not only what he'd done but also his enjoyment of it.  He rolled onto his back
to the side of me.

I thought he'd jump up and flee, but he surprised me.  He rolled up on his arm
and planted his mouth on mine, demanding that the ardor of his kiss be matched
by mine.  It was more than matched.  I'd never felt anything like I felt with
Hawk.  Rumblings sounded deep within my being - I'd have my struggle with this
too.  Hawk had put me in a situation with a man that I'd never occupied.  I'd
needed sex, but I'd never NEEDED a particular man.  Never needed his attention,
approval, appreciation, love.  Now I did.  I was going to have to accommodate
to what that said about me, something I'd never addressed before.

I could smell my ass on his face and taste it on his tongue, and I knew he
could smell his on mine.  He kissed me four times, gently brushing my cheek
with his calloused fingers.  I'd placed my arms around him as we kissed.  He
pulled out of them gently, looked down at me, and then arose, looking around
for his jockeys.  "Are you going to be okay?" I asked.  He didn't answer.
Just started dressing.

I lay there watching his clothes gradually cover up that hot body.  Was I
being rejected?  Was this the last we'd ever be together?  Damn!  After the
delights he'd given me, I didn't even want to consider the prospect that I
wouldn't see him again.  "Just so you know," I said, "that is the best sex
I've ever had.  You are the hottest man to whom I've ever made love.  I'm not
saying this to offend you.  I just want you to know what a major turn-on
you are."

He never looked at me.  "What's your name?" I asked.

"What's yours?" he repeated.

"Dalton Winfield, III."  He stopped, looking at me for 30 seconds, though I
couldn't imagine what he'd heard that slowed his controlled flight from me.
It was like he'd only then noticed that I had two heads.  "So what's your
name?" I asked again.

"What do you think it is?"

"I've been calling you 'Hawk.'"

He snorted out a chuckle.  "That'll do."

He'd been sitting on the floor pulling his boots on.  He arose, ready to leave,
standing over me.  He reached down with his hand, pulling me roughly up into a
hug.  "Well, Dalton Winfield, III, this is the ONLY sex I've had with a man.
While he mashed his lips against mine in a breathtaking kiss, he pulled me into
an embrace so tight I wondered if he'd crack one of my ribs.  Then he pushed me
back, walking to the door, opening it, walking through and pulling it shut
behind him.  I dashed to the peephole, watching him walk to his pickup.  He
never looked back, not even when he was driving away.

I walked to my clothes, but sort of flopped to the carpet, rolling over on my
back, remembering the afternoon's astounding events.  My spirits had me sailing
on air, for I'd found the man I'd always wanted.  And I was majorly down
because I had no indication that I'd ever see him again.

                                     ***
In the month that followed Hawk's blitzkrieg into my life, for that's what it
was, I had to fight to reclaim the cognitive space that had been devoted solely
to my studies and research.  I wanted only to think of him and replay for the
128th time our interlude in the foyer.  He had broken through my cultivated
social, personal, and scholarly ramparts and turned me molten inside.  After
four weeks, I was tired of working out all the permutations of the vectors
between Hawk and Girl Friend and Hawk and me and his world and our world.  I
knew he was sitting home, stewing about what had happened, beating up on
himself for taking a walk on the wild side.  No matter how upbeat I tried to
be, I couldn't see anything but my losing him.

I was zealous about shopping punctually on Saturday afternoons at the same time
we'd bumped into each other at the mega market, but I never encountered Hawk
or Girl Friend.  When I was home, I'd foolishly walk to the front door to look
out the peephole, hoping to see that blue pickup parked at the curb.  When I
drove to campus or around town, I'd study all the vehicles about me, getting
excited anytime I saw a blue pickup.  With the passage of each week, my worry
increased.

By week four, I was depressed.  Even Dr. Robin Masterson, the principal
investigator in our research project and my boss, commented on it.  I was just
a lowly grad student, so I didn't think anyone would notice.  "Dalton, you're
keeping long hours at the lab.  Don't you have a life?"

I smiled.  "Yeah, I guess.  I told you how much I love the lab, research."

"I've made it my life's work," Robin said, "but even I know I'll lose my edge
in the lab if I don't balance life here with other aspects of life outside the
lab."  I said nothing, continuing with my work.  "Usually this kind of behavior
means romance aborning or romance unrequited," she ventured.

