This story may occasionally include explicit depictions of sexual acts between consenting adult males. If you are underage or it is illegal to view this for any reason, consider yourself warned. If you find this material offensive, please leave.
This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to people, living or dead, is entire a coincidence. Everyone lives in my head. As the author, I retain all rights to this story, and it cannot be reproduced or published without explicit consent from me. This work is copyright © 2017 by Steven Wells.
I love to hear any feedback you have, be it positive or negative. Send me an email with any comments or questions at firstname.lastname@example.org.
"You think I'm dumping you for a hardheaded, self-centered, gutless asshole?" I exclaimed. "I know now he's not a person I can love. I see that now... One last thing I need to say... I hate to admit this... after all this time fighting you... about us forming... a permanent relationship..., but... I... I... I love you, too."
Cory's smile brightened one hundred percent. "Does this mean you'll move in with me?"
I smiled back at Cory. "We need to agree on how we handle financial matters, but yes."
"Now we have something to celebrate!" Cory exclaimed.
"On one condition," I began. "Do not buy me an Armani tux while I'm not looking. Otherwise, the deal is off!"
"Got it," Cory replied. "And we'll figure out the financial arrangements. Just be patient."
"I'm nothing but patient, sweetie," I said before I put my hand on top of Cory's. "Just think. We have Garrett Wilson to thank for our moving in together."
We paused our conversation. I felt Cory's eyes locked on me.
"Cory," I said finally breaking the silence. My eyes found Cory's. "Garret Wilson hurt me when he chose his father's wealth and social standing over me. And I needed time to heal so I could forgive him. You're my healer, Cory. You made me realize I could love someone again and not be afraid of getting hurt."
"No, mother!" I screamed into the phone. I had promised Cory I would call my mother. I should have listened to my inner gay boy. "I have not given up the `gay lifestyle.' I will never give up the `gay lifestyle.' In fact, mother, I permanently moved into my boyfriend's condo."
"Oh my God!" my mother screamed into the phone. "How can you do this to me. I'm a Godfearing woman who tried to live right and raise my sons to be good Christian men. But, no, I have two faggots who used to me my sons. Good bye!"
I heard her phone slam down.
"That went well," I said aloud to myself.
"Rough phone call?" Fletcher asked.
"I knew better," I explained. "But I promised Cory I'd at least try to make inroads into healing my rift with my family. It didn't work this time. It never worked before. And it will never work in the future... Do you still have family around, Fletcher?"
"No," Fletcher replied. "My mother passed away one year ago, so it's just me."
"I'm sorry, Fletcher," I quietly said.
"I have a play in my head," Fletcher continued. "One set. Two main characters. A smattering of minor characters. It's about the last three months of my mother's life. The discussions, the laughs, the moments spent crying because she was dying. It's set in her small bedroom."
"If I can help you get it on paper, I'll be happy to help," I said. "It might help you find closure."
"Maybe you should consider writing a play, Connor," Fletcher said with a smile.
"Maybe I should," I replied. "You could write part one and I could write part two. We could call it Mothers. The good mother vs the bad mother. Compare and contrast... Fletcher, you look like you want to say something, and I don't think it is about writing a play from the look in your eyes."
Fletcher reached into his backpack and pulled out an envelope.
"This came in the mail today," Fletcher began as he handed me the envelope. It was from Emerson. "I can't open it."
"Would you like me to open it for you, Fletcher?" I asked.
"Please," Fletcher said. He looked like he was ready to bite off his fingernails.
I opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. I began reading, "Dear Mr. Miller...: Congratulations! It is with immense pleasure that I inform you of your acceptance at Emerson College Department of Performing Arts in Theatre & Performance (BFA). This opportunity comes in recognition of your academic and personal achievements, and I am positive you would be a valued member of our university."
"You're shitting me!" Fletcher exclaimed. "I'm in? I've been accepted?"
"Yes, Fletcher," I replied. "You've been accepted. Congratulations!"
"Holy shit!" Fletcher exclaimed again. "They accepted me! I can't believe it! They accepted me!"
I moved beside Fletcher and pulled him out of his seat and into a bear hug.
"Yes, Fletcher. Emerson accepted you. Just a second," I said as I released Fletcher from our hug. I stepped out of my office and yelled. "Everyone! Please join me in my office. Now!"
The staff and volunteers assembled quickly.
"I have an announcement to make," I began. "Please join me in offering congratulations upon Fletcher's acceptance at Emerson College Department of Performing Arts in Theater & Performance!"
Applause erupted at the announcement of Fletcher's achievement
"Are we having a celebratory party in Fletcher's honor?" Dwain, one of our newest volunteers, asked.
"Yes," I heard from the door of my office. Cory stood just inside the door. He smiled and walked over to Fletcher. "Congratulations, Fletcher. Unless Connor has other ideas, you are welcome to celebrate at our house. Connor?"
"It would be great," I replied. "When?"
"This Friday," Cory suggested. "Cocktails at seven. Dinner at eight. Let Connor know if you will attend and whom you are bringing, if anyone."
As people filtered out of my office, Cory moved nearer me in front of my desk. He put his arms around me and kissed me.
"I think Fletcher seemed especially happy about the news," Cory said to me with his arms still around my waist. "Thank you for helping him get to this point."
"All I did is push him to the right place," I replied. "He did the rest. Fletcher is a very talented guy. His high school grades and activities, along with his tryout, put him over the top. Some other little birdy had his fingers in this besides me."
"You convinced some foundation to provide some funding for the scholarships," Cory added. "Now, can I take my boyfriend out to lunch?"
"If you have your boyfriend back in this office by one thirty this afternoon," I replied. "I have a meeting with some of the city makers and shakers. It seems the arts scene has become an interest of some influential people."
"I'll have you back in time for you to schmooze," Cory said as he led the way out the door.
