Under the Guise - 3. Bi the Way...

Apologies for the hiatus, folks. If you've been hoping this story would have a conclusion, you're in luck! I'm almost done and I hope you enjoy

Frisbees flew past our heads as we wandered through the emerald green Lyon Field. Our school’s soccer field was taken over by booths with signs made of construction paper, paint, and glitter, propped up and held high by our several clubs and organizations. Royal purple and gold flourished around worn on our shirts and shorts, painted on our faces, dyed in our hair. Classmates got intricate henna tattoos done by the Muslim Student Alliance, took pictures in the photo booths provided by the Student Activities club, tie-dyed their shirts with the Art club. The air was fresh with a low breeze that passed through, complemented by the sun’s warm and delicate glow.

“Watch it!,” I heard PJ yell beside me, wiping away at his face.

“...Oops.” Loren blew bubbles that looked like tiny balls of rainbows when reflected off the light of the sun, drawn out from a small, turquoise container. The wind played its part, having them dance through the air and smack into PJ’s face.

I sighed. “Can I take you two anywhere?”

They wouldn’t hold my attention for long. I would hear screams and laughter coming from across the field. A group of frat boys and sorority girls poured out into the field, blasting water guns and launching water balloons, hopping along the bleachers. Screams of terror and thrill rang in the air.

“Check that out,” I pointed toward them. “Giving the freshman a nice, warm welcome.”

Unsuspecting freshman escaped in a frenzy as the shooting water blasted their backs. The frat boys and sorority girls laughed in triumph while us older students expressed a mix of pity and amusement. When either one got too soaked, you’d see the sorority gals and frat boys remove their shirts like it was an episode of Baywatch, water beads glistening and spraying off their bare torsos. One frat boy in particular had a tattoo of wings on his back that flapped as he flexed his arms. I couldn’t help staring... The student council booth would intervene, imploring them to keep their distance from the booths.

“Waaay ahead of you buddy,” PJ said, scanning the scene like he had a pair of binoculars. “Check out the one with the yellow bikini top.”

One of the sorority girls had jet black hair that came down like waterfalls on her back. I assumed she was the one PJ was referring to. She removed her black-rimmed glasses once they became too much of a nuisance to wear, showing off her azure blue eyes.

“She’s got a nerdy, Megan Fox look going for her,” said Loren. “I wonder if she’s single...”

PJ turned swiftly to Loren, outrage on his face. “Hey, I saw her first!”

Our walk would take us to a booth with a large rainbow flag plastered on the front, the wide known symbol for the LGBTQA alliance flapping lazily in the wind. Students received tags to write down their preferred pronouns, and mini flags to show off their pride.

“Hey you three!” greeted a flamboyant guy with a high top fade. “Wanna come grab a flag and name tag for your pronouns?”

His honey-brown skin complemented his bubblegum colored tank and jean blue short shorts. He fit perfectly with his motley crew of other very gay students, one wearing all black with black lipstick and wild orange hair that resembled the color of poppies. Another was a twink with Justin Bieber-like wavy hair and big, dark brown eyes like a newborn baby’s. Loren beelined for the mini pink, lavender, and blue flags. PJ asked if they had a “straight” name tag, to Mr. High Top Fade’s disappointment and Gothic Girl’s most obvious eye roll. Faux Justin Bieber was giving me a coy smile as he stood in the background.

“We have ally name tags,” said Goth Girl.

PJ nodded, seeming pleased. “Works for me! Just call me your honorary gay.” Goth Girl smirked at the comment. High Top Fade was not amused.

“You should come to an LGBTQA Alliance meeting when you get the chance,” said Faux Justin Beiber, his voice barely audible over the screams and laughs in the background. The frats and sororities had soaked the president and secretary of the student council without mercy, then attempted to flee the scene. Remnants of broken water balloons littered the field. Students started slipping on the muddy ground.

Faux Justin Beiber cleared his throat. “In a few weeks, we’re going to be having a social. You all are welcome to come.”

He may have been addressing us all, but his eyes kept coming back to me.

“We might check it out,” I said. “Thanks for the invite.”

He seemed pleased by the answer. As we walked away, Loren nudged me in the arm.

“That cutie was totally checking you out,” she said. “Gonna try to talk to him at the social?”

Before I could say anything, I remembered that Loren and PJ didn’t know I was still seeing Lex. It was awkward enough having to talk to these two about being involved in an affair. How am I supposed to tell them I was still seeing him? It wasn’t right privatizing my sex life like it was something I had to keep hidden, shoving myself back in the closet again.

Then Lex’s situation came to mind. How did he do it, keeping secrets, hiding his own sexuality identity for so long? And on top of that, being married? I humbled myself: It was a position I’d never want to be put in.

I said, “We’ll see. I don’t know, he’s not really my type.”

“Yeah?” PJ said, chewing on a sugar cookie he got from the last booth. “Maybe he’s not old enough for you. I mean, look at that last dude you were with. What was he, going on 50?”

