xDate: Mon, 10 Jan 2011 09:51:01 -0800 (PST)
From: Henry Brooks <hankster1430@bellsouth.net>
Subject: The Bay Window  Short Story (Intergenerational)

When I was a child, we lived on a cul-de-sac, in a distant suburb of New
York City.  It was at the far end of Long Island, almost too far to commute
to the big city.  My dad grew up on a farm in Nebraska, and he chose to get
up early and make the hour and a half commute to work every day, just for
the luxury of living out in the country in a near wilderness.

I was an only child and so I had a big bedroom that I didn't have to share
with anyone.  The bedroom had a large bay window with a window seat.  The
seat was heavily padded and when my folks believed that I was all tucked in
and sleeping peacefully, I would get out of bed, sit on the padded window
seat and stare out at my quiet undisturbed cul-de-sac.  I would stare out
at nothing in particular for hours on end.  Sometimes I even fell asleep on
the seat, but more often than not I would creep into bed as my eyes began
to close.

Because we lived on a circle, none of the windows in either of the two
houses that flanked ours, lined up exactly with any of ours.  But one night
I discovered something interesting about the Henderson house next door.
Directly across from my bedroom, but a couple of feet back, I could see the
Henderson's master bed room window.  The window actually faced a blank
section of our outside wall.  A street lamp shone between our two houses
and partially illuminated the Henderson's bedroom window.

I must have been six years old when I first noticed that the light from the
street lamp allowed me to see into their bedroom for about three or four
feet.  I was viewing at an angle, and mind you, the images weren't perfect
and clear.  What I saw was more like silhouettes against a darkened
background, but I was able to discern whatever it was that I saw, and it
was quite shocking.

I guess the Henderson's thought that they were in a perfectly private place
because they never pulled down a shade or a blind.  On this one particular
night, it was snowing quite heavily and I was sitting on the window seat
watching the swirling snow.  The light from the street lamp was reflecting
off the snow flakes, and illuminating more of the Henderson's bedroom than
usual.  Mr. and Mrs. Henderson were standing in front of the window and
undressing each other.

I thought they were really slow at their task.  I could have been undressed
in a quarter of the time.  I was fascinated by what I was viewing and my
eyes were glued to the window.  It was quite exciting for me to see our
next door neighbors getting naked.  I was too young to realize that I was
being a voyeur, or that what I was doing was just not nice, and I could be
labeled a peeping Tom.

Mr. Henderson had what appeared to be a small baseball bat, sticking out
from between his legs.  (Remember how young I was.  I had never seen an
erect penis in my life at the time.)  They were kissing each other and
Mrs. Henderson was stroking the bat.  Suddenly she fell to her knees and
took the bat into her mouth.  She seemed to be sucking it like a lollipop.
This went on for a few minutes.  Then she stood up and they walked out of
sight of the window.  I assumed that they were going to bed.

What I witnessed fascinated me.  I thought of asking my father about the
baseball bat and why Mrs. Henderson would suck on it, but some sixth sense
told me never to tell anyone what I had witnessed.  I continued to observe
Mr. and Mrs. Henderson often over the next few years, and as I grew older I
realized that what I witnessed was a prelude to the nasty secret things
married couples did together.

When I myself began to get erections, I realized that Mr. Henderson had one
of those and not a bat after all.  Boy he was big compared to my miniature
weenie.  I must add that not once in any of my observations of their
prelude to sex, did I myself get aroused.  Then I saw something one night
that not only aroused me, but caused my first nocturnal emission, and that
was closely followed by my first ejaculation by masturbation.  I think I
was about eleven years old when I witnessed something that would change the
course of my life.

The Hendersons had no children, much to my regret.  Mrs. Henderson was a
high powered corporate attorney and travelled often on business.  When she
was away, my mother often asked Mr. Henderson to come to dinner.  If his
wife was to be gone all week, he would come over one night during that
week.  He would spend the other nights in the city or at home.

