Chapter Two

I awoke at 4:00 AM. I've always been a light sleeper. The slightest little sound will wake me. I'm usually awake before the alarm goes off anyway. But 4:00 o'clock is a bit much even for me. Randy had rolled over into me and latched onto me like he was a little kid clutching the last teddy bear on earth. I loved it. I scooted my ass back into him. I had forgotten just how good, how right it felt to have somebody with you at night holding you close.

Randy had thrown his knee over my hip almost like he was trying to mount me again. If he was even half as good this morning as he was last night, I wasn't going to stop him. I reveled in the feel of the soft hairs on his legs as they intertwined with mine, his almost-hard cock pressing into my ass. I could feel his nipples brush my back with every inhalation of his slow, regular breathing. And when he exhaled, there was a warm, moist spot on my shoulder blade as he breathed life back into me.

Why had I given up on that life anyway? Silly question. I knew the answer. Three failed relationships, none of which lasted more than a year and a half, a general dislike for the Last Call Courtship Dance and of course middle age. I was past 30--well past it--and as everyone knows, if you're not "taken" by the time you're 30, you probably never will be. Well, you can be, but it's an uphill battle to say the least. But right here, right now, Life Was Good. I pulled Randy's arm tighter around me and went back to sleep.

* * * * *

When I next woke up, I was shaken awake by Randy's whole body convulsing against mine as he made a startled sound. "What is that? Is somebody trying to break in?" He was right. There was an insistent and very loud banging coming from the front room. The outside doors in the apartment are hollow and if someone knocks normally, it sounds, well, normal. But if someone bangs on the door, it sounds like you're inside a bass drum.

I looked at the clock. It was 9:16. "Oh, Christ! Hank is here. I better let him in," I said as I swung my legs off the bed.

"Who's Hank?" he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There was a look of real concern on his face. He was probably thinking that half of this bed was Hank's and he was going to find himself in the middle of a domestic quarrel.

I pulled on my t-shirt and boxers--Hank has seen me in less--and knelt on the bed to kiss away his concern. Or should I? I nuzzled his neck. "Hank is my lover of 15 years and he gets insanely jealous when he finds me with someone else." Sometimes I shouldn't tease. This was one of those times.

"What?!? Are you serious?"

There was a look of real panic on his face and every muscle on his beautiful body was tensed, ready to spring. "No. Of course I'm not serious. Don't worry. Hank is just a client. He comes over every Sunday morning. Go back to sleep. This will only take a few minutes." He gave me a look that said, I'm not sure about you. This was not the way I wanted this morning to start. "I'm sorry, Randy, really. Bad joke for this time of morning. Look, if he were my lover, he would have just let himself in. So relax."

His shoulders slumped a bit. Maybe he believed me. I'd just have to prove it to him. Hank was still pounding on the door and I could hear him urging me to hurry and let him in. It was starting to bother me too. "I'M COMING HANK. KNOCK IT OFF!" Well now, that didn't sound pleasant and Randy looked really concerned again. I smiled at him again like this happened all the time. "The nice thing about best friends is that every once in a while you can tell them to go to hell. Be right back."

I could still hear Hank outside the door using Level One Profanity--nothing personal, yet--telling me how far behind schedule he was. I finally got the dead bolt thrown and the door opened. "Jesus, it's about time, Bob. What the hell took you so long? You never oversleep."

"And a pleasant good morning to you too, asshole. Sorry, but I was up late last night and decided to sleep in. It is Sunday, you know."

"I know. And good morning. Is that a hickey on your neck?" He looked at his watch and my hand moved to the side of my neck as if I'd be able to feel it like some kind of growth. "And it's now 9:25, and I've got to open the shop in 35 minutes, so could we get the show on the road?"

"Sure. C'mon back." I led him to the back bedroom which was my combination computer room and workout room. I've got my personal computer networked with my business computer downstairs in the shop. That comes in handy at times like this. While we were waiting for the computer to finish startup, we both heard the other bedroom door open. Out stepped Randy, in the buff, sporting a morning woody that would scare livestock. He's got just a little upward curve and his foreskin still covers his head when he's hard. I felt my mouth starting to water.

Hank looked at me only slightly astonished, looked back to see Randy's bubble butt disappear into the bathroom and then looked back at me completely astonished. "Close your mouth, Hank. You look stupider than usual." He did but he kept looking at me like I had two heads. "I know, I know. I said once that I was giving up sex. But last night I had a change of hard...uhh...heart."

