Date: Thu, 12 Jan 2006 14:37:03 EST
From: RitchChristopher@cs.com
Subject: briarwood:briarwood-u-56

All rights reserved. Copyright held by the author. If you are underage or
are offended by gay fiction, containing graphic sex and explicit language,
please exit now.



                                  "BRIARWOOD"
                            Copyright Ritchris, 2005

                          aka "Whence Cometh My Help"
                            Copyright Ritchris, 2003

                                Revised Version

                                A dramatic saga

                                      by

			        Ritch Christopher

                                  <><><><><>


		   	            BOOK SIX


                                  "BRIARWOOD U"

			        Chapter-Fifty-six

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>


	Jim awoke the next morning with a stiff neck, having slept only
three hours in a reclining chair in the den. It took a few minutes for him
to focus on his surroundings and realized what had prompted him not to
sleep in his bed. Jim's first thought concerned the houseguest sleeping in
the guestroom. His first impulse was to run down the hall to make sure Tom
hadn't made a quiet exit while Jim slept. Instead, Jim tiptoed and eased
the door open and he saw Tom asleep in the bed, his covers half thrown off
in the floor, which Tom needed to hide his morning boner lying taut against
his muscled abs. Normally, Jim wouldn't have looked at the erect member
because, being a coach, he was used to seeing naked males daily, some with
erections but mostly those that didn't. But somehow, watching this male who
had grown so close to Jim in the late night hours, he felt a sense of
complacency as if he had just peeked in to check on his own son to see if
he was all right.

	"Do we have guests?" Nina asked from the hallway. Jim hadn't
noticed her behind him.

	"One." he replied.

	"Oh?"

	"Tom, Tom Summerfield. You know, the boy who didn't show up for
dinner last night."

	"What'd he do? Come by late for leftovers?" Nina joked,

	"No, it's a long story, Let's go into the kitchen and I'll tell you
all about it I had quite a night after you went to bed." Jim said.

	"Maybe I should've stayed up and not missed all the fun." she
replied.

	"Oh, it wasn't fun, believe me."

	"Would you like some breakfast?"

	"Yes, please...Just oatmeal, toast, and coffee."

	"Aye, aye, sir."

	"Thanks, honey. Don't go away, you haven't given me my good morning
kiss." Jim said, pulling her toward him.

	"Closed mouth! You know the rules. No serious kissing in the
morning without mouthwash." she said.

	"Sorry, my lips are sealed." Nina leaned into Jim a gave him a
little peck on the mouth. "Thanks," he said, and gave her a slight swat on
the butt.

	"Now tell me about how Tom Sawyer wound up in the guestroom."

	Jim kept his voice as low as he could, not wanting Tom to hear
accidentally, what he was saying, but Jim spent the better part of the next
ten minutes giving Nina all the details about the Dean's late call, his
going to the jail to pick up Tom, and the long ride home. He did not
mention any reference to Tom's sexual problem, nor did he express the
intimacy he felt while holding Tom as he went to sleep. Jim wasn't really
lying to Nina, he just wasn't telling her every detail. She was curious
though as to why Jim had brought Tom home as opposed to taking him back to
his dorm.

	"It was late and he'd been in a fight." Jim explained. "I didn't
know if he had internal injuries and after Tom had refused to let me take
him to the hospital emergency room, I saw no problem in bringing him home
to watch him, just in case...you know."

	"Jim, you know I don't mind, I was just curious if he was high on
drugs or alcohol?"

	"Nope, he doesn't do drugs, and to be honest with you, he might
have had one beer too many, but he wasn't drunk by any standard,"

	"Well, now that he's here, what are you going to do with him? Is he
going to practice with you at noon?"

	"I'm gonna talk to him about it when he wakes up."

	"I'm awake," said Tom's voice from the hallway outside the kitchen,
Jim hoped to God Tom hadn't heard the conversation with Nina, although Jim
had not revealed any of Tom's secrets, so he shouldn't have been
embarrassed to meet her. Tom came in the kitchen and stood there for a
moment sizing up Nina and Jim, together.

	"Come in. Tom. I want you to meet my wife, Nina. Nina...Tom."

	"Hi, Tom," Nina said.

	"Ma'am." Tom said, nodding his head. Damn! At least he remembered
his manners. Jim was so used to Tom's sarcasm and negativity, Jim wasn't
sure how he would act around Nina.

	"Would you like breakfast?" Nina asked.

	"Just juice, please, if you have some." Tom replied.

	"Name your poison, mister," Nina said, as if she were talking to
me, "Orange, Grapefruit, Tomato, Prune...what'll it be?"

	"Tomato, please...and some salt and ice cubes." Tom said.

	"Come on, sit down, and be part of the family," Jim said to him.

	"Thank you, sir."

	My God, did the kid have a split personality? All this 'sir' and
'maam' business took me for quite a surprise. This was not the same kid Jim
seen a few hours ago at the Police Station. For a split second, Jim
wondered if Tom MIGHT be bipolar.

	"I said we needed to have a talk this morning, but I'm due at the
football field around noon...probably later because some of the team go to
church with their families."

	"You don't go to church?" Tom asked.

	"Usually, I do, but when I've got a game as important as the one
coming this weekend, I sometimes skip mass. My assistant coaches and their
wives, as well as Nina and I, go to St. Genesius Anglican.  The rector
there, Father Cliff, as we call him, is a big supporter of the BU
team. He's practically one of the family. I want you to talk with him some
time.  He had a vast knowledge of many subjects of personal interest." Jim
hinted, concerning Tom's problem he had revealed to him. "How about you?
Are you religious?"

	"Hell, I mean, 'heck', no. Pardon me, Mrs. Kerr." he said,
apologizing.

	"Hey, listen, Tom, when you're at school and see me as a teacher,
I'll be Mrs. Kerr to you, but when you've slept in my guestroom and I'm
pouring juice for you at the breakfast table, my name is Nina. I'm just one
of the guys when I'm home around Jim and his team members. You ARE gonna
play quarterback for Jim, aren't you?" Nina said. Jim could have kissed her
the way she had phrased her sentence.

