Thank you for supporting the Nifty platform and this story.
Feedback is always welcome.
15
So, after Martin,
there wasn't a big attempt to find more straight guys, huh?" Logan asked.
"No. That's just a
minefield of problems. I was so traumatized over So-called Chuck on the Grindr
app, I needed to steer clear of straight men. Not that `Chuck' was necessarily
straight. Maybe I should call him Denial Chuck."
Logan returned to
my drunken experience with my roommate and previous disappointments.
"Did you feel
vulnerable at that time? You had things sort of blow up in your face. You
attempted love, you attempted casual sex — what was your mindset?"
"Abstinence."
"Really!!? You?"
"You make me sound
like a sex-crazed addict."
Logan chuckled.
"No. I didn't mean that. But for as long as we have been friends, sex has been
high on your radar."
"You think so?"
"How many times
over the years have we sat in bars and talked about sex?"
"You were half of
the conversations, you realize."
"Fair enough.
Particularly when I started seeing Nate, I'm sure I overshared those evenings."
"We're both good at
sex," I said, half-jokingly.
"YES, we are," he
smiled.
I looked at Logan.
If times were different, I could see me making a play for him again. We were
much younger when I fell for him. But he still has all the attributes that drew
me in. It was curious that I was feeling those old embers slightly burning.
But he was with
Nate. Happy with Nate. I didn't even need to contemplate such thoughts even for
a second. We were such good friends; I didn't need to mess anything up.
Yet, for a moment,
his eyes told me he might have been thinking similar thoughts about us
together.
"We have time for
one more entry," Logan quickly said.
I reached for the
book. "Number 15. Reed. Four inches soft. Seven inches
hard. Thick girth. Cut. Tons of pre-cum, a real leaker. Loose balls. Stunning
bush. Beautiful crotch overall."
"Just his crotch?"
Logan sarcastically asked.
"It's all I saw of
his body. Well, his face. The other words written were `Nice beard. Azalea
Trail. Buff. Black tank top."
"Your words are so
random but so interesting. I love Azalea Trail. Nate and I walk there every
spring."
"It is a gem of the
city. All the park land — it just stretches and stretches beyond the park into
the woods."
"I've heard stories
about those woods."
"I can confirm they
are true."
"Continue."
"Well, to be
honest, I had sort of given up on finding Mr. Right. I gave up the bar scene, I
wasn't doing apps. I kind of ... not that I'm proud of it ... found solace in the
ease of porn."
"No judgement."
"Looking back, I do
judge myself. It was free and easy and ... lazy. I didn't have to meet anyone,
talk to anyone, spend money on anyone. I think I was just turned off on the
concept of love as a whole."
"Mitchell. That's
sad. You never really mentioned any of that to me."
"Eh. You and Nate
were just becoming a thing. You were starry-eyed in love. I didn't want to be
the wet blanket. I just listened to you glow that year."
"Glow. Sure." Logan
paused. "But ... yeah. I was head over heels those first few months. I guess I
shared our sex life with you." Logan wrote a note. "Did that bother you?"
"Me?"
"Yes. I was having
a very enjoyable sex life, and you were cutting yourself off."
"Well, you weren't
my only friend. I listened to someone at work, also gay, bitch about his
partner and how their sex life took a nosedive. I guess I felt in the middle. I
was okay with that. Besides, in that phase, you spent your time with Nate. We
only went out for drinks about once a month."
"True. Hopefully me
being happy wasn't a discouragement."
"No. I'm obviously
not ANTI-happy."
"So ... Reed."
"Yeah. That was
different. I knew it wasn't going to be a love story, so-"
"You knew this from
the beginning?"
"I did. Reed was
sort of on the down low."
"Sort of?
"He was. Not sort
of. He was hiding his sexuality from others ... I think."
"Tell me more."
I was so tired of the summer heat. Thank goodness a break
in the temperatures was finally making it comfortable again. The 90s seemed
endless, but the string of 100-degree days were just brutal. I hated it.
According to my phone, the temperature in Jackson Bend
was a cool 79 degrees at 10 o'clock. The high today was only supposed to be 83.
Considering the August we had up to that point, it was bliss.
