Date: Sun, 17 Feb 2013 13:01:18 -0500
From: Morris Henderson <bigmoh@post.com>
Subject: Choices Chapter 3-B-1

CHOICES

CHAPTER 3, Version B-1
(You chose: Steve will remain true to his values)

Steve continued asking questions about the hustler's life on the
streets and his experiences with customers.  The problems with
sometimes kinky customers didn't bother him nearly as much as
the poor soul's having no home.  Steve felt overwhelming
sympathy and said, "It must be quite a problem to live on the
streets with no place to do normal things like eat regular meals,
shower, and sleep in a comfortable bed."

"Yeah.  I miss those kind of things.  But what choice do I have?
It's either doing what I do or going back home where the
neighborhood is full of drug addicts that are desperate for a way
to feed their habit.  They don't think twice about beating you up
or even killing you for whatever cash you might have.  It's living
Hell just to walk to and from school.  Always looking over your
shoulder for some crazed asshole wanting to steal from you.  Or
beat the shit out of you just to find out you got no money.  My
life isn't good now but it's a damn sight better than what I
escaped from."

Compassion prompted Steve to say, "I've got an idea.  I live in
the dorm over on campus.  My room mate has gone home for
while and won't be back until late Sunday night.  I've got no
money that I can give you but I can offer you a few nights of
sleep in a real bed.  It isn't much but you'll be comfortable and
safe for a little while.  You can come and go as you like but
you'll have a bed to sleep in.  And a hot shower if you want.
How about it?"

The teen stared at Steve for a moment with an expression that
suggested disbelief.  The expression turned to a scowl when the
hustler said emphatically, "Nice try, Mister!  If you think I'm
gonna give you sex just for letting me sleep in your room, you're
crazy."

"That's not my reason," Steve objected.  "There's no obligation
for sex.  I promise.  I just want to do a small favor to a young
man who deserves a little comfort."

"Sure," the teen snarled.  "That's what you say now.  But I've
learned to see bullshit for what it is.  I've had to to survive.
You're like everybody else.  You'll do or say anything for a piece
of my ass.  It ain't gonna happen!  I'd rather be out finding horny
men who'll pay me for a few minutes of sex."

Steve tried to assure the hustler that his promise of no sex was
genuine.  "It's not bullshit!  I just want to..."

The young man interrupted, "Don't pile on more bullshit!  I'm
outta here!  Sorry for bothering you."

He stood and started to walk away, ignoring pleas to come back
and talk.  Steve's promise of no expectation of sex was
legitimate.  He genuinely wanted to do a favor for an unfortunate
young man while fully recognizing the temptation it would be to
sleep in the same room with a very attractive guy...a guy who
could satisfy his lingering desires.  He was shakily confident that
he could resist the temptation.  Not that long ago, when his
devotion to his religion was strong, his confidence level would
be much higher.  Now, however, he had begun to doubt his
religion's precepts and, in particular, it's condemnation of
homosexuality, so his level of confidence was not complete.  He
also recognized that the hustler might use the seduction skills
that the young man had obviously developed and would lure
him into a sexual trap.  If that were to happen, he was even less
confident that he could resist the temptation.  But he privately
vowed to protect his virginity until he met someone who shared
his priorities.  Promiscuous sex with strangers was not his goal.

Steve watched the young man stride purposefully toward
Riverside Drive and toward a continuation of the life he had
chosen, a life of seeking and finding men in need of sexual
gratification and filling that need.  For a price.  He sat for a long
time contemplating the pitiful plight of a young man with obvious
initiative, courage...and potential...who because of
circumstances was forced into prostitution.  Deep in Steve's
psyche, however, was another thought that he refused to fully
acknowledge.  He had missed out on an opportunity to
experience what he had craved.  In doing so, he denied himself
the possibility, however remote, of experiencing—or at least
experimenting with—sex with a man.  Yes, he regretted losing
the opportunity but he had chosen the respectable path of
offering at least temporary help to another soul who had to cope
with homelessness and insecurity.  He even consoled himself
with the possibly that he had protected his remaining aversion of
homosexual acts.  A desire for sexual gratification with a man
was unfortunate but actively engaging in forbidden sex was
unforgivable in the eyes of God (perhaps) and certainly in the
eyes of society.

