Who Am I - 3. Chapter 3

“But I thought…..” She didn’t finish the sentence. It just floated out there like a balloon full of air.

“I strongly suggest you don’t listen to vile rumors in the future. In other words, don’t believe everything you hear,” I advised.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” Laurie said. “We can’t go to my place. I live with my mother. How about your apartment?”

I thought for a moment. I could call Stuart and tell him to make himself scarce because I was bringing home a lovely, voluptuous woman, but that would be too cruel a thing to do to him, even in my present mode of being mean to Stuart. Instead, I answered, “I’m sure we can find a hotel nearby.”

Laurie smiled and said, “I know just the place. Do you have protection with you?”

“Shit,” was my reply. “We’ll have to stop at a drugstore.”

“Uh Uh,” Laurie shook her head. “My purse is full of them.”

What a night we had. I went down on her at least three times, and she had multiple orgasms each time. She went down on me twice and I climaxed each time. I entered her vaginally once, and we both came yet again. After four or five hours we fell into an exhausted sleep. About four o’clock in the morning, Laurie woke me. She was stroking my exhausted dick but it wasn’t rising to the occasion. When she realized that I was awake, she whispered in my ear, “I’d like you to fuck me from the rear.” At first I thought she meant doggie style, but then I thought that maybe she meant the rear door.

“Do you mean anally?” I asked, quite surprised.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. I’ve got some cold cream in my purse you can use as a lubricant.” Her purse was on the floor next to the bed. She reached in and handed me the jar. Then she retrieved another condom and gave it to me. My cock was at full attention yet again.

Laurie must have been fucked in her ass a lot, because I entered her effortlessly. “Hard,” she ordered. “I like it hard.” Wanting to make the lady happy, I pumped as hard and brutally as I could and still she yelled, “Harder.”

I felt my climax approaching, and I fucked even harder if that were possible. I came screaming, “Stuuuuaaaart, Stuuuuaaaart.” I was totally unaware of the faux pas. As soon as we both could breathe again, and I vacated Laurie’s hot, tight ass, she jumped out of bed. She turned on the lights and started to dress.

“What’s the matter?” I asked in all innocence.

She was very angry. “How can you not know that at the precise moment you should have yelled Laurie you screamed out Stuart?” She was almost all dressed now, and as she ran out of the room she said between clenched teeth, “I’ll see you in the office – maybe.”

Maybe, indeed. She never did come back to the office, and I never did remember yelling Stuart’s name, but then again I could remember very little about a lot of things.

She walked out and I felt nothing. Sure, the sex was great, but I hadn’t felt any connection to Laurie. It made me wonder if sex wouldn’t be better with someone you truly loved.

I wasn’t sleepy anymore, but I decided to shower and dress at my apartment. It was now almost 6 AM and I had an MRI coming up at 9. I dressed and went downstairs. I paid the desk clerk and went outside to find a taxi.

I let myself into the apartment with the keys that Stuart had so thoughtfully given me. I yelled out his name but was greeted with silence. There was a note on the hall table. I picked it up and read:

My dearest Harry:

I love you to pieces, and I can sympathize with what has happened to you, but I can’t stand the verbal abuse you keep heaping on me. You know my friend Richie, who you totally dislike because he’s always trying to get into my pants? Well, he said I could stay with him until we can resolve this dilemma. He has hinted that he’s willing to take me in as a roommate with benefits. If I must have sex with him, then so be it. If you get your memory back or need me for anything, his number is 212-555-2131. No matter how much you reject me, I will never stop loving you. I know that your Mr. Hyde is taking over your Dr. Jekyll, and you don’t mean to hurt me at all. S

I looked around the empty apartment and ran upstairs. Stuart’s toiletries and a lot of his clothes were gone. I wondered if he had sex with Richie last night, and the strangest thing happened. I felt jealousy. How crazy was that?

I ran to the telephone and dialed Richie’s number. When I asked to speak to Stuart, Richie said, “He’s gone to work and I don’t appreciate you calling me so early, prick.” Whammo. He hung up. Suddenly I realized that I didn’t know Stuart’s work number or his cell phone number. I pulled out my own cell and scrolled down the list. There was Stuart’s name and number. I wasn’t sure whether it was his office or his cell. I pushed the call button and it turned out to be his office. A telephone message advised me to call back at 9 AM during regular business hours.”

