Date: Fri, 28 Jan 2022 11:00:20 +0000 (UTC)
From: austintc@aol.com
Subject: Austin and Andrew, Chapter 17

This is a true story, taking place in the early 1990's.  After originally
meeting over the phone, Andrew and I decided to meet in person over
Memorial Day weekend in 1990. Overcoming insurmountable odds, our long
distance relationship was no more, as Andrew found work at the company
where I worked at the start of 1991. Although our first year together as
a closeted gay couple was one of extremes, we emerged most unscathed, but
as 1992 came to a close and 1993 was about to begin, I had committed the
ultimate sin and cheated on Andrew. Now after making amends with Andrew,
1994 found us together, a happy couple once again.  But would we survive
the year together?

Please feel free to contact me, Austin T. Charles at austintc@aol.com  I
appreciate all feedback on my story!

Also, please consider donating to Nifty.org!  Without their support,
aspiring writers like me would not be able to tell our stories!
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ; Thank you!

Austin and Andrew, Chapter 17

After a night of miserable sleep, tossing and turning with dreams that
were not remembered as the new day dawned, I woke up feeling as if I'd
only slept ten minutes. We had recently celebrated our fourth year
together if you count meeting for the first time during the Memorial Day
weekend in 1990 as being the start of the clock on our official time
together. It had been an incredible ride as I'd spent my more than a
third of the decade living my life as a gay man. But now the storm clouds
had gathered on our otherwise storybook relationship. I had to make a
decision as to whether I should buy the dilapidated house that would
allow me to fulfill one of my dreams of remodeling a house, or should I
pass up on the house and continue to live with Andrew and hope that I
would still be able to hide my identity from my parents and family.

It was a clear and sunny start to that warm Sunday in June. I got up,
took a shower, and made a cup of coffee. Andrew had not yet emerged from
his room by the time I decided to go to the park for a walk with hopes of
coming to a decision on the house.

The drive from the house we shared to the park where I liked to hike was
roughly fifteen minutes. Since it was a Sunday and still somewhat early,
I got to the west end of the lake, parked the truck, and started walking
west along the creek that formed from the run off from the dam, then took
a right on a shared trail that ran along the edge of the woods. At one
time this meadow, which now had smaller trees growing amongst the grass
was once farm land, as there was a definite difference between the old
growth oak and hickory trees and the small scrubby trees that were trying
to establish their roots in the meadow to one day provide shelter for the
many wild animals that called the park home.

Being alone and one with nature helped to clear my mind and weigh the
pros and cons of buying the fixer upper house in South Beloit. Pro-wise,
I'd be closer to work. I could expand my knowledge of fixing up a house.
I could design the entire house the way I wanted it to be.  By fixing the
house, I would gain instant equity in the house, as even though I'd have
to put a fair amount of money into the house, I could get it appraised
once the repairs were done and then refinance any outstanding loans I had
into one lower monthly payment. Most of all, I would be out of the city
of Rockford.

Con-wise, I would run the risk that Andrew and I would be over. The
repairs could end up costing a lot more than originally thought. It might
be tougher living back by my parents, especially if Andrew did decide to
move in with me.

In the end, the reasons to buy the house outweighed the reasons for not
buying the house close to an 8 to 3 margin. If Andrew carried out his
threat that we would be finished as a couple, that would be a chance I'd
have to take. With the sun shining brightly, the birds singing their
happy morning songs, on a trail that ran along the woods in the expansive
state park on a Sunday morning in June of 1994, I decided to proceed with
the purchase of the house in South Beloit. If it meant the end of my
relationship of four years with the man I professed my love for, the same
man who helped me overcome the odds of a long distance relationship to be
together to live as one, then it was a risk I decided I would have to
take, in an effort to hide my sexuality from my parents, no matter how
much it hurt the one who loved me.

But it wasn't that simple, or that easy. I had made the decision, yes. I
tried getting financing for the house by going to a local bank, but was
turned down, saying that the house itself did not have enough value to
justify the loan. Essentially, they felt that the property was worth more
than the house was. They would not give me a loan based on the idea that
I was going to fix up the house either. Sadly, I called my dad and told
him of the decision by the bank I chose and told him I'd probably have
to let the house go. He had gotten a call from Archie about the house
sale, and he was ready to list the house with a realtor, so Dad told him
to give us twenty four hours and Dad would talk to his banker and see if
they could do anything for us.