Early one Sunday evening, I heard a horn honk.  I looked out our front
living room window and could see a taxi in front of the Henderson home.
Mr. Henderson was coming down the walk with two suitcases and
Mrs. Henderson was right behind him.  The taxi driver took the suitcases
from Mr. Henderson and put them in the trunk.  The Hendersons kissed each
other and Mrs. Henderson got in the cab.  Mr. Henderson waved at the cab
until it was out of sight.

The next night I was sitting on my window seat, peering out the big bay
window, when I saw Mr. Henderson's car pull up his driveway.  The automatic
garage door opened to admit him, and then closed behind him.  The only
thought I had at the time was that he had gotten home later than usual, and
I reckoned he had eaten dinner in the city.  I climbed into bed, but I
wasn't sleepy, so I got out again and took my seat in the window.  Since
Mrs. Henderson was away, I didn't expect a floor show that night.  Boy was
I wrong.

Automatically my eyes were drawn to the revealing bedroom window, and I was
shocked to see two figures framed in the glass.  They were kissing just as
the Hendersons did and I could tell they were fondling each other.  I had
never seen Mr. Henderson fondle his wife.  The two figures pulled apart and
I gasped.  There were two men in the room and they both had erections.
Mr. Henderson's was way bigger than the other guy.  Suddenly he fell to his
knees and took his guest's cock into his mouth.  (Yes, I had started
calling a penis, a cock by this time.)  This went on for a bit and then
Mr. Henderson stood up.  They kissed some more and then the guest fell to
his knees and took Mr. Henderson's cock into his mouth.  After a very short
time, they moved out of range of my view.

I found myself breathing heavily.  I had an erection.  There was a sticky
fluid on the tip of my cock and I wiped it off with a tissue.  I stared at
the window for a long time after that, but I didn't see anything more.
Finally I went to bed.  I dreamed Mr. Henderson took my cock into his
mouth, and then I did that to him.  Before the night was over I had my
first wet dream.

I was up before dawn else I would not have seen Mr. Henderson's car leave
his driveway so early in the morning.  By the light of the street lamp I
could clearly see another man in the passenger seat.  I glanced down and
saw that I had a throbbing erection.  I knew nothing about masturbation,
but I started to rub my cock.  In just a few strokes a strange feeling came
over me.  I wanted to stop rubbing my cock, but I couldn't.  It felt too
damned good.  Suddenly it happened; my first orgasm.  I didn't know what to
make of it.  It was wonderful, and at the same time I was scared to death.

It was at that moment that I made a vow to myself.  I was determined that
someday, somehow, I was going to get Mr. Henderson to do that to me.  I
didn't know it at the time, but I was also marking my fate.  I was gay and
would be gay until the day I died.  I would be fifteen, nearly sixteen,
before I would put it all together and make sense of the whole thing.  It
wasn't until then that I would identify myself as gay.  The craziest
thought ran through my head that early morning.  I prayed that
Mrs. Henderson would never find out about Mr. Henderson's activities and
divorce him, forcing him to move away.

In the next few years, I had the good fortune to witness Mr. Henderson
participate in his after hours activities with many men of different
heights and cock sizes.  The show was usually short and I would find myself
praying that the Hendersons would move their bed closer to the window.  I
never got aroused when I witnessed Mrs. Henderson fondling her husband, but
I sure nearly exploded when he was playing with another man.  I would watch
for the few minutes I could catch a glimpse of them.  While watching them
suck each other's cocks, I would whack off hoping I would cum before they
disappeared from sight.  They usually did, leaving me to my imagination
while I continued to jack off.

Shortly after my thirteenth birthday I went into business cutting lawns in
the summer and shoveling driveways in the winter.  Mr. Henderson was my
first customer.  One hot summer Sunday afternoon I was cutting the lawns of
the entire population of the cul-de-sac.  Mr. Henderson came out of his
house and into his back yard while I was cutting his lawn.  He carried a
tray with two glasses.  He told me to take a break and join him on his
patio for cold lemonade.