The Azalea Trail was so popular in the spring. Even on
weekdays, it could be very crowded. During the summer, walkers and hikers would
still enjoy the stroll, particularly the shaded parts. The blooms were always
nicer though in the areas that got sunlight.
Several people had the same idea as me. It was nice to be
outdoors and not roast. People were pretty good about keeping to the right when
joggers were passing. Runners tended to stay in the middle so people could step
to the side in both directions.
Three joggers went by me single file. A cute dad, a wife
who had her hair pulled back in a ponytail through a visor, and another woman
whom I assumed was a sister judging by the facial similarities. I didn't pay
them much attention. I just noticed that I heard them puffing.
I had about ten more minutes in the direction I was
heading before I would turn around to head back. The entire loop around the
woods was almost 90 minutes. I didn't care to do that much walking.
A jogger headed my way. I noticed a dark black tank top
on what looked to be a pretty muscular guy. Even from a distance, some black
hair showing on his chest drew me in.
Then I couldn't miss it. Follow the bouncing balls ... and
dick. This man's genitals were very loose and clearly free within the sheer
shorts. I couldn't see anything specific. But bulges and bounces were there.
When he got closer, I swore I could make out the contour of his shaft. It
looked sizeable.
Did he notice me looking? I met his eyes, and he was
looking at me. Did he think I was some sketchy pervert? Had he seen me stare at
his crotch? He smiled and moved on.
Twenty minutes later, I had turned back and was halfway
through the return stroll to the parking lot my car was in. On occasion, I
would see people leave the trail and take skinny paths into the thick woods.
One couple were part of a young married family who had a kindergarten-aged kid
in tow. A single person took a different path. My gaydar went off on two guys
strolling down a different path. I had seen these small trails before — and
heard all the rumors since I was in junior high — but I had never been that far
into the woods. It was supposed to be close to two miles across at its largest
diameter. The entire loop was a little short of six miles.
My tank top jogger was headed my
direction again. I loved how his beard was neatly trimmed. There was scruff on
his neck; clearly, he didn't have to shave over the weekend. It could have been
my imagination, but I thought he smiled when he saw me approaching. It took all
my strength to not stare at his crotch — and I failed. I was certain I could
see the head of his cock press against the front of his jogging shorts.
"Good morning," he said, making me look him in the eyes
again.
"Hi," I said.
"I had gone to the
park to enjoy a walk two Sundays in a row. I just noticed this jogger. His dick
just bounced and bobbed in his shorts. It was hypnotic."
"Did he notice you
looking?"
"Probably."
"You were in this ...
let's call it `an abstinence phase.' How did this stranger make you feel?"
"I wouldn't say abstinence
necessarily. Not like a conscious effort to not have sex. I just
wasn't."
"So, what did your
head tell you and what did your heart tell you?"
"My heart wasn't
involved. I don't think my head was either. It was my dick more than anything
else."
Logan laughed.
"Sorry."
The first Sunday in September, Labor Day weekend, the
temperature was glorious. I knew it would be nicer in the afternoon, but Tank
Top Guy always ran in the mornings. Even at 58 degrees, I still chose a 10
o'clock walk. Sure enough, my jogger did the same.
As he approached, I smiled and made sort of a
tip-of-the-hat gesture. He stopped, surprisingly.
"I've seen you on the trail before. I'm Reed."
"Mitchell." I extended my hand.
His grip was slightly sweaty, which made my dick stir.
It was awkward. What did one say to a
complete stranger, a stranger who made your cock go "boing"?
"I see you walking in the mornings. Do you ever do
evening walks?"
"Not typically. I like to do them earlier on. Then I can
shower and get on with my day."
"Well, yeah. I certainly need a shower."
"Sweat looks good on you."
Did I really just say that?? Did
I hit on this guy? Would he sock me in the teeth?
He smiled. "Thanks. Would you be interested in an evening
walk later this evening. I'm off tomorrow, so I have free time."
That was direct. There was no question that he was
interested. I liked his looks, so ... who knows? Maybe this chance encounter
could be the love of my life.
"I ... suppose."
"I promise I'm not a serial killer."
"I didn't think that you were."
We smiled.
"How about I meet you at the Mons Creek parking lot? Say,
7?"