	"I...I don't know." Tom stammered.

	"Look, according to what Jim says, the team needs you. How often in
life can you turn down something or someone that needs you? That's what
makes you feel really important...to be needed."

	Nina was doing fine. Jim sat back and let her do his persuading for
him.

	"I don't know if I'm still any good." Tom said.

	"You can still throw a football, can't you?"

	"Yes, maam."

	"And you know all the rules about playing, don't you?"

	"I guess."

	"And I don't have to ask...I can see you're physically fit...unless
you have some psychological problem that doesn't show," she continued.

	"Well, none that I can speak about anyway."

	"Even if you did, a good psychologist would tell you the best thing
to quell neurosis or psychosis is to get involved with a group...especially
an athletic group if one is available. Sports are good for the mind, soul,
and body."

	"Yes, maam."

	"Then, tell me why you're so uncertain about playing quarterback?"

	"I just have a couple of personal problems I have to cope with
first."

	"You have a problem and you're a quarterback? Take out your
frustration on the other team's defense. That's what Jim tells his
players. I've heard him say it over and over when he had team members here
at the house for dinner. I'm only quoting him."

	"Hear! Hear!" Jim said, toasting Nina with his coffee cup. In
twelve years, Jim had never seen this side to Nina. She knew how
desperately her husband needed Tom for the team and she was doing her best
to see that Jim got what he wanted. For an instant Jim wondered how she
would've felt if he had told her he wanted or needed a son...but the
thought passed quickly.

	"Now that I've broken the ice and laid the groundwork for you, I'll
leave and go to the market to shop for dinner. Do you think you'll be
staying for dinner, Tom?" Nina asked, gathering her purse and car keys.

	"Probably not." Tom replied, after a furtive glance Jim's way.

	"Why not? Besides, I owe you a meal for the one you missed last
night, and in return you owe me an evening of your conversation which I
missed last night...whaddya say?"

	"Oh, all right, thanks."

	"Good!!! Pork chops? Lamb chops? Beef? No! No beef, you missed out
on the prime rib last night so there'll be no beef for you tonight. Fair is
fair. How about a fresh turkey?"

	"Hamburgers would be fine." Tom said.

	"No, that's beef! What's your second choice, and please don't say,
'ham sandwiches'!"

	"All right, lamb chops, if they're not too much trouble."

	"The only trouble I seem to have is making sure you'll be here when
I'm finished cooking. Do you promise me that you'll be here?"

	"Yes, maam."

	"Good! Lamb chops with mint sauce coming up!" Nina said, as she
went out the door to the car.

	"Wow! She comes on strong, doesn't she?" Tom said, after she had
left. "But in a nice way," he explained.

	"Tom, I swear to you, I've never seen Nina like that in all the
years I've known her...You seem to've brought out a new side in her that
I've never seen...You seem to've brought out a few things in me, too."

	"Oh, you mean, this morning?...On the bed?" he said, flinching at
the answer I might give to him.

	"Precisely." Jim said.

	"Look, Coach, I'm real sorry for putting you in such an
embarrassing situation. I don't know what came over me. Maybe the guy at
the bar had jarred something loose inside my head."

	"That's your excuse...what's mine?" Jim said.

	"Oh, you didn't behave badly. It was me."

	"I've never held a man before, like I held you this morning, It was
a first for me." Jim replied.

	"I'm sorry if it upset you."

	"I didn't say it upset me, I just said, I'd never done it before."

	"And you're embarrassed?"

	"No. I'm not sure how I felt. Or how I feel now."

	"I've been held by straight men before, but under different
circumstances."

	"You mean when you were having sex with them?"

	"Sometimes...usually. It's just that...well, last night, I wanted
to be held. It wasn't you, personally, I just wanted SOMEBODY to hold me."

	"I guess the thing that's bothering me the most, Tom, is that I
WANTED to hold you."

	"And you let your emotions get away from you, didn't you."

	"I suppose that's what happened...but then, it was more than
that. Now this is really embarrassing, but the whole time I was holding you
in my arms, I felt myself getting sexually aroused...and that's what
bothered me. It wasn't just the holding you, it was what else was happening
to me."

	"Coach, don't let it get to you. All men have a certain amount of
'bi' in them."

	"I'd never noticed it before. I've been a coach for over seven
years. I work side by side with guys. I rub their sore muscles, I bandage
their legs, sometimes I even shower with them, even put ice on their
testicles. I see them naked and never before have I felt anything out of
the ordinary. But, you, it's like the way Nina acted just now...you brought
out a side of me I'd never experienced before."

	"How do you feel about me right now?" Tom asked.

	"I'm not sure. Since I've never actually coached you and you've
never been a student in one of my classes, you're like some stranger that's
entered into my life that I met one night and the following evening you're
sleeping naked in my house and it's dark and I found myself holding you
while you cried on my shoulder."

	"You're not questioning your masculinity because of your actions,
are you?"

	"I don't think so, but I'm guilty of feeling things I've never felt
before and doing things I've never had any desire to do. How do you explain
that?"

	"Shit! Maybe you were just horny. Chalk it up to that! Haven't you
ever been to a movie, or even a porno flick, for that matter, and seen a
guy making love to a woman...and found yourself getting a hard-on? Are you
getting hard because you're looking at the naked woman or are you hard
because you're imagining the size dick the man has, that he wants to stick
into her. Don't tell me you wouldn't look at a man's dick if it was hard!
All guys do, no matter whether they're straight or gay. Haven't you ever
been in a restroom and some guy is standing at the urinal next to yours?
Didn't you ever feel the urge to peek over and see if his dick was bigger
than yours? Then how did you feel. Were you glad his was smaller or did you
envy him because yours wasn't as big as his. Hell, man! All guys do that!"

	"Yeah, but I didn't hold them in the moonlight while they were
naked, lying in my bed."

	"Let me ask you something, personally, and I'd like a straight
answer. You're straight so I expect a straight answer!"

	"Go ahead," Jim said.

	"This morning, while you were holding me, did you think I wanted to
have sex with you? Did you that that was my ulterior motive?"

	"I'll be honest. The thought DID occur to me." Jim said.

