Date: Tue, 23 Mar 2010 20:15:47 -0700 (PDT)
From: Peder Pederson <pederdagreat@yahoo.com>
Subject: To Need or to Want -- Chapter 3

Chapter Three
Over My Head


	Christmas had passed. I had finished my thesis and it had been
accepted. I now had my degree, but now what? With two degrees in political
science, I could either go into law or get some kind of cushy job with the
government. Both options did not appeal to me. As a matter of fact, they
turned my stomach. I could go on and get my Ph.D. and go into teaching
. . . the lesser of the evils.
	Got a call from my thesis advisor.
	"Jim, I've heard of a job. Something you might like."
	"Great! What is it?"
	As it turned out I'd be a political analyst for an international
firm based in Chicago.
	"It's not CIA, is it?"
	Laughing, he said, "No it's quite legitimate."
	He knew my likes and dislikes. I was interviewed and was offered
the position, accepted it and moved to Chicago.

____________

	My life need a change. As big as Columbus was, it still held too
many memories that widened the void of Khalid's leaving. The attachment
that had developed did not have the depth and breadth that years of being
together might have had, but I was aware of the emptiness that his
departure left in me. With Khalid, I realized that I was the type of sexual
being that thrived, maybe even needed someone. At Weston, my sexual needs
were met by the anonymous glory hole. Besides, The friendship that had
developed between Bob and I had filled amply that other part of being.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

	I wasn't too familiar with Chicago and one evening, a month after I
moved there, I was driving home and I stopped for a drink at a corner bar
on Halstead, The Forge. The weather turned unseasonably mild as it does
from time to time in the winter.  I left my jacket in the car and walked
in. It was dusk and the bar wasn't too full. I ordered a beer and glanced
around. It was a typical neighborhood bar, at least it appeared to be. At
the back was the usual door leading to the bathrooms and one with a sign
over it announcing "Patio." I picked up my beer and walked out onto the
patio. It was not too big, surrounded by a high board fence It had a large
tree in the center, shading the whole space, no tables and no chairs.
	There were three other guys out on the patio. Two were in the deep
shadows, in a corner. I could only make out their general form in the
half-light. After my eyes adjusted to the light I was astounded to see that
one suddenly sank to his knees as the other guy opened his fly and took out
his semi-hard cock. The kneeling gobbled it into his mouth and started the
normal bobbing on and off.
	I was mesmerized! Staring, wide eyed into that dark corner, I
didn't see the other guy move to my side. Suddenly I was being groped. My
head whipped to the right into the glazed eyes of this guy. He smiled and
massaged by cock which had risen to its hard peak while I was watching the
corner sport.
	"Damn! You got a nice one!" he murmured.
	I wanted to move away, but his hand felt too good to evacuate the
patio. It had been such a long time since I had achieved any release except
through jacking off. So, I just stood there, passively and revelled in the
magic his hand was working on my imprisoned cock. Moving to my belt, his
dexterity amazed me as he quickly had my fly open, his hand dove into my
briefs and hauled out my rigid cock.
	"Oh! Man! Is that nice!" He commented, bent over and swallowed my
whole hard cock!
	"Ahhhh!" I gasped.
	This guy was a master cocksucker. He knew what he was doing and he
did it with élan! I felt his throat muscles massage my cock head. Some
guys say that `deep throating' is not what it's cracked up to be. DON'T
BELIEVE THEM! It's awesome, spectacularly sensual, undeniably luxurious! In
a short time, I was trembling all over.
	Just then, two guys came from the bar into the patio. I panicked
and quickly withdrew my cock from the guy's mouth, stuffed it back into my
pants, zipped up, went back into the bar and quickly left. I have never
been in a situation of what might be categorized as public sex, and
certainly was not an exhibitionist.