Now if I haven't made it clear to you, I was a sneaky, devious little imp.
I knew Mr. Henderson would be watching me when I cut his lawn, so I put on
the skimpiest pair of shorts I could find.  They were old and well worn,
and I had outgrown them months ago.  My tiny package was made more
prominent than it deserved to be.  Of course, I wore no underwear, and when
I sat down, you could see my balls and maybe the tip of my cock.  So there
I was thinking I was going to arouse Mr. Henderson's interest, when he sat
down and joined me in a glass of lemonade.

I nearly swooned.  He was attired just like me, and when he sat down, I
could clearly see his balls and some of his enormous cock.  I could not
take my eyes away, and so he caught me staring.  That was fair because he
was staring at me too.  When I raised my eyes and glanced at him, I saw him
smiling at me.  Not knowing what to do, I smiled back.  Two years down the
pike, I might even have confided in him that I was gay just to see how he
would react to it.  At that point in time, I was just beginning to suspect
my sexual orientation.

As I finished the lemonade and rose to continue my work, he smiled at me
again and said, "You should always wear those shorts, Jimmy baby.  The eye
candy is a welcome sight for these poor old eyes."  Old eyes indeed.
Mr. Henderson was in his prime and quite a hunk.  I don't know when he did
it, but he must have worked out a lot.

"OK, Mr. Henderson," I said, "whatever you say."  I smiled at him and went
over to restart the mower.

Immediately he answered, "Please Jimmy, call me Phil."

"Sure Phil," I said.  I could feel my cock rising and I had to retreat from
him in a big hurry.

Shortly after my fifteenth birthday, the fates began to conspire heavily in
my favor.  Two events occurred in quick succession to aid me in my quest to
seduce Phil.  Mrs. Henderson was away on a business trip and the male to
male activity in Phil's bedroom was almost non stop, I wanted so much to
barge into his bedroom and beg to get in on the action, but all I could do
was jerk off.

On Tuesday night, during the week she was away, Phil came to dinner.  It
was a steamy, hot summer night and he and my dad, as well as myself, were
all wearing shorts.  I wore no underwear and I wondered about Phil.  I was
to discover that he was wearing jockey shorts after all.  I could see them
when he sat.  They did nothing to hide his package.

"I have big news," he said during dessert.  "I've been busting to tell you
all night.  I've quit my job."  My heart sank down into the cellar.  Was
Phil going to move away?  "I'm thoroughly fed up with the rat race," he
added.

"What are you going to do?" I screamed out in an unseemly manner.  My
father looked at me with displeasure.

"Funny you should ask, Jimmy," Phil said.  "You all know the store at the
railroad station.  Well I bought it.  It's open now from 5AM to 10AM and
then closes until 3PM.  It closes again for the night at 9PM.  The whole
operation is designed to catch the commuters.  You know, coffee and Danish
in the morning, newspapers, magazines, greeting cards, even sandwiches to
go, if the commuter is of the mind to brown bag it.  I don't expect a big
evening business, and I was thinking of hiring a high school kid or a
retiree to man the store.  I'd come in to close up of course," he
concluded.

I thought I would swoon.  Immediately I could picture us alone in the
store, closing up.  In my vision I grab his cock and he grabs mine and we
make wild love in the back room.

"I'd like to apply for the job," I yelled out.  I could come in directly
from school.  If it's as quiet as you say, Mr. Henderson (I called him that
in front of my father) I bet I could even get some homework done."

"I can't think of anyone I would want more," Phil answered.  He looked at
my mom and dad.  "What do you say, Dan?" he asked.

"There wasn't much my dad could say so he finally said, "Well, OK.  Let's
see how it will work out.  When are you taking over and when will Jimmy
start?"

"It's mine in three weeks.  The old owner is staying with me for a couple
of weeks when I take over to show me the ropes.  I think Jimmy and I should
both work the evening shift during that time and learn together.  What do
you say, Jim?" he asked looking at me.  It didn't escape my notice that
Phil called me Jim and not Jimmy.

"It sounds great to me," I answered.