	"And what if I HAD wanted to have sex with you. Would you have hit
me or just run out the door?"

	"I don't know. I'd probably have left you, somehow, without hurting
your feelings."

	"OK! Then no damage was done! Your masculinity is safe, along with
your manly virtue!"

	"That still doesn't explain my arousal." Jim said.

	"Here, let me put your mind at ease. Stand up." Tom said, taking
charge.

	"What?"

	"Stand up. I want to try an experiment with you. OK?"

	"OK." I stood up and he did, also.

	"Now, put your arms around me." he said.

	"This is ridiculous." Jim said.

	"No, it's not. I'm trying to help you understand. OK? Play along
with me for a minute, will you...Now, put your arms around me."

	Hesitantly, Jim obliged and put his arms around Tom. Tom
counteracted Jim's movement by putting his arms around Jim. They were face
to face, only three or four inches separating their lips. Once again, Jim
could feel himself sinking into Tom's jade green eyes. But that wasn't all
that was happening. The feeling in Jim's loins was mounting as they had
earlier in the guestroom. He didn't have half an erection. Jim was
sprouting a full-fledged boner. He knew Tom was as aware of what was
happening to him as Jim was. Jim knew that if their two bodies suddenly
separated, his swollen crotch would be visible to both of them. Instead of
embarrassing Jim by pulling back, he surprised the hell out of Jim by
leaning forward, pressing his lips on Jim's. Jim froze with fright. He'd
never been in this kind of situation and didn't know how to react. Jim's
male instinct was to break away and knock Tom down with his fist. But some
hidden instinct made Jim choose to stay and respond. Jim's arms ran up and
down Tom's back. Toms arms mimicked Jim's reactions except Tom's righthand
went lower than Jim's and he guided it to the front of Jim's crotch where
he gripped Jim's fully erect penis. Jim exhaled with release when Tom
touched him. Tom's tongue was prying Jim's lips open and Jim felt the rush
of Tom's warm breath and saliva as they entered Jim's mouth at the same
time. Jim's tongue began jousting Tom's for territory... whose tongue would
go where next?  It didn't matter. Jim's only thought was how could he face
Tom and what would he say after the moment ended? Finally, Jim managed to
pull away.

	"We'd better stop!" Jim said.

	"Why?"

	"Tom, whatever just happened, CAN'T happen!" Jim said.

	"Why not?"

	"Because...just because...that's why. I'm a teacher, a coach, a
man. You're my student...and you're a man. I don't do that kind of thing."

	"MEN do, you know."

	"Maybe so, but I'm not one of them."

	"Why did you get hard then?"

	"I don't know and I don't want to know." Jim said, trying to bring
some sanity back to an impossible situation. After what had just happened,
Jim realized it was he, not Tom, who needed to have a private session with
Father Cliff. His physical response to the two encounters with Tom troubled
him. Jim kept telling himself, that an erection was, or could be, a normal
reaction any man might have in the same circumstances. Jim thought it best
if he changed the subject. "Can we try to compose ourselves and talk about
football?"

	"Sure...let's talk," Tom said.

	"Is there any way I can talk you into to playing quarterback for
me?"

	"Sure...just ask."

	"Then, will you?"

	"Sure."

	Jim was suspicious of Tom's changed attitude and wondering if Tom
was playing him for a sap.

	"Why are you so suddenly agreeing when you were so opposed to the
idea yesterday?"

	"That's before I got to know you," Tom said.

	"Look, Tom, I can't explain what happened between us just now, but
you've got to know, there will be no more occurrences such as that one. Is
that clear?" Jim said, regaining control.

	"Sure."

	"I mean, do YOU understand?"

	"Sure."

	"And you're still willing to play, knowing that those are the
rules?"

	"Sure."

	"All right, Are you ready to go to practice?"

	"Sure."

	"Do you want to get anything you might have left in the bedroom?"

	"No, I'll get it later when I come home with you for dinner."

	"Tom, you must understand that Nina must never know about what
happened between us?"

	"What? And let her know that I like guys? You're the only person
who knows for sure. I don't believe the police believed me last night, so
my secret is in your hands and your secret is...well, you know who knows
about your secret...and I promise not to tell, either."

	Once again, when Jim reached the football field, Bud and Dan had
beaten him there. They were talking with Harm who was already dressed out
for practice. The three of them looked very surprised when Jim drove up
with Tom. On the drive over, Tom hadn't mentioned the preceding bedroom
antics once. Instead their conversation had focused on football and how
important the rest of the games of the season were. Tom followed Jim to
meet the guys.

	"Bud, Dan, Harm, I want you to formally meet our last night's
dinner guest. He's a little late but he's here."

	The four of them shook hands and exchanged greetings.

	"Harm, I want you to take Tom into the locker room and suit him up
in full gear. He's going to practice with us all afternoon. Isn't that
right, Tom?" Jim said, pushing him for an affirmative answer.

	"Yes, Coach, "Tom replied.

	"And Harm? Bring out my master play book.  We're gonna pick out a
dozen or two of the best ones and run them back to back."

	"Yes sir!" Harm said, taking Tom by the shoulder and leading him to
the locker room.

	"What made him change his mind?" Dan asked.

	"He didn't! I sorta changed it for him." Jim said. "It's a long
story but the kid got into a little trouble with the police last
night. Nothing serious. There were no charges brought against him. I
received a call from Dean Connelly asking that I go retrieve the prodigal
son from the depths of the dungeon. I made a deal with him that I wouldn't
tell the team about the incident if he would practice with us today."

	"I noticed a few cuts and bruises on his face and the making of a
shiner. What'd you do, beat him up?" Bud asked.

	"No, there was a sign around his neck at the police station saying,
"Take him, 'as is'". So I nabbed him from the bargain basement and took him
home to patch him up. He spent the night in the guestroom."

	"Do you think he feels well enough to play or at least practice?"
Dan asked.

	"Take my word for it, he's in extremely good physical condition."
Jim said, before thinking. He hoped he hadn't said too much to arouse any
suspicion.

