Guillaume Bacharene

 

bacharene@gmail.com

 

This story is again bit of fact and fiction although based on some key, factual details. Names have been changed for privacy protection purposes. I reiterate that a mixture of fact and fiction is what good writing is about, and, one has to write, above all, for the reader. Getting the words right and telling a wonderful story to which readers can relate is key. Words can move and induce a sense of involvement and identity. The wonderful feedback I receive is an absolute reward.

 

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Carlos' Story – Part II

 

Professor Carlos Gubain always followed a strict morning ritual. He liked structure in his life, as an enforced discipline otherwise his natural tendency would be to live life as a stream of consciousness. In the academic world, that is never good; it opens the door to vulnerability. In life, allowing oneself to be vulnerable is a mark of strength; in academia, it is a mark of insanity. So, his morning ritual included getting up, doing his teeth, preparing his habitual tisane and oatmeal and allowing them to cool while he tended to the dog's needs. He then had a shower, shaved and dressed followed by cooled tisane and oatmeal and a flick through the paper. Actually, the dog was more like a cat in temperament and rarely got excited by anything. But, he too expected structure. Any diversion and the dog noticed. It had the capacity to frown and make Carlos feel admonished. It unsettled his day as if the dog had the ability to introduce some demonic portent into his life. He took the dog seriously.

 

This particular morning was no exception. After showering and dressing, Carlos sat at his informal table, sipping tisane and eating his oatmeal. He flicked through the paper, not really interested much in anything, mirroring the dog. It was probably going to be a day to be survived. The dog slumbered. Carlos had met the dog's expectations and now, its own self-absorbed routine had kicked in. It wasn't perhaps that the dog was ungrateful. It was merely a creature of structure and habit and it had certain standards. It also had all of its needs provided for, as of right. It needed no complication arising from moral debate, reciprocity and responsibility.

 

Carlos thought of James as he passed the Personals. "L'homme propose, le Dieu dispose," Carlos mused.

 

Since he had James had discovered their rampant passion, Carlos' life had taken on an entirely new dimension. He now had options and James was in love with him. At first he had worried. Was this really real? Genuine? Love had not really figured in his forward planning at all. It had arrived with a flourish and he needed to fit it all within his overall plans. And, it was complicated.

 

For some months he and the Dean had been preparing to move his teaching to one day and allow supervision time for two capable doctoral students at a time. James was an extra since he was well advanced and actually writing his dissertation. For James, therefore, the worst was over. He had survived and had a clear focus on what he believed. He was now writing, doing the fun part and seeing the end goal. As Carlos knew better than most, the process of research could be a fickle mistress and for many, the mistress became a dominatrix. Carlos knew it all too well after countless PhD students. A PhD was a journey: it made some and broke many. Those who survived could survive anything.

 

Part of the new Carlos was that he and the Dean had appointed a full-time replacement for him and he was moving to a new office. His old office had been repainted and the "new" Carlos was called Felicity. He liked her. They connected. The Dean was delighted. Effectively, Carlos was irreplaceable but Felicity filled the initial void and would grow.

 

There had been some attendant academic dynamics. At least, that was until the Dean heard of it and put a stop to it all. The mindless colleague responsible for office allocations had intended to move Carlos into a windowless basement office, to be shared with three lesser part-time mortals. To compensate for the gloom, the person responsible for the colour scheme had dictated daffodil yellow doors and walls painted in a nasty, acidic, raw blue. Bookcases had a burnt orange edging. It was enough to induce a permanent desire to vomit. However, the Dean would have none of it and insisted on Carlos having a smaller office close his own, allowing Carlos to decide on the colour scheme but also the furniture. Carlos had chosen earthy tones and faux leather since the budget was limited. "Very masculine," the Dean had said.  One big downside was that Carlos had to transport most of his office library home. The new office had been a research assistant's office and had enough room for way less than a hundred books. As his home was already groaning under the burden of thousands of books, it merely transferred the problem there. Boxes of books sat all over Carlos' house, waiting for a solution to be decided. Carlos decided that all would happen in due course. He could effectively procrastinate since the dog had no interest whatever in books.

