Date: Tue, 22 Jul 2003 12:34:06 -0700 (PDT)
From: Patrick Young <claycub51@yahoo.com>
Subject: Clay Chapter 14

Clay Chapter 14-  NOW, THE FUTURE

This is a work of fiction involving sexually explicit
activities between consenting males. If such subject matter
is offensive to you, if you are too young or live in an area
where such material is not allowed, then don't read it. This
is your option.

In this fictional world, protection from sexually transmitted
diseases is optional. In the real world, everyone should care
enough about themselves and all their partners to practice
safe sex. Always. No exceptions.

The author retains all rights to this work. No reproductions
or links to other sites are permitted without the expressed
consent of the author.

As Clay's revelation comes to completion, I give thanks for
the support and input of my dear friends and colleagues: to
Evan my Lion and my brothers Tim, Ash and Tommy; to Mickey,
Sara, Johnny, Bobby and Ed; and all my loyal (and sooooo
patient) prior and new readers, for your encouragement.
Special thanks to Ash for writing the Dan scene, giving it
freely to include as perspective, insight and brotherhood; to
Evan and Dick for embracing your partnership and its
importance to me, your magical edits, perfectly placed as
always, and for your nurturing; to The Divine for revealing
the Pride; and to my wife for understanding what writing this
has brought out of me for all of us.

Patrick
claycub51@yahoo.com

* * * * *

"I've fucked up this time," Clay mumbled.

He pulled himself up to sitting. Ungh! Stickiness tugged at
hair from his ass, as Josh's body separated from their
coupling. Josh groaned, smiled, rolled over and was instantly
fast asleep again, snoring ever so slightly. Clay pulled the
duvet up over Josh's round shoulder.

Clay found his robe and wrapped it around him tightly. The
sweet traces of incense from Josh's Buddhist shrine in the
living room of the downstairs front apartment, combined with
the distinct scent of sweaty sex, were at once pungent and
familiar yet unsettling.

He slipped out of Josh's condo and headed up the stairs to
his own door, slid the key into the lock, turned it and
cautiously pushed, expecting to be thwarted by the security
chain engaged.  But no, the door flew open. Claire must still
be blissfully asleep, thank God. He entered and scanned the
dark room, pushed back against the door, but it didn't quite
catch, stayed slightly ajar. Slowly he sank to the floor, and
dissolved into a numbness of regret. "Surely I'm not the
first man to give in to his hard dick! Damn! Why do I do
this?" he asked the gathering glow of morning. "I'm sorry,
Claire, but I just couldn't stop...." At some point Clay
drifted off to troubled unconsciousness.

After a time Clay came to and sat up. First light was coming
in from the skylight, giving faint color to the dark shapes
around him.  The stone in his heart was as heavy as the dull
steady throb in his balls, betraying his conflicted
rationalization of what had happened this night. The truth.
That's the only standard. The truth.  Tell the truth, to
Claire, to himself. It ain't pretty but it is the truth.

Clay dragged himself to the kitchen and put on a pot of
coffee. The whirr of the grinder was followed by the toilet
flushing in the back of the condo. 'Okay, here it comes.
She's up,' he thought. He went to the door and picked up the
morning paper waiting there, closing it firmly this time.
When he turned, Claire was padding down the hall, came up to
him and dove into his arms.

"Mmmm, you feel good," she crooned as she pressed her body
into his. "I missed you in the night when I got up to go to
the bathroom, hot stuff. Take a walk up on the deck?"

Clay froze, clinched. He clutched her voluptuous body to him.
"Oh, sweetheart, I'm such a schmuck!" he whispered, burying
his nose in her red tresses, inhaling deeply of apple and
mint and sleep. "I... I went downstairs..."

Claire chuckled. "What, did you go fuck with Josh, too, you
randy bastard? Wore me out and still needed some more?" She
grabbed his ass cheek and kneaded it tenderly, causing Jake
to swell against her softness.

Clay stiffened, his breath caught in his throat, heart
pounding. He swallowed hard, loudly. "What do you mean,
'more,' Claire?" He stroked her slowly, a tear dropping into
her hair.

She felt him shift, stiffen in her arms. 'What's up here?'
she flashed. She pulled back and looked up into his
tearstained, contorted face. "Honey? What is it?" she asked.

Two new tears coursed down his cheeks. "How did you know?"

"What? That you were still hot and horny after that hour of
bliss you took me to? Oh, Clay, come on!" she said quietly.
"You leave me breathless without taking care of yourself too
often, and I don't wonder that you go jerk off, or whatever?
Sweetie, you've needed a second, or third, round ever since
we've been together, and I've never felt slighted, ever!" She
read his handsome face, saw that he was still tormented.
"What's so awful?" Then she saw the scene in his eyes. "You
did go to Josh ..."

Clay's face twisted into anguish, tears streaming anew.
"Yes," he croaked, "I did. I'm sorry...."

Claire blanched for a second. 'Hmmm....' she thought, her face
turning red for a moment.  But she was pleasantly calm as she
pulled him close again. 'Well, it was with his sweet Josh,
and I know they love each other in their special way... and he
DID come home....' She sighed heavily, and said, "Clay Grant, I
love you. I love that you think I'm going to read your beads,
throw you out for loving your men. Sorry, honey, but I can't
do that. I love you. I need you with me." She felt him sag,
sobbing again.

"I can't control it, and I hate myself for not being able to
stop!" Clay blurted, clutching his beautiful bride to his
chest. "But I've never been in love with anyone but you!"

Claire let him vent, holding him loosely but close, secure.
"And you think I don't know that?" she whispered.

Clay was stunned. He stared into Claire's kind eyes, blurry
through his tears. "Yeah, I know you know that about me. You
know everything about me. I've never intended to hide
anything from you. I feel awful...."

Claire smiled warmly at her beautiful man. "And I love you
anyway. You don't get it yet, do you?"

"Get what?" Clay choked.

Claire clutched her hunky man to her voluptuous bosom,
rocking them both. "You can't be anything but yourself, and I
love who your are, Clay. By yourself, or with your friends,
your guys, with me, you're always a magic man. I know how you
feel about Josh and I know what you mean to him. Josh isn't
just some anonymous fuck. He's special to you. I'm
understanding that better and better. Do you think I can
separate myself loving you from you loving all those other
parts of yourself the way you have to? That's the part of you
that I can't live without."