	The rest of the team was sauntering onto the field one by one or in
groups of twos. They must've seen Tom in the locker room and were all
puzzled by his unscheduled appearance. They began tossing the ball across
the field and doing a few warm-up exercises. Harm had not yet returned with
Tom when Jim called the team over for a conference.

	"Listen, guys." Jim began. "Today, we're going to be trying out Tom
Summerfield for the quarterback position. Now, in high school he broke all
kinds of state records, but he's a bit rusty.  I don't want any of the
defense to hold back when you charge him. That's up to the offense to
protect him. But, at the same time, I don't want to see you trample him
either. I don't want to discourage him on his first outing. What you saw
him do yesterday...well, I hoping it was no accident. If Tom can deliver
like I think he can, then we might be able to salvage what's left of our
season."

	The coach's little speech pumped them up a bit and they showed more
enthusiasm than they had during the past three weeks. Jim realized, even
without Tom being present, he had placed a weighty load on his back,
probably including his job as coach. So Tom had to come through for many
reasons.

	A few minutes later, Tom and Harm came running onto the field. The
uniform fit Tom perfectly.  The green jersey made his green eyes stand
out. Even if one didn't go for guys, he'd have to admit Tom was a handsome
hunk. Jim paused to wonder if his looks had turned him on as he was still
searching for an answer for his unorthodox behavior at home. Jim asked the
two of them to come up in front of the team and stand three feet apart and
look at one another.

	"Tom, Harm, I want you to look each other over. Look into each
other's eyes. I want you to get to know one another because, for the rest
of the day and as long as the two of you play on the same team, from now on
you are partners, best pals, lovers, husband and wife, or any other way you
want to refer to yourselves. You've got to think on the same wave
link. You've got to delve in each others minds until you know what the
other is thinking. Everything the rest of the team does depends on your
marriage. All plays begin when the center snaps the ball to the
quarterback. You all know the rules, if anyone of the team starts to play
or move before you do, then the whole team is penalized. You are the
nucleus. The rest of the team are ions, protons, and neutrons, scrambling
to get in the right place at the right time. Is that understood?"

	They both replied, "Yes sir!"

	"Let me hear it from the entire team."

	The team responded with a resounding, "YES SIR!!!"

	"OK, now," Jim continued. "Harm, turn to page fifteen in the play
book and let Tom read it. Tom, if you have any questions, shout it out
now. I want to run no less than two dozen plays this afternoon. If the play
doesn't work, then we'll run it until it DOES work!"

	Tom went into a private huddle with Harm and the two of them
discussed the play briefly. Tom nodded when he thought he had the grasp of
it.

	The team assumed play formation and Tom made the call, "On
two. Ready? Hut, hut, hut, four, three, two!"  It was a simple play where
Tom would toss the ball to Phil who would be about ten feet in front of the
center. The defense pushed hard to reach Tom, but the offense did their
jobs and protected him while the play worked like a top. Both the defense
and offense were encouraged when everything worked just right, the way Dan,
Bud, and Jim had planned it.

	The coaches flipped through the pages of the play book, one by one
for the next three hours. It was the best practice the team ever had. Randy
had been right in his assessment of last Friday's game. All the team needed
was a quarterback, and, by God, it looked like we'd found one. By four
o'clock, Tom was everyone's hero. They were slapping him on the back,
tapping on his helmet, and shouting words of praise to him. Tom looked at
Jim with a winning smile at his acceptance of his fellow teammates. His
perfect pearly whites gleamed and Jim felt myself melting inside.

	'Jesus! What the fuck was wrong with him? Did guys actually turn
gay late in life? Of course not!', Jim tried to convince himself that he
was just worked up because the practice had gone so well.

	The team, pleased with itself, headed off the field toward the
showers. Dan and Bud crowded Jim, offering congratulations when Jim felt a
tap on my shoulder.

	"Hey, coach." It was Tom. "I didn't bring any clean clothes or
underwear with me. Do you think it would be all right if I showered in the
dorm?"

	Jim had halfway anticipated this because he remembered Tom's fear
of showering with the team.

	"Sure, Tom, that'll be fine. Wear your uniform to the dorm and you
can bring it back with you tomorrow afternoon at practice."

	"Thank you, sir." he said.

	"If you like, I'll drive you to the dorm and wait. Then I'll take
you back to my house to get the rest of your things you left there."

	"Sir?"

	"Oh, it's OK. I told Dan and Bud that you'd spent the night in the
guest room. Relax and don't looked so surprised, will you?"

	"You did a fine job, son." Dan said to Tom.

	"Indeed you did! You made quite an impression on the rest of the
team this afternoon."

	"Thank you, sir, but I can do a lot better once I get back in shape
and once I familiarize myself with the play book."

	"Don't do that!" Dan said, "You get any better and we'll have to
recruit a whole new team."

	"That's not a bad idea, Dan." Bud said, kidding Dan.

	"Go hang yourself, I'm not about to recruit anybody this late in
the season!" Dan replied.

	"Tom, go get your street clothes and meet me at my car."

	"Okeydoke." he said, running to the locker room.

	'Okeydoke'? Was this the same kid that was so disgruntled only
twenty-four hours ago? Was it being back in a uniform or being part of a
team that had made the difference in him? Or was it Jim? He dismissed the
last thought immediately. But then, why had he thought it in the first
place?

	Dan, Bud, and Jim made plans for Monday's practice, picking out
plays they hadn't tried earlier today. Tom had brought new life into
them. The kid was some kind of Peter Pan who could work magic on people,
only he didn't know it. By the time the three coaches were through plotting
out strategies, Jim saw Tom waiting for him by the car.

	On the way to the dorm, Jim and Tom drove silently for five
minutes. Jim was the first to speak.

	"Tom, you were something else, this afternoon. I was proud and
pleased by the way you performed."

	"Thanks."

	"How do you feel?"

	"Kinda good, I guess," he replied, with a slightly surprised smile.

	"You should feel better than good," Jim said to him.

	"Coach?"

	"Yes?"

	"Uh..do you think?...I mean, is there a chance that...?

	"What?"

	"Is Harm gay?"

	"Good Lord, no! What made you ask that? Did he try to try to play
grab ass with you in the locker room or something?"