"Sure. I'll meet you there."
"I promise I won't be so ripe then," he said.
All I could think about was peeling his sweaty clothes
off his body. Then rubbing shower gel all over his body. And rinsing his body.
And looking at his body. And feeling his body.
Both our dicks pushed our shorts out in front of us. His looked like an elephant trunk contained in fabric.
"See you then," I said, wondering how he would continue
to jog with a growing erection. I started thinking of Grandma Sanders to make
mine go down.
"The third time we
crossed paths, he kind of ... I wouldn't say hit on me, but it was an invitation.
And the crotch I had been staring out for two weeks seemed to react. I
accepted."
"What were you
expecting at that point? A date? Sex and goodbye?"
"His dick was
sizable, from what I could tell. I think a part of me was hoping for sparks."
"Sparks again,"
Logan said flatly.
"I know. I know."
I smelled fantastic. I had showered with my fragrant gels
just before coming back to the park. I wanted to be fresh. Clean everywhere. My
hair looked fabulous. I trimmed my beard so that it was well-defined, just like
his. It was funny how my beard came and went, but seeing how much I liked his, perhaps I should keep mine more often.
I pulled into the chosen lot and parked. I got out and
scanned the area. I didn't see him. A few people were still walking, but it
wasn't busy. The temperature had dropped to about 60 degrees.
It was his idea to meet, so I didn't think I was going to
be stood up. However, he mentioned a walk. What would
happen after that? Dinner. His place? We didn't really know each other at all.
Was tonight the night to accomplish that?
A minute later, Reed pulled up next to me. He got out of
the car looking very nice. He wasn't stunningly handsome, but still good
looking enough. A long-sleeve, navy blue shirt looked
sharp on him. He had on white jeans, which made him sexy as hell. I could tell
he had shaved.
"Hi," I said. He smiled.
He turned to his car and pulled out a small gym bag. I
raised an eyebrow wondering what was in it, but he didn't notice my look.
"Shall we?" he said, gesturing to the trail.
We were a few steps into the walk, and I finally asked.
"So, what's in the bag?"
"I thought I might need something later." He left it
that. I didn't investigate further.
"So, do you just come to Azelea Park just on Sundays or
other days of the week too?" I asked, trying to make conversation with someone
whom I knew nothing about.
"Every Sunday. Occasionally Friday evenings."
"Evenings."
"After work. Sometimes, I feel ... being in the park ... will
do me some good."
"It is nice."
We walked for a couple of minutes without saying
anything. The sun hadn't set and wouldn't for another hour, but it was getting
lower. Our long-sleeved shirts were a good thing. Perhaps he had a jacket in
the bag.
"It's kind of nice that the woods have several trails,"
he said.
"I suppose."
"Have you ever explored any of them?"
I hadn't. Everyone who lived in Jackson Bend had heard
the stories of gay men going into the woods in the evening to find partners.
There were never any reports of police investigating or arrests made. Citizens
just "knew." We passed one man, whom my gaydar did go off in a big way, enter a
trail. I now assumed that was our agenda. The woods.
"Not really," I answered.
"I'd like to show you one."
We walked for about ten more minutes. We began to lose
daylight, but it wasn't dark.
"Here," he said, gesturing to a thin path. "If we wait
too long, it may be too dark to find our way back."
"Hm."
We walked about a half mile when we passed man standing
alone. He looked us over. His eyes inquired if we were interested. It wasn't
more than a minute later that we passed two gentlemen, one receiving a blowjob
from another on his knees. All I could think of was all those rumors I had
heard for years were obviously true.
Further on, we found an area on the trail that was a
little more open. I figured we had about 35 minutes before it would be really dark.
"Here we are," he said.
I had no idea how this was going to pan out. For a split
second, I thought about what if he wanted to rob me. He could clearly overpower
me. He was buff and strong. He said he wasn't a serial killer, but would a
serial killer tell you if he was?
"I think you're quite hot, Mitchell."
"Um. Thanks." I felt weird. Uncomfortable. Unsure of what
was going to take place. "I like your body. You've done a nice job with it."
"I've seen you eye my crotch on the trail."
"Yeah."
