GWM - 3. Chapter 3 of 18

Gordon

Gordon arrived at Harry’s apartment carrying an overnight bag.
“What’s that for?” Harry asked.
“A few things... My nightshirt...”
“You’re staying?”
They hadn’t exactly met.
“May I come in?” Gordon asked. He was still standing in the hall.
Talking on the phone, Harry knew he wanted to meet the man: Gordon seemed charming and bright. Seeing him, Harry was definitely interested. But he’d never meant to sleep with anyone that night.
“May I come in?” Gordon asked again.
“Sure,” Harry said, trying not to seem reluctant. He hated being second-guessed – this was Nick all over again.
Not that Gordon was funny-looking. He looked fine. Clean-shaven. A good height. Well- dressed. It was mainly that they didn’t know each other.
Their phone conversation had ended when Gordon abruptly announced, “This is stupid. I live just down the block. Let’s get together.”
“Down the block” was three-and-a-half miles, which even Harry could allow. Getting together was trickier. The factory town where Harry lived was stubbornly becoming suburban. But two noisy bars and a family restaurant were the only places to eat. None of them seemed right.
Harry favored small, quiet restaurants, but the nearest was a twenty-minute drive, in Northampton. At ten, even on a Friday night, he didn’t feel like making the trip. Still, he wouldn’t go to Gordon’s house -- which had been offered. So he invited the guy over.
“What did you think we’d do?” he now asked Gordon. The man was sitting across from him, the overnight bag heavy on the coffee table between them.
“I didn’t think anything,” Gordon said. “But every time I haven’t brought this” -- he patted the bag -- “I’ve been sorry.”
“You often sleep with guys you’ve just met?”
Gordon smiled, maybe trying for elegance. Harry wouldn’t let that be an answer.
“Enough to know I shouldn’t,” Gordon admitted.
Harry laughed, though part of him knew better.
Not the part that wanted to pull the V-neck of Gordon’s light sweater down -- to see how far the dark hair extended. And not the part that quickly spotted the bulge in Gordon’s tight jeans. Definitely not the part that could picture Gordon bent naked, over his damned overnight bag.
Harry had been attracted this way before, and he knew Gordon had already stripped him at the door. That was clear from the man’s grin. While that was flattering, it gave Harry nowhere to go.
Trapped, Harry struggled to remember their polite phone conversation.
“You were married,” he began.
“Don’t remind me,” Gordon groaned. Though he was smiling.
“That long?”
“Seventeen years.”
“You still see her?”
Gordon laughed. “You can’t mean ‘sleep with her.’ That was never our strength.”
“But you’re still friends? I can’t imagine being married to someone for that long, then just breaking off.”
“ That’s because you’ve never been married, have you?” Gordon laughed again. “It’s easy being sentimental about other people’s lives.”
Which made Harry laugh.
“Though it’s hard to remember,” Gordon went on. “I don’t often think of Ilene.”
“There must’ve been some attraction...”
Gordon shrugged. “Our getting married was convenient... We knew each other... We spent a lot of time surrounded by friends... We started going out... We went to movies at first. Concerts. Before we knew it, people thought of us as a couple.”
“More reason you’d still see her.”
“No... marriage changed that.”
“How?”
“You ask a lot of questions. You know that?”
Harry smiled. “I’ve got to learn somehow...”
“Well, stop it.”
But Gordon was joking, and Harry waited for him to go on.
“We had four good years, Gordon allowed. “Four ‘acceptable’ years before we got married. Then seventeen years of forced amiability.” He paused, as if to clear his throat. “If we hadn’t gotten married, we might still be friends. Now, though Ilene lives less than a mile from me, we hardly speak. Except on business.”
“You never miss her?”
“Never.”
Harry couldn’t believe this. “What broke you up?” he asked.
Gordon smiled. Almost teasingly, he cooed, “I wanted to sleep with boys.”
Harry wouldn’t be goaded.
“Not real boys,” Gordon quickly explained. “I only call them that. You’re very literal, you know that?”
“It’s been said.”
“Though you have a sense of humor...”
