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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Jim and Chad, Part 1 - 1. Chapter 1 - Before Friday

Every once in a while you meet a person who turns your world upside down, screwing with your psyche in ways you never thought could happen. Maybe it happens slowly, maybe it happens suddenly, but the end result is always the same: the unexpected longings to be near that person; the awkward moments around that person because you're trying to act "cool" and not like some star-struck, babbling idiot; and the shockingly detailed erotic thoughts and images of what you'd like to do to that person and have him do to you. Depending on your situation, this could be a good thing, especially if it leads to something more permanent. But sometimes this makes life difficult, leading you to question your existing relationships and maybe even your own identity. That's what has happened to me with one particular co-worker. Chad is his name, and Jim is mine, thus you can begin to see what some might consider to be a problem in my "straight" world.

The following story is my fantasy about and with Chad, a fantasy that will never be acted out in real life. I apologize for stating this in advance because this simple statement seems to destroy the story for some readers. But no matter who you are, my hope is that you will get drawn into the twists and turns of the story and completely forget about this particular paragraph. Also, here's the standard disclaimer: if you have a problem with gay sex or your community standards don't allow for something like this, then go somewhere else. (It also makes me want to ask, "If you know this story is in the 'gay' category, then why the hell are you here?")
 
Chad, if you ever find yourself reading this story, which I seriously doubt, and you figure out who I am, please don't hate me for the fantasy and please continue to be friends with me. It's just a fantasy that will never be acted out in our very happy, yet separate, monogamous straight lives with our own families. I know both of us would be devastated if the events described early in this story really happened; however, if they did, maybe the rest of this story could be how we rebuild our lives together as more than just friends. . . .
 
---
 
Chapter 1 - Before Friday
 
I started with a mid-Atlantic company a few years ago. The company was small but growing enough each year that management finally had the resources and the need to build a new building. Unfortunately, in the move from the old building to the new building, all of us worker types got demoted from our own quiet offices to some spot in a noisy cube farm, while management got to keep their offices. None of us liked the situation, but it was either put up with it or leave.
 
Shortly after we moved into our new building, Chad was hired by the manager of a nearby group. Although he sat only a couple of cubes away from me, he seemed to be the quiet type because I never heard him in the office noise. He showed up on time each day (if not early), took a short lunch, and left work only after he had put in a full day. And based on the pissed-off grumblings of those who just wanted to collect a paycheck, I figured out that Chad did more for the company than two or three people combined. So when it came to the job, I truly respected Chad's intelligence and strong work ethic.
 
However, those attributes weren't what caught my attention on the first day: Chad was really good looking, not in that untouchable, magazine model perfect way, but in a real, approachable way that made everyone want to get to know him better. His Irish features, along with the wide shoulders and the well-groomed, short brown hair gave him a healthy, athletic look. He also seemed to be around six feet tall, because his eyes were slightly lower than mine when we stood to discuss something. Unfortunately, he always wore loose clothing so I couldn't really figure out what the rest of his body looked like, but maybe that was a good thing. I'm pretty sure no one wanted to see me get even more stupid around him than I already was.
 
But I'd have to say that the best looking part of Chad was his face. It was perfectly formed and symmetrical, with a strong, square jaw line that gave him this rugged, squarish look from both the front and the side. Chad's face was perfect to me even with the small smattering of almost invisible freckles that made him look younger than he really was. I know he didn't like those freckles because I still remember the look of horror on his face when one female co-worker called them "cute and adorable." After that, he seemed to stay a little more tanned so those freckles disappeared completely. But no matter what Chad thought of those freckles, his face always got to me, especially on those occasional Fridays when he hadn't shaved. Oh, what a beard he could have grown.
 
And, then there were the smiles. He had his everyday smile and laugh that everyone loved to see and hear. But while we didn't see if often, if he was really happy and excited about something, Chad's full-blown "megawatt" smile appeared, either making you weak in the knees or insanely jealous. Unfortunately for me, it was the former rather than the latter. And when he smiled like that, no matter how bad the day had been, everything just felt better.
 
Chad's personality and demeanor were as good as his looks: he was approachable and you could easily start a conversation with him. Although he was quiet around someone new, once he got to know you, you weren't safe from his jokes. And while some people couldn't tell when he was joking, I always could. He squinted his eyes slightly and they seemed to sparkle when he was joking with someone. As my wife would say, "He has Irish eyes," meaning that his eyes smiled along with his mouth.
 