____________

	A couple of days later I was in the john at work when this guy
walked in and took the urinal two down from me. I recognized him. He was in
the accounting department and not too far from the office where I worked.
	"Hey! How ya doin?" he asked.
	"Fine," I answered, and added, "And you?"
	Smiling, he answered, "OK!"
	And, I went to the sink to wash my hands. He did the same thing.
	"You're the new political analyst . Right?"
	"Yeah,"
	"I'm Pete, Pete La Tour, accounting" he said offering me his hand.
	"Jim Adams," I answered, shaking his hand and added, "So you're one
of those number guys?"
	"Yep."
	After that inauspicious introduction we ran into each other often,
that week, usually had our coffee together, generally ate lunch together in
the company's cafeteria and just chatted. Pete, it turned out, was from
Louisiana. Who wouldn't be with a name like La Tour? His family was much
like mine, solid middle class, two siblings and he went to school at Loyola
before taking the position in Chicago. Within a week, we had developed a
tentative friendship.
	As we sat eating our lunch the next Wednesday, Pete asked, "Are you
busy Friday night."
	"Nope! My social calendar is woefully empty,"
	"Good. How about we have dinner together?"
	"Sounds good to me. What time?"
	"Sevenish?"
	"OK," and I added, "But, let's make it Dutch?"
	"Fine," and he added, "What kind of food do you like?"
	"I'm open to anything . . . you pick the place."
	Pete had been in Chicago nearly a year, so he was more familiar
with the places to go than I was. We met and ate at a wonderful, small,
neighborhood Italian restaurant called the "da Vinci." I choose linguini
Carbonara, which was delicious, a wonderful salad, a bottle of wine and
creme caramel for dessert. Our conversation was animated and relaxed in
that ambiance.
	"How would you like to stop by my place for a night cap? It's not
far from here,"
	"Sure," I said, and I followed him to his apartment house.
	Pete's apartment was a comfortable one bedroom apartment with an
ample living room and a pullman kitchen.
	"How about a B&B?"
	"Yeah! That sounds great."
	As he went to get the drinks, I perused his book shelf . . . just
the normal collection of classics and a couple of dozen DVD's. Most of the
DVD's were popular movies and then I pulled out one that caught my
attention: a DVD of Jeff Stryker pictured on the cover with an absolutely
enormous cock lolling out of his fly! That caught my eye. Pete walked up
with the snifters and saw what I was looking at.
	"See you picked out the best of the lot!"
	"Well, he certainly has a lot to recommend him!" I said with a
chuckle.
	I took a sip of the amber liquid and replaced the DVD and turned
nearly running into Pete who was standing behind me. Smiling, he reached
out and cupped my basket. I was a bit taken back at this hasty approach,
not that I mind being fondled. But I was a bit taken back.
	"You've got a lot to recommend you too!" he said with a smirk.
	"How would you know?" I said with a wry smile and stepped back
freeing my swelling cock from his warm cupping.
	"Well, it appeared substantial . . . at least what I could see of
it at The Forge," he admitted with a grin.
	I was taken back a bit. "You were at The Forge . . . that
. . . night?"
	Smiling, "Yeah."
	"Where?"
	"In the patio."
	"In that dark corner?" I asked.
	"Yep."
	"Were you standing or kneeling?"
	"Standing," he admitted, then stepped up to me again and fondled my
nearly hard cock, "But I'll gladly kneel for this!"
	I just stood there while he unzipped my fly and lowered my pants
and briefs. My hard cock sprang out and he grabbed it and fondled it some
more.
	"Ahhhh!"
	What transpired then can only be described as awesome. I was left
weak kneed and trembling all over.
	I was surprised, pleasantly so by what transpired. Maybe it was the
unexpected, unsolicited attention he paid to me there on his knees.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

	The next few months after what happened subsequent to the first
dinner with Pete at da Vinci's can only be described as a most sybaritic,
hedonistic, carnal period in my life. My brief relationship with Khalid
developed into an attachment that may be characterized as love. Even though
the "L" word was never spoken, never admitted by the time he left, it was
there, nonetheless. Of course, Khalid's and my relationship was passionate,
erotic and sensual but it had a dimension of emotional connection spring
from my romantic side.
	With Pete, the connection was purely physical, at least on his
part. I know that now.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