"I don't understand," I exclaimed.
"The Mayor has specifically requested your help with this, Connor," Julie, the Chief of Arts and Culture for the City of Boston, began. "He's observed the Center and its forward-thinking planning behind your efforts to expand the offerings of the Center. You've enlisted the business community to support some of your programs. You've managed to secure sizeable grants to help with attracting new talent to the area. You've developed an amazing new season for the Center. You have professional experience in theater. You're a Tony winner. He wants you to be on the advisory board for the Office of Arts and Culture. We need you, Connor."
"I've barely time to function as the Center's director, Julie," I added. "How can I possibly fit this into my schedule? I'm honored to be asked, but I need to put the Center first—at least for the next few years."
"You need to do this, Connor," the head of the Center's board of directors, Harvey Ashcroft, interjected. "Julie visited our last board meeting and convinced the Center's board your participation will only benefit the Center. The prestige alone adds credence to the Center and its activities, especially with the educational grants we've put in place."
"You also must have an in with the Wainwright Family Foundation," Julie added. "We've been trying to engage with them for three years."
"Ah!" I said. "The Wainwright Family Foundation. Ah... I know someone from my time in Manhattan who works with the foundation."
"Good for you," Julie added. "So, it's a `yes' you'll join our advisory board?"
"It's still a maybe," I responded. "Let me speak with someone about my schedule. I'll let you know by the end of the week."
"I'll look forward to your decision as long as it is `yes,'" Julie said. "It was a pleasure meeting you Connor. I hope we can work together. And I loved your performance in Haywire! Absolutely magnificent. You look good in boxers, too!"
"Thank you," I replied as she and Mr. Ashcroft turned to leave.
I stepped out of my office and stood next to Tina's desk.
"What can I do for you Mr. Rodriguez?" Tina asked with a smile plastered across her face.
"Mr. Rodriguez?" I asked. "Since when have you called me Mr. Rodriguez?"
"Since you had your meeting with THE arts czar of Boston," Tina replied. "I suspect we'll be getting a little more formal around here now that our executive director will be on the advisory board of the arts council."
"Thank you, Ms. DiMaggio," I replied. "Could you hunt Cory down? I need to get his advice on a particular situation currently unfolding here in the city."
"Gladly Mr. Rodriguez," Tina responded. "I'll have you paged when I have located his whereabouts."
"Thank you, Ms. DiMaggio," I said as I left Tina's desk to hide in my office.
My phone finally rang. Cory's name appeared on the screen, "Thanks for calling," I said into the phone.
"Your assistant, Ms. DiMaggio, asked me to call Mr. Rodriguez," Cory said in his formal voice. "What can I do for you today, Mr. Rodriguez?"
"Cut the shit, Cory," I replied. "I need some advice."
"What's up?" Cory asked.
"I had the meeting with Boston's arts czar and the board of directors' chairman," I explained. "They just left a few minutes ago."
"How did it go?" Cory asked.
"It depends on the perspective one has," I continued. "I've been asked to serve on the advisory board for the Arts and Culture for the city."
"Congratulations!" Cory exclaimed.
"I haven't accepted the position," I added. "I'm already stretched too thin here at the center. I want to have a life outside of work."
"Hire someone to help you," Cory offered. "An assistant to the executive director."
"I'd spend less time doing the work than I would explaining what needs to be done," I countered.
"Not true if you learn the fine art of delegation," Cory suggested. "I'll give you lessons. You also want to find a self-starter. Someone who will see projects not moving fast enough and step in to help run them. I learned these skills in MBA 101. It's easier than you might think. You could find someone to take over the business side of your work. You need to be the public face of the center, not the grunt worker. And, while we're at it, when will you upgrade your office?"
"Teacher, is the lesson over?" I asked.
"Sorry," Cory replied. "I can get carried away sometimes. Let's talk about this tonight while we cook dinner."
"Will you be naked?" I asked with a smile.
"Not until we've finished with our discussion," Cory added. "You could be dressed in your Tony award winning boxers!"
"I'm about ready to put a sign around my neck which reads, `Don't ask about my boxers,'" I continued. "I'll be home around six-thirty. You?"
"About the same time," Cory said.
"I need to run," I said as Tina stepped into my office. "Love you."
"Love you, too," Cory said as we ended the call.
I turned my attention to Tina. "So, Ms. DiMaggio, what can I do for you?"
"We have a possible situation brewing," Tina said.
"What kind of possible situation?" I asked.
"The situation requires a great understanding of human nature and tenacity to forge a workable solution for two non-employee employees," Tina explained
"Great!" I replied. "Take care of it and let me know how the situation turned out."
"Wait!" Tina exclaimed. "You want me to make a decision regarding fighting volunteers?"
"Yes," I replied. "Thank you, Tina."
Tina looked as though a Buick hit her. But she turned and left my office.
"Delegate," I said aloud to myself.
"How many employees did you have when you started as executive director of the Center?" Cory asked.
"Two," I replied.
"How many do you have now?" Cory continued
"How many will you have in six months?"
"Probably ten. Maybe more."
"How capable is your assistant, Tina?" Cory asked.
"We had an issue with two volunteers today," I explained. "Tina came to my office to tell me I needed to run defense. I told her to take care of it and ask my advice if she needed help. She resolved the issue on her own."
"Put her in charge of employee matters and possibly even payroll," Cory suggested. "You'll need to give her a raise, of course."
"Great idea, Cory," I replied. "So, I have one less responsibility. What else can I do?"
"You need to be the pubic face of the Center and its creative leadership," Cory explained. "Find someone to handle the business and operational work for the center. An accountant or other numbers cruncher would be perfect. As the Center and its education programs grow, prepare to add other staff to handle various functions. Everyone would be under your purview. One weekly or monthly meeting and it's all handled."
"How do I find these people?" I asked.
