319 Winesap Lane - 1. Chapter 1 - The New Houseboy

Geoff’s POV

Jerry was just eighteen and ready to start his first year at Warnton College in September, 2014. There was an innocence about him that, unfortunately, I found sexually exciting. He was at my house for an interview to be the houseboy. I had purchased an 1895 Queen Anne style house at 319 Winesap Lane in 1986 after my Uncle Walter had died of AIDS and I inherited the bulk of his estate and, as it was much bigger than I needed, I felt there was a need for household help that far outweighed whatever privacy I might lose. Right off the bat, I started hiring students to be a houseboy and a lot of them were with me through all four of their years at Warnton. Just by Jerry’s appearance: long, sandy brown hair; steel blue eyes; small, perky nose; and thin lips, on top of a lithe frame of medium height, almost ensured I was going to have him taking up the suite on the second floor I had designated as the houseboy’s bedroom and study.

“Wow! This house is big,” he said. He was at the front door, on the covered porch. “What style is it? Is it Victorian?”

“No, Queen Anne,” I said. His eyes were pulling me into their alluring depths. “Come inside. Did you have any trouble finding it?”

“Oh, no, there’s a lady in the financial aid office who I guess lives around here. She told me which streets to take. She said you need a houseboy. What will be my duties?”

“I need someone to help out around the house. It looks quite large from the outside, but it seems to get bigger once you’re inside. I’ve drawn up a list of duties that go with the position—come on into my office and we’ll go through the interview first. If I think you’re the right boy for the job, I’ll let you look over the list and you can decide if you want the job. Come on, the office is in the back.”

We walked through the foyer, past the stairs to the upper floors and down the hall. On the left was the entryway to the living room and then on the right was the entry to the dining room with the long, twelve-foot, polished cherry table that came with the house. At the end, instead of turning right into the kitchen and pantry, we went left down a short hall to the study, which I suppose originally was the master bedroom. A door on the right side went into a room I suppose was the nursery, but I had put a lot of exercise equipment into it. In the office I had a large oak desk over by the window and two overstuffed side chairs beside the fireplace. I sat down in one and offered the other to Jerry.

“The secretary over at financial aid called and said your name is Jerrold Alexander Peterson the Fourth; is that correct?”

“Yes, Professor Johnson.”

“I tell you what, why don’t we drop the Professor Johnson around the house.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What do you go by, Jerrold or Jerry?”

“I prefer Jerry.”

“Good, that works for me, too. Where are you from?”

“Appledale, Michigan. It’s a small town near Grand Rapids.”

“Why didn’t you go to a school in Michigan?”

“Well, all the men in the family have gone to Warnton. I guess you could say it’s a tradition that I felt I shouldn’t break.”

“Did you have the grades to get into Michigan or Michigan State?”

“Yes, sir, but my great-grandfather was rather insistent I come here. My dad wasn’t too particular where I went, but Gramps was downright adamant I come here. He even went so far as to offer to pay for part of my tuition, but, of course, he’s not in a financial position to do that now. He’s out of the apple business and living on a fixed income.”

“What scholarships do you have?”

“What with the variable nature of the fruit market and needed improvements on our farm, my parents aren’t able to help out financially and I didn’t get any scholarships either, so that’s why I was looking for work-study, but Warnton doesn’t participate in the program. If I don’t find some sort of work, grants, or loans, I’ll have to go back home and maybe join the military or something like that.”

I suppose it helped that he was desperate for a job, so the next question would tell me just how desperate he was. I don’t know where this evilness was coming from, but Jerry’s body was sending signals my sixty-four-year-old mind was picking up on just like those same synapses responded to Stevie, Kiel, Tim, and Ricky when I was a teenager. Oh, to be eighteen again and have this eighteen-year-old boy’s young body practically begging me to go over to him and strip off all those clothes so I could get at all his sexiness.

“So, Jerry, how’s your sex life?”

“My what?” Jerry asked, startled. His nervousness was fully apparent and I could see a bit of fear in his eyes; he was wary of his presence in my house. “What does that have to do with me getting this job?”

“Well, part of the job includes full room and board, so that means you will be able to bring someone over, if you’re so inclined. I just need to know if you’ll be bringing over a girl or a boy. I don’t mind which, I’m just concerned if you get overly involved on one of the living room sofas and whether the other person’s shirt is going to be on the floor. Now, if it’s a boy there won’t be anything wrong, but if it’s a girl, then I might have to ask you to go into your bedroom. Then there’s the problem with intercourse. Are you into fucking or do you primarily keep it to oral sex?”

