Date: Sun, 3 Feb 2002 18:44:33 -0800 (PST)
From: Evan Bradely <evanbradley33@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chapter 27 of "Ambush"

The following fictional story deals with sex among males.  If you
are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area
where it is not allowed, depart. Though not observed in this story,
care enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.

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

EvanBradley33@Yahoo.com

Chapter 27
Patterns:  Old and New

After Ron Hamilton left me rather breathless in my classroom at the
end of the lunch period, the rest of the day's classes intruded on
my hot fantasies about that hunk of masculine pulchritude, leaving
me with some guilt at the end of the day. After all, I was a
professional - people were depending on me to give my best. Yet not
for a moment was my mental screen without some image of Ron. Because
of those images, I continued to experience erections and spurts of
precum in my jockeys all day, especially when I undressed him in my
mind.  I never used to experience much natural lubrication before
the ambushes, but since then, precum was not unusual.  Or was it
just that Ron was a mega-turn on?

The week continued with my libido pretty much in power drive.
Initially welcome experiences, the fantasies occasionally turned in
a negative direction. Sometimes at the height of a fantasy, Ron's
face melted into Tim's.  Or suddenly a memory of those torturous
dreams where Tim ran off with a blond boy popped up, or the
nightmare with the ominous shadow man inserted itself.  I was left
uneasy, wondering if my mind was anticipating abandonment again.  My
frustration grew because, once the unwelcome memories began, they
seemed to increase in frequency.  I understood what was going on:
as I felt a relationship with Ron drawing closer, my defensive
mechanisms, which had been shaped by my history in relationships,
kicked in to protect me.  I suddenly realized my mistake:  any
individual's defensive mechanisms were shaped by his unique history;
they weren't those of another person.  I developed a new
appreciation on the spot for the push-pull syndrome that drove Tim.

Thursday morning at breakfast, studying me over a spoonful of
raisin bran, Jeremy observed, "You've changed."

I looked at him blankly.  "Why do you say that?"

"You're so quiet."

"You know how I'm usually thinking ahead to all the things I have to
do once I reach school."

"No, this is something else.  It's like you're brooding over
something or someone. I thought you'd moved past Tim."

"I have.  Besides, I'm the same person I've always been."

"Have you noticed that haven't been joking or teasing in the
classroom the way you used too?" he revealed in a rather superior
manner as though he were pleased to be ahead of me in realizing
something.

"I really hadn't thought about it."  I smiled.  "Perhaps I need
stronger vitamins."

He continued studying me.

"Now there was a joke.  You didn't react," I challenged him.  "The
usual Jeremy would have skewered me with a funny retort."

"Wasn't a joke.  You were just putting me off."

I was going to have to watch myself more closely if Jeremy could
read me that accurately.  "By the way, you'll have to fend for
yourself for dinner Friday evening.  But since it's a Friday, I
doubt my plans will affect yours much."

"Where are you going to be?" Jeremy asked.

"Ron Hamilton and I are going out to dinner."

"Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h-h.  The pieces of the puzzle are falling into
place." He grinned. "Speaking of being skewered, will you be
participating in some special Friday night recreation?"

"Don't be ridiculous.  We don't even know each other.  He knows Tim
Minor, who told him to look me up.  Did you know that Ron and Tim
exchanged teaching jobs?  Ron helped Tim locate in the capital, and
Tim suggested Ron take his former job here.  Ironic, huh?  So what
are you and Kenny doing?"

Jeremy studied me, the cogs turning.  "Since there isn't a
basketball game this Friday, some of the guys are going to a movie.
So I guess Tim was playing matchmaker, huh?  Kind of a payback for
leaving you?"

"Oh, I don't think so.  That kind of good turn is too farfetched for
Tim.  It's the behavior of a caring person."  As I dismissed his
suggestion, he started smiling, and the more I spoke, the more he
smiled.  "A caring person would have spoken at least one word to me
before he abandoned me or left town," I commented a little bitterly.
"Alan was more the caring person, you know, for he came to my office
to speak -

"Why are you grinning at me like a monkey?" I broke off to ask with
some exasperation.

"The more you put my suggestion down, the more I'm convinced that
even you have thought about it."

I pursed my lips and clammed up.  I wasn't going to change his mind,
so there was no point in wasting my breath.

He reached over, grasping my hand and holding it tightly, looking me
straight in the eyes.  "Dad, every time that you become interested in
a man you don't have to be afraid that what happened with Tim will
happen again.  And even if Tim and Ron are friends, that doesn't
mean Ron is setting you up for a fall the way Tim did. That's why
you're being so quiet, isn't it?"

Wow!  He'd put his finger right on it - even before I did.  I didn't
want to admit that he was correct. . . . But if he was going to be
my son, he had a right to give me advice and reassure me.  It went
with the territory, so to speak.  "Yes," I answered quietly.  "How
did you know?"

"I've been rejected too. . . . Does Ron seem anything like Tim?"

I thought it over.  "Based on the ten minutes I spent chatting with
him in my classroom - no."

"Maybe the time you're spending worrying about being dropped should
be spent on the possibility of a new friendship, one free from
worries."

He was correct again.  And he was speaking like a leader, I realized
with pride. Still, I wasn't certain I could shake myself free from
worry.  I was afraid of being hurt again.  I just shook my head
mutely in the affirmative.  He stared at me for a while.  Then the
corners of his mouth flicked down in a fleeting frown that was gone
as soon as it was born.

"So how did your first meeting with Ron go?" he asked.

"I behaved like an idiot."  I recounted my being mesmerized by Ron
and not being much in control of my physical behavior.

"Did he call off the date?"