	Pete and I got together every weekend. His ability, his technique
in bed was phenomenal! He would edge me until I was reduced to a gasping,
begging mass of eroticized muscles and nerve endings. Then his actions
would propel me over the edge into the abyss of screaming, lascivious agony
and release. I was always left breathless and totally sated. I must say
that he seemed eminently satisfied with my performance as well.
	A couple of weeks after the da Vinci episode, we found ourselves in
my apartment, naked, eroticized and on my bed. I was on my back and Pete
was between my legs with my cock in his mouth doing what he did best. He
grasped my knees and pushed them up to my chest. My throbbing cock was
still deep in his throat. Then he pulled out with a wet pop. I felt his
tongue trailing down between my balls, over that most sensitive spot just
behind my orbs and back and forth over my sensitive bud. That sent me into
unknown, unexplored realms of erotic delight. As I flew into sensual orbit
I spread my thighs, subconsciously as if to give him unimpeded access to my
sphinctered gate.
	"Ahhhh! Gawd," I groaned and torques my body!
	I could feel his thumbs bracketing my tight bud and pulling it
open. His tongue plunged in and I gasped and my body convulsed. He kept up
this most lascivious tonguing for several minutes. My head whipped back and
forth from that sensual assault.
	"Oh! Yeah! Oh, yeah!"
	Deep in my primordial psyche, I wanted more. But, more of what? I
did not consciously know what I yearned for at the time!
	I was aware that Pete had reached for the K-Y which was always
close at hand and squeezed a dollop onto my spasming bud. A finger
carefully invaded my love channel. I was a bit surprised `cause I felt no
pain, no discomfort, only a delicious fulfillment of my primal wish. His
mouth returned to besieging my quaking cock as his finger entered deep into
my gut.
	"Ahhhh! GAWD!" exploded from deep in me.
	There I lay, my cock deep in Pete's throat and his finger entering
and retreating from my sensitized hole. Being sucked and finger-fucked at
the same time was an experience I had never before experienced and/or
enjoyed. And, enjoy it, I truly did! I squirmed under the onslaught. Then I
perceived a second finger taking its place beside the first one. Again,
there was little discomfort, only an exponential increase in the pleasure
the first finger provided.
	"Oh, my Gawd!" I groaned and rose up to meet the challenge.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

	I know that I am a romantic, incurably so, and a sensualist, also
incurably so. I know realize that there is nothing inherently wrong or
negative regarding these conditions either separately or combined. However,
I also feel that when they are combined without conscious thought or
consideration, without a thorough and complete inventory from time to time,
certain unfortunate circumstances may occur. In some cases a sensual or
erotic addiction could arise that may leave the individual bereft of the
ability to make any meaningful connection or relationship. Or they may
block any logical consideration and lead to some devastating situations or
conditions.
	I know that I bordered on an addiction to the glory hole and the
release I experienced when I was at Weston. But, then I was a neophyte to
having my cock sucked and deeply closeted at the time. I remember
questioning myself, "Why am I coming here so much?" But the wondrous
release I always received precluded any further personal/emotional inquiry
and my possible addiction ceased upon my graduation.
	Certainly, my association with Khalid bordered on a thoroughly
natural, mutually beneficial, even commonplace need of a normal
relationship. Our desires were complimentary. They dovetailed perfectly.