The whole time he sat there in his chair staring at me and, now that I had finished, I wasn’t certain whether he was going to bolt or stay and answer my question. At this juncture, I really didn’t care, although he was still incredibly cute and was getting more attractive the longer he sat there across from me. I very much wanted to go over to him, kneel between his knees, and discover what was beginning to fill his jeans. I wanted that young man naked. Oh, what the heck, I’d let him keep his t-shirt, but that growing bulge in his jeans was begging for attention whether Jerry realized that or not. Of course, none of that would come to be because of the paper the Provost had me sign last spring, but I could dream, especially if those dreams were filled with a beautiful boy.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked. He nervously swallowed while continuing to stare at me.

“Sure, what?” I had a suspicion, but decided to let him play his card. Maybe, just maybe, he’d play an ace. Unfortunately, he laid down a joker.

“Is it true you’re gay? My roommate in the dorm said the rumor on campus is that you’re gay? Of course, he didn’t use that word. You don’t have to tell me, but I was just wondering because of what you asked me. You don’t have to offer me the job, but, just for your information, I had a girlfriend back in Appledale. We didn’t do anything except kiss, though. I think she wanted more, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to get that involved since I was going to college out of state.”

“Well, Jerry, just for your information, I am gay.” No use in trying to fool the kid.

“If I take the job, will I have to sleep with you?”

That caught me off-guard. I hadn’t expected such frankness from a boy from Appledale, Michigan. “Why do you ask? I wouldn’t normally consider that part of the job.”

“Well, maybe, I’d like to find out what it’s like doing it with a guy and if you are gay, maybe, you’d want to do it with me if I lived here.”

So, there it was. He was a virgin, but uncertain whether he was gay or straight and willing to explore a bit with someone who might be inclined to show him the way to a man’s heart. The bulge in his jeans was certainly becoming more obvious. Whatever was going through his mind was sending signals directly to his cock, but we had lots of time and if he was interested in the job, we would have even more time to get to know each other. Of course, there was the age difference. What could he see in having sex with someone nearly fifty years his senior?

“Well, before we get to that, how about you look over the job description?” I said as I handed him the sheet of paper listing all of his duties. “If you don’t think you’ll be able to handle the job, there’s no point in going further with this.”

Jerry took the paper and began to read. I didn’t know what he was going to say. Since the house was big, and it was probably foolish for me to buy such a place to begin with. Still, I felt a need to have help with the cleaning, general maintenance, kitchen and pantry duties, and conversation in the evenings.

“So, you’re basically looking for a servant,” he said as he looked up from the paper.

“Yes, that’s right. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Well, no, but you say I have to maintain the pantry. What exactly do you mean by that?”

“Making certain we have the food items we need, both dry, refrigerated, and frozen,” I said intentionally not saying that he would also be required to participate in the food preparation, too.

“Oh, okay, I can do that. What’s general maintenance?”

“Well, since this is a small town, there aren’t any gardeners that I care to hire. So you will have to tend to the lawn and flower beds. We’ll both keep up the shrubbery. Though I am very interested in having the yard full of flowers, I prefer not getting involved in the planting, weeding, and taking out the spent flowers. Then there’s the leaves in the fall that need to be gathered up and burnt. Also, you’ll be expected to monitor the condition of the house and let me know if we have to call in an electrician or a plumber. The furnace in the basement pretty much takes care of itself, but you would be required to go down there and sweep now and then. Keep the bugs and spiders out.”

“Oh, okay, I guess I can do those things,” he said with a smile. “I did a lot of that stuff at home, so I should be able to do it for you, too. This thing here about maintaining good study habits. What do you mean by that?”

“I want you to maintain your grades so you’ll be required to do all the studying you need to do to accomplish that.”

“Will I be required to maintain a certain GPA?”

“Jerry, the better you do here at Warnton, the better chance you have of getting the position you want after college, whether that is graduate school or a good job. Anything else?”

“Sir, I’d like the job if I can have it. I certainly could use the money you’re offering, especially the room and board. I’d probably be willing to do anything to get that, even have sex with you, if you’re thinking of doing that.”

I couldn’t imagine how desperate he was to get a paying job plus room and board—I wondered what he was going to say when he found out he’d be doing a lot of the cooking, too. “Jerry, I’m very much willing to hire you and as part of the deal I’ll give you an extra amount to cover whatever other school expenses you have so that you don’t have to get any loans. How does that sound?”