"It's not a date, Jeremy," I muttered.  "He just wants to get to
know someone, to find out about the best businesses in the city to
patronize, faculty politics, stuff like that.  So the answer to your
question is that he didn't call off the dinner."

"Then you shouldn't be worrying," he suggested.  "Look at how good
things happened for me 'in the fullness of time,' as you are fond of
saying.  Maybe the fullness of your time has arrived."

'I could certainly stand some of Ron's fullness,' I thought
lasciviously.

The need for us to hustle to get to school ended the conversation,
but Jeremy's leadership stance and love for me lingered warmly.

			*     *     *

After some talking among themselves right after Christmas, it
had been decided: Jeremy, Kenny, Cody and I would give Troy and
Susan a candlelight dinner this evening at The Shadows as a Christmas
present.  The choice of restaurant was Jeremy's idea, the result of
his and Kenny's having such a romantic time there with Tony and
Angela.  I had provided the upfront funding, and Jeremy and Kenny
had driven out to The Shadows to purchase a gift certificate.
Jeremy would collect whatever Kenny and Cody wanted to throw in to
pass on to me.

Having found a blank note card, Kenny had sketched Troy and Susan on
the front. They were sitting at a table in the cafeteria, gazing at
each other in their special way.  As always, it was excellent work,
for Kenny had captured their particular "couple quality."  He had
turned the inside of the notecard into a dinner invitation.  The
three guys had given it to Susan and Troy the week between Christmas
and New Year's.  I had observed Kenny's and Jeremy's pleasure over
the event as they described Susan's and Troy's reactions.  Susan had
been touched, kissing each of them (how did I miss out on that?).
Troy, for once, had been speechless.  Both had hugged Kenny,
praising his sketch of them.  Jeremy's and Kenny's reactions had
demonstrated what a payoff it was that Troy and Susan had been
touched by the gift.  As a generous couple, Troy and Susan were
always on the giving end.  It was nice to switch that about for
them.  Maybe Susan would share with me how the evening went.

			*     *     *

After classes, I scooted over to Dr. Sorenson's office for the long-
awaited check- up.  When he walked into the examining room, I was
standing up, not using the crutches.  I handed them to him,
accompanied by a casual statement that I wouldn't be using them any
longer.  He grinned, replying, "Yes, Doctor."

He asked a few questions, accepted my heartfelt thanks for his
excellent care, and pronounced me released.  I told him I'd already
released myself.  I showed up out of courtesy and respect for him.
He laughed, shaking his head at my brash manner.

As I left, he expressed regret that he wouldn't be seeing those
"great kids" again. "How are they?"

"Developing too fast.  I have to watch it all the time just to stay
two hops ahead of them.  They try end-around runs whenever possible.
I guess I should tell you that I'm adopting one of them.  I don't
think you met him when I was in the hospital." I launched into an
abbreviated account of Jeremy's history with his parents.  Dr.
Sorenson was clearly pleased with the news, expressing the hope that
he'd have to opportunity to meet Jeremy sometime.

Upon his return home that evening, Jeremy immediately exclaimed his
approval of my walking under my own power.  I got a big hug with
only a few tears in his eyes.  "Wait until the guys hear about
this," he exclaimed.  He looked up and yelled, "LaRonda, wait until
you hear this."  The next day at school brought surprised but
pleased expressions from my students and colleagues.

			*     *     *

The next day seemed just as long as its predecessors.  I was
impatient for Friday's dinner with Ron to arrive.  I was going to
have to watch that.  I could see my exuberance carrying me face
first into a wall, so to speak.

As I was restoring my desk to order and preparing to go home, I
glanced up to see Jim Belton leaning on the frame of the door to my
classroom.  Odd.  Jim always stood straight and tall, looking rigid
and uptight.  I'd never seen him assume so casual a pose.

"Hey, Jim, good to see you."

With no preamble, Jim launched into the purpose that brought him to
my room. "Had an appointment with your lawyer.  I like Miles."

"I'm glad.  Sounds to me as though he's your lawyer now too."

"Yeah, I'm feeling better about the farm.  I think we must have
talked just about farming for 25 minutes.  Didn't know a lawyer
would know so much about it. Must be his background in the South.
What do you know about him?"

I was surprised.  This had to be the first time Jim Belton ever
wanted to know anything from me.  "Miles comes from Louisiana.  I
met him here when I was going through a divorce.  We became friends
almost immediately, and we've remained such to this day.  He likes
to keep fit.  He's a jogger.  As you saw, it contributes favorably
to his striking appearance.  I don't think the man has an enemy
anywhere, which is a surprise considering his profession.  He's
respected among his peers."  Jim was listening intently.  Hm-m-m-m-
m-m - I wondered . . . "He's never been married," I added.  "Rarely
has a date."  The pupils in Jim's eyes narrowed a little.

"You think he'd be interested in seeing my farm?"

"I expect he would.  I'm surprised you didn't ask him out so that he
could see what he was protecting."

Jim shrugged his shoulders.  Another first.  Maybe Jim was relaxing
with me. That would be new, too.  "I thought he might consider it a
step down to mix with a farmer."

"Miles doesn't judge men by what they do to make a living, assuming
that it's legitimate.  But he'll do a pretty good read of a person's
character.  I think you should ask him.  At least give him a chance
to choose.  You'll never know otherwise."

Jim realized that my comment was communicating on two levels, not
only in regard to the invitation to visit the farm but also to
establishing a friendship, maybe more, with Miles.  I just smiled.
If I didn't know better, I'd wonder if Jim were close to being
smitten.  Wouldn't that beat all if Jim and Miles became a couple!

"Evan!" that inner voice remonstrated.  "You're matchmaking!"

