Mellicat
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“Thomas? Is there something wrong? I mean… Well, besides your dad?” Lisa asked. It was the next morning at the house. Thomas had come in to shower and grab a change of clothes. He was helping the kids make a breakfast of cereal and toast. He stopped what he was doing at Lisa’s question, butter knife still in his hand. Now was not the best time… but then again, when would be a ‘good’ time? “What do you mean?” he asked. He wasn’t going to make this easy for her. “I don’t know, you seem di
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“Just tell him to stay the fuck away from me,” Robbie told Jamie. “I’m here for Mom, that’s it. No one else.” It was later the next morning and they were back in the waiting room. After Thomas had stormed out, Robbie had paced around the room. Finally, he left too, saying he needed some coffee. Jamie sat back down and eventually fell into a fitful sleep. When he awoke it was light out and Robbie was once again pacing around the room. “What time is it?” Jamie had asked. “A little af
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“When was the last time you were home?” Robbie asked Jamie as they walked into their parents’ house. “Um, about two months ago. Why?” “It’s just that nothing has changed.” “When was the last time you were home, Robbie?” Robbie shook his head. “I don’t know; I was still in college. It’s been awhile.” They were in the formal living room and Robbie looked around to see the same furniture, the same drapes and carpet. It was soothingly familiar and oddly haunting at the same ti
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Twenty years ago – Robbie soaked in a warm bath while his mother whipped up some blueberry pancakes, but by then his weariness over took his hunger and he could barely keep his eyes open long enough to get one pancake down. "Come on, buddy. Let's get you into bed. You've had a rough night,” Fred said and he lifted his son up from his chair at the kitchen table and carried him to bed. "Night Robbie," Jamie called after them, "I'm glad you're okay." The boys had awakened to find
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Twenty years ago – "Rob-bie." Robbie's eyes shot open. "Dad?" "Robbie, Where are you?" He sat up; he was so cold. He had been lying on the ground curled up as tightly as he could. The sun was starting to light up the sky, but there was dense fog keeping things shadowy. "Daddy? I'm here." "Robbie? Keep talking to me son, I can't see you yet." "I'm over here, Dad. Come get me please. It's cold." Robbie could hear the crunch of twigs as someone was walking toward
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Twenty years ago – Robbie opened his eyes to darkness. Where was he? What happened? Why did his head hurt? He blinked a few times, becoming more aware. He was laying on something cold, hard and crunchy. Why was it so dark? He remembered playing with his brothers at the stream. Thomas had sent him off to look for more twigs. What had happened? Robbie started to set up, then a sharp pain in his left ankle sent him back to the ground. Ah, crap. He had stepped in a hole. He r
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Twenty years ago – "Rob-bie," Jamie shouted as he walked through the wooded area behind their home. "Rob-bie." His best guess was that his little brother had been missing for close to two hours. He had been wandering around the woods calling for what seemed like forever. Jamie feared he was either lost… or worse. "Rob-bie," he continued to yell, as he made his way further into the woods. "Robbie, where are you?" Jamie heard his brother shouting, too. Good, at least Thomas had
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Twenty years ago – “Hand me that log over there,” Thomas said to his brother, Jamie. “No, not that one, that one over there.” Thomas was the oldest of the three brothers; children of a small town doctor and his doting wife. They spent most of their lazy summer days playing in the small creek that ran behind their house. That day Thomas had suggested they build a dam. “Robbie, we need more logs,” Thomas said. At eight years of age Robbie was the youngest and in many ways still the
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Family can bring out the best and the worst in us
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On the crowded sweaty dance floor, Jason and Kyle ground their bodies together to the slow seductive tempo of the music. It was late and they had consumed just enough alcohol to loosen their inhibitions. I know you like me I know you do That's why whenever I come around she's all over you. Jason could feel Kyle's rock hard dick against his thigh as he pressed his own rigid cock against Kyle. Kyle's lips covering his, his tongue exploring Jason's mouth. Kyle's hands on the small of Jason'
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Hot moves on the dance floor.