I looked up at her, smiling.  "You just told on yourself.  You've been humming
around here for several weeks.  Now we know it's due to moonlight and roses,"
I shot back, chuckling.

Robin playfully punched me in the shoulder.  "Don't even try to imagine it.
It's so 'X' rated that you're too young to handle it."  I DID laugh right out
loud at her rejoinder.

Up to that point, that laugh with Robin was the high point of the month.
During that time, I was either in class, in the lab, or in my condo.  Except
for shopping, I did nothing else  - well, I jerked off a lot thinking about
Hawk.  It wasn't just sex.  I could get that any hour I wanted with women
and hot men.  When Hawk and I had been together, something more profound
occurred.  From the signs I'd observed, it was the same for him too.

On the fourth Saturday afternoon, I was grocery shopping again, not really
expecting anything.  Hawk and I saw each other at the same time.  This time
Girl Friend was pushing the cart.  Surprise, hunger, and apprehension guided my
eyes over his hot frame.  He read my feelings accurately too.  However, I
could read nothing in his golden eyes or face.  He shifted his eyes from mine,
moving up and placing an arm around her waist.  I moved a little on down the
aisle toward them to allow a shopper's cart to pass between ours.  He leaned
down and kissed her, drawing the kiss out a little.  When they broke it, she
pulled back in surprise, a little color in her cheeks.  Such behavior wasn't
common in a trendy supermarket in Clayton, so he'd obviously done it to make a
statement to me.  Girl Friend chuckled nervously.  "Dale," she whispered,
"you're the one who insisted that we come to the supermarket now.  If you
wanted that, why didn't you let us stay home?  We could have come to the
supermarket anytime."

Hawk, no "Dale," I guess, smiled down at her, gave her a peck, whispered, "Just
wait until we get home," then put his hand on hers on the cart and pushed them
away from me.

The full realization of what had just transpired hit me in the gut.  I couldn't
help it - my eyes teared up.  He'd planned this meeting.  The only uncertainty
was whether I'd be at the supermarket at that precise time.  He didn't even
really doubt that.  He'd pushed her to come to the supermarket at just this
time in order to act out that little scene for me.  It was a rejection.  Not
even a good-bye, glad to know you, all that stuff.  It hurt.  He'd meant it to
hurt.  He wanted to ensure, maybe, that if his resolve ever weakened, he'd
burnt the bridge back to me.  I cut my shopping short, moving to the check out
lines like a zombie.  I never looked for them as I checked out and went to my
car.

Hawk/Dale and I would never connect again.

                                    ***
It had been looking stormy all day, so it was no surprise that evening when
lightning flamed across the sky, setting off powerful rumbles overhead.  Rain
was pouring down.  As always happens in the city during a storm, sirens were
wailing in the distance as emergency personnel sped to work traffic
accidents or attend to fires caused by lightning.  I was doing research in my
study for a paper in one of my courses.  The doorbell broke my concentration.

I arose and walked down the stairs to the first floor.  I realized that I had
on only a bright blue thong, what remained after I shed my clothes when I
arrived home from the lab.  I didn't bother to analyze my penchant for wearing
thongs after Hawk dumped me.  I acknowledged some Freudian import to the
behavior and let it go at that.  So I shrugged my shoulders at my state of
undress.  Anyone coming to my door this time of night probably wouldn't care
what I was wearing.  I'd stand behind the door so they could see only my face.
While reaching that resolution, I forgot to check out the peephole as I
customarily do, throwing the door open while I stood there in plain sight.
Hawk was standing on the other side of the glass screen door, his hair
glistening with rain, his clothes wet from the pouring rain, his head down.
Other than that posture, I couldn't tell his mood.

'What the hell does he want after that scene at the supermarket,' I thought to
myself.  I opened the door.  "Hi," I said quietly.  He looked up.  Immediately
I saw fire in his eyes as he studied my body.  I pushed the door toward him
and stood back.  "Come in."

He walked in front of me.  "Don't you have any clothes?" he asked a little
petulantly.

"I'm doing research.  When I do that, I want to be comfortable.  You come
knocking at people's doors at night, you better be ready to accept what you
find," I replied tartliy, letting him know he was on my turf now.  I stared
right back in his golden eyes.

I led the way to the living room.  I wanted him to have a good look at my ass.
One table lamp dispelled only a little of the darkness in the room.

