Date: Mon, 7 Jan 2002 00:37:46 EST
From: Keybedder@aol.com
Subject: "Running in the Rain"

RUNNING IN THE RAIN by K. Nitsua. Copyright 2001 by the author.

I'm still not quite sure how it happened. A year ago I was a happy man. I
had a good job at high-tech firm whose name you'd recognize, with
possibilities for advancement. I had a house in a nice neighborhood. I had
an SUV that I'd splurged a bit to buy, but that I was making steady
progress paying on. Most of all, I had a beautiful girl whom I loved. I was
even toying with the idea of popping the question.

I still have everything except the girl. But my life will never be the
same.

I guess I could blame the fact that I wanted to lose weight. I'd been
working very hard and been under a lot of pressure to produce. Not only did
I not have enough time to exercise, but my way of dealing with the stress
had been to eat.

Patti, my girlfriend, was too nice to say anything. I noticed, though, when
we went out to dinner, how she'd order a salad and a diet soda while I had
an appetizer, entree, and dessert, washed down with beer and coffee. She'd
always finish first and watch me eat.

I looked at her, with her honey-blond hair, brown eyes, flawless
complexion, and curves all in the right places. Then I took a good look at
me. It hit me that unless I got things under control fast I was going to
become a fat slob. Already all my clothes, especially my pants, felt too
tight. I also realized I was avoiding looking at myself in the full-length
mirror in my bedroom when I got dressed after a shower.

It's ironic , but Patti was my main motivation to get into shape. I wanted
to look good for her. So I bit the bullet and changed my eating habits. I
gave up the Egg McMuffins and hash browns in favor of instant oatmeal and
fresh fruit. I drank Slim-Fast for lunch and started eating sensible
dinners, as the commercials love to say.

Well, darned if it didn't work. I started to drop some pounds. Then it
really sank in. Thin and flabby was no better than fat and flabby. I was
going to have to work out as well as diet. Okay. I had a bench and a set of
free weights that I hadn't used since I was in college, dusty but intact.

I went to the local bookstore and bought a copy of Men's Health magazine,
after studying the bare-chested cover model. That guy looked great and I
wanted to look just like him. So I set to work, lifting, crunching,
grunting and groaning, three times a week. At first I almost quit, I was so
sore the next day. Little by little, I began to see results. My belly
stopped hanging out over my belt and became flat and firm. I doubled the
frequency of my ab workouts and to my delight, after a couple of months I
began to notice ridges on my stomach, and that got me really fired up. I'd
never had a six-pack even when I was younger. I took out several
subscriptions to exercise magazines, started popping creatine pills, bought
more equipment.

I got a real glow on one day when Patti snuggled up to me while we were
walking down the street and said, "I love walking with you. I see other
women look at you and me. I know they're wishing they could be me." I
kissed her and put my arm tighter around her.

There was just one thing. It was great that other women were checking me
out and that Patti was too secure to be jealous. I was kind of thrown,
though, when I noticed that other men occasionally seemed to be doing the
same thing. It hadn't occurred to me that I might attract the attention of
gays and I didn't appreciate it. When I mentioned this to Patti she told me
not to be so uptight. "Face it, you're a handsome guy, Sean darling," she
said. I decided I could live with a few unwanted stares.

I spent hours reading the magazines I got, studying the pictures of the
bodybuilders, trying to figure out how I could look more like them. They
were so cut, so defined, and they filled every inch of the skimpy workout
gear they wore. Little by little I realized I could wear that stuff too and
not look ridiculous. One day I bought an International Male catalog. At
home I turned the pages, looking at the models in the underwear and
swimwear sections. They looked so hot wearing just the bare minimum. I
thought about how it would feel to have only a thong or a posing strap on.
Suddenly I realized that I was breathing fast, my heart was thudding, and
my cock was halfway hard. A normal guy isn't supposed to think things like
that. I shut the magazine and was about to pitch it in the trash, but
something stopped me. I didn't look at it any more that evening, though. I
put it at the bottom of one of my desk drawers and went to work out.

Despite my new muscles, I still was having trouble keeping the pounds off,
and decided that I had to add regular aerobic workouts to my routine. There
was a high school in my neighborhood that had a new running track and I
started using it early in the morning before I went to work. Keeping this
up turned out to be really hard. I hated getting up in the morning,
especially with stiff legs from the last run. I struggled through a week or
so and was about to quit. Saturday of that week dawned cool and foggy. I'd
already decided to take Sunday off to give myself a break.

Usually this early I was alone on the track, but today there was another
man already running when I arrived. He was wearing a white T-shirt and
those shorts with the Texas flag pattern on the butt that look so stupid on
most guys. Not on this guy, though. Truth to tell, he could have worn a
burlap sack and still turned heads. Even from a distance I could tell he
had the kind of body that could have been featured in the exercise
mags. From the back his torso rose in a textbook V-shape from his small
waist, his butt just slightly wider beneath, supported by strong legs. His
calves bulged out as he ran. He had his fists lightly clenched at the ends
of two massive arms.

I stared as he came back around toward me. His features were chiseled, his
hair dark and wavy. His chest strained at the confines of his T-shirt. I
tried not to look too obviously, but I couldn't miss the healthy size of
the bulge in the front of his snugly fitting Texas-flag workout shorts.

To my surprise, the stranger raised one arm in a friendly wave and smiled,
showing a set of white teeth that positively glowed in the gray light.
"Morning," he called as he passed in front of me. I realized he was running
much faster than I had thought at first. He made it look easy.

I raised a hand in response and ducked my head, my cheeks burning. Why did
I suddenly feel like I was at my first dance or something? I quickly got on
the track and began my run, forgetting that I hadn't stretched or warmed
up. My muscles reminded me soon enough, though. I slowed my pace and
resigned myself to being lapped by the other guy on the track. This wasn't
a race, I reminded myself, but my male ego was still bruised.

Sure enough, the handsome man blew by me repeatedly as I doggedly did my
laps. Maybe the fifth or sixth time he came up behind me, though, I heard
his footfalls slow down, and then he was in step beside me.

"Mind if I join you for a bit?" he asked, smiling. After all that running
he didn't even sound particularly winded.

I shrugged, much as I could shrug while jogging. "Sure, if you like. I'm
not exactly going at your pace, am I?"

"I'm almost done. This is my cooldown."

"Aw heck, you sure know how to make a guy feel small." He was using me as
his post-workout pacer.

He laughed, and clapped me on the shoulder. "Don't mean to do that,
buddy. Cheer up. You just got started, right? Trust me, you'll get better."