Clay raised his gaze to face his wife. "Josh is very special.
I didn't realize you knew how much. Still, he's not my one
and only. That's you, only you!"

"I'm getting better at it, honey. Really, I am. I believe in
you. I believe God gave you to me just as you are, and I
can't worry about the details that still don't quite fit yet.
I'm working on that. I know you are trying hard to figure out
your parts, too." She kissed the top of his curly head. "I'm
not going anywhere while we work through this, my love,
because we're going to do it together, no matter what!"

Clay took a shuddering cleansing breath and clutched Claire
to him. "I don't know how I deserve you..." he said softly.
"This is so different from what I thought our life would be
about."

Claire chuckled back, "Tell me about it! I should want to
kill you, but I don't. That's the strangest part of all: I'd
lose the best thing that has ever happened to me if you
weren't with me, loving me. I won't risk that."

"I love you so much!" Clay replied, stroking her cheek. "I'm
so blessed that you still love me like I am!"

"Well, some days it's a helluva challenge!" The strange
gurgle of the coffeemaker sounded from the kitchen, finishing
the brew cycle.  "So go get a shower, you horny goat. I'll
bring you a cup of caffeine to shave by. Just don't slit your
throat! I want you around for a long time."

* * * * *


Clay looked out over Judiciary Square Park from the District
Empowerment Project Office window at the cherry and redbud
trees that were just showing the first color of spring. "What
a beautiful city this is as it wakes up from winter," he
thought, watching two brave squirrels play tag across the
walkways. He didn't hear the footsteps from behind him.
Suddenly he was surrounded by strong arms that pulled him
into a wall of muscle, a heavy package of manhood grinding
into his asscheeks as a hot tongue slurped up the side of his
neck before skewering his ear. He jumped and squealed at the
invasion, but quickly broke into a hearty chuckle.

"Good thing I recognize a Cub Attack, or I'd'a had to hurt
ya, ya sneak!" He leaned into the warm embrace of his twin
Warren with a purr, stroked the big hand that was none-too-
gently tweaking his left nipple. "I'll give you an hour to
quit that...."

Warren took Clay's earlobe between his teeth and tugged
playfully. "You know I'd already have you naked on the
carpet, stud, if I was serious about doing you, you're so
easily debauched!" he growled.

A lump formed in Clay's throat, and his heart, as he sagged
back against his cubbrother. "And I wish that weren't so
true, either, dammit! I don't know what's wrong with me these
days...." he said quietly.

"Here now," Warren rumbled as he turned the big blond around
to face him, cupping the smooth chin to bring Clay's brimming
eyes to meet his, "what's all this about?"

A tear escaped and rolled down Clay's cheek. Warren's thick
thumb brushed it away gently. "I feel like such a cheap slut
today, bro," he began, a deep sigh escaping. "I'm not in
control of the raging hormones running this hard dick of
mine, man, and I'm afraid Claire's going to get fed up with
Jake's antics one of these days and toss me out on my furry
ass!"

"Talk to me, cubby," Warren replied. "What did you do to make
you think Claire would do that?"

Clay took a deep breath and turned back to the window. "After
you all left last night, Claire and I had a marathon welcome
home romp, beautiful, mad, sweet love for a good hour, and it
was as perfect as ever. Claire went right to sleep, but I
guess I wasn't spent yet. So I wandered around the apartment
for a while, had another Scotch, then I saw Josh coming home
from his date. I went down and met him at the elevator,
dragged him into his apartment and made him fuck the living
shit out of my ass." He wheeled around to catch the scowl on
Warren's brow, swallowed hard, but continued pouring it out
in an increasing torrent, "When I woke up before morning and
came home, I felt like such a fraud! I realized I had done
something that could jeopardize my marriage, going off for
more sex - mansex! - leaving my wife in our bed to scratch
this... this damned itch I'm cursed with! I must be fuckin'
stupid, or sick! And when she gets up, she tells me she
figured out what I had done, that I had gone looking for a
fuck, and says she isn't mad about it. What kind of angel is
that?" Clay ranted, near hyperventilation. "She should'a shot
me! I don't deserve her! I'm a miserable, rotten, hard, randy
prick!"

"Whoa, cubbo, take it easy," Warren said as he gathered his
brother to him and pressed the tearstained face to his neck.
"Somethings's screwing with your processor in that big, sweet
heart of yours. You're not being my wise Lion cohort, the
TruthBringer. Now get a grip on whoever's poisoning your
reasoning and just stop it, you hear me?!" Clay's heaving
gasps abated slowly. Warren took him by the shoulders and
shook him once, locking eyes.  "Now, listen to me, Clay
Grant, and listen good! You're a good man and a good, loving
husband. You're bisexual, and you're still figuring out what
that means in your life. You're not stupid, and you're
certainly not sick, dammit, not even in the psychiatric
parameters any more. So what's got your head up your ass so
far that you shut down on us like this? And I mean ALL of us
who love you exactly as you are!"

"And that includes us that love you and enjoy a good fucking
with you, too, cubby!" growled the little muscleman who had
stood at the door just long enough to hear the last exchange,
before striding up to embrace his bookend boys in his big
muscled arms. Corey planted a loud wet kiss on Clay's damp
cheek, his wild silver beard tickling, then did the same to
Warren. "And your brother's dead right: there ain't NOTHING
sick nor bad nor wrong about you. So you just stop saying
that shit! You're my Truth Teller, Clay. Now tell me the
truth!"

Clay sighed, brightening. "You two are so special!"

Warren kissed his forehead. "So are you, my brother, and
don't you forget it. Now spill it. What's got you so freaked,
stud?"

"Where to start?" Clay sighed. "I'm supposed to be in control
of myself by now, and I'm just as baffled as any twelve year
old with his first ejaculation. I'm scared, and amazed, and
feel so good, but I can't make it all fit. What's wrong with
me? I trust you guys to tell me the truth..."

Corey took Clay's hand and guided him to the couch. "Sit
down, son, and get it all out. We're not going anywhere."

Warren countered, "I'll be right back. I think we all need a
little refreshment." He strode out the door down the hall.