He walked to a sofa, sitting on one end.  I walked to the other end, sitting
Indian style as I turned toward him.  Then I waited as thunder rumbled around
overhead.

"I think I'm coming unglued," Dale said softly.

"That little scene you staged at the supermarket suggests that you are quite
in control.  You aren't coming unglued."

"Can you explain what's happening to me?"

I sat there for a minute, pondering how one would answer that question.  "I
need a little more information before I could even attempt that."  He shook
his head back and forth in frustration.

I relented.  "Okay, let's start with what we know.  You wanted me.  If you're
feeling unglued and you're here now, I think you still do want me.  You know
I want you.  You need me, but you desire to be free of these wants and needs.
I need you, and I don't want to be free from you.  Our worlds and backgrounds
are so different that only indirectly could they have contributed to creating
these needs.  You also want a relationship with Girl Friend."

"Kathy," he stated simply.

"You want and need something with Kathy.  But her world and background are
different from yours.  There are women like Kathy and men like me in your
world.  The least that can be said is that you are seeking something outside
your world.  Why?  The world you came from surely has to be more comfortable."

Dale thought.  "It's like there was no air to breathe in my world.  I needed
to breathe.  You can't live if you don't breathe."

"Do you in fact breathe easier in Clayton and the city?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Silence.  "I haven't figured that out."

Surely he knew, given the feelings to which he'd just admitted, that he
preferred our world because of the anonymity that it afforded him.  "Do you
breathe easier with Kathy or Dalton?"  I had decided I might get answers
sooner if I referred to myself in the third person.

Dale squirmed in his chair.  He wasn't going to answer.

"You don't have to give me an answer, but it's part of the key to what's
happening to you. . . . Is sex better with Kathy or Dalton?"  He blushed.

"Again, this is a key to what's happening to you. . . . With which of us do
you feel most alive?  Most at peace?"

I could tell that he was thinking, but he had no answer that he was prepared
to offer.

"Have you ever left your world to latch onto a man or woman?"

"A woman."

"Would you leave your world completely for Kathy?"

"Yes.  That's what I hoped was happening - until I met you."

"Did you ever leave your world to find a man like me?"

"No.  I don't think I expected what happened with us."

"Did you ever want to be involved with a man?"

He waited a long time to reply.  "I'd thought of it sometimes, mostly just
out of curiosity."

"Would you leave your world for me?"  No answer.

"Are you afraid of Kathy?"

"No."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I can't control how much I want you."

"Is it just lust?"

"I wish it was that simple."

"Is that bad?"

"If it's just sex, I can stay in control of myself."  He paused for half a
minute.  "If it's more than sex, I won't be in control of myself.  Then I
won't know who I'll be."

"Could it be possible that you'll transcend to a higher, happier, better you?"
Silence.  "Isn't it that kind of possibility that drove you to leave your
world to seek something here in the city?"  No answer.

"Is it safe to say that, when you left your world to find Kathy, you were
giving up control?"  He was thinking about the question.

"You would agree you certainly gave up some control when you followed me
home?"  He shook his head in frustration, but it was tantamount to agreement.

"Have you been unhappy when you were in my company?"  He shook his head in
the negative.  "Is it only when you aren't with me that you are unhappy about
us?"  He slowly shook his head yes.

"Have you been hurt with me?"  A long pause.

"I don't think so," Dale mumbled.

"Do you like it when we're together?"

A smile flickered around the edges of his mouth.  "Yeah, I really like it,"
Dale said.

"Would you say we're having sex or making love?"

The smile fled.  "You referred to making love in there," he said, nodding
toward the foyer.  "Would you still say that?" he asked, lobbing the ball back
in my court.

"The more we're together, the more I'd say 'making love.'"

Dale looked away.  "Me too, I guess."

We looked at each other for several beats.  "What's happening is you reached
for something that promised you life, breath, fulfillment because you were not
going to find it in your world.  You followed desire right to here where you
are now.  But you can't do that without changing.  In particular, you have to
adjust to this new world.  Then adjust to Kathy and me.  Then maybe just one
of us.  I guess it's brought you to a point of decision, which was inevitable.
You are resisting the decision because you're afraid.  That's understandable.
Maybe you are rushing to a decision.  Is there any particular reason you have
to make it now?"

"I feel like I'm caught in a vise."

"Can you continue with both Kathy and me for a while?"

"I don't think so.  Would you wait for me?"