I looked at him. Maybe it was just oxygen debt but his presence was making
me feel lightheaded. "Well, thanks for the vote of confidence." I stuck out
my hand at him. "The name's Sean. Sean Mathews."

His grip was firm. "Barry McDaniel. You live around here, Sean?"

We did several more laps, keeping a pace at which we could exchange a word
now and then. Barry lived only about a mile from my house. He worked for a
communications firm in town. Soon I had done my couple of miles. We
gradually slowed down until we were standing, panting, at the side of the
track.

"That was one long cooldown. Thanks for keeping me company. You didn't have
to do that."

"My pleasure absolutely," he said. "Much more fun to run with someone."

"Well," I said, "I'm not exactly on your level."

"You will be. Want to do it again?"

This took me by surprise. "Why would you want to? I'm a beginner compared
to you."

Barry shook his head, smiling. "Doesn't matter. We can run separately and
join up at the end, just like today. In a few weeks you'll be as fast as me
anyway."

"Well, okay, if you're sure I won't cramp your style."

"You won't."

At the parking lot near the track Barry stopped in front of his car and
shook my hand. "I usually don't come here this early on the weekend, but
I'm sure glad I did today." He smiled. His eyes were bright blue, very
different from Patti's warm brown ones. Suddenly I felt shy again. "See you
Monday morning," was all I could say.

So we met at the track on Monday, and on Tuesday. Tuesday night Patti and I
went out to dinner and then to her apartment afterward. Things got hot and
heavy and I ended up spending the night, which I hadn't planned on. The
next morning I had to rush to get back to my house and change before I went
to work. I thought of trying to contact Barry but I was running too late.

Thursday morning when I joined Barry at the track he said, "I missed you
yesterday."

"Sorry," I said. "I had a hot date."

"A date."

"Yeah." I told him about Patti, how long we had been going together and how
serious we were. When I was finished, I thought Barry might tell me about
his social life, but he was quiet. As a matter of fact, he didn't have much
to say about anything that morning. Probably I'd pissed him off by standing
him up the day before.

We walked to our cars, silence still hanging over us. I turned to
him. "Barry, sorry again about yesterday. There wasn't any way for me to
get a hold of you."

He looked thoughtful. "That's true. Let me get you my card. It has my cell
phone number on it."

He unlocked his front door and began rummaging in the glove compartment. I
couldn't help noticing how his sweaty shorts stuck to his rear, outlining
the cleft between his dimpled butt cheeks and the straps of the jock he
wore underneath. Searching for something else to look at, my eye fell on a
sticker he had on his rear bumper. It was a brightly colored rainbow flag.

Barry turned to me at that moment. "Here it is. Maybe you could give me
yours too--"

He stopped as he saw what I was looking at. A small smile appeared on his
face. "Do you still want this?" was all he said.

I looked at him. It all added up--the sticker. How he wouldn't talk about
his private life. And how great his body was. I had to think about this. It
seemed rude to refuse, so I said, "Sure," and took the card from him, not
meeting his eyes. "Listen, I'm late. Got to run, Barry." I hurried to get
into my own car.

"Sean?" I looked up. "See you tomorrow?"

"Sure," I said, then got in and started the engine. I was all the way to
the street before I expelled my breath in a long sigh.

After I got home from work that day, I thought some more about what had
happened that morning. Finally I picked up my own cell phone, fished the
card Barry had given me out of my wallet, and dialed his number. He
answered after a couple of rings.

"Barry, this is Sean," I said.

"How are you doing?" His voice was friendly, neutral.

"Fine. Listen," I said, then stopped. I had no idea what I was going to
say. I kept talking anyway.

"I just wanted to say--things are cool between us, right?"

"As far as I know. Why?"

"Well, I don't know." This wasn't going the way I expected, and I was
floundering.

"Oh, I get it. You were calling to see whether I'd fallen on my sword
because you'd discovered my dark secret. Is that it?" His voice was
amused. I got defensive.

"All I wanted to say was it's not a problem with me."

"And your telling me every detail of your hot night with your woman is not
a problem with me."

"Fine." We were silent for a moment.

"Sean?"

"What?"

"I'm just giving you a hard time. You're a nice guy. Thanks for calling."

"You're welcome." Somehow I felt good out of all proportion to the small
compliment he had given me.

"And cute besides. See you tomorrow," he laughed, and cut the connection
before I could say anything.

My face was burning. Why did he have this effect on me? I knew as I sat
there, though, that I wanted more than anything to be out there on the
track tomorrow, running beside him.

Things were fine after that. Barry encouraged me as I got into shape and
was able to keep up with him better. I was keeping up my weight training
program all this time as well, and felt really good about the way I looked.

The only problem in my life, oddly enough, was Patti. We usually got along
so well that she caught me by surprise when she complained.

"I never see you any more. You're either at work or working out," she said.

"That's not true," I started to say, then thought about it. I was doing the
weights pretty regularly every other day, and going running with Barry
every weekday morning before work and on Saturday as well. It was a
lot. But it was getting results. And I was doing it for her.

"And when we do get together, half the time you're falling asleep."

It was true that I'd caught myself yawning at dinner, because I'd gotten up
early that morning to run. I guess our sex life had fallen off a bit too. I
was thinking of bed these days as a place mainly to sleep. I had begged off
spending the night at Patti's once or twice because I was just so tired.

"Sean, you've got to change your routine," she said one evening. I'd had a
hard day and things had gotten kind of tense at dinner.

"You're so distant and preoccupied, and you won't tell me what's wrong."
Her lip was trembling. "I can't go on like this."

I sighed. "There's nothing wrong." I found myself wishing it were morning
and I was out on the track with Barry. My friendship with him seemed so
simple compared to the difficulties I was running into with Patti.

I tried to tell Barry about what was going on a few mornings later. We had
developed a routine where we would meet at the track, run on it for while,
then take off down some of the neighborhood streets. The surrounding area
was hilly and the changing terrain gave us a good challenge. By now I was
running with him the whole time, though I accused him of deliberately
slowing his pace so I could keep up. He denied it, smiling.

He ribbed me at first about "laying my heterosexual angst on him," as he
put it, then was philosophical.

"She'll come around. Maybe you should take a few days off working out, just
to smooth things over."

"But I don't want to. If I give in on this, she'll think she can run my
life. What is it with women anyway?"

"I wouldn't know." He grinned, then added, "Count your blessings. At least
you have a relationship to work on."

"So you don't have one? A relationship, I mean?" I asked, cautiously.

Barry turned his head and looked at me, and for a moment I thought I'd
overstepped my bounds. "No," he said, and it seemed that was going to be
the end of it.