	"No, but I've played quarterback with a lot of teams. And I've
taken the snap from many centers...but every time I put my hands down in
between Harm's legs to receive the snap, he put sort of a wiggle in his
hips and he all but sat down on my hands. It was like he was offering his
ass to me."

	"Tom, good God, either you're extremely horny or you're imagining
things."

	"I don't think so. A couple of times he wiggled so much, the
referee would've called a false start penalty on him."

	"Don't get any ideas into your head. I'll watch him closely
tomorrow and see if I can pick up on the movement you're talking about."

	"OK, but wouldn't it be something if he WAS gay?"

	"Yeah, it'd be something all right. I'd have two headaches instead
of the one sitting beside me."

	"Coach?"

	"What now?"

	"Can I spend the night at your house again tonight?"

	"No, I'm afraid that's out of the question. Why?"

	"I don't know. Maybe I don't trust myself or maybe you shouldn't
trust me just yet. What if I get the urge to go out on a manhunt again
tonight?"

	"You little shit! You're blackmailing me and I'm on to you."

	"I wish you were."

	"Were what?"

	"On to me."

	"Now, Tom, stop that!" Jim said emphatically. "I'm not gay and I'm
never going to be gay, so you can get that idea out of your head, once and
for all!"

	"You let me kiss you."

	"I know and I've been sorry all afternoon."

	"Was it so horrible?"

	"Well,...no."

	"Didn't you like it, just a little?"

	"I suppose."

	"I mean, after all, you did put your tongue in my mouth."

	"Tom, I was wrapped up in the heat of the moment. Believe me. It
WON'T happen again!"

	"But it might..."

	"Yes, well, it MIGHT NOT, too!"

	"OK...for now." Tom said, as the car pulled up in front of the
dorm.

	After he got out of the car, he stuck his head inside the passenger
window and asked, "Are you sure I can't spend the night?"

	"I'm positive."

	"I'll bring a change of clothes just in case." he said as he ran
inside the dorm door.

	All the time Jim had been arguing with Tom about spending the
night, Jim was having a tougher battle within himself. Jim wanted him to
spend the night and he had no explanation why.

	'Goddamn, if this problem continued for the rest of the season, I'd
be out of job, out of a marriage, and onto a therapist's couch!" Jim
thought to himself.

	Twenty minutes later Tom returned, shaved, showered, carrying his
football uniform, pads, cleats, and a backpack in which he'd brought a
change of clothes, Jim presumed and also assured myself that this was
unnecessary because Jim definitely planned to take Tom back to the dorm
when he'd finished the last bite of dessert.

	Jim drove the car to the back of the house so that they could enter
through the kitchen. Nina was standing by the stove where all four burners
were filled with pots and pans. The oven was loaded with something that
smelled delicious. Tom and Jim came into the kitchen just as Nina bent over
to look into the oven. Jim couldn't resist a light slap to her fanny. She
raised up quickly just as Tom neared her. He reached over and kissed her on
the cheek and said, "Hi, Mom. We're home!" It would have been a contest to
see who was the more astonished, Nina or Jim, at Tom's opening remark. Not
to let Tom get the best of her, Nina played along with him.

	"Why, son. you're home so early from the wars," she said. "Were you
wounded?"

	"Only where I can't show you, Mom," was Tom's answer.

	"Are you home for good? And can I take the star out of the window?"
she said, playfully.

	"No, Mom, keep the star where it is! Looks like I'm off to the
trenches again tomorrow."

	"Too bad. Promise me, you'll be careful and don't let those nasty
old tackles harm you." She replied, patting his cheeks.

	"Be brave, Mom. I'll be home for Christmas."

	For some reason, Jim was too taken back to join in their fun. First
of all he couldn't believe Tom acting as he did, but what was more
frightening was seeing Nina responding to Tom's horseplay. Jim didn't
recognize either one of them.

	"You boys go set the dining room table while I finish cooking," she
said.

	"Yes, Mom, anything to please you and to make your day better," Tom
replied.

	Tom followed Jim to the buffet where Jim retrieved a linen table
cloth and several matching napkins. He showed Tom the China cabinet and
where to get the plates, cups, and saucers.

	"What the hell was that all about just now?" Jim asked him.

	"What?"

	"The 'When Johnny Comes Marching Home' routine."

	"Oh, I just want her to like me. That's all."

	"But you kissed her on the cheek and you hardly know her."

	"I kissed her husband on the lips and I hardly knew him any
better."

	"Tom, for God's sake, keep those remarks to yourself. Do you want
to ruin my marriage?"

	"NO. Do you?"

	"Hell, no. Get the silverware on top of the buffet and remember the
forks go on the left side."

	"I know...Daddy."

	"Tom? Please stop that! This is going beyond being fun. A joke is a
joke, but this one's gone far enough."

	"Sorry. I just wanted you to see I'm not always maudlin and
depressed."

	"Well, you're acting more like you're manic-depressive...sad one
night and filled with glee the next."

	"You mean like a bi-polar bear?"

	"More like a bi-polar schizophrenic."

	"You talkin' to me?" Tom said a la Robert DeNiro in "Taxi
Driver". He kept that up, repeating the phrase, emphasizing a different
word and syllable, every time he repeated it.

	"That phrase doesn't suit you unless you shave your hair into a
mohawk."

	"I can do that! Is your razor in the bathroom cabinet?"

	Jim's patience had worn thin. He headed for the bar to fix a drink.

	"Please, don't do that!" he said, trying to stop Jim. "I'll quit!
I'll behave, just don't drink!"

	"You drank in a bar last night."

	"Only beer. I never touch the hard stuff."

	"Why's that?"

	"Coach, my mother and father were both alcoholics. I never saw them
sober the last two years before the crash,"

	Jim realized he'd struck a nerve. It was just another revelation
Tom kept locked in his psyche. Jim stopped and went back to continue
setting the table.

	"I'm sorry, Tom. I didn't know."

	"It's OK. It's just that I associate drinking with getting whipped
or beaten, as the case may be."

	"Your dad beat you while he was drunk?"

