Date: Sun, 18 Jun 2006 22:00:38 -0700 (PDT)
From: Alvaro Lopez <lopezbos@yahoo.com>
Subject: Turnabout - Part III

[Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarities between actual
events and the events in this story or the characters in this story are
purely coincidental. This story involves descriptions of unsafe sexual
acts between men for the purpose of erotic fantasy and is not intended to
condone such acts. If you are underage or homoerotic material is
otherwise illegal in your area, please do not continue. Author retains
copyright; do not duplicate this story without express written consent by
the author. Comments and suggestions are welcomed at lopezbos@yahoo.com]

TURNABOUT
Part III

We lay in the tub until he water cooled off, reluctant to return to the
present. Donny produced towels and we dried off. We dressed silently as
the tub drained. In my paranoid nature, I scanned the tub with my eyes,
then took a wad of toilet paper and wiped off stray brown hairs that
clung to the edges. Donny watched me, fascinated with the process.

"I'd never had thought of that" he murmured.

"You want to stay married?"

Donny almost jumped, "Yeah! Of course."

"Well then" I said smiling, tossing the tissue in the toilet, "you
better learn that women are a lot more intuitive and observant than men.
You wouldn't notice my hair in the tub unless it clogged the drain.
Trust me when I tell you she'd notice a single hair that didn't
belong."

Donny shook his head, "You're right, but I hate feeling like I have to
be so paranoid."

"I know, I'm not fond of it either." I checked out the rest of the
bathroom to make sure that it looked like it did when we walked in. I
tossed a towel onto the puddle on the floor. I turned to Donny. "Might
be a good time to talk about some ground rules, let me get my shirt and
we can sit down for a while."

I got my shirt from the other bathroom and saw Donny checking out the
room, looking at it as though it were a crime scene. He tossed the
washcloth into the hamper and looked up with a sheepish look on his face.
"I do the laundry" he confessed. We went downstairs, back to the living
room. We stood in the room and smiled at each other. This wasn't a place
to talk, this was a place for something our parents called `company.'

"Let me show you my barn," he said suddenly. I eagerly accepted, glad
to be out of the house and into a more neutral space. Donny led the way
through a breezeway off the kitchen into the family garage where the beat
up minivan sat forlornly surrounded by bikes, trash cans, and
miscellaneous boxes. He moved straight through to another door, and we
were in the `barn' at last.

"Used to be a horse barn" he said, flipping on the lights. The place
was cavernous. The bays I'd seen from the driveway were just the front
quarter. A horse-smell lingered in the woody, musky place. The working
area was laid out like a surgery. For a garage, it lacked the greasy,
dirty feel; for a barn, it was spotless. Towards the back sat four
sparkling classic cars, lined up like beauty queens. I let out a low
whistle.

"Only one is mine, the Camaro on the right." Donny's voice was full of
pride. "The one on the left I'm working on restoring for a guy a couple
of towns over, the other two are here for storage, but I love looking at
them, so I keep them uncovered."

The barn was a reflection of Donny, I mused. Ordinary and utilitarian on
the outside, but chock full of hidden jewels. The orderliness of the
tools and layout told me a lot about the man that used it. I nodded in
approval, not just for the cars, but for the whole package. Donny picked
up a wrench and headed towards the far end of the barn. I followed,
watching him slip into his environment without even noticing it.  He
wiped down the wrench with a rag and placed it in a drawer, then turned
and leaned against the workbench. If I could take a mental snapshot of
Donny, this would be it. Leaning casually against his workbench, his
ankles crossed, his hands in his pockets. I drank in the scene, wanting
to burn it into memory so that whenever I thought of him, it would be
like this.

"So what's the ground rules?" he asked.

I came back from my little reverie. "Rule number one," I started,
raising a finger for emphasis, "Families first."

Donny nodded, bringing his chin almost to his chest, "That's a given,"
he said.

"You'd be surprised." I muttered. "Rule number two: I'm not the
solution to your marital problems and you're not the solution to mine."

"I don't have marital problems" he said, smiling a little. I let my
eyebrows rise a bit. With that tool, I could imagine he kept his wife
very happy in bed.

"You get the gist." I said, catching myself staring at his crotch. He
laughed and nodded. "Rule number three: Outside we don't know each
other, recognize each other, or acknowledge each other."

Donny flinched, as if pinched. "What? How do you mean?"