'So what? Jim's going to be alone soon.  I don't want his world to
reduce to so much that there won't be anything to sustain him - even
his beloved farm can do only so much.  He needs a person if not
people in his life too.  And I don't want him to lose his farm.  I'm
not doing anything wrong because I'm not imposing my decisions on
Jim or Miles.  Whatever happens between them is their choice.' I
responded, a little smugly.

"You know," I suggested, "the more Miles knows about your farm, the
better he can help you keep it.  He'll see aspects of your setup to
which you and I are blind because we haven't been trained to think
the way an attorney does. . . . The same applies to you and me.  For
instance, you can look at another farm and tell how well it's
maintained and what it's worth an acre and then what it'll bring if
it's sold.  You can walk into a field, scoop up soil, study it, and
tell whether it's ready for planting, probably even how good it is
for raising a particular crop.  I'm certain you can shred a head of
growing wheat and tell how many more weeks until  harvest and how
good the crop will be.  I can't do that, and I doubt Miles can do
much of it.  I can pick up a piece of writing and see things in it
others can't - patterns in the prose others don't detect.  I can see
through it into a person's mind, the part that is used in composing
and thinking, that is.  I can even read in the subtext features to
which the writer is not alive.  I doubt you and Miles can do it as
well as I.  In short, you'd be helping both Miles and yourself out
if you invited him to see your farm."

Unsmiling, Jim studied me.  "I may give him a call.  See what he
thinks."  He turned and walked down the hall without any farewell.
He must have already been thinking about calling Miles.  I hoped he
built some fantasies involving Miles - with no grey misgivings to
tinge the edges, I thought ruefully, reflecting on my recent
fantasies.

			*     *     *

That afternoon, Jeremy and I met at home and drove to Miles
Forbisher's office in my car.  Jeremy was his usual charming self
when I introduced him to Rosamund, Miles's secretary.  He immediately
won her approval.  When Jeremy told her proudly that he was going to
be my son, she was clearly surprised.  I doubted that happened often,
given that she was usually on top of any situation and ahead of people
in anticipating what was going to occur.

"How delightful!  What a blessing for both of you," Rosamund
exclaimed.

We were still in the "introductions' stage when Miles stepped out of
his office, gesturing for us to enter.  Jeremy insisted that I
precede him.  Once inside, I quickly moved to the introductions.
Miles and Jeremy were understandably eying each other beyond the
ordinary.  After we seated ourselves, Miles began, "Oh, by the way,
Evan, thanks for the referral."  I just looked at him blankly.  "Jim
Belton."

"Oh!" I exclaimed.  "Surely."  Jeremy looked at me, curious about
Jim's needing an attorney.

"He's a really nice guy," Miles added.  "Kind of innocent-like.  He
told me all about his farm.  Invited me out to his farm this
Saturday.  I'm going," he stated, his eagerness unmistakable.

My eyebrows must have risen a little for I noticed a faint blush in
his upper cheeks.  Jim must have called as soon as he left my
classroom.  Hm-m-m-m.  I wonder if this means what I hope.  "I think
that's great.  You must have made a hit with Jim.  That farm is the
center of his existence.  He's never invited me out there," I
commented, arching my eyebrows.  Jeremy was listening with interest.

"You just made my day.  I've made Evan Halsey jealous," Miles
grinned.

"Bull!  Let me tell you the kind of guy Jim is.  My first day back
at school after the accident -

"What accident?"

"I fell down the steps at school, broke my leg, banged up some
stuff, was in the hospital.  I just got off crutches," I answered
quickly.  "Jim, a man of few words, showed up at my classroom door
after classes my first day back at school.  He knew going down those
stairs would be difficult for me.  He also knew that my students,
out of kindness, would keep me from experiencing any difficulty at
the stairs.  A couple of male students in particular would probably
have picked me up and carried me down the stairs.  Jim walked me to
the stairs, explaining that I needed to go down them myself but that
he'd be there with me should I falter.  He walked me down those
stairs, encouraging me in his taciturn way.  Watched while I went
across the parking lot to my car and didn't turn back until I was
headed out of the parking lot.  He didn't show up at my door the
next day after classes, but I'll bet he was out of sight monitoring
my progress down those stairs solo."

"What Dad's not telling you, Mr. Forbisher -

"Please, Jeremy, call me Miles."

Jeremy smiled.  " - Miles, is that I pushed him down the stairs.  I
wasn't really intending to do that."  Then Jeremy launched into the
tale, including its resolution. Miles alternately studied one of us
and then the other during the recitation.

"Well, you're a strong and honest man, Jeremy, to admit that to
someone you've just met.  But I wouldn't expect anything less of a
man who won Evan's approval. It's certainly turned out well for both
of you.  Evan's been a solitary buffalo too long."

"Hey!" I protested.  "Watch what metaphors you fling at me."

Miles laughed gleefully because he'd gotten a rise out of me.

"You should hear the long list of metaphors his students use to
refer to him," Jeremy snickered.  "It gets longer every month and is
heavy in use after Dad returns a test or set of essays."

I frowned.  "So what do we have to do here, Miles?"  We launched
into a discussion of the adoption process with information flowing
back and forth. Miles said he'd have me come in next week to read
over the codicil to my will and sign it.

"Jeremy, how do you want to be named the petition?" he asked.

"Jeremy Wilder Halsey," he answered, smiling.

"It suits you," Miles replied.

"Do we go to court with you?" Jeremy asked him.

"It isn't necessary."

"Please," Jeremy requested, looking at Miles and then at me.  "Would
you mind, Dad?  It's important to me for us to be there together."

