Who Am I - 5. Chapter 5

I wanted desperately to ask him if he knew the truth, but I was too frightened. I love him too much to make waves, but I couldn’t go on deceiving him. Yes, I love Stuart, but as a brother, not a lover. I was not being fair to him. He deserved to feel the same passions and emotions that I felt when I was fucking a woman. And what about me? I deserved to have a full time loving woman, and not a few part time fuck buddies.

For days I couldn’t sleep trying to resolve my dilemma. I should leave Stuart, but he would be devastated. Before my surgery he made it quite clear that he would kill himself if we couldn’t be together.

Finally, after a great deal of soul searching, it came to me. I needed to make Stuart fall in love with another man, and want to leave me. I realized what a monumental challenge that would be, and I began to plan it carefully.

I started to request, no, demand, that we socialize more. Stuart and I had been way too reclusive. He was so happy to ‘have me back,’ that he wanted to stay home every evening and make love. I just thought of it as fucking. Much to his chagrin, I made big parties at home and urged our friends to bring along any single stray gay men they knew. Months went by, and I met nobody who could possibly change our lives.

Then finally, it happened. I was representing a client, Ted Bass, who had been accused by an employee of sexual harassment. Both my client and the alleged victim were gay, but George Kaye, the alleged victim, was obviously not attracted to my client, who was just about approaching obesity. Now I am aware that there are men (and women) who are very turned on by big men, but George was repulsed, and couldn’t take Ted badgering him all the time. He finally quit and filed this lawsuit, which I knew I would probably lose.

We held pre-trial depositions in my office, and I reckoned immediately that George was a probable candidate for Stuart’s affections. They were about the same age, and George was very good looking. I couldn’t blame Ted for desiring him. During the depositions, he asked me where the men’s room was. I told him that I had to go also, and I led the way. There are only two urinals in the rest room so we had to stand side by side. There was a divider between them, but George purposely took out his cock before approaching the urinal. He had a beauty for sure; cut, fat and hung. I didn’t much care, but I knew it would make Stuart’s mouth water.

I allowed him to gaze upon my beauty also, and he had the nerve to whistle and say, “That’s quite a shlong you’ve got there.” I didn’t expect that.

“You should see my partner’s,” I blurted out, not knowing what else to say.

Nobody wanted to air dirty linen in public, so we settled out of court that very day. Earlier, when I was alone with my client, urging him to settle, I admonished him to control his urges, at least in the work place.

He laughed. “If Stuart would let you off your leash, I’d control my urges with you,” he said. I wanted to gag.

I had an opportunity to be alone with George a little bit later. I was alone with him in my office while he signed waivers, and other legal documents. I wrote my home address and telephone number on the back of my business card, and handed it to him. “Come for dinner tonight,” I told him. “Stuart made a pot roast. Cooking is his hobby. He could be a chef, if he wanted to.”

“Will there be other food available besides the pot roast?” George asked.

“You can bet on it.”

“Then I’ll certainly be there. What time would you like me?”

“Six will be just fine.”

As soon as he left my office, I called Stuart. “I invited an Adonis for dinner tonight, so when you get home, dress as sexily as you can, and heat up the pot roast.”

“Are you thinking of having a three-way?” Stuart asked, sounding very unhappy. “You know how much I hate those things.”

“But you know how much I love them,” I lied. I knew that Stuart would never deny me anything.

When I introduced the two men to each other that evening, I could sense an instant attraction. George handed Stuart a bottle of wine, and Stuart was so awe struck by George’s good looks, he almost dropped the bottle. I could tell immediately that George would like nothing better than to hop into bed with Stuart right then and there.

We made small talk during dinner, had after dinner drinks, and then George stood up to leave.

Stuart shocked me by blurting out, “Harry and I were hoping we could all have a go at it this evening. Please stay.”

“I really didn’t want to leave, but I was waiting for an invitation.”

Then things got awkward and very quiet, so I stood up, embraced George, and started kissing him. Stuart took each one of us by a hand, and led us into the bedroom.

Everything Stuart did that night surprised me, even shocked me. He undressed so quickly, he was almost a blur. He held out his arms, not to me, but to George. I was thrilled. I knew that I had made the right choice. If I could, I would have patted myself on the back.

I climbed into bed with them, but I immediately felt like a third wheel. They were both hard as rocks, and I was as soft as a baby’s ass. I discreetly crawled out of bed, and I watched them play a passionate game of sixty-nine. I realized then and there, that I never made love to Stuart with the passion George was displaying. He was sighing and moaning, as was Stuart. Their bodies were writhing in pleasure. When I was having sex with Stuart we were virtually mute, and I lay still as a statue. Now I was convinced that he must know what a fraud I was. I felt awful, but I knew that I could do no more for him than I was already doing. Even watching the graphic porn sequence in front of me, I remained flaccid.

