Date: Thu, 6 Nov 2003 10:34:53 -0800 (PST)
From: Tim Mead <timmead88@yahoo.com>
Subject: Out of the Night, ch. 10

The following narrative involves sexually-explicit erotic events between
men.  If you shouldn't be reading this, don't.

This is a work of fiction.  No similarity between the characters here and
any real person is intended or should be inferred.  Lake Polk is a
fictional town, though I fear it is like all too many real communities.

In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms.  In
the real world, you should care enough about yourself and others to always
practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights.  No reproductions or links to other sites
are allowed without the author's consent.

Thanks, as always, to Ash, Evan, Mickey, Patrick and Tom.

Timmead88@Yahoo.com
Chapter 10


As he was coming back into the house after his trip to Waltersburg,
something kept nagging at Doug.  Canon Smathers had reminded him of
someone, but he couldn't think who.  So he began to work on his plan to
move the disagreement "to the next level."  Sure enough, as he was thinking
about options, it popped into his head: Uriah Heep!  Dickens' tall,
redheaded sycophant squirmed with obsequiousness so long as he was an
underling.  When he got some power, he became arrogant.  Yeah, that was
Smathers, all right.  But Doug was damned if he was going to play David
Copperfield for the bishop.

He continued to think about his plan, even to draft something in his mind.

When he got home, he found Stan's sexy red car in his driveway.  Stan had
had a key to Doug's house from the time they became lovers.

Stan was at the door to give him a hug and a kiss and to grind his cock
into Doug's.

"Oh, God," Doug said when they came up for air, "I really needed that,
Stanley.  But why aren't you at work?"

"Hell, Dougie, they're going to fire me anyway, most likely.  I just left
early so I'd be here when you got home.  Now, let me get you a drink.  Then
you can tell me how it went."

"I think a hefty bourbon on the rocks, please, babe."

Stan smiled at him and said, "That bad, huh?"  He got out rocks glasses and
made them each a drink.  He handed one to Doug, and the two sat together on
the sofa.  Stan raised his glass to Doug and said, "Bad cess to the Bish!"

Doug chuckled, touched his glass to Stan's, and said, "I can drink to
that!"

Then Doug gave Stan a detailed account of what had happened.

Stan looked at his friend and said, "But you aren't going to let things
rest there, are you?  I can tell by the look in your eye that you're up to
something.  Something delicious, I'd wager."  He leaned forward and pulled
Doug toward him for another long kiss.

When they had finished that kiss, each took a sip of his Marker's Mark.
"So, Douglas, are you gonna tell me, or do I have to get physical?"

Doug laughed.  "I know what you are trying to do, stud, and I love you for
it.  You are trying to get me to calm down.  And it's working.  So, here's
what I've got in mind."

Stan gazed so steadily at Doug that it made his lover squirm.

"Well, it's not much, but it's a statement I think I have to make.  What
I'd LIKE to do is organize a demonstration in front of the cathedral.  You
know, print up leaflets about Wenn's opposition to the New Westminster
Decision and Claiming the Blessing, and adding what he's just done to me.
And have a bunch of people there, some with placards, and some handing out
the leaflets.  Since I'll be alone, however, I think it will just be the
leaflets.  I can't very well wave a sign and distribute flyers too."

"Douglas Curtis, do you think I'd let you do that alone?"  He put his hand
on Doug's knee and squeezed as he looked at his friend, intense blue eyes
blazing.

Doug put his hand on Stan's.  "Yeah, well, I appreciate the loyalty, babe.
But you can't be there with me so long as you are still city manager of
Lake Polk.  And we don't know another gay person in the area, you know.
So, yes, it looks as if I'll be alone."

Obviously beginning to get into the spirit of things, Stan said, "Oh, I
don't think so.  I've got a plan."

"What's that?"

"First you have to pick a date.  When do you want to do this?  Some time
next week?  How about Tuesday?  That would be December 10.  Do you think
you can get them drafted and printed by then?"

"Well, yeah, but what are you thinking?"

"I'm pretty sure I know where I can get us at least four helpers for your
demonstration.  Maybe more."

"Where, Stan?"

"Patience, babe.  Just let me look into it, OK?  I'll let you know as soon
as I have anything definite to tell you.  Now, I want dinner.  Let's go to
the Outback.  I crave red meat tonight!"