____________

	I guess I realized where this physical/sensual preparation was
leading. But, I had been manipulated to such a level that I cared not. As a
matter of fact my desire level almost demanded satisfaction. In and out his
fingers plunged and scissored within me, stretching me as he ably sucked my
throbbing cock. I thrashed under his most able ministration.
	Then, incredibly Pete added a third finger.
	"Ahhhh!" I groaned, part from pleasure and part of the further and
slightly uncomfortable violation. For long minutes he slid his lubed
fingers in and out of my relaxing, sphinctered gate, turning them as he did
so. I was becoming so eroticized that I was in the realm of superheated,
lascivious pleasure.
	Pete pulled off my wet cock, sat back, but continued his three
fingered dance in my ass.
	"I'm going to fuck you!" he announced quietly. He knew that I had
never been fucked in the ass before. The first few times we bedded, he had
wanted to fuck me, but I deferred. Partly out of fear of pain and partly
because of the dimensions of his substantial tool. But this time, I simply
didn't care. As a matter of fact, subconsciously, I invited the experience.
	"Mmmm," was all I was consciously able to say.
	I watched as he slathered K-Y over his cock and crabbed up to my
exposed, quaking and relaxed hole. He lifted my ankles to his shoulders,
positioned his cock head at my quivering, spasming sphincter and slowly
pushed in. His cock head POPPED in.
	"Ahhhh!" I gasped as my, to then, virgin hole was stretched to
accommodate his substantial helmeted, cock head.
	Happily he held his position `til I became accustomed to his
opulent muscle's invasion, violation of my virgin hole. Pete was not an
inconsiderate lover. He knew that this was my first time, and he proceeded
with caution and consideration. After a minute, he inserted a bit more of
his length, and again held his position. Finally, after a time, he was
able, to sink the whole length of his turgid cock in me.
	"You all right?" he inquired.
	"Yeah," I answered breathlessly.
	"You feel OK?"
	"I feel stuffed," I admitted.
	"Not unusual for the first time or two," he answered with a smile.
	Then ever so slowly, Pete drew out partially and then slowly
reinserted his cock deep into me being.
	"Ahhhh!"
	For long minutes he continued that gentle fucking motion
. . . slowly out . . . slowly in . . . slowly out . . . slowly in . . . he
established a rhythm. I had become thoroughly accustomed to the intrusion
of his substantial cock in my ass. There was no pain and any initial
discomfort which was dissipated only to be replaced by the warm pleasure of
his presence in me.
	"You like this?"
	"Oh! Yes! It feels so good," I admitted.
	Then and only then Pete began to speed up the tempo of his
thrusting as he sunk his rampant dick deep into me. Soon he was plunging,
probing deep into me and his speed brought uncompromising gasps of
pleasure.
	"Yes! Oh! Yes!" I urged him on.
	I could tell that he was nearing his orgasm as he threw back his
head, his eyes rolled back and he began to heedlessly piston my ass like a
jack hammer or the driver of a great, runaway, steam locomotive. Finally,
he bellowed like a raging bull. Deep, and guttural his primordial cry of
release filled the room.
	"ARGGHHH! AHHHH! Ahhhh!"
	I felt his great cock expand as he drove it deep into my velvet
channel, quiver, spasm and convulse, shooting his hot cum deep in my gut in
great, lust driven gouts of his lustral, creamy man juice.
	"Oh, Geese," I exclaimed, breathless.
	Slowly Pete withdrew and I thought for all the world that I was
defecating. It was only after I lowered my legs and returned to the real
world that I felt a certain tenderness, a soreness in my nether region.
	But, Pete was responsible for deflowering me, and, I must admit, in
a most gentle, almost tender manner. I would never forget that. All the
stories I had read about getting ass fuck the first time seemed to
emphasize the searing pain upon the initial penetration. I had none of
this. But, I must admit, I was sore, tender for days after that monumental
session. I guess that's to be expected.

____________

	I had progressed in my personal sexual development from those first
days at Weston where I had been introduced to the joys of the glory hole
and oral sex, anonymous as it was. My association, my relationship with
Khalid had expanded my horizons to appreciate, even yearn for the sucking
of another man's cock, something in my youth I would never have
anticipated. Yet, I grew to enjoy even crave the feel of Khalid's hard,
velvety warmth sliding past by lips. And, the first time I slipped by cock
into the tight, velvety warmth of his love tunnel, I thought I had achieved
Nirvana, or, at least something close to it. Then, there was Pete's
impressive cock sliding in and out of my sphinctered gate. The first two or
three times, I experienced various levels of delight. But the fourth time,
some weeks after my initial introduction, I achieved a level of lascivious,
sensual enjoyment I never thought possible. I had reached a spontaneous
orgasm as his
 momentous cock head again and again caressed, stimulated my G-spot! I
began to associate that kind of warm, luxurious orgasms with Pete's cock
pounding my ass.
	It soon grew to the point that I craved our couplings more than
just on the weekends. The sight of his naked body, his muscular ass and his
substantial cock and balls never failed to cause my own cock to swell to
its needful height and my mouth to hunger for his hard, warm obelisk. My
tight bud also developed a quivering, a hankering to feel his
penetration. I had developed into the kind of sexual, erotic, sexual animal
I never could have imagined.

