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Fall Anthology 2023 - Leap of Faith Due Sunday 10/1! ×
    Tim Hobson
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  • 6,841 Words
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental. Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

BE ADVISED: This story contains gay sexual situations, graphic depictions of oral and anal sex, profanity, references to alcohol and drug consumption, mild violence, and threats of violence.

Coming Out - 7. Winston

Bruce is nothing if not resilient. He isn’t as wise or mature as he thinks, but he seems to roll with the punches and somehow come out better off for each painful experience. I can’t say many people would have the ability to do that, but don’t forget that our hero is writing this autobiography from the perspective of twenty years in the future.

The answering machine hit the wall with a resounding crash and splintered into plastic shards and tangled wires. My head was spinning again, but all the pain was inside me this time. My stomach started to heave. I rushed to the kitchen sink, where I choked and gagged, but I couldn’t bring anything up.

My thoughts were racing, and my body shuddered as if it were being torn apart. I couldn’t get David out of my mind.

You bastard! You sweet, kind, beautiful man! You fucking son of a bitch! I love you! I hate you! I never want to see you again! Please, David, oh please come home to me!

Hot tears of regret, betrayal, and pure anguish ran down my face as I flung myself on the bed. How could I not have seen what was now so obvious? We never uttered any words of commitment—never made plans for an “everlasting future” together. Shame flooded my face and squelched my tears. I was ashamed of being so gullible and such an idiot not to realize David didn’t love me the way I loved him. It was Craig all over again.

Sitting up, I scrubbed at my reddened eyes. Anger replaced the other emotions as it sunk in that he was truly gone. The fact that he had broken up with me over the phone—not even over the phone—over the goddamn answering machine, was more than I could process.

Shaking, I got out of bed and stumbled around my apartment. The balcony beckoned to me ominously. I visualized opening the sliding glass door, taking three running steps toward the railing, and throwing myself into the air, hitting the cement below in less than ten seconds—the last moments of my miserable, lonely, messed-up life. But something stopped me.

Goddammit, I deserved better! I’d been fucked over by the very man that I wanted to fuck me every day for the rest of my life. David was an ungrateful, unfaithful bastard, and I was better off without him. Now I just had to convince myself that was true.

I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes again. If all it took was for that bastard to run into an old lover—which is what he was really saying in the fucking voicemail—along with the offer of even more money when he already had so much he didn’t have to lift a finger to earn it, then fuck him!

I opened the refrigerator and without thinking reached for the imported Chardonnay David had given me for my birthday. As soon as the bottle was in my hand, I recoiled, dropping it to the floor, where it bounced and rolled away. Those French sure make durable glassware! I picked it up and heaved it across the room where it shattered into a million wet pieces, showering down on the dismembered answering machine.

Trembling, with tears wetting my cheeks, I stuck my head in the fridge and saw one can of Coors Light. Without thinking, I popped the top and chugged about half of it. Seconds later, I threw up in the kitchen sink.

Resting both arms on the counter, I lowered my head and took several shaky breaths. I turned the water on full force and watched it wash away the evidence of my despair.

A soft tapping came from my front door, and I jumped out of my skin. I took a few steps back from the sink and looked around, frantic to find someplace to hide from Carl, or whatever other monster was coming after me.

Another knock sounded, louder this time.

Get a hold of yourself, for shit’s sake! Carl is in jail—for good this time. Go see who’s at your door.

I forced myself to cross the room and peer through the peephole. A familiar dark suit and a worried face greeted me.

“Bruce? It’s Detective Winston Buchanan. Are you OK in there? I heard something breaking.”

I fiddled with the deadbolt and opened the door a crack. “I’m fine. I just threw up, that’s all. Please go away.”

“Bruce? Mr. Hobson?” he said, sounding a little more like a cop. “I need to come in and confirm you’re safe and everything’s all right.”

Choking on the words, I replied, “Thanks to you, I’m so fucking safe it hurts, but nothing’s all right. Please just leave me alone!”

Without another word, the detective put gentle pressure on the door, and I was powerless to resist. The door opened, propelling me backward. I felt dizzy and staggered. Strong arms surrounded me, supporting and guiding me to the couch, where he helped me lie down and stretch out.

“Take it easy, buddy. Breathe slow and deep. Are you gonna be sick again?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I need to be by myself right now. Please—”

He surveyed the room, taking in the smashed answering machine and shattered wine bottle. He realized I had done all this and was not in immediate danger, except perhaps to myself.

