Date: Thu, 15 Apr 1999 10:03:50 EDT
From: Ivrys88@aol.com
Subject: "Blue collar, white collar"

BLUE COLLAR, WHITE COLLAR (Working Man Series 2) by K. Nitsua.
Copyright 1999 by the author.

He was angry when I called him, as I knew he would be. "Where the FUCK have
you been?" his voice demanded.

"Busy," I replied, knowing how lame it sounded.

"You've been busy for six months? I haven't heard from you since last
spring. Jesus, I ought to just fucking hang up on you."

"I know, Gary, and I'm sorry. I've been a jerk not to call you all this
time."

"You're always sorry, as if that makes any difference." His voice was still
truculent, but the fact that he was still on the line meant I was making
inroads.

"So, how have you been?" For an English professor, I was sounding trite
today.

"What do you think? Out all day, five days a week, hammering and
sweating. Real work, unlike some people." Gary had a perverse pride about
his lack of formal education. He was smart, though. Smart enough to know
how to make me laugh, smart enough to sting with his words.

He had done both after our first encounter several years ago, out in the
brushy woods beyond the creek in the north city park. "For a desk jockey,
you sure give good head, man." He had said this just after he had emptied
his load down my throat. I had been passionate, turned on more than I had
been in a long time by his icy blue eyes in a sunburned, craggy face, his
half-open work shirt, and his tight jeans that fit his long legs and narrow
hips perfectly. I had just come to the park from my last class of the day,
still in my tie and dress slacks, and had gladly knelt before him, heedless
of my clothes.

I looked up, half-surprised, half-amused. "Thanks, I think."

"Usually don't let guys in ties do me," he said, buttoning his 501s.

I took the bait. "What's wrong with guys in ties?"

"Soft. Scared. Usually married. You're pretty cute for a married guy,
though."

I was starting to get irritated by his assumptions. "I'm not married."

"Not to a woman, maybe." He saw that he had guessed correctly. "Gonna tell
your `other half' about me, bud?"

I tried to parry. "What about yours?"

"Don't have one. Haven't found a rich guy like you to take care of me. Say
hi to your `partner' for me, okay?" He turned and walked away. I rose,
in a turmoil of frustration and desire, wanting to shout to him, ask for
his phone number, fearing that I would never see him again. But I stayed
silent, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. At that moment, he
suddenly turned and said, "The name's Gary, by the way."

"Mine's Tom," I quickly replied. I had to say something. "See you again
sometime."

He paused at that, and an unexpectedly impish grin appeared on his face,
making him handsomer than ever. "You never know." Then he was gone. I had
gotten so worked up by then that I walked back into the woods to a secluded
spot, pulled my cock out and jacked it until I dropped my own load onto the
ground.

I had stopped by the park regularly in the afternoons for weeks after that,
but never saw him. Then things got really busy and I didn't have time to go
cruising for a while. It was probably a year later that I finally saw him
again.

I actually wasn't sex-hunting in the park that day, or so I told him
later. It was a lovely sunny Saturday afternoon and I was strolling along
the creek, watching the sun play on the water, marveling that fish still
lived there despite the fact it ran in the middle of an increasingly large
city. I was standing on the bank and heard footsteps near me. I turned and
there he was. I remember exactly what he was wearing--jeans of course, a
hot pink tank top that exposed his muscular, tanned shoulders and arms,
Nikes, and a somewhat dirty white baseball cap. His thumbs were hooked into
his front pockets--he made this tired pose look enticing.

"Fishing?" he said, grinning.

I was astounded and delighted to see him, but knew better than to let him
know it. "Nope," I answered casually, though my heart was
pounding. "Waiting for you."

"The hell you were," he said. "Walked right by my truck in the parking lot,
didn't even wave or nothing."

"Well, Gary," I pointed out, "I don't know what you drive. You could have
said something."

"Decided to follow you instead. Wanted to see how long it would be before
you noticed."

"Sneaky. So what now?"