Reed unzipped his jeans and pulled open his fly. His
thumbs pulled the waistband of his briefs down. His cock sprang free. It wasn't
hard, but it was growing. I was close enough to where his other hand could
reach my arm, and he moved it closer to his waist.
I didn't hesitate. I gripped his dick. It felt thick. It
felt firm. It felt nice.
I wanted it.
I dropped to my knees. I took it in my mouth and moaned,
tasting its masculine but noticeably clean skin. I wondered what it smelled
like when his balls were all sweaty.
Balls.
I took my hands and shoved his jeans down a foot, taking
his briefs with them.
"That's it," he said.
I licked his balls. I liked how they hung. My balls were
so tight. I wished I had his.
"Nice package," I said.
"Do whatever you like," he said.
As I sucked him, he began to groan. His hands held my
head as it moved in and out on his crotch. I didn't realize how much I had
missed sex. Porn was fine, but I was enjoying the real deal.
I didn't like it when people were loud during sex, but no
one could hear us here. His groaning made me feel like I was doing a good job.
Every now and then he would lift on his toes, pushing his cock further into my
mouth.
Then he forcefully pushed me off. "Not yet."
I stood. "Can I kiss you?"
"No." The answer floored me. "I don't do that."
He squatted down and opened his bag. A camping blanket
was rolled up. With a snap of his arms, he made it fly open. Soon it was spread
out. It was about six feet by six feet.
"Take your pants off," he instructed.
I didn't argue.
I wasn't sure what to do after that. I folded my pants at
the edge and sat on the blanket. Reed knelt down, his balls and cock still
hanging out of his open jeans, and pulled the boxers
off my legs.
"Nice cock!" he barked.
In no time, my manhood was in his mouth. He moaned as he
consumed it. All of the experience was happening so
fast. As the light got dimmer, I found myself overwhelmed. It was like being in
a suspense movie where all the possible things with a setting could go wrong
WOULD.
But there was no denying a wet, sloppy tongue on my cock
was something I hadn't felt in months — it was wonderful.
Reed was as loud as I was, moaning at being sucked and
moaning while sucking. He was loving it.
"Get down here," I said.
He lay down opposite me, and both of us were
mouth-to-cock. Pre-cum leaked from his dick, stretching down to his navel. My
hand reached to play with it. He leaked more. I felt the slick stickiness on my
fingers and then fondled his balls with my tacky touch. I knew I had leaked
pre-cum too, but it was all in his mouth.
His hand fingered my hole as he sucked my flesh. His
middle finger entered me. I groaned into his cock. He explored my inside.
I sucked his hard-on with more stimulation with my
tongue. His body squirmed.
Reed took his mouth off my cock. "Mitchell!" Then he
roared like a bear as cum shot into my waiting mouth. He didn't ejaculate as
much as most of the men I had dated, but I felt the creamy liquid drip onto the
back of my tongue.
He kept growling until he was sure he was spent ... and
even after that.
"If you can't tell, I enjoyed that."
I laughed into his deflating erection and let it escape
the prison cell of my mouth.
He took me again. Slurping. Licking. Tasting. Swallowing.
I erupted as the final rays of the sunset were lowering
into the tree trunks. Reed finger fucked me the whole time; he removed it after
my orgasm and cleaned off his hands and his crotch with a disinfectant wipe
from the bag. He handed me one also.
"We should begin our walk."
We began on the thin trail, heading through the thick
woods. We didn't see other men; they must have preceded us.
"I do have a flashlight if we needed it, but we're almost
there."
We returned to the Azalea Trail. A few lights in the park
were enough to let us walk to the parking lot in the violet sky of twilight.
I was going to suggest dinner once we got back to the
cars.
"It was fun, Mitchell. Maybe we'll do it again."
"Oh. Would you like to-"
"No. Sorry. I'm ... on the down low. I can't be seen with
other men ... such as you. Such as us. In public. In my building. Sorry."
I was a bit confused and disappointed.
"Good night."
He got in his car.
"It totally didn't
work out how I thought it would. We met back up at the park. He took me into
the woods, and-"
"So that DOES
happen."
"It does." I
watched him scribble something, which annoyed me. "Anyway. We did it in the
woods. Blowjobs that night. That was it. He had a blanket with him in a gym
bag. It was to protect his white jeans, I think. Actually, it
made everything more comfortable, I'm sure."