“Wow! That’s great. So, are we going to have sex, now?”

“No, not now and in all likelihood never. Do you have a car?” I asked.

My mind kicked in and began a conversation with itself. Hey, stupid, the kid wants to have sex with you. Go over and kneel in front of him, open his pants, and see what he has to offer. But, no, not right now. Later. Let Jerry get settled into the house. Give him the grand tour. Go slow. Don’t scare him off. Remember that rent boy from three years ago you rimmed before fucking? And, you told Tim you didn’t like to do that. You remember telling Tim that, don’t you? Are you going to do that to Jerry before you fuck him? You are going to fuck him, right? Forget what the Provost told you. You’re an adult. If Jerry wants to have sex, give him what he wants. Remember how you were at that age? Certainly you’ll have to go slow, but give the boy a little credit. He’s intelligent. He wouldn’t have gotten into Warnton if he wasn’t, even if his great-grandfather, grandfather, and father attended Warnton. No, take your time, you’ll get him into your bed and he’ll be thanking you all the way to the bank every month. You did say you were going to pay him extra, well give him extra and he’ll come right up to you and give you his cock—maybe his ass, too—just for the opportunity to find out what gay sex is all about.

“Yes, I have a car.”

“Good, now go back to the dorm and get all your stuff. You can move in today. I’ll go down to the financial aid office and let them know I’ll be hiring you and that you’ll be moving in with me. I think this will work out just fine.”

He left and I sat there while my mind began talking to itself, again. Why I hadn’t taken him upstairs to see his bedroom. That would have been a good time to get him naked, but there was plenty of time for that sort of thing. Frankly, I wasn’t in that much of a hurry. We’d get around to sex eventually and he was going to find out if having gay sex was something he was willing to get involved with. How was I going to go about this, though? He was a virgin. Other than having kissed a girl and probably not doing much more than a little petting, how was he going to be when I started undressing him? Would he run to the Dean of Students? That would ruin everything. He might even have a visit from the police.

It was all that stupid Derek’s fault last spring. “Hey, Geoff, you want to meet a great kid? I got a soph in my Founding Fathers 203 class that’s a little edgy. Maybe the boy needs a blowjob. What do you think?”

And, you went along with it. And, you brought him back to your house. And, you gave him alcohol. And, you sucked his cock. And, he reported you to the Dean of Students. And, now you’re on probation with the school. One more boy running to the admin building and goodbye Geoff. Fucking dumbass Derek; at least the school didn’t renew his contract and sent him packing. “Hey kid, let my friend suck your cock and I’ll give you a passing grade.” Shit! And, now, you’ve hired this cute kid. What the fuck are you going to do, now, dumbass?

* * * *

I couldn’t believe what financial aid was doing to Jerry. It was almost as if they wanted him to go back home. They weren’t going to offer him anything in the way of grants or loans. So, I went down to admin and went into the admissions office where I paid his tuition for the fall term and all the other fees that were required, which weren’t much since he wasn’t going to be living in the dorms. Now, all he would need is money for his books, note taking material, and whatever else he needed for the classes he had signed up for.

I made it back to the house just before he drove up. I asked if he had gotten everything and he said he did, which was a good thing because I had checked him out at residential life while I was down at the admin building settling his tuition situation. We carried all of his boxes up to the suite where he would be living and I went about helping him unpack. Many times, I would be close to him at the pile of boxes when both of us happened to be there and there was a smell of him in the air. I don’t know if it was soap, after shave, shampoo, or his natural scent, but it was driving me crazy. I finally stopped and sat on the bed to watch him finish.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as a strange look crossed his face.

“You, that’s what,” I said. I knew I should wait, go slow, give him a chance to react, but that smell around him permeated my very sense of being.

“What about me is wrong?” he asked. He honestly looked as if he was concerned.

“You have an odor I find very appealing,” I said as I sat on the bed trying to avoid his glare. “In all my years, I’ve rarely had a reaction like this to the pheromones given off by another man. I don’t know what you do to cause it, but you’re driving me nuts in here.”

“You mean I stink?”

“No, Jerry, you definitely do not stink. If you came over here right now, I would probably push you down on the bed and try to discover what it is about you that I’m falling for.”

He stood over there by the door and the diminished stack of boxes staring at me. And, then he did something I didn’t expect. An expression of hesitation filled his face for a moment and then he came over to me. He stood before me with a pleading stare. He licked his lips as if readying himself to kiss me. But, I couldn’t stay here, I had to get out, I had to get away, I had to remove myself from his presence. I stood and pushed him out of my way as I tried to exit his room.

