Sparky and I went back over to see the happy couple one last time and, knowing what may happen immediately after a wedding, we pre-arranged it with them so we wouldn’t be interrupting anything. I just wanted to give them my very personal congratulations and look them in the eye just once more and be sure they didn’t have any misgivings about publishing their story for the world to see. All our discussions so far have been over the phone and sometimes the subtleties are lost when you aren’t face-to face. They were thrilled to see us and were most enthusiastic about my story and gave their full blessing. Sparky and I both hugged and kissed Tony and Daniel and wished them an enduring and happy marriage and bid them farewell by saying that the old folks would be leaving now and they should get on with what comes naturally and we all had a good laugh together. As we were leaving I noted that they had put their two roses into a vase on the kitchen table and I thought it was fitting and a good omen for their future and I started to tear up at the thought of it as I closed the door.
The two of us returned to that familiar motel for a last night together before I returned home and we began a new period of separation. Being mindful of the ruckus we had caused the first time we stayed there, we resolved in our minds that we would lay off the gymnastics and concentrate instead on our shared love and we had a long discussion about the future of our romance and whether we too would marry someday with the memories of the ceremony we had just witnessed clearly in our minds. Neither of us had any misgivings and we decided that once we could live together as spouses that we would also wed and that we would need to do it the same way in the same place and with the same official that Daniel and Tony had used. After that, we fell asleep in each others arms in a lovely romantic haze.
Next morning I explained to Sparky what my plans were for the next couple of days and I walked him back to the warehouse where I spent a few minutes with Poppa and Matthew and learned that they had been having a similar discussion as we two and it appeared they had come to a similar conclusion as well. I wished them good luck and told them to let me know when they made concrete plans and to know I’d be there to support them.
My plan from here was to satisfy this insane urge I was having to see Lake George in winter and walk the streets Indrajit and I walked and stop in front of his apartment though I know he’s home in India and preparing for his wedding. I took that walk down Memory Lane and though it was cold, I ended feeling all warm inside. I also hiked the couple of miles south to Paradise Beach and stood in front of Thad’s childhood home knowing that since Natalie has moved to Boston I’d likely never see it again. The memories came flooding back and as I was returning to Route 9, I spotted the motel we stayed at and Thad’s old grocery store and I was sure a mess when I stopped in there for an energy bar for the road. I didn’t bother to explain the tears but just thanked them for the memories and was back on the street.
From my planning I knew that the local bus would be by in about an hour and I decided to hike on and catch the bus at whatever stop was nearby at the time. The buses in wintertime are much less frequent than they are in summer and also less interesting with no foreign workers and their beautiful smiles and happy chatter in a dozen different languages at once and the many that were speaking in broken english with a myriad of accents trying to perfect their speech before the summer crowds appeared. I miss that happy time from years ago. Instead, today, I’m nearly alone with my thoughts.
We make our way to Glens Falls where I transfer to a longer-distance bus that will take me back to Albany. While traveling back we stop at Saratoga Springs station and an androgynous figure comes onto the bus. I watch closely but due to the dim lighting and the narrow, pegged leg shape of the pants which haven’t been in-style for men for years and also help to give the impression of wider hips, I conclude it is a woman and return to my reading. Later in the coffee shop that same figure is unexpectedly in line just ahead of me and closer observation now reveals he is all male due to a slight shadow of a beard at 10 AM no less. I am now fascinated and I introduce myself to break the ice. He is gracious and the lack of discomfort gives me some confidence in my continuing to engage him and my presumption is that he is likely to be gay or at least not gay-averse.
“Hey, Saratoga, good morning. We rode together on the bus a while ago. I’m Nick.”
He eyes me suspiciously for just a second and then smiles.
“Good morning, Nick. I’m Peter.”
“Ah, Peter. Do you mind if we talk for a while? Soon as I pay for my coffee, let’s sit down and get acquainted. OK?”