In those days, there was still value in having a good name at the bank.
Dad's banker said that he would let me buy the house with a cash loan by
signing a one year note on the house, giving me time to do the repairs.
Once the repairs were complete, I would then get the house refinanced and
consolidate any extra expenses into the one mortgage loan.

When I originally told Andrew that the loan for the house was going to
fall through, his only response was that "maybe miracles do come true"
which meant that I would not move out of his house.  So when Dad's
banker helped us out, Andrew was defeated, and the reality that I was
going to move out started to sink in. I reassured him that I had no plans
to move out until the renovation was complete, which probably wouldn't
be until the end of the summer. Three months ought to be enough time, I
thought to myself.

Boy was I wrong!

From the moment I took the first swing of the hammer, the project grew
exponentially. Originally I had planned on fixing the bedroom first, then
moving into the house and working on the rest of the house as time
allowed.

That idea got thrown out the window into the dumpster with the rest of
the reconstruction debris I threw out during the project. Without really
boring everyone with gory details of the rehab, let's just say that at
the end of the three months when I'd planned to be moving in, I had a
360 degree view of the entire outer walls of the house when standing in
the middle of the house. I could look up and see the inside of the roof,
look down where the bathroom floor once was and could see the basement
floor instead. The five grand I had saved for the project was almost
gone, but in a project like this, the repairs had to be done the right
way. The electrical system had to be updated, as was the plumbing,
windows, doors, wall coverings, flooring and some of the exterior wall
covering. As I soon learned, The right way can also be the expensive
way.

In those first three months I spent nearly every waking hour away from
work and sleep working on the house. Andrew and I spent literally no time
together. He was still not happy with me and did not want anything to do
with the house, or for that manner, me.

So at the three month mark I took my parents up on the offer to move into
the basement of their house so I could save money by not paying rent to
Andrew. My parents allowed me to live at their house for free, so it was
a no brainer to make the move.

Moving day was difficult. A lot of the furniture in Andrew's house was
mine, and so when the dust settled, Andrew was left with very little
furniture and no TV.

When I had moved the last article of mine from the house, the time had
arrived for me to give Andrew his house key back. As hard as it was, my
intention at that time was to let him know that in my mind this wouldn't
be the end of us, rather just time for me to finish the house project,
leaving the door open for him to move in with me if he so desired.  My
thought was that we could still be together, albeit more difficult to see
each other. That plan failed as the key was given back to him in hopes
that he would want us to continue to be a couple.

"You know this is it for us, right?" Andrew told me on that warm
Saturday afternoon in August as we stood in the kitchen of his house that
now took on a foreign look and feel to me.

"That is up to you. Like I'd said before, the offer still stands. We
can still be together and once the house is done if you want to move in,
you can. I still love you. You know this was an opportunity that I
couldn't turn down, right?" I almost pleaded now, hoping he would
change his mind.

"You could have turned it down so we could still be together. I gave up
my entire future at school in Iowa to be here with you. And now that
you've done this, I have nothing keeping me here in Rockford. Not this
house, not my job, not this town. You were the only reason I moved here.
I love you very much, Austin, but I'm not going to keep a relationship
going with you living in a different town and house. My entire reason for
moving here was to be with you, in a house together, not separate. By you
moving out, it's putting me in a deep financial hole because now I have
to buy all new furniture, a television, and a new bed. I just do not want
to be with you for a while. We are done. Good luck with your house."

He began to cry and walked away from me, going to his bedroom where he
shut the door. I took one last look around the kitchen and dining room of
the house that was once a happy place where we'd shared the last year or
so, making love and had our dreams of living happily together until we
moved on to the next chapter of our lives. It was bittersweet walking out
the door of the house and driving away not knowing when we would see each
other again.

Only time would tell.

For some reason, I didn't cry on the way back to the house.  The fifteen
minute drive had me almost relieved that this chapter of my life with
Andrew had reached this point. In a good way, at least the incessant job
of rehabbing the house had me so busy that I didn't have time for
missing Andrew.

Looking back at that moment in my life I did realize that Andrew's
reasons to be upset with me and for breaking up with me were indeed
warranted. Although buying the rehab project house could be deemed for
selfish reasons I suppose but then I think back about the main reason why
I turned down the offer to move to Colorado with the company was that he
did not want to move with me. It wasn't like I didn't try to make
decisions based on our relationship, and after all I did offer him the
opportunity to work on the house with me so it would be our house,
designed by us and built with us in mind. In the end though my
relationship with Andrew ended because ultimately neither of us were
willing to fully accept who we were and who we had become. Instead we
chose to stay closeted and hide our identities from our families. It
wasn't just me; Andrew made that choice as well.