"I"ll give you red meat," Doug chuckled.  "Just let me pee, and we'll go."

As always, they had to wait about 45 minutes for a table, but since many of
the "snowbirds" had arrived after Thanksgiving, that would have been true
of most restaurants.

They had New York strips, baked potatoes, salads, and merlot.  They talked
about superficial things, for the most part.  Then Doug said, "I still
don't know where you think you're going to get anyone who would be willing
to help.  I think it's just going to be yours truly there, babe."

"What about Blair?  Didn't you say he had encouraged you to stand up to the
bish?"

"Well, yeah, he did.  But, you know, he's not only Catholic but something
of a neophyte, so I can't imagine him doing anything that public, even if
it's directed at one of our bishops instead of his."

"Well, he deserves at least to know what you have planned.  Then he can
decide whether to volunteer or not."

"Yeah, well, I suppose I should tell him.  But think how he'd feel if he
and I were the only two people there.  That's a lot to expect of a kid."

"Sweetie, I can't promise anything, but I am practically positive you and
Blair won't be alone."

"I wish you wouldn't be so damned mysterious."

"Trust me.  Now, do you want any dessert?"

"I'd like a big helping of you!"

"Comin' right up.  Let's get out of here!"

In the car Stan asked, "My place or yours?"

"You've got to drop me off home sooner or later.  Why not go there first?
Can you spend the night?"

"Probably shouldn't, babe.  I've got a big day at work tomorrow.  I am
expecting to hear from the city commission about all of this, and I want to
do some reading in preparation for that confrontation.  I could stay around
long enough for a nice, long fuck, though."

"Well, I'll miss the snuggle afterward, but these are difficult times,"
Doug said smiling, "so I'll take what I can get.  Mostly, I want Sluggo."
He glanced at Stan's lap.  "And it looks as if Sluggo wants me."

"Sluggo is never happy unless you're around, studly."

When they got to Doug's house, they were like a couple of kids trying to
get into the bedroom and get their clothes off.


About midnight, Stan slapped Doug's rump and said, "Sorry, lover.  Like I
said, I have to go.  You deal with the leaflets tomorrow.  I'll be here for
lunch.  You want me to bring something?"

"No, you just come on.  I'll fix us something.  I've already got some ideas
about the flyers.  How many should I have printed?"

"Why think small?  Have them do 1000."

Doug grinned and said, "I think you are gradually converting me to your
approach to life, Stanley.  I like the idea!"

Stan put his clothes on and left, after getting another kiss and playing
with Doug's nipples for a while.


* * *


It was 8:30 the next morning.  The phone rang in Mark and Lori's apartment.

"'Lo?"

"Mark!  Did I wake you?"

"Oh, hi Pops.  Yeah, you did, but that's all right.  Lori's up and gone to
her 8:00 class.  I didn't have anything for a while, so I stayed in bed.
Must have gone back to sleep after she left.  So, how are you?  How's Doug?
How are you two holding up after all the crap that's happened to you?"

"Whoa, Mark.  One question at a time, guy.  Do you want to get a shower,
have some breakfast, and then call me back?"

"If what you're calling about will keep, yeah, I'd like to do that."

"Ok, babe.  I'm on my way to the office.  You have the number there, don't
you?"

"Yeah, Pops, I've got it.  Call you back in half an hour.  I love you."

"Love you, too, guy.  Talk to you later."


When Stan got to his office, he told Karen, his secretary, to put Mark
through when he called.  She looked at him with a thoughtful expression on
her face and said, "Of course, Mr. Mason."

The call came soon after that.  After some preliminary discussion of what
was happening on campus and with Mark's group of friends and what had
recently transpired in Lake Polk, Stan explained about Doug's
less-than-satisfactory meeting with the canon and what Doug wanted to do
about it.

"You mean he's gonna go do that alone?" Mark almost shouted.  "And you
can't be there with him?"

"Mark, babe, I'll be there if I possibly can.  But if I am, it probably
means I won't be city manager here any more."

"But Pops, you can't just let him do that alone."

"You're right, son, and that's why I'm calling.  I thought maybe you and
the `Brotherhood' might be able to help out.  Feel like a quick trip to
sunny Florida?"

"Hey, I think I see what you've got in mind, but wanna explain anyway?"

"Yeah, here's what I was thinking . . . ."  Stan explained his plan.