The policeman sat on the edge of the coffee table before me. He reached out and took my hand. His grip was firm and reassuring. I came out of my stupor—and I was totally embarrassed.

Giving my hand a comforting squeeze, he said, “You’ve been through hell and back. It’s no surprise your emotions are raw—”

“My emotions are raw? Bullshit! You don’t know me. I have no emotions left. They’re gone forever. My life is completely fucked up.” So much for my getting over David.

Buchanan added his other hand to the first, enclosing mine in the warm cocoon. “I don’t believe that. You are a survivor—you survived, you made it through the worst. You’re going to be OK.”

“No, I won’t. You don’t understand!” I choked back a sob. “You remember David Liu, the guy I told you about? The man I loved? The man I spent practically every day and night with for three years?”

The detective nodded, guessing where this was going.

“Well, the son of a bitch left me A FUCKING VOICEMAIL!" I paused to catch my breath. “He called from some place in Hawai’i. He’s staying there! He met up with an old boyfriend, and they’re probably fucking their way through every pineapple grove on the whole goddamn island!”

He released my hands and nodded his head with an understanding smile. “I’m sorry, Bruce. I get it.” He was silent for a while. “Would you like some water and maybe an aspirin?”

Looking at his face through the blur of tears, all I saw was sincerity and concern. Unable to speak, I opened my arms and reached for him. Without hesitation, he drew me into a hug and held me protectively. My body heaved with sobbing. He kept saying, over and over, “I’m sorry, Bruce. I’m so sorry.”

This went on until I was all cried out. Both our shirts were soaked. When I regained my composure, the policeman released me and sat back. He smiled compassionately and said, “I’ll get you that water.” He rose, and I heard him busying himself in the kitchen.

He returned with a glass and helped me sit up. He held the glass to my lips and let me take a few sips. “Easy does it, champ. Take your time. Don’t wanna heave again.”

I took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and wiped my eyes. I gave him a good look and giggled. “Your shirt is soaking wet, Detective Buchanan. Doesn’t that mean you’re out of uniform?”

He grinned at me, “Why, yes, Mister Hobson, it sure does. I guess I’ll get written up for this.” He put a hand on my shoulder, and I reached up and rested my hand on top of his.

“You didn’t have to do this,” I told him.

“Our motto is Protect and Serve,” he said with restrained solemnity. “I kinda fucked up the ‘protect’ part, seeing as how you ended up in the hospital, so I’m going to give the ‘serve’ part a try.”

He smiled kindly, and I did my best to compose myself and smile back. Reaching for the glass of water, I took it from his hand and let the cool liquid soothe my throat. My body was limp, drained from the searing emotions, and my voice was scratchy from hours of screaming curses, crying, and most recently vomiting.

“I’m so embarrassed. I hate for you to see me this way.”

He spoke quietly and with compassion, “I don’t know, Bruce, but it sure seems like life gives you the shitty end of the stick, over and over.”

“You’ve got that right...Winston. I sometimes think I must’ve been a real asshole in a previous life to deserve all the bad karma I’m getting in this one!” We both chuckled.

The tension broke and we relaxed. The policeman moved to the easy chair, and I sat up straighter on the couch. He steered the conversation away from Carl, David, and everything that had happened to me over the past week or so. He inquired about my family, our home in Denver, my studies, and my plans for grad school.

In return, I asked him where he grew up, how he became a cop, what it's like to shoot somebody and other childish questions. His matter-of-fact answers highlighted how ignorant I was of the harsh, ugly, dangerous world in which he lived.

I asked if he were hungry. We ordered Chinese and sat at my small dining table, talking like two ordinary semi-friends rather than people who had been through a war for the past seven days.

“I had a bottle of wine and a beer, but they’re both...gone.”

He glanced at the debris on my floor. “No problem. I don’t need anything, and you were on some pretty strong shit in the hospital, so you probably oughta lay off alcohol for a day or two anyway.”

“Well, how about some coffee?”

He accepted, and we took two steaming mugs to the chairs on my balcony where we sat and watched the sunset. A new feeling of ease and security surrounded me as we drank in companionable silence.

“This looks like a nice apartment complex,” Winston observed.

“It has its ups and downs, I guess.”