We jogged in silence for a few minutes, then out of the blue he said, "He
died a few years ago."

"Oh." I figured I knew what that probably meant. Then I said something
really stupid. "Are you, like, all right?"

All of a sudden I was running alone. I looked back over my shoulder. Barry
had stopped abruptly at the side of the road, his hands on his hips. I
turned and jogged back to him, puzzled.

His eyes were steely with anger. "Yes, I'm all right. And even if I
weren't, you can't catch it just by running next to someone."

I stood, open-mouthed, then got mad myself. "I know that. I'm not stupid,
Barry, just because I'm straight."

He glared at me a minute longer, then dropped his eyes. "You're right. I'm
sorry, Sean."

By now my anger had dissipated, replaced by shame. "It's okay. I had no
right to ask you that. Call it a draw?" I stuck out my hand.

I was relieved when he smiled and shook it. "Sure." He didn't let go when I
expected him to. All of a sudden I was very conscious of his nearness, the
heat and the clean smell of his sweat coming from his powerful body. I
pulled my hand away.

"Maybe we should get back." I turned to go. For an instant I wasn't sure he
was coming back with me, then I heard his steps behind me catching up.

We jogged back to the track in silence.

That night I tossed and turned in my bed for hours, unable to fall
asleep. Finally I decided to help things along and jack off to relax. Lack
of sex with Patti was making me tense. I wasn't sure why I hadn't felt that
old charge with her lately. In one of our more heated recent quarrels she
had even accused me of being unfaithful, then immediately and tearfully
apologized. I took her in my arms and assured her of the truth--there was
no other woman.

I reached under my bed and took out the small bottle of lubricant I kept
there for just these occasions. I applied it to my cock and began the
familiar, comforting rhythm of stroking it, slowing down when I got too
aroused, wanting to make it last as long as I could. I tried to visualize
Patti naked above me, riding my cock as she did sometimes when she was in
an especially sensual mood.

I couldn't hold out long tonight--I was too horny. Soon my hand moved
faster and faster until with ragged gasps I shot hot spurts onto my heaving
belly. I lay there until my breathing returned to normal and the cum had
started to congeal, then I got up, wiped myself off and put on a pair of
shorts. I slipped back underneath the covers and closed my eyes.

Shooting my wad had relaxed my body, but a nagging little worry tugged at
my brain. As I'd rushed toward climax I'd thought about myself with Patti,
slamming into her soft body, hearing her cry out with ecstasy. As the
orgasm overtook me, though, the fantasy had suddenly vanished and other
images had come flooding into my mind. I'd seen Barry, raising the hem of
his soaked shirt as he wiped the sweat off his face after a run, giving me
a glimpse of his hairy, muscled midsection. Another time, doing one of his
stretches, he had bent over with his back to me, and the hem of his shorts
had ridden up enough for me to see the strip of white elastic crossing his
butt underneath.

It was images of Barry in my mind's eye that had pushed me over the edge,
drawing the hot cum out of me. It was a while yet before I finally fell
asleep.

It was early March when Patti informed me that she would be gone the
following week. Her younger sister would be on spring break from college
and they had planned a trip to Arizona together. I acted surprised and
hurt, but secretly I was relieved. Things hadn't improved between us and I
thought that we could use some time apart.

Barry called me at the office the Friday she left. I was glad to hear his
voice--despite our recent troubles, Patti and I were still very close and I
was missing her already.

"I'm a free man for a week," I told him. "Let's make tomorrow's run a bit
later--around eleven?"

"Sounds good to me," Barry replied. "It's supposed to be overcast, chance
of rain, so it shouldn't be too hot."

The next day dawned not only overcast, but downright threatening. When we
met at the track it looked like a storm was imminent.

About ten minutes before the end of our run our luck ran out. As we slowed
to our cooldown pace spots of water appeared on the pavement around us, and
I felt the drops on my head. In less than a minute the rain had turned into
a steady downpour.

I turned to Barry. "What should we do?"

He shook his head. "We're wet already. It's not lightning. Why don't we
just finish?"

"Might as well," I agreed.

So we kept going, and soon were both drenched to the skin. The air was warm
and as long as were moving we weren't going to get chilled. A strange
exhilaration took hold of me. It was fun, running in the rain with my
friend. Some feeling or memory tugged at my mind but I couldn't quite get
it to come into focus. I gave up after a while and concentrated on
running. Finally we came back around to my block and I had an idea.

"We're near my house. Why don't you come in and we'll wait the rest of this
out," I said to Barry.

"Thanks, that would be great."

"Let's go to the back door so we don't drip on the rug."

We headed up my driveway and around to the back of the house. I fumbled in
my wet shorts for my keys. Now that we had stopped moving I was getting
chilled, and my hands shook as I tried to unlock the door. Finally we got
in and stood in the middle of the kitchen floor, teeth chattering, jumping
up and down, trying without success to get warm as puddles of water formed
at our feet on the linoleum. An air-conditioned draft blew in an arctic
blast around us.

"Shit, I'm fucking freezing."

"The bathroom's down the hall to the left. Get in a hot shower," I told
Barry.

He looked at me. "You're shaking too. Want to join me?"

A fresh chill struck me at that moment and I shivered violently. "There
isn't room for two in there. I'll go in the upstairs bathroom. I'll bring
you something to put on. There should be a towel there. "

"Thanks." He disappeared down the hall, still dripping water. Now I had to
do something to get warm. There were extra towels in a linen closet
upstairs and I made a beeline for the stairs.

In the second-floor hallway I stripped off my soaking running clothes,
heedless of the mess I was making. I pulled out piles of towels, took the
largest one I could find and rubbed myself vigorously to get the
circulation going again. No matter how much I tried I couldn't seem to get
warm. My feet felt numb and my teeth chattered uncontrollably.

I knew the water heater in the house didn't have enough capacity to supply
both showers with enough hot water at the same time. If I tried to use the
shower in my own bathroom Barry's would get cold.

In a moment my feet were moving of their own accord down the stairs and
toward the bathroom on the first floor. I paused at the door, hearing the
sound of running water. I knocked loudly and walked in without waiting for
an answer.

The first-floor shower was a stand-up compartment, encased in frosted
glass. Barry's clothes and shoes were in a sodden heap on the floor. I saw
him huddled underneath the steamy spray. He looked up, startled, when I
banged on the door, and opened it.

"I... there isn't enough hot water for both showers," I began.

Barry took in the situation at once. "You're going to catch pneumonia. Get
in."

I swear I had no thoughts at that moment other than to get some warmth back
into my body. I threw off the towel around my waist, stepped in and let the
hot spray wash over me, throwing my head back and sighing as warmth began
to creep in and vanquish the chill.