"See those flat stones over there?" he said, pointing to a row placed
across the water nearby. "Little trail on the other side, leads up the hill
to a nice shady spot. Come on," he said, starting to cross. He stepped
across gracefully and easily, as I scrambled to keep up. One of my feet
slid into the water and I cursed. Gary looked around and snorted
derisively, but he did slow his pace a bit.

As we climbed up the steep path I was puffing from the exertion, though I
wasn't too winded to notice how good Gary's butt looked in his jeans. At
last we reached the spot he had been talking about, a small clearing quite
a ways up the hill. In the center there was a large tree. When we reached
it, Gary turned and faced me. "The only way up is the way we came. Easy to
tell if someone's coming."

I started to get on my knees before him as I had done the first time, but
he stopped me by putting his hands underneath my arms. "Not so fast, bud,"
he said, and kissed me, hard. His strong arms hugged me as our mouths
ground together. I felt the ropes of muscle in his back and shoulders. We
broke apart, our breathing loud in the still woods. He unzipped my khaki
shorts and put his hand in, rubbing my cock through my briefs, then pulling
down the waistband and taking it out. In a moment he had it in his mouth. I
leaned back against the bark of the tree, closing my eyes as waves of
pleasure pulsed through my body. A moment later I opened them as Gary
paused a moment. He raised his hand, took off his cap and resettled it on
his head with the bill pointing backwards. He looked up at me and
grinned. He then continued his labors, taking me down to the root, quickly
bringing me to the edge of cumming. He sensed this and stopped. "Your
turn," he said, rising to his feet.

I was more than willing to oblige, kneeling down and undoing the buttons on
his jeans. He was wearing no underwear, and the cock I remembered jutted
out. I deliberately teased him and myself by not taking it right away,
licking and washing his balls, inhaling the scent of his pubes, letting the
organ slide against my face, feeling a bit of precum from the dark head
smear my cheek.

"Suck me, man," Gary said urgently, and at last I obeyed, sliding the dick
in and deep-throating him with abandon. His hands caressed my hair, then
moved downward, pulling the T-shirt I was wearing up and baring my
back. They tried to get underneath the waistband of my underwear. Still
keeping his cock in my mouth, I reached down and undid the front button of
my shorts, loosening them. Gary pushed the clothes off my butt and
continued to knead and caress my cheeks, a finger snaking down the crack
toward my hole. He bent over so far I had to let go of his dick. "Up
against the tree, bud," he whispered in my ear.

I knew what he wanted and was ready to give it to him. I turned my back and
braced myself against the tree, my pants and shorts around my ankles,
bending at the waist and arching my back so that he could get at my ass. I
felt his hands part my cheeks and a moment later the soft wetness of his
tongue on them. It roved to the cleft between the cheeks and moved
downward, leaving a wet trail that cooled quickly in the open air and sent
shivers through me. Then he reached my asshole, his tongue and lips
skillfully probing and teasing the flesh, wetting and softening it as I
moaned softly. One of his hands reached around my leg and grasped my cock,
which was still hard.

"Fuck me," I said.

Gary stood, and I turned to watch him peel off his tank top and drop it on
the ground beside him. Staring into my eyes, he pushed his jeans down past
his knees. I took in his hard bare torso, with a fine line of hair running
from his navel down to his dark pubic bush, out of which sprang his hungry
cock. He raised a hand to his mouth and spit into it, then dropped it to
his organ, lubing it with the saliva.

"Take off that T-shirt. I want you naked for this."

I obeyed, aware that my knees were shaking. The knowledge that discovery
would be disaster only added to the thrill. I turned away from him and
wrapped my arms around the tree, and a wet finger was thrust into my
hole. It was withdrawn and I sensed Gary move into position behind me. I
felt something contact my hole again, bigger and blunter this time, and
before I had time to think, it pushed abruptly and broke through the
barrier of flesh. Pain shot through my body. I uttered a short cry and
tried to squirm away, when a strong arm encircled my neck, pressing against
my throat just enough to make breathing difficult. I let out a muffled
protest, and felt his hot breath on my right ear. "No you don't," he said
softly. "You said you wanted it, now take it, you hear?" More gently he
said, "I'm not going to hurt you. Just relax and I'll go slow, OK?" I
nodded rapidly and tried to obey. In a moment, the tension in my asshole,
and with it the pain, lessened. "Good, man," Gary said, relaxing his grip
around my neck. I felt his hardness begin to move slowly further into
me. There was no more hurt, only warm fullness and the indescribable joy of
surrendering to another man's invading strength. He penetrated deeper and
deeper until I was sure he was halfway up my gut. At last I felt his body
press against my butt and back and knew that I had taken all of him into
me. It was Gary's turn to sigh with pleasure. "Man, that's great," he said.