So, when I put it all together, the end result was always the same: no matter which way I looked at Chad, he was just downright good looking. I had to keep reminding myself to be careful around him, but the images and thoughts of what I'd like to do to him, and have him do to me, just kept assaulting me every time I saw him. Along with those thoughts, I was always catching myself wondering what he'd look like barefoot, with nothing on except a tight black t-shirt, a nicely-filled black jockstrap, and a sly "let's get naked" grin.
 
So how did I collect all these impressions about Chad? It was the only reason why I ever liked cube farms: when we moved into our new building, Chad's cube wasn't quite finished so I got to catch glimpses of him whenever I went anywhere else in the building. As with every good situation, however, they finally finished Chad's cube, so I didn't get to see as much of him as I would have liked to. Damn cube farms.
 
As time went on, Chad became more involved with the people around his cube. I heard that rich, baritone voice of his every now and then, and I liked knowing that he was becoming popular. Of course, with his good looks and affable demeanor, he couldn't help but be popular. Everyone loved Chad, and he genuinely seemed to like everyone else. He wasn't a stuck-up snot like some of the other good looking (and not so good looking) men and women I had to work with.
 
Over a number of months, I got to work with Chad on a few projects, unfortunately not on a regular basis, but enough that I could get a better look at him. During our project working sessions, I noticed his eyes were a medium to dark blue depending on what he wore. They made me nervous and jittery, and I had to work pretty hard to control my reactions. More times than I care to admit, I lost my ability to concentrate when working with Chad. I always hoped that I wouldn't embarrass myself around him, but I'm sure there were times when he thought my brain must have been scrambled or something close to that.
 
As part of a group from the office, we played some golf together. He was good, but when he got his slice under control he could easily shame a large number of people with his low scores. Unfortunately for me, I was never much competition. Although I tried to keep myself from doing so, I was also able to observe Chad's body during these games. He wasn't flabby or anything like that, but obviously he didn't work out and that made it easier on me. I didn't work out either and it showed. I had loved life and life had rewarded me with a spare tire around the middle. The image I saw in the mirror always made me wish that I had turned down that rich, chocolate milk shake or that extra slice of pizza.
 
I wish I could have thought of Chad in a different manner but I was hooked on him from day one. He was one of those very few people with good looks who was also smart, genuinely interested in other people, and had a good sense of humor. In short, he was the complete package. He was one of the very few guys who got put on my "short list." Being on my short list meant that, even though I was happily married, I'd jump into bed with him if he offered. Up to this point in my life, I had always thought of myself as straight, but with a few kinks, and Chad brought out that kinky side a little more each day. Unfortunately, Chad got married about six months later, so I sadly had to remove him from the list because I knew it could never happen. I guess my list was destined to have only the one actor and one actress that had been on it before he came along.
 
Life continued rocking along as happily as it always had. My brown hair was beginning to get a few white streaks around the temples, and my wife was ever so jealous. She had always said that men got more distinguished and better looking with age. To her credit, however, she wasn't aging at all. Into our early forties, her face had no wrinkles or lines and she kept herself in good shape, except for those few extra pounds she couldn't get rid of after having two kids. I loved her and the kids more than anyone else, including Chad, and we were set for the rest of our lives together. Unfortunately, I didn't know how short our time together really would be.
 
One relatively warm, sunny April evening I was driving home from work wondering why the traffic in our section of the suburbs had been so frustratingly congested. Driving up to my house, I noticed a state trooper's car parked in front. As I drove into the driveway, a couple of troopers got out of the car. To make a long story short, I found out from them that I was "suddenly single." A drunk dump truck driver had fallen asleep, run a red light at a major intersection nearby, and violently slammed the family mini-van into a group of telephone poles, compacting the van to almost nothing and breaking the telephone poles at the same time. Apparently none of them had suffered because of the force of the impact.
 
From that point forward, my emotions ran wild through hurt, pain, anger, despair, and, finally, loneliness. Life had become a disorienting mess. It was as if I had been transported to a part of the country I didn't know, where everything was covered in a constant fog. There was a little light but everything was still cold, damp, and not quite visible. And now I had to function without the lover, companion, and family that had been with me for the last fourteen years.
 