____________

	One particularly athletic joining, on a Wednesday night, left us
both breathless, sweat drenched and fulfilled.
	"Gawd! What you do to me," Pete said as we lay in bed, limply.
	"What I do to you! Look who's talking!"
	"I'm too beat to go home!"
	"Well, then stay here tonight."
	"OK."
	We embraced and fell into a deep sleep, not bothering to
shower. Pete woke first the next morning and quietly slipped out of bed.
	"Morning," I murmured as he was dressing.
	"Morning," he said and leaned over to give me a gentle kiss. "I
gotta run! Need to go to my place and shower and dress for work."
	"OK."

____________

	From the time that Pete and I had connected I had grown to
anticipate our times together. For sure, he had struck a harmonic chord in
me. I began to yearn for his touch, his presence, our couplings. He had
open doors to the lascivious delights in my being of which I was
unaware. The feel of his obdurate cock sliding in and out of my sensitized
love tunnel became more and more pleasurable for me, as well as the
plunging of my dick past his sphinctered bud into those dark erotic depths
of his. I had even experienced a spontaneous orgasm as his cock head
caressed my G-spot. That was a sensation I can only describe as, "Other
worldly!" I knew that I was a sensuous being, but Pete had caused me to
blossom in ways I never thought possible. Mostly our love making was slow
and easy in the initial stages reaching a crescendo of passion in which we
both exploded in untrammeled delight and physical release.
	A few times, our need was such that any preparatory, sensual
action, any fore play was bypassed and we merely fucked or sucked like
wanton animals releasing the need of the moment! Once, even, while in the
elevator at work, Pete suddenly shut of the elevator, stopping us between
floors, took out his then hard cock and stated, "Suck me. Now!" I did. It
was barely a minute before he came in my mouth and then we proceeded to our
floor as if nothing had transpired.
	Another time, at his apartment, Pete was preparing us a snack in
the kitchen. We were both nude and the sight of his firm ass at that moment
was too much for me. I walked up behind him and rasped in his ear, "I wanna
fuck your hot ass!" He snickered as he scooped up some soft butter, reached
behind him and slathered some of it over my iron, stiff cock before
anointing his hole. Without preamble, I shoved my dick up his ass and
fucked the hell out of him!
	 But, all of our meetings were not just physical. During our times
at work, we talked during the lunch breaks, spending the time plumbing each
other's likes, dislikes in that short time. I grew to know him in ways that
Khalid and I had grown together. I knew that my feelings for Pete had grown
from just rampant, physical release to something more. I felt that we were
verging on a relationship that had some degree of permanence. It was a
feeling that I kept to myself, only alluding to my true emotions on
occasion.