“Tell me about it!” As soon as the words were out, he gave a little nervous chuckle. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s OK. You’re exactly right.”

Changing the subject, the detective told me stories about some of the weird people he had arrested and the characters he worked with in the police department. I relaxed and was able to think about things other than my love life and almost getting knifed to death.

I sure had Winston pegged wrong. He was more than the hard-assed cop I first thought. In fact, he was a complicated man and sexy as hell, too. I had never been with a Black man, but I thought I’d like to get it on with him. I wondered if he were gay or straight—or maybe liked to switch hit from time to time.

As darkness crept into the park and shaded us in soundless twilight, Winston checked his watch and got to his feet. “Dammit!” he said, “I’m keeping you up, and if anybody needs their rest, you do.”

Gathering the coffee cups, I put them in the sink, then followed him to the door. He opened it and flashed me a friendly smile.

I gripped the hand he offered. It was warm and firm. “Well, Bruce. I hope this isn’t the only way we’ll ever know each other. You’re a nice guy, and I hate like hell what has happened to you—all of it, I mean.”

He stepped over the threshold and turned to face me once again. His eyes met mine as if he wanted to say something, but he shook his head slightly and walked away. Whatever inner turmoil he felt, he had subdued it.

My eyes were glued to him as he went down the short hallway and disappeared around the corner at the stairwell. Seconds later, I heard the main entrance door open and close. With a sigh, I returned to my apartment and slowly closed the door.

I went to the sink, rinsed the coffee cups, and placed them in the dishwasher.

I can’t help but think about what has been, and what might have been. Why do men come into my life and just as quickly vanish? Is there something about me that drives them away?

A soft knock on the door interrupted my chore, and I froze, unwilling to believe I had really heard it.

A more assertive knock proved that I wasn’t dreaming. I hurried over and opened the door.

Winston stood there looking sheepish. I started to speak but instead reached out to him for a hug. He stepped inside, spread his arms wide, and wrapped the expanse of his strong body around me. I felt safe—safer than I had in a long time.

I rested my head on his shoulder, and he put a hand on the top of my back. When I looked up, our faces were inches apart. “Winston, I—”

“Shh. No need to say anything. I get it.”

After gazing into each other’s eyes for a silent moment, we moved in unison and our lips met. I reached up and wrapped both arms around his neck, pressing my body into his. Our mouths opened and our tongues clashed.

I realized I wasn’t breathing, so I pulled back a tiny bit, inhaled, and smiled at him.

“I...I mean I...oh, what the fuck! Kiss me again!”

He responded with eagerness, embracing me as passionate desire replaced the official politeness he had maintained from the moment he met me outside my building. I led him into the apartment, kicking the door closed. As I fumbled to get him out of his coat and tie and led him back to the couch, he paused to deposit his gun on the kitchen counter.

We fell onto the cushions, side by side, kissing and hugging with frenzied abandon. He stopped and looked into my eyes.

“Bruce, I’ve wanted this since the day I met you, but I couldn’t get up the nerve to do anything about it.” In response, I reached down and unbuckled his belt. We shed our clothes in seconds.

He lay back, and I climbed into his lap like a kid visiting Santa Claus at the mall. The heat of his body comforted me, and I let myself relax, resting on him. Each time he breathed in, his chest rose, and I was lifted closer to his face and gave him a peck on the lips.

I turned to straddle his lap. Our cocks were already hard, and they met like a couple of old friends.

I had tried to imagine what he looked like naked since the day he came into my hospital room to interrogate me about Carl’s drugs—and now I wasn’t disappointed. His upper body muscles were so well-developed I was sure he spent a lot of time in a gym. I wondered when he had the time, which led to picturing how sexy he looked working out!

His skin and eyes were a delicious chocolate brown. Like most police officers, he wore his jet-black hair in a closely-cropped crewcut. He raised his arms with a grin and rested his hands behind his head. His armpits were filled with thick hair, and I decided to taste them very soon. He had a light patch of curls above his dark nipples, which were sticking up like little Hershey’s Kisses.

I felt a chill when I noticed a small dark circular scar over his lift nipple. Hesitantly, I touched it.

“Does this hurt?”

“No, it’s an old wound.”

I recoiled. “How did you get it?”

“Long story.”

“I have time.”

“Maybe some other time. Let’s just say somebody shot at me, and I survived. It’s par for the course in police work.”