About a month after this ordeal began, Chad dropped by my cube, leaned in and said, "Sorry to hear about your family." I got a lump in my throat, tears in my eyes, and barely managed to croak out a "Thanks." Although I don't cry easily, that night I went home and cried the most that I had ever cried. When I realized it, not only was I finally grieving the major loss of my family, but I was also grieving the fact that I would never be able to get to know Chad better.
 
Over the next few months, I coasted through the lawsuits, work, and my life in general. The bright, long days of summer kept me from becoming too depressed, but by the time October rolled around, those days were getting shorter and a full-fledged depression began to set in. Also, the change off Daylight Saving Time was about to happen, and I knew that less sunlight would probably send me over the edge.
 
So I made major changes to my life. I sold the house because it had way too many memories and bought a top floor, three bedroom, two bath condo overlooking a really beautiful section of the Chesapeake Bay. I also visited my family doctor and asked about anti-depressants. He said that he would prescribe some, but on one condition: I had to start a daily regimen of exercise and join a health club.
 
Since I had always thought of health clubs, specifically the showers in health clubs, as "too public," I purchased an elliptical trainer and a weight machine and began to exercise at home. I still joined a health club that had a number of racquetball courts and began to relearn racquetball, but I only played there--I always showered at home. The health club is where I met Robert, an incredibly good-looking stud who was also one of the club's managers. Robert became a close friend and I enjoyed his company from time to time, but that's a different story.
 
On the exercise program, I lost inches around my middle and began to add some muscles in my chest and back, an area that I had not been proud of for most of my life. I also began to get better definition in my leg and arm muscles. I say "began" because at my age it took much longer and way more effort to get everything looking like I wanted it to look.
 
With the exercise and the anti-depressants, I got through the fall and winter months, especially those times around the holidays when you're with extended family who all too often like to remember what life was like before "the accident." I didn't make it through with flying colors, but I did make it through. I also got some unexpected help from Robert in that cold, snowy February around those days that would have been my wife's birthday. Now I only had to get through the first anniversary of the accident.
 
I found myself a year later, muddling through the April anniversary of "the accident" when I overhead someone in the next cube say that Chad was having problems in his marriage. Although I didn't hear the whole story, apparently his wife wanted to move away to California and he wanted to stay. Then about two weeks later, I heard through the grapevine that she had filed for divorce and moved to California without him. I felt really sorry for Chad and wondered why anyone would treat him so stupidly. A couple of weeks after that, when I finally saw him in his cube again, I stopped by, leaned in and said, "Sorry to hear about your marriage. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm available."
 
The look Chad gave me was something I had never seen from him before, his face scrunching up into a really pissed-off glare. It took me a couple of seconds, but when I figured it out, I realized that I had hit a really sore point and he was pretty pissed that I had mentioned it. While the look quickly softened and he said, "Thanks," based on his tone of voice, I knew he'd never take me up on it. After that short encounter, I realized that I still hadn't learned the lesson that sometimes it's just better to keep your mouth shut, even when you have the best of intentions.
 
After work on a Monday in early June, Chad and I happened to be walking out to the parking lot at the same time. I asked him how it was going, and he replied with the standard "Okay" and nothing else. As we continued to walk toward the parking lot in silence, all hopes of having any type of non-work conversation with him slowly disappeared. I was even thinking that maybe it's time to start looking for a new job, primarily because the current situation just wasn't working out like I had hoped.
 
But as I was about to say good-bye and turn to go to my car, Chad surprised me by asking if I had been going to a gym. He and a few other people had noticed how I had changed physically and he was interested in doing the same thing. He also said that he needed to find a place to relieve some of the tension and frustration he was having with the divorce proceedings.
 
After recovering (quickly I hoped) from my shock at his question and comments, I explained that I had my own exercise equipment but that I had also joined a health club that had good equipment and a lot of racquetball courts. He was disappointed that I had my own equipment but seemed interested in the club. When I suggested that he come to the club as my guest that coming Friday, he was tentative, but still accepted.
 
On Friday, I was excited about meeting Chad at the club. We had planned to meet at 9 pm, I'd show him around the place, and then he'd leave and I'd play my usual single-person game of racquetball from ten to eleven. I was genuinely interested in helping this guy find a place to relax through some exercise.
 
Chad was right on time, and we got through the club quickly. I showed him around the areas I knew (racquetball courts and weight rooms) and then pointed to the other areas that I didn't frequent (the locker room and showers). Once we had finished, we walked up to the front desk and I introduced him to Robert.
 