There was nothing I could do but wait, but my MRI was scheduled at 9 and I was asked to get there early to take care of the paper work. I ran upstairs, showered, shit, shaved, and dressed casually for the test. I took a cab to the hospital and found the Imaging Department. I checked in and was given a clip board with too many sheets of paper to fill out. It was not possible for me to answer most of the questions. The answers were gone with my memory. I needed Dr. Lundgren. Where the fuck was he?

I glanced at a clock over an archway. It read 9:01 and I dialed Stuart’s office. They put me right through. “This is Mr. Carpenter,” I heard, “I’m away from my desk right now, but if you leave your name, telephone number and a brief message, I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

I wanted to cry. I realized just how much I needed Stuart at this critical time in my life. I left him a message apologizing for my behavior and begging him to come to the hospital to help me out. I continued to struggle with the hospital documents. After another ten minutes went by, my cell phone rang. When I saw that it was Stuart, it was I who started to cry. I was sobbing hard, and tried to talk, when I heard him say. “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” I felt better already.

I hung up the phone and I heard my name being called. I raised my hand and an attendant motioned me to follow him. He took me to a small examining room next to the waiting room. A youngish, Nordic looking man extended his hand to me. “I’m Dr. Lundgren,” he said kindly. “Have you filled out all the forms yet?”

“I’m afraid not. I don’t know any of the answers. My memory is gone so I don’t know if I ever had chicken pox or took drugs or anything like that. A friend of mine will be here shortly and he may be able to help me out.”

“Fine, so we’ll proceed with the MRI, and you can complete the paper work afterward.”

The MRI was in two stages. There was very little imaging and a whole lot of waiting in a frigid holding area. When I got back to the holding area after the first stage, Stuart was waiting for me. When I saw him I started to cry again. The full gravity of what had befallen me had finally sunk in. I felt helpless and alone. Ben thought that I was trying to shirk work, so I had to believe that Stuart was the only true friend I had in the world.

He put his arms around me and this time I allowed it. As I cried into his shoulder, I tried to examine my feelings. Stuart was comforting me and it felt good, but I had no sexual feelings for him. I realized that I wanted to for his sake, but I just could not conjure up anything. I vowed then and there to do what he wanted. We would live together and be best friends, but I would urge him to have sex with other men and I would have sex with women. The bottom line is that we would be exceptionally friendly roommates.

I looked up at him and said, “Stuart, please come home. I need you to help me get through this.”

He stroked the tears off my cheek. I let him. “Honey,” he said “my stuff is still in the car, and our car is still in the garage.” We looked at each other and smiled.

“Thank you Stuart,” I said. We sat and talked for a while and then they came to take me to the second round of imaging.

“I’ll be here when you get out,” Stuart said.

I smiled at him. I was so afraid of the whole world right now; I could not express my gratitude toward him.

When the MRI was concluded, Stuart helped me fill out as much of my medical history as he could. Dr.Lundgren looked over the papers and then asked Stuart to leave the room. He looked intently at me and said nothing. It was beginning to unnerve me. Just as I was about to say something to him, he spoke.

’’You know, he said, “incidences of amnesia are quite common, but yours is the first case where amnesia was accompanied by a change is sexual orientation. It intrigues me and I want to study you further. If the MRI should show any brain damage, it might indicate the exact location in the brain that controls sexual orientation. If we could determine that, the gay community will probably honor me.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Because it would prove once and for all that homosexuality is not a choice. So will you allow me to conduct studies on you after I have had an opportunity to evaluate the results of the MRI?”

“Why not,” I said. “Tell me, why are you so interested in finding the cause of homosexuality?”

“Isn’t it obvious to you that I’m gay?”

“No,” I answered emphatically. “My gaydar must have amnesia too.” Dr.Lundgren could not stop laughing.

Stuart got me home, and I welcomed the sight and comfort of OUR home. I was very hungry, and he made me a couple of hot dogs with baked beans. He said that I loved them, but I couldn’t fathom why. I had slept very little last night, and I was very sleepy. I kept yawning and Stuart helped me upstairs and told me to undress and get into bed. I knew that Stuart and I slept naked in the past, but I did not remove my boxers. I climbed into bed, and fell fast asleep.