Searching in his eyes for some sign of the pain he must have suffered, all I saw was acceptance and tenderness, so I resumed my physical examination of his gorgeous body.

A down of soft hairs covered his pecs and consolidated into a thin line that traveled over his rippled abs and down to his navel, where they expanded into a thick mat of black curls that merged into a dense bush of pubic hair. His legs were hairy, and he had little tufts of hair on his toes.

His cock and balls were a darker color than the sepia skin of the rest of his body. I leaned down to stare at his uncut penis, tantalizing me as it rested on his balls hanging down below it. It was easily six inches long when soft, and I hungrily estimated how much bigger it would be when hard.

My interest in his package turned him on, and the flaccid flesh came to life and soon expanded to full erection. My prurient curiosity was satisfied—his magnificent shaft had to be eight or more inches long. I gasped involuntarily.

For the first time in my life, I was with a real man. David was too pretty and too in love with himself. This dude was all business—he took care of the parts he needed to and didn’t primp and fuss about the rest.

My fascination with his hard-on wasn’t wasted on Winston. “Like it?”

“Uh, you bet. I, uh—”

“You always heard that Black men had big dicks, and now you’re seeing for yourself?”

“Something like that.”

“So, what do you think?”

“Well, I don’t know about Black men, but I know one Black man with the biggest fuckin dick I have ever seen.” We both laughed out loud.

I decided to defer a closer examination of Winston’s cock for now, so I kissed him lightly on the lips and began kissing my way down his throat, collarbones, and shoulders. Lifting his chin and laying his head back with his eyes closed, he made little sounds of delight as I bathed him with my kisses.

I lifted one of his arms and tasted his armpit. It smelled fresh and clean, with a hint of a masculine scent. While I lavished my tongue on his pit, I used my other hand to tease the hair on his upper chest and to pinch and tickle his nipples, which got an immediate reaction from him.

“Whoa! They’re super-sensitive. I don’t usually like anybody touching them.”

“What about this?” I asked, gently sucking one between my lips, avoiding contact with my teeth. He responded by arching his back and moaning.

I continued kissing down over his well-defined abs and stuck my tongue into his belly button, which made him giggle. I traced my nose down the widening trail of hair, arriving at his thick mat of pubes. I nudged his erection to one side as I buried my face in his bush.

I licked downward through the hairy jungle until I reached one of his large, dangling testicles, licking and sucking it into my mouth. The heady flavor of virile sweat made my head swim, and the pit of my stomach burned with desire as I inhaled. His primal scent smelled like the inside of a well-used jockstrap.

Winston writhed, making soft sounds and occasionally exclaiming, “Fuck! That’s good!”

Moving to his other nut, I gave it the same loving attention, burying my nose between his two testicles. Tracing my way upward, I started with my tongue at the base of his now-throbbing penis and wet it as I ascended its considerable length.

A delicious drop of sticky precum oozed out of his knob, and I eagerly licked it away.

His foreskin slid downward as I sucked his massive shaft to the back of my throat.

Damn! I’ll gag if I try to take the whole thing, but I’ll give it my best effort.

Unable to hold himself back, Winston shouted, “Hold it! If you don’t fucking stop, I’m gonna come!” I raised my head and grinned at him. With a hearty laugh, he guided my mouth to his, opening his mouth and sucking his precum off my tongue.

He stood up and lifted me to my feet. With gentle pressure on the small of my back, he steered me down the hall to my bedroom. Once we were in the narrow passage, he pressed me to the wall and ravaged me with deep kisses.

He pinched my nipples and traced my upraised arms all the way to my fingertips. We clasped hands and reached for the ceiling together. His passion was overpowering, and I knew his love-making would be furious and intense.

Rubbing his nose into each of my armpits, he slathered them with his tongue. He pinned me in place with his powerful chest. His fingers tickled down my back and fondled my ass-cheeks.

“Mmm.” I moaned.

“You like that, do you?”

“Hell, yes, I love it. Don’t fucking stop.” He lowered his head and began biting my nipples, sending ripples of ecstasy through my body. At the same time, he closed his hot fingers around my erection, taking possession that I did not resist.

Done with my nipples, he fell to his knees and, in one smooth motion, sucked my hard-on into his mouth, burying his nose in my pubes. Without moving his head at all, he took my cock into his throat and massaged it with his tongue. Pulling it deeper down his throat and sliding it back out, he squeezed it by pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

All I could do was stand there panting, letting this formidable, dominant man take everything he wanted from me and more. He used his hands, rough from hard work—hands that held and fired a gun, hands that could knock a man down, disable him, and cuff him in one overwhelming use of force.