On hearing Chad's name, Robert looked over at me, flashed a quick grin, turned back to Chad. "Jim's mentioned you a couple of times. Glad to finally meet you."
 
They shook hands, and when Chad turned to look at me, I felt the heat of a blush roll onto my face. "Robert and I play racquetball against each other sometimes, and I was hoping that I could get you to play sometime as well," I added, hoping that this would cover what I had really said to Robert.
 
After Chad turned away, I shot a disapproving look back at Robert. Of course he ignored the look, but at least he changed the conversation to the features, benefits, and costs of a membership. After a minute, Robert looked at me and said with a grin, "You can go now. I'll take it from here."
 
With an even bigger grin and a chuckle, Chad added, "I'm a big boy, you can leave now . . . Dad."
 
I laughed out loud and knew that it was meant as a joke, but I was still somewhat hurt by the comment. Yes, I was a fair amount older than Chad, but I wasn't that old. As I walked away, Robert called out, "You have court 7 tonight." Ah, yes, Court 7 and all of its memories.
 
Monday morning couldn't come quickly enough. When it did, I stopped by Chad's cube to see what had happened after I left. With a somber look on his face, Chad told me that the entry and monthly fees were too much for him right now, but he'd keep it in mind later.
 
Of course I was disappointed, but an idea popped into my head. I asked him to come into a nearby conference room for a minute. He was wary for a moment, but hopefully I overcame his hesitance when I offered to pay the entrance fees and his first year on the condition that he play a racquetball game against me each week. He said he'd think about it, and that's all I could ask for.
 
The next day Chad was in his cube and I didn't bother him. I did happen to see him a couple of times in a nearby conference room having private phone conversations. Toward the end of the day, he came to my cube, plopped down in a chair, and quietly accepted my offer for a membership at the club. He also muttered something about needing to draw a face on a racquetball and hit it really hard, many, many times.
 
I grinned and when he saw me, he blushed and said that he really didn't mean it. I quietly and jokingly said, "Like hell you did." He grinned back at me and laughed, and the sparkle in his eye acknowledged that I got what he meant. We discussed meeting times and found out that Friday evenings were convenient for both of us, especially since neither of us had much else of a life at this point. So we agreed to meet at the club that coming Friday to work out all the details.
 
That Friday, we met, got him signed into the club, and played our first game against each other. Although Chad was younger, I was better and beat him easily. But little did I know that this wouldn't be the case for much longer. As a younger guy, he readily adapted to what little I really knew about the game, and he taught me some new moves as well.
 
As we went through the summer, I realized that Chad's body was slimming down in the waist and getting larger and better defined throughout his chest, arms, and upper back. Because he was wearing shorts, I also noticed that his leg muscles were getting larger and better defined, especially those large thigh muscles, both in front and back. His legs also looked hairier to me than before, but they had probably always been that hairy and I was just looking at them more closely now. As I found out later, he had been to the club almost five nights every week since early June, and his body showed it. Now in late August, I found that I couldn't play against him without getting some sort of "bedroom thoughts." The perfect face finally had the perfect body to go with it. All I could think of was what a moron his ex-wife must have been.
 
The first Friday in early September, I noticed Chad's game was off, actually it was more like he wasn't there at all. I won two games in about thirty minutes instead of the hour and a half, best 2-of-3 grudge matches that we usually played. On the way out to our cars that night, I asked if there was anything he wanted to talk about.
 
Chad quietly said, "The divorce was final today."
 
I quietly said to myself, 'Damn, now I understand,' then under the dim parking lot lights, I saw his eyes begin to glisten from the tears. I'm a social moron at times and this was one of those times--all I seemed to be able to say was, "Sorry, bud." He turned, put his hands on the top of his car, and leaned into them, his head down between his arms. It was then that I heard his quiet sobs.
 
Part of me told me not to do what I was thinking, but I couldn't help it because my own heart was breaking because of what he was being put through. After hearing a few more quiet sobs, I couldn't resist anymore. I put a hand on his shoulder, slowly turned him around to face me, and pulled him into a hug with his arms over my shoulders and my arms around his middle. Holding him gently, I said, "Let it go, bud. Let it go." I was kind of surprised when he relaxed and leaned into me and continued the quiet crying for a few more minutes.
 