At some point, I must have started to dream. I dreamt that I was getting a blow job. The only blow jobs I could remember were what Laurie had given me. I thought that I must be dreaming about her. But no, whoever was sucking my cock was so much better than she. The way my shaft was being licked, the way my balls were being fondled, the way someone’s fingers were lightly stroking the crack of my ass, these were all different. No, not different, infinitely more sensual. I could feel an orgasm in the making, and I began to awaken. In the instant that I realized where I was, I also realized that Stuart was doing the honors. I wanted to jump out of bed and bash him, but I was way beyond the point where I could even ask a vampire to stop. I just lay back and let it happen. I tried to fantasize that Laurie was sucking me off, but it wouldn’t happen. Stuart remained in my mind as being the cocksucker, and a fantastic one at that.

I screamed with passionate joy as I gushed several streams of my cum into his mouth. He took every drop and swallowed it. He held me in his mouth until I begged him to let me loose. My cockhead was way too sensitive. My eyes were closed, partly in guilt and shame, partly in ecstasy. I did not see him crawl up the bed to lie at my side. Suddenly I felt his lips on mine, and finally I turned my face away.

“I’m sorry, Stuart,” I told him. “I am genuinely fucking sorry, but we can’t do this again. You promised me no sex play if I stayed with you. Either you honor that promise, or I will leave. Before I do, I’ll make the proper arrangements before I go running off without a plan. Now promise me, you’ll stay on your side of the bed, and I’ll make myself scarce on my side.”

I’m sorry Harry,” he said sadly. “I came in the room to make sure you were all right. You were uncovered and your boner was sticking right out of your fly. I just couldn’t resist, but I swear I won’t ever do that again, and we’ll get those twin beds as soon as we can.”

“At least for now,” I answered, “the last thing I want to do is leave you. I need you so badly.” I started to cry. I could see that Stuart was about to put his arms around me, but he stopped short.

“Let me comfort you,” he said. “I promise no hanky panky.”

I laughed and held my arms out to him. We gave each other a nice masculine hug and I had to admit to myself, that he felt good against my nearly naked body.

“You stay in bed,” he said. “I’m going downstairs to fix us a fantastic dinner. I’ll make all your favorite things.”

“And what might those be?” I asked in true innocence.

“An appetizer of shrimp cocktail, followed by rare roast beef with roasted potatoes and green beans, topped off with apple pie with vanilla ice cream, and coffee,” he proudly announced. “How does that sound?”

“Terrific!” I said, and for the first time since I developed this amnesia, I felt enthusiasm about something.

“I need to go shopping for some of this stuff and I want to buy some wine also. Will you be alright for a while?” I nodded my head, and Stuart left the bedroom closing the door behind him.

I fell asleep again, and had the weirdest dream. Another weird thing is that when I awoke, I remembered the dream vividly.

I am in an ornately furnished room. For some reason I am sure it is a nineteenth century brothel. I am lying naked on a bed with a beautiful red headed woman. She has a body you could die for. My cock is aware of this, and it is not only hard, it is twice its usual size. The woman is stroking it, much to my delight, and I am playing with her nipples and often suckling them.

I ask her to tell me her name and she tells me it is Laurie. She begins to kiss me passionately and I roll on top of her, positioning my rod at her Venus hole. Suddenly the door bursts open and Stuart rushes in. He is naked and his erect penis is three times his norm. “You can’t do this to me,” he cries. “You know I love you and I can pleasure you better than she can. She has no feelings for you. I demand that you make a choice.”

I laugh in his face and roll over once again. I thrust my rod into Laurie and she sighs with pleasure. I hear a gunshot and quickly look to see what has happened. Stuart is lying in a pool of blood. He’s the deadest corpse I have ever seen.

I woke up sweating profusely. My psyche was yelling, Stuart, Stuart, don’t die. I love you, but my brain refused to accept that thought. My body began to relax as I realized that it was only a dream. I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. I took a leak and discovered that my cock was wet with precum. I drank a sip of tap water and returned to the bed. I fell asleep again.