 

One thing to which the dog had had to adjust as part of a new routine was having James in the house at least several nights a week. Carlos had the dog and James had none so the arrangement made sense. So, instead of music and reflective times spent reading when Carlos was alone, there was now also much animated discussion and more wine being drunk. James did, however, endear himself to the dog by taking it on its evening walk while Carlos cooked dinner and if James cooked, Carlos did the walking. Habitually, James would arrive around 6:30pm, they would have a glass of wine and a catch up and then the dog's needs were met. It became a happy routine. James brought bubble and fun to the house by his mere presence. When he smiled, the whole house smiled and, Carlos smiled. Every day Carlos realised that James brought completion too. In turn, James realised that Carlos completed his life. They both sparkled. They were in love. They were creating a new world and a new future. And, Carlos felt blessed, that he deserved James. It had been a long time coming, after all. It wasn't so much spoils to the victor, he had mused; more, victory to the patient ones who had always maintained the highest expectations.

 

Sexually too, they had both discovered a world hitherto hidden. The passion, intensity and depth of their lovemaking had lifted both to another plane.  They made love when they went to bed; they made love during the night; they made love in the morning and, on weekends, several times during the day as well. It made James more beautiful; it made Carlos more beautiful. Carlos especially loved how James never stinted on his affections. There was a lot of touching, caressing, kissing. And, all the emotional and sexual intensity, was expanded by the intellectual. James loved Carlos' incisive mind. And at almost 65 years of age, Carlos felt blessed, rewarded, as if his patience, which at times had worried him as being all too "ascetic", had been at last, smiled upon by all the gods of creation, the affections, the feelings: Apollo, Priapus, Dionysus, Aphrodite, Venus. The gods had rewarded him and James was the key offering and prize. And James exuded sexuality. It smouldered away within his eyes and every pore and when he smiled it was if all the volcanoes on earth had joined together. But, James too looked at Carlos as the completion of many missing parts in his life. It was balanced and integrated perfection in the making. Without even trying, they had even sorted out who fucked whom and when. It was as if a natural rule had fallen into place and required no negotiation. When James' cock was deep inside Carlos; when Carlos' cock was deep inside James, the result was the same: completion; perfection.

 

Over dinner one night, it came up rather spontaneously. James said as he looked over his glass of red:

 

"I've been thinking about the future, Carlos. You are gradually letting your academic career take second place and here I am at 32 and mine is about to take off. And yet I see a perfect balance. I am thinking of selling my place. If you wish, I can either move here or we can buy somewhere together. Your thoughts?"

 

Carlos smiled:

 

"I've been thinking about that too. I've always had this romantic dream about Nova Scotia or Maine on the one hand and then retiring to the south of France as well. You complete it but of course, I am here for the long haul and, wherever your academic career takes us first, I am there for the entire journey. Now, whatever the gods determine, I am there.

 

One night, as they lay in each other's arms following a more than three-hour love making session, James' now soft cock still deep in Carlos' ass, James asked:

 

"Do you ever think that this is just too perfect, Carlos?"

 

Carlos though for a moment, the question almost too heavy as he came back to earth; as he savoured the intense and heady aromas of their bodies and their boundless passion:

 

"James, my love, I've waited a long time for perfection and now, not only have I found it, I am not giving it up! Does that answer your question?"

 

As their tongues entwined, meanwhile, deep in Carlos' ass, James' cock began to stiffen. It was going to be a very long and sleepless night. There were matters of passion and desire anew to be satisfied.

 

As their lives became ever more interwoven and practicalities had to be sorted, Carlos and James embarked with great enthusiasm on the new journey together, talking things through and finding consensus. James was aware of Carlos' admirers, "la collection de messieurs". Carlos had told him. "Les messieurs" were essentially a collection of oddities, who arrived in Carlos' life and whose needs had always assumed precedence over those of Carlos, who for years had been overtly and selflessly accommodating. The arrangement after all suited him and met his needs, all frustrations aside. He had really not wanted commitment on such a casual level and, the various "messieurs" came with dynamics all of their own. However, with James now fully in his life, the entire equation had changed. A new formula was needed. So, Carlos began the process of closing access by the various "messieurs" and letting them know, politely and one by one that he had met the man of his dreams, who had walked into his life, smiling, ready and committed. All understood. This was about Carlos making a choice for himself, just as they had made choices for themselves. It was thus a totally equitable deal. Monsieur Confort Militaire took it the hardest, having become totally enamoured with Carlos and discovered an intensity of passion he never knew with his wife. "Oh the complex webs we some of us weave ourselves," Carlos had thought out loud. Then, Monsieur Veuve was moving south and his own new life; Monsieur Voitures was in the process of retiring and Monsieur Policier was philosophical. There would be another and perhaps, others. All parted on amicable terms. Now, Carlos was in control.