During that time, a whole range of emotions flooded me. First there was anger that anyone would treat this great guy so shabbily. Then there was a sadness that he had to go through this. But the final emotion made me feel more guilty than I had in years. Because of the situation, I was glad that I had stood in such a way that only our upper bodies were touching. With the heat of his body against mine, the strength of the muscles in his back where I held him, and the touching that I had wanted to do for almost three years, my cock got the hardest it had been in some time. I suddenly felt so unworthy of our friendship. Here was a good friend who really needed a shoulder to cry on, but I had violated that friendship by getting a hard-on.
 
Luckily for me, Chad never knew about my problem. Had he discovered it, he probably would have decked me right there and never spoken to me again. And at that point in my life, I needed his friendship far more than he needed mine, so I kept all those feelings locked away deep inside myself.
 
After the crying subsided, Chad slowly pushed away from me. His eyes still glistened from the tears, but he looked more relaxed than he had in a while. Maybe holding him and letting him get it out of his system was what he needed. He looked at how wet he had gotten the shoulder of my t-shirt and apologized. My response was simply, "That's what friends are for."
 
I paused for a couple of seconds, then made a wild ass comment. "Now go home, take a good shower, have a beer, jack off to some porn on the Internet, and get a good night's sleep. You need it." He looked surprised at my comment, but I reached over and ruffled the hair on top of his head and added, "Go. Get out of my sight and have some fun for a change."
 
He stared at me for about another ten seconds as if he were going to ask a question, but then he told me goodnight, got in his car and drove away. After I watched his car turn the corner, I got into my car and pulled away. I was going to go home and do exactly what I had told him to do, but my porn tonight was going to have to be someone who looked as close to Chad as I could find.
 
During that early September, our friendship changed much for the better. I gave in to Chad's requests and began working out with him at the club on weeknights. He started joking around by playfully punching me in the shoulder, gently backhanding my stomach, and running into me in the racquetball court, seemingly more each time we got together. Because of the change, my jack off sessions in the shower at home afterwards got more intense. And sometimes I had to jack off a second time in bed a little later to reduce the intensity of the feelings that remained.
 
While being around Chad so much was like paradise, what hurt the rest of the time was the constant yoyoing of my emotions. I loved him, I really loved him, and that would make me feel like I was flying. Then I'd realize that I couldn't do that because he was straight, and my emotions would plummet to earth once again. But what scared me the most was that I almost told him how I felt on one of those nights.
 
Before I did anything stupid that would have damaged our friendship, my job forced me to go on travel for a couple of weeks. On the Friday night before I left, I cornered Robert away from everyone else in the place and said, "I'm going on travel for a couple of weeks. Will you keep Chad out of trouble, especially on the 'gay Friday' that's coming up in a couple of weeks?" Robert assured me he would, but he flashed that killer smile of his and I felt uneasy. "And would you please not fuck him before I get a chance?"
 
When he saw the seriousness in my face, he got serious as well. "I know what Chad means to you. I would never do anything to screw up your relationship."
 
Relieved, I added, "Thanks, bud. I owe you."
 
With that statement, Robert flashed his killer smile again, looked quickly down at my crotch and back up. "Paybacks are hell, you know."
 
I felt a tingling in my crotch and ass from that quick look, and decided to leave before it became too obvious how I'd have to pay him back.
 
Being away was difficult, but work kept me busy through all waking hours. We were deploying a new, multi-site, multi-million dollar software system and being the technical lead meant I had to be there for everything: the predeployment user meetings, the tiresome meetings with management to endlessly discuss risk management, the actual installation followed by immediate bug fixes, and the closing "training" (aka, gripe) sessions. And this had to happen at three locations, Washington, D.C., Dallas, and Sacramento, so I built up quite a bit of airline miles during those two weeks, too.
 
The trip turned out to be a tremendous success, and I came home on the first Sunday in October. I was relieved that everything had gone so well, but was exhausted from the 90 to 100 hour work weeks and weekends. Because I really wanted to see Chad the next day, I went to bed early. Soon I was in one of the deepest and most relaxed sleeps that I had been in for a while.
 
As I got to work early that Monday, most everyone had heard about our success and were congratulating me and the rest of the team. The rest of the morning went by quickly with people dropping by and the inevitable e-mail cleanup chore that I was faced with.
 
At lunch I went looking for Chad but couldn't find him anywhere. I asked one of the people in the cube next to him, and they said something about Chad being out of the office for a few days. They weren't really sure where or why he'd gone, because he'd left work abruptly the previous Thursday afternoon. They thought it might have been a family problem.
 