"Advertise in the paper, put out feelers, talk to colleagues," Cory concluded. "Now, about your office... It desperately needs an update. The Center's image has grown and will continue to grow. You need an office in keeping with your position and the image you want the Center to reflect. I know an interior designer who specializes on office layout and redesign. I'll give you his contact information tomorrow when I'm in the office."
"So, you really think my office looks like shit?" I asked.
"Yes," Cory said with a smile. "Dinner is almost ready."
"Can we eat quickly?" I asked.
"What's the rush?" Cory asked.
"I want you naked and in bed with me so I can do funny things with your body," I said with a smile.
Cory kissed me and then handed me a dish to put on the kitchen island. "We'll be as fast as possible."
"Fletcher!" I exclaimed as I opened the door to find our guest of honor standing in front of me. "Welcome to your celebration party."
"Thanks for arranging this, Connor," Fletcher said as I grabbed him for a hug. We pulled away, and Fletcher presented his drop dead gorgeous guest. "This is my friend Micah. Micah, this is Connor Rodriquez. Micah has been my rock for the last few years."
"It's nice to meet you Micah, and welcome to our home," I said just as Cory rounded the corner. "And this is my boyfriend, Cory Wainwright."
"Thank you for hosting this gathering for Fletcher," Micah said to Cory and me. "He's told me about all the help you have given him so he could have a fresh start in the theater."
"I just helped with some of the paperwork," I added. "Fletcher did all the real work. His flawless audition and his love of acting gave him his real start. It looks as though we all could use a drink. The bartender will get you anything you'd like."
Fletcher and Micah's arrival signaled the barrage of guests arriving in an almost non-stop line.
Tina had volunteered to work the door while Fletcher and I circulated among the guests.
Taylor Gordon and his husband were the last to arrive. They migrated to another group of guys.
I led Fletcher to a group of our corporate donors.
"Fletcher, I'd like you to meet some people who've been very generous to the center during the past few months," I said. I began the introductions from left to right. "Noel and John Ramirez-Sanchez, Chris and Gavin Barton-DiMarco, and Taylor and Jay Gordon. And this is our guest of honor Fletcher Stone."
"You must be excited about starting a new journey," Taylor said after everyone had exchanged pleasantries.
"I think I am," Fletcher said with a smile. "I keep asking myself if this is a dream."
Cory joined us. He put his arm around my waist. "The caterers are ready to serve dinner. Do you want to say something before, Connor?"
"Sure," I said as Cory and I moved to the end of the living room. I stepped from the floor onto the ledge of the fireplace to give me some height.
"Cory and I welcome you to our home to celebrate this very special occasion," I began as the roar of voices subsided. "As you all know, we are here tonight to celebrate Fletcher Stone's new journey into the world of the theater. His time at Emerson will mark the beginning of an especially successful career in the theater. We're proud Fletcher represents the Boston Center for the Arts first scholarship. Others will follow, but Fletcher will be, I am certain, a role model for all those who do follow. Now, Fletcher. You're on."
Fletcher took my place.
"I'm not much of a public speaker, and I was nervous about addressing all of you. Then, I realized if I just think of this as a script I can actually make a short speech..."
"First, I want to thank our hosts, Connor Rodriguez and Cory Wainwright... I'm here celebrating tonight because of two people in my life. The first isn't with us tonight. My mother gave me the courage and showed me how to live life and to dream. The second person is with us tonight. Connor Rodriguez helped me begin to live one part of my dream. I've dreamed of being an actor since I started school at the Fenway Arts Academy here in Boston. I never thought it would happen. I didn't have the resources or the self-esteem to believe I could study acting in college. Connor helped me find both the resources and the self-esteem. And, Connor, I will do my best not to let you down. I'll be forever grateful to you, Connor, and the people responsible for starting the scholarships the Center awards."
Fletcher paused to wipe a tear from his cheek.
"Thank you to all of you who took the time to join me in celebrating the beginning of what I know will be an inspiring period in my life. Thank you!"
The applause grew as Fletcher hopped off the ledge and pulled me into a bear hug. The night continued with lots of food, lively conversations, and tremendous excitement as we celebrated Fletcher's success.
The guests began to filter out of the apartment around eleven. I closed the door behind me one last time after Cory and I said good bye to our guest of honor.
My eyes fluttered awake. I felt the bed where Cory should be. He didn't occupy the space he did when we went to sleep. I glanced at the clock.
"Eight fucking o'clock! What is that man thinking?" I said aloud to myself.
I stumbled out of bed, naked as usual, and made my way towards the smell of bacon and coffee.
"Well hello, boyfriend!" Cory exclaimed as he saw me walk through the kitchen doorway. "Did you sleep well?"
"Why, in God's name, are you awake?" I asked. "We didn't get to bed until three am. It's Saturday. I don't work today. You don't work today. You'll go to sleep. I'll go to sleep."
"We were in bed long before three am, Connor," Cory said with a smile.
"We weren't sleeping," I responded in my sleepy, groggy voice.
"I like your hair all messed up," Cory added as he kissed. "You're so sexy. So hot."
"Stop talking and let's go back to bed," I growled.
"You UNGRATEFUL boyfriend!" Cory said with mock sternness. "I'm making you breakfast. We can go back to bed after we eat. We need nourishment. How are you feeling this morning, by the way?"
"I'm walking funny," I replied as I snuggled into his arms. "But I wouldn't be averse to a repeat."
"Have a seat," Cory said as he motioned to the kitchen island already set with two place settings. "I made a batch of Mimosas. Help yourself."
"Thank you, Sweetie," I said as I sat naked on the bar stool. "I thought I should move my book case and sofa bed to the condo. We could put it in the formal living room. You might need to move one of the custom-built leather sofas out of the room."
Cory turned to face me with a spatula in his hand. He looked horrified with my statement.