"Pops, you can count on me.  I won't bring Lori, because it could be
dangerous, or at least very unpleasant, right?"

"Yeah.  Good thinking, Mark."

"But listen, I'll bet the others will want to come, too.  I'll check with
them all as soon as I can and get back to you."

"Great!  Now, once you know if any of the others are coming, you get the
airline tickets.  Continental has several direct flights every day from
Hopkins to Waltersburg.  Come as early as you can on Monday, so we can
visit.  You are all welcome to stay as long as you want, but I know you
won't be able to stay long with the holidays coming up.  But if we do the
demonstration on Tuesday, you guys could all go to Disney on Wednesday and
fly back Thursday morning.  If that isn't possible because of your
obligations, you can go back on Wednesday.  And, Markie, put the cost of
all the airline tickets on your American Express card and just send me the
bill.  I'll take care of housing once I know how many of you there'll be."

"Dad," Mark said, "this sounds so cool.  Let's shake up that bishop.  Oh,
and Disney wouldn't be bad, either!"

Stan chuckled.  "OK, young stud.  Let me know when you have talked to the
guys."

"Yeah, Pops.  I'll do that.  Give Doug my best.  I'm really sorry I'll be
meeting him under these circumstances."

"You're gonna love him, Mark.  I'll be sure to tell him.  He will be so
surprised, I think, by what we're cooking up.  By the way, if you call
tonight and I'm not home, call me at Doug's.  You have the number there,
right?"

"Right.  Will do.  Talk to ya tonight.  Love you!"


* * *


STAN:


Later that morning I got a phone call from Florence Broadhurst, the mayor.
(In Lake Polk, the city commission has five members.  One is elected the
mayor.  It's a largely honorary post involving some speechmaking at civic
events and presiding over commission meetings.)

"Good morning, Florence, how are you?"

"I am quite well, Mr. Mason."

Woops.

"How can I help you, Madame Mayor?"

She chuckled. "OK, Stanley, you win.  I'm calling to let you know that
there's a move afoot to ask you to resign.  I thought you should have some
warning.  There will be a closed meeting of the commission tomorrow at
3:00, and you are `requested' to be there."

"Sounds ominous.  3:00 you say?  I'll be there, of course.  And, Florence,
thanks for the warning.  You could have just sent me a letter."

"That would have been proper, Stanley, but very cold.  The meeting will
probably be cold enough.  See you tomorrow afternoon."

"Yes, I'll be there."


At lunch, I asked Doug how he was doing with the flyers.  He said he had
drafted what he wanted, added appropriate graphics, printed a copy, and
taken it into Cypress Haven to Kinko's for copies.  He was having them done
on various colors of paper.  They would be ready the next day.  Then he
asked about my morning, and I told him about Florence's phone call, but not
about my conversation with Mark.

"That sucks.  We knew it was likely to happen, but I was hoping against
hope it wouldn't.  And you can't imagine how guilty I feel that I've
brought all this on you, sweetheart."

"Here, now, Douglas, none of that!  We are in this together.  And I AM gay,
remember.  You didn't do that.  So if this fuckin' town can't deal with
that, piss on `em!"

He chuckled.  "I love it when you get vulgar."

I grinned at him.  "Let's have dinner at my place.  I thought I'd fix the
chicken parmesan."

"Yum.  I'll be there with your pipe and slippers when you get home."

I slapped him on the ass and said, "Just be there, babe.  What are you
going to do this afternoon?"

"Well, you suggested I talk to Blair.  I'm not going to ASK him to
participate, but I think he deserves to know what's up.  And I thought I'd
let Hallie, Bruce, and Father Dave know, too.  So Bruce can fire me, Dave
can excommunicate me, and Hallie can have my balls."

I howled.  "I'm glad you are in such a good mood.  Good luck with your
phone calls.  And save your balls, at all cost."

We had a kiss, and I went back to work.


* * *


DOUG:


I don't know why, but my depression had left me.  I think I must have
realized that, whatever the outcome of all this, I still had Stan.  And
what else did I need, really?  I was excited about the fact that I was
going, in my own small way, to make a statement.  I was still curious why
Stan thought I'd need a thousand flyers, and about his comment that I
wouldn't be out there in front of the cathedral alone.  But I was
exhilarated as I made my phone calls.