As soon as I fell asleep, I had the same dream. It repeated itself word for word, but when Stuart said, “I demand you make a choice,” the scenario changed. I jump out of bed and run to Stuart. We embrace and we fondle each other’s cocks. Laurie gets out of bed, puts on a robe, and runs out of the room. She has no intention of killing herself for love of me. Stuart continues to stroke me harder and harder. I do the same to him. He gives me a mind blowing orgasm.

The dream was so real, I awoke with a start. My cock, abdomen, stomach, and chest were thick with semen. The orgasm was real. What did it all mean? Was I healing and becoming gay again? I wasn’t ready to face that possibility yet. I still felt totally straight. I went into the shower and cleansed myself. I knew I wouldn’t sleep anymore. Maybe I was afraid to sleep and dream again, so I got dressed and went downstairs. Stuart was just returning from his shopping spree.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” he scolded me.

“I can’t sleep anymore. Can I watch you prepare dinner?” I asked.

I can’t describe the look of joy that enveloped his face. He put all the bags down on the counter and said he was going for more. He went back to the car and got the rest while I started to unbag the groceries.

Poor Stuart. When his hands were finally free, he came toward me to embrace me, and I moved away from him. I’m sure it was just a reaction out of habit, but unfortunately it was his habit, not mine. Naturally, he looked hurt again. I wanted to be more loving towards him, but because he was a man, it went against my grain.

He made us a fine dinner, and after we cleaned up, we watched TV for a while. I could tell that Stuart was distracted. He was very quiet. Finally, he looked at me and said, “Until we can buy twin beds, let’s alternate the one we’ve got. You can use it the rest of this week, and starting on Monday, I’ll use the bed and you will have to use the couch.”

“Nonsense,” I said without thinking. “The bed is big enough for both of us, but we’ll both wear pajamas.” I had second thoughts about that. “Well, shorts will do, but if I pop out again, I’m off limits.”

“It won’t work,” Stuart said. “I love you Harry. I might cuddle up to you in my sleep. What then?”

“As long as that’s it, OK, but don’t go feeling me up or anything like that. Let’s give it a try. We can always go back to the couch. On Saturday, we’ll shop for twin beds.”

“Whatever you say Harry. I have a feeling that you won’t be sleeping in OUR bed much anyhow.”

“I have a feeling you’re right,” I answered. I hadn’t meant to hurt him, but with that remark I plunged another dagger into his heart.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “That didn’t come out right.”

“It’s Ok,” he said. “I intend to pray every night that you remember OUR past and come back to me.”

So, we went to sleep that night as far apart on the bed as was comfortable. Neither of us fell asleep for a long while. When the alarm clock woke us, we were almost touching, but not quite. Stuart looked at the clock, and remarked, “We have to get up earlier. We used to shower together and there was no embarrassment doing morning things together while we were both in the bathroom, but now I think we should do these things separately.” I agreed, and we agreed to get up about a half hour earlier. We would have been late to work that morning, but we skipped breakfast.

I picked up breakfast at a McDonald’s near my office, and functioned perfectly well at work, all day and all the next week. I promoted one of the clerical girls to be my secretary. She was well qualified, and I was more than satisfied with her performance. In fact, I did so well at my job, that on the following Friday, Ben walked into my office and asked me if I was kidding about the amnesia thing. I tried to assure him that I wasn’t. Fortunately, at just that moment, Dr. Lundgren called. I put the phone on speaker. After opening greetings, the doctor said, “Harry, the results are in. Can you be in my office the first thing Monday morning for a consult?”

We made an appointment. I wished him a nice weekend, turned to Ben, and said, “See?”

Things had gone perfectly well at home also. In the evenings, Stuart and I watched TV, played Scrabble, and just did a lot of talking. We were becoming very good friends without any sex. This seemed to be what he was willing to settle for. He tried hard to fill me in on my former life. I remembered nothing, but to my credit, I was able to remember every detail he related to me. I could now tell you a lot about my life without having experienced it.

Every night, we started out at the far end of the bed and every morning we awoke almost touching. I could imagine Stuart’s sexual tension. As for me, my libido was in high gear. I craved a woman, but I didn’t even know the rudiments of how to go about getting one. Besides, I enjoyed my quiet evenings at home with Stuart and didn’t go out at all.