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Kia was looking for a good book to read. He loved spending time at the local bookstore, walking up and down the aisles, smelling the mixed aroma of ink and coffee. He had always had a thing for books, ever since he could remember. As a teenager, books had been his solace, his escape from the taunts and teasing. Kia had never fit in; he was never interested in sports or girls or any of the other things the boys his ages found so appealing. So it was no wonder that he still held a special place
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In the end it wasn’t really HIV or AIDS that got him, even though that is what is listed on the death certificate. It was the drugs he was on to keep him alive. Ironic huh? See, while the advances that have been made in the fight of this disease have been amazing, people are living longer and living better, the fact remains that these drugs are toxic, with terrible side effects, one of which is heart damage. That’s what got Dylan in the end. I know that this is what Dylan would have wanted, p
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A book on sexual addiction appeared on my nightstand not long after I moved back in with Dylan. It lay there untouched for months. I didn’t want to hear his excuses; didn’t care why he did what he did. Or maybe I was afraid to hear them, maybe I was afraid it had been my fault, that there were things I had done, or not done that caused him to seek out other men. Then one night while I lay awake contemplating my life and my relationship with Dylan, I decided ‘what the fuck’, and began reading the
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I ran into Dylan two months after I had left. I walked into my favorite coffee bar one afternoon and did a double take when I saw him sitting at a table in the corner. I almost didn’t recognize him; he looked so thin, and pale. But, then I should have known that he wouldn’t take care of himself; that he would punish himself for what had happened, being harder on himself than even I was. Seeing him there, it made me realize a couple things: I still loved him, and he still needed me. Now before
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My therapist has suggested I tell my side of the story, so this is it. After reading what Dylan said you probably think I’m naive or an idiot. I’m neither. Or maybe I’m both. I just don’t know anymore. He was right about one thing: I would have left. If he had told me, I would have left. When he did tell me, I left. I didn’t cry or yell and scream. I didn’t say a word, I just packed a few changes of clothes and left. I wanted nothing from the apartment, those things would only remind me of
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Christian speaks... sequel to Betrayal.
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I've spent the last four years in recovery. I wish I could tell you I've been successful, that I've been monogamous with Christian, but I can't. I've slipped, more than once. I’ve been able to hide my work with SAA from Christian for the same reason I could hide my tricking; Christian is the most trusting soul on the planet. He never questions my excuses to disappear for a few hours to attend a meeting. Never asks who was on my cell. Just as he never questioned me when I would go out tricking
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Christian and I had been together almost three years when I discovered that my affliction had a name. That I wasn't the only one with these urges, these needs. I was in a book store, looking to pick up some pretty little twink and let him blow me in the restroom, when I saw the answer to so many of my questions sitting on the shelf in front of me, screaming for me to open it up and find out the answers. The book's title was “Sexual Addiction.” That was all; but it said everything. I picked
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I chickened out. I didn’t go to the doctor. Christian fussed at me for a while, but eventually he gave up. I did a better job of hiding my depression from him, and after a few weeks, I began to feel better. Of course, I had started tricking again fairly regularly. I guess I had simply resigned myself to my fate. It was around that time that I discovered cyber sex. Like I said, Christian was going to school three nights a week to earn his MBA. With all that time on my hands, I had plenty of op
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We never discussed monogamy. Christian was just the type of guy that expected it; his only flaw was that he was naive enough to think I could give it to him. I did pretty well the first six months or so we were together. I only tricked once or twice a month. How pathetic is it to be proud of that? I was always careful; I always made them assume more of the risk. I always used a condom, and I never bottomed for anyone but Christian. I never took another man's dick in my mouth. That was only fo
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I'm not really a bad guy. You'll probably think that I am by the end of my story, but really, I'm not. I don't know if I can explain it. I can tell you that I love Christian. He had nothing to do with it. Those other men, that was just sex; with Christian it was always different. Some people would say it's about power and control, but that's not the way it was with me. I had no power or control. I know that what I did was dangerous and stupid. I know that it was meaningless, but I had no powe
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When I saw him there, across the room, I knew I had to have him; had to possess that fine little ass, if only for a few moments. I was attending a dreary little art show for some up and coming new gay artist. Until I spotted him my plan was to make my appearance, have a couple drinks; shake a couple of hands and get the hell out of Dodge. Then I saw him. My plans changed. He was tall and lean, almost lanky. I doubted him to be no more than nineteen. His longish blond hair fell into his eye
