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I saw an editorial in the Advocate the other day, an ode to love and monogamy, penned by someone who’d found his soul mate. Give up that promiscuous, joyless sex, he said. It can’t ever be as good as sex with the one man you love.
I shook my head after I read it. He made it all sound so simple. Maybe it was, for him.
Once I thought Bruce Walker and I had a relationship like that. It hasn’t turned out quite that way. For the ninety-nine percent of us who are mere human beings it’s not an either-or situation. Give Lloyd Kothman credit for showing us that.
Sometimes when I’m in a mood I wonder whether Lloyd did it out of love for us, as he insists, or just to see if he could. I wonder whether we’re all better off now, or whether we’d all be happier if he’d just let well enough alone. I just don’t know.
Several years ago anyone would have said that Bruce and me, Gene Richey, were a model couple. We had been partners for fifteen years and owned a house together. Lloyd and Charlie Robbins, his partner, were our best friends. The four of us were inseparable–we went out to dinner, the bar (when Bruce could stand the smoke), the movies, everywhere. One of our favorite hangouts was a local gay-owned coffeehouse, where we’d sit around a large round wooden table on weekend mornings for hours, talking, arguing and laughing a lot.
Looking back I might have seen the signs of trouble ahead. For one thing, monogamy meant different things to Lloyd and to Bruce. Once in a while Lloyd would make a crack about how he was going to steal me from Bruce. We’d laugh, but I knew that to Bruce it wasn’t a joke. In the early years of our relationship I hadn’t taken fidelity as seriously as my partner and had paid dearly for it. After the crisis I had promised not to stray, and had kept my word.
I had been stupid, of course, to have messed with such a good thing. Bruce was a catch. He had an endowed chair in economics at the major university in town, an unusual accomplishment for someone just past forty. His salary dwarfed what I got teaching English and writing at the community college. What’s more, he had the looks to go along with his brains and mullah. He had a full head of dark hair just beginning to be peppered with gray, wide dark eyes, finely shaped nose and full lips. His body was trim and looked great in the suits he always wore to class, mostly because of his constant worrying about getting fat. Bruce stuck to his workout schedule at the gym and the pool to the point where I complained. Maybe I was bitching because I knew the guys in the locker room were getting a free eyeful every time he stripped down. On top of everything else Bruce had equipment most men would kill to have. I’d seen the envious, lustful glances he got when we changed or showered together in a public place.
He was just about the perfect man, and he had chosen me to share his life.
Some demon in me, though, wasn’t content with the riches I had. Lloyd, as perceptive as he was, as good a friend as he was, must have seen that. I can’t put all the blame on him for starting things down the slippery slope.
One sunny spring afternoon I stopped by the coffeehouse. I was pleased to see Lloyd there, sitting in an overstuffed armchair. We both had more flexible hours than our partners, so we ran into each other more often.
“So how’s it going?” he asked as I settled myself across from him with a latte. “What happened to you?”
He had seen me wince with pain as I sat down. “Oh, nothing serious,” I replied. “Pulled a back muscle yesterday at the gym. Trying too hard to keep up with those hot young things all around me.”
Lloyd looked thoughtful. “I could help you with that, maybe.”
“How?”
“I’ve been taking some massage classes. I’m trying to get certified.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “I could use the practice. What are you doing tonight?”
“Well, this is Bruce’s night to man the Outyouth help line. So I suppose I’m free.”
A couple of hours later I said to my partner after dinner, “I’m going over to Lloyd’s and Charlie’s while you’re gone. Lloyd’s giving me a massage.”
Bruce was putting on his windbreaker. “Let me know how it goes. I’ve been thinking of getting a massage myself.”
I nodded. “If he’s good I’ll let you know. Maybe he could practice on you too.”
“See you back here around nine.”
I didn’t realize it at the time, but our relationship had moved into uncharted waters with barely a ripple.
A while later I knocked on the door to Lloyd and Charlie’s house. Lloyd answered the door dressed in T-shirt, shorts, and running shoes, as if he was going to the gym. At fifty-four years of age Lloyd was the oldest of us. He was determined not to let that show, and mostly succeeded. Only his thinning hair betrayed him.
“Charlie’s out for the evening. We’re going to be in here,” he said, leading me back into the house. To my surprise, we stopped at the master bedroom.
“Charlie’s okay with this?” For the first time I felt uneasy.