Mrs. Henderson came home early and unexpectedly the next evening from her
business trip, and she caught Phil with his trick.  She stormed out taking
her car, and we never saw her again.  Phil told me later that she was ready
to leave him anyway.  She totally disapproved of his quitting his lucrative
job and buying this loser store, as she put it.  She already had an
apartment in the city where she was planning to spend more time and
eliminate some of the long commute.  Phil had told her he preferred to live
in the country (I knew why) and they were at odds about almost everything
anyway.  Catching him in the act was just the final straw.  Of course, Phil
just told my folks that they split, and he judiciously left out all the
rest.

The very first night when I was in the store alone, Phil drove up about 8PM
to begin closing with me.  I saw a man get out of his car, walk to the
commuter parking area and drive off.  Lucky Phil could now entertain every
afternoon anytime he wanted to.  I became insanely and irrationally jealous
and vowed somehow to let him know how I felt about him.

"How's it going?" Phil asked as he entered the store.

"It's been really quiet for the past hour.  I had only one customer about
fifteen minutes ago.  I even got my homework done," I reported back to him.

"Well, let's start securing everything, and if there's no action, we can
close a little early," he said.  "You start and I'll take care of your
bike."  I came to the store directly from school riding my bike.  Phil had
rigged up a bike rack on the back of his mini van, and now he went outside
to secure my bike to it, as I started to sweep the store and wipe the
counter tops.  By the time we were done it was only 8:30, a good half hour
before closing.

I screwed up my courage, and I said to him, "Phil, there is something I'd
like to talk to you about before we leave.  May I?"

"Sure," he said.  He looked concerned.  "You aren't going to quit already,
are you?"  "Hell no!  I like working for you.  I like being with you," I
stammered.  Was that TMI?

"So shoot," he said.  "We've got time.

"OK." I said.  I gulped in some fresh air and blurted out, "Phil, I'm gay
and I don't know how to tell my parents or if I even should."

Phil turned beet red.  "Why are you asking me?" he said.  His voice was
stern.  It was like he was demanding to know if I knew about him.  Should I
tell him?  I thought not.

"I respect your opinion, Phil.  I know you won't judge me, and I have
nobody else to talk to.  You're like a father to me.  No, more like a best
friend."

Phil said nothing.  He locked the store from the inside, turned the sign to
"CLOSED" and said, "Let's go in the back.  We can sit and talk for a bit.
I nodded and headed for the back room.  My knees were shaking.  Phil turned
off all the lights in the store except the night light and followed me in.

There was a sofa and an easy chair in the back.  I chose the sofa, hoping
Phil would join me, but he sat down on the easy chair.

We were both silent.  Neither of us knew what to say.  Finally Phil cleared
his throat.  "Are you sure?" he asked.  "Have you ever had sex with another
boy, or another girl for that matter?"

"No, but I know," I said assuredly.  "It's all I think about."  I
hesitated, but decided to plunge right in.  "It's all I think about when I
jerk off."

"I see," Phil said adopting a very academic tone of voice.  "Tell me about
your masturbation fantasies," he inquired.  He was squirming in his seat,
and he adjusted his package.  He didn't try to hide what he was doing.

"I always imagine as hard as I can that some handsome guy is sucking my
cock or I am sucking his.  Sometimes, I imagine what it would be like if I
fucked him and if he fucked me.  I try to imagine his cock up my ass."  I
wasn't holding back now and I could see Phil was getting mighty
uncomfortable.

"Should I not be telling you all this?" I asked.  "But you did ask me," I
justified my revelations.

"No, Jim, it's fine.  Do you fantasize about one particular school mate or
a teacher or is the lover you fantasize about some nameless face?"

This was my moment.  It was do or die.  "I always fantasize about one
person, Phil.  It's always you."

Phil gasped.  He jumped up and I could clearly see his hard on bulging in
his pants.  He sat down next to me and took my hands in his.  "From the
first time you cut my lawn, and enticed me by allowing me to see your balls
and cock, I have wanted you," he said.  He put his arms around me and began
to kiss me.  I melted into him, kissing him passionately.

"You know about me, don't you?" he asked with a grin.  "How did you find
out?  I have always been so discreet, driving directly into the garage and
closing the door behind me."

I told him about my bay window and the softly padded window seat, and how
the street lamp allowed me a skewed view into his bedroom.  I thought he
would be angry, but he just laughed.