I tried to contact Andrew several times at work via company email, but my
emails mostly went unanswered. The time between talking to each other
stretched further apart now, and it would be weeks before we would talk
to each other via phone or email.

One Saturday in September I was working at the house by myself. My
sister's boyfriend had been helping me, but on this particular weekend
he was busy doing something else. It was just about 11 o'clock in the
morning and I had just taken a break from working on reconstructing a
wall in the bedroom when I saw a familiar car pull in the driveway. It
was Andrew.

I was very surprised to see him and of course I welcomed him into the
house. This was the first time since I'd started the project some four
months earlier that he stopped in to see the house. He was really
surprised at the magnitude of the project I'd undertaken. I showed him
everything I'd done to the house thus far and he was almost surprised to
see just how much work was accomplished and what was still ahead of me.
When I showed him the patio and the garage, he was pretty much grossed
out by the condition the patio and garage were in.  We then went into the
area on the west side of the garage where my future workshop was going to
be.  I had all of my tools and other assorted junk stored in this area. I
turned on the lights in the workshop and we now stood looking around
while I told him what my plans were for the room. What happened next
caught me completely off guard.

We were standing close together as I was talking and before I knew it we
were in each other's arms embracing. Our lips met and just like old
times we were kissing like the lovers we once were. He whispered that he
really missed me, and I agreed with him that I also missed being with
him. Before I could say no, he dropped to his knees, undid my belt,
unzipped my jeans, pulled down my briefs and took my stiffening cock deep
into his mouth until his nose touched my pubes. Other than jacking off
when the need would arise, I had not been sexual with anyone else since
moving out of Andrew's house. So it would be easy to understand just how
good his blow job felt. He always did give great head, and it didn't
take long before he swallowed my entire load without missing a drop. The
blow job was amazing and very quickly I realized just how much I missed
being with him as well.

When he finished, he stood up, wiped his mouth on the back of his and,
then apologized for what he had done. Remorse, perhaps? More than likely.
Did I reciprocate?

I did not reciprocate. Yeah, I should have, but for some reason I
couldn't. Maybe I feared someone like my dad showing up again like he
did that first summer in my little house in South Beloit. Maybe if Andrew
would have stopped blowing me before I came I would have dropped to me
knees and took him in my mouth. The scenario definitely could have taken
on a porn-like scene and made a heck of an amateur video, one in today's
world that would have had several thousand likes. But instead we walked
out of the workshop with only me being completely satisfied. Once I'd
shot my load deep down his throat somehow the desire to do him had left
me.

After the blow job in the workshop, there was an aura of awkwardness
surrounding us. I think Andrew regretted it because he didn't stay much
longer. We talked and did agree to see each other again soon. The
remainder of that Saturday and Sunday all I could think about was how
amazing his lips felt around my cock again, and how nice it was to be in
his arms once again.

A few weeks later I found out that my grandfather had hip surgery that
left him unable to live alone at night. Since I was the only single
grandchild and even though I was up to my neck in work at the house, I
volunteered to stay with him at night in case he needed any assistance
getting around. Also since he'd giving me money for the rehab project on
the house, I felt obligated to help him in return. My new weekly schedule
now involved me getting to his house, which was located between Rockford
and South Beloit around sunset and staying until morning. My day started
by first going to work until three, then go to the house and work until
seven, then shower at my parent's house before heading back to stay with
Grandpa.

I did this same routine for close to two months before he started feeling
better and no longer needed my assistance at night. During those two
months it left me with little free time to do anything other than work at
my full time job and work on the house. I didn't see Andrew or find time
to meet anyone new.

This routine also gave me time to focus on living a lifestyle that
wasn't a lifestyle that included have sex with guys. You see, what I
failed to mention before was that another reason for moving out of
Andrew's house and getting up to my neck in the rehab of the new house
was that I felt that I wanted to try dating girls again. Andrew accepted
this idea and understood my desire but had an inkling of where I would
eventually end up.

He was right.

Once I had my phone service hooked up at the rehab house -- remember cell
phones were a new technology then and was not something everyone had --
and I found myself answering an ad in the personals section of the
Rockford newspaper. They had a new service in the paper where people
could place an ad looking for love, sex, or whatever. Since I found it
amusing to look at the ads at work, even at one point laughing about some
of the postings with my coworkers, I secretly answered an ad for an
eighteen year old guy who was looking for someone older like me.