"Not a problem," Cory replied. "This is our place now. We need to integrate our possessions and style. I've always liked eclectic."
"You're kidding, right?" I asked.
"No," Cory replied. "I understand you want some of your possessions in the place we live."
"Don't worry, Cory," I finally said. "The only possession I would care to move is an original piece of artwork. The rest I'm comfortable with giving to Boomerangs."
"You don't have anything else which you prefer to keep other than the artwork?" Cory asked in surprise.
"Nope," Cory replied. "I collected my furniture from some of the most prestigious thrift shops in Manhattan. So, no, nothing else needs to be moved."
"What's the art work?" Cory asked.
"A watercolor by Tammy Phillips," I replied. "'Rainy Day in Rome 2'."
"You're shitting me?" Cory asked in surprise.
"No," I replied. "She and a friend of mine in Haywire were cousins. She liked me despite my sinful appearance during "It Wasn't Me" in the show, and she gave it to me. She said she'd never known a Tony winner before."
"We'll make a special place for it," Cory
"Thanks," I replied as I stood behind Cory who busied himself flipping pancakes. I slid my arms around his waist. "Can we hurry brunch so I can get you back into bed?"
"If you insist," Cory replied. "It will only take a few minutes more."
"Other than another round of sex, what else is on your agenda for today?" I asked.
"Nothing special," Cory replied. "You?"
"I promised myself I will not set foot in the Center until Monday," I replied. "I need a break."
"How would you like to go for a drive?" Cory asked. "We could head north and see where we land."
"Sure," I replied. "I like spontaneous. I didn't think you did, though."
"Of course, I like spontaneous," Cory countered.
"When did you last do something spontaneous?" I asked.
"I asked for a transfer so I could handle the family business here in Boston," Cory explained as I tightened my grip around his waist.
"Your move to Boston was about as spontaneous as the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace," I countered.
Cory turned in my arms to face me with a spatula in his hands. "Are you insinuating I planned this move to Boston just to get your naked body in bed with me?"
"Yes," I replied. "Sometimes you have a one-track mind, Cory. Remember, I knew you in New York when you only had one thing on your mind... Getting me in bed with you."
"Okay so I never did a spontaneous thing in my life," Cory admitted. "I can start, can't I?"
"Yes," I replied. "As long as you fuck me before we leave for our drive."
"Deal," Cory agreed. He leaned in to kiss me. "I don't know what I would do without you, Connor."
"You'd still be paying for sex," I explained.
"You'd still be getting paid for sex, too," Cory added with another kiss. "I need to finish before the entire breakfast is toast."
"If you must, leave me wanting more," I began as I released Cory. "I'll suffer in silence."
Cory turned and looked at me as though he looked over his glasses.
"Okay! Okay!" I exclaimed. "You win. We'll eat your fucking breakfast!"
"Give me two minutes," Cory replied while I watched his dick plump up a little.
"Okay," I replied. "I'll have another Mimosa while I wait."
We did finish our breakfast quickly. Cory slipped dishes into the dishwasher while I tidied up the counters.
As I rinsed the sink, Cory put his arms around my waist and began kissing the back of my neck. I felt his hard dick rub against the crack of my ass.
"Someone's eager," I said quietly.
"I can't help it if I have a sexy naked boyfriend with my arms around him," Cory whispered into my ear.
"Cory?" I asked.
"Yes," Cory said as he continued to nibble on my nose.
"Do you love me for my body or for my mind?" I asked.
"Your mind of course," Cory replied.
I pulled back. "What's wrong with my body? I thought you liked my body!"
"Follow me, and I'll show you just how much I like your body," Cory whispered as he grabbed my hand and headed toward the bedroom.
I followed closely behind and watched his perfectly muscled ass move as he walked. He surprised me by slipping on the bed on his back. He pulled me down with him.
"Connor," Cory whispered. "Make love to me. Please."
He surprised me. "Make love to you? Me? It's usually the other way around."
"It's time you did it then," Cory whispered.
"What brought this on?" I asked as I kiss him.
"I want to feel you in me, Connor," Cory whispered back as he reacted to my kisses. "I need it so much. Besides, I want to give you something I've never given anyone else."
"Wow!" I whispered. "My boyfriend is a virgin?"
"Yes," Cory replied. "Please, Connor."
"I'd be honored," I said to Cory as I planted a kiss on his lips. "We need to get you ready, though."
As if I were acting in slow motion, I began the process of stretching Cory. One finger. Two fingers. Three fingers.
All my life I'd been on the bottom. My paying customers always wanted my ass. I might find someone who wanted to suck me off before he fucked me, but I've always been on the bottom.
And here I am. I took in the scene in front of me. My naked, sexy, beautiful boyfriend stretched out in front of me. His legs raised and opened to allow me access to his sweet asshole. Cory had become my stud, protector, and best friend in a few short months.
I finally realized the trust I gave to Cory. The trust in each other. Now, as I'm perched between Cory's legs, working his beautiful asshole with my fingers, I want him, and I want him badly.
I'd never experienced the feelings now surging through my body. And the love. There's that word again, "love." It's the word I'd always avoided. The word wasn't spoken with any of my paying gigs. The word wasn't spoken in any of my earlier relationships.
I never let a relationship get to the trust and love stage before. This man, my lover and protector, made me see how beautiful the word and feelings accompanied by love can be.
Our eyes had locked when my single finger entered Cory's body. I leaned down to Cory with my three fingers still in his ass and kissed him. Not a word passed between us, but the message became clear.
"I love you, Cory," I whispered while my lips still touched his.
"I love you, too, Connor," Cory whispered back.
I knew at the moment he spoke the words, we were ready for another leg of our journey.
I grabbed the condom and rolled it over my extremely hard dick. I added copious amounts of lube to my dick and then to Cory's ass.