I knew then that he wanted me, not Kathy.  The decision would have been easy to
go with her.  But he was in turmoil.  He hadn't worked out an accommodation to
where his heart was moving him.  At the same time, I couldn't tell him what to
do.  He had to make a decision and commit to it.  "I'll wait.  But I have needs
and desires too.  I have to breathe too.  I can't if I'm caught in a vacuum,
which is where I've been since your last visit here.  It will fill with someone
eventually. . . . You need to think about this possibility.  If I can help,
let me know."

He arose and walked out of the living room to the front door.  I was right
behind him.  When he turned to speak to me, I was ready.  I pulled him into a
tight embrace and kissed him hot and hard.  The suddenness and power of my
move on him made him suck in breath loudly, but he kissed back.  He couldn't
help it, something flaming up inside him.  His hands lost no time in moving to
my ass, running over its curves, slipping a finger under the string at the
back of the thong and following it into my crack.  Then he was rubbing his
finger around my hole.  He was breathing loudly through his nose while he was
kissing me.  His body couldn't hold still - he was sort of walking us backward
and forward.  When we broke the kiss, he turned and left.  As I watched him
return to his pickup, I saw him raise the finger that had played with my hole
to his nose and sniff.  He kept it there, smelling it all the way to the
driver's side of the pick up as the rain fell upon him.  This time he did
look back at the front door.  Once he'd started the pickup moving forward, he
looked back another time.
                                   ***
Two weeks had passed since Hawk's last visit.  On the second Friday night, I
was still hopeful, sitting at the dinner table, sipping a glass of merlot and
surveying the ruins of the simple dinner I'd prepared.  I was planning my visit
to the supermarket tomorrow, thinking that he might make an appearance there
since he could count on my being there at the usual time.  I was pondering
whether I should wear my usual weekend gear or something more seductive - tank
top, filmy running shorts slit up the side, anklets and white tennis shoes.
I snickered, imagining reactions if I wore a tank top and a thong.  Again the
doorbell rang.  My jaw dropped a little, wondering if it could be Dale.

To maintain control, I set my wine glass down slowly and walked to the door at
the same speed.  I checked the peephole.  Dale!  I slowly opened the door,
watching him shift his weight from one booted foot to another.  He looked
stunning in a white tee and those tight jeans.

Dale walked in.  "Bedroom!" he ordered.  I tried to take his hand to lead him
there, but he pulled it from mine, so I led the way up the stairs to the master
bedroom.

In the bedroom, I pulled back the spread and covers.  "Strip," he ordered, as
he began pulling one of his boots off.  I couldn't help it.  I was smiling so
big that my jaw felt as though it would break.  It took me no time to shed my
tee, cargoes, thong, and sandals.  "Lube," he said.  I crawled across the bed
to the nightstand, pulling out a tube and handing it to him.  He rolled me
over on my back, just looking at me.

He crawled on the bed, standing over me on his knees, reaching down and
running his rough fingertips through the little bit of hair that spread up
above my cock for an inch before winging upward in the groove between my solar
plexus and legs.  Then those rough fingers gently caressed my small, tight
ball sac.  If I was embarrassed about any of my features, my balls were it.
Didn't seem like I had much.  A line ran down the center of my bag with
crosshatch lines running across that.  He used the end of his index fingers
to trace those lines slowly, sending my cock into granite mode.

He fell on me in a passionate kiss.  He'd dropped the lube beside us so that
he could slide his arms under my back.  For my part, my hands swooped around
him to massage those glorious globes of his ass.  Then my fingers darted inside,
delivering little tickles with the ends of my fingernails, grabbing the hair
there and gently tugging on it.  Aha!  I'd managed to set that ass awiggle!
Triumph!

Of course, Dale had set my ass awiggle too.  In what was shaping up to be a
contest of wills, I was writhing in pleasure while communicating to him that
he had that much control over me.  So I upped the ante.  Rolling him over, I
reared up and spread his hairy ass cheeks, licking up the very inner sides of
his crack.  I felt his thigh muscles tightening, causing me to smile.  His ass
smelled great!  The spicy smell of his crotch was heavier here.  I couldn't
help it.  I had to rub my face in Hawk!  When I suddenly jammed my tongue
against his pucker, I earned a little grunt of delight from him, pleasing me
immensely.  I attacked his hole mercilessly with my tongue and then lightly
with my teeth.  He brushed his stubble across my ass and then across my cock
and balls.  My back arched.  I cried out in delight.