After a while I had to look at him. The compartment was small, built for a
single person, and Barry stood only a foot or so away from me. I had never
seen him naked before. His shoulders were wide, his pectoral muscles
defined and symmetrical, topped with large, dark nipples and lightly furred
with hair, matted against his skin at the moment by the water. The hair
outlined the ridges on his stomach, and thickened as it descended toward
his crotch. My eyes followed the stream of rushing water down his body, to
the cut cock and dangling balls nestling in a thicket of dark hair,
impressive even in repose. I thought of what his cock might look like hard.

I saw a hand, Barry's hand, take hold of the genitals at which I was
staring. I raised my head and looked into my friend's smiling face. There
was no way I could pretend I'd been looking elsewhere. I started to
chatter, sounding ridiculous even to myself.

"Sorry to kick you out," I said. "I was just so cold."

He shook his head, still with that smile. "It's okay." I hoped he would get
out, but he didn't leave.

"Do you need to get under the water again? Are you still cold?"

He shook his head again. His steady gaze sent a wave of heat flooding
through my body that had nothing to do with the temperature of the
water. To my appalled surprise I felt myself getting hard.

"Poor Sean," Barry said softly, barely audible above the sound of the
rushing water. "Your teeth are still chattering," and with that he stepped
forward and put his arms around me.

"What are you doing?" I stiffened and tried to push him away, but not for
nothing was Barry built the way he was. He tightened his grip and I was
trapped. My arms were pinned against my sides and the shower was too small
for me to get any sort of leverage against his body. Besides, something
strange was happening. The more I struggled the harder my cock became. I
felt something else hard pressing against my stomach as well.

"Sean, Sean," Barry said, close to my ear. "Don't be scared. Let yourself
go. You know you want to."

The futile struggle, the heat of the rushing water, the hardness of his
body against mine--it all started to overwhelm me. Almost without willing
it I sagged against him. In response, Barry relaxed his grip just enough
for me to raise my arms. I felt my hands slide over his strong back and
suddenly we were locked in a fierce embrace.

"Sean," Barry said again. His hands roved over my wet skin, caressing, then
slipped between our bodies. I felt one hand grip my cock as he pressed his
mouth to mine. No, my brain said, and I resisted for a moment, shaking my
head back and forth, before I yielded. His tongue slipped in, not hesitant
like Patti's when we made out, but demanding and urgent. I kissed him back,
gripping his head as if to weld our mouths together.

We broke apart and Barry drew back, looking into my eyes. "You are so
gorgeous." His face disappeared from view as he quickly knelt. I looked
down just in time to see him grasp my cock and take it into his mouth.

Pleasure surged through me. I raised my head and let out a soft moan, which
turned into a startled cry as the stream pelting down on us abruptly turned
cold. The hot water had run out.

I turned and quickly twisted the knob to "off." Laughing and cursing, we
climbed out of the shower and took our towels, drying each other off,
deliberately being rough, grabbing each other's cocks and horsing
around. Suddenly I stopped. We fell silent, panting.

"What is it, Sean?"

I stood, trying to grasp the enormity of the step I was on the edge of
taking. I looked at my friend, naked, his hair damp, his expression
quizzical. He was the only one to whom I could appeal for guidance.

"What am I doing?" I asked him.

Through all that's happened, I've held on to what Barry said next, because
I think he meant it.

"You're doing what's right," he answered. When I stayed silent he raised a
hand slowly and touched my face. I kissed his palm. We didn't let go of
each other for the next couple of hours.

Try as I might, I can't forget that first time Barry and I made love. And I
don't feel funny using that phrase, because that's what it was.

At first I was carried away by the novelty--how strange it felt holding a
man's hard, muscular body in my arms instead of the yielding flesh of a
woman's. How different his chest looked from Patti's, with its two chiseled
slabs lightly furred with hair. I ran my hands over it, feeling leathery
skin and hard muscle instead of cupping smooth handfuls of female breast. I
traced the ridges on his stomach, down to the long, heavily veined pole
jutting from between his thighs, capped by a crown of darker flesh wet with
clear fluid. I hesitated before I took hold of it, which made him
chuckle. "It won't bite," he said.

 Somehow I had it in my mind that two men together would be rough and
uncaring, interested only in getting their rocks off. It wasn't that way at
all. Cumming seemed to be the last thing on Barry's mind. He took his time,
using his hands, his lips, his tongue to show me all the ways in which a
man could make another man feel good.

That's why even now his memory stays so clear in my mind. It was the almost
shocking contrast between the granite hardness of Barry's body and the
tender way in which he used it--the contrast between the sandpaper stubble
on his chin and the softness of his lips and tongue. I discovered that my
nipples were just as sensitive as Patti's when he took them in his
mouth. He licked and fondled them until I was writhing with delight, then
worked his way down to my hard, leaking cock. I had already felt his mouth
on it, but was totally unprepared for the way in which he teased the head
with his tongue, licking the precum from the opening, running his tongue
around the crown, then suddenly descending the shaft until his nose was
pressed against my pubes, engulfing me. Soon I was groaning helplessly
under his expert ministrations.

Patti had given me head, but I always felt she was doing it to please
me. Barry was doing it not only to please me, but also because he loved
what he was doing.

As if reading my mind, Barry ceased his labors momentarily, raised his head
and winked at me. "Can you tell I love your cock?"

My laugh was shaky. "Uh--I think so."

"So fucking hot." His eyes darkened with renewed lust. "Got any rubbers? I
want this thing up my ass."

Something in me recoiled at the thought of what he was suggesting, but his
consuming desire overrode my inhibitions. "I keep some in the nightstand,"
I said, pointing with my eyes. "The lube's under the bed."

Barry snickered. "For those sudden midnight urges, eh? Good man." In a
flash he had gathered the necessary equipment together and was carefully
rolling a condom over my cock. He stroked lube onto it, then reached behind
himself. When he was done he raised himself over my prone body, took hold
of my sheathed cock and guided it into the cleft behind his balls. I felt a
pressure that increased almost to the point of pain, then a sudden,
squeezing warmth. Barry's face contorted with momentary pain and he stopped
moving.

"You okay?" I asked him.

He nodded, managing a smile. After a moment he began to bend his knees,
lowering himself toward my body. I raised my head, watching my cock
disappear inside him. The sensation was indescribable--I'd never felt
anything like the velvety smooth pressure and heat that surrounded my
organ. I felt his butt pressing against my pubic bone and realized I was
all the way in.