And yet, with one of those sturdy hands, he tenderly fondled my balls. Rolling them in his fingertips, he stretched them to their full length and closed his fist around the top of them. This man was capable of intense strength and also the softest touch.

I found my voice. “Ahh! Ahh! Fuck yes!” I panted. “Take me, Winston, take me and use me!” I threw my head back and closed my eyes. I’d been having sex with men for years, but this was the first one who ever took command of the love-making, overcoming me with passion and fury, leaving no doubt who was in charge. And I loved that Winston was in charge!

Sucking my cock deeper into his mouth, he reached behind me and spread my ass-cheeks wide. He thrust his hand up the crack, aiming for my unguarded hole. When one finger hit home on my quivering pucker, Winston encircled it, feinting and thrusting with a determination that drove me wild with desire and anticipation—and a bit of dread.

There was no doubt he was going to take me, own me, and fill me. All I needed to do was relax and let it happen. He was going to have me, and my sole defense was to let him do it—and I intended to enjoy every second of it!

I pressed my ass backward against the wall, forcing his finger deep inside me, groaning, “Oh, shit! Oh, fuck! Yes!”

He hefted me up off the floor, grasping my butt in both his hands with one finger still planted in the occupied territory. I wrapped my legs around his waist, put my arms around his neck, and locked lips with my conqueror. I offered my unconditional surrender, and he took it ruthlessly.

Holding me as if I weighed nothing, he turned toward the bedroom, carried me across the threshold, and lightly deposited me on the bed. I clung to him with my arms and legs like a baby possum. Something told me Winston was going to bring out all my animal instincts.

Motionless, I stretched out full-length, exposing my nakedness and powerlessness before this gentle giant with his erect hardness pulsing with need and aimed directly at its target for the night.

My bed didn’t rotate or have a mirror over it, but this was going to be our love-nest of passion and romance tonight—and, I hoped, for many nights to come.

Instinctively, I lifted my knees, pulled my feet high, and grasped them with both hands into a wide V-shape. I was conceding my tenderest and hungriest part for him to do anything he wanted. My heart was pounding and my breath was coming in pants as I eagerly waited for what I knew was next.

My asshole trembled with anticipation as Winston leaned forward and planted his face between my cheeks. His five o’clock shadow grated on my tender skin, but the abrasion only made me shiver with delight. After so many years, so many lovers, I was going to be fucked by a real man!

His tongue assaulted my hole, invading deep inside and circling it with dripping saliva. I was amazed at how far he could inject his multitalented muscle within me! He licked from the base of my balls, down to my pucker and beyond, laying claim to every square inch of the territory he now controlled.

He drew back and I braced myself for his first volley. The head of his giant cock began exploring the territory already soaked and moistened by his tongue. He tormented me by slapping his erection against my cheeks and crack. I wanted him inside me so much I couldn’t stand it.

“Take me, Winston! Take me! FUCK ME!” I begged.

Without a word, he leaned in firmly, and my hole grudgingly yielded to his thick manhood. Never varying its resolute but caring advance, his hard-on penetrated me and pressed on and on—and I happily submitted to his gentle but persistent domination. I closed my eyes tight, gritted my teeth, and held my breath.

What I wouldn’t have given for a little bottle of poppers! The pain was searing, but I bore it because it was what I wanted more than anything. I knew that it would pass quickly, and it would be worth it.

The blazing heat of his naked thighs burned against my ass cheeks, confirming that he was fully inside me, exactly where I wanted him. Like an army retreating strategically to draw the aggressor in, I had lured him into my trap, and now I was going to ride him like a bucking bronco.

That’s it, Winston. Fill me up. Take what you want and give me what I need. I’m yours, body and soul.

I opened my eyes and found his face poised above my own, smiling.

“I don’t know how much you wanted this to happen, Bruce, but for me, it’s been so long in coming. I want to stop right here and stay like this forever.”

“Whatever you say, officer!” I raised my hands with a grin. “I give up!”

With a kindly smile, he pressed his lips to mine. I could taste his sweet breath, plus a little saltiness from perspiration. I draped both arms around his neck and clung to him.