"What are you complaining about?" he asked sassily as he threw himself back
around over me so that he was looking down into my face.  I smiled back,
placing my hand on the back of his neck and pulling him down into a hot kiss.
I knew he was getting off smelling his butt on me as I was smelling mine on
him.  He reared up out of the kiss, his golden eyes clouded.  I reached up for
him again, but he grabbed my wrists and slammed them on the mattress.  He knew
he wanted to say something.  He just didn't know how to express it.  "You knew
last time that I'm not experienced."  He paused again his eyes darting around
my body and then the bedroom.  He knee walked to the edge of the bed and stood
down from it, running his right hand over his head.  He started pacing around
the large bedroom.  I sat up on the bed, realizing that the more he paced, the
bigger his confession or whatever he had to spit out was going to be.

"I did something that I have to tell you about.  I'm afraid you'll think it
threatens us.  I really hope it doesn't."  More pacing.  "I knew I was going
to let Kathy go. . . . Don't worry; she didn't know what she was going to do
with me anyway.  I was like an antique that caught her eye in a shop on Euclid
Avenue.  At home, she discovered that it didn't quite fit in anyplace.  It
looked good in the shop, but it didn't look the same in her living room.  We
met at a wedding reception in South County.  We were attracted to each other.
It was a nice fling, but I knew she really didn't want to make room in her
life for me.  After I left here that rainy night, I had to find out if my
feelings were caused by you or by my liking male sex.  So I went to a gay
bar here that I'd heard about.  I didn't have any trouble getting picked up.
I went home with this college guy and we had sex."

I suddenly felt cold inside.  I scooted to the side of the bed, grabbing my
cargoes and pulling them on.  Dale rushed to me, grabbing my upper arms.
"No, no, no - it's not like that.  It's not bad for you," he said as I
struggled to break loose from his hold.  "PLEASE!" he yelled, halting my
struggles.  But I wouldn't look at him, so he threw his arms around me and
pulled me up against him.

"Just listen," he said softly.  "I didn't care anything about that guy.  I was
physically attracted to him, but we just had sex. . . I know now what you meant
when you asked me if I thought we were just having sex or making love before.
I know the difference now," he said with some heat.  "It was just like it was
with Kathy after I saw you.  We just went through the motions.  Even when I
shot, it was just like I was only getting rid a load.  Oh, yeah, you shoot a
load, it's going to feel good in your cock, but afterwards, you're just
empty."  He paused, struggling it seems for an explanation.  "It's like
stuffing yourself with Chinese food - you're full, but an hour later, you
feel empty again.  With Kathy and that guy, it didn't even take an hour for
me to figure it out.  All the things you make me feel were missing.  I knew
then that I truly love you.  It wasn't just sex with a woman or with a man.
It was you, Dalton . . . YOU!  I love you," he said as he pulled me into such
a hot kiss that the strength in my legs began to fail.  He just pulled me
tighter to him.

"Are we okay?" he asked worriedly, pulling back and staring deep into my soul.

I was surprised how rapidly I was able to process what he had just told me.  I
was the kind of person who would have to think through it during a later quiet
moment, but I knew that, when he went looking for that guy, he was looking for
verification of his love of me, not a substitute for me.  A devilish moment
seized me. "That depends on how well you make love to me now."

I thought he'd laugh.  He didn't, frowning, tossing his head.  "You know I'm
not very experienced.  When it comes to fucking a guy, I've only been with the
college boy.  It happened fast - he just sat down on my dick and pumped himself
up and down.  He didn't last long at all.  So I'll just be feeling my way along
with you."  He brushed his lips across mine several times, pulling back when I
tried to kiss him.  "But know this, I want to make love to you so well that
you'll think you're a new person."  Here he grinned mischievously.  "You'll
feel so different, so loved, that we'll have to add another numeral to the end
of your name."  I couldn't help it.  I roared out a laugh.  When I'd recovered,
he rested his forehead against mine.  "Don't hold it against me that I'm
going to be a little awkward.  Give me some time to learn how to do it really
good for you."  Then he kissed me softly, pushing me back to the bed.  He
pulled me around, loosening the button on my cargoes.  I hadn't had time to
zip them up, so they immediately fell to my feet.  He pushed me back gently on
the bed, falling on top of me.  Air "ooomphed" out of me, but I loved his
weight bearing down on me.  He immediately moved to a kiss that seared my soul.