	"My mom, too. There never was much love at my house unless it was
poured out of a bottle. One shrink I went to said the reason I'm always
trying to get a man to pick me up is that I'm searching for a father
image. The funny thing is...I never found one...not until last night when
you held me." Tom looked at Jim straight in the eye.

	Everything was clearer now. Tom wasn't looking for sex, he was
actually looking for a father's love and attention. Was Jim looking for the
son he'd never had? But sons and fathers don't kiss the way they had. Jim
pondered these thoughts throughout dinner.

	Dessert was over and it was time for Jim to suggest taking Tom back
to the dorm. However, it was Nina who upset the applecart.

	"Can you spend the night, Tom?" she asked.

	Jim cringed.

	Tom looked at Jim to reply then said, "No, thanks, Nina, I really
should be getting back to the dorm being that tomorrow is my first day in
school."

	"So what? Jim and I will be going to school around seven-thirty in
the morning. I don't see any reason why you can't stay and go when we do."

	"I don't think Jim likes the idea." Tom replied.

	"Oh, Jim, Schmim! He doesn't mind, do you, darling?" Nina said,
fluttering her eyelashes a-la-Lucille Ball.

	"Of course not," Jim said, hesitantly, "I'd love for Tom to stay."

	"Are you sure?" Tom asked, sheepishly.

	"Sure, I'm sure." Jim said.

	"Why don't you boys go into the den and turn on that new show that
comes on at nine, followed by 'The Practice', at ten? I'll put the dishes
in the sink and then I'll join you."

	The three of them began to stack the dirty dishes. Tom complimented
Nina's cooking for the third time and came into the den and sat on the
leather couch, next to Jim's recliner.

	"You're mad at me, aren't you?"

	"No," Jim replied.

	"I shouldn't spend the night, should I?"

	"No."

	"Then I won't!"

	"You have to, now. Otherwise, Nina might suspect something."

	"I promise to go to bed right after 'The Practice' and you won't
see or hear from me until the morning. Is that all right?"

	"That's fine...Just no more scenes or one-act plays between you and
Nina. OK?"

	"Gotcha, Coach!"

	True to his word, at 10:59PM Tom excused himself and went straight
to bed. When Jim was sure his door was shut, he went to the bar and poured
Nina and himself a snifter of brandy. When Jim handed Nina's to her, they
clinked glasses in an unspoken toast and Jim sat beside her on the
couch. He didn't need to hear the trauma on the eleven o'clock news, so he
clicked off the TV set. Nina and Jim sat quietly as they so often did late
in the evening reliving their day and dreading a full schedule of classes
tomorrow. Jim took her hand to hold and sighed. All was quiet on the
western front. Their 'son' had finally gone to bed, leaving the grownups
time to unwind.

	"He's in love with you, you know?"

	"WHO?" Jim asked too strongly.

	"Tom." she said, smiling gently at him. "Don't you see it?"

	"No, I don't! What put that loony idea into your head?"

	"Watching him and watching you, watching him."

	"Throughout this day, I've felt like I was in 'The Twilight Zone'
and you're just adding to the feeling." Jim said.

	"You may not be in love with Tom, but you DO love him, whether you
realize it or not."

	"Nina, have you gone insane?"

	"No, but I AM your wife and I know you better than you know
yourself."

	"Are you telling me that you suspect me being gay after seven years
of marriage?"

	"No, it never occurred to me that you were. I'm not saying that you
are. Maybe you look at Tom and imagine him as a son. Maybe it's a fatherly
love you feel for him, but you do feel it."

	"This is preposterous! Where do you come up with these ideas?"

	"Some nights, I wake up and find your bed empty and then I get
thirsty and tiptoe down the stairs to the kitchen to get a glass of
juice...and hear sounds of crying coming from the guestroom...I saw you,
Jim. I saw you holding Tom in your arms. He was in the bed and you were
sitting beside him, locked in an embrace."

	"Nina, I can explain what you saw...and it's not what you think!"

	"Jim, I'm not jealous...as a matter of fact, I was glad to see you
holding Tom. I know you're not gay and I know that it was not a gay lovers'
embrace. After all these years together, don't you know I'm aware of how
much you've always wanted a son."

	"Nina, I've never kept anything from you. I was going to tell you
everything as soon as I figured it out for myself."

	"Jim, it's simple. Tom's the son you've always wanted."

	"That's not entirely true. There are other factors which you don't
know about that have been eating my insides all day."

	"Such as?"

	"Nina, while I was holding him...well, I got a hard on!"

	"Is that what's bothering you?"

	"Yes. I'm so ashamed, embarrassed, puzzled, and scared...all at the
same time."

	"Was Tom aware you were aroused?"

	"Not at first, but then he knew."

	"You knew he was gay before you went to him, didn't you?"

	"Yes."

	"And that didn't stop you?"

	"No. I felt I was completely in control of my emotions...but I
wasn't!"

	"Do you think he wanted to have sex with you?"

	"He said he did."

	"And how did you react to that?"

	"I ran...then this morning when you went to the store...he kissed
me."

	"And how did that affect you?"

	"I didn't want to, but I responded to him...and the thought of it's
been driving me crazy all day!"

	"Jim, I think you should go to him."

	"What?"

	"You should go to him and find out if your feelings are real. Are
you attracted to him because you think of him as a son...or something
else?"

	"Nina, I couldn't do that. I've never been unfaithful to you even
when a student tried for a whole semester to get me to go to bed with her."

	"Jim, self-discovery is an exercise that exudes the boundary of
infidelity. If you don't find out now, that's something that will always
come between us and our marriage...I think you should go to him."

	"Nina, I'm not gay. I wouldn't know what to do."

	"I bet Tom has had enough experience to walk you through one
exercise, at least."

	"You're serious, aren't you?"

	"Dead serious."

	"What if I did go to him? How would you feel about him or me in the
morning?"

	"Jim, sex has not been an active part of our marriage for years. I
know you masturbate every time you shower. I haven't spied on you, but I
HAVE seen you...An evening spent with a member of the same sex is really
not being unfaithful, if you have the wife's blessing...and you have mine."