I looked up at Barry's face. His eyes were closed, his mouth open, his
expression one of rapt ecstasy. Again I felt the shock of revelation. There
was no doubt he was enjoying this as much, if not more, than me. He leaned
forward, grabbing and stroking my chest with the palms of his hands as he
rocked back and forth.

"Fuck that's good," he said softly. I made some noise of assent. Barry
opened his eyes and smiled at me. He raised his body so that my cock
partially emerged, then brought himself down in one quick motion, taking it
all the way back in. Simultaneous grunts of pleasure came from both of us.

"You like that?"

Without waiting for my answer, he began to move his hips so that my cock
slid in and out of his rectum. One strong hand grabbed his own cock and
began to jack it as he used mine. Barry's asshole was far tighter than
anything my dick had ever been in before. Expertly he worked muscles
somewhere inside, squeezing and rubbing my pole until I was on the verge of
shooting. With that odd telepathy he had, Barry slowed his motions then,
opened his eyes and looked at me again.

"Not yet, buddy. Let's turn over."

I realized what he meant as he slid a hand under my back and urged me
up. He turned onto his back, taking me with him, until I was lying on top
of his body, my cock still inside him, his knees against his chest and his
calves hooked over my shoulders. Barry grinned mischievously, grabbed my
head and planted a quick kiss on my lips.

"Do your thing, straight boy. Fuck me."

I began to thrust, quickly increasing my pace until I was drilling his
hole. The harder I fucked him the more Barry egged me on, chanting a litany
of obscenities while he fisted his own leaking cock underneath my driving
body.

"C'mon, fucker, give it to me. Fuck that hole. Give me that hot load in my
man cunt. Fuck me. Fuck me."

"Gonna cum," I said through gritted teeth.

"Do it. Do it now, fucker."

"Oh, yes, oh yes, YES--" I lunged forward as if to split Barry in two as
the orgasm boiled up from my balls, shouting wordlessly at the top of my
lungs as I delivered what felt like a quart of cum through my cock into the
rubber inside him. Dimly I was aware of Barry shouting too, his hand moving
frantically between us, hot fluid spilling onto his stomach and matting the
already sweaty hair.

I clung to him like a drowning man in a hurricane. At last I started to
catch my breath and my body sagged down onto his, just as it had in the
shower. My head hit the pillow and I opened my eyes.

I lifted my upper body and looked down at him, then at myself. Here I was,
lying with a man bent double underneath me, my cock buried in his ass. My
body was sticky and fragrant with his sweat and cum. For quite a while my
body had been doing all the talking for me, but now my mind began to try
and take back control.

"You okay, Sean?"

Barry must have sensed something of what I was thinking, because he added,
"Don't think. Just feel. How do you feel?"

I closed my eyes and obeyed. After a while I opened them and said, "I
feel--good."

Barry smiled up at me. "So do I. Except my legs are cramping. Let me up,
will you?"

I got him some old shorts of mine to wear, but my shirts were not going to
fit him. Barry shrugged. "It's only a few blocks back to the track. Got
anything I could wear on my feet?"

The rain had stopped and we walked down damp streets, water dripping from
the leaves on the trees and the clean scent of storm-washed air around
us. Barry strode bare-chested next to me, an pair of my old sandals on his
feet, his wet clothes and shoes in a bundle under one arm. I cast a
sidelong glance at him. I had held this man in my arms, kissed him and made
love to him, possessed him as I had my girlfriend. It seemed unreal.

We stood by our respective cars at the track and chatted briefly, just as
if it had been any other day we had gone running.

"See you Monday morning?" he asked.

Involuntarily I hesitated. "Uh--can I call you? I need to check."

He shook his head and sighed. Something in his expression made me bridle.

"What?"

"Yeah, you do that." He turned and got into his car, leaving me standing
there, staring after him.

"You pissed me off. I didn't think you were going to call," Barry explained
a few days later. We were lying in my upstairs bedroom. The front that had
brought the rain the past weekend had passed, and the days had been
brilliant, the nights cool and clear.

"Well, I did."

"Yep, you did. I should've known you'd surprise me. You have from the
beginning, you know." He ran a hand over my stomach. I shivered at his
touch.

"Why?"

"I thought you'd be a much tougher nut to crack, if you'll pardon the
expression. Even though I could tell you wanted it."

"You could?"

He laughed. "Sure. Your eyes were all over me from the very first time we
saw each other at the track. Otherwise I wouldn't have said anything to
you. I don't usually go after straight guys. I was surprised as heck when
you said you had a girlfriend."

"Really?" I thought about what he had just said. Barry had picked up on
signals I hadn't even known I was sending. What did this say about my
relationship with Patti? For the moment I pushed those thoughts away.

"Really. Then, when I came on to you last weekend and you were so into
it. I figured you'd go on a big guilt trip after it was over and I'd never
see you again."

"I don't do that to people."

"Well, I'm sure glad you didn't do it to me. One taste of this baby
wouldn't have been enough." He took hold of my cock, which, despite having
shot a healthy load very recently began to stir again.

I sighed and stretched. "I'd never thought I'd say this, but I love the
taste of yours too."

He looked at me intently. "You ready for it tonight?"

I hesitated. Barry had made it clear that he wasn't just a "bottom"--a word
whose new meaning I had learned from him--but wanted to fuck me as well. At
first I couldn't even imagine a man's cock up my ass. But looking at him
take me into his body, his face when I was driving into him, hearing his
ecstatic cries when he came with my cock inside him--I had had to admit to
myself that I wanted to know what it felt like.

I said, "Yes."

Barry grinned. "Good man. First fluff me up." He had taught me that word as
well, and I set to work on his cock, relaxing my throat so I wouldn't choke
on its impressive length. Barry's sighs and murmurs of "that's good" told
me I was doing okay. Soon enough it was standing at its full length, hard
as steel. I got a condom and sheathed him, then lubricated both him and
me. Finally the moment of truth had arrived. I put my feet on either side
of his body and squatted down toward his cock, hanging on to one of
shoulders for balance.

Barry smiled encouragement. "Take it slow. I'll help you."

I felt the tip touch my hole and shivered. Gingerly I descended, my thighs
trembling with the strain of holding myself up, and felt my sphincter start
to give under the pressure. Suddenly it gave way and the head of his cock
slid in. I felt a sharp pain and cried out. I tried to rise up off of him,
but Barry had anticipated this and his hands gripped my hips firmly,
keeping me impaled on his rod. He shook his head, smiling.

"You're not getting away that easy. Just stay there."

"But--"

"Just stay there. Try to relax."