We didn’t fall asleep quickly. Almost every night, after an hour or so, Stuart would get up and go to the bathroom. I could hear his grunts and I knew he was whacking off. When he got back in bed, I would wait ten or fifteen minutes to go to the bathroom to do the same thing. I wondered if he knew what I was doing.

Our second Saturday morning together was different. We didn’t have to get up early and we set no alarms. We both got up about 8:30 and just lingered in bed. We glanced at each other and started to laugh. We both had substantial morning woodies. Without thinking we both darted for the bathroom at the same time. “What the hell,” I said, “let’s cross swords.” That was the most intimate we had been (except for my blow job) since I lost my memory.

“We used to do this a lot,” Stuart said. “Do you remember?” I shook my head.

“You wouldn’t consider showering together, would you?” Stuart said hopefully.

“Stuart, you promised me,” I admonished him. He backed off.

“OK, me first,” he said. So, I went back to the bedroom and he closed the bathroom door. I could hear him brush his teeth and turn on the shower. I really had morning shit breath in my mouth and I wanted to brush my teeth badly, so I decided that I was being a little foolish. I went into the bathroom, and began to brush my teeth. In the mirror I could see into the shower. Stuart was soaping himself, and paying too much attention to his cock and ass. At that moment I wanted a woman so badly, I got an erection too, which I vowed to take care of in the shower.

“Keep that up,” I yelled to Stuart and you’ll be cleaning cum off the shower wall.”

“That was my intention,” Stuart let me know. “Try it you’ll like it.”

“I intend to.”

I realized that we were teasing each other, sexually, and I stopped talking. I watched Stuart finish whacking off, and I was aroused. The minute he vacated the shower, I stepped in. I needed relief badly.

That very night, I went to a local bar, and at least two gorgeous women hit on me. One of them turned out to be a lawyer. We seemed to have lots to talk about besides how beautiful we both were. I excused myself, and went to the men’s room where I called Stuart. I wanted to ask him to make himself scarce, because I just knew that this lady was going home with me. There was so much noise at Stuart’s end, I could barely hear him. He repeated himself several times. Finally, I got that he was in a gay bar and had just been cruised by a hunk, and he was going home with him. “Feel free to use OUR bed,” he said. I could not believe my reaction, I felt insanely jealous. How could that be? I had no desire to have sex with a man, even if he was my best friend. I had to will the jealousy out of my head.

I was pleased with myself that night. I performed admirably as a straight man. It was nothing special, you understand. It was the only way I knew since I got “sick.” My lady friend did not care to spend the night. She showered and dressed. I said I would escort her home, but she declined my offer. She called for a cab, and just as she was leaving, Stuart walked in and I introduced them. After she left, I asked Stuart if he wanted a night cap.

“Sure,” he said. “I’m going to get comfortable.”

We sat at the kitchen table. We were both in our boxers with a robe for covering. Stuart was sipping a scotch and soda and I was working on a gin and tonic when I commented, “I thought you would stay the night.”

“You wouldn’t know or remember,” Stuart said, “but most quickies, and one night stands, are not sleepovers. Case in point, your beautiful trick just left you. Sleepovers usually occur when there is a relationship brewing.”

I swear, it came out of me with no innuendos intended, but I said, “Like you and me.” Stuart looked stunned, and I had to say something fast. “I mean our brewing friendship,” I explained. Then, to change the subject, I proceeded to give him every detail of my recent sexual encounter.

“Very interesting,” he responded, “but it is just TMI.” Then he proceeded to relate every detail of his encounter with his pickup at the bar. When he was finished, we both realized what we had done, and we started to laugh.

Once again, I said the wrong thing. “I swear,” I assured Stuart. “I am not the least bit jealous.” Shit! I stabbed him in the heart again. The look on his face was pure anguish so I tried to soften things.

“My MRI results are in, and Dr. Lundgren wants to see me in his office Monday morning.” I laid my hand on Stuart’s. He did not move. “I’d like you to come with me, if you can get away from work.” I made it sound like a plea from me, begging his support.

“I’ll call my boss at home tomorrow evening,” Stuart said. “So far he has been very sympathetic to what has happened to you, to us, and I’m sure he’ll let me get away. If not I’ll just take a sick day. I must have a million of them due me.”