"He's such a good mother! I marvel at his sweetness and
spirit," Corey chuckled. He gazed into Clay's green eyes with
hint of sadness. "I'm gonna tell you a story, Clay, one I've
only told Warren. I've always been gay. I never knew what a
healthy straight relationship is, cubby, because I grew up in
a loveless, hateful home where we all had to fend for
ourselves. My Momma and Papa were a couple of poor breeders
in the most hardscrabble circumstances down South, didn't
know any better than to work and fuck and fight and scream
and bitch about everything.  Gender made no difference, they
barely survived basic humanity.  My three brothers and I
never heard a kind word between any of the grownups around
us, so we stuck together from the start. I had to teach them
that they mattered, to me as well as to themselves. We didn't
know what kindness or nurturing was, nor that loving wasn't
just an ordeal to be endured with another mouth to feed,
usually, from a night of fucking. All Papa ever snarled was
'Goddamned female!! No wonder I never wanted to get close to
one after all that misery and screaming...."

Corey took a deep breath and continued, "I knew I was queer
from day one, and my brothers were my angels. It was up to me
to hold them and protect them and keep them from being beaten
on by either that ignorant asshole male or that miserable
shrew female who ruled us. I taught them how to feel good,
how to make their bodies feel good. We were a team: sharing
when we had nothing, feeding each with other what little we
did have, protecting each other, loving each other, until
they got big enough to leave. I was all of fourteen when Sam
said 'fuck this nightmare' on the night of his thirteenth
birthday; Jamie bolted at the same age the next year. Wish I
knew where they are now, but that's another story." His voice
faded to a near whisper.

Corey cleared his throat. "In another year the youngest,
Kyle, was eleven, so I decided enough was enough one night
and took him with me to California. I peddled my tough little
sixteen-year-old ass on the streets of San Francisco, to keep
Kyle under a roof and in school, and he never lacked for love
and safety. Did it for three years, but then one Saturday
night I was busted for soliciting, and my baby brother got
snatched up into the fuckin' system. By the time I got out he
was gone without a trace, and I swore I would never trust
anyone but myself again. That was the night I met my Daddy."

Clay's eyebrow characteristically raised in question, but he
didn't interrupt. Corey went on, "Jack was the ugliest,
biggest, baddest mother fucker in the city, and he literally
picked me up walking out of jail. Said he liked how my hot
ass pooched out my jeans, asked what I needed. I said 'My
life back.' He said 'Get on.' So I got behind him on his
Harley and rode off to what, I didn't care. He knew he owned
me, I surrendered totally to his every word and requirement,
but he refused me sexually. Oh, he got my attention, all
right, had to go upside my head a couple times at first. He
bathed me and fed me and clothed me and protected me and
loved me and made me do right. Helped me look for the boys,
turning up nothing, except that he found out Kyle had
committed suicide after a foster placement put him in the
hands of a pedophile. I guess that's one of the reasons I've
never given up on the possibilities of life rather than the
expectations of others. Jack taught me the gift of
selflessness, courage to face the truth, even when it's ugly.
You make me remember those gifts, cubby...." Corey took Clay's
hand in his gently, stroked the dark blond hair wistfully.

"Anyway, Jack made me grow up into a man, honest and hard,
but kind and real. I had to beg him to fuck me, which he
didn't do for almost a year, and not until I had a real job
and was in school and went to church with him and had my body
clean and fit and my mind under control. Once I knew my own
worth to myself, then he claimed me. Made me fuck him good
first, too, to prove I knew what loving was about. Taught me
the power of being a whole human being. But our world was
only about men. I don't know what it is to have women in my
life, much less the love of a woman. You do, Clay. You know
how to give your love to both women and men. Your life is
about walking both sides of the street, and that's a lot of
giving. I don't know what that's like. Suddenly I feel kinda
deprived, knowing you, observing you with Claire..."

Clay stared at the compact man whose glorious body glowed
with light and power before him. "I don't know how to react
to all that, Corey..." he said slowly.

The ice blue eyes twinkled back. "Then 'splain me somethin',
buddy: how can you be such a beautiful, sexy, wonderful man
mated to one of the most amazing women on the planet, and
that energy is so similar to mine, but mine's totally about
my own sex? You're the first real bisexual I've ever known
this intimately, and I've had plenty of sex with plenty of
men at various stages of their self-awareness who were just
playing with mansex. Now here you are, defined honestly and
totally by your life with your woman, your authenticity
anchored in your marriage with Claire, solid as my bond with
Warren. Yet you connect with me with the same intensity -
whole, giving, honest, and powerful. Do you know how baffling
that is to most gay men?"

Warren sensed the poignancy in his mate's question as he came
in the door carrying bottles of water, which he handed out
silently. "Thanks, love," Corey said to Warren, taking a
bottle, then turned back to Clay as his twin sat next to him,
throwing a heavy arm across Clay's shoulders.

Warren chimed in, "My family was the Cleavers personified,
parents who adored each other, a sister and a brother who are
as straight at six o'clock, now blissfully married with kids
and dogs and picket fences. I had every opportunity to do the
same, had some great relationships, just that all my life I
wanted another man. You know the story of how I met Corey.
I've never felt any difference about the dynamic between the
men and women in my family as compared with my mating to my
man, and neither has the family, any of them. I believe you
love and mate who suits you. So how does that factor in?"

"I don't know if I can explain it, guys. I'm trying to figure
it out myself."

 "Well, while you're thinking about it, consider this one: Is
there any parallel in you loving both your woman and your men
to why I have no attraction to women at all and have only
known the love of men? Is it all about exposure, or is this
how we're hard wired to be? I only know how to give my
treasure, my love, to men. I've never had the opportunity to
relate to women as you have, so does that mean something
different to you because you can give your love to men as
well?"

"The point is that I'm NOT so clear on how I can love Claire
with all my heart and yet I love you, too," Clay replied.
"That's what's so damned difficult! There's no model for how
I feel, what I know to be so: I do love you all!"

"Then YOU be the model of this truth, bro, and be real,"
Warren said, stroking the thick blond curls at Clay's nape.
"Surely you're not the first, nor the only, man to figure out
that bisexuality is a viable, and honest, expression of who
you are, and how you are, and make it work with the people
you've chosen to be in your life. You're fearless when it
comes to making a difference, Clay. Why are you doubting
yourself at this point?"