“Sure. I’d like that. My bus for Pittsfield doesn’t leave for about forty-five minutes anyway.”
I do a quick calculation and remember that the slow-boat bus that he’ll be taking will also take me home to Boston eventually. It’s been my misfortune to take that bus once or twice when I was riding alone and it seemed to be never-ending, stopping at a number of Berkshire towns but I suspect this time will be different.
“Hey that’s a coincidence. That’s a bus home for me as well. Normally I take the express bus to Boston but I’d like it if we could travel together as far as you’re going.”
“Nick, that would be a treat.”
We sit down over our coffees and danish pastries and get down to it.
“Peter, it’s confession time... I think we have a certain rapport and I don’t want to screw that up but I first need to tell you something that you might think was borderline insulting and I want you to know that it’s not meant that way. I need to confess that I made a mistake in the bus this morning when I first saw you. I was having some difficulty determining your gender as you passed through the aisle and I’m afraid I sort of dismissed you in my mind when I incorrectly concluded you were female. It was wrong on two accounts. First is the obvious error in judgment and second is the fact that I normally wouldn’t be so closed-minded. I apologize for both.”
“Nick, first I’m not insulted. I know myself well enough to realize that I present that kind of image. I do get that reaction a fair amount though seldom will someone be so honest about it. I try to use it to my advantage, though, and it actually works for me in some ways. I’ll give you an example in a few minutes. I’m from North Creek and I’m on a break from work now because I get a little stir crazy this time of year. I live there full-time and in the summers I work as a reservations clerk and sort of all-around concierge for our clients in one of the whitewater rafting operations up there. I also work occasionally as a conductor on the excursion train when they need an extra hand. I see a lot of people in the course of the season and a lot of the ladies give me the ‘oh, aren’t you just so cute’ routine and I catch the eye of a percentage of the male clients as well. Because of that I have a fairly busy social life and I don’t hesitate to extend my hospitality to a fair number of guys who are clients. After all, service is the theme and I don’t mind being accommodating after-hours. During the winters, though, it gets boring and kind of lonely. There is an active ski community there but I just never warmed up to skiing and don’t know much about it so I never even considered working in that industry. I make enough in the summers to get by and to relieve the boredom I also take part-time work when needed at the local nursing home as an attendant. I give vacation relief and take the odd shifts when other workers are sick.”
“That’s fascinating. You must kick back in the winter then. I suppose it lets you recharge your batteries since it must be intense in the summer for you.”
“Yeah, in a number of ways. Though the booth hours are limited to daytime at the rafting gig we take reservations for an extended time on the phones from early morning ’til late evenings and that keeps me busy as well. Dating wise it’s also intense and so I keep occupied. Most of the guys I see are one-night stands or off-and-on while they are in town for a week or two. Most have preconceived notions about me looking slightly feminine and that leads to a presumption that I’m also passive in bed. Most guys like that just want to fuck me and I’m glad to play into that role if that’s all they want. I like that side of it fine. When I hear in their pillow talk, however, that a guy wants more, I’m ready. My look makes me a real stealth top. Once he’s fucked me, I surprise him and wrestle him over and I can give him a good, energetic fuck like he wants. The look on their faces when they realize what they’ve got can be priceless. A good example of this is Nate. He started out like all the rest and once I surprised him with the switcheroo, he was hooked! He’s now a real steady visitor for two weeks a year and he never needs a hotel when he’s in town. He really loves the athletic side of things in the daytime and continues the trend at night. He’s always welcome at my place and he extends the same courtesy to me. He’ll be picking me up in Pittsfield later and we’ll be spending some quality time together for a week or so. He knows how the winters are and I take him up on his standing invitation once or twice when I get itchy. He’s a real treasure.”
“I can see that. It’s clear from the way you talk that you like him. Does it extend into a romance then?”