Our cocks had grown hard again.  I was running my hands rapidly over his
lightly haired ass, his back, and down the backs of his thighs.  Then I ran my
fingers down into his crack, brushing across his hole.  "Remember," he warned,
"you're the one who's going to get fucked."

"I just know how you old guys are," I said seriously.  "We studs have to do
anything we can to help you keep it up long enough to get us off."

He grinned wickedly, bending down and biting a nipple, evoking a delighted
little scream from me.  He then pulled back on his knees, pushing my legs back
toward my shoulders as he savaged my ass and hole with his brushy whiskers,
setting me wiggling every direction, trying to escape him.  But I loved the
feeling.  He'd started making love to my hole, tonguing it, biting it, kissing
it.  He handed me the lube.  "Here, make yourself useful."

I decided that two could play this game.  I sat up, so he rose up higher so
that his cock was fairly close to me.  I leaned down, sliding my mouth just
behind his flare and biting down none too gently.  I heard him gasp.  Then I
attacked his cap with my tongue while I squeezed lube on my fingers.  Pulling
back, I SLOWLY ran just my fingertips down his dick.  I could see his ass
wiggling a little, so I knew it was good for him.  I kept it up, slowly
coating his dick.  Finally, I heard a little whimper escape him.  He grabbed
my hand so that it closed about his dick and rubbed it up and down his cock,
smearing it with lube. When he let go of my hand, I swiped down and coated his
ball sac with lube too.

He grabbed my legs, pushing them halfway back to my shoulders, looking at me
and then his cock.  I took hold of it, holding it steady as he moved it near
my hole.  When it touched my hole, my back suddenly arched and I moaned.  He
liked that reaction, grinning.  So he started teasing my hole with he head of
his cock, making little pushing movements.  I fixed my eyes on his as I pushed
my ass against his cock, which shot halfway into my chute while his eyebrows
shot up and he gasped.  I immediately clamped down with my ass muscles, making
him groan while he threw his head back.  Slowly, his head came back looking
at me, his eyes glazed with pleasure.  He jammed his cock into me, which made
me arch my back again.  Damn!  What was this?  I'd never had any sexual
intercourse like this.  It was like we were boxers in a ring, each
taking turns giving the other our best punch in order to flatten the other.

When he was fully jammed into me, I again grabbed that hard cock with my ass
muscles and moved my ass in a circle on his cock.  He cried out:  "Oh . . .
oh . . . oh shit!"  He was trembling.  Before I could exult, he jammed even
deeper, moving his hips in a circle, his cock touching places in me that I
didn't know existed.  I cried out with an "Urghghghghghghg!"  Again, he
grinned triumphantly, his eyes afire.  Synchronizing my movements, I reached
up and pinched and twisted his nipples hard at the same time I jammed my ass
hard against him.  We both cried out, for his hard cock ran across my prostate,
making precum spout out of my dick.  Then we went for the kill.  He started
jamming his cock into me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist.  We were
struggling, sweating, cursing, crying out, climbing to our orgasm faster than
we wanted.  But neither of us would give way to the other.  My voice was
rising in a wail as I felt my orgasm coming on.  He was voicing breathy grunts.
Suddenly come flashed from my dick, falling on my lower stomach and on his
crotch.  The heat of my cum on him must have been the trigger, for his cock
expanded enormously in me as he cried out.  I continued wailing as cum shot
out of my dick, falling onto my stomach.  Even in the midst of his climax, he
swiped his hand across me, collecting my come and swiping it over his stomach
and chest, then tasting it.

We collapsed.  He lay atop me gasping for breath as I was gasping for air
beneath him.  After a minute he raised his head and kissed me hard.  I slid my
hands from his ass up his back to the back of his head, kissing him back with
equal fervor.

"So what do you have to say, Lover?" he asked, grinning.

"Meet Dalton Winfield, XV," I replied, jiggling against him as I chuckled.  He
joined me in laughter.

"That good, huh?" he said.

"Well . . . it's only the first stage of your training.  You aren't anywhere
near Olympic level yet."  He laughed, rolling a little to the side and taking
me with him so that he could deliver a slap to my ass.

Then we started whispering our love for each other interspersed among kisses.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"What's wrong with 'Hawk?'"