When the sun descended toward the skyline of the New Jersey
shore Steve made his way back to his empty dorm room.  It
wasn't safe to be in the park after dark.  He skipped dinner
because he had spent more than his daily food budget buying
lunch for an unfortunate young man.  The satisfaction of giving a
little bit of help to one in need trumped the hunger pains that he
felt.  He went to bed early.  Because of the heat in the room
without air conditioning, he took advantage of being alone and
stripped off all his clothes.  He positioned a small fan to blow air
across his completely naked body.  It helped only a little.   And
he couldn't fall asleep.  His mind was reflecting on the
encounter with the hustler and wondering about the teen's
uncertain future.  Significantly, however, images of the boy—
youthful, attractive and virile in an inexplicable way—persistently
arose in his mind.  One very memorable image was the clear
view of the hustler fondling an impressive cock invitingly,
enticingly, arousingly.   Steve was powerless to avoid
maintaining that image in his mind, which, of course, caused his
own cock to assert itself by engorging and demanding relief.

After a particularly intense orgasm (Masturbation. a victimless
transgression can be tolerated...unlike the more serious sin of
sex with a man.), Steve was able to fall asleep.  But his sleep
was disrupted by a dream.  He was still in Riverside Park.  With
the hustler.  Hidden behind some bushes.  He was exploring all
over the young man's completely naked body.  His eyes and
hands were paying particular attention to the surprisingly stiff
and firm cock that arose like a monument to virility from an
undergrowth of profuse, black, curly pubic hair.  Precum oozed
from under the protective foreskin and fell in a glistening string
to pool just below the navel on the young man's magnificent
body.

Steve awoke with a start.  He had erotic dreams before but this
was exponentially more vivid and real.  He would usually reflect
on those dreams after awakening but not this time.  His cock
was fully erect—that was not unusual—but this time it was
different.  His cock was throbbing painfully.  He immediately,
one might say instinctively, moved his hand down to ease the
mild pain.  He was surprised to feel that it was slippery.  It only
took a moment to realize that he had ejaculated.  A smear of
cum coated his abdomen ran down to stain the bottom sheet of
his bed.  It was his first wet dream or, as he preferred to call it,
nocturnal emission, and he was understandably surprised.
Even more surprising was his first thought:  disappointment that
he had been asleep and not able to enjoy the thrill of another
climax.  His second thought was that he would have to take the
sheet to a nearby laundromat and pay twice what it would cost
in the student-run laundry.  The embarrassment of having his
obviously cum-stained sheet discovered by another student was
intolerable...such was the thinking of a naïve, almost prudish
college sophomore.

<><><><><>

Steve earned his degree not with honors but with a record
impressive enough to win four job offers.  For the first time, he
faced the challenge of having to choose from among four roads
leading to different and largely unpredictable futures.  After
agonizing over the potential benefits and risks, he accepted a
job as a civilian employee at Hill Air Force Base thirty miles
north of Salt Lake City and about the same distance from his
parents' farm. The proximity to his family was a major
consideration but the job was at least equally promising.

Within a year, he met a vivacious and personable young
woman.  The friendship grew to be remarkably strong because
of many shared interests.  With the hope that a traditional
marriage would quell his hidden desires and would earn him the
respect of family and colleagues, he proposed.  They were
married (in a civil ceremony, disappointing his parents).  He
found that sex with a woman was more than tolerable; it was
downright enjoyable.  For a very long time, his secret yearnings
faded.  But they were not dead...only hibernating

Six years and three children later, the marriage began to
change, imperceptibly at first but gradually becoming noticeable.
The couple remained cordial enough but by mutual although
tacit agreement, sex was less and less frequent.  Ten years into
the marriage, sex was only a memory.  Steve's homoerotic
thoughts and fantasies returned.

Soon after the last child had grown and moved out, Steve, with
no objection from his wife, took over a vacant bedroom.  He had
lived a straight life—not without considerable happiness in his
career and marriage—and earned the acceptance and respect
of society.  But the embers of unfulfilled desires ignited.  His
hunger for intimate male companionship was only partially
appeased by uninhibited fantasizing and frequent masturbation.
The long-suppressed hunger intensified.  Satisfying that need
was impossible so he continued down the straight and narrow
road that he had chosen many long years ago.

<><><><><>

Many more years later, he grudgingly accepted the unpleasant
fact that he would never experience gay sex.  Although he
managed to maintain a fit physique, he recognized that his age
made him less attractive to other men.  He was, after all, a
grandfather.  In addition, the reputation he had so successfully
worked to earn would likely be shattered.  In spite of society's
gradually increasing tolerance toward gay men, the environment
was still quite toxic for homosexuals, especially in Utah.  Far
more significant in his thinking was that abandoning his wife for
another man would cause severe pain to his children whom he
loved dearly.

Two of his children were happily married and parents of
adorable children.  The third, the youngest, was a twenty three
year old bachelor living in Chicago.  Steve was returning from a
business trip to New York and was to change planes in Chicago
but the connecting flight was cancelled.  The next available flight
was at ten the next morning.  Steve decided to use the time to
visit with his son, Gary.  He phoned repeatedly but got a voice
mail.  Trusting luck, he took a cab to Gary's address, hoping
that by the time he got there his son would be home from work.
It was not a "Glad to see you" welcome.  A complete stranger
opened the door.