____________

	Weeks later, Pete stated, "A couple of my friends are having a
party Saturday night. Wanna go with me?"
	"Sure," I answered.
	The party was at this guy's apartment on the near north side. When
we arrived, the party had already been going on for a while. As we entered,
the host, John, walked up to us and kissed Pete on the lips, then kissed
me. I was a bit uneasy with that sudden familiarity, but thought, "Well,
when in Rome . . . . "
	There were four other guys and rather than submitting to their
kisses, I extended my hand in greeting as I was introduced to them. Pete,
on the other hand, was apparently familiar with them and kissed each one of
them.
	John's TV was on, playing a DVD, a gay DVD. It was the usual fare
for that genre and the screen flashed from one lurid scene to
another. Sucking and fucking in all positions imaginable. Frankly it was
sorta stimulating. Pete walked up behind me, wrapped his arms around me and
asked, "Like the video?"
	"Yeah! Quite athletic," I answered.
	Then he slipped his hand down to my crotch and cupped my already
growing hard on!
	I was a bit uneasy with his action and said, "Not here!" And, tried
to remove his hand.
	He didn't move his hand and began to fondle me. "Not to worry, my
horny friend. Look to your right."
	I did and in the entrance to a short hallway a guy was on his knees
sucking John`s cock. I glanced around and several of the others were
kissing passionately and fondling each others cocks! I remembered that time
in the boat house at Weston and how the sight of those two sucking and
fucking had turned me on. I was getting eroticized, especially by Pete's
fondling, but I really wasn't prepared for or had any need to exhibit my
passion for Pete in front of these guys.
	Deftly, Pete unzipped my pants and fished out my burgeoning cock. I
tried to restrain him, but his insistence and my growing eroticization made
such an effort futile. He turned me around, dropped to his knees and
gobbled my hard cock into his mouth. The battle was lost at that point. I
merely glanced around at the others and saw that all had already divested
themselves of their clothing. John had moved behind his
partner-of-the-moment as was soundly fucking him. Two others were locked in
a passionate soixante-neuf and were fingering each other's ass as they
feverishly sucked their partner's cock.  Pete worked his oral magic on my
cock and managed to pull my pants and briefs down to my ankles. I felt a
guys arms encircle my torso from behind and his fingers quickly sought out
my nipples and began to play with them.
	By that time, I was too far gone to resist. "I guess this is an
orgy!" I commented to myself. I had heard about orgies and even had seen
few on DVD's but never desired to partake in one. I decided to go with the
flow . . . up to a point!
	The guy reached down and pulled my polo shirt off over my head. I
lifted my arms in passive aid. There I stood naked in this stranger's
apartment with Pete sucking my cock and five other guys in various stages
of sexual play. The guy behind me began to caress my ass cheeks and a
finger insinuated itself down my crack towards my puckered bud. I reached
behind and removed the invading digit with some force.
	Then he stood up and whispered in my ear, "You have an amazing ass
I want to tongue your tight hole! Eat it out!" He dropped down again,
spread my cheeks and I could feel his tongue searching out the sensitive
bud.
	I bent over a bit to allow him easier access as Pete continued deep
throating me. Pete pulled off my cock, stood up, smiled at me and stripped
quickly. He was the last to get naked. He stood there fondling his hard,
virile member and looked at me.
	"Suck me!" he stated.
	I grabbed his waist, bent over and started to suck his cock. I
never could have imagined that I would suck his, or any other guy's cock in
front of anybody else, much less a group of strangers. But there I was
sucking Pete's cock while my ass was getting a pretty good rimming. My
rimmer spread my cheeks apart and with his thumbs spread my sphinctered
hole open and slid his tongue into me, tongue fucking me while I ministered
to Pete's cock. My physical onslaught, plus the moans and groans of the
other guys in the room fueled my passion.
	Pete pulled out of my mouth, leaned down and whispered, "I'm gonna
slide my cock into your wet hole."
	I neither nodded my assent nor shook my head in dissent. I merely
waited `til he maneuvered behind me, displaced the fucking tongue for his
larger and harder love muscle. Slowly he slid it in!
	"Ahhhh!" I gasped as he clutched my waist and began that primal
dance.
	Some guy came around and stood in front of me, offering his hard,
quaking cock for me to suck.

____________

	This whole situation was almost more than I could endure. I have
come to realize fully, that I am a one-person-guy! I have not been in a
situation, dare I say relationship, where I have had any feelings or need
to seek other sources for my sexual release.