I lowered my knees, crossed my ankles above his back, and got ready for the ride of my life. Taking my signal as permission to have his way with me, my new lover began moving inside me—with care at first, to see what I could bear.

I moaned ecstatically, rocking my body back and forth to match his thrusts. I meant to give him all the pleasure he desired while seizing every bit I could get for myself.

Realizing how much I wanted him and how much of him I could take, Winston let himself go. Picking up speed, he soon drove his cock into me like a jackhammer destroying pavement. He pounded my willing asshole with the full weight of his body immobilizing me on the bed as I held on for dear life.

He fucked me in silence for a long time with his eyes closed and his breathing strictly controlled, like a sniper waiting to take the perfect shot. I pictured how he must be at the firing range—his entire body attuned to every sight and sound, coiled tight like a spring, intent upon nailing his target, and squeezing the trigger millimeter by millimeter until—.

His body trembled and went rigid, and I relaxed completely. Deep inside my ass, a deluge of fiery liquid flooded into me—his ultimate conquest and my willing surrender. We lay there transfixed, unmoving, breathing in tiny gasps.

Time stood still, but after some incalculable interval, Winston relaxed, inhaled deeply, opened his eyes, and looked into mine. He smiled, and his body softened as he took his weight off me.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you,” he said, finding his voice. I realized I had been the one making all the noise and saying all the dirty words while we were engaged in a battle of monumental proportions.

“That was fucking intense!” I said. “But it was also wonderful. I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

My lover chuckled. “I guess I do get a little wrapped up in what I’m doing. Was it good for you?”

I laughed. “Of course it was good for me! I would have begged you to stop if I wasn’t enjoying the hell out of it.”

He moved to get off me, but I tightened my hold. “Please stay where you are a while. I want the feeling to last.”

“I’m kinda heavy—”

“I want you to treat me like some perp you’ve knocked down and pinned to the ground. I love your power over me and want to feel totally defenseless in your custody.”

“Hell, I wish perps really did behave like that!”

Winston allowed his body to rest on mine. His hands cradled my head and lifted my face to his. Our mouths met, and we traded loving kisses.

When I could tell Winston was tiring of the position, I moved my ass a bit, and his long, soft cock, coated with his jism, glided out like a Moray eel slithering out of its hideout.

Winston rolled onto his back, still holding me tight, so I ended up stretched out on top of him.

“Now, it’s your turn,” he said, kissing me on the nose.


“I got off, so it’s your turn. What position do you want me in?”

I was floored. “I–I can’t fuck you.”

“What? Why the hell not? I got my rocks off, so I wanna take care of yours.”

I gave him a kiss and a big smile. “Well, first of all, you fucking giant, I doubt I can get hard, considering the beating my ass just took.”

His expression turned sad, tinged with regret.

I reassured him. “I don’t mean it was bad in any way, but it took damn near everything out of me. I’m exhausted, Winston—worn out, defeated, pooped, drained!”

Hopeful, he offered, “Well, how about in a few minutes or half an hour?”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t count on it. I’m not exaggerating, man. That was more of a workout than I’ve gotten in all of the past year.”

He hung his head like a kid who has done something bad.

“Hey, don’t get me wrong, babe. I loved every second of it, and I’d love it even more if you would come back every day and do it again.” He brightened a bit. “But it...that is...well, I guess I’ve given all I’ve got.”

“I’m sorry. I was too hard on you.”

“Winston, your hardness is what I loved the most!” We both laughed at my double-entendre. “I can honestly say I’ve never had sex like we just had. I realize I’ve never been fucked by a real man until you, and I’d like to hold on to the feeling and let my body return to something resembling normal.”

“Are you sure? I can get you off—” In desperation, he reached for my cock, but I wrapped my hand around his, stopping him.

“I’m sure, babe. Don’t worry about a thing. This was great for me. How was it for you?”

“I feel like I ran a goddamn marathon!” Winston pulled me to his chest and rubbed my back all the way from the top of my head to my ass. “This was something I’ve wanted to do with you for years, and I can’t believe we did finally it.”

I relaxed, stretched out full-length on top of his massive, muscular body, sighed with contentment, and lay my head on his breast.

I heard his heart beating and felt the lift of every breath he took. For the first time in a long, long time, I realized I had nothing to worry about, nothing to fear. I was in the arms of a man who wanted me, a man who I satisfied sexually, a man who cared what happened to me and would take care of me.