I leaned in to give Cory a kiss before I began to position myself and align my dick with Cory's sweet, virgin ass.
"Tell me if it hurts, Cory," I whispered. "I don't want to hurt you."
I raised my body with my arms and began to push my dick slowly into Cory's ass.
Cory began moaning as soon as my dick began entering him.
I watched his eyes. He watched mine. I continued a slow, deliberate descent into Cory's magnificent virgin ass.
"You feel so good, Cory," I whispered as I pushed my dick further and further into Cory's ass. I stopped when I felt Cory's balls and my pubic hairs collide.
"It's amazing to have you in me," Cory added as I began to move slowly out and in. Short distances at first. Getting longer and longer as time went by.
I paused for a moment, "Are you okay, Cory?"
"Yes," Cory moaned. "More than okay."
Cory began to stroke his rock-hard dick. I continued. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
It came upon me suddenly.
"Shit! I'm cumming, baby," I bellowed. "Ahhh... ahhh... ahhh... ahhh... ahhh..."
As soon I had finished dumping my load into the condom, Cory's body began to tense. I felt his ass muscles tighten around my dick as he began to shoot over his and my stomachs.
"Ahhh... ahhh... ahhh... ahhh... ahhh..." Cory moaned as his body convulsed from his orgasm.
I collapsed on top of Cory. We didn't speak. We didn't move. We just stayed with me on top and Cory on the bottom with his cum covering our stomachs.
"Connor?" Cory whispered after a few minutes.
"Yes," I responded.
"I love you," Cory whispered.
"I love you too!" I whispered back.
"Connor?" Cory whispered again.
"Yes," I replied.
"Do you want kids?" Cory asked.
"At some point," I replied. "You?"
"I do," Cory added. "In time."
I stayed lying on top of Cory. I felt his chest move with every breathe he took. I felt his heart beat. I felt we were in total sync.
"We should get a dog," Cory whispered.
"A dog? What kind of dog?" I asked.
"Border Collie," Cory responded.
"Okay, but how does getting a dog relate to some of the most wonderful sex I've ever had?" I asked.
"The dog will help us on our way into having kids," Cory whispered back.
"Why are we driving down country roads in the middle of nowhere?" I asked as Cory turned off the main road and onto a tree-lined, quiet country road.
"I'm being spontaneous," Cory answered.
"Bull," I added. "You're not spontaneous, remember."
"Maybe I'm learning," Cory continued as he pulled off the county road onto a long driveway with a large house at the end.
"What gives, Cory?" I exclaimed.
"I noticed this is the home of a Border Collie breeder," Cory added with a smile.
"We're going dog shopping?" I asked incredulously.
"You don't shop for a dog," Cory corrected me. "You find one which suits your personality."
"Have you ever owned a dog?" I asked.
"No," Cory replied. "You?"
"No," I added. "My mother hated dog hair almost as much as she hated gay people."
"Hmmm," Cory muttered. "Maybe owning a dog will help you heal. You shouldn't suffer just because your mother didn't like a certain type of person."
"You might have a point," I replied. "Wait! I'm not over being mad at you for pulling this cover up."
"I'm hardly covering something up," Cory continued. "I merely decided it might be nice for us to have a dog. It will help us adjust to the kids we want to adopt."
"You aren't taking me to an adoption agency, are you?" I asked.
"I haven't found one yet," Cory said as he turned the car off.
I saw a tall young man making his way toward us as we got out of the car.
"You must be Cory!" the six-one young man said as he stopped in front of us. "I'm Van."
"Yes, I'm Cory," Cory explained. "And this is my boyfriend, Connor."
"Pleased to meet you Connor," Van said as we shook hands. "My partner, Leo, is retrieving the puppy we through you'd like. In the meantime, please follow me into the house."
We followed Van up the sidewalk and onto the wraparound front porch. The atmosphere changed the moment we walked through the door. The outside of the house resembled a huge Victorian. The inside turned sleek and modern.
I couldn't keep my eyes off Van's shapely butt in his tight skinny jeans as we followed him to the causal great room with a view of the manicured back lawn.
"This is a beautiful house," Cory exclaimed.
"Thank you," Van replied. "Leo and I took one look at this house and knew we wanted to make it ours. It was pretty rundown. We did most of the work except the plumbing and electrical work."
"You did a beautiful job," I added just as Leo walked into the room from the patio sliders. He carried a black and white bundle of energy.
"Leo," Van began. "This is Cory and his boyfriend Connor."
"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Leo said to us as he extended his hand to shake. The other arm fought to keep the puppy in check.
Leo put the puppy on the floor. He began sniffing the air as soon as his feet hit the floor, and he moved with caution toward us. I bent down on my knee and the puppy sniffed my upturned hand. Then, he began to lick as I picked him up. Before I knew what was next, the puppy decided to give my face a tongue bath.
I stood and handed the puppy to Cory. He, too, received a healthy dose of dog tongue.
"You've made a friend," Leo said. "Van and I will let the two of you alone with the puppy, and you three can get to know one another better. We'll only be a moment."
Cory and I settled on the floor and let the puppy bounce between the two of us.
"So," Cory said as he held the puppy at bay to avoid more dog tongue. "He has a lot of energy!"
"And he's cute as shit," I added. "Is he bathroom trained?"
"I don't know," Cory replied as the puppy lost focus on him and handed him to me. "We'll need to ask. What do you think? Do we want to think about it?"
"What's there to think about?" I exclaimed. "You can't hand me a puppy and expect me to not want to take him home!"
"What about a name?" Cory asked.
"Dudley," I suggested. "Dudley was a character in a play I did. He was full of energy, loving, and extremely inquisitive."
"Then Dudley it is," Cory said just as Van and Leo walked back into the room.
"So, what do you think?" Leo asked.