Gordon grinned. Though seemingly less at Harry than at something he just thought. “You’ll appreciate this,” he went on. “When I finally told Ilene I was gay... When I finally told her why we had to end our unfortunate marriage... She simply looked at me for the longest time. We were sitting in the dining room, finishing coffee. She stared at me with the pain of seventeen years growing in her eyes, then quietly sighed, ‘Oh, Gordon, you’d say anything to annoy me.’”
Harry laughed. He couldn’t help himself. Gordon laughed as well. He clearly enjoyed telling the story.
“She didn’t believe you?” Harry asked.
“You’re just supposed to laugh.”
“It’s too sad...”
Gordon shook his head.
“You’d like Ilene. I should introduce you.”
Harry smiled. “I’m not saying it’s not funny... I just didn’t expect it...”
“Either did Ilene. We’d lived separate lives for so long, she never thought I was sleeping around.”
“Long?”
Gordon shrugged. “A couple years... Though I wouldn’t call it ‘sleeping...’ More like hooking up in men’s rooms. Sucking guys off. All the time worrying I’d be caught... my life destroyed.” He suddenly grinned. “Still, even if my life had been ruined, at that moment it seemed less important than sucking some guy’s dick.”
He laughed again, reminding Harry how attractive irony seemed.
“Besides,” Gordon added, “ruining your life is abstract.”
Harry had to think about that. Then he went on: “Maybe for you.”
But Gordon didn’t want to play. “What do you want?” he suddenly asked,
Harry didn’t hesitate: “A partner.”
“I’m here.”.
“Not just in bed... I’m looking for more than that... I want to get married.”
“Then sign me up.”
Harry knew that Gordon was only partly goofing, and he needed to clear that up. “I’m serious,” he went on. “I need to know someone first... Know someone well...”
“More than twenty minutes?”
Harry sighed. He stared at Gordon uncomfortably.
“You won’t make me leave?” Gordon finally said.
“No...”
“‘Not yet,’” Gordon interpreted.
To prove otherwise, Harry offered him a drink.
Gordon stood. “No... If you’re making me go soon... I’ll go now.”
“I’m not kicking you out,” Harry insisted. He suddenly didn’t want to be rejected. “I’d like to get to know you better.”
“What is there to know?” Gordon grumped. “What would seeing me two or three times... knowing my taste in art... or food... or music... really change? You either like me... and you won’t admit it. Or you don’t like me... and you’re being kind.”
Harry was cornered again, and he hated it. “I may like you,” he stubbornly admitted. “I may be getting to like you less.”
He tried an elegant smile of his own. But Gordon only laughed, and Harry realized the smile had made him more attractive.
“Damn.”
Gordon laughed again, which made Harry want to push him out the window. Though in one undeniable way...
It was all too new, Harry realized. He still didn’t know if -- with guys -- being lovers came before being friends.
While Harry was working this out, Gordon studied him. Then he rose, pulled Harry to his feet, and ferociously kissed him.
Harry pushed away.
“You’re sending me home,” Gordon announced. “I ain’t going without a kiss.”
“I’m not sending you anywhere...” Harry insisted.
Gordon stared. “Even you don’t believe that.”
Harry said nothing.
“If this were a movie,” Gordon joked, “we’d already be on the floor.”
“If you think life’s a movie,” Harry joked back, “you’re weirder than I thought.”
Gordon moved to kiss him again.
“You’ll choke me,” Harry protested.
“Great way to die.”
“If you didn’t seem so desperate, you wouldn’t be.”
“Now you’re a fortune cookie.”
“Stop it... or you’re out of here.”
“I’m already gone.”
“No...”
“I can stay?”
Harry wanted to be alone. With no chance of ever meeting Gordon again. And he wanted to see the man naked.
He knew what to do.
What to say.
But he was weak.
“You need a shower,” Harry practically mumbled. So soft it could be denied.
Gordon grinned. Ear-to-fucking-ear. Then he said, “I showered before I left.”
“I need a shower,” Harry admitted.
“You smell great.”
“I need to relax.”
Gordon laughed. “Terrific. Water’s erotic as hell.”
Harry didn’t even want to think about that. He didn’t want to talk. In the silence, Gordon started for Harry’s belt.
Harry instinctively grabbed Gordon’s hands. “If we’re going to do this...” he said. “If we are doing this...” he corrected. “Please... At my speed...”
“At your command.” Gordon bowed.
