I folded my face into his chest hair. He had said the best thing I had ever
heard.
He stroked my back and said, "I would be lost without you."
"I am lost with you," I responded. He pulled me close and kissed the top of
my head.
"Never let me go," he said.
"I couldn't," I responded, "even if it was the right thing to do."
"It is not," he assured me.
Part Eight
I headed back to Chicago, planning to visit John every weekend until his
summer ended. Although we had talked about it, reality thwarted our idea of
living together. He already had a lease with two friends. I had a
non-refundable deposit.
I bought a car, so I could travel toward him when I needed to see him. He
had a car, so the opposite was true.
When I unloaded my things, I found an envelope with "Carrot" written in
John's simple script. I opened it to find a brief note: "I love the getting
caught in thunderstorms. Always and forever, John."
The "A and F" from "always and forever" became another code for us.
Quickly, it became Abercrombie and Fitch. When I wanted to tell John I
loved him at a table full of people, I now had three codes: "Lightning,"
"Tons," and "Abercrombie and Fitch."
As a 2L, I set my own schedule. All of my classes met only on Monday,
Tuesday, and Wednesday, which left every Thursday and Friday free. As soon
as I was done on Wednesday, I beelined down 55 to St. Louis. John had to
work Thursday and Friday, so I studied. I put my books down when he got
home, stripped, and joined him on the living room floor or in his bed. The
sex was fantastic. The intimacy was better.
On my first weekend back, we laid on the living room floor. We were cheek
to cheek, but pointing in opposite directions.
I had taken to calling him "L.O.M.L." which was shorthand for "love of my
life." I raised my hand and cradled his left cheek. "LOML," I said. "What's
the next chapter?
We proceeded to talk about dreams, goals, life, and perceptions. John
definitely wanted our story to continue, but he wanted it to be a side
story, hidden from view.
He wanted to get married. He wanted me to get married. He wanted our wives
to be friends. He wanted our kids to play together. And, he wanted to keep
going as we were going, hiding in plain sight.
Open with me did not fit his view. He wanted to be admired and respected.
He wanted to rub elbows with Senators, business leaders, and other pillars
of the community.
I wanted none of those things. I wanted John, notorious and open. But, I
was too much in the throes of it to throw down the gauntlet.
Each visit was like the one before. We spent almost all our time naked and
wrapped in each other. When we weren't making love, we read to each other,
in bed, on the couch, or on the living room floor. More often than not, he
read to me. He had a better voice. And, I liked to rest my head on his
chest or in his lap as he read.
Every time Vi offered to visit, John turned her down. He claimed he was too
busy trying to get a permanent offer from Bryan Cave. His claim was
specious. He had gone to Yale. He was at U of C. He was clerking on the
D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals. He had an offer before the summer even
started.
Freddie went with me for the final weekend before John returned to Chicago.
He had met a girl on his prior visit, and he thought a weekend visit might
get him laid. When I picked him up for the drive back to Chicago, it was
clear he had been wrong.
"She was a total cocktease," he diagnosed. "And, now Black Bart is hungry."
"Black Bart?" I asked.
"My dick."
"I have to ask, why 'Black Bart'?"
"Black Bart was a famous miner. He spent his life in dark tunnels. So, I
named my dick after him. They have a lot in common. My dick loves dark
tunnels."
"Actually, that's pretty clever," I said.
About halfway to Chicago, we stopped for gas and a snack. Freddie offered
to drive the rest of the way, and I let him.
After about thirty minutes, Freddie started in about a sex game he had
played with his buddies in college. They tallied points, depending on what
who got what and when. The point of his story seemed to be that "road head"
carried a significant point total. I thought I knew where he was headed,
but I decided to let it play out.
After another fifteen minutes or so, Freddie reminded me that he had let a
gay friend blow him in college. I cut to the chase.
"Freddie, you seem to be fishing for a blow job. If you want one, you're
going to have to ask for one."
"May I have a blow job please?" he asked.
"I dunno. It feels like I'd be cheating on John."
"Are you kidding me?" he asked. "You fuck Ellie. He fucks Vi. Cheating is
inherent in what you're doing."
"Yeah, but they're both girls. Somehow, it feels different."
"Suit yourself," he said. "But, I have a really nice dick. Black Bart is
tall, dark, and handsome, just like me."
"Show him to me. Maybe I'll change my mind."