"I mean that on the off chance you're at the mall and I'm at the mall
and we cross paths, whether we're with family or not, we don't
recognize each other."

"Shit," he said, "I thought we could be friends. Outside I mean,
publicly."

"Yeah?" I said, now watching my words, "Remember what I said back
there, women are more intuitive than men." His face twisted into a
question, and I went on, now very carefully: "I'm not sure that I could
pull off being just another guy friend in public."  Donny's face
remained questioning. I rolled my eyes. He was either being deliberately
obtuse or I was being too vague. "Right now I can't trust the way I
look at you not to betray my feelings."

A smile spread slowly across his face. "And just exactly are those
feelings?" I'd been had.

"Fuck you" I said smiling. "You look at a racquetball buddy like
that?" I threw it back at him.

"I don't have racquetball buddies, you snob. But I get your point.
But," He raised his hand, "I reserve the right to eventually recognize
you in public. Eventually, maybe. OK?"

"OK," I conceded. Nothing would make me happier than to have him in my
life, all aspects of my life, but I was cynical and dubious.

"What's rule number four?" he asked, crossing his arms and looking
again like a catalog model.

"No more rules" I said shrugging. "At least not yet. We'll make them
up as we go along."

Donny smiled and leaned back. "I've got a few rules myself," he said,
holding the smile.

I crossed my arms and leaned against the car nearest me. "Shoot."

"First one: No more guys for you." Although the smile was still there,
his eyes were deadly serious.

I kept my face impassive, holding his gaze. I let the silence linger a
second. "Well," I started, looking around dramatically, "There are so
many relationships to break off, I'll need some time to release my
harem."

"Very funny, but I mean it. Can you quit hunting?"

This was a very serious question for me, one that had cost me at least
one relationship. Even though I didn't play often, I did `hunt' all
the time, and Donny knew it. I answered honestly: "Yes." Then I smiled
at him, "Can you?" I wasn't the only one with multiple log-in names.

"Yes," he said without hesitation, "why bother?" he added, his eyes
relaxing to match his smile.  "Second," he said, looking down, "Next
time we meet, it's at your house." He raised his eyes to see my
reaction, and my expression was out before I had a chance to control it.

This time I didn't answer immediately. I had never, ever, invited any
man to my house or my office. There was a line there that I didn't know
I could cross, but then again, things were changing since this morning.
"That's a big one," I said.

"I know," he replied, a little sarcastically and I got the message. We
were, after all,  standing in his garage. If I wanted to destroy him, I
knew where he lived, what his wife looked like, and who he was. Right now
we were in a state of imbalance. His `rule' was a good way of restoring
things.

"OK," I replied. That's fair." It was easier than I expected,
"But," I added quickly, "Never on my bed, or yours. Just a pet peeve I
guess."

Donny nodded, "Yeah, that wouldn't be right," he said almost to
himself.

"Anything else?"

Donny shook his head, "The rest we'll make up as we go along I guess."

I walked across the short distance between us and put my arms around him.
He did likewise, holding me tight. "You need to go," he whispered in my
ear. I nodded. I'd been `missing' now much longer than I expected to
be. We kissed, then underwent the metamorphosis of going from intimate
lovers to casual acquaintances. Donny gave me a half-hearted smile and
walked me to my car.  He watched me do a quick pat down to make sure I
had everything I came with.

"I'll check out the crime scene again," he said half-sarcastically,
"and eliminate any DNA evidence." I gave him a mock nasty stare and
smiled. He got serious a moment, and I could tell he had a question
lurking around in his mind.

"What?"

He stared at the driveway a minute before answering, then turned to face
me full on. "When will I see you again?" he asked, his voice steady,
but clearly fighting for control. This was hard for him and I realized
that I wasn't being too empathetic. Too many things had changed for him
since the day had started, despite his level of expertise and comfort,
this was all astoundingly new.

"Next Wednesday," I replied, not sure if I could, but determined to
clear my calendar for him. "If you're available," I added, "and if
you're ready. There's no rush Donny, we've gone this long."

He nodded and smiled again, "Yeah, but I don't want to  go another year
between meetings either."

I wanted to kiss him goodbye, but it didn't feel right. His body
language was telling me he was uncomfortable being in his driveway with
me, as if there were eyes all around us. I felt the same feeling of
awkwardness, but I'd learned to deal with it long ago. To compound the
odd scenario, he extended his hand. I shook it, not too warmly, not too
long, a regular guy handshake.