"Then what
happened."
"He drove away. He
said he couldn't be seen with a gay man."
"Well, isn't that
fine and dandy."
"I know."
"So, did that make
you feel better or worse after not having any for months?"
"Worse. Kind of.
Maybe. Gosh, that was years ago. I do remember feeling disappointed and
disillusioned. I sort of felt disposable, actually. It
was outrageous and fun and wild ... but unsatisfying."
"It wasn't
something to bring you back to look for love again, obviously."
"If we actually dated, I think I might have liked him. I'll never
know."
"So just the one
time, huh?"
"Three."
"You did it again?"
"The next two
Sundays."
"Wow. Never kissed.
Never saw each other outside of the park. The second time was really rough. He fucked me standing up against a tree."
"Dear lord,
Mitchell!"
"It's funny. I look
back on that as totally hot. But the night of ... not so much. At least he had a
cloth to put between me and the tree. My dick would have been ripped off by the
bark."
"Ouch. Ouch ouch ouch. I don't even want to
think about it."
"The last time was
a little gentler. We were both on the blanket. Believe it or not, I was
completely naked that time. He never was. We arrived earlier and just took it
slower. He undressed me. Hot. I wanted to take off his clothes. He only let me
unbutton his shirt."
"I want to watch." I rolled onto my back and saw him put
on a condom and spread lube all over it.
He lifted my legs up, pushing my ass into the air. I held
them there. His tongue licked my hole for a few seconds. "I want that ass."
Reed moved up my body to position his dick at my hole. He
moved in too fast. My body jerked in pain. I didn't like it.
"Sorry," he said. He pulled out.
I took a few breaths and then nodded. "Carefully."
Slower this time, he moved in. It didn't feel good, but
it was not the sharp pain of the first penetration.
"You're really thick."
"I like that you can take it. Not all men can."
He started slowly. It took a couple of minutes, but
because he took his time, it became pleasurable.
I didn't make much noise during this session. Reed did.
His groaning at times sounded like he was being stabbed, although I was the one
pierced. As I was fucked, I jerked my own erection. It wasn't until my own
climax built that I moaned at all. We came at the same time, calling out in
pleasure. It was a mutual orgasm.
But there were no sparks.
"Looking back on it
now, it seems so outlandish. Naked in the woods. Had we been caught by regular
people in the park, we'd have been arrested."
"Thankfully, you
weren't."
"But unfortunately,
I didn't feel the spark I did with Arlo. I thought Reed's dick might do it, but
it didn't happen."
"I think it is
probably more than just a penis."
"The next week was
rainy, and the week after that was cold. Fall soon moved in. Fucking in the
woods in the cold did not seem fun. So that was it. And to be honest, I did a
lot of thinking during that pause. It was just not satisfying. Even if it
wasn't true love or anything, I still needed more. A date. Hell, a kiss!!"
"He didn't kiss
while making love?"
"We didn't make
love. We had sex. That's all it was. And I knew it. It wasn't enough. I needed
something ... deeper."
"Sounds like you
figured things out. Did you retreat back into
abstinence?"
"Yes. Actually, I started the job at the
firm. Where I am now. I became engrossed in work. Dating wasn't a priority. The
new career would allow me to start saving for a house. I was hoping by the time
I was 30 that I'd be there. I suppose it was more distraction than abstinence,
but ... same thing in the end."
"You dismiss it, but think back to your feelings."
I didn't know what
Logan was going for. I'd had brief encounters with partners before. This wasn't
that different.
"Yes, I was hoping
for ... hope."
"Elaborate."
"I had a moment of
hope when Reed showed an interest. I hoped to find love. And ... I knew that it
wasn't going to happen. I could fault the weather or the job, but ... yeah, I
lost hope. I hoped for sparks, but the real hope was ... I think, the real hope
was that love was out there."
"And afterward?"
"I moved on in my
mind. Cold weather. New job. I didn't have time to think about hope. Or I made
sure that I didn't have time."
"You never tried
the trail again months or years later?"