Blair seemed worried about what I was going to do.  He asked if there was
any chance that I could be excommunicated.  When I assured him that I
thought that highly unlikely, he said he admired me for taking a stand and
wanted to know if Stan would be there with me.  I told him that would
depend on whether Stan still had his job.  As city manager, he couldn't
properly be there.

"That sucks, Doug.  I think he should be there for you, job or no."

"Well, Blair, I appreciate your feeling that way.  But Stan has to observe
all the legal niceties, especially if he decides to fight any decision to
fire him in court.  He says his contract is iron-clad, but, as I said, he
has to do the correct things."

"Doug, it worries me that you'll be there alone.  Is there any chance you
could be arrested?"

"No.  I'm not going to be doing anything violent or illegal.  Stan says he
will arrange for a permit for me to hand out the flyers if that's
required."

"Like I said, man.  You got guts.  I'll be worried about you.  I'll pray
for you, if you don't mind."

"Thanks, Blair.  I'll take all the prayers I can get."


Bruce was immediately sympathetic to what I proposed doing.

"Damn, Doug, I'd like to be there with you.  I'm glad you aren't taking
losing your license lying down.  If it weren't for my position here, I'd go
along and wave a banner or something.  But you know I just can't, don't
you?"

"Yeah, Bruce, I do understand.  And if there's any publicity about what I'm
doing, I will understand if you want me to sever my relationship with the
Gardens.  Or maybe you could just let me be a voluntary weeder or
something."

He laughed at that, said something encouraging, and we hung up.


Father Dave counseled patience.

"Doug, I understand that you are angry about the Bishop's revoking your
license.  But do you want to act out of anger?  Are you sure you have
thought all this through?"

"Yes, Dave, I have thought about it a lot.  I am going to do this, even if
it means standing there all day and being made fun of by passers by."

"And you will be alone?"

"So far as I know."

"Had you thought about what any publicity might do to your life here in
Lake Polk?"

"Well, hell, Dave, it couldn't get much worse.  I understand the city
commission is going to meet tomorrow to discuss whether to keep Stan in his
job.  I don't have any idea how much longer he and I will be living here.
And you know about the problems we've had already, with the vandalism to
his car and my house.  What more can they do to us?"

"I see what you mean, Doug.  And I think it is outrageous that the
commission would ask Stan to resign.  There is no justification for that.
From all I've heard, he's been the best city manager we've ever had, at
least in the memories of some of our old-timers."

"I think Stan and I are ready to deal with whatever happens in the next few
days or weeks."

"Doug, let me suggest something."

"OK."

"Reconsider what you are planning for next Tuesday.  Bishop Wenn is going
to retire soon.  In fact, he's said publicly that he'll do it after the
General Convention next summer if things don't go the way he wants.  I know
this is an extremely conservative diocese, but chances are his successor
will be somewhat less that way then he is.  If you would wait and not
antagonize the staffers at diocesan headquarters, perhaps I could get the
new bishop to reinstate your license."

"Thanks, Father.  But I think it's time to air out that cupboard in
Waltersburg.  People need to know what this bishop is really like."

Father Dave chuckled.  "OK, Doug.  I've done my best.  Don't tell anyone,
but I admire you for doing what you are doing.  I've made the spiel I
thought I had to make.  Good luck, my friend.  God be with you."

"Dave, thanks.  I appreciate that.  And I'll tell Stan what you said, too."


"Dougie," Hallie exclaimed, "I admire your courage.  I haven't been in a
demonstration since I was in college and we demonstrated against that
terrible war in Viet Nam.  A part of me says I'd love to be with you when
you do it.  I love a good fight!"

I was surprised, but then Hallie often caught me off balance.  "So, you
wanna join me in Waltersburg next week?"

She laughed.  "I'd love to.  You know I'm still angry with you for not
telling me you are gay.  But what Bishop Wenn has done is unconscionable.
He had no reason to do that except for his own bigotry.  But --"

"Yeah, Hallie, I know.  I wasn't serious.  I know you can't do that."

"I really can't, you know.  I'm on the vestry at St. John's.  I'm on the
board at the Gardens and at the Lake Polk Care Center.  I have to behave
myself.  You know, act the proper society matron, or whatever in hell I'm
supposed to be."

"Yes, dear, I understand.  Really I do."

"But, Doug, there's something you may not have considered."

"What's that?"