After hearing this, I felt kind of selfish. Maybe it was a family problem, maybe his ex-wife was causing problems again, but I kept getting this unexplainable feeling that he was avoiding me. I hoped that wasn't the situation, but of all the people in the office, his face was the one I needed to see and his voice was the one I needed to hear. He wasn't here and I felt really empty because of it.
 
On that Wednesday, someone told me that Chad was in the office, but I never heard him and couldn't find him. He appeared to be working in a number of locations both in the office and outside. And then it happened: on Friday afternoon I saw Chad in the parking lot, but instead of coming to see me, he got in his car and drove away. My suspicions about him avoiding me had just been confirmed.
 
I watched helplessly as his car turned the corner and he drove out of sight. I barely made it to my car before losing it, intense anger and that ever-present feeling of loss clouding all of my emotions. Luckily no one came out of the building during that time, so I didn't have to explain why I was shouting obscenities and crying even though I'd had a successful past few weeks. Without Chad in the picture, not much else really mattered.
 
As I walked into the gym later that night, Robert spotted me and saw the rotten mood etched all over my face. He looked at the schedule and said, "You have Court 7 tonight with me as your racquetball partner. Chad called and said he wouldn't be in tonight." When he looked up again, he saw the beginning of tears in my eyes. With a look of concern on his face, he nodded toward Court 7 and quietly added, "Go on in, I'll be there in a couple of minutes."
 
While I waited in Court 7 for Robert, my mind raced through thoughts about why Chad was acting the way he was. Chad and I really interacted only here at the club, so I had to find out what might have happened here.
 
When Robert arrived, I asked him to tell me what he had told Chad the previous week. He had told Chad about "gay Friday" (any Friday the 13th) where management turned a blind eye to the "No Sex in This Building" rules. He told Chad that good-looking guys were hit on heavily by other guys on those nights and that he might want to stay away.
 
But then Robert said that he had added to the conversation: he had told Chad that if he ever wanted to "experiment" with another guy, then Chad should let him know so that he could arrange it with someone they both knew. After Robert's last statement, I suddenly realized that I was the only person common to both of them. Neither had traveled in the other's social circle until they met at the club, so in one statement Robert had let Chad know that I was at least bisexual, if not gay.
 
I slowly began to boil from that revelation. "When did you tell Chad this?"
 
Robert slowly responded as he thought about the question. "It was during the day on . . . I believe it was Thursday afternoon of last week."
 
At that point I lost it and did something really stupid: acting on sheer anger, my 6'1" 205 pound, nicely-muscled older body pushed and pinned a 6'3" 235 pound, well-tuned, very muscular, younger body up against the wall. I was beyond pissed, and starting yelling at Robert about how he had outed me to Chad and had cost me a really close friendship. I yelled that Chad had been avoiding me all week and drove away when he saw me today. I yelled that I should somehow make him hurt for this, because I hurt so bad from it all. Warning signals went off in my brain when the look on Robert's face changed from shock and sadness to anger, but I continued to harangue Robert for what he'd done.
 
About five seconds later, I found myself being flipped around and my back slammed against the wall, all so quickly and forcefully that it took my breath away. While pinning my arms to the wall, Robert moved down within about two inches of my face and hissed, "Okay, so I fucked up. I'm sorry. I thought I'd try to move things along between you two, especially seeing how close you've become in the last month. Maybe I shouldn't have, but don't threaten to hurt me because you don't have a clue about what I've been going through watching you two these last couple of months. You don't see me anymore. You don't have time to be with me anymore. I cover up what I feel because I know you're probably the happiest you've ever been." Robert's voice then got a raspiness to it, and I could hear his emotional pain as he spoke. "So don't tell me that I should be hurt because of this. I'm already hurting."
 
After a few seconds of trying to understand what he had said and meant, my face and eyes must have told him that I was sorry because he loosened his death grip on my arms. "Sorry, bud. I never knew. I thought we got together only for the sex."
 
Robert let go of me, turned away, and rubbed his eyes with his hands. After a couple of deep breaths, he responded quietly, "It was only the sex until I saw how happy you and Chad were all of last month. Then thinking back to how well we fit together in July made me finally realize that I want so much more than just sex."
 