____________

	The guy in front of me stepped closer and I felt obliged to suck
his cock. Besides, my state of eroticism with Pete fucking me didn't brook
anything else. It was an obligation, nothing I really yearned to do. So, I
sucked him without any real passion.
	After a few minutes Pete pulled out of me then reinserted his cock
and continued fucking me, but not with the same passion as before. I pulled
of the cock in front of me and turned to see Pete standing beside me being
ministered to orally by some other guy.
	"What the hell!" I stated and moved to disengage from whoever was
fucking me.
	Pete put his hand on my back, urging me to stay bent over in
compliance, passive compliance to the fucker behind me. "Relax! Just enjoy
it," he said.
	"I'm not into this!" I said.
	"Just do it!" Pete commanded.
	The state in which I now found myself was totally alien to me. It
was slightly repugnant. And when my anonymous fucker pulled out and another
stepped up to take his place, I had it! I never had expected in my life to
be the passive vessel of a gang bang!
	I stood up and forcefully said, "No!"
	"Come on, Jim . . . go with the flow," Pete pleaded.
	"No way!" I uttered and began to dress. "I'm leaving!" and added,
"You can get a ride home." And, I left.

____________

	It was a night I would never forget. First, if I had known that
Pete and I would have been having sex in front of a group of other guys, I
would have objected. Vehemently! I'm not a prude, but I'm not an
exhibitionist either. If that's something others want to do, then OK. But,
not me! Secondly, I am of the mind that I choose or at least accept those
with whom I am going to have sex. And, lastly, getting fucked is something
to me that is really a personal, intimate thing I choose to do with a guy
with whom I have more than a modicum of feelings for.
	I drove to my apartment in a state of high anxiety. How could Pete
expect me to submit? I felt violated physically and emotionally. I thought
that he had some feelings for me! I never would have expected him to do
what he erroneously assumed I would do. I felt betrayed. True, I had only
knew Pete for a few months, but nothing during that time gave me any
indication of what he had allowed to transpire that night.
	My anxiety, my sense of violation, my betrayal slowly turned to
anger as I lay in bed that night. I neither needed nor wanted that kind of
crap! Finally, I fell asleep.
	I awoke late Sunday morning feeling drained. I had a non-alcoholic
hangover!
	Around noon the phone rang. Thinking it was Pete, I almost didn't
answer it, but thought better of it and picked up the receiver.
	"Hello," I said leadenly, emotionless.
	"Geese! What a way to answer the phone. You sound like shit!" It
was Bob!
	"Oh! Hi!" I answered, a bit more upbeat.
	"Bad night?"
	"You wouldn't believe it!" I answered.
	"Wanna talk about it?" he asked.
	"Not over the phone," I admitted.
	"That bad?"
	"Yeah. It was."
	"Well, any way, the reason I called was to see if you are busy a
week from this coming Wednesday?"
	"No, not busy. Why?"
	"Well, I have an interview that Thursday and thought it would be
great to spend some time together. Even though you are just in Chicago, we
haven't seen each other in ages and thought it would be fun to spend some
time together. You game?"
	"That would be great! Where are you interviewing?"
	"University of Chicago."
	"Geese! Pretty high class! Didn't think you were that smart," I
said with a chuckle. Actually, Bob was academically talented and I wasn't
surprised.
	"Hah!" he said, then added, "The old man knows a few profs there
and got me the interview."
	"Great!" I said with enthusiasm. We chatted a few more minutes
before he rang off. His phone call and impending visit neutralized the mood
I was in. I made it through the rest of the day and prepared for
Monday. There was no way I could avoid seeing Pete at work.
	Got to work early and immersed myself in a project I was working
on. Coffee break time came and Pete walked up to my desk and asked, "Wanna
have coffee with me?"
	"Really can't. Got loads to do on this new analysis."
	"OK," he said and walked off.
	Noontime I went down to the cafeteria rather than picking up Pete
on the way and got my lunch and found an empty table. I began to eat my
food when Pete walked up with his tray.
	"Hi!" he said sheepishly, "Can I share your table?"
	"Sure," I answered neutrally as he sat down.
	"Are you mad at me?" Pete asked.
	"No, but really disappointed in you."
	We talked quietly while we ate and I explained my position.
	Pete thought that I over-reacted. "It was just a bunch of guys
getting together to have a little fun," he stated.
	"Maybe, But sex with a bunch of strangers is not my idea of
fun. Besides, I will never be interested in being the bottom for a gang
bang!"
	"I thought you liked getting fucked," he stated quietly.
	Pete knew that he was the first one I had ever allowed to fuck me,
and I answered, " I do, but only with you. I thought it was special for us!
But, I guess I was mistaken."
	"You make too much out of sex, Jim. It's not as though we had a
monogamous commitment together!"
	I didn't answered him, just stared into his eyes. Maybe he got the
message. We had lunch together a couple more times that week, but our
meetings were bland, neutral, nothing out of the ordinary.
	Friday afternoon, after I got home, Pete called me
	"Hi! Do you want to come over to my place for a while tonight?" he
asked, somewhat hesitantly.
	"No," I answered, then added, "My college room mate is coming this
week and I have a lot of cleaning to do."
	"Oh! OK. Maybe some other time," he stated. I could hear the
disappointment in his voice.
	"Yeah. Maybe," I answered.
	"See you at work then."
	"Sure," and he hung up.