I looked at Miles and then back at Jeremy.  "Yes, we can do that," I
answered, quickly understanding that our presence represented both
closure on an unhappy period in his life and the opening of a new
door in our life together.  "How about it Miles?  Is there a session
that ends later in the afternoon so that Jeremy and I wouldn't miss
too much of the school day?"

It was Miles's turn to snicker.  "You know, Evan, some people might
just take the entire day off for such a momentous event."

My eyes widened.  "And miss classes?" I questioned in disbelief.  "I
don't think so."

"Oh, Dad," Jeremy moaned.

I looked at him mischievously.  "I'm now responsible for your
character, Jeremy. I take that role seriously, and much work remains
to be accomplished."  He punched me playfully in the shoulder .

Miles was grinning.  "You never change, do you, Evan?"

I smiled slightly.  "So will you let us know about the day of that
afternoon time slot so that we can arrange to attend?"

Our business obviously finished, we arose with Miles's assurances
that we would hear from him soon.

			*     *     *

The next day at the beginning of the lunch period, I was making my
way back to my classroom after having left a memo at the central
office for the head of the Commencement Committee.  As I crossed the
foyer, Kate Williams spied me, excused herself from a group of
students with whom she'd been chatting, and walked up to me, beaming.
"I think we have some things to talk about, Evan, beginning with
Jeremy."

"Yes, I'm adopting Jeremy," I answered like a smart ass, "and don't
tell me that you saw that coming," I warned her.

She couldn't stifle her know-it-all smile, asking archly, "Who do
you think assigned Jeremy to your English class and why?"

I turned my head aside, narrowing my eyes in doubt.  "Balderdash!"

Just then Jeremy, Kenny, Susan and Troy came up behind us.   "Evan,
I'm going to strangle you!" Jeremy exclaimed as though wounded.

I looked at him in surprise.  "Now what?"

"Everyone is calling me 'Buckaroo this' and 'Buckaroo that.'  It's
all you fault."

My grin of delight was endless.  "Gotcha!"

"Oh, I've got to hear this," Kate exclaimed.  "How did you get to be
a buckaroo?" Kenny jumped in and related the incident when I'd
almost referred to Jeremy as a cheeky bastard in front of the class,
catching myself just in time by substituting "buckaroo."  I noticed
the pride with which Kenny related the tale from glances of that
nature he frequently cast in Jeremy's direction.

"So Jeremy's a buckaroo now.  Well that certainly leads into my next
question," Kate commented, eyebrows arched.  "Why is it that parties
always break out around you, Evan?"

"What parties?"

"I'm hearing all kinds of stories about applause from your end of
the hall and peals of laughter."

"You should have been there, Mrs. Williams," Susan began, relating
the events that had transpired in my classroom the first day back
from New Year's, when LeKeisha and Angela had pushed me to announce
my intention to adopt Jeremy to my class.  Susan's rendering was
punctuated by additions from Kenny and Troy.

While Susan was recounting the event, I noticed Byron Okata and
Melanie Simpson walking by hand-in-hand.  'When she visited me in my
classroom about dating, she said she wanted a jock,' I remembered.
She waved at me.  Byron smiled shyly at me then ducked his head as
they walked slowly through the foyer. Catching the direction of my
glance, Susan winked.  Yeah, I knew she had put the two together.
She probably dissuaded Melanie from her goal of hooking up with a
jock.  I wondered if Troy had gotten Byron in with the guys yet.
I'd have to check.

			*     *     *

Not long after I returned to my room, Susan showed up at my door
with a brown bag lunch.  "Mind if I join you?" she asked.

"Not in the least.  I'd welcome it.  Maybe I'll get to hear about
your dinner at The Shadows.  As we unpacked and ate our lunches, she
began relating details of the candlelight dinner.

"Evan, Troy and I needed that time alone.  And what ambience The
Shadows has! I don't think we've had such a magical evening in a
long time."

My eyebrows expressed skepticism.  "Knowing you two as I do, I
thought most of your evenings together were magical - you know, the
All-American Jock and America's Sweetheart."

"Cut it out, Evan.  You know what holidays can be like for kids from
big families. It's hard to find anytime to be alone."  Her eyebrows
rose.

"Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h.  I get it.  Well, I'd be missing a little 'quiet
time' with a stud like Troy, too, as I'm certain he was missing such
with a princess like you."

She chuckled.  "Yes, he had some catching up to do."

I cocked my head to one side, puzzled.  Then Susan's admission in an
earlier conversation that Troy made love to her twice for every romp
he had with Cody or me floated into my mind.

"Oh, Troy and Cody," I shook my head, indicating that I understood
the import of her comment.

"And Jeremy and Kenny!" she added.  My jaw dropped.

"Separately?"

"No, the foursome."

"Oh," I said softly, looking away.  Now why was I feeling strange
about what Susan had just told me?

A glut of students popped into the room chattering loudly.  Susan
arose, frowning at my reaction to her disclosure about the guys.
"Thank you again, Evan, for the wonderful gift.  We loved it."  She
leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. Before she walked through
the door, she turned again to look at me.

			*     *     *

Once class was over on Friday, I sped home, warning myself not to
count on too much happening.  If I did, I'd probably ruin it.  I
showered and donned casual dress for dinner.  Right on time, Ron
drove in the driveway.  I locked the door and walked to the car.
Ron hustled out and opened the passenger door for me.  If Jeremy
had seen it, he'd have ragged me about my denial that Ron and I
were on a date.  "Lost the crutches, huh?" he inquired.

"It was past time," I replied.

"Where's that Italian restaurant Tim liked so much?" Ron asked me.