On the drive home I started sorting through the events and emotions of
the morning. By the time I got home a good forty minutes later, I still
felt dazed by it all. Of all the guys I'd met, Donny was the last I'd
ever expect to have a real ongoing relationship with. But such was life.
In short order I got swept up by the duties of the day, slipping back
into the roles I'd accreted over a lifetime without really noticing. My
sexual hunger sated, I didn't give the computer a second thought the
rest of the day. Every now and then I'd feel a pang of satisfaction; I
had a lover! Then the more cynical side of me would retort that one hot
meeting does not a lover make.

Later that night, in my darkened office, it was time to make good on a
few promises. I logged on and started the process of withdrawing myself
from the many sites I'd joined. There were more than I cared to count;
some that I hadn't been to in months, but they were there. I deleted the
ads, pictures, and descriptions one at a time, being thorough and
resisting the temptation to look at past correspondence. It took me
almost an hour of dutiful cleanup to officially `retire' from the
hunting business. As I was about to log off, an IM popped up on my
screen.  It took me a minute to process the login name: TobyG.

"Hey" was the only word, his usual greeting, as if we'd been talking
just minutes ago. Toby, The one that got away.  A bi-married guy is a
weird animal, living in two worlds at the same time. You're not fully
welcome in either one, and your options for friends (naked ones) is
limited, to say the least. You're always looking at the menu, but can
rarely order. Once in a while though, you meet a fellow traveler between
the two worlds that you just click with. You get to know each other, you
get that weird thing going where you feel you've been friends a
lifetime. Sometimes you get to play, sometimes you avoid it to protect
the friendship. And if you do get to play, it may be disappointing to
learn that the spark of compatibility doesn't carry into the bed. Then
there's the time that it does. That was Toby.

We met almost five years ago, and the first time we met in person I wrote
him off. Too good looking, too hot, too self-confident (on the outside at
least). A guy like that doesn't go for a guy like me, I'm just to
average. I figured that we'd go back to being friends on line and drop
the carnal lust part, which was OK by me. I was pretty surprised to learn
he hadn't felt the same way. He wanted to play, and play we did. The
first time, we met at a cheap motel. Both of us a little freaked by the
scene, but too horny to care.

Toby had said he liked it a little rough, but I had no idea. He was shy
like me, until the spell gradually came over us both. Then he was a wild
man. After the first slow, lingering kiss, a rage overtook him. He
grabbed me as if to throw me, challenging me. I outweighed him by a good
fifty pounds and stood a good six inches over him, but he did unbalance
me enough.  He wrestled like a man possessed, and I took him like it was
the last piece of ass I'd ever have. Sex with Toby wasn't something you
experienced, it was something you survived. We got to meet a few more
times that summer, the last time I had bruises that lasted a week (and
had a hell of a time explaining away). Then his company moved him to the
Midwest. In a little under a month, he was gone, and I'll admit I missed
him more than I thought I could. I used to tell him that when I was with
him I ached afterwards, and now that he was gone, I ached all the time.
He thought I meant my balls, and I let him think that.

We kept in touch via the internet, and we talked on the phone now and
then, but the reality was that he was six states away. The communications
faded over time, picked up once in a while to catch up on each others'
lives, but not like it had been. The last time I'd chatted with him was
almost six months now. He had a regular guy in the next town, a nice guy
too. I was glad for him, and envious of him.

"Gonna be in town next week" said the next line.

"Shit" I said out loud. My dog gave me a look, then went back to sleep.
I typed `why?' not wanting to add `now' but thinking it instead.
It'd been almost three years since I'd seen him in the flesh. Three
years of meetings for coffee with guys I wouldn't look at twice and vice
versa. Three years of one-time encounters to ease the urge enough to keep
up the hunt. Three years of frustration and self-doubt. Ended this
morning.

"Boss wants me to represent at conference, knows I know the area and the
local reps, so I'm coming. I want to see you."

The little prick had his dominant moments. I typed: "How long will you
be in town, and what does Jose say about that?" I liked his buddy Jose,
and I knew Toby could be a tom cat at times. I wasn't thinking about
Donny as much as Toby; when he went home, I didn't want him to lose Jose
over me.

"Can't really talk now, kids home. Jose not an issue, see you on tues,
I'll e-mail the details." And he signed off. I turned off the computer
and went to bed. Too much to think about.