"You and Stan aren't yet the pariahs you think you are.  I've sensed that
many of your friends are indignant at what's happened to you and Stan since
you were outed.  Some of our redneck fellow citizens may continued to give
you dirty looks or even throw beer bottles in your yard, but I think the
people who know you and like you are going to come around.  BUT.  And this
is big.  If you get any kind of notoriety at the cathedral next week, you
may in fact become social pariahs.  Lake Polk is a tight little town.  I
think our group would more likely accept your, ah, alternate lifestyle,
than it would your doing something in such `questionable taste' as
demonstrating in front of a church, much less the cathedral."

I had to think about that for a while.  "And how do you feel about that,
Hallie?"

She paused.  Then she laughed.  "Darlin', you know I love you.  You do
whatever your conscience tells you to.  I'll be there in spirit with you
next week.  And when it's all over, whatever happens, I want you and
Stanley to come to dinner, just the three of us, and you can tell me all
about it."

I laughed and said, "Hallie, you're quite a gal.  I love you.  And it's a
deal.  If I'm not in jail, I'll give you a call next week."

"Good luck, Doug!"


* * *


STAN:


Doug was indeed there when I got home.  He had the table set, had cut up
some crudités and set out a bowl of dip.

After our kiss, he asked me what I wanted to drink.

"Man, you've certainly made yourself at home.  I love that."

He grinned.  "Yeah, su casa mi casa, I guess."

We opened a bottle of Kendall Jackson chard and sipped on it while we fixed
dinner together.  By tacit agreement we didn't talk about our afternoons.

Doug broke the ends off the asparagus and put the spears in a dish to
microwave.  Then he melted butter with a little white balsamic vinegar to
pour over it.

I dredged the chicken breast pieces in melted butter and then rolled them
in grated parmesan (reggiano, of course, not that stuff in the green can)
and Pepperidge Farm stuffing mix. Then I put them on a cookie sheet, ready
to bake.

I prepared a pilaf with basmati rice, and we were able to sit for a few
minutes, enjoying the veggies and dip and the chardonnay.

As we munched and sipped, he told me about the conversations he had that
afternoon with Blair, Bruce, Father Dave, and Hallie.

"You know, sweetheart," I said, "none of that surprises me much except
Hallie.  There's a lot more to her than meets the eye."

"Yeah, babe.  I know what you mean.  What meets the eye ain't bad, but she
has a remarkable mind.  And, in her way, she is integrity personified.  If
I weren't so much in love with you, I might ask her to marry me."

I laughed.  "Yeah, right, and could you get it up for her?"

"Probably not.  At least not unless she helped me a lot.  But, who knows,
she might just be the one who could make me think I'm bi, not gay."

"Enough of that, Curtis!  Do I have to worry about her now?"

He put his wine glass down and came over and sat beside me.

"Stan, I know you were joking just now.  But I want to say this anyway.
You don't ever have to worry about anybody tempting me away from you.  I'm
yours.  You're mine.  Period.  OK?"  Then he tongue-fucked my mouth more
vigorously than ever before.

A timer in the kitchen chimed.  I knew it was time to put the asparagus in
the microwave so it would be ready when the rice and the chicken were done.


As we were having coffee after dinner, Doug said, "You know, babe, we make
a good team.  It doesn't seem to matter which kitchen we're in, we work
well together.  Want to open a restaurant?"

I laughed.  "Not really.  But soon I hope we'll have OUR kitchen to work
in.  Whatever happens in the short run, we need to get rid of two places
and have only one, don't you think?"

He put his hand behind my head and rubbed the back of my neck.
"Absolutely, baby.  I don't care where it is.  Wherever you are is home for
me."

Wow!  That brought tears to my eyes.  I was struck by the truth of that.
Doug and I could be anywhere, and if he was there, it would be home!

"Oh, God, Dougie.  That is a fundamental truth for us, isn't it?"

He smiled and nodded.

"So, babe, you sure you still want to do that business at the cathedral
next week?  Why don't I just let the commission cancel my contract, and
we'll take a `round the world cruise or something?"

He looked me straight in the eye, and I melted at the sight of those
gorgeous brown eyes.

"You've made that offer before, sweetheart.  And you can't know how much it
means to me that you'd do that.  But I think I have to take a stand here.
I fully understand what your problem would be if you are still city
manager.  But --"

The phone rang.

I squeezed his hand (which had been in my crotch).  "That's probably Mark."