"Claire knows how much you love her, cubby," Corey rumbled,
"and that nothing's gonna change your love for her, not even
that hard dick of yours wanting some male attention. You
don't stick it in just any hole, boy, you only share your
love with it. You're no slut, because you ARE in control of
whom you love. Your big heart rules that. It's just that you
aren't programmed with barriers like other people. There's no
shame in that. I know I'm right about you. That's your truth,
right?"

"Yes, that's true, Corey, but why does it suddenly not feel
normal to be so open to love? Most women aren't like Claire.
Most men, especially gay men, aren't like you two," Clay
said. "Heterosexuals are definitely more threatened than gays
are to such an alternative, and such awareness, much less
acceptance, moves at a snail's pace at best, if ever."

"And what's normal supposed to be, Clay?" Warren asked.
"Seems to me you're a very special person keeping company
with very special people. That sounds awfully normal, for
YOU. No one should be stuffed into the world's expectations
of what they're arbitrarily supposed to look or act or feel
like, so why are you beating yourself up? Why is Josh loving
you, and you loving him, suddenly this big issue for you with
Claire? Maybe THEY should talk to each other. In the
meantime, you just be real and be authentic with both of
them."

Clay clutched his sphincter and gulped. "You think they
would, without murdering me?" he blurted.

Corey chuckled in his rich bass. "Cubby, you're so scared of
being proven right, that you're projecting all kinds of
negativity out there. Stop that shit, son!" Corey reached
over and drew the big guy into a sloppy kiss, staring into
the emerald eyes of his partner, as he stroked the nipple of
the twin at his side, to whom he flashed a wink. "You know
where I'm going with this, don'tcha, love?" he murmured.

Warren clutched the two men to him. "Yes, Daddy, he's getting
there, but only he can answer the knock on that door, like
the one you opened for me. I was the one who had to walk
through it to your love, free and clear."

Jake was leaking into Clay's trunks, suddenly as hard as
Egyptian arithmetic. "Why do I get a feeling that I'm going
to regret the rest of this conversation?" he said with a soft
laugh.

Corey took Clay's chin in his hand and centered his gaze.
"Because you know I love you, cubbo, and your brother loves
you, and your wife loves you, and your guys love you, and
you're not going to get away with less than your best for us!
So quit living small, dammit! Model for us what it is to love
us like you do, what we don't understand yet, as you are: as
both fish AND fowl, as truly bisexual!!"


* * * * * * *

'How special these men in my life are!' Clay was thinking as
he watched Dan pump out the last rep of his lat routine and
fall back onto the bench with a grunt. Clay snatched the
weights and put them into place in the rack for his buddy.
"You're a madman, Danno! Ann's not going to be able to touch
you for a week with your muscles so sore, you keep that
intensity up!" he chuckled.  Clay wiped the his forehead with
the towel, then reached over to tenderly mop his friend's
dripping brow, then his cheek, then his neck, the broad chest
rising and falling as Dan recovered from the set. God, was
Jake swelling! The bulge in Dan's shorts was ominous, too.

"Ugh!" Dan grunted. "You've got me so pumped to get these
love handles back under control, I'm not thinking straight!"

Clay threw his leg over the bench, squatted down and planted
his ass into Dan's full crotch with an audible "OOMPH!" as he
stared into the shocked, open eyes of his gymdaddy partner.
"Why would you want to think straight, ya hot fucking hunk?
You're NOT straight, and neither am I. Why limit your
conversation to some arbitrary concept, my friend, when you
can talk to me free and real?"

Dan's eyes flashed raw fear at the surge of honesty that
washed over his every cell. His cock pulsed against the
flimsy nylon separating him from the damp jersey stuck to
Clay's hard buns grinding into his lap. He gulped, his eyes
suddenly tearing up. "You know what it is, don't you?"

"Yeah, Danno, it takes one to know one. We're special," Clay
panted. "And you're safe to be honest with me." He clasped
Dan's hand and raised him to sitting as he stepped back,
kneeling before the bench. "I want you to be yourself, my
friend. You can with me, you know..."

Dan shuddered, reached up and stroked Clay's sweating, kind
face. His cock was rock hard, pulsing. "Let's get out of
here, okay?"

They sauntered to the locker room in silence, peeled out of
their sweaty workout togs, and headed to the steam room after
loosely wrapping towels around their loins. They bumped up
against each other on the way, slick and warm and easy,
electricity zapping back and forth, down the back hall. The
room was deserted, full of clouds of hot wet energy. Clay
stepped to the upper deck and stretched out languidly, as Dan
slumped back on the lower bench, his brush cut tickling
Clay's thick thigh. Minutes passed as the two men relaxed.
Clay gently brought his fingertips to Dan's jaw, stroking the
strong muscle there.

"You're a terrific man, Dan Edwins," Clay murmured. "and I'm
very glad to be here with you!"

Dan reached up and stroked Clay's hand slowly. "I can't be
like you, so open and brave...."

"Who says you have to be like me? You're pretty awesome as
you are...." Clay sat up, straddling the broad shoulders as Dan
leaned his head back into Clay's crotch, rubbing against the
swelling Jake at his ear. He turned to the right and licked
the length of manflesh. "Mmmmm!" Clay crooned, stroking Dan's
other ear. "That's so nice...."

Dan nibbled at the turgid corona, then suddenly froze, his
hand filled with his own tumescence, stroking loosely. "I
want this, but it's been so long I don't know what to do any
more..."

"Be yourself," Clay said, "no more, no less than yourself.
This isn't really about sex with me, is it?"

Dan looked up through the steam with sad eyes. "I just
can't.... Ann..." he choked.

Clay smiled back. "Yeah, I know. I'm thinking about Claire,
too. She says she understands me loving my men, and God knows
I already love you, Dan, but this ain't about how I want to
be with you. It's about what YOU want, and when YOU're ready,
not me. So I'm here for you, but only as you choose. This is
your call, sweet man. Just tell me what you want me to be for
you. I'm here... for anything you need...."

"Yeah, it's... it's about just being easy, comfortable," Dan
admitted. "God knows you're my wildest wet dream come true,
but..."

Clay leaned down and kissed Dan's wet mouth sweetly. "Oh,
that's so good! I like being this close and easy with you,
too. There's no rush to be anything more than comfortable, my
friend."