It wasn't easy to stay in that squatting position, and my legs were quickly
getting fatigued. Barry had counted on this. Soon there was nothing I could
do but give in and let my body slowly sink downward. To my utter surprise
there was no more pain, only warm fullness as his flesh penetrated deeper
into me. In a moment my full weight was down on him. I let out a sigh of
astonished delight.

"How's it feel?"

"Incredible," I gasped. He laughed.

"I thought you'd like it."

I moved my hips experimentally and drank in the new sensations that coursed
through my body. As I rode his dick Barry rose up off the bed and took me
into his arms, so that I was cradled in his lap. We kissed, slow and long.

"Oh Sean," Barry whispered in my ear. "You're so hot."

He pushed me down, changing our positions, until I was on my back on the
bed and he was above me. His eyes never left my face as he began to thrust
into me, at first slowly and gently, gradually fucking me harder and faster
until he was slamming into my body, drawing a grunt from my lungs at every
impact.

He took my cock and stroked it until it was rock-hard and ready to shoot
for the second time that evening, then kissed me again. That sent me over
the edge. My cries were muffled by his mouth clamped on mine as I shot my
load onto my stomach. I heard incoherent sounds emerge from his throat and
knew that he was cumming as well.

We finally broke apart, still gasping for air.

"Congratulations," Barry said. "You're no longer a virgin."

"What do you mean? I lost it a long time ago."

"Sean, think about it. Men can lose their virginity twice."

Somehow that struck me as funny and I started laughing helplessly. I
couldn't stop. Barry laughed too though I'm not sure he knew what the joke
was.

"For a straight guy, you're an awful lot of fun," he said.

Looking back, it's funny, but I never once felt any guilt during that
week. Of course I was kidding myself, but at that point I didn't even feel
as though I were cheating on Patti. After all, I wasn't with another woman.

I even had idle thoughts, absurd thoughts, that I could somehow make a life
with Patti and still see Barry too. I was living in a dream world that
week. I shouldn't have been surprised when it all came crashing down.

Patti had been pretty short with me before she left and I didn't know
exactly when she was coming back from her trip. As of Saturday night I
still hadn't heard anything from her. I figured she might call sometime
during the coming week. I told Barry to come over on Sunday morning, our
day off from running, and we'd go get some breakfast.

Promptly at ten o'clock I heard someone knocking at the kitchen door.

"Where's your car?" I asked him.

"Left it at the track and jogged over here. I actually just did a short
run. Feeling full of energy today." He took me in his arms and kissed
me. He was damp with perspiration, radiating body heat. It only took that
much for my body to respond and I pressed harder against him.

"Mmm, looks like I'm not the only one with a lot of energy this morning."
His hands were sliding underneath my shorts. "No underwear--I like that."
He knelt, pulled my erect cock out and took it in his mouth. I closed my
eyes and caressed his head. His hands squeezed my ass cheeks. He let go of
my cock and buried his face in my pubic hair.

"Damn, you get me so hot." He reached down and from somewhere in his shorts
he pulled a foil-wrapped object out and waved it up at me, waggling his
eyebrows playfully . "I brought this. Just in case you wanted to have a
quick one before breakfast."

"Want to go upstairs?" I was powerless to resist him.

He shook his head. "Turn around and bend over."

The stove was installed in an island in the middle of the kitchen. I braced
myself against it. Behind me rough hands pulled at my scanty clothing. The
sweat shorts I was wearing hit the floor and his hands pushed my t-shirt up
to my armpits. I heard him fumbling behind me with the condom wrapper,
tearing it open, quickly unrolling it onto himself and spitting onto it. I
wasn't sure how it was going to feel without any more lube than that but I
wanted him so badly at that moment it didn't matter.

I felt the blunt head of his cock at my back door, and before I knew it he
had shoved it open and entered me. My head snapped back and I screamed at
the burning pain--he wasn't being nearly as gentle as the first time. I
writhed, trying to get away, but he had me pinned against the counter with
his weight and his bodybuilder's arms.

"Shh," he whispered in my ear. "Don't fight it."

He thrust with his hips again and I let out a second agonized cry,
desperately trying to accommodate him. A warmth began to rise from deep
inside me and cut through the hurt. My protests subsided to short gasps and
I dropped my head, my senses overwhelmed by Barry's cock surging through
me, irresistible and unstoppable. At last I felt his body press up against
mine.

"That's it. Take it all, baby," Barry crooned behind me.

Still a bit peeved by his rough entry, I looked back at him and snapped,
"What choice do I have?"

At that he grinned and said, "None," slamming into me for emphasis and
drawing an "Oof!" of mixed pain and pleasure from me. There was more
pleasure than pain, though, and I bowed my head and gave in to his
conquering body as he began to fuck me at his leisure, drawing his cock out
slowly and thrusting it home, raising himself or bending his knees to plow
into me at different angles, finally settling into a steady, hammering
rhythm of lust. He grasped my cock and began to stroke it in rhythm with
his thrusts and I knew I couldn't hold out much longer. Sure enough, in a
minute guttural moans rose out of me at the same time as cum shot from my
cock held in his pumping hand and ran down the enameled cabinet doors in
thick splashes.

As I began to come back to earth I opened my eyes, which had been squeezed
tightly shut, and blinked until they came back into focus. Suddenly my
heart stopped.

Patti's face was staring in through the open kitchen window, her features a
mask of horror. As our eyes met she disappeared. I heard footsteps running
down the driveway.

"Jesus Christ!"

I wrenched myself off of Barry, pulled up my shorts and ran out the door
after her, calling her name. I caught up with her on the street, as she was
trying to unlock her car. To this day I don't know why she hadn't come up
the driveway in it, the way she usually did. Maybe it was fate.

"Patti, wait."

She turned, and I could see she was crying. She was holding a gift-wrapped
box in one hand.

"Get away from me."

"Patti, please."

"GET AWAY!" she shrieked, and threw her package at me. I dodged it, and
heard the crash of something shattering on the driveway. She got her car
door open, got in, and started the engine. A roar, a shriek of rubber on
pavement and she was gone.

I stood in the street looking after her, sick to my stomach. Finally I
turned back, picked up the box she had thrown at me and slowly opened
it. Inside were the shattered remains of a brightly colored piece of
crockery, some souvenir she'd brought back as a present for me from
wherever she'd been.

Footsteps sounded. Barry had come outside. He stood before me now,
disheveled and beautiful. The picture had no effect on me whatsoever. Funny
how things could turn completely around in an instant. It had happened
twice in a little over a week.

"I didn't know she was coming," he said.

I stared down at the ruined gift. "Neither did I, obviously."