He began to slide his cock in and out. I had to brace myself against the
power of his thrusts to avoid being slammed against the tree trunk. He bent
and wrapped his arms around my chest as he continued to fuck me. I felt his
warm quick breath against my neck, smelled the sweat from his exertions,
felt the burning heat of his driving organ in my ass. I closed my eyes and
gave myself up to his possession. My own cock had softened somewhat but
hardened again as one of his rough hands grasped and began to jack it. In
only a few minutes the combined sensations assaulting me sent me past the
point of no return. "Oh God I'm cumming," I gasped out as my organ began to
throb in his hand. The first spurt splashed onto the tree trunk, the rest
on the ground. Despite the fear of discovery I groaned with pleasure, dimly
aware that Gary's breathing had increased in force until it was a series of
hoarse grunts. His thrusts deepened to the point of pain and I knew he was
emptying his load into my gut. He slammed all the way in and held his cock
there, his arms tight around me--I felt the shaft pulsing in my hole and
tightened my muscles to give him maximum sensation.

At last Gary let me go with a sigh and let his full weight rest on my
back. He kissed the back of my neck. "Man, you are hot," he said.

I was too satiated and breathless to reply. After a moment he rose and
pulled himself out of me. I turned around to see him wiping himself with
his tank top. He held it out to me and laughed at what must have been the
squeamishness on my face. "Better clean yourself up, buddy, there's cum
running down the backs of your legs. It's this or your own T-shirt."

Faced with that, I obeyed, as Gary pulled his jeans back up. After I was
done, I held the tank top gingerly in my hand. "Just toss it," Gary said.

I shook my head. "This is a wildlife refuge, we can't litter."

Gary guffawed. "We just fucked our brains out in the woods and you're
worried about littering? Whatever," he said, shaking his head, still
chuckling as he started back down the hill toward the creek. I followed
him, awkwardly trying to pull my clothes back on as we walked. But I still
held the tank top.

When we returned to the creek, instead of crossing back over the stones,
Gary sat on a large rock at the edge of the water. He looked at me. "Come
sit. Or do you have to go? Leave that thing for a minute, would you," he
said, eyeing the soiled clothing in my hand.

Leaving it on the bank, I found a spot next to him on the rock. My lust
was, for the moment, satisfied, but it still gave me a charge to be so
close to his lean, shirtless body. The sun sparkled on the water. No one
was in sight. After a moment, Gary draped one arm around my shoulder
companionably. "Great day, huh?" he said.

"Yes, it is," I answered.

"How about having some dinner at my place?"

I hesitated. Gary's eyes narrowed. "Hubby's waiting, is that it?"

"Robert's out of town," I replied truthfully. Going home with Gary would be
stepping over some invisible line that so far I had managed to avoid
crossing.

"Then what's the matter? I'm not talking about Chinese take-out, man. I
really cook."

"No kidding?"

"Sure, I worked in the St. John's University cafeteria as head caterer for
years. I can cook for five hundred, no sweat."

"What do you do now, Gary?"

"Build things. Construction. I'm an independent contractor."

"Well, you look the part," I said. A construction worker who cooked--a wet
dream come to life, I thought.

Gary smiled and, leaning forward, kissed me lightly. "Thanks, man." I was
becoming more and more intrigued by his rough charm. "What do you say? It's
been months since I cooked for anyone but me."

I shrugged and crossed the line. "Okay, I'll follow you."