Dan stood and embraced the big blond in his strong arms, his
hard cock sliding up Clay's furry abs. "My good friend!" he
echoed.  They stroked each other's slick skin easily, gently,
for long moments. A door down the hall slammed, startling
them both. Dan flinched, but Clay held him close. He relaxed
again into Clay's strong arms.

A sudden gurgle from Clay's stomach echoed off the walls.
"Must be lunch time, bro!" he snickered.

"My treat this time!" Dan said. "How about that beer and
burger place we went to the day you ran over me?"

"Perfect!" Clay responded as their erections continued to
duel. "But I really think we need a cold shower first! How
'bout it?"

"You're on! We better get these dicks down. Don't want to
scare the aerobics class, now do we?" Dan's rich baritone
resounded playfully off the walls.

Clay reached down and stroked the hot babymaker between Dan's
thick thighs, spreading the juice there around the gaping
piss slit with his broad thumb. "Hold this thought,
DaddyStud, and let me know when it's right for you.
Meanwhile, let's go get that beer!"




* * * * * * *


The bar's logo on the black tee strained across a taut left
nipple. Mack rolled up the sleeves just enough to peek at
the barbed wire tattoo circling his thick right bicep. 'Yeah,
quit hiding and flaunt a little,' he thought. Dark, flashing eyes
twinkled from beneath heavy lashes, a genuine smile crinkling
the corners. If he were 40, they'd be called crow's feet, but
at 26 they accented happiness of a real man living real life,
being in this body, this skin, this place at this moment,
working at a happening place with a hunky staff. And Mack's
first table today was two certifiable studs! Sweet!

"So, gentlemen, I'm Mack. What can I getcha this fine
afternoon?" the hunky bundle of energy chortled, as he drank
in the two big guys, two fine pieces of manhood dancing
easily in the other's presence as they settled into the back
booth of the place. 'And a side of WET for you both, if
you'll take me in tandem!!' he thought as his pucker clinched
at the image of having these two men, just a bit older than
he, but very centered, super confident, soooo sexy, plugging
him viciously from opposite angles in the back room. A spot
of wetness appeared on Mack's crisp khakis. He shook his head
subtly to clear the fantasy of his mind's eye. 'Damn these
light uniforms!' flashed as he lowered the menus to his
crotch. Mack  cleared his throat and snickered, locking eyes
with the white haired guy in stylish glasses with the short
goatee. 'Oh, my soul! Who's my daddy?!? And why didn't he
turn me on like you do today, stud?! WHEW!' He took a sharp
inhale, composed himself again, and smiled pleasantly. 'And
your hot partner can have sloppy seconds, or thirds, or
twelfths, in a heartbeat!!' as he beheld Clay beaming into
Dan's eyes with a look of wonder. 'God, they're in lust! And
I've got to stay a trained professional and just watch it go
down! FUCK! I've got to keep this job!' Another surge of
honey flew up his shaft. "If I'm not rushing you, sirs..." he
stammered, "I could come back later, if you're not ready
quite yet...."

Dan riveted Mack's big brown eyes with a wink and a grin.
"You've got a good amber on tap, as I remember, right?"

Mack gulped. "Yessir! FitzPatrick's house amber ale is rich,
cold and sweet!" A thousand watt smile erupted.

Dan drank in the handsome waiter, then licked his lips, and
glanced at Clay, who winked back at him. "Then make it two
tall drafts! I'll promise my buddy will have his feeble mind
made up by the time you get back!"

Mack turned and fled to the monitor, where he furiously
touched in the order. His palms were sweating, his crotch
straining. 'Damn! They'll fire me for sure if I fuck this
table up with my tongue on the floor!' he scowled. "Get a
grip, Morgan!!" he snarled under his breath.

His gaze wandered to booth six again. Drank in the two
powerful guys there. Wondered what the story was. They were
so animated, so happy to be in each other's company! Then the
big blond reached over and claims the other guy's hand. And
he squeezes back! OMG! What, are they an item? Are they
playing? What's up with this? The guys in this place don't
touch, much less hold hands!! I'd get pounded if I did that
by the homophobes in this backwater, right? But there they
are! And they don't care who sees, or knows....

"Mack, pick up!" snarled Frank the bartender.

Two tall ambers, coming up, with a flourish! Mack marched
over to the back booth with the brimming glasses perfectly
poised, arriving in time to hear the blond guy say "...and I
can't believe I went downstairs anyway and made him fuck me
blind, and my wife basically blew it off, gave me permission
to share an hour of bliss with my buddy, because she knows
that my men don't preclude her, just make it better. Now how
amazing is that, Danno?" Mack set the glasses down in front
of his customers, his hand suddenly shaky, as he said,
"Have you decided on lunch?" with a barely stifled croak.

The two men released the grip they had on each other's hands,
smiling gently. Clay patted Dan's mitt, looked up at the
bewildered face of their server, and winked. "I wish I could
say he was my brother and not have to explain, bud, but I
think you've caught us being much more than that." Clay said
softly. He stared into the hunky waiter's brown eyes, saw
both envy and resignation to staying professional there, so
continued, "My good friend and I are pushing boundaries
today, and being honest about that. So we're celebrating over
lunch." Mack nodded in disbelief at what he was hearing. "Ya
think a couple of turkey club specials will fuel us up to get
to resolution, stud?"

Mack was floored! Two men, real mature guys, no faggy twinks,
being openly affectionate, and in his station!! His cock was
tenting his khakis with a vengeance. Clay noticed the wet
spot at the tent, and chuckled as he winked at Dan. "I think
we've got an ally here, Danno! At least his anatomy is
understanding our special relationship, from the looks of
that bulge..."

Dan let out a hearty guffaw, staring at the cause of Mack's
embarrassment.  "Yeah, I think... our good friend here..." he
looked into Mack's chocolate eyes and licked his lips
catching a drop of drool there, "Mack, wasn't it...?"

"Yessir, that's right. It's Mack..." the incredulous young hunk
whispered as the bulge in his package swelled to new
dimensions.

"Yeah, Mack would join right in our conversation, given half
a chance, Clay! And be a welcome player, too!" Dan nailed
Mack's dark eyes and smiled. "This IS a friendly place, isn't
it, Big Mack?"