Freddie pulled his shorts out and tucked the waist band under his balls. He
was right. He had an awesome dick. Not as big as mine, but perfectly shaped.
"Tempting, isn't it?" he asked.
"It is. I'd be lying if I told you it isn't."
"Take it if you want it," he said.
I felt a pang of guilt, but I decided to seize the moment. I leaned over
and took Black Bart into my mouth. He was sweaty and salty, but smooth as
silk. Freddie weaved his hand into the back of my hair and controlled both
the depth and tempo. It was not long before I felt Black Bart swell, as if
he was flexing his muscles. Freddie's cum followed, filling my mouth. It
tasted of vanilla.
"Well, how'd I do," I asked.
"You're a natural. Like a duck to water."
"You have a nice dick."
"Thanks. I told you I did."
"Not as nice as mine. But, nice, nonetheless."
"Why'd you change your mind?" he asked.
"I thought I should experiment a little. I mean, I just started all this. I
wanted to see what it was like with someone besides John."
"Was it any different?"
"Not really. But, your cum tastes better. Not as bitter. A little sweet."
"Hmm. I've never heard that before."
"Haven't you ever tasted it?" I asked.
"Nope."
"You should try it."
"I think I might."
*****
By the time John returned to Chicago at the end of September, Ellie and I
were done. Freddie had been right about us, and she "connected" with a
first year she met in the lunch line (ridiculously, he was from Wyoming and
named Clint). Go figure. I was not disappointed, but I gave her a multiple
orgasm as a parting gift.
As I left, she said, "I may call you if I ever need to be fucked properly."
"Don't lose my number," I said. "When Clint is done and gone, call me. I'll
finish what he can't."
Vi was not as easy to re-direct. She obviously felt threatened, as she
acted like a dog when the baby is brought home. She
was constantly trying
to insinuate herself between me and John. I was not party to their
exchanges, thankfully. I felt for John. He was trying to balance unequal
weights.
I wanted John to meet the Brady Bunch, as our class referred to us. We were
six, three men (Freddie, Gregory, and me) and three women (Ellie, Jennifer,
and Maggie). We all went to dinner, and John joined us.
About halfway through dinner, I went to the bathroom, and Maggie followed
me. Maggie was my partner in comedic crime.
"Max, what the fuck? Are you guys lovers?"
"No," I lied. "Why?"
"You should be. It's clear you're in love with each other."
"We're not. I have no idea why you even say that."
"Well, you may not know it yet, but you are. I hope someday someone looks
at me the way he looks at you. And the way you look at him."
"I think you're seeing things," I admonished.
"I think you're ignoring things," she rejoined. "Or lying."
"I'm not lying," I lied again.
"Well, I'm not seeing things. You guys are head over heels for each other.
If you haven't acted on it, you should. Before it's too late."
"I'm not gay," I persisted.
"I'm not saying you are. But, I am saying you are in love with John. If
you're in love with someone, you should let them know. Sooner than later.
It doesn't matter who it is. Love is fleeting. Don't miss it."
I hugged her. I knew as I did that I was confirming all that I had denied.
I squeezed her tight, and she squeezed me tighter. "I'm so happy for you,"
she whispered in my ear.
"Don't tell Ellie," I said. Ellie and Maggie were thicker than thieves.
"She knows. She told me about 'John' after she visited you this summer. She
said she thought you were in love with him. If not, then she was convinced
you were obsessed with him. She said he was all you talked about."
"I had just met him," I said. "I had never felt anything like that. When he
looked at me, I felt like I was the only person in the room."
"Max, I am really happy for you. Please be careful. And," she emphasized,
"safe."
"We are," I lied yet again.
*****
Halloween weekend, John and I rented a cabin in Wisconsin. I have no idea
what he told Vi.
I gave him a roadie as we drove north. When I was finished and back upright
in my seat, he took my hand in his, weaving his fingers between mine. I
pulled his hand to my face and kissed it.
"I love you, Josie," I said. "Always and forever."
"I love you, too, Carrot," he offered back. "Tons."
We didn't say anything for the next hour. When we got settled in our cabin,
we were so needy we almost tore each other's clothes off. I laid flat on
the bed, my arms above my head. John stood at the foot of the bed, holding
my feet against his shoulders. He stood as he took me.
When he was finished, he asked me to take him. He was on his back, and he
insisted I go as slow as I could. I have no idea how long I took, but it
was the slowest fuck I have ever delivered. He took the length of me over
and over as we stared into each other's eyes. My arms were about to give
out when I finally came, shuddering as I did.