Lloyd Ankara escort was undisturbed. “Well, we can’t use any of the front rooms, and my office is too full of junk. Yeah, he’s fine with it. I always take the table down right after.”
I looked inside at padded wooden massage table fitted with a sheet, towels and a row of bottles all set up on a nearby dresser. I had to admit it looked very professional.
Lloyd picked up a small plastic bottle of oil. “I’ll go warm this up. Why don’t you get ready and I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Uh–what should I do? I’ve never had a real massage.”
He smiled. “Just get undressed and lie on your stomach. Put your face there.” He pointed to a padded ring attached to one end of the table.
“Completely?”
“Well, it’ll be easier for me and more beneficial for you if I can work on your whole body, Gene. But if you’d rather keep something on–“
“It’s okay.” I couldn’t put my finger on why I felt nervous about getting naked in front of Lloyd. At the same time I couldn’t deny that I was excited. I was breathing fast and I could feel my heart beating in my chest. Things were stirring elsewhere too. I was glad that we were going to start face down.
“Good. I’ll let you get ready.” He walked out, closing the door behind him. I took my clothes off and put them on a nearby chair. When I had stripped down I got on the table on my stomach as Lloyd had suggested. I reached under me and adjusted my cock so it was pointing downward. It was swollen enough that it was a bit difficult to get it in that position, but leaving it up would be admitting that I had a hardon.
I closed my eyes, took deep breaths and tried to relax. The door opened and I heard Lloyd’s footsteps. He flicked a switch and the room was plunged into semidarkness. Another switch and soft music started. Lloyd seemed intent on doing things in a professional way and I began to feel a little less nervous.
He didn’t start massaging me right away. Instead, I heard a rustling noise and looked up. He was pulling his T-shirt up over his head. As I watched he pulled his shorts down and bent to untie his running shoes.
“What are you doing?” All my uneasiness came back in a rush.
Wearing only a jockstrap, Lloyd looked up. He smiled as he smoothed his hair. “I could tell you were uneasy about being nude, Gene. I thought it might make you more comfortable if I undressed too.”
I said nothing. Lloyd must have read my mind. “I’d never do this in a professional situation with a client I didn’t know well. But we’ve known each other for years, Gene. We’ve seen each other naked before.”
Lloyd and I had taken many a shower together at the gym and at the pool. This wasn’t any different, was it?
“Gene? Would you rather I didn’t?”
Was I going to order him to put his clothes on in his own house? I shrugged. “I guess it’s all right. It’s not like I’m going to be staring at you. Although,” I said, “You are looking great.”
Lloyd laughed. “Thanks. So are you.” He bent, skinned down the jock, stepped out of it and straightened up. He didn’t have a six-pack but otherwise he was in top shape, his shoulders broad, his pectorals defined, his waist narrow. His biceps bulged even when his arms were relaxed. I kept my head up long enough to catch a glimpse of his cut dick dangling long and soft between his muscular thighs. His balls were prize specimens too, large and low-hanging. He had just enough pubic hair to set everything off without hiding it. I felt my cock harden beneath me and ducked my head into the face cradle.
“Let’s start.”
I felt Lloyd’s hands apply cool lotion to my back, and begin to move. After a few moments I realized that Lloyd was serious about learning massage. He was already very good. Although I was still nervous my body began to melt under his touch almost in spite of myself.
“Where did you get hurt the other day, Gene?”
“It’s just below my left shoulder blade.”
He pressed at the spot hard, not holding back. I grunted as the tight muscle finally started to give.
“Does it hurt?”
I looked up and grinned at him. “Hurts so good.”
Lloyd said nothing but smiled as he continued to rub me. I laid my head down again, very conscious of the heat and presence of his body near mine. Gradually he shifted his focus lower, running his hands down my back and across my buttocks in long sweeps. A little of the massage lotion ran between my cheeks. I jumped as I felt Lloyd’s finger slide into the crack and over my asshole. Before I had time to react he had moved down to my feet. I let out my breath in a sigh. I couldn’t help wishing he had stayed there a little bit longer.
From my feet Lloyd’s hands moved up again. As he rubbed the backs of my thighs he began brushing the bottom of my ball sack. The head of my cock was pressed underneath and I felt shocks of pleasure as Lloyd’s fingers hit it as well. I began to suspect he was doing it on purpose. I thought about telling him to Ankara escort bayan cut it out, but I didn’t want to make a scene. Besides, there was no point in pretending I wasn’t enjoying what he was doing.