I cut my eyes at PJ. “He’s in his late 30s... And who cares how old he is! Guys my...err, our age... are just immature. I can’t help it that I’m more interested in commitment instead of sleeping with everyone around me.”

“...And yet, the guy you chose was already committed before you could commit to him!”

Loren shook her head. It was ironic; if I was so damn pressed about having something real with one guy, what was I doing with Lex?

When PJ separated from us to meet with his study group, Loren and I went our own way through a trail back to the dorms. Fall was approaching as the leaves shifted from various hues of green, burgundy, cherry, apricot, and honey. They fell around us, covering the shrubs and dirt path. We sat on a random stump, watching them fall gracefully to Earth.

“Can I ask you something,” I said.

“What’s up?” Loren was messing with a fallen leaf, holding it by its stem and analyzing its veins.

“Could you see yourself choosing one man or woman to spend your entire life with?”

Loren’s eyebrow arched in curiosity. “Sure, yeah. Isn’t that the goal?”

I knew I was being vague, so I attempted to be direct. “Don’t you worry about that sometimes, being bi and choosing your life partner? Wouldn’t that mean ‘giving up’ being with the other sex? How does being in a closed relationship work for someone who can fall in love with either sex? Would you be fine choosing one?”

Loren took some time to answer, still checking out the leaf. She was visibly frowning.

“I guess that’s a thought, but that’d be silly wouldn’t it?” She looked straight at me, expecting me to understand. She sighed, dangling the leaf now. “Just because your bi doesn’t mean you can’t be in a monogamous relationship. It definitely doesn't mean you wouldn’t choose to be in one. If I love someone and want to spend my life with them, why would I be out looking for the next best thing? You’re gay; PJ’s straight. If you both find who you’re looking for, it isn’t like you both will be suddenly unaware of the other men or women around you, right? Being bi is the same way, you have to know what you want.”

I fell silent. Loren was frustrated, and I couldn’t tell if it was towards me or the topic in general. She stopped playing with the leaf, letting it go free from her hand as the breeze gently blew it away. We walked with each other to campus in silence.

__________________

The conversation Loren and I had rattled my brain. I met with Lex that Sunday, of all days, and I asked where his wife was? He suggested she went out to have dinner with her parents, and nothing more was said about it. It seemed like a good segue to discuss if the two had kids, but I feared what answer he might’ve given me. I was already guilty of this sin, and I wasn’t looking to feel worse.

“Wanna try something new?” he asked.

I was shrouded in all-encompassing darkness, chilly from the lack of heat that has spread goosebumps from my shoulders down to my thighs. My clothes were stripped from me. I heard slow footsteps sink into the carpet, and I knew it was him returning to the room. I made a failed attempt to turn my head to see, as though that would help. One of his ties covered my eyes, sharpening my hearing. I could smell the scent from his tie trickle into my nose.

My arms were tied behind me on a wooden chair. I tried moving my legs, but my ankles were fastened tight on the chair’s legs. My bottom was finally warming up after sitting there for what seemed like hours, not hearing a soul around me.

I tried making light convo when he was present, ease the tension a bit. But Lex wouldn’t reciprocate, not even once. I would occasionally hear clinks on glass which I assumed to be his table. There were soft thumps to the floor. Then he would exit the room, returning whenever.

For his most previous return, he remained with me longer than usual. I heard a clap, shocking my system. I bet he was smirking at me for jumping at the unexpected noise. Fingers began caressing my chin, warm to the touch. They touched my cheeks, grazed my ears and hair. I leaned into the comfort they offered me.

“That’s it,” he said lowly. I could tell he was enjoying this.

A strong scent of cranberry flowed in the air. A fierce warmth moved steadily towards my face. A candle maybe. I heard the clink again, then a scrape on a glass surface. Two hands fondled my chest, then pinched my nipples. He pinched harder, twisting them. I groaned. He released one, but still held tight to my right. An even stronger pinch replaced his fingers, more intense than the last. It seemed to be a clamp. I’d feel his teeth gnaw on my left pec, his breath hot against me. And when that familiar pinching sensation returned, I knew he added on another clamp. I quickly sucked in my breath.

“You’re alright?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I said in a breathy tone, slowly integrating the sensation to my being. “I could take more.”

Something was moved from the floor. The cranberry scent was omnipresent. When I began to relax, fingers grazed my thighs lightly. I shook. His soft touch was like torture, sending a strong tickling sensation from my knees to my groin. I twisted and contorted myself, trying to get away, wrestling with my restraints. He was laughing low.

He stopped, and large hands grabbed both my thighs as he began to massage them lightly. It was like he was caressing pillows, the gentleness of his touch. He started to massage them more deeply.

“You like that, huh?”