"I think you mean Francini's.  I'll give you directions," I said as
he shut my door. Once he was in the car, I verbally sketched out our
route to the restaurant so that I wouldn't have to interrupt
conversation at every turn.  "Francini's is owned by Tony Francini's
parents," I explained.  I don't know if you have Tony in class or
not."

He thought a couple of moments.  "Good-looking, kinda cocky Italian
dude. Doesn't back down.  Looks you right in the eye.  Has a girl
friend.  Shy girl. Angel?  Angela?"

"Yes, that's he.  She's Angela Walker.  Really nice young woman.  I
have them both in my first-hour Junior English.  They make a great
couple.  In fact, their finding each other has made them more
studious and a delight to teach.  Tony's a really nice guy.
Stronger than he knows yet.  And Angela's developing so rapidly that
she's surprising even herself," I reported, ruminating on her
uncharacteristically bold challenge to me in class to share the news
of his adoption with Jeremy's classmates.

He opened a new line of conversation:  "I hear you are adopting a
student.  That's remarkable.  The scuttlebutt tells me everyone is
behind you and Jeremy."

"Yes.  Jeremy's special.  I hope you get to know him."

"Oh, I'll get to know him.  We're all going to be close."  I looked
at him with my head tipped to the side, wondering what his remark
portended.  "So tell me about Jeremy."

I gave Ron the quick version of Jeremy's family history.  "When we
started this academic year, he was a brash, disenfranchised kid with
a bit of a chip on his shoulder.  None of us came close to guessing
what a rough time he was experiencing, which says much about how
well he handles himself when life gets down and dirty.  Now he's
this caring leader whom others are happy to follow.  One of his good
friends is Troy Morgan.  Troy really likes chemistry, by the way, so
I guess you've met him?" I asked.

"The star basketball player?  Yeah.  I want to go to a game to see
him play. You'll go with me," he stated.

My eyebrows rose at his presumption.  He noted it, with a charming
smile.  Ever since I met him, I had the inescapable feeling that he
was toying with me, enjoying himself because he knew something I
didn't.

I looked at that magnificent visage, those blue eyes.  "Okay, I'd
like to see Troy play too - and Cody."

"Cody Saxon?"

"Yes."

"I always see Troy, his girlfriend, and Cody together.  They're like
triplets."

"Yes, they're close friends.  With Kenny and Jeremy too."

"Kenny's Jeremy's boyfriend?" he asked.

'Ah-oh,' I thought, hesitant to answer.

"It's okay.  In only three days in our school a newcomer is filled
in quickly, particularly about the popular students."

I just shook my head in understanding.  "Cody's a basketball star
too.  Troy's girl friend is Susan Connolly.  An excellent student, a
fascinating woman, and a good friend."

"Cody and Troy are friends too?" Ron asked.

"Yes."

"I feel jealous."

"Oh, yeah, right!  The hunk's jealous," I blurted out
uncharacteristically. Surprised by my own outburst, I blushed
furiously.  "There's no reason to be jealous.  You hardly know any
of us, so how could you be jealous?"

He ignored my question.  "You've never gone to a game then?  I've
heard about how reclusive you are."

I frowned.  "Heard about from whom?"

He grinned.  "You know."  My frown deepened.  I looked out my window
at the passing businesses lining Walden Road.  We weren't far from
Francini's.  I remembered Ron's face turning into Tim's in the past
week's fantasies.  Now I was physically with Ron, and Tim was moving
into our presence.  I wondered where it would take the evening.  I
couldn't help wanting to withdraw.  It had started with Susan's
disclosure about Jeremy, Kenny, Troy, and Cody getting it on.
Matters weren't helped any when deep within I heard this dissonant
chorus of whispers reminding me of my past history, particularly
with Tim Minor, and telling me I was going to fail.

"Come on, Evan," that interior voice said.  "Ron's new.  Give him a
chance. While you're at it, give yourself a chance too.  The guy
seems interested in you. Tim's why you two are together, so he's
going to come up in conversation for a while.  You can live with
that.  Don't beat Ron up because of you're history with Tim."

'Oh!  The voice!  So where were those whispers coming from?'  My
brow wrinkled.  'Memories.  Surely would be nice to have a delete
key for memories.' I mused over the possibility for a moment.  'Not
really.  Those memories, even though they are negative, serve a
purpose if you know how to use them positively,' I counseled myself.

I expressed the need for a turn at the next stoplight.  Otherwise, I
remained silent. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what.
It certainly was not going to be about Tim.  I wasn't going to spend
the evening discussing him.

"Let me clear the air," Ron broke the silence.  "I'm not involved in
any collusion with Tim and Alan to pull a dirty trick on you for the
sake of a laugh.  You know Alan's not that kind of guy.  And I
hadn't seen or talked to Tim for a couple of years before he called
to tell me he was moving to my city.  When Tim drops someone, it's
over - probably because he doesn't leave that person well.  He tends
to just disappear without a word.  If he hadn't needed help fast
since he was moving at the end of the first semester, I wouldn't
have heard from him at all. That ended a long time ago - when we
left college."

I stole glimpses of Ron and his wonderful anatomy throughout his
explanation. He caught me a time or two, but he didn't react.

"The reason I bring this up is that it's understandable for you to
think something like that might happen.  Were I in your place, I
know the same thoughts would have crossed my mind."  I just shook my
head affirmatively, relieved that I could put those worries behind
me.

We pulled into a parking space at Francini's.  I started to open my
door.  "NO!" he blared.  I jumped because he was so loud.  "Please,
Evan, let me," he said in a moderate tone.