“What?” he asked, shocked at my departure.

“I can’t do this,” I stammered. “You’re a student and I’m a professor. We can’t do this. And, besides, I’m your employer. No, I’ll get fired if anyone finds out and someone always finds out. I’m sorry, you’ll have to finish unpacking on your own.”

I practically ran out of the room and down the stairs. Back in my study, my heart was pounding while I sat in my chair trying to calm down. Jerry was more ready than I thought and his desire met mine. It wouldn’t have taken us any time at all until we were both naked and doing things Jerry probably had no idea could be done between two men. I got up, went over to the liquor cabinet, and poured a couple ounces of brandy into an old fashion glass. I knocked it back and felt the burn course down my throat. What was I going to do?

“Sir?”

I turned around and saw a little boy standing in the door. He looked so pathetic I wanted to go to him and take him in my arms, but that couldn’t be. “No touching!” Period. Not only had I desired to touch him, I imagine kissing him, and I had enjoyed it! I poured some more brandy and returned to my chair.

“Sit in the chair; we need to talk,” I said. Jerry sat down. The bulge in his groin was quite prominent. He was hung, besides being cute, what a combination. “There was a boy last spring who was having trouble in a class of a friend of mine’s and this friend, knowing my sexual desire for young men, offered the boy to me in exchange for giving the boy a passing grade at the end of the term.”

“Oh, sir, that’s not right.”

“That’s not the bad part of the story. Needless to say, I sucked the kid’s cock, but thinking he had been had by a couple professors, the kid went to admin and complained. His professor isn’t here this year; didn’t even last until the end of spring term. I’m on probation. As much as I want—I will tell you right now I desire you very much—we’re not going to be having sex anytime soon.”

“When can we have sex?” he asked. Why did he have to arrive this year? Why not last year or next year, but no, Jerry had to be here in all his innocence desiring to have sex with me. Hell, I was old enough to be his grandfather. What kind of kid desires to have sex with their grandfather? Was I that sexy to him?

“When you’re twenty-one.”

“That long? What am I going to do in the meantime?”

“Find a girl, the campus is full of them,” I offered fully knowing he didn’t want one of those.

“Maybe I don’t want a girl, maybe I want to get to know a boy,” he said. How could I have this youngster who was full of such innocence in my home? “Can you tell me how to have gay sex, if I ask? Or, is that on the forbudt list?

“Forbudt?” I asked unfamiliar with the term even thought I was a comparative linguistics scholar. It sounded familiar to a root word for “forbidden”, but I wasn’t certain.

“Oh, sorry, that’s Norwegian for forbidden,” he said with a smile. “The church I went to back at home was originally in a synod of Norwegian Lutheran churches, but a schism occurred when some in the church wanted to bring English into the liturgy. Our group remained Norwegian for a few more decades. I have a small vocabulary of Norwegian words that I can use when appropriate.”

“That’s interesting, I teach foreign languages here at Warnton—we’ll have to compare notes sometime,” I said. “I have a book you can read. It’s been revised to include safe sex instructions, but I can answer questions, too.”

“Where can I find a boy who might want to be my boyfriend?”

“Well, Jerry, I don’t really know. I believe there’s a LGBTQ group on campus. I’m sure if you go to their meetings you might have a chance of hooking up with another boy. Of course, you know once you start hanging around a bunch of lesbians, gays, bi’s, trans, and queers you’re going to be known as falling under one of those labels. People are always looking to put labels on people.”

“What did you do when you were younger?” he asked. What kind of question was that?

“I was a freshman in high school when I was outed—that was back in the sixties—but I had a friend who I thought was my boyfriend, but he died and I found out he was only using me to get off. After that, I kind of attracted other boys who were interested in gay sex. I came to Warnton a year early, but my reputation preceded me. Student Affairs made it possible for me to meet a gay boy and we hung out together until he graduated two year later. I graduated a year after that and went to graduate school in L.A. where I had a gay uncle and was able to slip into the L.A. gay scene and was fairly happy for nearly five years before I came back here.”