"I'm sorry. Anything I can do?"

I shook my head.

"Guess I'd better go."

I didn't watch as he began to walk down the street, back to the track.

She wouldn't answer the phone when I called. Damn that Caller ID.

A week went by, then two. I had to see her and somehow make things
right. Suddenly the week with Barry seemed like a bad dream. I was a normal
guy, damn it, not one of those fags or queers. I had a good job and a
wonderful girl I was going to marry. The life I had planned was about to
slip out of my grasp and I couldn't let that happen.

I left my own job half an hour early, drove to her office building, and
waited in the parking lot for her to come out. I was hoping she'd be alone,
but when she did appear, she was with a guy, a sandy blond with a buzz cut,
dressed like a dweeb in a short-sleeved shirt with a necktie. That made me
mad. I stepped out of the car and walked rapidly toward them.

"Patti," I called. Patti had been smiling and chatting with her
companion. As soon as she caught sight of me she stopped in her tracks, and
her face darkened.

"Sean, what are you doing here?"

"Patti, could I talk to you?"

"She doesn't want to talk to you, bud, can't you see that?" her companion
said, his jaw rising. I ignored him and looked straight into her eyes.

"Patti, please. Just for a minute."

Something flickered in her face. She turned to her co-worker. "Mike, it's
okay."

"You sure?" he asked, still staring at me, unwilling to give in.

"Please, Mike, just go. I'll be fine."

He left, casting a baleful glance at me over his shoulder, and Patti faced
me.

"Well?"

"Can't we go somewhere?"

She shook her head. "This is as good a place as any."

"Then walk with me." Unwillingly she fell into step beside me as we started
down the sidewalk. There was a concrete bench at the first corner and Patti
sat on it, holding herself very straight and looking straight ahead.

I perched beside her. "Patti, let me explain."

She wheeled around to face me, her eyes blazing. "Explain? I know what I
saw, Sean. I'm not stupid."

I floundered. "I know, I know. I--Patti, all I can say is it will never
happen again. I promise."

She closed her eyes and sighed. Then she shook her head. "I wish I could
believe you. But--I don't."

"Why not, damn it? Why can't you believe it was just a stupid mistake?
He--that guy, he talked me into it. He forced me."

A ghost of a smile appeared on her face. "You? No one could force you into
anything, Sean." Her expression clouded again. "I was standing there for
quite a while before you saw me."

I felt sick. "Why didn't you say something?"

She shook her head violently. "I was too shocked. I opened my mouth and no
sound came out."

The image of her horrified face rose before me.

"I couldn't stop looking. I was looking at your face. Your expression. He
was--doing that to you and you were in heaven. I'd never seen you look like
that when we were making love. Not ever."

She stared ahead again. "I'm not--you know, prejudiced. I have gay and bi
friends. I think everyone should be free to live as they please. But, I
don't want a lover or--a husband--like that. I'm just not that
open-minded." She tried to smile as her eyes filled. "Call me
old-fashioned."

I sat silent. Patti rose, dabbing at her eyes.

"Goodbye, Sean."

Her footsteps receded into the distance.

As if things weren't bad enough, it had become clear that Barry was
avoiding me. He left me messages canceling our dates to run together,
saying he was sick. I kept getting his voice mail both at home and at the
office. One day, while I was on my way to run some errands, I saw him
coming toward me, jogging in the bike path along the other side of the
street. I raised my hand in greeting and honked my horn. I was sure our
eyes met, but he kept right on running without the slightest sign he'd
noticed me.

It was a month after the day Patti had walked in on us when he finally
called me at the office. "Sean, I'm sorry I've been out of touch. Can I
meet you somewhere after work?"

A few hours later we sat in a booth in a noisy, impersonal chain restaurant
along the highway.

"Sorry I haven't called," he said. He stared down at his beer.

"It's okay," I said, pretending a casualness I didn't feel. "I know you've
been busy. I'm glad you called."

"I have some news. You know the economy's been bad--well, the company's
eliminating my position."

"Tough luck, Barry," I said, really sympathetic. "If there's anything I can
do--"

"No," he cut me off. "Actually, it's not so bad. They have an opening in
their Dallas branch and they offered it to me. I'll have to take a pay cut
and they can't cover moving costs, but hey, it's a job. I accepted their
offer."

"Oh." I was stunned but tried to keep my cool. "So, that's too bad. No more
running in the rain, eh?" I tried to smile. "Dallas isn't that far. I can
come up on weekends, twice a month, at least--"

"Sean." His eyes met mine at last. "Look, I'm thinking in terms of us just
being friends from now on."

I gave up then and just sat, staring at him. Barry started explaining then,
which only made things worse.

"That day your girlfriend saw us--that weirded me out. I never meant for it
to go this far. It's just too much for me to deal with right now."

"There's no girlfriend any more, Barry. You think there would be after what
she saw? We're history."

"We both need space," he insisted. "We need to step back and take a deep
breath, think things out. Away from each other."

He was gazing steadily at me with that movie-idol face. The thought that he
might actually believe what he was saying was the only thing that kept me
from throwing my Diet Coke at him.

"Well, fine." I rose. "Thanks for having the guts to say it to my face." I
tossed a couple of bills on the table and turned to go, just like in the
movies. I'd always wanted to do that.

"Sean." I looked back. "I'll call you once I get settled, okay?"

"I won't hold my breath." I left before he could answer, pushed open the
door and strode rapidly to my car in the parking lot. Something was wrong,
though--my key wouldn't go in the front door lock. I was cursing under my
breath before I looked in the window and saw a pack of cigarettes on the
front seat. I didn't smoke. This wasn't my car.

I stood there, willing myself not to look up to check whether Barry had
seen the conclusion of my grand exit.

It was a couple of months later. Barry hadn't called, not that I had
thought he would. I was flipping through the Sunday paper at home and
caught a glimpse of a familiar face in a photograph. I stopped and turned
back until I found the picture in the Society section. Sure enough, it was
Patti, pretty as ever, with a man who seemed familiar. They looked relaxed
and happy. The paragraph below announced the engagement of Patricia
Richards and Michael Fulton. I remembered Patti's co-worker in the parking
lot that day after work. It was him.

I worked up the nerve to call her one last time a few days after I saw the
announcement. My hand was trembling as I held the receiver. Let it be her
machine, I thought. I could leave a casual congratulations and have done
with it.

"Hello?" Patti's voice said.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

"Hello? Sean?"

"Patti," I finally managed.

"Hi, Sean," she said. I could read nothing in her tone.

"How did you know it was me?"

"Caller ID."