The weekend passed uneventfully, but I was distracted the whole time.
Dinner with friends, a movie, odd jobs and errands, all covered for my
lack of focus. I thought of Donny, particularly when I had to sit through
a movie on my sore ass, and I thought of Toby, particularly when he sent
me his hotel information and times he'd be around. I felt like a bastard
telling him I'd meet him for lunch on Tuesday. I'd managed to keep my
promise to Donny all of forty-eight hours. I rationalized it by treating
Toby like a pre-existing condition, a friend. I promised myself I
wouldn't do anything with him on Tuesday.

I arrived at the hotel lobby ten minutes late. Parking was a bitch in
town.  I looked around, but no Toby. I hadn't heard from him since
Saturday, so maybe his plans has changed. I decided to grab a paper and
sit down. I'd give him thirty minutes, then head out. Halfway through
the paper, I felt two hands on my shoulders.

"The Sox are doomed, don't even hope," he said. I jumped up, partly
from being grabbed and partly from hearing his voice again. I could give
a shit that we were in a downtown hotel, in the lobby, in full view of
everyone. I hugged him, remembering to clap him hard enough on the back
to dislodge a lung to let everyone around know it was a straight-guy hug.
He did the same, and you'd have to look very closely to see the crotch
rub that went between us.

"Man you look great Toby" I said at last, still holding him by the
shoulders at arms length.

"You do too man, you look better. That gym paid off, eh?" He mock
punched me in the stomach, hard. I knew Toby, so I tightened up my
stomach fast, so he hit rock. A crooked smile crossed his face. You'd
have to know Toby to know this was foreplay. "Let's grab a bite, I'm
starving."

He led the way to the hotel dining room. We sat and ordered, talking
about our families, kids, work, everything that friends talk about. Once
in a while our ankles would cross under the table, lingering together too
long, rubbing too hard. By the time dessert arrived I was loaded for
bear.

"I want to change out of this straightjacket" he said casually,
"Let's go upstairs."

"Don't you have to get back to the conference?" I asked, but I knew
the answer by his look.

"No, I'm done until this evening. The rest of the team is sightseeing,
but I've been there, done that, so I'm taking it easy until I have to
wine and dine the prospects." He signed the check and got up, assuming
I'd follow. Of course, I did. In all the times that we'd met in seedy
motels, we'd joked about a room in a nice respectable hotel in town,
with nice towels and nice beds and real hot showers. Donny crossed my
mind, followed instantly by the thought that what he didn't know,
wouldn't hurt him.

"So what about Jose?" I asked as the elevator doors cut us off from the
public.

"Jose is done," he said flatly. "His wife intercepted an e-mail three
months ago..." The doors opened and Toby stopped abruptly. We walked down
the hall in silence, then into his room. He picked it up again there: "I
got an e-mail from his account, written by her, telling me to stay away
from her husband.  Hell hath no fury."

"Man that sucks," I said, not really knowing what to say.

"More than you know. For the first month I kept expecting her to show up
at my house or office. You know how it is after a while, you don't
always remember to cover your tracks."

I nodded. Toby was notorious for leaving a wide and deep trail of his
extracurricular activities. The only thing that kept him from being outed
was the fact that his wife didn't really give a shit about where he was
at any given moment. She had her own life and as long as Toby took care
of the house and kids, she was happy to ignore things that would have
sent red flags up for anyone else. "Anything?" I asked.

"No, I think Jose got her calmed down. The e-mail she saw was pretty
ordinary, just asking how the job was and regular stuff. We used the
phone to arrange things. I'm guessing she got into his account somehow
and read his profile. He had a long list of contacts before we met, so
she had a lot of guys to choose from. Jose won't sell me out, there's
nothing in it for him. He knew she was watching him too." He shook his
head, "Poor bastard."

"I guess not hearing from him is good, it means they're still
together." I said hopefully.

"Yeah, that's why he's a poor bastard. She's a bitch on wheels. Has
him totally pussy-whipped, and that was before she knew he was taking it
up the ass."

I raised my eyebrows in question. Toby laughed, "Yeah, I flipped, but
not all the time. He really needed to learn how to top, so I taught
him."

It was my turn to laugh, "So when he beats the crap out of his next
partner, he's going to wonder why the guy thinks he's weird."

Toby frowned, "Actually, it wasn't like that with him. He wasn't
like..." he looked at me, and half-smiled.

"Me?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, looking down, "He was a real nice guy and all, but it
wasn't as intense."

"You never told me that."