It occurred to me I had forgotten all about David, and I resolved never to think of him again, but I corrected myself. I decided to remember the good times, the good things David and I did together, the intimacy between us, and forget the shitty way he dumped me.

Mom was right—it was all part of life—my life—and I was going to incorporate it into every day of my future going forward. And forward is the only direction I was going from that day on.

I couldn’t imagine where this thing with the handsome detective might go. I had a suspicion he would be in deep shit if anybody found out he had fucked the person he was supposed to be protecting, and maybe the police department was anti-gay and would kick him out if they knew about us. I made a mental note to ask him.

We got up and walked into my living room naked.



“I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I’ve never been fucked like that before.”

“I can believe it.”

“Hunh? Why?”

“Well, excuse me for saying this, and I don’t mean to put down your other lovers, but you’ve hung out with a bunch of pussies—guys who couldn’t fight their way out of a paper bag. No offense to them, but I’m telling it the way it is.”

I thought it over. “I guess you’re right, although, to tell the truth, I’m kind of a pussy myself. It only took one punch for Carl to deck me and land me in the hospital—twice!”

“That asshole took you by surprise both times. What he did was grab a chance to hurt you. Face-to-face, he knew you’d outsmart him, humiliate him, and make him feel like the worthless piece of shit he is.”

I thought about that. There was something I had to ask. “What is it about me that attracts you? Some sort of big brother-protector complex?” Suddenly, I was afraid I had offended him, but I looked into his eyes and only saw kindness.

“You really want to know?”

“Hell, yes, I want to know.”

Winston kissed me and whispered, “Bruce, I’ve had a rough life. I came up hard, fought my way to where I am, and I have to fucking fight every day to keep from turning into one of those goddamn creeps I arrest.”

He paused. “It’s like I’m torn in two, between wanting to do good and uphold the law and what’s right—and on the other hand wanting to kill every one of those bastards with my bare hands.”

He gave me a look of love. “You’re everything I’m not, Bruce. I want to be close to you because you remind me there is good in the world, when all I see day after day is bad shit.”

Winston’s words scared me a little. If he was going to depend on me to represent “good in the world,” then I was pretty sure I would disappoint him at some time or other.

Seeing the look on my face, he hastened to add, “Look, Bruce, I know you’re an ordinary person, just like everyone else, but there’s something in you—some kindness or concern for others, that I can spot a mile away because it’s something I rarely see. I’m not trying to lay a burden on you. I’m just answering your question about what first attracted me to you.”

I was stunned. No one had ever told me anything like this about myself, and I didn’t know how to react.

“You...you see something in me?” was all I could say.

“I sure do. You have a way of treating everybody like you trust them to be their best.”

“You mean I’m naïve? That’s why dudes like Carl can walk all over me, and lovers like David can just throw me away when they’re done with me?”

Buchanan looked shocked. “Hell, no. That’s not what I’m saying.”

He looked down, thinking, then continued, “Dammit, this is coming out all wrong. What I mean is...I run into scumbags all day, every day. Some of them are sociopaths, psychopaths, and worse. They have no regard for humanity or anybody but themselves. And they usually hate themselves, too, come to think of it.”

He looked horrible, like a drowning man. I reached out and drew him into a hug and whispered, “Listen, this thing is new and completely different for me, too. You’re right—I’ve never been with a real man like you. All my previous lovers were nice enough, but it’s like they were missing a whole dimension. They were only part alive, part real. You’re the real deal!”

He laughed at that, and we both relaxed. Then Winston became serious again. “So, where do we go with this...this—whatever the hell it is—we have?”

I thought a moment. “Well, I guess that depends a lot on you. I mean, you’re a cop, a detective. I imagine your ass would be in deep shit if anybody knew you were hanging out with a pussy like me—a guy who likes guys.”

“As long as we don’t flaunt it, that won’t be a problem. The department started looking the other way about same-sex couples two years ago, and several officers are in partnered relationships.” He winked, “In fact, I used to be in one.”

My eyes and my mouth both opened wide. “No shit?”

“No shit. It’s considered personal, and nobody questions it any more as long as you don’t go around announcing it. Oh, sure, there are a few hard-liners who are still quietly against it, but if anyone tries to use it as an excuse to deny a promotion or refuses to have a gay partner on the job, HR goes after them like a house on fire.”

“It sounds ideal.”