	"I just can't believe you're saying all these things. You're saying
words I never thought or hoped I would hear coming from your mouth."

	"Jim, our marriage was founded on honesty and we've maintained that
for seven years. Aren't you being dishonest with yourself, and to me, by
not finding out what these feelings are that you have toward Tom? I would
rather risk your knowing than living a life together of doubt."

	"What should I do? Go into his bedroom, fling off my clothes, and
attack him in his sleep?"

	"No, you could be gentle and take your time as you did with me when
we first married. I was afraid. I was a virgin and didn't know what to do,
but somehow you taught me. Tom could teach you the same way."

	"Oh my God, I need a drink!"

	"No, you don't. If you go to him only slightly tipsy, you'll always
blame it on alcohol. I want you fully sober and want you to know exactly
what you're doing."

	"This is madness! I'm NOT going to do it, no matter how much you OR
I want me to do it."

	"It's your choice. I'm going to bed and if you decide you want to
go to him...then go. If you come to our bedroom and crawl into your own
bed, then that'll be the other side of the coin toss.  You decide, but I'm
going to bed while you make your own decision by yourself...Good night."

	Nina arose from the couch, kissed Jim's cheek, gave him a wink, and
went upstairs to bed. Jim suddenly felt like the man standing between the
two doors, trying to choose between the lady and the tiger. He found it
difficult to believe that his own wife was so eager for him to have his
first homosexual experience. What if he liked it? Then what? Would Nina
leave him?  With her permissive attitude, would she invite Tom to come live
with them so that Jim would have a sex toy nearby every time he got
aroused? Jim supposed his pubescent education had floundered a bit. He'd
never tried anything with another boy, outside of watching his best friend
jack-off. Sometimes he'd wondered what homosexuals did behind closed
bedroom doors, but the idea of inserting a penis in any of his orifices
repulsed him. He certainly couldn't put one in his mouth...and God knows,
he didn't want to tear the lining of his rectum while some jock pushed his
big fat organ in where it didn't belong.  The idea seemed hopeless. Jim
wasn't willing to try...but then again, maybe he wouldn't have to be the
passive partner, maybe Tom would do him and not expect reciprocation. Jim
had heard of some queers that just gave blow jobs...nothing more! He could
tolerate oral sex performed on him, but the very idea of Tom, putting Jim's
penis in his mouth disturbed Jim.

	He put all those thoughts behind himself and walked somberly toward
the guestroom. He tapped lightly on Tom's door.

	"Tom?" Jim said in a verbal whisper. "Tom, are you awake?"

	There was no reply from him. Jim placed his hand on the doorknob
and slowly turned it. He had also turned off the hallway light so that the
light wouldn't streak across Tom's room if he opened it. Jim eased the door
open about three or four inches...just enough that he could see Tom lying
in bed while the moonlight illuminated his room.

	"Jim? Is that you?"

	"Yes."

	"What do you want?" he asked.

	"I..uh..wanted to see if you're all right..."

	"Yeah, I'm fine."

	"Good."

	"Do you want anything else," he asked.

	This was the moment of decision...Lady or Tiger?!!!

	"No, I was about to go to bed and just wanted to look in on you
first."

	"Thanks, but I'm OK. Thanks for checking on me. I'm sorry about
making a pest and an ass out of myself tonight."

	"No, no, you did the right thing."

	"Jim?"

	"Yes?"

	"I want you to know how much I love being here with you and
Nina. This is like the first real home I've ever known."

	"I'm glad you feel that way. Well, I'll see you in the morning."
Jim said, starting to leave.

	"Jim?"

	"Yes?"

	"Wanna kiss me good night?"

	"Do you think I should? We almost got in trouble this morning with
a kiss."

	"Not a 'kiss' kiss, just a good night kiss...you know, the way
you'd kiss your son or daughter at bedtime."

	"On your forehead?"

	"Where ever..."

	"Oh, all right...one quick one...but nothing more. Promise?"

	"I promise."

	Jim went into the bedroom and assumed the same position, sitting on
the side of Tom's bed, as he had the night before. The covers were down
below Tom's waist and Jim could see Tom was once again sleeping in the
nude. Jim took his hand and brushed back the bangs of Tom's hair off his
forehead and leaned down and aimed for Tom's forehead, but at the last
second, Jim gently brushed his lips against Tom's.

	"Thank you." Tom said quietly.

	"No, thank you, little guy." Jim replied.

	"Jim?"

	"What?"

	"Wanna see what you do to me?"

	"No...Now don't start something...you promised."

	"I just want you to see how you affect me."

	"How?"

	Without being able to counteract his swift movement, Tom grabbed
Jim's hand and placed it on his erect penis. Jim tried to pull his hand
back but Tom held Jim's hand firmly with both of his.

	"See?"

	"Yes, I see."

	"Feel it, Jim. Touch it." he whispered. "Grab it. Hold it. Let me
know that you know what I feel for you."

	To satisfy Tom and Jim's own curiosity. Jim did grab him. Tom's
penis washuge, hard, and throbbing...just like Jim's always felt when he'd
gone a week without masturbating himself in the shower. Jim wasn't
repulsed. Tom's hard penis felt no different in Jim's hand than his own did
at full staff. Jim could masturbate him and give him pleasure without
making myself feel guilty by what he was doing. Slowly Jim's hand began to
move up and down and he inhaled with a wheezing sound of delight. Then,
suddenly Jim stopped.

	"NO! This is wrong!" Jim all but shouted.

	"It's right, Jim." Tom said. "Don't stop now or you'll never know
whether it is or isn't! It's what you want or you wouldn't be here!"

	"I want to be here, Tom, but I don't want this!"

	"Would you at least take me in your arms?" Tom said, almost
pleading.

	"Tom, what are you doing to me? You're like some male Jezebel who's
cast a spell on me. Every time I get alone with you something happens."

	"Only because you want it to happen. Now will you take me in your
arms?"

	Jim had the urge to flee, yet some force of curiosity had more
power over him than his natural instincts.

	Tom threw the covers back revealing his moonlit naked body.

	"Here, lie down next to me. It'll be all right."