I shifted as my cock grew to the point where it began to ache underneath the weight of my body. Just then I felt Lloyd’s finger slip between my butt cheeks again. It tickled my asshole, already wet with the lotion, then to my complete surprise, slipped inside. I couldn’t helping letting out a yelp.
“Just relax,” Lloyd said. His finger moved inside me, sending waves of pleasure through my entire lower body. “Feel good?”
“Yes.” What else could I say?
“Massaging the prostate is a very healthy thing to do. Most men let theirs get way too full of fluid. This is one way to get things moving.”
If Lloyd’s idea was to get fluid out of me he was succeeding. I could feel precum leaking from my cock and forming a wet spot on the sheet underneath me. He slipped another finger inside me, stretching my hole. His other hand rubbed my back, then moved down and found my wet cock head. Soon I was jelly underneath his expert touch, moaning softly as he worked me over. Just as I felt the explosion start to build up inside me he withdrew his fingers and stopped teasing my privates. I felt relieved and disappointed at the same time. There was a pause as he wiped his hands with a towel.
“Ready to turn over, Gene? Slide down so your head’s resting on the table.”
For a moment I was embarrassed at the thought of showing my arousal to Lloyd, before I realized how silly that was. I turned over, my cock hard against my stomach, pointing at my navel. My eyes met Lloyd’s and saw his smile. His own cock was curving out, half-erect. As pretty as it was, it wasn’t quite as big as Bruce’s.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying this, Gene. Massage is a very sensual experience. We just need to accept that.” With that he placed both his hands on my chest and began to work my pectorals. These weren’t standard massage strokes. He kneaded my chest muscles with great care, passing his thumbs over my nipples again and again. Soon I was sighing and writhing under his touch, my eyes closed.
I suppose up until then I could have pretended to myself that what we were doing was still a massage, however unorthodox. Lloyd hadn’t touched me except with his hands, which were now gently passing over my stomach, brushing my erection. Then I felt soft, wet heat cover the head of my cock and opened my eyes to see him taking it into his mouth.
Part of me knew exactly what we were doing, both of us partnered to others. But I was too weak, too far gone to care.
So I didn’t resist as he continued to suck me, sliding down my shaft until his face was pressed into my pubic hair, his other hand tugging at my tit. I didn’t protest when he stopped, produced on a condom from somewhere and put it on. He climbed on the massage table, lifted my legs and put them over his shoulders.
His eyes locked on mine as he placed his rod against my asshole. My face was an open book, as naked as my body. If he had seen anything there telling him to stop he would have, I’m sure.
He pushed with his powerful thighs. I cried out and my head fell back onto the massage table as his hardness invaded me. I had been taken without a struggle.
We didn’t speak a word. The only sound other than our breathing was the massage table squeaking as Lloyd drove his cock into me. His face, framed by my calves, was contorted with concentration and desire. Sweat dripped from his brow onto my face. His musky scent filled my nostrils.
He took hold of my slick cock and began to stroke it. For the first time I tried to resist.
“No, don’t.” If I didn’t cum somehow it seemed less of a betrayal. He wasn’t about to allow me even that small concession. He grinned and shook his head as he jacked me harder.
“Please don’t…ahh…unggh…” I gave up the struggle and let the floodgates open, hot jets spurting from my engorged head and hitting oily skin, the bulk of my load puddling on my stomach.
Lloyd let go of my spent organ. His thrusts became violent, sending stabs of pain shooting through me. His gasping breaths rang in my ears. At last he threw his head in the air, arching his back. He stayed frozen in that position for a moment, then collapsed with his full weight onto me. I clenched my hole tight around his pulsing rod as it pumped its life out into the rubber buried in my ass.
Finally he raised himself and pulled out slowly. The sensation as my body let go of his flesh was exquisite, pleasure and pain in equal parts.
“Lloyd…”
He placed his fingers against my lips. “Just relax. I’ll get you cleaned up.”
He climbed off the table and padded away, his swollen cock jutting out from his body, latex glistening in the dim light. I slumped back onto the sheet and covered my face with one arm, as if to hide from the enormity of what I’d done. It didn’t work. Guilt washed over me in waves. For Escort Ankara the first time the air chilled my skin.
I heard footsteps on the carpet, then felt rough cloth on my skin. Lloyd mopped up my cum and put the towel aside. I kept my eyes shut until I sensed him bending down, his face close to mine.