“Well, it’s informal, so it could change at any time. I kinda hope some day it’ll be official policy, but I’m not expecting anything for quite a while.”

“So...what exactly is the problem?”

“You just named it—you’re my protectee, and as long as that’s true, I should not be having any kind of relationship with you other than ensuring your safety.

“Well, isn’t that over now that Carl is locked up?”

“Technically, yes. But until all the legal bullshit is through, including any appeals, you’re still officially under police protection.”

“Can’t someone else be assigned to do that?”

His eyes widened. “Shit! Why the hell didn’t I think of that?” He gave me a big hug. “I’ll get to work on that first thing in the morning. I know just the guys—another gay couple!”

The warm spring night closed in on us, enrobing us in deep conversation as we sat naked on my balcony. No one was aware of us, and the time passed so slowly that I was surprised when Winston glanced at his watch.

“Damn! I gotta be in the office in four hours!”

“How’d it get so late?”

“I guess we just got to talking and forgot about the time.” We got up and returned to the bedroom. He put his clothes on while I simply slipped a bathrobe around me.

With many more kisses, I escorted him to the door for the second time that day (or was it yesterday?). I followed him to the stairwell and watched through the tall windows as he got into his car, waved, and drove off.

Wow! What a man! I can’t believe he is with me. I think...no, make that I know I’m in love. The only thing I want from now on is this wonderful, powerful, sensitive, strong man in my life.

If I were Bruce’s therapist, I’d have him think about why he bounces so quickly from one lover to the next. Is it a sign that he didn’t get enough love from his father? Or is it a way to compensate for perceived failure in other aspects of his life? Maybe we’ll see as things unfold between him and Winston in the next chapter. #weargreenonthursday

Copyright © 2023 Tim Hobson; All Rights Reserved.
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As a writer, I live for reader responses—the reaction emojis and especially the comments. I also welcome direct messages (DMs) on the GA website. If you like (or hate) what you’re reading, let me know. If you have hopes for the direction that the story—and Bruce’s life—might take, please share them. And if you want to reminisce about your own experiences at that age, I bet we’d all enjoy hearing them!

Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental. Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

On 3/16/2023 at 2:40 PM, Tim Hobson said:

Wow! Believe it or not, I had forgotten about the place where it all started. Yes, he is a long way from the heady days with Craig.

Good to have folks reminding you? Those who forget history…

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56 minutes ago, Dan South said:

Good to have folks reminding you? Those who forget history…

Oh, but there is a bit of history that I wouldn't mind repeating!

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Dhat was quite a chapter. A quick jump from screaming about David to being in bed with Winston. Bruce has a ways to go. Maybe Winston will be the older guy he needs to get his life on track. 

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On 3/16/2023 at 4:29 PM, drsawzall said:

Bruce is like a shallow river a mile wide and an inch deep...I almost think Winston is too good for him in some respects...I have to temper my opinion with understanding he's got a long...long...long way to go to find the maturity that eventually hits most of us...like a ton of bricks

I agree. At this stage Winston is the solid one and Bruce is floundering. 

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He would have been the solid trellis upon which the creeping rose may have flourished. 

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33 minutes ago, Doha said:

He would have been the solid trellis upon which the creeping rose may have flourished. 

How poetic! And how tragic that he died. Such is life...

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Just now, Tim Hobson said:

How poetic! And how tragic that he died. Such is life...

Yep. As they say in these parts, "What to do". 

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It's good that Bruce, after several days/weeks from Hell, is in a place and hopefully relationship to help him to finish out his current college experience.

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16 hours ago, Dhpiet77 said:

It's good that Bruce, after several days/weeks from Hell, is in a place and hopefully relationship to help him to finish out his current college experience.

Winston seems to be just what Bruce needs now. Let's hope it lasts.

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Rebound relationships rarely last.

Did anybody clean up the answering machine/wine bottle mess? Lol.

Winston wanted this for a while so his emotional investment may be as quick to surface as Bruce’s, yet more tempered.

Welp….let’s see what happens. 


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6 hours ago, FanLit said:

Rebound relationships rarely last.

Did anybody clean up the answering machine/wine bottle mess? Lol.

Winston wanted this for a while so his emotional investment may be as quick to surface as Bruce’s, yet more tempered.

Welp….let’s see what happens. 


I think you're going to like what happens. Bruce's life should be more stable now.

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