	Jim reached down to his feet and removed his shoes and reluctantly
obeyed by lying beside Tom. Once again Jim found myself face to face with
him. The urge to kiss him that Jim had felt earlier in the morning was
back, stronger than before. Jim didn't wait for Tom to make the first
move. Jim took the incentive and kissed him forcefully.  This time Jim
pried Tom's lips open with his tongue. Jim yearned for the taste in Tom's
mouth. Tom's arms went around Jim's back and began to tug Jim's shirt tail
from his trousers. When Jim's shirt was free and Tom's hands returned to
Jim's chest and one by one he unbuttoned the shirt all the way down. Jim
helped him remove his shirt while Tom was pulling at Jim's belt buckle. Jim
knew that he wanted to join Tom's nudity so rather than prolong the ordeal
of stripping, Jim stood up and took all his clothes off.

	"My God, you have a beautiful body!" Tom said. "You must work out
to keep in shape. Your muscles are tauter than mine."

	Jim didn't respond verbally to Tom's compliment, instead he lay
down beside Tom once again and this time their nude bodies were touching
chest to toes. Their erections rested next to each other's as Jim resumed
kissing Tom. It was a strange feeling for Jim to have a male organ pumping
into his midsection, but he found it excitingly stimulating. Jim rolled Tom
on his back and topped him with his body. Jim wasn't sure what to do next
after kissing, but he was willing to accept Tom's lead. Tom took his hands
and pushed against Jim's chest for Jim to assume a sitting position,
straddling Tom's hips. Next Tom grabbed their tautly stretched organs
together with his right hand and pumped them, while his left hand cupped
Jim's scrotum.

	"There! That's not so bad, is it?" he asked.

	"No, I suppose not!" Jim replied.

	"Just relax. Everything's gonna be all right," he assured his
coach.

	"Maybe, if I don't die from a heart attack first." Jim remarked.

	Outside, a rainstorm was brewing. The lightning and thunder
preceded the rain. With the first flash of light, Jim got a more in depth
view of their nakedness. Then the thunder boomed and Jim bolted back. Jim
didn't believe in God, but he felt that this was some kind of omen that
confirmed his original opinion that what they were doing was wrong. Jim
jumped out of bed and grabbed his underwear and quickly started dressing.

	"JIM! What's going on?" Tom shouted.

	"I'm sorry, Tom. I can't do this!! Why don't you masturbate and get
yourself off. I'm going to my room and I'll see you at breakfast in the
morning!"

	"But I thought you were enjoying it..." Tom replied.

	"Maybe I was enjoying it too much. I just can't do it! I'm sorry,
Tom, really sorry," Jim said as he grabbed his piled clothes in his arms
and exited the guestroom. Jim hoped he hadn't upset Tom too much, but Jim
was the one who was upset. He wanted to shower and get clean all over as he
tiptoed into the bathroom, hoping that Nina wouldn't see him in his shorts
after a fast exit from downstairs. Jim turned the hot tap on as far as it
would twist and let the water hammer the back of his taut neck. He had to
relax and compose himself. He reached down to grab his penis for his usual
relaxation exercise and as soon as he held himself in his right hand, he
could still feel where his hand had been. As Jim touched himself, he
remembered touching Tom. The harder Jim masturbated, the more he thought
about Tom. The more he thought about Tom, the more he wanted him. Jim was
having his first gay fantasy and it was becoming a premature midlife
crisis. Jim wanted a boy he could have had only ten minutes ago. God! Was
he stupid or was he losing his mind? Jim pretended it was Tom's hand on his
penis and it was Tom's penis in HIS hand as Jim reached a hard and quick
climax.

	Jim finished his shower, toweled off, and went to his dresser for
clean underwear. He sat down on his twin bed and reached in the drawer of
the bedside table for a cigarette. He kept a pack handy when he felt the
urge. His cigarette habit totaled less than one pack per month.  It felt
good knowing there was a cigarette nearby if and when he wanted one. This
was one of those times.  His thoughts kept returning to Tom,
downstairs...wondering what he must be thinking. Wondering if he was
experiencing rejection, hurt, puzzlement, or anger toward Jim. A deep
feeling of guilt consumed Jim's entire body. He was a man...Tom's
coach...his teacher.  He should go to him and try to explain or make some
kind of verbal restitution in their father-son, 'make believe'
relationship. Jim stamped out the cigarette after only two puffs.

	He reached for his navy blue robe draped on the chair by his bed
and donned it. Once more Jim made his way down the stairs to the
guestroom. He entered without knocking and as he expected, he heard Tom
muffling the sound of his crying. Now Jim really did feel guilty. Jim had
hurt the kid and he shouldn't have put himself in the position to hurt
him. Jim walked over to Tom's bed. He was lying on his stomach and Jim
reached down to touch his shoulder.

	"Tom?" Jim said, quietly.

	No answer.

	"Tom?"

	"What?"

	"I'm sorry...really."

	He didn't respond to my apology.

	"Tom, I want to tell you something."

	Still no reply.

	"Tom, I was in the shower just now...and I...uh...realized that I
left you too soon."

	He turned his head to the right to face Jim.

	"What do you mean?" he asked, through his tears.

	"Invite me into your bed and I'll show you."

	"What?" he said, sounding puzzled.

	"Open up your covers." Jim said to him.

	Tom wasn't sure what Jim was going to do next. Neither was Jim. But
Tom rolled on his side and held the blanket and sheet, again revealing his
body to Jim.

	Without a moment's hesitation, Jim threw off his robe and yanked
down his shorts, leaving them in a pile and Jim lay down beside Tom...their
naked bodies touching in all the places as a few minutes earlier. Once
again they were face to face for the third time. The lightning crashed
again and Jim saw the surprised look on Tom's face. Jim wanted to speak
before the thunder had a chance to drown out his words.

	"Take me, Tom. Make love to me. I'm yours." Jim said, just before
the thunder broke.

	Their lips met as Tom gently placed his arm around Jim's back and
pulled Jim closer into his body. The rain started peppering against the
window as they began to make love.


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(To be continued in "Briarwood"--BOOK SIX--chapter--fifty-seven)