I stood there stunned. This was a side of Robert that I'd never seen before and never expected to see. Before now, he'd always been the perpetual bachelor playboy, never getting "trapped in a relationship" as he called it. But for the first time ever, I was seeing a different side, potentially one that was going to make someone very happy.
 
After a few moments, I walked up behind him and scratched his back for a while. At this point in our relationship, I knew him well enough to know that it was one of the most calming influences on his psyche. After about a minute, I wrapped my arms around him. "If it doesn't work out with Chad, I'd like to see where our relationship might go. But all the women here will be really disappointed."
 
"Fuck 'em."
 
I responded in a joking manner, "Hmmmm, haven't you already done that?"
 
I paused waiting for the chuckles which came through a short time later. Robert then broke away from me, turned around and laughingly said, "Damn you! You always make it so difficult to stay angry."
 
After a longer pause, he looked straight into my eyes and continued in a calmer, more serious tone. "But I have to say one more thing, even though I don't really want to. You have to give Chad some space and time. He'll come around. I know because I found out quickly that he and I are similar, and we're the types who always come back to you because you're always there. We can depend on that no matter what else happens. I hate to use a line from a movie but it fits: no matter how hard we try, we're never able to find a way to get over you."
 
I was stunned once again by what I had just heard, and I'm sure my face showed it, too. When I was finally able to answer, I said quietly, "I'm not sure I know what to say."
 
Robert looked away. "You don't have to say anything. It'll all work out somehow." After another few moments, he took a deep breath and let it out, then looked at me. "So, are we going to play this game or what?"
 
After about an hour of playing a single game, we had to stop at a 28-28 tie. The ball had remained in play for 15 to 20 hits per serve, and each of us had run the other ragged. Usually Robert won, but his game was a little off that night. Before we left the court, I asked, "Are we good?"
 
Robert looked at me and smiled that huge grin of his. "Yeah, we're good."
 
I put my hand in the middle of his chest. "If it doesn't work out with Chad by Christmas, we really will have to see where our relationship goes."
 
Robert looked me straight in the eyes and said seriously, "Count on it." Then with something of a smirk, he looked up and down my body a couple of times and added, "You under my Christmas tree, naked and tied up with bows. . . ."
 
Over the next couple of weeks, I kept busy and away from Chad. It pained me to do so, but it seemed that he didn't want to have anything to do with me. I heard his voice in the area every now and then, but I never made any effort to go see him. Unfortunately, he never came to see me either, and that further saddened me.
 
Luckily, I was away again on travel some of that time, so the pain was diverted to work. The customer already wanted changes to the system we had just installed and I was required to accompany those changes. The long weeks and weekends were beginning to drive me a little crazy, especially with no exercise and no other release for that matter. I was so tired and wrung-out from work that there never was enough time or energy for anything else.
 
Finally during the first week of November, I was able to slack off and work a "normal" 40-hour week. On Wednesday afternoon I got a peculiar voice mail from Robert who said he had someone he wanted me to meet. When I called him back later that night, he gave me the details. The guy was a virgin and needed someone gentle to break him in. I laughed as Robert gave the details, and then asked him why he didn't do it. Robert said that this guy was a good friend and he'd never be able to face him again if he did.
 
I hesitated, but Robert pushed. I hesitated again and said that I wanted to wait and see if things would change with Chad, but Robert persisted. After a month of not hearing anything from Chad, I finally relented but only because Robert had asked me to. I asked Robert if the guy had seen a doctor, and he said that he was looking at an all-negative test sheet. Then I asked about the guy's looks. Robert laughingly said, "He's good looking, but not as good looking as me." Robert then quickly added, "You need to prep yourself on Friday, so leave work early. Also, take a nap that afternoon. You'll need it to keep up with this guy. I'll make sure he knows how to get prepped, too. He'll be there about 9 pm, but if he doesn't show by 9:30, come to the club and we'll plan to get together as soon as I can leave." Soon thereafter, we said goodbye to each other and hung up the phone. After a minute or two of thinking about our conversation, I began to wonder what I was about to get myself into.
 
Copyright © 2013 GWood; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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On 05/17/2013 01:32 AM, joann414 said:
Have to say that I am hooked on your fantasy. This is a great story. I feel like I know who the virgin is though :P Waiting on next chapter already! :read::great:
Yeah, the start is somewhat predictable, huh? Hopefully you won't find the whole story that way. Let me know if you find any unexpected twists or surprises in it. That'll let me know how well I've written it. :-)
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