"When can we take Dudley home?" I asked.
"Today," Leo replied. "We just need you to fill out a few forms, and, then, you'll be good to go."
"What about his family?" Cory asked.
"His mother and father are both well mannered, calm dogs," Van explained. "His sisters, his brother, and he are great with people and kids. A family with two small children adopted his sisters. We still haven't placed his brother."
"Why?" I asked.
"He has a health issue," Leo said.
"What kind of health issue?" I asked.
"He was the last to be born," Leo explained. "He has some breathing issues. He gets a little out of breath if he tries too hard to keep up with the others. We're afraid he might have some expensive medical issues ahead of him. And he's a little smaller than most Border Collies."
"Can we see him?" I asked. I looked over at Cory. He smiled at me.
Leo and Van looked at one another.
"Let me get him," Van said as he turned and left us to play with Dudley.
I knew I was in trouble the first second I saw Dudley's brother. His eyes seemed sad as he watched Dudley play with Cory.
All that changed when Van handed him to me. He started licking and playing just like his brother.
"I think we have two puppies to take home, Cory," I said as I carried Dudley's brother to show Cory.
"And what will his name be?" Cory asked as he took Dudley's brother from me and I took Dudley.
"Humphry," I replied. "I know exactly how this little pup feels. He's exactly like Humphry."
"Your Tony character!" Cory exclaimed. "Perfect!"
"Tony character?" Leo asked.
"Connor won a Tony for his role in Haywire," Cory explained. "He played Humphry. Do you know the song from the play, `It Wasn't Me'?"
"Connor Rodriquez?" Van exclaimed.
"Yes," I replied.
"You were magnificent!" Van exclaimed. "I've never forgotten you singing `It Wasn't Me.' I loved your costume."
"My boxers?" I asked.
"What can I say?" Van continued.
"What I can say is he hasn't stopped talking about you and your boxers," Leo added. "He talked about your magnificent body the moment we left the theater until yesterday. I'm certain I'll here it again tonight."
"So, do you think I won the Tony because of my boxers or my acting and singing?" I asked.
"You won the Tony for your singing and acting," Van continued. "And, as much as I thought your acting and singing were the best I've seen and heard, I think I will always remember you standing in the middle of the stage in your boxers singing the song I thought was the most powerful piece I've heard in live theater."
"Thank you, Van," I said with a smile. "It seems I'll always be known as Humphry standing on stage practically naked and singing `It Wasn't Me.'"
"Are they house trained?" Cory asked to quickly change the subject.
"Yes," Van replied. "They may have an accident if they are nervous about new surroundings, but, yes, they are house trained."
We filled out the paperwork, Cory handed Leo his AmEx card, and we were on our way home with two puppies.
We put Dudley and Humphry in the back seat of Cory's three-month-old BMW M550i. The two dogs sniffed the entire back seat area before settling on the left rear seat together.
"Do you realize how dog hair will show up on black leather seats?" I asked.
"They can be cleaned," Cory said as he started the car.
The dogs instantly jumped up to look out the window at the moving landscape.
"We need to retrieve dog supplies," I said as I watched the dogs move from one side to the other side of the back seat.
"They are in the trunk," Cory added. He smiled at me.
"You already bought the dog supplies?" I asked. "So much for spontaneity."
"I didn't want to ruin the fun," Cory replied. "I didn't, however, plan on two dogs. They will be okay for a night or two."
"What would you have done if I didn't suggest we take them home?" I asked.
"I suppose I'd need to throw a temper tantrum," Cory replied.
"Cory," I said with excitement turned to fear in my voice. I didn't wait for Cory to answer. I began my rambling story. I had barely entered my office before I pulled out my phone and called Cory. "I saw something I didn't want to see on my way to work. It still burns a hole in my brain when I even think about it. This is terrible. My life will be on edge every moment of every day."
"Hold on Connor," Cory said as he interrupted my babble. "What did you see?"
"Tide," I said with so little energy I could put paint to sleep.
"Your ex-boyfriend?" Cory asked. I could hear the concern in his voice.
"Yes," I replied. "Across the street. I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at him. He smiled like some evil son-of-a-bitch. He knew I'd seen him, and he knew I hated seeing him. What am I going to do, Cory?"
"First, you'll calm down," Cory said as his voice began to settle my upset stomach. "You had a restraining order preventing him from approaching you, right?"
"Yes, but the restraining order only applies to New York," I explained. I could hear the apprehension in my voice grow.
"We'll asked Dylan to draft a new one," Cory said. Dylan served as our personal attorney as well as Cory's family trust attorney. "Hold a moment, Connor. I need to make a quick phone call."
I waited for what seemed an eternity.
"Connor," Cory finally returned to our phone call. "You'll see a man dressed in a leather jacket, tight jeans, and a red baseball cap just outside your door in a few minutes. Don't panic. It's Jackson. He's part of our security detail."
"Security detail?" I exclaimed. Then I saw the man in the black leather jacket, tight jeans, and red baseball cap standing in my office doorway. He had a two-day scruff on his face, and his chestnut brown curly hair peeked out of his baseball cap. He could intimidate anyone. Six-four. Built. Serious looking.
"You and I both have someone following us when we're out of the house," Cory continued. "Jackson protects you."
"I have a protector?" I asked "Wait! Why the hell do I have a protector you never told me about?"
"I didn't want to worry you or make you nervous," Cory explained.
"I see," I said. I turned my attention to Jackson. "Have a seat, Jackson. Make yourself comfortable."
"Thank you," he replied as he took his seat in one of the vinyl covered chairs in front of my desk.
As he sat, I noticed the bulge in his jeans.
I turned my attention back to Cory on the phone. "What's next?"
"I'll have Dylan call you," Cory explained. "In the meantime, promise me you won't step foot out of your office without having Jackson close."