"Not on Sunday
mornings. I did the trail in the spring — with half the population of Jackson
Bend." I stopped to think back on those brief conversations with Reed. "I
wonder if he ever accepted himself. I feel kind of sorry for him now. He
wouldn't allow himself to be who he was. He dipped his foot in the pond, but
that was it."
"Did you ever call
him or anything?"
"He wouldn't even
give me his number, even after we fucked."
"Hm. I do hope,
wherever he is, that he broke out of that pattern. That isn't healthy at all.
The down low is not a way to build self-esteem."
"Well, not my
problem. I have enough of my own."
"You're doing well
though."
"I seem to just be
talking though. Am I really improving?"
"You're sorting
through a lot. If there was a fast answer, it would be in a brochure. Going
through this a step at a time, you're diving deep. You're figuring out what you
want."
"I know what I
want. I want Cooper."
"Cooper isn't
available. But ... what you're looking for isn't one person. You're looking for
attributes, characteristics, qualities ... thinks that make you happy. Cooper
fulfilled those, but ... we need to keep digging in. You're getting there."
"And you're getting
my money along the way."
"Ouch."
"Sorry. Yeah. I was
hoping an answer would be on a leaflet in your drawer, which you handed out."
"I'll see you next
week."
I walked out of
Logan's building in a daze. Kenneth, Martin, Reed ... they were all so different.
Such strange encounters. They all distanced themselves from me in their own
way."
As I drove toward
my house, I passed the police station. I don't know what possessed me, but I
pulled in.
I had no idea what
I was going to say when I walked in, but my body seemed to be acting on its
own. My brain wasn't engaged. I was still in a daze.
"Can I help you
sir?"
"Uh. Maybe. Can you
tell me if an Officer Parsons is in this precinct?"
"Yes. He's out on
patrol. Is something wrong? Would you like me to call him?"
"No. I'm an old
friend. I ... I was just curious. I'll see if the cell number I have for him
works. Thank you."
I turned to walk
out. I swirled back.
"Is there a Martin
Riggs?"
"Precinct 3. Has
been for over a year."
"Okay. Thanks. He's
an old roommate."
A FFC was next
door. I moved my car into its parking lot.
I took a bite of an
Extra Crispy chicken breast, staring at the list of contacts in my phone. I
still had both Martin's and Kenneth's numbers. I felt like reconnecting with
them, but I didn't think Martin would want to see me. He drunkenly fucked me.
What straight man wants to be reminded of that?
"Hi Kenneth.
It's Mitchell. It's been a while. I was just wondering how you were. You were
on my mind today. I hope things are well." Send.
That probably
wasn't a good idea. Will it freak him out to read that? It's so random, so out
of the blue. What could I possibly get out of such a communication?
However,
reconnecting with Arlo and Cruz was nice.
I threw my fast food wrappings in the trash. As I pulled out of the
parking lot, I realized Cooper usually went to AA meetings on Wednesdays. The
community center was only two blocks away. I parked across the street. I felt
like some FBI agent investigating a crime, just sitting in my car waiting for
something to happen. Then I saw Cooper's car pull in. As I watched the gorgeous
man I still loved walk in — alone — I suddenly felt
like a stalker. I felt odd. And creepy.
I drove off, but I
didn't feel like going home.
A
drink sounded nice. I was three blocks from the gayborhood. I decided to
simply treat myself.
I pulled into The
Black Stallion parking lot. When I walked inside, it was fairly
empty.
"What can I do you
for?" the bartender asked. He was a good-looking blonde.
"It seems pretty
quiet in here tonight," I said.
"Well, Daniel's is
more the happy hour crowd. We get busier later. Still, we have happy hour for
another ten minutes."
"Hmm. I'll have a
Jack and Coke." I saw the draft spigots. "On the other hand, a cold, frosty one
sounds good. You've got Michelob on tap. I'll do that. Two if it's happy hour.
He set a frosted pilsner in front of me. The head on the beer flowed over one
edge. It looked inviting.
"I'll pour the
second one when you're about half done. Start a tab?"
"I don't know.
Actually, yeah. Go ahead." I handed him my credit card.
"If you need
anything, I'm Layton. That loser at the other end of the bar is Carter."
"Hey! Watch your
mouth," Carter barked, lugging two cases of bottled beer. "Don't believe him.