"Well, hell," he said.  "Your voyeurism has brought us to this moment, and
I'm glad, but it must remain our secret.  Your father could have me thrown
in jail if he finds out."

"I'm not a baby," I said.  "I'm well aware of that, and you don't have to
worry."

"Before we leave," Phil said, "I think we have time for me to give you your
first blow job, if you want."

"I want," I answered.  I stood up and dropped my pants.  I sat down again
and Phil leaned over and took me into him. The moist warmth of his tongue
licking up and down my cock was too much for a nearly sixteen year old.  I
came much too quickly.  To my delight, he swallowed all my cum.

"I want to do that to you," I said.

"You can lick me, but I just had a three hour session with a trick, and I
don't think I can come again for awhile, but I want you to taste a man's
cock.  Consider it Sex Education 101."

He bared himself and I gasped.  He was at least eight inches of circumcised
cock.  But it wasn't so much the length as the girth.  Phil's cock looked
like a medium sized salami.  I got very little of him into me, but it was a
delight.  His head was covered with precum and I licked it all up.  I
savored it.  I wanted more.  I wanted him to cum in my mouth, but I knew it
would have to wait.

"When can we do it for real?" I asked.

"I'll come in earlier tomorrow and we'll close earlier.  If we are late
getting you home, we'll tell your parents that we had a last minute flurry
of business," Phil suggested.  He grabbed me and kissed me.  Tomorrow
afternoon seemed like an eternity away.

Phil and I got into the habit of pleasuring ourselves a little bit after
closing. I found that unsatisfactory.  I wanted to spend as much time with
him as one of his tricks.  I still couldn't get more than the head of his
cock into me, and I had no opportunity to practice more fellatio.  I was
also dismayed that his bedroom was still an active site for male sex.  He
knew I could see him now so he spent more time at the window.  Once while
his trick was down on him, he actually blew me a kiss.  I blew one back,
but he couldn't see into my window.

Shortly after my sixteenth birthday, my parents received an invitation to
my cousin's wedding in Nebraska.  They felt that I was old enough to be
left alone, but they asked Phil to look after me.

"Why doesn't he stay with me?" Phil inquired, "This way he doesn't have to
be alone in this big house.  I would be glad to have the company.  It's
lonely for me too, being alone in my house."  Boy was that a lie.

My mother was all sympathy and even boldly told Phil that he should be
looking for a good women to take away his loneliness.

"I'm not ready yet," Phil answered her, and she exuded even more sympathy.
In the end, it was agreed that I could stay with Phil.  As we were closing
the store the night before my folks left, Phil grinned at me and said, "Are
you ready for Sex Education 202?"

"You bet," I answered.

"Look Jim," Phil said.  "I've cancelled all my tricks for the whole week,
but I couldn't cancel the one for tomorrow night.  He'll be waiting at the
station for us when we close up.  You might as well experience a threesome
also.  He's a lot smaller than me and I thought it would be a good idea for
his smaller cock to take your cherry before I do.

I wanted to spend my first REAL sexual encounter alone with Phil, but I was
in no position to argue.  Besides, I would have him alone all week.

The next night was rather chilly and Phil's trick, Conrad, did not wait on
the station platform.  He came into the store to warm up and wait for us to
close.  He knew that I was joining them that night so we both eyed each
other with lust.  Conrad was not much older than I.  He told me that he was
a freshman at Hofstra University and would not be eighteen for another
month.  So we were both jail bait.  I was delighted that Phil liked
twinkies, but I despaired thinking what my fate would be when I was too old
for him?

When we got home that night, Phil wasted no time.  I could tell he was
horny and very aroused at what we were about to experience.  He squeezed us
all into his oversized shower.  We soaped each other all over.  I never
knew which one of them was fondling my cock because my eyes were closed the
whole time.

"Face the wall," Phil instructed me kindly.  "Put your hands on the shower
wall and stick your butt out."  He was instructing me, but his voice got
kinder and softer.  He didn't want to scare me.  I did as he instructed and
suddenly I felt something warm against the crack of my ass.  Phil was on
his knees and he was rimming me.  He had told me about rimming, but this
was our first opportunity to experience it.