"So, Jackson," I said to my unexpected guest. "My boyfriend just told me not to step foot out of my office without having you close. What if I need to go to the bathroom?"
"One of the few places I won't follow you, Connor, will be into a stall in the bathroom," Jackson said with a smile on his face. "I'll also screen meeting participants prior to you meeting with them. I'll need to speak with your colleagues here at the center as well."
"Okay," I said to Jackson before returning to my conversation with Cory. "Why do I suspect my life will be changing?"
"Because it will," Cory said. "I need to get some work done. You need to get some work done. I'll take you to lunch. Any questions?"
"Nope," I said. "We've covered everything."
"Love you, Connor," Cory said.
"Love you, too," I added before we ended our call.
I set my phone on the top of my desk, leaned back in my chair, looked Jackson in the eye, and studied his ruggedly handsome face.
"So, Jackson," I began. "It looks like we'll be spending a lot of time together. Let's find ourselves some coffee and talk about how I deal with you."
"Lead the way, boss," Jackson said. An infectious smile broke across his face.
Jackson and I hit the Keurig machine in the employee break room. I watched as Jackson selected my favorite coffee: Starbuck's Sumatra.
"We agree on coffee, Jackson," I said. "I think we'll get along famously. I've discovered if two people like the same coffee they can be good friends. I'd need to ask Cory to replace you if you had chosen Dunkin'."
"We'll probably never be friends, Cory," Jackson added. "I can like you, but a security person and his charge generally do not become friends. We'll see how our relationship moves forward."
"How do I explain you to the staff?" I asked as we walked back to my office.
Jackson walked without words back to my office. He sat. I sat.
"Do you have any staff members you don't trust?" Jackson asked.
"Nope," I replied.
"Good," Jackson continued. "We won't need to fire anyone then. Your staff deserves to know why I'm here. They don't need to know the details, such as your ex appearing out of nowhere. I will need to speak with all of them. I'll also need a release from everyone to allow me to perform a background check. This information is for me. You will not be privy to any information I uncover."
"Why?" I asked.
"I've found people who work for my clients get a little unnerved if they believe I'll uncover some disgusting tidbit they'd rather not have their employer know about," Jackson explained. His explanation ended with what seemed to be his trademark smile.
"Makes sense to me," I acknowledged. "What else?"
"Consider an impromptu staff meeting to explain my presence," Jackson continued. "Again, not much detail. Blame your boyfriend if you'd like."
"I'll consider letting Cory take the fall," I said with a smile. I then turned serious. "You know, Jackson, seeing Tide standing on the other side of the street here in Boston unnerved me. It's taken me time to heal from what he did to me. I tried to put the memories of our troubled relationship out of my mind. The memories all came flooding back the moment I saw him. I'm afraid of him, Jackson. He's a whack job personified. I'd put nothing past him, including ruining the reputation of this organization. I can live with him terrorizing me. I can't live with him fucking up everything I've worked for since I came back to Boston. This place means too much to me."
"I'm beginning to like you, Connor," Jackson said. "I remember seeing you in Haywire in New York. You played your role as Humphry with such genuine love of his values. The Humphry you created on stage seems to be the Connor sitting across the desk from me. Besides, I love the way you looked in your boxers."
"More people remember me in my boxers rather than the songs I sang and the acting I did," I added. "Do you think I'd have received a Tony if I didn't sing the title song in my boxers?"
"Yes," Jackson replied with a smile. "You played the part brilliantly and you sang your songs with such energy and heartfelt compassion."
"What did you study in college?" I asked Jackson.
"Theater," Jackson replied.
"Why are you working as a protector instead of working in theater?" I asked
"I make one hell of a lot more money doing security than I could ever dream of in theater," Jackson said with a smile. "Why did you give up working in New York's theater scene?"
"I wanted a life," I explained. "Do you know what it's like doing seven grueling shows a week in addition to constant rehearsals?"
"Will you ever go back?" Jackson asked.
"I haven't given up on working in live theater again," I explained. "But I'm not running back to New York tomorrow and beg for another part. Where were we?"
"Tide can terrorize you, but not the Center," Jackson said.
"I'll tell everyone to meet in the rehearsal room," I added. "Eleven am. Is the time okay with you?"
"I'll follow you whenever and wherever you go," Jackson replied. "So, the time is perfect."
I made several phone calls while I watched Jackson tinkering with his tablet until time of the staff meeting.
"Creating a top-secret document, Jackson?" I asked as we headed to the rehearsal room.
"No, just notes from our conversation," Jackson explained.
"How did you wind up following me around?" I asked as we stepped into the still empty room.
"I've worked for the Wainwright family since I graduated from college," Jackson replied. "When Cory decided to move to Boston, he asked my husband, Landon, to work for him here. It was a package deal. Then, he met you, and here we are."
The staff dribbled into the room.
I began telling the group why Jackson would be here more often than not. "This morning on my way to work, an incident across the street from where I walked prompted some concern on my part. I called Cory, and he insisted Jackson keep an eye on me until the fallout from the incident blows away. Let's start on the right of the room and introduce yourselves and your position here so Jackson can put a name to a face."
When everyone had finished, Jackson stood to address the staff.
"I will try to be as inconspicuous as possible while I'm here with Connor," Jackson began. "I don't believe you are in any danger here, but Cory and Connor want to be safe. If you see anything unusual, please let me know. Don't try to be a hero and attempt to intercede. Does anyone have any questions?"
No one responded. Meeting over.
When Jackson and I returned to my office, Cory and another tall man sat on opposite sofas near the window chatting.
"The other guy is Landon," Jackson said to me.
"You're a lucky man!" I whispered to Jackson. "Don't get me wrong, you're pretty hunky yourself!"
"Thanks, Connor," Jackson replied. "The image of you standing on the stage in your boxers has burned a hole through my retina."