Harry wanted the guy gone. Which Gordon must have sensed. Knowing he’d won, he let himself be led.
Harry slowly slipped off Gordon’s sweater.
“You like control,” Gordon whispered.
Harry tenderly removed Gordon’s shoes and socks.
“If you don’t speed up,” Gordon cracked, “I’m gonna soak my pants.”
Harry slowly unzipped Gordon’s jeans. Then let them slide to the floor. Gordon yanked down his shorts.
“Free!”
Harry eased them back up.
“You’re cruel,” Gordon accused.
“‘Slowly...’” Harry whispered.
“I’m dying here.”
Harry erotically rolled down the waistband of Gordon’s shorts. Maybe a half-inch at a time. Again. And again.
“If I didn’t love this so much,” Gordon moaned, “I’d break your neck.”
Harry wouldn’t react. Gordon quickly grabbed both of Harry’s nipples and yanked.
“Stop it!” Harry yelped.
But by the time he freed himself, Gordon was naked.
“I like this,” Gordon decided. “You, dressed. Me, absolutely bare.”
Harry grumbled something Gordon couldn’t hear. But it was mainly a joke.
Gordon kissed him again, nearly breaking teeth. Harry simply led Gordon to the shower.
“Can’t I strip you first?” Gordon asked.
“You’d rip my shirt.”
“I promise I’ll...”
The rest was lost in gurgles as Harry pushed Gordon’s head into the water. With Gordon distracted, Harry quickly undressed. Though when he stepped into the tub, Gordon immediately dropped to his knees.
Harry pulled him upward. The third time, Gordon stayed.
“You will let me?” Gordon begged.
Harry was silent.
“You have such a great cock.”
Harry said nothing.
“It’s so b-i-g!”
Harry was 6'-2". His body was evenly proportioned. “It goes with the territory,” he wanted to say. Instead, Gordon humped his leg.
“I’ll soap your eyes,” Harry joked.
“Blind me,” Gordon whimpered.
As compromise, they slowly lathered each other. Gordon’s hands were soft, but strong, like his arms. “How much do you work out?” Harry asked.
“I don’t. I play tennis.”
“I never have.”
“You’re probably too slow.”
Harry laughed, but Gordon didn’t hear – he was too busy everywhere else. He prodded Harry ass. Tweaked his nipples again. When Harry jerked in reflex, Gordon grabbed them tighter, which nearly made Harry shoot.
“You’ve got to let go,” he said.
Gordon did, and they rinsed each other. “You’re not even hard,” the man marveled.
Nerves, Harry knew. Though he was feeling hard clear though.
“You must be straight,” Gordon said, laughing.
They dried each other. Gordon kissed Harry again, practically tumbling him back into the tub. Finally, Harry got Gordon to bed.
But before he lay down, Harry lit a candle. He found a Schubert CD. Killed the other lights.
“Where’s Martha Stewart?” Gordon joked.
Harry ignored him. He liked candles and music.
He also liked holding Gordon. Slowly stroking his chest. Rumpling Gordon’s hair. The man was built like a tennis pro -- thin, but muscled. The dark hair Harry had seen near Gordon’s throat went all the way down his body. But it wasn’t too heavy.
Whenever possible, Gordon tried to suck Harry’s cock.
“Why?” Harry asked.
“Why are we here?”
Harry kissed Gordon slowly. Letting the tip of his tongue gently play over Gordon’s teeth Wetting Gordon’s lips with his own.
“Come in my mouth,” Gordon whispered.
Harry ignored the request.
“There’s no risk,” Gordon insisted. “You’ve never been with other guys...”
“Is that my attraction?” Harry murmured.
Gordon seemed hurt. “You’re such a good-looking man....”
Harry let that go, too. “I’ll never come in anyone’s mouth,” he whispered.
“Then fuck me.”
Harry sighed.
“You’ll never fuck anyone, will you?” Gordon said. “You’ll die old... And strong... But what a waste.”
Harry didn’t want to fight. It was easier not to. He simply found a rubber and gently did what the man asked.
Then Gordon was sucking him again. Harry eased to where he lay under Gordon, their bodies moving together. Harry loved the delicate teasing, the way their chests seemed to join. It could go on forever.