“No. We’re more like steady fuckbuddies. I could enthusiastically sign a long-term lease with him but it would be strictly for sex. It’s not that we don’t like each other personally; we get along well and have a great time together outside of bed but we never got to the moony stage over each other. More like we really respect each other. We also respect the other’s space. We both have our lives and like it that way. We’ve carved a place in our lives for each other and it just works for us. If I got all lovestruck over a guy I met from work, I’d just be paralyzed. There are so many guys in my life during the course of the year that I need to keep a little emotional distance. Then there are the ones that I let into my soul a little. Dave is like that. I met him as a co-worker. He came up one year to work with me in reservations. We figured each other out almost right away. As we opened up to each other over time we became quite comfortable together. You see, I’m not really Dave’s type and he’s not really mine. We’d dish on each other and have a good time together when we weren’t otherwise working but that seemed to be it. Sisters. Dave’s type is the handsome actors and models who come up from New York on the weekends because they think they need to do this. They crave the experience but aren’t really committed to it. Dave really likes those guys. He’s impressed by the glitz of it and talks their language. He’s a hit with them and is very popular. You’d occasionally meet soap actors in the summer and those guys were a special treat for Dave and he gave them the star treatment. So we never conflicted over the guys. You can tell by now that my favorites were the hard-core athletes into the physical thrill of it and the intense exercise. So Dave and I were dating entirely different classes of guys. Funny thing, though, there was always a sexual undercurrent between us. He’d grab at my nuts and I’d pinch his ass. I’d tweak his tit as he squeezed by in the narrow booth. That kind of thing. I never thought it would amount to anything. The next year Dave called me up and told me he’d be up again for the summer and wondered if we could room together for the season. I told him that would work for me. When he arrived we just presumed that we’d share the bed. No problem since my bed is oversize for just me and I’d been sharing it often overnight with my guys anyway. Funny thing, though, we kind of fell into an easy sexuality almost immediately. After all, morning wood being what it is, it knows no discrimination. He’d jerk me off lazily or I’d suck his dick almost as a courtesy of the house. This was mostly when either of us was experiencing a dry spell. Occasionally we’d get into it and we’d go farther. It was quite the summer. I was always content. In fact, I had a rather dry year that summer and only dated when I knew he was also similarly engaged. Dave took his fellows back to their motel rooms generally since they hardly ever shared a room while my guys often had roommates and they preferred to come to my place for sex. It was a plan that worked fairly well but when Dave would strike out I just naturally didn’t try to engage a guy out of courtesy. Those nights, Dave and I would often fuck. He had a need for that and so did I. It was really good when it happened and by the end of the summer I recognized that I was falling for Dave pretty hard. Unfortunately, he didn’t share the same feeling. We never quarreled about it since I could sense that he was a little world-weary and had no room in his life for love. I kept my feelings for him to myself. Once summer was over Dave moved back to his home in Burnt Hills and to his other job as a promotions director for a ski organization. He wrote the advertising for a number of resorts and designed the weekly promotions that they all run. He’s really good at that and everybody prospers. He told me later that he wouldn’t be coming back to the rafting job that year and invited me to come down early in the spring for a visit. It was wonderful and painful all at once. I got over the emotion, though, and just enjoyed our time together. We eventually fell into a habit and Dave became one of my steady guys and another getaway spot for the winters. I had just come from a week at Dave’s when he dropped me off at Saratoga and I boarded the bus this morning. I’m still a little sore from the goodbye fuck last night.”
“Oh wow. That explains why you were walking a little oddly.”
“Really.”
“You know I’m in awe of the fact that you’ve handled all the situations you describe so maturely. You really have your head screwed on right.”
“Thanks!”
“I also need to make another confession: along with being a poor judge of gender, at least in your case I have a hard time telling your age.”
“I’m twenty four.”
“OK. Some of that maturity comes from the fact that you’re older than you look but that isn’t all of it.”
“Yeah, sometimes people are shocked by how young I look. They expect me to act a certain way. It’s another opportunity to surprise people.”
“And I would be remiss if I didn’t ask this: I hear you refer often to fucking; it’s been very stimulating listening to you about it. I need to ask, though, if you’re being safe?”