"You dog, you," he said, finally grinning, and clapped me on the back like we were teenagers who had just gotten laid for the first time. "That is a hickey, isn't it? I knew you still had it in you."

I just smiled back at him and shrugged. "I had it in me; I had it in him."

"So the hermit finally comes out of his cave, huh?"

"Actually, the hermit came in his cave." I smiled even bigger for him. "And several times, I might add. It was pretty astonishing, to say the least. I'll give you all the details this afternoon. By the way, is Larry going to be there?" Larry and Perry, I thought, a match made in hell. No, Larry and I made the match from hell. I almost felt sorry for Perry. Almost. He's a jerk too.

"I think he's still out of town, but I'm not sure. Haven't heard from him or Perry at all this week. You got that invoice yet?"

"It's printing now. You bring the stuff for this week's ad?" I knew he did; it's why he came over every Sunday morning. He drops off the information for his newspaper ad for next week and picks up the bill for this week's ad. On any other morning we'd share a cup of coffee and he'd fill me in on what happened at his pool party. Who went home with whom, who made a fool of himself, what closet cases came out, who went back into the closet. It was my way of keeping up with a small part of the Brotherhood Gossip Network.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it, Bob. Today's get-together is for staff only and special guests like you and Ike and Harvey." Ike is Hank's business partner and also our accountant; Harvey Nelson is his attorney and I guess my attorney too if for no other reason than if I needed one, Harvey is the one I would call. "Gonna bring your boyfriend along?"

"He's not a boyfriend, Hank. And we haven't discussed plans for today. So maybe yes, maybe no. We'll see."

"Frieda's going to be there for a while, at least 'til she has to go home and feed her own brood. I know she'd love to get a look at him in a pair of speedos. Might make her moist again."

I couldn't help but laugh at that. "I could see her going home and attacking Will right there in the living room. One more kid and she'll have her own basketball team. The woman's got a libido as big as all outdoors." I looked at Hank but he was looking at the bathroom door. He's stalling now, I thought, waiting to get another glimpse of Randy. "Here's your bill, Hank. You've now got eighteen minutes to get to the shop. Better hurry."

"Oh, uhh, thanks, Bob." He started moving reluctantly, more slowly than usual, toward the door. He stopped and turned at the door and offered me his hand. He never does that. "Thanks for everything, Bob." He wasn't looking at me; he was looking over my shoulder, his last chance to see some skin. It's not like he didn't have a chance every weekend at his pool parties. Or every morning, for that matter, with his "pool boy." But that's another story.

"Jesus, Hank, give it up." I opened the door and dragged him through it. "I'll show you the pictures this afternoon."

"You took pictures?"

"Lots of 'em," I lied. "I'll see you this afternoon." And I pushed him through the door. Time for coffee. I was measuring water in the pot when I felt two hands circle my waist and pull me back and felt Randy's lips on my neck. I love the sweet smell of soap and shampoo on a guy, especially a guy like this. The only thing that's better is the musky smell of a man in heat.

"Good morning, beautiful." Ahh, he knows just the right things to say. One of his hands found my nipple and started massaging it. That's one thing we both have in common. Our nipples are hardwired to our dicks. God, but I love this feeling.

"And a good morning to you too. But you're the one that's beautiful, not me. Oh, by the way, thanks for the hickey." I tried, not too successfully, to sound irritated. "I'll be explaining that for a while, I'm sure."

He laughed that deep baritone laugh again. "Want another one? You'd have a matched set then." He lunged at my neck again and started sucking but not hard enough for a real hickey. It was more like slobbering, but slobbering can feel good too. Actually, slobbering felt wonderful! It was all I could do to get the water into the coffee maker and get it turned on. And it wasn't the only thing getting turned on. I was getting hard again, and he was already hard enough to rip through my boxers with ease.

I turned around and put my arms around his neck. His hair was still damp and combed straight back. "You look like a movie star from the '30s," I said. He shook his head side to side like a golden retriever coming out of a lake. Little droplets of water sprayed my face and Holy Water came to mind. "Now you look much better. You look like you." I couldn't believe that after last night he could blush, but did he ever. "How about if I give you a hickey? On the end of your dick? Then you'd have something to remember me by for a few days. You just couldn't show it to anybody."