I interrupted them long enough to hand them condoms and lube.

“Fuck me first,” Stuart said, smiling at George. George smiled back, and prepared both of them for what each considered to be the ultimate pleasure two men can give each other. Stuart was on his back and George entered him in the missionary position.

“Oh, baby,” George muttered. “This feels so good.”

“Yes, George, fuck me. I need it so badly. It’s been a long time.”

When Stuart said those words I ran from the room. I can’t describe how much his words hurt me. I felt like a knife had been inserted between my ribs and into my heart. I was so jealous, I couldn’t believe it. What the fuck! I fucked him every time we had sex, but I now realized, without any desire.

When I calmed down a little, I realized that I had confirmed my own suspicions. I had thought of it as having sex with Stuart, not making love. I realized also that he missed the passion that George had just gifted him, and which I lacked. Stuart and I satisfied our lust, but not the emotional needs that came with making love. He needed a man, a gay man, and I needed a woman to make it real love.

But my heart was breaking. It finally dawned on me that I could not live without Stuart, just as much as he claimed he could not live without me. I prayed that George could change all that. I knew that I would never, nor could ever, change how I was.

I stayed out of the room until I heard both their climactic screams. Then I went in and lay down beside them. They were sound asleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms, and there was plenty of room on the bed for me. I don’t think that either one of them realized that I had not only left the bed, but I had left the room.

I woke up about five in the morning. Stuart was down on me, and I was almost at the end. The pleasure he was giving me at the moment was blowing my mind and I began to wriggle, moan and sigh. For whatever reason, I wasn’t mute that morning, and I was not acting. Still I had no desire to reciprocate, and I wouldn’t, unless Stuart asked me to.

“Where’s George?” I asked, when I saw that we were alone in bed.

“He has a new job, so he went home to change. He didn’t want to be late, or miss working, since he’s just beginning the job. I’m aware that we didn’t satisfy you last night so I decided to give you a nice wake up call. You were very noisy this morning, sweetheart. Usually you don’t make a sound.”

Stuart wasn’t just making small talk. He was giving me an opening to discuss “our situation.” The last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt him, but I had to tell him the truth. Even if he wouldn’t realize it at first, it was for his own good. I thought back to the great love-making session he had last night, and I knew the truth of my convictions.

“It was real good with George last night. Wasn’t it?”

Stuart turned to me, and wiped away an errant tear from my cheek. “It was very good, my darling. What are we going to do now?”

“I guess you know that the operation didn’t change me.”

“I didn’t at first, but every so often something would come up from our past, that I had failed to tell you about, and you were oblivious to it. That made me suspicious. At first I was so happy to be making love to you again, that I failed to see how little passion you put into it. George jogged my memory last night. I love you to pieces, but I think we should separate.”

My body started to shake, and Stuart tightened his hold on me. I was afraid he would break a rib.

Finally I asked a question that I was afraid to ask. “Are you going to see George again?”

“Yes, I’m meeting him after work for dinner, and then I’m going home with him. It’s what you wanted. Isn’t it?”

“Yes, but now I’m so jealous, I’ll bet I’ve turned green.”

“I’ll have to find you a good woman, like you found me a good man. Would you mind if I did a little match making?”

“No,” I lied. Inside I wanted to yell, I don’t want another woman. I want you. I couldn’t say it, but I did ask Stuart to hold me tighter.

“Can we continue to have sex until you do?” I still could not bring myself to say make love, or to actually make love with him.

“Damn right,” he said. He wrapped himself around me, and we fell asleep again.

I knew I would be free that evening, so at work I decided to call one of my lady fuck buddies. I couldn’t bring myself to ring any one of them. I had lost my mojo, at least for the moment. I hoped it was temporary. I walked into an empty house, and I missed the aroma of Stuart’s wonderful dinners wafting from the kitchen. I missed his passionate welcoming kiss. Well, at least he was passionate, even if I wasn’t.

Stuart didn’t come home until dawn was breaking. I pretended to be asleep, but when he went into the shower, I went in after him. He smiled and we began to soap each other. He let me wash his dick, but when I got too frisky, he said, “Not now, sweetie. I’m all done out.”

I should have been elated. This is the very scenario I had created. Instead, I was crestfallen. I suddenly felt how Stuart must have felt, when I first lost my memory, and I wouldn’t let him touch me.

I stormed out of the shower, dressed and left the house without having breakfast. I usually took the subway to work, at least since I learned my way, but this morning I took a taxi. I had breakfast at a coffee shop near my office, and then went to work. I was way too early, and I was the first to arrive.

Even before the switchboard opened, my cell phone rang. It was Stuart. I hesitated to answer, but I did. Without any preliminaries Stuart asked, “Why are you so pissed at me. It’s what you wanted isn’t it?”