I left Kevin a message after hearing his voice and waited for a response.
A day or so later I got a response from him, and we began talking and
finally agreed to meet. At first I was like a kid with a new toy. While
he wasn't what you would call a cute guy, he had a thin build, wasn't
very muscular, which was a total turn on to me, but seemed to be slightly
slow. By that I mean that he almost seemed to be what we called in the
nineties somewhat mentally challenged. But I overlooked this and reminded
myself that my main reason for getting to know him was to get him in
bed.

Since I had not yet finished the rehab and was still living in my
parent's basement, taking him there would have been a huge mistake. In
fact, I made the mistake of showing him the rehab house. A week or so
after meeting him he showed up one cold evening in December when my
sister's boyfriend was helping me work on the house. It was awkward
trying to explain to him who this young guy was and why he was coming to
see me at the rehab. Thankfully, Tom never asked me about Kevin, so all
ended well, but it didn't mean I nearly freaked out and certainly
learned in the future not to bring anyone I met to see the house until I
was completely moved in.

The rehab was finally completed in early February of 1995. I had poured
my entire heart, soul, and financial resources into the house and was
rewarded for my efforts by getting a mortgage that allowed me to pay off
my entire amount of bills that had accumulated from the project. I also
had raised the value of the house by just over twenty thousand dollars in
less than a year after purchasing the dilapidated property from Archie.
Needless to say the project was a success, was very rewarding, had
exceeded my expectations, and gave me a ton of confidence and pride in
knowing that I had succeeded in my efforts, a gamble that clearly paid
instant dividends. My reward was now living inside a place I could once
again call my own, a house that was completely brand new on the inside.
Now I was ready to get on with my life and try to figure out what path I
wanted to pursue.

That path was still one that led me back to pursuing guys, at least in
the short term. In fact, for the early part of '95 into the summer, I
succeeded in getting Kevin in bed. As mentioned before, he was not that
cute, in fact looking back now all that interested me was getting him in
bed and finding out what he had between his legs. He was the complete
polar opposite of Andrew. He had dropped out of high school, had trouble
finding a job, and really had nothing going for him. But still I
persisted until I got what I wanted.

One night in early March I brought him back to my house and we wound up
in bed. He was completely unexperienced and as I slowly took his clothes
off and revealed the prize I'd been so waiting to taste, my haste to
suck him off ended fairly quick with him blowing his load after about
five minutes. His dick wasn't anything special, average at best. A small
crop of pubic hair, a hairy sack with smallish nuts that shot a decent
sized load onto his stomach as I brought him to orgasm while my own hard
cock drooled precum all over the inside of my briefs. My efforts were not
reciprocated this time, which was fine. Eventually a few nights later he
blew me, which was sufficient I suppose, but nothing like what Andrew had
done to me so many times. For me it was all about feeling his hard dick
in my mouth, and eventually inside me. That seemed to be all that
mattered.

While it was fairly easy to hook up with Kevin whenever I wanted, I
quickly grew tired of the idea that there would be any future between us.
The realization that this kid had no focus in life, nor did he have any
desire to finish his education was a complete turnoff to me. Where Andrew
had a college degree and was very intelligent, this kid was like a lost
head case. I soon found myself once again looking at the ads in the
personal section in the newspaper again.

All of this time Andrew and I did maintain contact with each other on a
once a month frequency, but it was mainly through email at work and an
occasional voice mail. I kept my activities in the personal ads away from
him, and still maintained the lie that I wanted to live the straight life
for the time being.

Soon my desires to find someone new led me to answering another personal
ad.  Danny's ad said that he was twenty three, five foot -- seven, one
hundred and twenty pounds. Immediately the thought of being with a thin
twenty -- something was an incredible turn on, one that made me hard at
the very thought of being with a cute young guy that thin. He had dark
hair, blue eyes and sounded like someone that would fuel my desire. My
horniness reached such a level that just reading his ad made me jack off
in bed, spraying cum all over my chest as I fantasized about being with
this guy.

As luck would have it, he did call me back after hearing my message.  We
eventually decided to meet after having a few phone conversations. In
order to meet somewhere safe, we agreed to meet at the mall in Machesney
Park. When we finally met at the mall, his physical description sent me
into overdrive thinking about how much raw sexual fun there could be with
this boy. Just as described, he was almost pencil thin, not much more
than skin and bones, in fact very waifish, if you will. He was even
skinnier than Josh. That first night we met and talked for quite a bit,
my cock was half hard the entire time.