I was right.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Pops."

"You have news for me, Mark?"

"Yeah."

I could hear the excitement in his voice.

"There will be eight of us.  In addition to the four of us and Tim, Father
Max is coming, and so are Philip Halifax, president of the campus
Gay/Straight Alliance and Steve Metz.  And all of us can stay over for the
day at Disney, if that's still OK."

"You know it, baby boy.  I'll make reservations at the local Hampton for
all of you.  What shall we do about you?  I take it Lori isn't coming."

"That's right, Pops, she isn't.  But Steve's coming, and he's straight.  If
the room has two beds, he and I could share a room."

"Well, babe, my guest room has twin beds.  You and Steve want to stay
here?"

"Yeah, that would be great.  It would give me a chance to be with you a
little more, and I think you'll like Steve.  He's cool."

"Steve?  Isn't he the guy that was attacked a while back?"

"Yeah.  He's the only other straight guy that is good friends with Tim and
the gang."

"Great.  I'll get rooms at the Hampton for the others.  It's not far from
here.  And you and Steve can stay at my place."

"Pops, I'm furious about what's happened to you and Doug.  But I'm really
looking forward to seeing you and meeting Doug.  He must be a special guy."

I choked up a little.  "Oh, Markie he is.  Your old man is very happy,
despite all the bad things that have happened to Doug and me."

Mark was silent for a minute.  Then I heard him swallow.

"I love you, Pops.  I'll let you know when our flight arrives in
Waltersburg on Monday."

"Look, I've already sent you directions how to get to Lake Polk from
Waltersburg International.  Why don't you just get a couple of rental cars
and come to Doug's house?  He's got more room.  I'll email you directions
how to get there.  Doug and I will take care of supper, and you can check
into the motel later."

"Sounds like a plan, Pops!  Love ya.  Oh, and if you'll get the stuff,
we'll make some placards after we get there."

"Gotcha, babe.  Love you.  Can't wait to see you."

"Yeah, me, too, Pops.  Bye."

I hung up the phone and returned to Doug on the sofa.

"Mark is coming?  And some others as well?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, eight of them are coming and will be with you at the
Cathedral."

Tears began streaming down his face.  "I can't believe this.  Those kids
would come all the way down here to be with me for this?"

"Those kids and Tim Mead, yeah."

Still with tears flowing, he asked, "But why?"

I knew what he meant.

"Because they believe the bishop was wrong, that he did something
unpardonable, babe.  These are smart, sensitive, caring guys.  They want to
support you."

"Well," he said, "I think it's more because they love you.  And didn't I
hear something about Disney just now?"

I smiled back.  "Oh, I don't think a trip to Disney by itself could have
made a bunch of responsible guys leave campus at this point in the semester
and come to Florida.  But the chance to be of help to us and do Disney,
too, was apparently too much to turn down.  Especially since it's a free
ride for all of them."

"I'll bet Tim will have some objections to your footing all the bills."

"Yes, knowing Tim, he probably will.  And I don't want to browbeat him with
my money.  That will take some tact, I imagine."

He leaned in for a kiss.  When we pulled apart, he said, "You are a
remarkable person, Stan Mason."

"A very lucky, guy, sweetheart.  You know, Trey's got more money than I'll
ever have.  But it won't bother him if I pick up the tab for all of them to
come down here.  He'll just figure he would have done it if it had been his
party."

"I guess I'll never understand that," Doug said.

We sat together on the sofa, arms around each other and watched something
forgettable on the tv as we talked about the event planned for the coming
Tuesday.

Finally, about 11:00, we went to bed.  It had gotten to the point where it
didn't matter whose house we were in.  We were both perfectly comfortable
either place.

Since we had been together, we had traded off being top and bottom fairly
evenly.  I think Doug has a slight preference for being a bottom, and
that's fine with me.  But either way was wonderful with this guy.

After brushing our teeth and taking care of the bathroom chores, we
undressed each other slowly, each of us enjoying the gradual revelation of
the other's body.  He looked at me questioningly, and I knew what he was
asking.

"Stud, tonight there's a new Doug.  Stronger.  More determined.  Even
sexier than before.  I want you to do me to celebrate the new Doug.  Would
you do that?"

He looked embarrassed.  "You set a pretty good example, you know, Stan.
I'd be honored to take you tonight."