"Great! And," he said, his grin sharpening, "bring my top. I'll throw it in
the wash while supper's on the stove."

Dinner that night in his tiny second-floor apartment was delicious. When we
were finished eating, he led me to the couch, stripped me and then himself,
and took me again.  Afterward, he lay with his head on my chest, spent at
last. I looked at one strong arm thrown across my body and noticed long
white scars on the skin of the forearm. I ran my finger down the length of
one. "What happened to you there?"

"Ex-lover came at me with a kitchen knife," he said sleepily.

I whistled. "When?"

"Oh, years ago. He was coked up one night and got mad when I came home too
late."

"Well, I hope he got what he deserved for doing that to you."

Gary laughed mirthlessly. "You could say that. I pressed charges against
Jack, got him sent up for five years, attempted murder. At the state pen
some guys on his cellblock found out he was queer, cornered him in the
shower and gangraped him. He hung himself in his cell soon after that."

I was silent with horror and also with embarrassment at the stupidity of my
remark. "Gary, I'm sorry, I had no idea."

He looked at me with those piercing eyes. "It's tough out in the real
world, professor."

We lay there in silence but the comfortable feeling I had had a moment
earlier was gone. After a moment I stirred. "I'd better go."

"I thought you said your lover was out of town," Gary said, letting me up
unwillingly. "Aren't you spending the night?"

"I don't think so," I replied. The reality of the situation was starting to
close in on me, like Gary's cramped apartment. I had taken advantage of my
partner's absence to fuck around and go home with a man I hardly knew,
someone with a violent past.

As if reading my mind, Gary said, "I'm not going to murder you in your
sleep, guy. Just because someone took a knife to me once doesn't mean I'm a
psycho." He smiled crookedly. "That's what I get for telling you about
Jack."

"I asked, you told me," I said, pulling my clothes on. "It's not that,
Gary. Listen--thanks for dinner, and--" I paused.

"The fuck?" Gary grinned. "Any time." I looked at him, still lying naked on
his side on the couch, the cock that had impaled and conquered me hanging
downward, heavy in repose. I drew in my breath.

"Could I--could I call you?"

"Like I said, man--any time. I'm in the book. Drive safe now."

I let myself out the door, got in my car and drove home to my dark and
empty house. I removed my clothes, my own hands on my body reminding me at
every instant of his hands. Lying on Robert's and my bed in the silent
house, I saw his mischievous smile, his body taut with thrusting
power. Finally I let my hands draw another climax from my body so that I
could sleep.

How long did we last? It's hard to recall now. For months, perhaps a year
or more, I showed up at his place whenever I could get away, which wasn't
often. I think to this day Robert doesn't know what I was up to--his
elegant mind would have had serious trouble imagining such a
situation. Driving to Gary's apartment after having carefully crafted a few
empty evening hours in my schedule, I would sometimes shake my head myself
at the absurdity of it all. I had always liked to fuck around--a fact that
had resulted in some painful quarrels with my partner before we struck an
uneasy truce--but this consuming physical hunger for one man amazed and
scared me. At the same time, it allowed me to keep the thing between Gary
and me safely boxed up in my mind, to tell myself it was all just
chemistry.

What I hadn't counted on was Gary. I underestimated him. Because of his
wit, his ability to skewer my pretensions, his willingness to laugh at my
expense, I made the mistake of supposing he took us lightly too. I still
regret that.

He began to complain about how little he saw me. "I know I can't call you
at home, man, but can't you call back when I call your office?"

"It's just a busy time, Gary." This was true--I was up for a promotion and
I was really gunning for it. If I got it, I would be the youngest full
professor at the university. I tried to explain to Gary what was involved,
but he brushed the complexities of the issue aside impatiently. "What's a
`full' professor, anyway... aren't you one already? You're good at what
you'll do, you'll get it," he said. As the time drew nearer, I grew more
and more nervous. Gary's observations irritated rather than soothed me. He
sensed this, of course, and was hurt by it. His ability to see through me
didn't help my equilibrium.