"I want to hear your real name, react to it, feel a thrill run through me when
I hear it."

He reached his arms around me.  "Dale Gardiner," he answered.

"It happened.  Ran right down right down my spine when I heard your name."

"I know.  I felt it.  When I showed up here that rainy night and spilled my
guts to you . . ."

"Spilled your guts?  It was more like pulling teeth to get any information
out of you."

He grinned, stopping my heart.  "Made you work for it, did I?"

"Asshole," I replied.

"With that thong you were wearing that night, 'asshole' fit YOU better."

Now I grinned, hoping his heart stopped.  "Got to you, did it?"

"It made the expression 'crawling into your pants' almost meaningless."

Throwing my head back, I laughed in glee at that point.  "Maybe we need to go
shopping for some thongs for you?"

"Maybe," he smiled seductively.  "So what are you willing to give up for me?"

"What?"

"You kept going on that night about what I was willing to give up control over
for Kathy and then for you.  What are you willing to give up for me."  I was
trying to figure out where he was going with this new line of conversation.
"For instance, would you give up your Beemer?"

"It's yours."

"This condo."

"Is there enough room in your bed for me wherever you live?"

"Your research."

I paused.  "If I give that up, I give up something that defines me.  Then I
won't be the person I am now.  So you'll be giving that up.  Is that what you
want?"

"Am I going to be like an antique in your life?" he asked.

"Impossible.  When you left wherever you live, you acted on a desire to live
in the city.  You like being here.  I'm a loner.  I have no real circle of
friends you have to fit into.  My life's pretty simple.  My parents have their
own life, and they are quite happy to allow me to have my own.  Whatever you
do to make a living, it doesn't have to fit into what I do.  We'll find
activities and interests that we share.  We have an entire metropolitan area
to explore to find them.

Now he grinned.  "So why haven't you asked me to move in with you?  Afraid of
what Mom and Dad might say?"

"I can see it now.  I invite them to dinner to meet you.  While we're having
cocktails, I introduce you as my partner.  Dad will pause bending his elbow to
bring his bourbon and water to his lips, staring at me, then you, wondering
what implications this will have on the total money picture in our family.
Mom will pause in sipping her chardonnay, trying to gauge the effect this will
have on their friends.  Then Dad will hold out his hand and welcome you into
the family.  Mom will place her hand on yours, smile at you, and repeat Dad's
welcome."

"Oh?" he said, surprised by my answer, expecting to hear about my parents'
wrath, I guess.

"So you take me to your family and introduce me as your partner.  What will
happen?" I turned the tables.

Dale didn't smile back.  "Why do you think I wanted to leave my world?  Dad
would swear.  Probably get up and stomp out of the house.  Mom would bawl.
My brothers would sneer.  Their wives would hide their smiles, maybe their
satisfaction, behind their hands because they know they are regarded as being
on the fringe in the family.  All but one of my sisters would gasp, reaching
for their Bibles to convince me to change my ways or suffer the torments of
Hell.  My brothers-in-law would quit talking to me.  They'd all treat you
coldly the rest of the dinner.  Tell me not to bring you back.  Maybe tell me
not to come back until I got rid of you and got that damned silliness out of
my head.  You want that?"

"I want whatever will make you happy.  As for your living here, move in this
week."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa.  I can commute for a while, but I don't want to do that
forever.  Think there'd be a job for a guy like me here in the city?"

"Of course.  I'd assign Dad and Mom to finding something for you.  They have
zillions of contacts.  And they'll want to do it if it will spell happiness
for me.  Maybe they'll want to do it for you too.  They can be like that if
they accept you.  But we'd need to talk to them first.  Otherwise, they'll
find a job for you that they like because it's respectable.  You'd probably
hate it.  Just say the word."

"Word," he said, grinning at his sophomoric joke.  "Okay, when do I move in?"

"As soon as you can.  I don't even know where you live."

"I've got a little - and I do mean little - place outside Arnold.  I'm renting
it.  I'll give notice and move in here before the end of the month."

I threw myself on him, capturing him in a hot kiss.  He was kissing back,
running his hands all over me.  When we broke for air, I lay my head on his
chest, luxuriating in the short hair tickling my cheeks and nose, in the feel
of the hard muscles against my cheek, in his masculine scent.  "How about
going shopping this afternoon for some of those thongs?" he suggested.

I roared happily.

The End.