There was one huge problem that struck me about Danny. He was very
effeminate and while he was not out and proud like Josh, it was obvious
his mannerisms and actions that he was indeed gay. That presented me with
a problem if anything long term was to develop between Danny and me. But
like Kevin, it was soon quite obvious to me that the only thing there
would potentially be between Danny and me would be just plain and simply
sex.

So of course it was now becoming easier to get just that. Where there was
apprehension about sleeping with Andrew early on in our relationship,
there was literally no qualms about getting these boy toys into bed after
just one or two dates. The first time Danny came to visit me at my house,
we soon wound up naked in bed making out. Where Kevin was inexperienced,
awkward, and more than likely was a virgin when he shot his first load,
Danny was experienced and more attractive.

This attractiveness was obviously quite a turn on for me. While we were
making out, it wasn't long before he was sucking on my dick and my
desires to be with a skinny guy finally came true. As much as he turned
me on physically, his cock and balls left something to be desired. His
cock was only about five inches and thin when it was fully erect, and his
balls were quite small as well. Still this turned me on as my cock stayed
hard all the time playing with him that first night.

For whatever reason, after making out for about an hour and kissing and
sucking each other, my desire was to have him in me. That was an epic
failure. He couldn't stay hard enough to keep the condom on, and even
when he tried to bareback me in my own desperation to feel him inside of
me, he could not stay hard.

It then dawned on me that this kid was a bottom boy. Why did I miss the
clues? It seemed like to me that he'd have no problem fucking me, giving
me what I needed, but in my own lack of gay sexual knowledge, it was
something that was missed.

This did not become a problem. As much as I loved feeling a cock fucking
me deeply, remember that prior to meeting Andrew there were a few girls
that I'd fucked and really did enjoy it. So it was no problem when it
came to fucking Danny.

Yes, he was quite a bottom bitch. But as much as he loved being fucked
and I did enjoy fucking him, our sexual rendezvous were few and far
between. Spring had arrived and spring soon became summer, which meant
that the part time landscaping business with my dad started again, which
meant that my free time was very limited again.

I did keep in contact with both of my two new fuck buddies and would see
them each on separate occasions as necessary. The idea of being in a
relationship with either Danny or Kevin never entered my mind There just
was no desire to have anything else with them but sex.

The summer soon turned to fall, and I soon drifted away from both of
them, coming to the realization that neither of them would equal what I
had with Andrew. And the idea of getting back together with Andrew was
something that was not part of my thoughts, nor was it a part of
Andrew's thoughts either. We went for months without talking to each
other, our former relationship of four years was officially dead.

******

At some point in early fall I had gone shopping one weekday to a local
store that has long since faded away to being another big box store that
has met its demise. Since I loved listening to music, this particular
store had everything media related for the mid -- nineties. Media Play
was like a toy store for me. I could never escape that store without
buying at least two or three CD's or even a book or a video cassette
movie.  Yeah, a video cassette. Remember them? Predecessor to the DVD
which has now given way to online movie rentals. Man, how technology has
changed.  How crazy is it now to think that you can go to the music
section at Barnes and Noble and find more LP's than you can CD's?
Seriously? What will make a comeback next...8 track tapes?

Sorry to jump off track there.  At least we know the reasons why big box
stores like Media Play no longer exist.  Thank you Amazon...

The point is that on that nice fall day I was perusing the smooth jazz
section of the CD's when my eye caught someone familiar walking by me on
the opposite aisle. The casual glance didn't seem to register in my mind
right away, as focusing on finding the desired musical selection was my
way of pretending or refusing to acknowledge who I'd just seen.

But that method failed and before long the individual who I'd not seen
in close to five years was now standing close by me.

"Austin?" she said, in an inquisitive voice, acting surprised to see me
there.

"Lynnette. How are you?" was my reply, also acting surprised to run
into her there at that store at that particular moment.

"I am well, and you? What brings you here during the day? Are you on
vacation?"

"No, I work second shift and just came down here to see if I could find
some new music. What about you?"

"I also work second shift at the newspaper. And I'm also here to find
new music. Wow, it's great to see you."

"You too." I was still in disbelief that after breaking up with her
some five years ago that I would see her again. Recalling what caused us
to break up back then was that I'd made the comment to her that I was
ready to settle down, get married and start a family. She pretty much ran
away from me as fast as she could back then, which led to the five year
hiatus in our relationship and friendship. Although that particular time
was the second time we'd gotten back together then broken up, I figured
I'd never see her again, let alone consider dating her again. But
what's the saying, third time is a charm?

We talked for awhile that afternoon, exchanged numbers and vowed to get
in touch with each other again.