I made an “mmhmm” sound. His fingers dug deeper, like he was going for a deep tissue massage. I moaned. When he stopped again, I felt a stinging smack on both of them. I flinched. He rubbed the injured areas, adding to the throbbing and stinging that was left behind, only to smack them again even harder. Each time would come unexpectedly. My heart was racing faster. The pain from the clamp on my chest seemed to return. After his last strike, his hands went over my forehead and cheeks, wiping my sweat away.

He said, “You’re amazing.” It was strange to say, at least to me. Lex’s intrigue from creating this fantasy had immersed him completely. “You like it too?”

I smirked. “Yeah, I like it.”

There was a light tug on one of my clamped nipples. I sucked my teeth. He removed it, then played with my chest, driving me wild. He kissed it for forgiveness.

Fingers wrapped around my jaw. Then lips grazed mine. He played with them some more, before biting my lower lip, pulling it. He’d do it several times, and my lips began to hurt. Then, once they were burning and raw, he soothed them with a kiss, his mouth, tongue, and lips cool against mine.

___________________

It was the first time I’d been at Lex’s at night. He played music in the background that I couldn’t figure out the genre of. The smell of cranberries was still in the air, dim lights were on, and I had the impression that he thought this was some kind of date. The moment required some form of dissociation, for how could this all be for me when it should’ve been meant for someone else?

We had on our tanks and shorts, lying on his couch. He massaged my arms, drank cider. He excelled in trying to make an uncomfortable situation comfortable. The elephant in the room remained, disguised by well scented candles, random music, and his touch.

His fucking touch.

When I asked for a glass, he refused me because he said I was underage. I pointed out the irony of him refusing me alcohol but thinking me mature enough to be involved in an affair. He just shook his head, saying I was “a crazy college kid.”

“Tell me about your wife,” I said.

“What?”

“You know, her name? Her job? What is she like.” He observed me as I told him this, like he was trying to find signs that I wasn’t saying this in the right mind. Maybe he should’ve offered me that glass.

“You’ve told me nothing about her,” I said, “Come to think of it, how long you two have been married has never been brought up.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Do we really need to talk about this?”

“...Why wouldn’t we?”

Lex pulled his arm off me, putting some space between us. “The same reason I didn’t tell you in the first place; It’s not something I wanted you to know.”

“But I do know in you're in a marriage. That’s the problem. While you seem to act as though you don’t have this other life, I can’t. I think about it all the time. I can’t even talk about you without everyone thinking I’m a homewrecker-”

“You think about this too much. It’ll mess with your head if you let it.”

"How would you know? From experience?”

He sighed. “Haven’t you been enjoying this? Fooling around in secret, doing things we’ve never done? You’re not even doing anything wrong. I’m the married one here”

I turned to him. Why was he taking full responsibility for this? Affairs take two people, and being privy to his transgressions said more about me than anything. Hiding condoms, washing sheets, dumping it away in some far away dumpster to get rid of evidence. For what? I am his accomplice, and accomplices don’t get a free pass in the real world. I might as well have handed him the lighter he’s using to set his marriage certificate ablaze.

I folded my arms and felt sick. “What am I doing?” I thought.

All that was left was the silence. A light came from outside the curtains and I turned swiftly back, jumping up from my seat. Was the wife here?!

“It’s okay!” he said, his arms reaching for me. “Something must’ve tripped the lawn lights outside. Probably a rabbit.” I looked at him a bit, then turned away. I looked again at this living room he had, reminded how he shared it with somebody else. I shook my head.

Lex pulled me towards him on the couch “I get it. I’m sure doing this sneaking around thing isn’t ideal for you. Too much trouble and stress. I know.” The lawn lights went off. I tried to relax as well as I could despite the tenseness in my muscles. The air pressure thickened around us, squeezing out the last bit of breath in my lungs, tightening my stomach.

He sighed. “Her name is Ella.”

“What was that?”

“...My wife’s name is Ella. We’ve been married for seven years. She’s a nurse.”

He answered my questions, and there were more. It didn’t come across like he was being untruthful, which was relieving to a point. Ella sounded like superwoman: volunteers at church, excels at her work, dutiful wife. She was everything anyone could ask for, it made sense why he loved her. I compared us two and could hardly find any common ground.

“Why do you do so much to keep your relationship with Ella hidden from me?”

He didn’t look at me as he spoke. His eyes went to the glass that was held between his fingers. “…I don’t mean to be secretive. Despite all this, I wouldn’t want anything to ruin my marriage. I have to be careful who I share these things with. This, what we are doing, could jeopardize everything.”

His face showed fear, like he envisioned exactly what that would like. This house, and everything within it, would no longer be hers and his, but one or the others. 7 years, gone.

“Promise me you won’t share what we’re doing with her or anyone else. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

His eyes glistened now and my breathing quickened. It was...as though I didn’t want to do anything to hurt him either. So it only seemed natural that I would answer with. “...I promise.”

He squeezed me closer to him. He kissed my forehead, then smiled. My head found itself against his shoulder. I kissed his neck, smelled his scent, and I wished I didn’t have to be torn from him by the end of the night.