"I sure hope so, dudes. I've just come on staff here, so I'm
not sure just yet how much they'll let us get away with when
it comes to playing up to the customers, or with each
other...." Mack said softly, shifting nervously from one foot
to the other in a feeble attempt to rearrange his boxers,
"but I hope I don't get fired for throwing a boner at a
table, for God's sake. You guys aren't going to bust me to
the manager, are you?"

Clay reached up and pushed the sleeve of Mack's tee to stroke
the bulging bicep sporting that hot tattoo. "Relax, Mack,
you're safe here. And that tat is very nicely done!" He
squeezed the thick muscle. "You looking for somebody to take
you up on that dangerous streak you're advertising?"

Mack loved the feel of the man's thumb on his one badge of
his intentions. A new surge of juice flooded his crotch as he
flexed his rippling arm, making the skin dance. "I'm just
looking for good times, wherever I can find 'em, dudes!" His
long lashes barely hid the flash of passion in the big brown
eyes, but the genuine smile around them was easy. "You two
sure seem comfortable with yourselves, being open... I wish I
were so confident."

Dan chuckled, "It all depends on the company you keep, and
the bravery to say YES when you find your true friends." He
beamed at the blond across the table. "Very, very special
friends!"

Mack cleared his throat. "Okay, I got you covered! Be back in
a flash with those specials!" He turned and strode to the
monitor to punch up the orders, barely breathing. "Hey,
Manolito, pay good attention to the order on Booth Six for
me, okay?" he barked to the jefe running the lunch line.

Mack caught the gaze of the sleek Nicaraguan stud, whose eyes
narrowed into wry slits above the chiseled coppery
cheekbones. "For you, cabron, I make special sauce!" The
broad smile was lascivious, electric!

Mack bustled through his station, regaining his composure,
but always with an eye scanning the two handsome men in the
back booth. Thank God it was early, and the lunch crunch
hadn't hit yet, so he could pay them the attention they
deserved. 'Could I ever be so easy as they are?' he wondered.
'and not care less who knows it? Damn!' His dick threatened
to surge again.

The sandwiches came up in record time, and Mack snatched them
off the shelf, while silently rehearsing his best lines just
in case he needed a quick rejoinder. 'Wow! Manolito made
these plates worthy of a magazine layout!' he observed, as he
arrived at B-6 and heard the silver goatee guy say, "I've
always dreamed that Ann would understand. I think her visit
with Claire made a difference, hearing that your loving
Warren and Corey make it better for her." They were barely
touching fingertips again in a gentle tango.

"Voila, messieurs! Et bon appetit!" Mack sang, barely
containing his wonder at what he had heard. "Let me know if
you need anything else." He turned to beat a hasty retreat.

"Hey, Mack!" the blond purred clearly. "You'd bring me some
extra sauce if I asked you, right?"

Mack stopped, clinched, his khakis suddenly tented again,
dammit, but turned and chirped, "Anything for my new friends,
sir! You want both the thousand island and the cock cheese?"
He froze. "FUCK" escaped under his breath, as he radiated an
intense crimson, "uh, I mean ... uhh... goat cheese?" Mack
stammered.

Both Dan and Clay erupted with laughter. "See there. Danno?,
I TOLD you he was intact," Clay snorted, "or else he's got
the same preference I have! Why else would he use that
term?!"

Dan was bent double in glee. "You're so bad, Clay! You're the
only man I've ever known to bring a guy's foreskin into a
lunch conversation! But you still haven't won your bet that
he's intact. Just PLEASE don't drag him off to the restroom
to prove his religion, you horndawg! You'd get him fired. Not
until we've finished eating, at the very least!" Another
burst of guffaws echoed off the back section of the bar.

Mack joined them with a hearty laugh, rolling his eyes. 'This
feels pretty good! And safe....' he realized.

Clay recovered  first, and grabbed Mack's thick forearm.
"God, I'm so sorry, Mack! I wouldn't get you in trouble for
the world, and I think I've totally breached any semblance of
decorum here. Please forgive me!" His emerald eyes sparkled
pitifully. "You're so genuine and real, and we're having such
fun playing with each other, but I have no right to pull you
into our debauchery!" He read Mack's demurring to a client in
a heartbeat.  "I'm way out of line here, and I'm sorry."

Mack recovered his voice as he nailed Clay's emerald eyes.
"You'd win the bet." He shifted to his left foot, which
pooched out his ample package, the smoothly covered head
snaking to the right obviously.

Dan swallowed hard. "My wildest fantasy, uncut, thick, hard
and right here within reach! And YOU're to blame, Clay!" he
groused as he eyed Mack's tented pants closely, raising a
claw at the bulge so close, his fingers lewdly making a
clutching gesture.

Mack sighed playfully, "So I'm gonna get a big tip offa this
table, ya think, guys? If I make it to the end of the shift
without being arrested, that is...."

"Oh, without a doubt, stud!" Clay crooned with a wink.

Mack saw his moment of exit and fled. When he got back to the
kitchen, Manolo put up another order and rang the pick up
bell. He growled at Mack, standing at the line riveting his
dark eyes to the cute hunk, "Carajo! Por que dey don' have de
radar like you, cabron? Ni los bolitos tan llenos de jugo
rico como ti,  ni ese baton grandote  y mojado!" Manolo's
eyes raked up and down Mack's body as he spoke, pausing with
a sigh at the damp spot at his crotch.

Okay, did that hot Latino hunk of chef just call me a horny
goat with a hard-on? And my balls are full of hot juice?  And
he thinks I have a big, slick dick? "What was that,
Manolito?" Mack barked, afraid of the implication he read in
the jefe's eyes, hot and hungry.

"Don't worry, mi amigo, I don' gonna  say not'ing. You go
make de customers bery bery happy. I gonna tell to el Due–o
dey come back a causa de YOU, Torito fuerte!" He smiled and
winked at the flustered hunk.

Dan and Clay exchanged glances as they overheard the exchange
coming from the kitchen. "Damn, dude, I gotta brush up on my
'Spa–ol, because I think Mack just got majorly cruised by the
chef! I'm sure I understood 'big bull'!!" Clay admitted to
Danno, who was squirming in the banquette, grinning broadly.
"But not half as intently as that hot waiter was cruising
YOU, stud... I think we're going to get to be regulars in this
place, if you want to, bro. The service here - and the
scenery - is excellent!"