"You don't want the money," he said one Saturday when I had finally managed
to get away after more than month without seeing him. "It's an ego thing
for you--you just want to be the youngest full whatever. It's just like my
job. It is," he insisted as he saw me shake my head. "Sure, it bugs me that
I'm assistant superintendent on the site and the real super is a
twenty-four year old kid. You hear me moaning and bitching about it?"

"It's not the same, Gary," I said, a bit wearily. "That's not the only
reason I want the promotion. Let's drop it, it's too complicated."

"I know you think I'm a stupid hick, Tom. Maybe you're right, I don't know
much. You don't have to rub it in. Fuck you," Gary said with sudden
bitterness. "Don't come around if all you're going to do is put me down."

"Oh, Christ, Gary, why do you have to blow everything up? Look, maybe today
just isn't a good day," I said, getting up from the couch.

"Yeah," he said, "Go back to your lover, you ought to be with him anyway."

"Okay, that does it," I said, walking toward the door. "I can't deal with
this today."

"Drive safe now," he said sarcastically. It was what he always said to me
when I left, ever since that first time. Stung into anger, I walked out
without a word, and stayed away for six months.

Gary was as proud and stubborn a cuss as I was. During those months, he
never called--or at any rate, never left a message. I guess in the end he
won, since I was the one who broke down and made contact first.

So here we were. "Can I come by?" I said into the receiver.

A long pause, then a sigh. "Why the hell not."

I had called him from my office on a Friday soon after the school year
started. On Monday I had a little time after my last class of the day
before I was expected home--Robert had a meeting that he had told me would
last into the evening.

I parked my car in the lot of his apartment complex and walked up the
flight of stairs to his door. The nondescript gray paint on it was peeling,
I noticed. I rapped the knocker, feeling the familiar nervousness at the
thought of his eyes scrutinizing me. I had on my usual work clothes: a blue
oxford shirt crisply pressed gray wool slacks, a necktie. On one of my
visits, he had said, "I like seeing you dressed up."

I had been pleased at the unexpected compliment, but, unable to leave well
enough alone, had tried to tease him. "Why's that? Remind you of those
married guys who service you?"

"Nope. I like it `cause I know what's underneath when I get those
clothes off. Tom the professor turns into Tom the slut." He had laughed
then, knowing that he had bested me yet again.

The door opened and Gary was there. "Hey," I said, trying to sound
casual. He did not reply, but turned and walked back into the apartment,
leaving the door open. I followed him inside into the cool semidarkness,
shutting it behind me.

He turned to face me again and I braced myself, anticipating his
temper. Instead, without a word, he caught me suddenly in a fierce
embrace. Touched, I hugged him back.  Just as abruptly he let me go, but
kept hold of my hand and led me into the small living room. He sat on the
couch and pulled me toward him, enfolding me in his arms again. We lay
there for a few moments. His hard body felt good next to mine. I spoke
against his ear. "Why so affectionate?" I asked.

I heard his snort of disgust, and he grasped my head and lifted it so that
I was gazing into his eyes. The steel in them had returned. "I can't act
like I'm glad to see you?"

"Well," I said, "you didn't sound all that glad on the phone."

"Maybe you pissed me off, not calling for six months. Maybe I actually
missed you and wondered where the hell you were, did you think about that?"
He made another contemptuous noise. "What the fuck am I saying this shit
for. Like you care."

"You're right. I was a jerk." I sat up, wanting to get away from those
eyes.

"Big of you to say that, bro."

"Well, Gary, should I just go?"

I looked at him. He stared back, still pugnacious, then, abruptly, his
smile broke out. It had been a long time since I had seen it and it took my
breath away. "You ain't getting away that easy, asshole."

He then sat up, grabbed my tie and pulled my face to his. He kissed me,
hard as always. I fumbled at his jeans, managing to get them undone as our
mouths stayed locked together, and found his hard cock. I held the shaft
for a moment, my thumb rubbing the front of the knob in a way I knew he
liked, spreading the wetness at the slit over the head. Then I bent and
took it into my mouth. Gary let me suck him for a few moments, then said,
"let's get naked."