"I don't plan on sharing you with anybody. And I don't think I'll need that to remember you," he grinned. "But it does sound like a good idea."

We wound up on the floor of the kitchen--another first for me--locked in a serious 69. And I mean serious! After making sure he had at least a mild hickey on the head of his dick, I took him in totally and did the tonsil tickle three times in a row. That did it for him. He let loose of me and I heard an "OHMIGOD! OHJESUS!" as he erupted and tried to impale me even more with his dick. It was good to know that I could remember something useful from my former life. Neither his mouth nor his hand was on me, but I could feel myself shooting at the same time. This was unreal. With last night and this morning, I had never ever had sex this good. This boy was definitely a keeper. And in probably less than an hour he'd be walking out of my life forever. Well, I was going to prolong this as much as I could. All the more to remember him by.

We just lay there on the kitchen floor, the only sounds coming from the coffee pot pumping out its own liquid and ignoring the two of us and our labored breathing as we came down from this escapade. Feeling his tongue slurping up the jizz in my crotch kept me half-hard for the longest time. Randy pivoted around to face me and pulled me into a tight hug. "God that was intense! How did you do that thing with your throat?"

I gave him my stock answer. "It's simple; you just breathe through your ears and keep going down." He laughed again.

"You'll have to teach me how to do that. I want to do it to you too." I like this guy's attitude. And I let him know by kissing him. Several times.

"You know, you've made me break almost all of my rules," I said matter-of-factly. He frowned questioningly, so I went on. "I realize that sex is Nature's way of saying 'Hi' but I hardly ever do that on the first date. Second date, maybe if the chemistry is right. Third date...Well, if we haven't done it by then, I'll just send a nice Thank You card and move along.

"But I am so glad I threw out the rule book last night. It was unquestionably the best night I've ever had. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." Each "thank you" was punctuated with a kiss. His response caught me off guard.

"You're weird." Slowly a smile overtook his face. "Good thing I like 'weird', huh?"

"Yeah, I think it's a terrific thing. Now I've got to take a shower. And you probably want something to eat."

"You kidding? I'm always hungry. Got any cereal?"

"There's some Grape Nuts in the pantry over there."

"Oh good," he said dryly, "gravel with milk and sugar." I laughed at that and showed him where the sugar bowl was and which drawer the spoons were in, then left him to his own devices.

I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and there was some guy who looked kinda like me except he had this huge grin on his face. When was the last time you smiled like this, I asked myself. Well, when was the last time you got laid on the kitchen floor? And in the morning, no less! If this smile gets any bigger, I'll have to call Dr. Frank and ask him to put in some more teeth. Then I can look like Jimmy Carter. Okay, let's not get carried away here.

The toothpaste did its thing. Funny, he never said anything about "morning breath." So he's a gentleman too. The shaving cream went on and came off in quicker strokes than usual. Then I did it again. Hmmm, haven't done that since my first real date in college.

I was lathering up my body in the shower when I heard the door open and Randy's voice asking, "Bob, you almost finished?"

"Just a few minutes more." I poked my dripping head out of the curtain and gave him a grin. "Unless you want to help in here, that is."

God, what a smile he has. I wish I could see that every morning; I could get real used to it. "Well, the offer is tempting, but I'll have to pass this morning. I just wanted to let you know that I've got to be going. It's after 10 now, and it's a two-hour trip back to the city. If I don't get stopped."

I snorted at that. "What State Trooper would even think of pulling over a young guy in fire-engine red Mustang going 10 miles over the limit?"

"Damn near all of them."

"Okay, let me rinse off real quick so I can give you a proper sendoff." Damn, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all. But then, I wasn't really sure how I did want it to go. It's been too long since I played the dating game.

The towel probably knocked off more water than it absorbed. I wrapped it around my waist and threw open the bathroom door fully expecting to see Randy letting himself out of the apartment. He was standing right there. "Oh, uhh, hello." He was just as I had seen him at the theater. His hands were in his pockets, his shirt open showing off his wife-beater. And he was smiling that same smile. Except now he was smiling at me.