* * * *

Later that night we were once again in my study sitting in the side chairs. I thought about having a fire to celebrate Jerry’s first day with me, but it had been a rather warm day, so I settled for a good brandy in small snifters. Jerry seemed to appreciate the trust I was showing him by allowing him to drink alcohol in my home, but I told him that I was not a drunk and didn’t want him to be one either. Plus, I told him I was not opposed to him having weed in the house as long as he restricted his use to his rooms. He said he didn’t smoke that stuff and I chose to believe him. I told him anything else was totally forbidden and discovering it would result in immediate notification to the authorities and cessation of his employment and all privileges that went with that, which would mean his return to Michigan if the police didn’t have other ideas. He gave me his promise on that.

I was in red, blue, and gray tartan flannel pajamas while Jerry was wearing light blue boxers; his tanned, hairless, muscular chest was most appealing. I was sipping my brandy and watching Jerry. He was looking through a book he had picked up at the bookstore. It was for the Anthropology 101 course, one of the optional basic core subject classes required of all students. Classes for whatever major he might eventually choose wouldn’t be available to him until his junior year. Jerry had very little body hair, including only a sparse beard, which made his face quite desirous.

“What’s it like?” Jerry asked, unexpectedly breaking my concentration.

“What’s what like?” What indeed could he want to know that I had the ability to answer?

“Being fucked by a man. Does it hurt? Do you go in and out like you would do with a girl? I’ve had big, hard shits; would it feel something like that?”

“Well, yes, it would be painful in the beginning. Like most things in life you need to learn how to do it. But, to take a cock into your ass you have to understand that giving yourself in that very personal way is something that you have to consider very carefully. There can only be one first time. In many ways, being fucked is submitting yourself to the dominance of the other man. It’s not something to be taken lightly.”

He took a rather large swallow of brandy and sputtered from the burn of the alcohol in his throat. He looked at me with an expression I couldn’t place. As I had been speaking to him I could see his cock stirring in his boxers, but now it had settled back into some state of normalcy.

“You know, sir, you don’t have to sound so academic around me,” Jerry said with a wry smile.

“I’m a college professor; I make my money sounding academic, so get used to it.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“His name was Tim—he was in the Navy—I’d known him since high school,” I said as I thought back to that first time Tim had sex with me or rather forced me to have sex with him. It had been a rather dodgy relationship that got off to a rocky start. “I left high school early to come here to college. He stayed in North Park, but we remained close, as close as you can have with a long distance relationship. I went to graduate school in LA and he went into the Navy as a pilot. We managed to see each other every year or so until he died of AIDS in 1991. I had purchased this house after my uncle died and I had houseboys ever since, many of whom became my lovers. You’ll be the first that I won’t be bringing to my bed.”

“I’m sorry about that.” Another swallow of brandy, a small one this time. He’s learning. Maybe tomorrow we’ll try a good single malt, that’ll get him to sputter, probably more like gag.

“Life happens, you have to adjust and get on with it. We’ll get on.”

“Do you have anyone, you know, an adult gay man you can be with?”

Why all the depressing talk about gay sex when he wasn’t going to be getting any from me? “No, well, there was Derek, but with that incident I’ll have to look around.”

“Any prospects?”

“No.” I lived in a small college town in Upstate New York. Where was I going to find someone who might want to share my bed?

“It must be lonely not having someone close to you,” he said. He took a long sip of brandy and kept the glass cupped in his hands to keep the liquor warm. “I’ve heard about places called gay clubs, do you go to them?”

“There’s a few in Rochester and maybe one or two in Syracuse, but nothing close by. Being gay at my age is mostly a solitary affair.”

I didn’t want to sound sad, but knew it came across that way. Being single was a horrible way to live. Even living with someone in another bedroom was far better than not having anyone else sleeping in your home.

“That sounds horrible. Do you mind if I sleep with you?”

“Well, Jerry, now you’re getting into that—what did you call it?—forbudt thing. I wouldn’t mind having you sleep in my bed, but I could lose so much if anyone found out. Besides, I snore.”

He took a swallow of brandy and set the glass on the side table. He stood and slowly walked over to where I sat and knelt down on the floor at my feet. I looked in horror at him as he lay his head on my thigh. I willed myself not to get an erection. “I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“People find out, Jerry, people always find out.” I placed my hand onto his head and felt him slightly push against it. Desire filled my heart, but it was not to be.

“Well, they’re not going to find out from me—even if the Dean of Students called me into his office, I wouldn’t tell him,” he said. I felt a finger on my other thigh as it slowly crisscrossed along the pattern in my pajamas. It was so close to me, so close to getting both of us in trouble. “I’m not saying I want to have sex with you, I’m just trying to be nice. Can’t I do that for you?”

“When’s your first class tomorrow?” I asked purposefully to change the subject.