He got up and I followed him to the bedroom. He turned as I entered and
shut the door behind me, his eyes glinting in that way I had learned
signaled his desire. He undid my tie and whipped it off, then unbuttoned my
shirt, slipping a hand inside and pinching one of my nipples. He grinned
when I jumped, bent and took the same nipple into his mouth. I could not
restrain a grunt of pleasure, running my hand through his wiry locks.

Gary turned me around and pushed me onto his bed, a mattress and box spring
thrown on the floor. He kissed me again, his hands pinning mine to the
mattress. It was as if the pent-up emotions of the past months were pouring
out of his mouth all at once. I freed myself and threw my arms around him,
responding to his passion. He finally withdrew for a moment and I stared
into his wild eyes. "I thought we were going to get naked," I said.

He nodded wordlessly, sat up and began taking off his clothes. I did the
same. Then he came at me again, kissing my body all over, working downward
until he took my cock in his mouth. Propping myself on my elbows, I lifted
my head and watched him suck me, hard and with concentration, sliding up
and down on my shaft with tightly sealed lips, pulling my balls just hard
enough to tighten the skin on my shaft and heighten my pleasure. I felt the
cum start to gather in my balls. "I'm going to shoot if you keep doing
that," I told him.

Gary stopped sucking me in response. "Not yet. This load's for me, bud." He
sat up and reached past me to the cinder block he kept by the head of the
bed as a nightstand. He pulled the tube of K-Y out and squeezed the lube
out onto his hand. Then, to my surprise, he grasped my cock and slickened
it. As I started to protest, not wanting him to jack me off, he again
stopped. This time he reached behind him with the same hand. My eyes
widened and Gary smiled. He saw that I had figured out what he was up to.

He straddled my body, his knees on either side of me, took hold of my cock
again and positioned it between his cheeks. I felt it pushing against his
hole and then, all of a sudden, the heat of his innards as the head slid
in. At the same time, Gary said "Shit!" and a grimace of pain crossed his
face. I took hold of him with my hands to stop him from descending
further. Gary looked at me, twinkling despite the hurt. "Don't worry man,
I'll be okay. It's just been a while, that's all." In a moment, he began to
push down with his body until his butt was pressed firmly against
me. Gary's eyes were closed, his mouth open, his face upturned with
pleasure. "God, that's great," he whispered, as he began to slide up and
down on my cock.

I was giddy myself at the sensations he was drawing from me, squeezing with
his ass muscles as he continued his motions. That's a picture of Gary that
will stay forever in my mind--my tough working man, who had never let me
top him before, on his knees riding my cock, jacking himself off in rhythm
with his downward thrusts against my pubes. His blue eyes had lost their
glitter and were veiled with pleasure, his mouth hung half open, his
breathing was quick and shallow. I reached up and began to tease and
squeeze his nipples and he closed his eyes again. "Yes Tom," I heard him
breathe.

I began to feel another climax approaching. Gary had an uncanny way of
sensing this and slowed his movements. "Oh no," I protested and he grinned
in his usual mischievous way.

"Not yet, bud," he said, and lifted himself completely off of me.

"Hey, where are you going?" I asked.

He turned onto his back onto the bed at my side. "Come and get it man, I
want you on top."

I needed no further urging as I knelt between his legs, grasping his ankles
and spreading them apart, quickly pushing into his stretched hole. No
longer interested in prolonging our coupling, I began to drive into him
fiercely. Gary's eyes shone again as he took the force of my assault, his
hand pulling on his own cock. "That's right, fuck the shit out of me man,
fuck me, fuck me...."

His whispered words drove me to frenzy. "Take it, Gary. Take my cum up your
fucking hot hole. Take it... Oh god... HERE IT COMES," I shouted, as I felt
myself go past the point of no return, the cum rush up from my balls,
through my dick and deep into his gut. No more words came from me, only
hoarse cries as I dumped what felt like gallons of sperm into his
ass. After a few seconds, I opened my eyes and saw the last few spurts from
Gary's dick landing on his stomach.