I'm loved by everybody."
The cold beverage
going down was exactly what I had been craving.
Layton looked like
he could be a model in a magazine. Handsome features, beautiful hair. Carter
had more of a "leather" look, although he wasn't wearing any leather other than
a bracelet. His dark hair was trimmed short on the side but thicker on top. His
moustache and beard had a rugged appearance.
I scanned over the
club. A DJ looked to be setting up for later. He was handsome too. I can
sometimes be drawn in by red hair, but a cowboy hat is a definite plus.
Maybe getting out
would be good for me. I didn't need to jump into the dating scene, but being
among other gay people could be a boost to my rainbow DNA.
Two guys were
sitting in a booth looking all cozy. Good for them. Sucky for me. I hadn't been
cozy in months.
I felt my phone
vibrate. It was a text.
"Mitchell. It's
nice to hear from you. Is it okay to call?"
Holy shit! Kenneth
replied.
"Absolutely."
I took another
drink. My phone rang.
"Hey, Layton! Delay
that second beer for a bit. I need to take this call."
I stepped outside.
"Hi."
"Well, talk about a
surprise. You probably would have been the last person I would have expected to
hear from."
"It's nice to hear
your voice, Kenneth."
"Yours too, man."
There was an awkward pause. "So, what made you reach out? I figured you'd never
want to hear from me ever again."
"Why would you say
that?"
"The way I just
sort of ended things. I figured you probably felt I led you on and then skirted
off."
"That's not how I
felt about it."
"It was a sad time
in my life. I wrestled with too much shit. I let being Black and gay torment me
too much."
"I did feel for
you."
"It was bad for a year
and a half. I got married, we had a daughter ... and then I couldn't take it. My
wife knew something was up. I finally stood up for myself."
"Well, good for
you."
"Divorce is ugly.
Both her family and mine were very unkind to me for quite a while. I met Graham
shortly thereafter. We're married now. I have joint custody with my ex. Our
girl's name is Simone."
"Wow."
"So, you didn't say
what prompted you to reach out."
"Oh, you were on my
mind today."
"Why so?"
I sighed. "Well, if
you must know, I'm ... it's not very flattering, but ... I'm in therapy right now."
"Oh my God. It
isn't because of the way I left you, is it?"
I laughed. "No. No,
that was okay. We're just discussing previous encounters. I'm having a hard
time getting over someone in particular."
"Gosh, Mitchell. I
don't know what to say."
"You don't have to
say anything. Just hearing your voice has cheered me up."
"Well, thank you. I
appreciate you being forgiving ... for all those years ago. It's been ages."
"It has, but I do
remember you fondly. I'm glad you are doing well."
"I'd love you to
meet my husband, Graham."
"Well, after my
session next week, would you like to meet me at The Black Stallion? That's
where I am right now."
"Oooo. That would
give me an opportunity to dig out my cowboy hat. You're on."
"Wonderful. I'll
text you a time."
I went back inside.
Once back at my
stool, Layton slid me my second beer. "You have a nice smile on your face. Good
call?"
"It was.
Reconnecting with someone. An old flame actually."
"Oooo. Rekindled
sparks, eh?"
"No. Nothing like
that. He's married. He wants me to meet his husband."
"Eek. Will that be
awkward?"
"Not at all. I look
forward to it." I looked around. "I invited them here next week, but I'm
wondering if I should have picked something livelier."
"Hey now. Just hang
around for a few hours. It'll pick up."
"I guess
two-stepping wasn't the goal anyway."
Carter came over
and placed a bowl of pretzels in front of me.
"Thanks."
"Are you new to
Jackson Bend?"
"Hardly. I've been
here for years."
"We don't see you
in here. So, we're glad you popped in."
"I needed to get
out. I'm trying to get over someone. A bad breakup, so to speak."
"Well ... you're very
good-looking," Layton said. "You'll meet someone new."
"Watch out," Carter
said. "He's hitting on you now."
"I am not. I'm just
doing my job as bartender."
I had a good time.
I only expected to have the two beers, but Layton and Carter kept me company.
Talking to Kenneth and being among the gay community lifted my spirits. When I
headed home, I was in a good place.
* * * *
Email: timothylane414@gmail.com