"Thanks," I replied.
"How are you doing, Connor?" Cory asked as he leaned in to kiss me.
"Jackson's a calming influence," I said to Cory. "We're having a long talk once we're home tonight."
"I expected as much," Cory added with a smile. "Connor, this is the other half of our security team, Landon Baker-Bolton. Landon, this is my boyfriend, Connor Rodriguez."
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Connor," Landon said as we shook hands. "Although I feel like I already know you. Jackson has a poster of you in Haywire dressed in boxers."
"Thank you, Landon," I replied. "Which one was the Baker?"
"I'm the Baker," Landon added. "Jackson is the Bolton."
Landon was just as imposing as Jackson. Same height and massive chest. Landon, however, seemed to be part Asian. He and Jackson must also share the same trainer.
"Let's grab lunch," Cory suggested.
The Maître d' seated us in Cory's favorite table, and Johnathon, Cory's favorite waiter, took our orders.
"Landon and I have been talking about this morning, Connor," Cory began. "He asked me some questions about your ex. I suggested you should answer his questions. He also asked if there could be other parts of our lives which could be problematic. I think he needs to know, Connor."
"You're probably right," I said to Cory. "I've considered what might happen if we ran across one of my former clients. So, I guess this conversation might take a while."
"Tell us about this Tide person," Jackson suggested. "Is he related to the detergent?"
"No. He and the detergent have nothing in common. Tide the detergent gets rid of dirt. Tide the ex-boyfriend is dirt! I met him in a bar after a long day of rehearsals," I began. "Tall blond with a tight body, longish curly hair, and indescribably stunning blue eyes. I should have known his main goal in life was to find someone to take care of him and then rake them over the coals. He couldn't keep his dick in his pants, and he also couldn't keep other men's dicks out of his ass."
I took a long swig of water before I continued. "The six months we lived together were the worst six months of my life. I had an acting gig which paid decently, but Tide didn't want me to give up my night job. I turned tricks with wealthy men for a large sum of money. Good money. Hours weren't bad. The pay was great. But it wasn't something I was proud of doing. The job did put me through college and kept me fed for several years after I graduated."
"You should probably tell him how you started in the business," Cory suggested.
I smiled as I fiddled with the paper which covered the straw.
"Looking back, it's probably the best part of the job," I said as I smiled and glanced at Cory. He smiled back. "I often found myself on my favorite park bench in Central Park. I tried to make sense of shit happening in my life. I had a minimum wage job to take care of expenses not covered by my scholarship. The expenses were winning. One day while I sat on my park bench in Central Park without my shirt on, this hot stud in short gym shorts, an iPod attached to his bicep, hair blown to bits, and the kindest smile I had seen in months zipped by on his roller blades. I watched him approach, and I watched him surge out of eye shot. The next thing I knew a sweaty hunk with hair blown to bits in short gym shorts and an iPod attached to his bicep sat down on the bench beside me. He wanted to see me."
"You should write porn, Connor," Jackson said as I paused to get air. "You're very descriptive."
"Maybe in my next career," I added. "Sadly, though, this wouldn't really be fiction."
I took another sip of water.
"My stud muffin asked to meet me for coffee the next week. I agreed."
"Now I'm a stud muffin?" Cory asked.
"Always were to me and always will be," I continued. "We met at Starbucks for coffee where he offered me money to sleep with him. I declined, but I accepted an offer to join him for dinner one night. The week prior to our dinner date turned out to be the disaster from hell. My roommate decided he needed to drop out of college and go back home to Denver. He stuck me with a $2,000 a month shitty studio. Then, the restaurant where I made most of my money announced they had run out of money and were closing at the end of business that night. I knew I was totally fucked."
"So, the night I met Cory for dinner, I accepted his invitation to sleep with him for money. He offered to find me other wealthy men who would pay big bucks to sleep with me for a couple of hours. I took in over thirty-five hundred dollars every week with four regular clients. Eight hours a week. I graduated. I looked for work in the theater. I lucked out with a couple of gigs. This is where Tide comes into my life and fucks everything up."
I fiddled with the straw paper again.
"Any questions?" I asked.
"Not a question so much as a comment," Landon began. "You must be one hell of a fuck to command one thousand dollars for two hours."
"You'll never know, Landon," Jackson said with smile.
They smiled at one another.
"Have you run into any of your clients after you quit seeing them?" Jackson asked.
"Only one," I replied. "He's now the manager of one of the best hotel's in Boston. He's been pleasant and helpful."
"Connor earned his current reputation as a mover and shaker in this cities arts world because he's talented and has a heart," Cory added. "He's also the only man who's made me truly happy. I'm keeping him if he'll let me."
"Did your ex-boyfriend know who your clients were?" Jackson asked.
"No," I replied. "At least I don't think so. Why?"
"Blackmail," Jackson added. "Were the guys you saw in the closet?"
"Yes," I replied. "They paid me lots of money because I was discreet. Oh, shit! He couldn't, could he?"
"We need to find out how much he knows," Landon added. "Cory, we need to bring someone in to dig for dirt."
"Do it," Cory replied.
If you would like to be on the announcement list for Together Forever, please send an e-mail by clicking here.
I would enjoy hearing your comments about this story. You can write to me at email@example.com.
Please also see:
John's Journey Forward found in the Beginnings section
Together Forever found in the Relationships section
Sam and Chris in the College section.
We're in This Together found in the Relationships section.
Jeffery Comes Home in the Beginnings section.
Taking a Stand in the College section.
Life With Tim in the Authoritarian section (Please note, this story is not for everyone because there are several scenes depicting Master/slave and BDSM relationships. So, if you are not interested in this activity, please, please do not read this story.)
Please if you can, contribute and keep NIFTY GOING strong as ever. They need our support so stories like this and so many others can continue to be publish for many hours of reading enjoyment.