I bent downward and kissed him. Our tongues tangled together sensuously,
still passionate but tired as well. I licked some of the cum off him, then
let myself slip out as I stretched out full length on his body. We lay in
each other's arms as our breathing slowed.

I finally raised my head and looked at him. "Why'd you do that?" I asked.

"Do what?"

"Let me top you. You never let me do that before."

He shrugged. "Changed my mind. Wanted to know what it felt like with you."

"So what did it feel like?"

He glared at me in mock annoyance. "You have to ask? Let me up, I have to
go get dinner started." He wriggled out from under me and started to head
for the bathroom.

I sighed inwardly. "Gary, I don't think--"

He turned and I expected his wrath to descend. Instead, he simply said,
"Please Tom, stay and eat, would you?"

This was so unlike him that I could think of nothing to say except, "Okay."

Dinner was tasty as usual, but I wondered all the while what was going
on. I watched Gary as he ate a slice of the apple pie he had baked for
dessert, cutting a bite with his fork and putting it in his mouth. He
finally looked up and said, "Never seen a guy eat before?"

"What's going on?" I said flatly.

He finished chewing his bite, swallowed it, put down his fork and looked at
me. "Tom, I'm really glad you called. Thought I might not get to see you
before--"

"Before what?"

"Before I left town," he said.

I tried to comprehend what he had just said. "You're--leaving?"

"Yep. Got a job offer from a cousin I have in Tallahassee to come manage
some apartments he owns for him. It's steady, the pay's better than what I
get now, and I get to live rent free in one of the units on site."

"When?"

"Lease is up at the end of the month, so in three days I have to pack up my
stuff, load it in the pickup and off I go. This is a furnished unit so none
of that is mine anyway."

I struggled with the hollow feeling that was spreading inside me, and the
lump that was forming in my throat. "I don't believe this."

Gary shrugged. "Tom, it's not like I'm your partner or anything."

It was true, but.... How could I say what I felt to Gary when I could
barely understand it myself? Somehow during the time I'd known him he'd
become more than just a hot number. Now, I was losing him.

Some of this seemed to be going through Gary's mind as well. He shifted
uncomfortably in the shabby kitchen chair, turning to one side. "You know,
I used to go crazy when weeks went by and you wouldn't call back. I'd tell
myself, why are you letting him get to you, he's just a jerk who's crazy
for your cock...."

I found my voice. "Gary, it was more than that."

"Well," he replied, "me too. I cared for you. Guess we both let things get
a little out of hand."

"I treated you like shit."

Gary smiled in his crooked way. "What else could you do? I'm just a trick,
man. I knew that. It's okay."

He had seen through me again, as he always had. I got up and went around
the table. Kneeling in front of him, I laid my head in his lap and put my
arms around him. I thought I would cry, but the tears wouldn't come. The
anguish remained tight and hard, locked inside my chest. Gary stroked my
hair.

 After a while, he said, "Better go, it's late." I nodded and stood up.

"Do you have an address where you're going?" I asked.

"Sure. Come and visit if you're ever in the neighborhood." Gary got up and
picked up a pen from somewhere. "Got something I can write on?"

I took a business card out of my wallet. Gary put it on the kitchen table
and printed neat characters on it. I had never seen his handwriting
before. "The number is my cousin's. He'll be able to tell you mine when I
get a phone."

I took the card and put it back, and gave him another copy. I knew I
probably never would write or call, and Gary knew it too. Still, it was
better than just saying good-bye.

He walked me to the door. I turned and put my arms around him one last
time. He hugged me back and kissed me lightly. "Drive safe now, guy," he
said.

"You too," I answered, then quickly let myself out.

It's been over a year since that last evening. How can I explain what Gary
was in my life? He was not my lover, but he was more than just another
trick. I miss him, I know that. I miss his blue eyes, his crooked grin, the
urgent touch of his rough hands. He surprised me one last time, sending a
postcard to my school mailbox a month after he left. "Got here in one
piece," it said. "Come and visit." Gary, you never know. I just might do
that.

END