“Ten, it’s the anthropology one. A person by the name of A. Adams. Do you know anything about him?”

“Alice Adams is a nice woman and you’ll like her—including myself and a few other professors—she’s one of our better scholars and educators,” I said. “The only thing you need to know about Anthropology 101 is accumulation and regurgitation. Absorb all the lecture notes, assigned reading, do the term paper, and take the two tests. There’s very little thinking involved in any 101 class. What are your other classes tomorrow?”

His finger on my thigh moved too close and brushed against the head of my cock. I jumped slightly and he said, “Sorry, I have College Algebra 101 at one. The instructor is listed as staff. What’s that mean?”

“It’ll be a graduate student from Rochester or Syracuse. Math and science use a lot of them because the professors are usually concentrating on the more complicated subjects or research projects and can’t be bothered with basic classes. Accumulate and regurgitate will get you along just fine. Are you good at math?”

“Yeah, I don’t have any problem with math, but I didn’t take calculus in high school so they’re making me start all over here. Algebra is too easy; I might get bored. What’s come taste like?”

It was startling how easily he switched back to talking about sex. Well, this was rather straight forward and had a simple answer. I said, “It has a complex flavor that is somewhat affected by what a person eats. Some say it’s an acquired taste, tart on the tongue and a bit slimy, but the only way you can find out is try it yourself. Unfortunately, you’ll have to wait until you find a boy who’s interested in putting his cock in your mouth.”

“Frankly, sir, I can’t wait, but I guess I’ll have to even though your cock is right here,” he said as he looked up at me and smiled. Yes, it was right there and without too much manipulation on his part would be ready for lesson number one, but that was not to be, nor would it be for a long time.

“Well, it’s getting late and I have to get up early for an eight o’clock class,” I said as I shoved him away from me. He rose to his feet in one fluid motion. “Come on, let’s shut the house down for the night and we’ll go up to my bedroom. If you want, you can sleep with me tonight to see if you can stand my snoring. Okay?”

“Yes, sir, that sounds great. Sir? Can I call you by your name if we’re going to sleep together? I mean I won’t do all the time, but like right now, ‘sir’ seems so formal.”

“Geoff is fine,” I said. I finished my brandy and he did the same. He took the glasses as if to take them to the kitchen.

“Hey, Jerry and Jeffy. The two jays.”

“Jerry, never, ever call me Geoffy again,” I said loudly. He looked over at me as if I’d shot him through the heart. “That will get you booted out of this house in an instant. And, it’s Geoff with a ‘G’, ‘G-E-O-F-F-R-E-Y’.”

“Oh, okay, Chaucer. I can remember that.”

“Chaucer? What’s a boy from an apple orchard in Michigan doing with Chaucer?”

“Reading him. I read The Canterbury Tales when I was a junior and it wasn’t for a paper either, just for curiosity’s sake.”

“What’d you think about it?”

“It was different. I still have the book and read it now and then. I brought it with me because I thought I might need it in college.”

We finally made it up to my room where I went into the bathroom to take care of my nightly ablutions and dental care. When I came out Jerry wasn’t there. I didn’t know what to think. Maybe, he got scared of what might happen. I turned out the light, pulled the covers back and lay down. After a while, he walked back into the dark room and I looked up at him after he turned on the bedside lamp.

“Had to get my toothbrush and floss,” he said. He went into the bathroom.

When he came back to the bed, he pulled back the bedcovers on his side and got in. After turning off the light, he snuggled up against me and lightly kissed me on the lips.

“Good night, Geoff, I’m going to have a good time here and I promise I won’t try to entice you into having sex with me. Do you mind if I lay close to you? I’ve never slept close to someone like this.”

“Good night, Jerry, and, no, I don’t mind if you snuggle.”

* * * *

“You will not touch any students again, do you understand, Professor Johnson?” the Provost said that dark day the previous spring.

“Yes, sir, but what if they’re adults, you know over twenty-one, and not in any of my classes?”

“Okay, but if I hear of any complaints about you from the other professors or instructors, I don’t care if you’ve got tenure, I’ll bump you out of this institution if I have to bring down God Almighty to do it. It’s taken me many years to get Warnton cleaned up from all the perverts who used to prowl the halls and men’s rooms and I will not allow it to get back to that state.”

“Yes, sir, no more students.”

“And, Geoff …”

“Yes, sir?”

“I read your paper on Geoffrey Chaucer; it was very good. Thank you for being the scholar you are.”

“Thank you, sir.”