“How are you doing?”
I laughed, but it hurt inside. “I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you get dressed and we’ll talk, okay?” He kissed me on the cheek, then bent to pick up his discarded clothes. “I’ll be out in the living room.”
Later I sat on the couch across from Lloyd, holding a tumbler of ice water he had given me, head bent. I couldn’t look him in the eye. My stomach was a hard, tight knot.
Lloyd broke the silence. “You okay, Gene?”
When I didn’t answer, he continued. “I didn’t plan on that happening.”
I shrugged and let that go, even though I wondered why he just happened to have a rubber handy.
“You and Bruce mean the world to me. I don’t want to lose either of you.”
“I’ve got to tell him what happened,” I said, more to myself than to Lloyd.
“Gene,” Lloyd said, “I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not? I broke my promise. I cheated on him.”
“Just hold on a minute. We’re good friends, aren’t we?”
After a moment I nodded.
“So we shared a little more than we usually do. We got carried away. It’s not going to happen again. Why upset him, maybe ruin your relationship? I’m not going to say anything to Charlie about it.”
I remembered that a year or so ago Lloyd and Charlie had a huge fight over some guy Lloyd had picked up when he was out of town at his niece’s wedding. I could see why he didn’t want to rock the boat. I was starting to think that wasn’t such a bad idea myself. I was a coward.
“Besides,” Lloyd said, “It could have just as easily happened with Bruce.”
My heart skipped a beat and I felt dizzy and faint. Then I got mad.
“What the fuck do you mean by that? Bruce is a great guy. He’d never do what I just did.” Lloyd tried to soothe me. “Gene, I didn’t mean it like that. All I was saying was I like both you guys so much. Sometimes I feel like I have three boyfriends.”
I snorted. “Four’s company?”
Lloyd chuckled. “Yeah, maybe so.” He grew serious. “Anyway, just promise me you’ll sleep on it. Don’t say something you’ll regret later.”
I sighed. “Okay. But I don’t think we should do any more massages.”
“It’s up to you.” Lloyd smiled. “But don’t you feel better?”
Truth was, I did. The nagging ache beneath my shoulder blade was gone, and I felt a warm glow all over. “You’re good at it, Lloyd.”
“Thanks, Gene. That means a lot. Now give me a hug. Then I promise to leave you alone.” His eyes twinkled as he gathered me into his arms. I let his warm, strong body envelop me once more, though I still felt guilty at how easily he had talked me into sweeping what we’d done under the rug. Also, though I tried not to admit it, my cock was stirring again at his touch.
“So how was the massage?” Bruce asked at home later that night, as he caught up on the New York Times. He still preferred getting his news the old-fashioned way.
My heart began to beat faster, and my voice sounded strained and funny in my ears. “Oh, fine. Lloyd’s very good.”
My partner didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. “Great. Maybe I’ll try him out sometime.”
“I’m sure he’d like that.” That was the end of it and I breathed an inward sigh of relief. Give it a week or two, and it would be like nothing had ever happened.
“Oh, by the way, remember Richard’s and David’s housewarming party’s this weekend. We’ve got to pick up a present.”
I shrugged. “They’re the couple with everything, including the biggest house in the neighborhood. What on earth can we get them?”
Bruce put the paper down and looked at me. “It’s not easy to think of anything, is it? Maybe I’ll give Lloyd a call. Charlie has an eye for that kind of thing.”
With a sinking feeling I realized our friends would be there as well. There wasn’t anything I could do to get out of the invitation without Bruce wondering what was up.
Richard was a college friend of Bruce’s who had gotten rich on technology stock, and had the sense to get out before it all came crashing down. He had bought an old house in one of the tonier neighborhoods in town with his partner and set about remodeling it. We’d driven by it a couple of times while the process was going on out of curiosity. Now at last it was ready, and we were going to get to see the inside. I thought the whole thing looked like someone’s nightmare, but it had gotten a cover on a national architectural magazine, so I suppose Richard knew what he was doing.
Saturday night came and we found ourselves in the entryway to Richard and David’s cavernous living room. David, who had answered the door, kissed both of us on the cheek. He was a slender, willowy man with silver hair and a mustache of the same color, striking against his salon-tanned skin. He designed a line of jewelry which regularly appeared at the better craft shops and shows in town.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” he exclaimed as he took the wrapped package Bruce handed him.
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