"Amen to that!" Dan chuckled. "Now if the rest of the day is
half as fun as this has been, I'm gonna start enjoying life
again!"


* * * * * *



As Dan finished the remainder of his beer and loosed a quiet
belch, he looked into the eyes of the man across the table,
eyes that looked to his very soul, laid him bare. Who was
this guy?  Less than a month... hell, barely two weeks...13
days ago this big blond hunk shook like a dog and gave Dan a
sweat shower in the gym,  and now they seemed like two halves
of a whole. Suddenly Dan found himself in an emotional
quandary. Today, a short hour ago, he'd been on the verge of
blowing Clay in a gym steam room.  Clay had sat up on the
ledge and straddled Dan's shoulders, his cock warm and loose
laying across Dan's neck. It had only required a turn the
head and the whole length was delicious.  The movement was
done without even realizing it, pausing at the root to inhale
the hot, sweaty "Clayscent" that was centered there.  When
they heard people outside, Dan panicked and started to
literally run from the room.  Clay had stopped him, wrapped
his arms around his new friend, calmed him, and made Dan know
that they were okay.

Dan started out of his reverie when Clay touched his hand on
the table.

"Hey Dan, where were you?" he inquired.

Clay smiled at Dan and instantly realized what he'd been
thinking about: certainly not his life with his wife and
kids. No, it was being so close to this handsome, hot man!
Dan could have no secrets from this guy!

What was it about Clay that so attracted the shy, quiet,
happily married daddy?  He was good looking, damn hot
actually, charming, witty, but that wasn't it.  As he smiled
and spoke so easily to the cute waiter they had bantered with
over lunch, Dan realized that it was comfort: Clay was
comfortable with himself. He was a self-professed bisexual
whose wife and friends knew it, and he was comfortable with
that.  What an amazing guy, what an amazing wife, and his men
- lovers! - Corey and Warren, and those special others!
Before Dan met Clay he didn't even admit that people like
himself really existed.  Now Dan wanted to acknowledge that
he was like them, one of them.  Could Ann ever accept her
husband being friends with these amazing guys?

The waiter stopped by to see if they needed anything else,
and when both said "No," he pulled his booklet tucked into
the woven black leather belt at his slim waist.  The waiter
was cute, tall and lean with a barbed wire tattoo around one
bulging bicep. As he pulled the check free, Dan reached over
and snatched it away from Clay before he could claim it. For
some reason waiters always gave Clay the check.

"This is on me, remember?" Dan said with playful menace in
his rich baritone.

"Oh yeah?" Clay challenged with a characteristic raised
eyebrow.

"Yeah," Dan replied, smiling " After all you've done for me,
our first lunch, that excellent cookout... this is the least I
can do."

"It's not a contest, you know." Looking him right in the eye
as Clay spoke, Dan knew he had to make sure it was understood
that he didn't need to "keep up with the Grants."

"I know, Clay, I really want to do this.  Getting to know you
these quick two weeks has put me on a new track in life. I
can openly say that I love you, not something that I've been
used to saying to another man. You've opened my eyes to how
my life might be, given me hope that I can grow into a better
person and bring my loved ones along with me." A sudden tear
spilled down Dan's cheek, which he abruptly brushed off. "I
don't understand it, and I sure can't explain it, but you've
nurtured a seed inside me, and it's starting to grow."

Not giving Clay time to respond, Dan laid the money for lunch
on the table, pushed his chair back, and got up. "Let's go. I
really need to get back to work."

In the parking lot, before climbing into the family mini-van,
Dan grasped Clay behind the neck with a meaty hand and looked
into his eyes. "What you said in the steam room was perfect.
You're so on target that it's scary... but I have to make the
call on any relationship we have.  I do love Ann and the kids
and don't want to mess that up.  Thank you so much for
knowing that about me and understanding."  That said he
pulled Clay into a hug, wrapping his arms around Clay's
muscular shoulders, his cock instantly starting to harden.
Pulling away, they confirmed that they'd meet in two days to
workout again before saying good-bye after another fierce,
warm hug, and Dan climbed into the van.

Two hours later, sitting at his desk having accomplished
nothing for the afternoon, Dan finally accepted what he'd
known was true from the moment that he met Clay.  He had to
sit down and talk to Ann, try to explain the feelings, the
needs, the wants, and do it all in a way that didn't have him
talking to lawyers.

Dan wheeled the van into the driveway of the neat tract house
that he and Ann had made their nest for the family, pleased
at what he saw. Comfortable, easy, a pain in the ass to
maintain, but the familiarity was worth the conversation in
his head.

Maybe... what if.... Ann truly understood?

Later that evening, after the kids were in bed, Dan spoke the
four words that strike fear into a spouse's heart,
"Sweetheart, can we talk?"  Ann gave him a questioning look
before motioning to follow her into the living room.

Sitting facing Ann on the couch, Dan breathed deeply before
launching into what he wanted to say.

"Ann, it's about Clay. Please don't think anything's wrong,
but we've really gotten to know each other these last weeks,
and I've found myself on the horns of a dilemma.  I told you
about my tendencies toward guys before we got married, and
we've been through the few videos and magazines that you've
found, but I have never been with a guy since jerking off
with friends when I was young." The look on Ann's face told
him that she did not like the subject of the conversation,
but he forged ahead anyway.

"I know that ever since we met, it's been hard for you to
accept that I love YOU, and not anyone else, and that fact
holds true today. I am in love with YOU!" Ann shifted on the
couch, her expression guarded. "Well, Clay has told me that
he is bisexual, Claire knows, and he has, with her knowledge,
had sex with guys.  He has told me that he's attracted to me
and I have to confess that I find myself pulled to him.  I
wish I could explain why. Not that I'm in love with him... but
even after just this short time I can say that I love him.
He's the brother I can be close to, tell anything to. It's
like he's my missing male part."

Ann had relaxed a bit but remained silent. Dan could see she
was still trying to process all she was hearing.  He wasn't
sure if he could make things any clearer or not, or if
continuing to talk would just muddy the waters more, so he
forged ahead to his closing statement.