"I know, I didn't want you to think I was pining for you, asshole."

All at once, three years evaporated. We were back in that seedy motel,
stealing time from our schedules to sate a hunger that would overcome us
if we didn't. I reached over to him and grabbed the front of his shirt,
popping off the top button in the process. He grabbed me at the same
time. When our lips met, we drew blood from the collision. Three years is
a long time, regardless of Donny.

When guys say they `tore their clothes off' it's figurative. Not this
time. I only half-wondered if it was my underwear or shirt that ripped, I
didn't care. Toby's hands were all over me, and mine all over him.
Clothes were keeping us from that contact we craved desperately. No one
watching would have labeled it as gentle, but it was. I wanted Toby in
his naked glory, muscles tense, sweating, erect, and almost vibrating
with energy. There was a sense of urgency that drove us on, the need to
connect on a purely animal level.

I bear-hugged him, hard, feeling the breath leave him. He grabbed my
shoulders and arched his back, breaking my grip and nearly flipping me
onto the bed. Horizontally, he had the advantage. I pulled him down on
top of me, just long enough to rotate him under. His legs flailed out,
catching my thigh with his knee. That was going to leave a mark, but it
only served to heat me up more. I pinned him down, arms spread, my hands
on his wrists. He fought me, squirming and bucking up, but the gym really
had paid off. I kissed him hard, then used my legs to try and open his,
but he beat me to it, hooking his ankles behind my knees and spreading my
legs out painfully. Our cocks ground together, both from desire and
simple geometry; as he worked to cause me pain, he pulled me tighter into
him.

I put my head down next to his, bit his earlobe and then whispered,
"I'm going to take your tight little ass and there's nothing you can
do about it." He grunted and bucked, loosening my grip enough to squirm
an arm free. He shoved my chest, pulling on his legs at the same time,
and we rolled over. I still had his arm, and my other one was grabbing
his ass tightly. I pulled his arm back behind him and he winced in pain.
Far enough to let my free hand grab his wrist. I had him now.

Sweat was pouring off both of us, and I used it to my advantage. I bucked
up, pushing him back. Now my cock was in his crack and he seized it.

"You want this?" he said between clenched teeth. My answer was to
thrust upwards, letting my shaft settle between his cheeks. "Rubber
first," he said, giving my cock a squeeze. I leaned towards the night
table, and he quickly moved on me. In a second, he had inverted himself,
pinning my arms with his knees and straddling my chest, giving me a great
view of my target, but leaving me pinned.

He leaned back, and I tilted my head forward as far as I could, his
elusive ass just outside of my reach. I grunted, and he descended on my
throbbing cock with his overeager mouth. I jerked up, trying to get him
closer, but he held fast. Toby's mouth was all over my cockhead, sucking
it to the point where it hurt. Blood rushed into my already engorged
organ and pounded painfully. I tried to move my arms, but he dug his legs
in harder. With one hand he pulled on my nuts, with the other he grabbed
my abs hard enough to make me grunt. His mouth continued to work on my
cock, bringing me closer to orgasm. He knew how to keep it just on the
edge. He slid his hands under my ass and grabbed my cheeks, another
grunt. My hips moved of their own accord, aiming my member at his throat,
even as he dodged it.

I planted my feet and pushed up, ramming my cock into his mouth hard. His
teeth hurt like hell, but it was a small price to pay to throw him off
balance. I got my hands free and pushed him down more onto my cock,
driving up with my legs at the same time. I felt him gag and squirm, but
my arms were free now. He pushed down on the bed, then on my thighs, but
he was in a vice. I eased up and he pulled off, taking a huge gulp of
air. He sat down hard on my chest, knocking some wind out of me. I
grabbed the condoms off the table and tore the package with my teeth, all
the while using my other arm to try and get a grip on the slippery sinewy
body trying to pin me. I wrestled him with my legs, hooking the back of
his neck and driving him into the bed between my legs. I slapped his ass
hard, a resounding crack amidst the moans and grunts. In the split second
of pain, I hurled him over, straddling him again. I grabbed his legs and
pulled them up, burying my face in his groin and ass. I thrust my tongue
out, just grazing his pucker. He moaned again, but not in pain. I reached
around his legs and parted his ass, aggressively taking my time with it.
His struggles subsided, but I knew it was temporary.