"Well, I'm surprised you answered, then." She didn't respond to my weak
attempt at a joke, so I hurried on. "Listen, I won't keep you long. Just
wanted to say congratulations on your engagement. I'm sure Mike's a
wonderful guy."

A pause, then she said, "Well, thank you, Sean. It's nice of you to call. I
mean that."

She didn't say anything about inviting me to the wedding. Had I expected
her to? Somehow I had to say something else before I let her go.

"Patti." A lump rose in my throat and I had to struggle to get the words
out. "I also wanted to say... I'm sorry." Silence at the other end. "Sorry
for what I put you through. You didn't deserve it."

"Sean," she finally said. "Could I ask you something?" Her voice was
shaking now, no doubt about it.

"What?"

"This... thing." She couldn't bring herself to use the word. "With the
other man. It just happened, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"It... it wasn't going on all the time we were together?"

"No," I said as firmly as I could. "I would never have done that to you,
Patti. You've got to believe me."

"Okay," she said, her voice a little brighter. A pause. "Are you, like,
going with guys now?"

Something lurched in my chest, and I realized that I was on the verge of
tears. "I--don't know, Patti. I don't know anything. Except that I'm alone
and I'd give anything to be with you again." I knew it was hopeless but I
had to say it.

Silence at the other end, then, "Sean?"

"Yes?" I could barely get the word out.

"I think about you a lot. I want you to be happy."

This was too much. I choked out, "Bye," and hung up the phone before I lost
it.

I wasn't telling Patti the truth, or not the whole truth, at any rate. I
did miss her terribly--her eyes, her laugh, her willingness to listen, her
warm, fragrant presence when we were in the car or at the movies. But late
at night, alone in my bed, it wasn't her body I wanted next to mine. It was
a hard male chest I felt pressing down on me in my dreams, rough stubble
raking across my cheeks as lips pressed against mine and an urgent tongue
darted into my mouth. I saw Barry's steely blue eyes boring into me as he
drove his cock into me, splitting my body and soul wide open.

Once I awoke in the middle of the night, crying out, to find that my body
and the sheets were covered with sticky, cooling fluid. In my dream Barry
and I hadn't even been fucking, just running around the track at the high
school on a cool and cloudy morning, good buddies out for a run, happy and
carefree. I lay, staring into the dark emptiness of my bedroom. Finally I
rose to clean up the mess.

The summer days passed slowly by. One day I came home after getting a quick
dinner at the barbecue place near my house. It had been cloudy and humid
all day, and as it grew dark the clouds became more threatening.

Sitting in a chair in my office, I paged through the messages on my
answering machine, hardly listening to most of them. The last one
started. I recognized the voice and sat up, alert.

"Sean, it's Barry. Sorry I haven't called. Seems like I'm always
apologizing." A short, embarrassed laugh. "Anyway, things are going okay
but--I miss you. Call me back if you feel like it."

He said his number. I slumped back down in my chair as the computerized
voice from the machine informed me there were no more messages.

As I sat watching TV a bit later, I saw the flash of lightning outside my
window and heard the rumble of thunder. In a moment the patter of rain
sounded on my roof and quickly increased to the steady drumming of a
massive downpour. Minutes passed and the deluge showed no sign of abating.

I was alone and the only light in my house was from the TV. Impulsively I
turned it off. Now I was surrounded by darkness and the sound of the rain,
punctuated now and then by the abrupt glare of a lightning strike and the
deep, rolling rumble of thunder. "The gods are bowling in heaven," my
father used to joke.

I went to the back door and opened it. A cool, moist breeze struck me in
the face, the smell of fresh dirt and the peculiar odor of storm-charged
air wafting into my nostrils. Rain was falling in steady rivulets off the
awning. I unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it over my head, then pulled off
the rest of my clothes and my shoes. When I was naked I stepped out onto
the wooden deck. It was dark and no one was going to see me. I raised my
head and opened my mouth, letting the rainwater pelt my face and run over
my body.

Suddenly a memory rose unbidden in my brain. It was a broiling hot summer
day when I was a boy of eight or so, playing with my best friend Russ in
the back yard of my family house in a small town in West Texas, running
through the sprinkler that my father had thoughtfully set up for us. My
parents had gone off on some errand, warning us to stay in the
yard. Obsessed as we were with our activities, we didn't notice the
cloudburst coming until the first crack of thunder sounded loud above our
heads. Then the rain began to fall in large, heavy drops.

I started for the house, but Russ said, "Why are you going in?"

"We're going to get wet," I started to say, then realized how silly that
was, even before Russ laughed. Then a mischievous grin spread across his
face. Even as a little boy I thought him handsome.

"Let's play a new game," he said. "Greek Olympic runner."

"How do you play that?" I asked, puzzled.

"Well," Russ replied, "You have to take off your bathing suit."

"Why?" I said, sensing danger.

"`Cause, stupid, the ancient Greeks ran without anything on when they
raced. Don't you know anything?" He added, placatingly, "Don't worry. I'm
going to do it too."

This piqued my interest. "Okay," I said. "You first."

"No, you," he said immediately. "Okay then, let's strip together. First one
to touch the back fence wins. Ready, set, go!"

Before I lost my nerve I quickly pulled down my suit and pulled it off. The
rain was pouring down around us and the sprinkler, ridiculously, was still
going. Russ peeled his trunks down and flung them high into the air,
letting out a whoop as he began to dash across the yard. I pursued him,
feeling the rush of air between my legs, reveling in the glorious freedom
of running naked, watching Russ's butt muscles pumping as he ran toward the
fence, the water pelting down on us both. We might have been struck by
lightning in that instant but I wouldn't have cared.

As I stood there in the dark, that day from my childhood faded and blended
seamlessly into a much more recent memory, the Saturday afternoon early
that spring when Barry and I had come back to my house laughing, out of
breath and soaked to the skin. I thought of how every cord of muscle in his
back had been visible through the soaked cotton of his T-shirt, how the
fabric of his shorts had clung to his buttocks. We had gone inside to dry
off, and then my life had turned upside down.

My hands clenched into fists. By now I was trembling violently with cold
and my teeth were chattering, but I took no notice, aware only of the hot
pain inside me that threatened to burst my chest. Tears started out of the
corners of my tightly closed eyes, running down my cheeks and momentarily
warming the skin on my face.

I dropped my head forward, my body collapsed and I sank to the deck, the
wet wood icy against my forearms and knees. A sob escaped me, then
another. After the third I opened my mouth in a wail as a storm of grief
shook my body. The indifferent rain continued to fall, and another rumble
of thunder shook the earth. No one saw me in my cold misery. No one heard
me crying.

END