 

Carlos deleted his old email address and disconnected his cell phone, taking up another deal with a different company. At any rate, he had been careful not to divulge where he worked or lived so there was no possibility of any of his "messieurs" turning up heartbroken at his office or his house, as unexpected and as unlikely as that possibility was. However, it did make the matter of living arrangements, one of importance and priority. Over a nice bottle of Ch‰teau Paraza "Les Baronnies" 2009 one evening, Carlos and James considered all options. Novia Scotia or Maine could wait. That was long term although both reasoned it could be a distant weekender and vacation place.  But, they had to consolidate as a mark of absolute trust and commitment. They decided to sell both places and then to buy something together.  Each made a list of three things: essentials; nice to have but not essential; not important but a bonus. Both were not surprised at the synergies: their lists were virtually identical. In different order, both arrived at essentials as being a garden with summer outdoor living options, privacy, guest suite, good kitchen, garage for two cars, two office areas, wine cellar and a pleasant urban or semi-rural area.

 

Piet, a realtor friend of James, came and did valuations on their houses as well as working out a marketing plan for both and making a list of suggestions of things to be done in order to maximise sale prices. James' house needed very little since it was comparatively new. Carlos' house, dating from the late 1790s had historical cachet but needed some upgrades, mostly plumbing and electrics and placing much into storage in order to create a "minimalist clapboard and wainscot chic" look.  As it turned out, buyer interest in both places was instant and sustained and before they had time to think and plan, and before they had even begun to look seriously at properties themselves, Carlos and James were receiving offers. The pressure was on so they had to move fast so as not to be homeless. Accordingly they settled on Wednesday evening viewings and Saturdays. Piet did a great job pre-viewing and selecting specific places for them to view. One in particular stood out. It was in an area closer to the university and situated on a slight rise. Both liked the wooded nature of the area and the privacy it exuded. The property had an electronic gate and a meandering drive with trees and greenery rather than flower gardens. The house itself was low-slung. Carlos and James were both immediately impressed. It offered much already: a large area, privacy with high walls and mature trees, low maintenance, master suite and guest wing at opposite ends of the house, large kitchen with plenty of space for storage and a huge garage with additional storeroom, TV room, office area able to be divided by a sliding door, endless book shelves, dining area and living spaces overlooking a terrace and the garden. It was perfect.

 

Thereafter things moved very fast. Within a week, both had accepted offers on their houses and their offer on the `perfect' house was also accepted. Within a month they had packed and moved. A horde of Carlos' MA students helped them with moving and they hosted thank you drinks and a barbecue surrounded by boxes. The following night after a frenzied day of unpacking and organising, they had the living room, kitchen and bedroom sorted. Doors were shut on the rest of the unopened boxes, all allocated at least to their correct rooms. James had a real talent for organisation and allocation as it turned out. It was a great relief to Carlos who would otherwise have found the entire process overwhelming.

 

Piet had given them a box of six Pol et Roger and six Krug champagnes as a house warming gift, all chilled in the wine chiller. Carlos had made tartines au foie gras and rillettes de porc since Piet was coming for a celebratory dinner with his Danish boyfriend, Uffe. He had also made chicken tenderloins with lemon and garlic, laced with cognac and basil, garlic pasta and a green salad with caramelised pear crpes. It was all so effortless in the new kitchen, which had space and flow. The dog had plenty of private space and places to explore in the garden although James nominally took it for a walk about the property. Jessica, the new rabbit, had a vast hutch and run and the trees were full of birds, living their own lives in contentment.

 

Piet and Uffe arrived as James was setting up on the terrace, aromas from the kitchen wafting out and into the garden. Carlos opened a Krug. They all felt proud, happy and relieved.

 

"The house looks amazing," Uffe had said, "like a private resort."

 

It was true. The Krug offered the perfect accompaniment effectively to `open' the house up. Piet and Uffe were good company. Uffe was completing his PhD in comparative linguistics and so there was much held in common. Piet, as it turned out had been a stockbroker and financial advisor before moving into real estate.

 

And, dinner was an effortless and culinary triumph. After Piet and Uffe had left, James and Carlos cleaned up and went to bed. They still had their final celebration of the evening to complete, after all.

 

James took control, straddling Carlos. Carlos' lubed cock slipping effortlessly into James' asshole. Flexing his ass muscles, James began to massage Carlos' cock as he leaned forward and they kissed and as Carlos gently swirled his lubed fingers around the head of James' cock.

 

"Happy house warming James."

 

"Happy house warming Carlos."

 

Perfection and completion are worth waiting for; having faith that both conditions are there for all. As they lay in each other's arms,

"L'homme propose, le Dieu dispose," Carlos again mused.