His mouth found my cock, and again he engulfed it. This only served to
make me more eager to take him. I tossed the rubber down to him, knowing
he'd put it on now, even if the fight went on longer. I felt him slide
it on, giving me a hard suck in the process. My balls were dripping with
his spit, and I was more turned on than ever. I tongued and fingered his
spasming ass hard, making him all the more eager. We were building for
that moment of penetration as if it were the orgasm itself. I knew every
inch of his body, every place to touch and lick that would send him
reeling, and he knew mine. I idly slid my cock in and out of his mouth,
working him up with each stroke. I let myself ease up on him just enough
to make him squirm out from under me, grab my waist and turn about. Face
to face now, it was a pure contest of strength, and we both knew the
outcome.

Toby struggled under me, while I grappled with his flailing arms. In
wrestling, you fight to untangle yourself from your opponent. We were
doing the opposite, struggling to embrace the opponent harder. We kissed,
painfully, passionately. My arms reached for his legs, and he gave them
willingly. Like a choreographed dance, I entered him, slowly, inexorably.
I held the kiss while I slid into him. He shuddered as I took him,
tightening his legs around me, urging me in deeper. This was what he
wanted, what I wanted. We squirmed into each other, every move focused on
the act. I wasn't taking him as much as he was allowing me to take him,
and it was perfect. There was no thrusting or pumping, but a union of our
bodies. Every muscle, every effort, for this moment.

He broke the kiss first, giving me a wicked grin. "It's not that
easy," he said, tightening his ass around me. My cock felt like it was
being overheated. In a swift move, he rolled us over, straddling me and
taking me to the very hilt. I grunted in pleasure, feeling my cock seat
firmly in his hungry ass. He ground his hips into me, torturing my balls
in the process. He rode it up and down slowly, teasing me with his ass.
If I'd learned to be a dominant bottom from someone, it was Toby. He
slid up my abs, scraping my cock with his ass in the process. It was
exquisite torture. He knew he wasn't being gentle, and he growled with
pleasure at every move. I was helpless under him, my cock his personal
toy to use.

He grabbed my balls hard, probably because he knew all my signals, and he
wasn't going to let me come so easily. He expertly moved his hips,
twisting and bending my cock inside him until I groaned from the depths
of my chest. I was helpless and he knew it. I reached for his cock and
wrapped my hand around it tightly, encircling the base and his balls with
both hands, a human cock-ring. His cock bounced and he rolled his eyes
back in his head, settling down to take every inch of me. I shook his
cock, knowing what this would do, while positioning my thumbs under and
behind to massage his prostate from outside as well as inside. I aimed my
cock and bucked, and I felt his balls surge their release despite my iron
grip. I tightened, and repeated the thrust and push, this time letting
his semen flow, and flow it did.

His first shot oozed out, pumped into his rigid member by the pre-orgasm,
but the second one cleared the pipes quickly, sending an arc almost over
my head. A third surge hit my chest, great white gobs of satisfaction
mixing with my sweat and hair. I wrung another two shots out of him,
enjoying the tightening of his ring around my cock. I was close too, but
this was Toby's moment.

Toby stayed hard after he came, which I loved because I liked to take
care of him afterwards, and this let me prolong my own orgasm longer,
knowing he'd be ready to pound nails long after he was done. As he came
down from his orgasmic high, I felt his ass tighten rhythmically. He was
milking me now, bringing me to orgasm using his own spent body. Our eyes
locked and his focus was intense. I let my hands rest on his thighs and
felt the muscles there contracting and relaxing as he concentrated on my
impaled cock. He didn't move, and I didn't either, this was the
ultimate moment for me. I felt the orgasm building in my nuts, but my
whole body was tensing for the release. If I could marshal the energy I
felt, I'd send Toby flying when I came. His pace quickened, recognizing
that I was close. My back arched as I could hold it no more, and with a
mighty surge, I began to come. Toby arched his back, threw his head back
and moaned loudly,  his cock still dripping, his ass now matching my
gentle surges. For all the world I wished there was no rubber between us.

Toby leaned back further, reaching down between his legs, slowly,
methodically birthing my spent and now very sensitive cock head. He
paused for a moment, enjoying our last second of union, then slowly slid
off with a gasp. I lay nearly unconscious, having invested every ounce of
strength into the moment. He stretched out on top of me, and gently
kissed my chest, then brought his lips to mine. The taste of his cum on
his lips was familiar, as though years hadn't kept us apart. He slid off
me slowly, settling into the crook of my arm. He looked at me in a
puzzled way.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said, then gave me a little wink. "It's weird," he
said slowly. Then he looked at me intently again, "don't get a swell
head or anything, but I really missed that."