We turned back the covers and fell into the bed.  There was a lot of
kissing, nip sucking, and licking as we enjoyed each other's bodies.

"Oh, God, I've needed you so long!"

"No more than I've needed you, lover."

Eventually, I handed him the lube.  He smiled at me, took the lube and
began to get me ready.  He worked slowly, deliberately, continuing to smile
at me all the while.  By the time he had his third finger in me, I was
hunching my ass up, trying to fuck myself on his fingers.

"Hey, hotstuff, I think you're ready to be Spiked."

At that moment, I giggled.  I had just caught on to something.  Call me
slow, but, though I had known Doug called his cock "Spike," I hadn't
previously made the ecclesiastical connection.  [For those of you who don't
know, in the Episcopal Church, a "spike" is a very high church
Episcopalian, someone who is more Catholic than the Romans.  -- Tim]

"And just what's funny, Stanley?" he asked, trying to look serious.

"I'll explain later, you naughty man you.  Please, babe, just fuck me!"

"Indubitably.  Inexorably.  In fact, NOW."

And with that he pushed in.  Nothing tentative about it.  He just pushed
in.  My hungry ass, by now more than used to his beautiful tool, happily
swallowed Spike.

He was, how shall I describe it?  More in control, more forceful than he'd
ever been before.  Almost as if he were claiming me for the first time.  It
was as exciting as hell, and I was soon lost in the gorgeous sensations
emanating from my packed chute and repeatedly stimulated prostate.

We're a little too old to be able to arrive at simultaneous orgasms, and I
don't often even have one while he's fucking me without some kind of
stimulation to my cock.  But that night there was an additional electricity
to our coupling, and I did come without either of us touching Sluggo.
Tightening my sphincter produced the usual results by triggering his
orgasm.  He pumped more into me than he ever had before as I spewed a
goodly amount (for an old guy) onto my chest and belly.

He collapsed on me as my body expelled the deflated Spike.  I chuckled.
"Spikey seems to have become rather low church, babe."

He laughed at that and then began to lick my cum off my body.

As we lay there in each others' arms, I said, "Wow, stud.  That was
different!  Where did this new Douglas Curtis come from?"

He was quiet for a minute or so.  "You know, Stan, I do feel different.  I
don't mean that I want to be the top all the time.  It's not even just a
matter of our love-making.  You've done something to me."

I squeezed him against me.  "Yeah, babe, and I'm going to keep doing it to
you."

He laughed.  "That's not what I meant, and you know it.  It's just that I'm
tired of being ashamed and embarrassed, tired of hiding.  I am gay.  I love
you.  I love our life together.  If other people don't like that, then fuck
`em!"

Holding him as I was, I couldn't very well applaud, but I felt like it.  I
pushed him away enough to look into his eyes.  "There he is!"

"There who is?"

"There's the Doug I always knew was in there.  I'm so proud of you, lover."

He kissed me on the tip of my nose and said, "This doesn't mean I'm going
to have to be the top all the time, does it?"

"No way!" I laughed.  Soon after that, we fell asleep, still in each
others' arms.


* * *


DOUG:


The next morning we had a long, sexy, loving shower.  After breakfast Stan
went to work, and later I drove into Cypress Haven to Kinko's to pick up
the flyers.  I was pleased with the way they looked.

Stan came to my place for lunch.  He had told me about the closed meeting
of the city commission that afternoon, and as we ate, I told him I was
nervous.

"Relax, hon," he said.  "The worst that could happen is that they could ask
me to resign and agree to waive the penalty for my breaking my contract."

"Stan, if they want you to resign, isn't there a penalty for them?"

"Of course."

"Well, then, you shouldn't let them get away with making you quit and then
not paying the penalty."

"We'll see what transpires, babe.  I can take care of myself.  It might be
worth it just to get out of this job."

I grinned.  "Remember the old fractured Latin thing, `illigitimi non
carborundum'?"

"Oh, yeah," he said, chuckling, "I haven't heard that in years."

He gave me a nice kiss, and set off to do battle with the commission.

I tried to write on my novel, but Stan was too much on my mind.  And I
couldn't help thinking about the thing we were planning for the next
Tuesday.  I couldn't believe that Mark and seven of his friends would come
all the way to Florida from Ohio to help out Stan's friend.  I know the
four in the "Brotherhood" love Stan.  He thinks of all of them as sons.