I was squirming and moaning in pleasure.  Conrad began to fondle my very
hard cock.  "My turn," he said to Phil and they switched positions.  Conrad
resumed rimming me and I had all I could do to stay standing.  Only the
crowded conditions in the shower kept me up.  Suddenly, I felt a finger
invade my ass.  I assumed it was Conrad's.  It was well soaped and slid in
and out easily.  I continued to moan in pleasure, so I felt a second and
then a third finger entered me.  Conrad was stretching me with those
fingers and I felt nothing but pleasure.  He inserted a fourth finger.  One
more and his whole fist would be in me.

"I can't believe this," Phil murmured.  "Let me look, Conrad," he ordered,
still speaking in a very kind voice.  When Conrad removed his fingers I
wanted to cry.  I felt empty and unfulfilled.  Phil stretched my ass cheeks
and took a good look at my ass hole.

"My God," he said.  "Jim honey, you have the biggest ass hole opening I
have ever seen.  Resume the position.  I am going to enter you myself."  I
was elated.  He soaped my ass hole and his cock, and he entered me.  He
slipped in almost too easily and we were all amazed.  I felt no pain.  Only
pleasure.  "Try to constrict your ass muscles around my cock," he
whispered.  I did and he moaned, "That's better.  My boy, you are a natural
bottom."

"But I want to experiencing fucking also," I objected.

"You will.  Don't worry." Phil said as he started pumping.  After a few
moments, Conrad soaped up Phil's ass and entered him just as easily as Phil
had entered me.  We fell into a rhythm, like well trained dancers.  Phil's
cock was massaging my prostate and I felt myself cumming.  I tried to stop
myself.  I wanted the pleasure to continue for as long as possible.  When I
came I must have constricted my ass hole even more and Phil came screaming
in my ear.  That did it for Conrad too.

We rinsed ourselves off and got into Phil's big bed.  Phil would take him
to the station when he opened the store in the morning and I could stay in
bed.  The next day was Saturday and there was no school.

I was awakened during the night.  There was a lot of activity going on in
the bed.  I glanced at the luminous dial on Phil's alarm clock.  It was 3AM
and my bedmates were playing sixty-nine.  "Hey, no fair," I yelled.  They
both laughed and split up.  Then we formed a daisy chain, and we each came
again.  It was Phil's cum I swallowed, and I was secretly glad about that.
We collapsed on the bed with Phil in the middle.  He put an arm around each
of us and kept kissing us until I wished he would stop.  I so wanted to
sleep.  I was exhausted.

Phil and I continued to have sex together over the next two years, until I
left for college.  I had been accepted to a pre-med program at the
University of Chicago.  Leaving Phil was the hardest thing I ever did.  He
kept assuring me that I would find someone my age to love at the
university, and that it was proper that I should look for someone my own
age.

He was right of course.  At the university I met plenty of hot young men
and I enjoyed many a one night stand.  It was rare that I saw anyone more
than once.  I could not love any of them the way I loved Phil.  I went home
for Thanksgiving, but we could not manage to get together.  I sat in my bay
window looking at his bedroom window all that weekend, and cried myself to
sleep.  He had a different lover every single night.

I returned home for a longer Christmas break, and I helped him out in the
store.  This gave us the opportunity to enjoy a couple of quickies.  I was
totally disappointed.  My one night stands were looking better and better
and were certainly more satisfying.

In the middle of the spring semester I got a note from Phil.  It read in
part: I'm sure you'll be home for Easter.  I can't wait to see you, but I
must tell you that I have met my soul mate who will be moving in with me
before you get home.  Try to understand the obstacles you and I would face
in any kind of a relationship.  You are still the handsomest guy I know and
I swear you will find your special someone soon.  All my love, Phil.

I came home with trepidation.  During the first dinner I had at home with
my parents, I wondered what my parents would think about Phil moving a man
in with him right next door.  I was still very much in a dark closet of my
own making.  I tried to be delicate.