“Stuart, I don’t know why I’m pissed. I want you to be happy. Please believe me that I do. I can see how happy George makes you. Just leave me alone, OK? I’ll get over it.”

“I hope you do,” he said curtly. “If not, we’ll have to split right now, even though George and I haven’t even established a relationship yet, and certainly, there is no commitment.”

I couldn’t speak so I hung up on him. A few minutes later I called him.

“What do you want?” he spit out.

“I just want to know if you are coming home tonight, or if I should plan on eating dinner out?”

“George is coming for dinner, and you are certainly welcome. It’s your house too. By the way, since you haven’t enjoyed living there since you got amnesia, I’d like to buy you out.”

This time a double edged sword pierced my breast. I hung up on him, and started to cry. When I recovered, I left my partner, Ben Gross, a note saying I didn’t feel well, and I went home by subway. I felt a strange need to be with people and not to be alone.

People on the subway were looking at me strangely. I realized that I was crying. This being New York, nobody asked me if something was wrong, and could they help. The crazy thing is that if I had yelled out that I need help, everyone in the car would have assisted me. New Yorkers would never butt into someone’s privacy, but would always be there to help.

I got home somehow, undressed, and went right to bed. I cried myself to sleep, and I began to dream. It was the happiest dream I ever had:

I was eighteen years old and scared shitless. I was walking up the stairs to the main entrance of CCNY. It was orientation day. Suddenly I was seated in a huge auditorium. Stuart was sitting next to me. He seemed very shy when I introduced myself, but as for me, I wanted to take him straight to bed, but I thought he was straight.

The scene changed again, and I walked into a gay bar. Stuart was there with friends. We realized that we were both gay, and our lives began, our lives as a couple.

Then I found myself in Key West. Stuart was with me, of course. We were on a yacht, reciting words of commitment in front of the captain. I tried to look at Stuart’s face, but his beautiful youthful face was fading. I grew frightened because I couldn’t remember what he looked like.

I awoke with a start. I was in a state of confusion. I actually remembered what I had dreamt. That in itself was unusual, because as a rule, when I dream, the action is in the present tense, even if I am dreaming about ancient events. But this dream was all in the past, and what’s more, I knew it. For just a moment, a very short moment, I got the worst headache I had ever had in my life. Then it was gone as quickly as it had come.

I looked at my watch. It was 11 AM. What was I doing at home? It must be a holiday or a weekend day, and why wasn’t Stuart in bed with me? I wanted to make love to him so badly.

Everything seemed surreal to me, but little by little my head began to clear. I could remember everything, not just my life with Stuart, but my childhood, my growing up years, the pain in high school when I realized that I was gay, meeting Stuart, and losing my virginity at last, the terrible pain of being booted out of my home by my parents. Oh Stuart. Do you know how much I love you?

I dressed quickly, and ran all the way to Stuart’s office. I barged in, startling the life out of him. I grabbed him and kissed him with such passion, I thought he would pass out on me.

“I love you,” I yelled over and over. “Please don’t leave me. I remember everything. I remember us.”

“Calm down, baby. I could never leave you. I thought we might ask George to share the townhouse with us, at least until you found someone.”

Then it sunk in. “You remember?” he asked with his jaw hanging open.

“Yes, everything. Hold me. Don’t let me go. I don’t want to forget again.”

Stuart held me and we began to kiss. When we came up for air, I saw tears in his eyes. “Yes,” he said, “that kiss was like old times.”

“Take the rest of the day off, and come home with me.”

We made love all afternoon, and Stuart insisted that the new me was even better than the old me. We were cuddling cozily in bed, when it occurred to me that George was coming for dinner. I jumped out of bed, and reminded Stuart.

He pulled me back into bed. “Don’t worry. I lied to you. He’s not coming. I just wanted to make you jealous. I hoped and prayed, it might somehow bring you back to me, and it seems to have miraculously worked. Having sex with George was a lot of fun. He’s a wonderful passionate lover, but he has commitment problems, and I’m not the one to cure him. Actually he was hotter for you than for me anyway, but you sort of shied away from him. I told him about your amnesia, and how you were trying to make me believe that you remembered, when you didn’t, so that I wouldn’t be hurt.”

Stuart started to laugh. “You know what he said to me? He said that if you ever remembered how to be gay again, to please call him for a threesome. That would be all right with me someday, but for the foreseeable future, I want you all to myself.”

I jumped out of bed again. “What now?” Stuart asked.

“Get dressed. We are going out to celebrate my coming out for the second time, and when we get back home, I intend to make you so happy, you’ll forget all these months that I didn’t.”

As Stuart was dressing, he began to fear that I would have a remission one day and forget him again. He shrugged it off and decided not to worry about it on this glorious day of celebration. He would worry about it tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day.