Suddenly the words were difficult to get out. My glibness was gone and my "quick wit" had turned into "half wit" and I was stammering like a tongue-tied teenager. "Listen, I want, uhh, that is, you were so...I mean, I want you to know that, uhh, last night was, uhh, well, like, uhh, no other night I've ever had. Ever." Now the words were coming out in a flash flood of thoughts. "Listen, I don't know if we'll ever hook up again, 'cuz you're going back home and we don't even know if you'll be coming back here for school and even if you do you'll want to hang around with guys your own age which I can understand 'cuz you'll have a lot more in common with them than you'd ever have with me and you probably won't have time to..." I was cut off by Randy raising my chin and making me look deep into his eyes.

"Shut up and kiss me." What a pair we must have seemed right then. Him with that half smile, obviously enjoying my discomfort, like he knew exactly what he wanted and I with a deer-in-the-headlights look. Somehow things had gotten reversed here. He was seducing me instead of me seducing him. And I'm old enough to be his father. Damn! I told myself I wasn't going to even think that much less say it.

But what a kiss that was. It was like the one at the bar just yesterday, not a kiss of passion--we'd done enough of that last night and this morning--but a kiss loaded with, well, let's just say "lots of feeling." I think it's still too soon to use the "L" word, if you catch my drift. Still, when he backed off, my head was light and it wouldn't take much of a salesman to talk me into another round of passionate coupling.

"I'll call you this week." Whoa! Now there's a warning bell. Step One of the kiss-off. I tried to keep a neutral look on my face to hide my disbelief, but I could still feel my eyes starting to narrow into their "Oh sure you will" look.

"I mean it. I want to come back next weekend. Friday if I can get away, Saturday for sure." He leaned away from me, still holding onto my waist, with a strange expression on his face, like he had just noticed a huge zit on the tip of my nose. "You don't believe me, do you?" No shit, Sherlock! Is there anybody alive who hasn't promised they'd call and then never did?

I tried my most convincing smile. "Yes. Yes, I do believe you." I could tell he wasn't buying it. He wasn't even renting it on a short-term lease.

"Okay, what if I fix it so I have to come back next week?" That must have been a rhetorical question because I didn't know what to say. He kept looking me in the eye as he pried off his sandals. "Here, you hold onto these until I come back for them next week." Well, I'll give him points for originality, that's for sure.

"You don't think you'll get some questions when you walk in your house barefoot? They notice things like that, you know."

"I've got a pair of sneaks in the trunk. I'll be okay."

"Well, let me give you my business card then so you have the numbers." I went back in the computer room and had to rummage through the mess of papers on top and in the drawer for what seemed way too long a time. I didn't want him getting impatient and leaving without the numbers. Then I'd be dead sure that he'd never be back. I finally found one and wrote my apartment number on the back. "This has both upstairs and downstairs numbers on it. My business email address is on there too. I'm always online at work, so if you mail me there, I'll know right away."

"Okay, thanks. And I will call. I promise." We started toward the door.

"Good. And listen, be careful driving. There's lots of crazies out there on the road now that the weekend is winding down, so keep your eyes open. And call me when you get home so I'll know you got there okay."

"Yes, Dad." He stretched out "Dad" in the same sing-songy way all kids use with their parents. I remember, because I used to do it myself. Now it was my turn to blush.

I could only grin sheepishly. "Sorry. I guess that was a parental moment, wasn't it?" He nodded and I caressed his cheek, maybe my last touch of him forever. "I don't want to be your father."

He took my hand, turned it and kissed the palm. "And I don't want you to be my father. I already have one." He turned and stepped through the doorway taking the steps carefully in his bare feet.

"Be careful of the bottom step," I cautioned, "there's a loose..."

"OWWW! Dammit to hell!"

"...nail head sticking up. Sorry." He looked up at me from the landing, and his grimace had turned back into the killer smile. He pushed open the door and he was gone.

I stood for a moment just staring at that empty space, then turned and hurried into the kitchen. I could get one more glimpse of him from there as he got in his car. I yanked up the blinds on the kitchen window to have an unobstructed last look. He was sitting on the trunk edge stuffing his size 12's into a beat up pair of sneakers. He looked up and waved, got in the car and moments later he was gone. Probably for good.

I was still watching the empty spot at the curb where he had turned onto the street when I let out my breath. Was I expecting him to make a U-turn and come back in the lot? No, but I sure as hell was hoping he would. But that wasn't going to happen, and I knew it.

I went back to the living room to close the door, then to the bathroom to tidy up. When I looked in the mirror, I saw someone who had just lost his best friend. Or at least his best lay. Slowly his smile returned, but now it was on my face. Well, I thought, he was right about one thing. It certainly was fun!