“Always. I even use that to my advantage. I make it a part of my ‘act’. I choose color condoms that contrast well with my generally pale skin color – it makes my thing stand out and look enormous. It’s really only average size but I watch the guys’ eyes while I put the condom on and they really take notice. One surprise after another, it seems.”
Somewhere along the way we had taken our discussion from the cafeteria to the waiting room and then onto the bus that would take us both home.
“Any other stories you want to share? So far it’s been amazing.”
“Thanks. Yeah, I was thinking that I had one more story that I think you’d like. I told you that I work in the winters in a local nursing home and I met a really special character there. His name is Jake and he is the most amazing guy. He is, in my experience, the world’s biggest horndog. He eats, drinks, and thinks about sex all the time. He is a true connoisseur of sex; he kind of collects the information endlessly. He’s always on the internet reading about it and researching it. Funny thing is, he’s straight. It’s all man-woman sex all the time with him. I grew up feeling kind of put off by the whole hetero sex scene – I was queasy about it. But when Jake and I get together it’s non-stop sex talk and it’s mostly a monologue with him telling me about the latest perversion he’s discovered or the latest scandalous story. It’s all so over-the-top. He even calls himself ‘Jake the Snake’ and pretends like he’s this legendary cocksman. Well, in the course of my duties I’ve seen Jake’s snake and it’s not particularly special... kinda like mine. The funny thing is that Jake talks a good game but his poor body can’t do any of those things he thinks about so much. He’s paralyzed and in a wheelchair and can’t feel anything on his body below his ribcage so sex for him is strictly theory, no practice. But he is so obsessed with the subject and he can be endlessly entertaining telling stories and discussing all the trivia. I spend a lot of my break time with Jake and, with all the talk, I’ve gained a lot of respect for heterosexuals; especially for women. I believe that because of my time spent this way, I understand women’s passions and motivations so much better and I’ve gained insights that I never would have as a gay man on my own. It’s made me a lot more empathetic generally and my relationships with women around me and ones that I meet are much deeper. It’s really special and though I don’t think I’ll be going straight any time, I am equipped to function in that world better than I ever thought I would be. Thank you, Jake. I really do have a soft spot in my heart for him. He’s made my life so much richer.”
“My God, that’s profound. I find I’ve grown a lot in that way, too, in the past few years with my exposure to an amazing strong woman who happens to be the mother of one of my best friends and sort of my honorary son. I really like and admire her so much. She’s just great and I’m looking forward to seeing her in just a few hours when I get home.”
“Nick, we’re nearly at my stop. Is this discussion going anywhere? I think I’d like to continue this with you and maybe see where it leads.”
“Peter, I really like you and I do want us to stay in touch. As far as anything else goes, I have a long-distance lover but he’s pretty broad-minded and he’d probably say it was OK anyway, for now. I think he might like you, too. Either way nothing is certain but I’d love to have you at least as a friend. Let me give you my cell number and I promise I won’t screen my calls – I hate when people do that. You should know that I’m a writer and I’m considering adding you and your guys to my ‘Adirondack Tales’ and I need your consent anyway so I want to let you see what I write and you can agree or disagree once you see the story.”
“That’s perfect. I’ll call next week once I’m back home after my time with Nate and remember that I would really like to make love to you some day. I think you’d be extraordinary in bed. In the meantime I’ll be patient and I’d love to see what you’ve written so far and also your take on our meeting and my stories. You probably can count on my support. This has been so special for me.”
He started kissing me and I forgot about all the people around us and everything in the world except Peter...
Author’s notes: “Peter”, I hope you’re happy and well and if you are reading this, please accept my apology. You sure did disappear quickly after I paid my bill. When I acknowledged you, I expect you probably thought I was a dirty old man with bad intent. Hell, I AM a dirty old man and my intent is never completely innocent but overall, I’m pretty harmless. Have a good life.
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