He hopped out of the car, came around to my door, opening it just as
though we were on a date.  When I swung my feet out and stood up, he
took a step forward so that I arose right up against his body with
him looking right down into my eyes and me looking straight up into
his.  The dawg!  He smelled good - a combination of something woodsy
and male.  I cast my glance to the side.  If he continued this, I
was going to turn to jelly.  When I looked up at him, indicating my
intention to move ahead, he held to his place, a sexy grin spreading
across that handsome mug.  Only after establishing that he
controlled matters at this particular moment did he move back,
gesturing with his hand that I was to precede him.  The old Evan
would have been peeved at such behavior; the new Evan was thrown off
balance - yet charmed too.  We moved to the front door, with Ron
opening it for me.

Once inside, Tony spotted us immediately, hustling over, telling the
hostess that we were his teachers, so he'd seat and wait on us.  He
greeted us, beaming at me. He led us to the secluded alcove where
he'd placed Tim and me on an earlier occasion.  Why did he do that?
I usually was stuck in a dining room.  He and Ron struck up a
conversation, allowing me to study Ron closely.  After our "body
brush-up" outside in the parking lot, I was fantasizing about what
it would be like if he made love to me.  In the midst of the
conversation, Ron looked at me, bursting into a grin, for he somehow
realized the nature of my mental exercises. Tony looked at me and
then Ron and back at me.  He tipped to what I'd likely been doing.
He winked at me, chuckling - with Ron joining in.   He took our
drink orders - a scotch on the rocks for Ron and a gin and tonic for
me.  An older waiter brought our drinks.  After about five minutes,
Tony returned to take our orders.

I took a couple of sips of my drink, looking at Ron.  He smiled.
"You were going to explain the job switch that brought you here," I
reminded him.

"Okay.  Tim had called me before he came for his job interview to
arrange to have dinner together.  Later, when Tim came to the
capital to find an apartment and finalize the contract and papers on
his new job, he stayed with me.  We used to be close," he said,
staring into my eyes, pausing.  "Really close.  Started when we
played pick-up basketball on dormitory courts when we were in
college."

"Oh," I said, actually at a loss for words.  He took a sip from his
drink.

"I guess he planned from the beginning of that visit to start
interesting me in coming here.  He started talking about you.
Telling me about you and about him - ALL about you and him," Ron
said, fixing his eyes on me, humor dancing in his eyes.

I blushed.  "If he told you why he dumped me, I'd be interested in
knowing."

"Not dumping - fleeing."

My brows beetled.  "Fleeing what?"

"You, falling deeply in love with you, being trapped by you."

"Makes me sound like a black widow spider!  I don't trap people," I
said with a slight degree of attitude.

He smiled.  "You do if they find themselves caring more for you than
they intended or wanted."

I snorted in impatience.  "When did we stop discussing Tim Minor?"

"I never did."

Tony arrived with our salads and bread sticks.  I noticed that he
asked Ron, not me, if everything was okay as he would with the man
of a dating couple.  'So what has Tony figured out - who the head
male is?' I wondered.  He'd probably figured everything out.  Could
he read me now and tell me what I was feeling?  I could use the
help.

I looked down at my gin and tonic, frowning.  After Tony left, I
asked, "Is there some reason Tim couldn't have told me any of this?"

"Fear.  Tim's never confessed anything like this to any of his
former lovers - or anyone else, for that matter.  Nor will he ever.
You may have noticed that he's a competitive guy, likes to be in
control, but he felt that he would never have the control with you
that he liked.  That he needed.  You are too strong, independent,
too much your own man.  He also thought you wouldn't leave your job
and go to the capital with him.  Besides, you know that Tim has a
thing for young guys."

"I didn't then but do now.  Did Alan go to the city with Tim?"

"Yeah, they're rooming together.  Alan transferred to the university
there."

"Oh, of course!" I exclaimed as I pitched attitude, then felt guilty
because it seemed to depreciate Alan.  I realized I couldn't do
that.  'What's up with that?' I wondered.

"Alan's a nice guy," I mentioned contritely.  "Of course, a nice guy
can be the most destructive," I murmured, lapsing into memories.

"You're not talking about Tim now, are you?" Ron asked.  I shook my
head in the negative.  "Sounds like there's a story there," he
observed. There was, but I remained silent.

Ron continued his account of Tim's visit to him in the state
capital.  "When Tim suggested that I take his job, I told him I
wasn't interested in pulling up roots and moving somewhere else.
Then he told me about you.  I got really interested then."

"Oh come on!" I broke in.  "You aren't going to tell me that you
uprooted yourself, gave up your seniority and favorite haunts,
because of me.  You hadn't even seen me."

"I did shortly after that - out in the north parking lot of the
school.  In fact, I can take you right now to the very spot where
you were standing.  You were out there on your crutches.  You
stopped to let Tim drive past - in my car.  Tim pointed you out that
day to both Alan and me."  My face communicated considerable doubt
about his claim.  Yet I could feel myself blushing, remembering the
big shadow on the passenger side of the car, recalling how
ridiculous I must have seemed, given what was being said inside that
car.  "Tim had already told me about you, described you - with and
without clothes.  However, I'm verifying all that after dinner."

My eyebrows shot up.

"You want a protector," he added, "someone to love deeply.  Someone
to shelter in.  Even someone to submit to who won't expect you to
give up your strength for him permanently."

"Maybe I'd want to give up some of my strength as a love offering."

"No, Evan.  Wouldn't work.  Your strength is who you are.  A man who
really loved you and understood you would neither ask nor allow you
to give it up completely.  It would be one of your many attractive
features to the right man who was falling in love with you."

I glanced up at him briefly.  I wanted to check him out to see if
the was sincere or was pulling a fast one.  He was sincere.
Lowering my eyes immediately, I blushed.