But Gordon couldn’t wait. Grabbing Harry’s cock, he rudely brought him off. Then he wouldn’t let go. Quickly straddling him, Gordon rubbed his dick in Harry’s come.
“Stop it,” Harry said.
“You love it.”
“Is this what you always do?”
“When they let me.”
“I love being ‘they.’”
“Let me.”
Gordon’s lapped at Harry’s come as if it were milk.
Harry wanted to yowl. Instead, he quietly asked, “Is there a list of things you’re not supposed to do? That you’re practicing on me?”
“You’re wonnderrfulll!” Gordon oozed.
“Maybe...”
“What do you want?” Gordon asked, suddenly sounding annoyed.
“To relax,” Harry blurted. He didn’t even think. “Without feeling... every time I do... that you won’t shove something I don’t want... someplace I don’t want it.”
Gordon retreated. He lay sullenly back. Arms crossed on his chest.
“Why is everything sexual with you?” Harry asked. He hadn’t meant to get Gordon angry. “I like you,” he went on. “You’re funny... even when I won’t admit it. Just don’t push so hard.”
Gordon continued to sulk. Harry tenderly kissed him. He slowly uncrossed Gordon’s arms.
Nothing.
He ran his tongue down Gordon’s chest.
Nothing.
He sucked Gordon’s cock.
Gordon was soon making happy noises Harry couldn’t describe.
“You’re fine when you don’t think,” Gordon whispered.
Harry tried.
They both did. And -- for a while -- they succeeded. But when Harry tried to make Gordon come, he couldn’t.
“Faster,” Gordon coached.
Harry was gently working Gordon’s ass He sped up.
“Faster,” Gordon repeated.
Harry pushed.
“Faster!”
“I can’t,” Harry finally admitted. His thighs were beginning to cramp.
Gordon shoved him away. As Harry watched, Gordon violently crushed his own balls, stroking himself fiercely with his other fist. His hand was going so fast that Harry’s eyes couldn’t follow. “He’s going to ruin himself,” Harry thought at one point.
Gordon twisted. Grimaced. Jerked. At the last moment, he flipped Harry on his stomach, and -- writhing like a frog -- erupted on Harry’s back.
Harry just lay there. Stunned. Feeling used. He thought he’d shared something way too private.
But Gordon just laughed. He didn’t even need time to recover.
He rolled Harry on his side. Kissed Harry. Nursed at his soft dick. Finally, he said, “I could do that again.”
Harry wasn’t even surprised.
“You?” Gordon asked.
Stupidly, Harry admitted he could. He was aroused again and had quickly forgotten the embarrassment.
Gordon kissed Harry’s again. Almost laughing, he said, “You’re cute.”
Untrue by thirty years, Harry thought. But instead of pointing that out, he agreed.
“Has it really been just one guy?” Gordon asked
“I’ve already told you that.”
“And you’ve slept with women?”
“Some.”
“I’ve only been with Ilene.”
“Well, you’ve probably had more sex... over the years...”
Gordon seemed to consider that. “I always felt I was doing something wrong with her,” he finally admitted. “She never seemed to be having fun...”
What Harry thought and what he said were very different. “I’m sure you were fine,” he assured Gordon.
The man was lying beside Harry now, his head propped on one hand. The other hand roamed Harry happily.
“She hasn’t remarried,” Gordon went on. “Our daughters say she won’t even discuss it.”
Gordon hadn’t mentioned daughters.
And Gordon suddenly smiled, as if knowing he’d let something slip.
“You don’t think we’d be married all those years,” he said. “Without producing something?”
He said it lightly, as if hoping it didn’t matter.
“How many daughters?” Harry asked.
Gordon hesitated.
“Three.”
“Who do they live with?”
Gordon paused.
“They’re grown.”
Harry looked at Gordon. “I thought you said ‘seventeen years.’” Something wasn’t adding up.
Gordon was silent. He looked away from Harry. “Actually, it was twenty-seven... I left off ten for bad behavior.”
Harry wasn’t upset. He was more surprised. “How old are you?” he asked.
The answer came slowly. “Fifty-one.
Harry studied him. “You look pretty good.”
For a moment, Gordon said nothing. He just looked at Harry. “I’m sorry... I just get so...”
Harry was afraid the next word would be “lonely,” and he didn’t want to hear it. Instead, he kissed Gordon.