"Have you met your new neighbor yet?" I asked

"Oh yes," my mother answered.

"This is the best thing that ever happened to Phil after the witch he was
married to," my dad added.

I was shocked to say the least, but I wasn't ready to come out just yet.
After all, Phil wasn't their only child and heir.  I was.

I sat at my bay window that evening, waiting for Phil to come home from
work.  As usual he drove into the garage and closed the automatic door.  I
would have to wait until Phil went to his bedroom, and prepared for
whatever, to catch a glimpse of his soul mate.

Phil knew I was home.  When he stood in front of the window, it appeared to
me that he was already naked.  He raised his arm and waved to me even
though he couldn't see me.  He knew I'd be there.  His lover literally fell
into his arms.  He was much shorter than Phil, but just about everyone he
slept with was shorter than he.  At some point they separated and I got the
shock of my life.  Phil's lover was no he.  The person in his room was a
woman.  I stared and stared until they disappeared out of my sight.

I could not believe it.  I knew, and Phil knew as well, that he would never
give up male sex.  Well, I vowed then and there that I wasn't going to be
any of the men he would someday cheat with.

I was very polite when he introduced me to his Maggie, but he could see the
venom in my eyes.  I guess he chose to ignore it.  I did a good job of
avoiding him the rest of the school break.  Phil was well out of my system.
I had lost all respect for him.

Once back on campus I began to view my one night stands in a new light.  I
examined my emotions carefully.  I asked myself, would I want to have
another session with this guy?  One fantastic day, I answered myself with a
resounding YES.  Jason Whittig had absolutely invaded my heart, and from
the way he spoke, he felt the same way.

We had met at a nearby gay bar just off the campus.  He literally bumped
into me when someone accidently pushed him in the overcrowded club.  It was
love at first sight.  We had sex that very first evening, and immediately
began to date exclusively.  We took an apartment together off campus for
our sophomore year.  Before our freshman finals, we committed to each
other.  It was the happiest day of my life and Jason's too.

I sent an E Mail to my father: Dear Dad: I am too chicken to tell you this
in person so I am taking the coward's way out and E Mailing you.  Dad, I am
gay!  I have known this since I was little boy.  I thought I would never
come out of the closet, but I have met someone, and we are committed to
spending the rest of our lives together.  I can't wait for you to meet
Jason and he can't wait for me to meet his parents.  His parents already
know he's gay and have accepted it.  Please tell me that it's OK to come
home with Jason.  I'm very anxious.  I love Jason, but I love you and Mom
just as much in a different way.  That will never change, Jim

Less than an hour later, Jim got a call on his cell phone.  It was his
parents.  He shook like a leaf.  He could barely utter the simple word,
hello.

"Hi son," his father said cheerily.  Jim could only wonder if he had
received and read his E Mail message.

"Did you get my message?" Jim asked in a shaky voice.

"Of course, Jimmy, but I didn't understand it."  What was not to
understand?  Jim was certainly non-plussed.

"Mom and I have known that you were gay since you were maybe about
thirteen, we couldn't understand this sudden unnecessary confession."

Jim almost fainted.  He was left speechless.

"Wanna hear something funny?" his father asked.  "Your mom and I thought
Phil next door was that way too.  We were afraid he was making moves on
you.  I was getting ready to hire a private detective, but then he got
engaged to that sweet Maggie and I realized how foolish I was."

Jim found his voice and lied.  "Oh Dad, how could you think I could be
interested in a man old enough to be my father?"

"I know.  I was foolish.  Now you listen.  We can't wait for you to get
home, and we are looking forward to meeting your Jason.  We love you too,
son."

When I hung up, I had an epiphany.  I was no longer angry at Phil.  He was
doing what he had to do.  I felt sorry for him (and for Maggie).  He wasn't
being honest with himself.  Jason and I discussed it at length and agreed
that we would always be honest with ourselves and with the world.  Next
school year when we roomed together, we would let everyone know that we
were life partners and not just room mates.  We decided to leave the
sneaking around to Phil.  I could only wonder how long it would be before
Maggie caught him with another man.