"I'm not Tim, Evan.  I won't hurt you," he said softly.

Tony arrived with our entrees.  Again he and Ron chatted each other
up a little. Tony kept looking my way, wondering how it was going, I
suspected.  I smiled at him to reassure him.

After Tony left, Ron continued.  "You want a husband."  I looked
startled.  "I want someone like you who will allow me to do all
that, be that husband.  I told you that Tim and I were close.  I
wanted him.  But he shied away just as he did with you.  I figure
any guy who can shake ole Tim, make him consider settling down, is a
guy worth knowing, a guy who can give me what I'm looking for."

I looked up into those blue eyes.  "What are you looking for?"

"Since I've seen you?  A small guy I can dwarf, who can make me feel
my power because he has power, who can challenge me now and again.
A guy I can cuddle, hold and protect.  A guy who'll let me make love
to him any time I want and who'll fuck me when I want.  A guy I want
to spend MY time with, do all kinds of things with, grow with.  A
guy who'll love and cherish me so that I can do the same for him.
Who'll look at me with his eyes full of love for me - just the way
you are beginning to do now."  I blinked and then glanced down at my
drink quickly, taking a sip.  "Who'll want to spend some of our time
on activities I like."

We hadn't any more than finished our meal when Tony appeared to
clear the table and offer dessert.  We both declined politely.  In
no time at all, Tony was back with the bill.  As he started to
leave, Ron said, "Hold it Tony.  You can take this right back with
you," as he dropped a credit card on the tray.  Tony shot away.

"Want me out of your life?" Ron asked.

"No, you're a keeper," I grinned back, ducking my head shyly, not
wanting to behave in any way that marred the moment.  Under the
table, he used the front half of his shoe to push down lightly on my
foot.  Tony returned, grinning broadly.  "Don't want to hold you
gents up.  You look like you might be in a hurry."

Ron winked at him.  "I appreciate a guy who's been there and
understands," Ron replied.  Tony barely stifled a laugh, but his
smile was monstrous.

We took our leave of Tony with thanks offered all around.  Ron
insisted on following me to my side of the car, unlocking the door,
and waiting for me to take my seat.  I leaned over and unlocked the
door for him.  When he had slid behind the wheel, I thanked him for
dinner.  The ride back to my home was quiet, with the two of us
looking over to check the other out from time to time.  My mind was
ablaze with images of our embracing, his removing my clothes, my
undressing him, discovering all the delights those clothes hid.

Ron's car slid soundlessly into the drive.  This time I waited for
him to come to my door.  When we were walking to the front door, he
put his arm around my waist, gently nudging my body into his.  I
liked the substance, the solidity of it.  I put my arm around his
waist.  When I unlocked the front door, he held me back, scooped me
up in his arms, carried me through the door.  "It starts here,
Evan."  I shut the door behind us.  "Lock it," he ordered gently.

He looked around, spying the sunroom.  He walked over to it and
stepped down into it, allowing my feet to drop smoothly to the
carpet.  Then he pulled me into an embrace and a passionate kiss.  I
couldn't help it.  I started running my hands up those big arms,
over the balled caps of his broad shoulders, down his back to his
hips.  I loved the feel of that ass.  Regardless of my hands' moving
to back or butt, any muscle bundle they touched flexed and
tightened, whether by his command or involuntarily due to my touch,
I didn't know.  He was pushing the hard knot of his cock into my
stomach.

We no more than broke a kiss before he started another.  He was
clearly in command.  That was fine with me.  His big paws moved over
my body, taking its measure.  Whereas I was reacting to his huge
frame, he was reacting to my small dimensions.  I unbuckled his
belt, but he took my hands away.  "Strip," he ordered.

"My bedroom's down the hall," I explained, nodding in that direction
with my head.

"No.  Here.  I like this room.  It's like a forest or jungle.  I
feel the beast in me awakening," he said seductively.

Man!  Was he ever turning me on as we pulled our clothes off.  I
could feel myself start tremble, but I didn't know why.  Certainly
not fear.  Excitement!

He stood there, allowing he to take him in as he was me.  His body
reminded me of a monument to masculine beauty and power adorning
some ancient building in the Roman Forum.  The muscles in his arms
were so wide that I couldn't see a fringe of hair that I knew filled
his armpits.  I knew my hand couldn't do much more than clasp either
the front or the back of his "ceps."  The muscles in his forearms
made my "ceps" look puny and my forearms thin despite the muscle
definition there.  His hands were huge, hanging now at his sides,
the big fingers curled.  His pecs were matted with black hair and
accented with dark nipples.  I had marked when I first saw him in my
classroom his wing-like lats.  A notable trail of black hair moved
down his stomach to his pubic forest.  His thighs were thick,
defined and beautifully haired, as were his calves.  His feet had to
be big to hold up that frame.

As the muscles in his square jaw flexed, shadowed with his heavy
whiskers, he walked toward me, grabbing me and pulling me into him,
wrapping his arms about me.  There was so much of Ron, and every bit
of it warm.  I put my hands on his chest, running them through the
hair there.  His hand ran roughly over my ass, his fingers moving
aggressively into the crack, teasing the center of me he found
there.  I raised off my heels a bit to tongue his big nipples, which
immediately hardened.  I turned to sucking and nibbling on them,
which made his cock push harder into me.  Though he didn't want me
to, I pulled down so that I was kneeling in front of him.

I was proud that his cock was no longer than mine, but it was
thicker, topped by a beautiful cap, which flared out, leaving quite
a flange.  Instead of being flat at his frenum, the flare continued
on the underside of the head, with both sides nearly joining before
running up to the long slit in the head.  I took his thick, seven-
inch shaft in my hand, feeling its heat and heft.  I nosed into the
pubic forest.  His musk was strong but not overpowering.  While I
licked around his cock, I caressed his big balls hanging down in a
silky, hairy sack.  He was turned on - I could tell by his tensed
muscles.