"Sorry," Steve said.  "I thought Gary Randolph lived here."

"He does," the stranger said.  "Who wants to see him?"

"I'm his dad.  I got stuck in Chicago by a snafu in my plane
connections.  I tried to call him but couldn't reach him.  So I
decided to take a chance on coming here from the airport for a
short visit."

"Come in, Mr. Randolph.  Gary's due home any time now.  In
fact, he's a little later than usual.  Probably another long meeting
at work."

They settled into the living room and chatted until Steve couldn't
resist saying, "Gary never told me he had a room mate so I
don't even know your name."  Steve wondered if the stranger's
sudden change of expression revealed worry.

"Tom Andrews.  I apologize for not introducing myself."  He then
paused to think of an explanation for Gary's not mentioning his
new living arrangement.  "Perhaps the reason he didn't mention
me is that I moved in here only last month."

"You're probably right," Steve said while suspecting it was a
lame deception.

"If you'll excuse me for a little while, I have a casserole in the
oven.  I should take it out before it burns."

Just then, the front door opened and Gary walked in calling,
"Hey, luv!  I'm home.  I'm hungry for dinner and hungry for you."
He went immediately to the kitchen without noticing Steve in the
living room.

Tom began to reply, "There's a big surprise..."

Gary interrupted by saying, "I hope it has to do with the
bedroom."

"NO!" Tom said.  "Your father is here.  In the living room."

"Shit!" Gary murmured almost inaudibly.

"Go in and greet him.  I'll finish fixing dinner."

Gary inhaled sharply and tried to prepare himself for what would
surely be an unpleasant confession.  "Hey, Dad," he called as
cheerily as he could when he walked into the living room.  "It's
great to see you."

"Good to see you, too, Son."  He proceeded to apologize for the
unannounced visit and explain what brought it about.  Gary
listened but was perceptively nervous.

Gary mustered his courage and said, "I suppose the cat's out of
the bag so I might as well be honest.  Tom and I are lovers.
Yes, you have a gay son.  I only hope that you can accept that
and won't be ashamed of me.  I was planning on telling you
eventually but wanted to prepare myself for your reaction before
saying anything."

"Ashamed?" Steve responded.  "Nothing could be further from
the truth.  I loved you as a child.  I loved you as a teenager.  I
love you now.  I'll always love you.  The only thing that's
important is your happiness."

Gary was dumbstruck by his father's reaction but managed to
say, "But...you're straight as an arrow.  You loved Mom and took
such pride in having grandchildren."

"That's true," Steve replied and then paused to assess the
consequences of what he wanted to add.  "Well...half true.  I've
lived a straight life."

Gary puzzled over the `half true' part and the thoughtful pause
that preceded it.  He suspected the highly unlikely but had to
confirm it.  "What do you mean by `half true'?  Does that mean
that...."  He couldn't finish by implying that his presumably
heterosexual father was a closet gay.

"It means what I think you think it means," Steve said with a
smile born of relief at finally, after decades of secrecy, revealing
what had been painstakingly buried in his being.  "It means that
I'm attracted to men.  It means that I've lived a lie all my life.  All
for the sake of `fitting in' with society.  But society has changed,
hasn't it?  Gays are still discriminated against but there's been a
gradual growth of tolerance.  I guess I was born thirty years too
soon.  If I were your age today and single, I would do exactly
what you've done."

Tom, having heard the conversation and its abrupt end, walked
in from the kitchen to find Gary and Steve in a tight embrace.
Both had been crying.

The three men talked and laughed throughout dinner and well
into the evening.  Nearing midnight, Steve said, "I have some
advice for the two of you.  It's something I recently read in a
magazine.  There are two silly rules you should ignore.  The first
is: don't go to bed angry.  Everyone argues from time to time but
wait to settle your differences when emotions calm down and
you're both ready to talk.  I think the second myth is more
important to ignore: you can resolve all your differences.  That's
nonsense.  Your partner will inevitably have a set of problems
that you'll be coping with for ten, twenty, or fifty years.  Accept
them.  Don't try to `fix' each other.  And let me add a rule you
should never to ignore.  Cherish your love for each other.
Constantly.  Don't let it wither for lack of nourishment."

Tom said to Gary, "I can see why you're so proud of your dad.
He's top notch."

Steve appreciated the comment but didn't give a response.
Instead, he said, "It's late.  I should leave you two alone before I
totally wear out my welcome."

Both Gary and Tom objected, encouraging him to stay the night
but Steve was firm in his decision.  As Steve left, Gary grabbed
him in another tight hug.  Steve said to Tom, "Come here.  Join
us.  You're part of the family now.

THE END