About a week or so later I gave Lynnette a call. We talked for nearly an
hour after work until nearly three in the morning.  This was my typical
night after work, so it was a great way to spend my otherwise very quiet
nights after work. I have to admit it was nice to talk with her again. We
always had a fair amount in common -- we both liked the same music, the
same type of movies, television shows, etc. We also knew how to make each
other laugh and have a good time. Interestingly enough, Lynette was a
writer, and was close to getting published. At the time I did not know
what genre she wrote, but it turned out she basically wrote romance
novels which is just a step above writing porn, correct? Okay, maybe not
quite so close, but still sex filled just maybe not so blatant.

We began dating again. This notion probably has many of you shaking your
head wondering what the hell I was thinking. I get that and probably
should have seen a shrink. But the odd thing was that even though this
woman wasn't what you'd call hot or even close, we did enjoy each
other's company and when the time came for us to enjoy each other
physically, I did "rise" to the occasion and satisfied her over and
over again. In fact while fucking her at her upstairs apartment near
downtown Rockford, I couldn't imagine being with Andrew, Josh, Kevin, or
Danny. It felt that good, and I had nothing to hide.

We continued dating through the remainder of '95 and into the near year.
We decided to go to Fort Myers, Florida on vacation to see some of her
friends. She'd spent a year or so working at a newspaper there, so the
best part was that we'd be able to stay with her friends most of the
time and would only have to stay in a couple of hotels, mainly one in
Tampa before flying back home.

The trip was awesome. It felt great to escape the harsh and brutally cold
January winter for a week. We spent a great week eating good food,
drinking quite a bit, and fucking just as much if not even more. She was
on the pill, so thankfully she didn't get pregnant on that trip. I hated
using condoms, so of course the sex was phenomenal.

At this point in our renewed relationship, I reflected back over the last
few months and tried to rationalize what I was doing.  In the last six
months I had gone from screwing around with two random young guys I'd
met through a newspaper personals dating section to rekindling a
relationship with a woman I'd known for close to ten years who worked
for the newspaper. Irony or just plain coincidence? As long as she
didn't have anything to do with the dating section of the newspaper I'd
probably be okay. In essence, my lifestyle for the past four and a half
years was probably safely tucked away in the back of my mind and no
remnants remained so she would find out. The main takeaway from the past
three months of dating Lynette again was that I had nothing to hide
anymore as far as being out in public with her.

I can imagine that several if not everyone who is reading this probably
are shaking their heads and calling me a confused fool. I deserve that.
But what must be reiterated is that I had dated women before and at this
point in my life had felt that having sex with a woman was very
enjoyable. From the first girl who stole my cherry and enjoyed giving me
head on almost a daily basis when I was twenty one to the chick from work
who had a tasty pussy to Lynette, having my cock firmly implanted deep
inside them when I blew my load was indeed pleasurable. There was
something natural about being inside a woman that did feel right to me.
So how could I call myself exclusively gay if I loved fucking a woman?
Did the bisexual label fit me better, if indeed I needed to wear a label
on my shirt saying "Hello, my name is Austin, I am a bisexual!" No, I
don't think so!

I decided to live for the moment and not worry about who I was.

Ironically Lynette knew two gay guys that she'd known since high
school.  Jim and James were a couple who had been dating since high
school. They were in a committed relationship and were fairly active in
the community.  They were also out and proud. Both of them were super
nice guys and they both treated me very well. Thankfully, I'd not run
across them during my time with Andrew as most of the time while we would
spend our time in Madison or Chicago rather than be in the gay community
in Rockford.  For that reason I was happy that we avoided the Rockford
scene. I felt confident that their gaydar had not picked up any signals I
might have been emitting; after all I was well over ninety percent
straight acting and appearing.

When Lynette and I returned from our Florida vacation we both agreed that
we felt like the separation after being together for a week was
difficult. We both felt like we wanted to be with each other more than
just a couple of nights a week. The discussion came up about living
together. She suggested that I sell my house and move in to her apartment
in downtown Rockford. I vehemently disagreed. It made no sense to me to
leave a house that I'd poured my heart, body, and soul into for nearly a
year only to sell it and move into a rented apartment. After discussing
this idea for a week or so, she finally agreed to move into my house in
South Beloit.

The move took place at the end of March. Her things mixed with my things
and soon we had our home together.

So happily ever after, right?

I am sure many of you think that my story has come to an end, leaving you
the reader feeling upset and completely pissed off at me for ending it
this way.

Not so fast.