Tim apparently goes where Ced goes.  I hoped that I'd get a chance to talk
with him while he was here.  Maybe he'd stay with Stan and me while the
college guys went to Disney.  We could take him to the Gardens, perhaps.  I
looked forward to talking with anybody who shared my interest in the Lost
Generation.

Stan had also said that Steve Metz was coming.  Steve is straight, as I
recall.  What a special guy he must be to get involved in all this.  And
Stan mentioned somebody named Philip something or other.  I didn't know
anything about him.  Wondered why he was coming along.

The afternoon dragged by.  I really wished I could be at the meeting with
Stan.  But, unlike most of the commission's meetings, this one was closed
to the public.  Cowards!  If they had anything to say to Stan, they should
have been willing to say it in public.

I decided to have a special meal ready for him when he got home.  I put a
bottle of champagne in the fridge to chill.  Then I went to Albertson's.

When he got home, I gave him a long kiss and sent him to change into a tee
and some shorts.  When he got back to the family room I handed him a glass
of Brut Imperiale, pushed him down on the sofa, and gave him a water
cracker with caviar on it.

He looked tired, but the twinkle was still there.  "You're incredible,
Doug.  You really know how to pamper me.  But what are we celebrating,
babe?"

"Well, I haven't let you tell me about your afternoon yet, so why don't we
just say we're celebrating not letting the bastards wear us down?"

He laughed and held up his glass.  "Illigitimi non carborundum!" we said
together.

I had learned that Stan loved creamed potatoes, so I had peeled and cut up
a bunch and put them on to cook.  We'd have a salad, and I'd found some
really thick loin lamb chops at the market to broil.

"OK, babe," I said as I sat facing him.  "Supper is under control.  Now
tell me about your meeting."

He took another sip of the champagne and set his glass on the chairside
table.

"I'll spare you the gory details.  But when the meeting was called to order
by the mayor, Clint Henderson led the attack.  He said that my conduct was
an embarrassment to the city and that I should resign.  Byers sat there
nodding his head, agreeing with him.  Spoleto surprised me by saying that
he didn't see that I'd done anything the city could legally take issue with
and that he thought my contract with the city was binding.  Johnson and the
mayor didn't say much at all.  I refused to defend myself.  I told them
that I didn't think anyone could fault the way I was doing my job, and that
my private life was no one's business.  I just wouldn't be drawn into a
discussion of my lifestyle."

He had another cracker with caviar and took another sip of the champagne.
"Good stuff!  Thanks, Dougie.  This was a splendid idea!"  He twinkled at
me with those cobalt eyes and my cock began to ooze.  I raised my glass to
him but didn't say anything.

He took a deep breath.  "So.  After a lot of yakking, Henderson moved to
terminate my contract on the ground of `misconduct.'  If Florence knew
anything about parliamentary procedure, she wouldn't have let any
discussion take place until there was a motion on the floor, but I wasn't
going to quibble about that.  When they voted, it was Henderson and Byers
for the motion, Spoleto and Johnson against.  The mayor refused to break
the tie.  Henderson was furious, and I don't think Spoleto was too pleased,
either.  But apparently the commission by-laws give her that option."

I couldn't contain myself any longer.  "So, dammit, Stanley.  What
happened?"

He gave me this shit-eating grin.  "I said that since the motion had not
passed, things could go on as they had been.  But that I had a proposal for
them.  I said that, if they wouldn't invoke the penalty for breaking the
contract, I'd submit my resignation, citing `personal reasons.'"

"Damn!  I didn't want you to do that.  You deserve better than that."

"Chill, sweetheart.  This is not so bad.  I think even Spoleto and Johnson
were relieved.  I don't know what Madame Mayor thought.  But they jumped at
my offer.  I went back to my office, wrote up the letter, and
hand-delivered it to the mayor's office."

"Effective when?"

"Effective as soon as they can find a replacement or December 31st,
whichever comes first."

"God!  Stan.  That means we're free, doesn't it?"  It took me a minute to
process the implications of that.  "It means we can do whatever we damn
well want to!"

He came over and hugged me. "Yeah, babe, and ya know what else?  As a lame
duck, I don't care too much what those bastards think.  It also means I'll
be going to Waltersburg Tuesday with you, Tim, and the boys."


[I'm going to be away for a while.  Look for chapter 11 of this story in
about two weeks. --Tim]