We needn't have driven to a cabin. We never went outside.
We went on like that, sneaking fucks whenever we could and not sneaking
them when we didn't have to. I had met John's friends, and they agreed with
his "remarkably normal" diagnosis. His friends were not "remarkably
normal." They were erudite and extraordinary. They would some day make the
rules we all lived by.
*****
At Christmas, I drove John home. Because of ice, our five hour drive took
ten.
I spent the entire three week break at his house. His mother told me I
could not be more welcome if I had been kidnapped.
John's mother set me up in my own room on John's floor. We were smart, so I
rolled around in the bed so it smelled of me. But, I spent every night in
John's bed. To avoid making noise, we fucked and sucked on the floor. But,
we slept in his bed, wrapped in each other.
I didn't care what my parents thought. I didn't see them much over the
break. John was the most important thing to me at that point.
On Christmas Eve, John gave me a handmade backgammon set as a gift. I gave
him an authentic Blues jersey and a CD of our songs, starting with "Mr.
Blue."
His parents had long since gone to bed when we exchanged gifts. We built a
fire in the fireplace and opened a bottle of Cabernet. It was late, and we
were on the floor in front of the fireplace when John suggested we should
welcome Christmas making love to each other. We slowly undressed, kissing
as we did. We took each other in front of the fire, slowly. We now always
stared deep into each other's eyes as we made love. It was the most
romantic night of my life. It was 2 a.m. when we finished with each other.
John pulled a blanket over us as the fire died. We weren't thinking
properly. We fell asleep, naked, on the living room floor.
John's mother woke us up the next morning. "Merry Christmas, Sleepy Heads,"
she said, ignoring that her son was naked with another man on her living
room floor.
She went to the kitchen. John turned to me, kissed my forehead, and said,
"Calm down, my mother is awesome."
"I'm naked," I pleaded.
"I know," he said, grabbing my dick and kissing me. He jacked me as we
kissed. I felt sinful when I came in his hand, his mother just through the
archway.
Not long after, John's mom was at the door. "John," she said. "Your father
will be up shortly, and I think he will be nonplussed to find the two of
you entangled on the living room floor."
I dressed and got ready to leave. I hugged John's mother good-bye and
wished her a Merry Christmas as I left. She whispered "I knew something was
making him happy" in my ear.
John walked me to my car. "Merry Christmas, Josie," I said. "I love you
more than life itself."
John leaned into my car, and kissed me for all the neighbors to see. "Merry
Christmas, Mace," he said. "I love you more than you love me. I win."
Part Nine
The year went on like that. Vi evanesced, at least as far I was concerned.
I heard little about her. I wanted to hear less than I did.
Spring Break, I had interviews on the Ninth Circuit for an appellate
clerkship. I went from Chicago to Reno to San Francisco to San Diego and
back. The airline lost my bag. Stupidly, my apartment keys were in my bag.
Hurriedly, I had put my jacket -- key in pocket -- in the bag. So, when
John retrieved me from O'Hare, I was homeless.
John's roommates had scattered for Spring Break. So, I moved in.
We spent four days in bed. We put Chips Ahoy by the bed, so we could cure
our bad breath with a cookie when we woke up. I sucked Joe with an ice cube
in my mouth. And, with beer in my mouth. And, with champagne in my mouth.
When we weren't having sex, we were reading to each other or asleep. We
were exhausted by the time the airline returned my bag.
I wanted this to go on and on, but the end w
as bearing down on us. John
would graduate and move to D.C., leaving me behind in Chicago. He had
predicted he'd be in St. Louis to study for the bar, so I took a job with
another St. Louis firm for my 2L summer. Vi ruined everything, landing a
post-doctorate fellowship in Denver. John had to decide between Denver and
St. Louis for the summer, and Vi made the decision for him with an
ultimatum. I should have made one of my own.
So, I spent the summer in a city I did not want to be in, only because I
thought John would be there with me. Instead, he was in Denver, getting
ready to move to D.C.
We saw each other little that summer. The bar exam consumed him, and Vi
gave him little rope. I felt the first glimmers of anxiety.
I hid my anxiety in Freddie. He, too, was in St. Louis for the summer, and
we hung out almost every night. Our apartments were only blocks away from
each other, and we routinely played 9 holes or tennis after work, or ran
Friend Bangs My Wife in Front of Me Page 35