“It’s fine,” he said. “It doesn’t matter.”
“You’re sure?” Gordon asked.
“Yes.” And they lay quietly. Harry studied Gordon’s handsome face. Gordon gently stroked Harry’s balls.
“Why did you ask how many guys I’d been with,” Harry eventually asked.
“No reason... You just seem so sure of what you want.”
Harry laughed. Then he had to explain. “Once,” he began, “on a road out near Lenox -- a back road -- late one night, my car broke down. I waited for a while, hood up, lights flashing. But no one stopped. Finally, I started walking. Thumbing. Trying to hitch a ride into town. Cars passed. The more they did, the faster I walked, getting just a little angry. Eventually, a couple of kids picked me up.”
“What’s funny about that?”
“Nothing. It’s what they said. They were probably in high school. I was just out of college. When I told them how many cars had passed, the girl smiled and said, ‘We almost passed you, too. You looked so self-contained.’”
Gordon laughed. “Poor Harry.”
Harry smiled.
They kissed. Gently. Gordon lay on top of Harry.
“What do you really want?” Harry asked.
Gordon grinned.
“More than right now.”
Gordon hesitated. “The same as you do... a partner. They never seem to last. One did... Almost a year... Gone to Texas now. They’re mostly grad. students from Smith or UMass. Them what’ll have me.”
He went to suck again. So sweetly that Harry’s cock failed him, getting oak hard. “So thick!” Gordon praised.
Harry lay back. He knew he couldn’t come again, so Gordon’s sucking was harmless. And the man knew what he was doing. For maybe an hour, he gave Harry a lovely ride.
And when Harry did come -- from somewhere so far inside, his balls seemed to ache -- he tried to ease from Gordon’s mouth.
But Gordon swallowed everything Harry gave. “You’re safe,” he insisted, and Harry was too happy to fight.
They slept together, Gordon holding Harry till morning. “I love being with you,” Gordon said, “Wrapping around your body.” Then, before Harry had words, Gordon mounted him.
Harry hesitated. It was something he’d never wanted. But he had to respond. And Gordon was careful. He patiently opened Harry and thoughtfully reached for a rubber.
Gordon pampered Harry. Soothed him. And when Harry came, it was a flow. Then he was aware that, somewhere above him, Gordon was again coming in agony.
I can’t do this, Harry realized. Though, afterward, he held Gordon. When they showered, Gordon was a baby. Toying with the soap. Making jokes. “You have weekend plans?” he asked
“This weekend?” Harry said.
Gordon nodded.
“I have to work.”
“All weekend?” Gordon went on.
“I’m told I’m kind of a workaholic....”
“Are you lying?”
Harry smiled. “Have I ever done that?”
“No,” Gordon soon admitted. “You find truth too important.”
Harry laughed. They rinsed themselves together, then dressed. Over breakfast, Gordon said, “You don’t want to see me again.”
Harry asked, “What ever gave you that idea?”
“I like you.”
“And I like you.”
“Then let’s see what happens?” Gordon suggested
But he was just too hopeful, and Harry had to correct that.
“Why?” Gordon simply asked.
How could Harry explain? He had the image of Gordon’s face as he came. He wondered if Gordon had ever seen the pain.
“I’m just not ready,” Harry said. It’s what Nick had accused him of, and it was still true. But it hurt Gordon.
“What would change your mind?”he asked.
Harry didn’t know.
“I always have to let go,” Gordon went on. “I try so hard not to get attached... And I still have to let go.”
Harry wanted to hold the man. He wanted to hold him all weekend. Lying naked in bed.
“I really want to be married,” he finally said. “Like you were. Twenty-seven years. Longer.”
Gordon thought about this. “You’re starting late...”
“But I know what I want,’ Harry pointed out. “And I’m patient.”
Gordon seemed to understand. Reaching across the table, he joked, “Well, don’t forget me...”
Harry laughed, suddenly relenting. “I’m not going to. I’m not even going to let you out of my sight this weekend. Work can wait. Forget what I said.”
They stripped before Harry could change his mind again. And they spent most of the weekend without clothes. Near midnight, Sunday, Gordon left smiling.
Standing on his front balcony, Harry watched the man swing his never-opened overnight bag into his car. Now what kind of nightshirt could the guy possibly wear?