"Ann, I want you to know that deep in my soul I know you're
my female companion, my love, and my life!  My friendship
with Clay can't diminish that, but I do want - no, I need -
to become a close friend with him.  That doesn't mean that
I'm going to be sneaking into bed with him. He told me last
time we talked that he respected the fact that I loved you
and that any relationship we had would be on my grounds.
Well, I want our relationship to continue, and I hope that we
can become better friends with him and Claire. I really like
them." Dan took a long, nervous breath.

Silence again greeted this last statement as Ann considered
what to say. Finally she spoke.

"I can't say that I'm thrilled with what you've told me, but
I think I knew it was coming.  I've seen you with Clay and on
days when you've worked out with him.  When you've been
around him you have a spring in your step, a smile, a 'glow'
if you will.  It's really worried me, but I've tried to
accept the fact that you need men friends beyond the family.
That still seems strange to me because my family didn't
operate that way. Family was the only thing there was. I
don't know if I can accept your closest male friend being
bisexual and knowing that he might want to have sex with you.
My first husband slept around on me..."

Dan jumped in right there, "Listen, my love, I know Paul
slept around on you, but I never have. I am not Paul! And
I've intended to be up front with you about who I am, right
from the start."

"I know, I know... but that kernel of doubt is always in my
mind"

"That's always bothered me... I know you've always had that
doubt. I've tried to bend over backwards to let you know I
love you but I've always felt that you could never quite
believe me completely."

"I guess I never have. I've always had that nagging worry
that someday some guy would come along and you'd drop me and
go."

Dan realized they had finally come to the meat of the
problem. She never actually admitted it, but he knew that the
doubt had always been there. It was palpable at times.

"Well, I'm here, Ann, and have been since the day we said 'I
do.' I don't know what else I can do to reassure you that I
love you. I've always tried to make you understand that
you're my number one.  I want to have Clay as a close friend.
I need that. I hope you can accept that I can do that without
anything sexual happening with him."

Ann was fighting tears, "I'll try, but I don't know just how
I'll feel about all this.  I am willing to consider what
you've said." She took a deep breath.  "I think I want to be
alone for a while."

Standing and pulling Ann to her feet Dan wrapped his strong
arms around her, "I understand. This may seem strange, but
that's all I can ask!" He nuzzled her soft neck. "I think
that you might like to talk to Claire again.  You two seemed
to hit it off really well at their cookout, and I know that
Clay has talked to her about me, so she might be able to at
least offer another perspective on things."

"We'll see..." she said as she turned and walked from the room.

As Dan watched her walk down the hall, he had the sinking
feeling that this hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped.  Dan
started to pick up the phone to call Clay but decided it was
too late to do that.

Dan roamed through the house on his customary final patrol
for the day. Dirty dishes called, then some laundry, and
before long it was time for sleep.  Ann was in bed working a
puzzle in one of her crossword books. She watched Dan as he
got ready, and he actually fluffed up a bit with her
watching, naked, tumescent, all for her.

"Is that for me?" she said softly with a slight smile.

"Yes, you know I love it when you watch me.  It's one of my
little thrills." Dan wagged himself back and forth at her and
she laughed.

"I'm still not sure how I feel about everything tonight..." she
said.

"I didn't expect you to be immediately comfortable with this,
sweetheart, but you're doing what I really need you to do.
You're thinking about a lot of things. You're not shutting
off letting me be who I am. What more can I ask for?"

As Dan climbed into bed, Ann gave him a kiss and then rolled
over so they were back to back. Since this was their usual
sleeping position and he'd gotten the kiss he needed, he
hoped that things were at least on a pretty even keel.  Dan's
racing mind was ablaze with thoughts, all conflicting and
highly emotional. Soon he heard her softly snoring long
before sleep came to him. What would the morning bring?



* * * * *


"So what do I do with all this?" Clay wondered aloud as he
watched the bustle of the streets of Adams Morgan below the
balcony.  The ice in the smoky Scotch made a musical clink
against the glass as he sipped it slowly, savoring the
richness of the afternoon.

A month ago, he was an unknown entity on an adventure with
his beloved, relocating to a new life in a new city, her
career on a rocket apogee with the heavyweights finally, him
being who he always had been: the medicine man, first officer
to the captain, the anchor, the consort who defined the queen
as infallible. Then life exploded into his opportunity to
make the difference only he himself could make, triggered by
a magic cadre of amazing men who came to him in an almost
bizarre succession of encounters. Yet, was it so weird? Was
it appropriate, this sequence of discoveries? Why else would
this month have unfolded the way it had? How could it have
evolved into such a bond with these people, these very
special men and women now in his circle, so easily, so
quickly, so unquestionably?

Clay picked up his cell phone and scanned down a few numbers,
then pressed "send." There were two rings, then the familiar
bass growled with characteristic playfulness, "Well, damn,
cubby, I didn't expect to hear from you tonight. I thought
you and the missus were going out to dinner before she headed
off to play Dances with Sheiks again."

"Oh, Guido's expecting us at La Colline for a late supper, if
she'll ever get home to relax from the ratrace, Corey," Clay
chuckled into the little blue Nokia, taking another sip of
the dark Talisker. "I'll give him your regards, for sure! But
she does have an early flight back to New York tomorrow. I'm
so glad this is the last marathon for a month or so. Claire
and I need to nest for a while... which is why I called,
Daddy."

"Cubbo, you don't need to say another thing," Corey crooned.
"Warren and I were just discussing how blessed we feel to
love you both and know that you we're all going to be pushing
boundaries, now that you two are in our lives forever. Your
conversation this afternoon cleared all those questions up,
you know...."

"I'm still processing it all, DaddyMan, loving Dan on his
timetable, loving all you guys as you are, and none of you
precluding me and Claire being whole. You're very special."

"Just remember, Clay, you're modeling something powerful and
real. Always tell us your truth!" Corey countered.

"I love you, my Lion, and I thank you for teaching me I can
be real. Life is rich!"


* * * * *


Now what? Perhaps the stories of Josh and his sculptor...
perhaps Scott's empowerment with Tony returning to his life
while he heals and grows with his wife and family... Warren's
realization of his own Lionship with Corey... Jack inviting
Evan to visit him in Florida... the District evolving into
neighborhoods of greatness... and certainly Miss Myrtle and
Zeus! Let me think and ponder and listen to how Clay wants to
express who he becomes....

Patrick