As I licked the big cap, I ran my hands back on his ass.  The lobes
were hard.  I could barely depress them.  I had to pull him closer
to me to place my fingers in his moist crack, feeling more hair
there, and then brushing my fingertips over his hole.  It jumped.  I
heard a noise issue from him, soft but expressive.  I figured he
didn't want to betray any kind of reaction, so I was pleased to have
caused this much.  He reached around for one of my hands, gently
guiding it under my nose, rubbing my fingertips under my nostrils to
leave his scent there, then pulling my hand up and leaning down to
do the same under his nose.

He reached under my arms and gently slung me around on my back in
the center of the open space in front of the sunroom door, rolling
on top of me.  He had his muscular arms and legs clasped tightly
about me.  He started kissing me again. After breaking it off, he
slid to his knees and pushed my legs back, rolling me onto my
shoulders so that he could attack my ass.  He nibbled, licked,
nuzzled his nose into my ass, magnifying my pleasure and trembling,
making me moan.

Soon his tongue was entering me, his moans joining mine in a chorus
of sexual pleasure.  I had to do something, so I ran my hands
through the black hair on his head, tracing the contours of his
ears, massaging their lobes.

He arose with a simple command:  "Get your lube."  I scooted back,
rolling to the side and onto my feet, hustling into my bedroom to
the nightstand.  I returned with a couple of towels and the lube,
which I handed to him.  "I like watching your little ass," he said.
He spread some lube over the three middle fingers on his right hand
while I returned to my back and pulled my legs back.  He gently
massaged some lube around my hole, slipping one finger inside me.
Out it came while another entered in its place, then the other.
Quickly the one finger became two, then three.  I was puffing and
losing control.  He smoothed more lube on his big cock.

He knee-walked up so that his legs were on either side of me.  He
placed the round, flared head of his dick against my hole and
unceremoniously began to ease himself inside, his hands grasping the
sides of my hips tightly, moving my ass to adjust his entry, moving
it now forward, now back off his cock.  I felt only twinges of pain,
so gentle was he, but he was watching me closely.  Eventually, he
was deep in me - all the way.  I felt so full.  He pulled all the
way back and then moved his whole cock swiftly inside me.  Somehow
the breadth of his body joined in my mind with the breadth of his
dick in me, making my back arch and a stream of cum shoot out of me.
I was so unprepared for it that I shouted his name. Because my ass
muscles clamped so hard down on him, he suddenly jammed his cock in
me, climaxing too.  We quivered, shook, moaned, and kissed.  Then
lay panting.

"Good," he commented.  "Now we can take our time and really enjoy
ourselves," he observed as he rose on his knees, pulling out of me.
He moved back a bit and fell on all fours, walking forward over me.
He stared at me, then leaned down and started taking long swipes
with his tongue up my pecs, up my throat, up my face to my lips,
leading to a passionate kiss.

A friend some years ago was excitedly describing to me a picture
he'd seen of a lion crouched over a man, fucking him.  The man lay
face down, his arms a bit to his sides.  The lion's back legs were
outside the man's legs, with the lion's penis obviously inserted
into the man.  The lion's front paws were under the man's arms,
while the lion licked the nape of the man's neck.  Pondering the
image later, I imagined that lion would lick the man in Ron's
fashion - long, wet, merciless swipes with that big, raspy tongue.
That's what Ron was doing with his tongue. Words can never do
justice to the feelings he was creating in me.  Trembling seized my
limbs and was constant.

Ron reared back, again placing his cock, which had not softened, at
my entrance, piercing me smoothly.  He alternated long dick slides
with short pumps, running his big paws all over me, stroking and
squeezing muscle bundles.  He'd already located my prostate, which
was his target every now and again.

Not to be outdone, I clamped my ass muscles down on his cock, moving
my ass around in counterpoint to his plunges.  He had grabbed my
cock and was half stroking, half squeezing it.  I knew he was losing
the battle too, for he was pumping harder and faster, sweat stood
out on his brow, and his breath was coming hard.  The same was
happening to me.  We started kissing hotly, nibbling every chance we
got.  I was whimpering.  Our sweaty bodies testified to the heat we
were generating.  He was trembling now too.

"Now, Evan," he gasped.  "Join me, my love."  I didn't know whether
my orgasm was moving up from my ass or something else was happening,
for my ass muscles suddenly clamped down on him, making him wince,
but not in pain, I knew.  My prostate spasmed, flinging cum out of me.
He suddenly jammed himself deep in me with a shout of my name, and I
again felt warmth growing at my center.  He leaned down and we
started another hot kiss while he slowly lowered himself down onto
me.  I was gloriously mashed; I loved it.  After a long while, his
cock slid out of my ass, and he rolled off me onto his back beside
me.  We lay there catching our breath, occasionally kissing,
caressing each other.

As he nuzzled me, he spoke softly:  "You're mine now.  I've claimed
you."

"Thoroughly," I replied.  I placed my hands on either side of the
big handsome head, making him look in my eyes.  "And I claimed you.
You're mine now too." He smiled in agreement.  "It was worth the
wait."

Our afterglow was disturbed by the sound of a key in the lock on the
front door.  I began to bolt, at the same time reaching for my
clothes.  "No," he said authoritatively, pulling me back against
him.  As the front door started to swing open, he spooned me with
the two of us facing the front door where we would be the first
sight upon which curious eyes would alight.

(To be continued.)