"Me too,"  I answered. I missed it more than I cared to admit.

"Are you seeing anyone?" he asked, derailing my train of thought. I had
to consciously recall Donny, and the whole situation came rushing back at
me.

"Yes," I said, hoping it didn't sound as tentative as I thought it
did.

Toby smirked, "Slut. You should have told me before."

"I didn't really get a chance, now did I?"

Toby laughed, "Sorry about that. I don't want to screw things up for
you." His face changed a little.

"OK, I don't want to sound like a total asshole here," I started,
"but this is sort of an exceptional situation. You and I pre-date Donny,
and you're here for a short time."

"Donny?" he asked. I'd forgotten that he knew of Donny from long ago.
In fact, he'd tried to get Donny in bed too. I nodded. "You really were
desperate."

I frowned at him. "He's a good guy," I offered in defense, "and I
wasn't desperate. We just hit it off I guess."

"How serious is it?"

I hesitated, "One and only serious," I replied at last.

"Wow. How long?"

"We've only been together once," I said, and immediately realized how
stupid I sounded. Toby frowned at me.

"Are you serious?"

I nodded.

Toby went on, "One time, and you're at the `one and only' stage?
C'mon, is his ass that hot?"

I realized that explaining the Donny situation to Toby would only make
things sound weirder. The fact was that I was ready for a `one and
only' regardless. I was willing to give it a try with Donny, despite
what had just happened with Toby. I shrugged.

Toby looked at me intently, then looked away.

"What?" I asked

"Nothing." He replied, getting out of the bed.  I followed him, but he
stopped me. "You know, maybe you should go. If you're serious about
Donny, then you shouldn't be here."

"Ah yes, the married guy code, be honest with only the guys you fuck."
I said sarcastically.

"Look," Toby's neck veins were bulging a little, a sign he was getting
very pissed. I was stymied for a reason. "If you're with Donny, then
have the balls to say so."

"You're sounding like me." Toby was notorious for his lack of
commitment and rationalization gymnastics. The tables had indeed turned.

"And you're acting like me." He almost shouted it. "This isn't why I
asked you here," he said, waving a hand at the disheveled bed, "but..."

"What?" I asked, my own voice rising now.

"Never mind." He said flatly.

I grabbed him by the shoulders. "Tell me, now," I ordered.

Toby stared at the floor. "I got offered the directorship," he said,
still staring at the floor.

I smiled, "that's fantastic. Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Because I didn't get the chance." He was still staring at the floor.
There was more to this.

"And?"

"And the position is here. They want to move me back."

My hands dropped off his shoulders. "What?" My mind was reeling.

"I didn't know until this morning, I thought it was in the works, but I
wasn't sure. I didn't want to say anything to anyone until I knew for
sure. I didn't even know if you'd..." He trailed off, then walked
towards the bathroom.

I stood there, a little dumbfounded. I thought this was to be a one-time
thing between friends. "So you just wanted to see if we still had it?"
It came out harsher than I wanted it to.

Toby turned to me, "Yeah, that was my purpose, to see if you still had
it. Asshole." I felt slapped, and I deserved it. I took a step towards
him, but he put up his hand. "You better go."

I kept walking, closing the distance between us. We stood naked, facing
each other. "Toby, that's not what I meant. I just didn't expect this.
It's changed everything."

He looked at me, the intensity back. He was fighting himself now,
deciding which Toby should speak. "I fought for this job to come back
here, to be with you. I didn't expect for you to wait for me, or to even
feel the same way. I just hoped. And then this, well, I thought... never
mind."

I'm not the emotional type, and cushy talk makes me uneasy, but my mouth
moved of it's own accord. "I do feel the same way," it said, "and
`this' as you call it, is just hot sex. I was ready to leave here with
another fond memory, and ready to let you go, again. I came here hoping
that I'd see you again and feel different, but I didn't, and even then,
even when I knew that your leaving would hurt again, I wanted to be here,
because it isn't the sex, it's you, you damned asshole, and now, you're
telling me that I don't have to let you go again. I don't have to feel
that hole in my life when you're gone, and I'm supposed to just shrug
and say 'OK' right?"

"What about Donny?"

"I haven't got a clue."

[Comments and suggestions are welcomed at lopezbos@yahoo.com and
http://360.yahoo.com/lopezbos]