____________

	That was hard to do, but after the incident the previous weekend, I
felt justified. And, besides this past week seeing and talking to Pete on a
strictly social-professional basis had cleared my mind of most of the hurt
and pain. I really wasn't a vengeful type, but that Saturday night forced
me to mature in ways I didn't think possible at this point. But, then, I
guess, certain experiences make you grow up quicker than others. It was
interesting, previously the sound of Pete's voice or his presence sent
sensual chills through my body. Fortunately, or unfortunately his voice
and/or presence no longer engendered that reaction.

____________

	Wednesday I hurried home and made some last minute preparations for
Bob's arrival. He had phoned the night before and said that he should be at
my place between 6:30 and 7:00 o'clock. I had made some light appetizers as
we had decided to go out later for dinner. That was a real ordeal for me as
I am nowhere near being considered a cook! I had spoken to one of my
colleagues with which I was on friendly terms and asked her if she could
recommend some simple appetizers.
	"You cooking?" Amie snorted.
	Amie was a few years older than me, happily married and besides we
came from similar types of backgrounds. I came from west central Wisconsin
and she from southeast Minnesota. We would chat during the infrequent slow
times and laugh at the things we used to experience as kids. Both of our
parents were rather conservative and somewhat churchly.
	"Well, nothing elaborate," I commented, "Just something I can make
without using the stove!"
	"Geese! Have you ever used your stove?"
	"Just to boil water," I said with a grin. Actually I could fry a
mean rasher of bacon and even pan broiled a steak or two. But, the oven was
off limits as far as I was concerned. I didn't even know how to operate the
damned thing!
	So, she brought me three carefully detailed recipes and talked me
through the procedures once or twice.
	"Well, I may not be a rocket scientist, but these seem pretty
simple to me," I commented.
	"We shall see!" she commented with a giggle.

____________

	The first was anchovy butter on Melba toast. That was easy. Made
that the night before after stopping at the local grocery store. Didn't
know what the hell Melba toast was. But I found out! The second was a
mixture of shrimp, avocado and Roquefort on thinly sliced
baguette. Baguette, I knew! I was gaining confidence. The third was a
challenge--cream cheese, capers and chopped chives rolled in
prosciutto. The prosciutto was hell to manipulate! After I got done the
`rolls' looked kinda funny, and a bit lumpy but tasted OK. I managed to
massage them into an acceptable looking roll. Anyway, by 6:30 everything
was done and I sat in the living room and awaited Bob's arrival.
	There was a knock on my door at 6:45. I opened it and there stood
Robert Veneable Jefferson grinning from ear to ear!
	"Damn! You're a sight for sore eyes," he happily greeted me as he
stepped in, dropped his suitcase and gave me a big hug.
	"Damn! It's good to see you," I said. Then I grabbed his suitcase
and took it to the guest room as Bob followed.
	"Nice apartment you've got here."
	"Yeah. A bit larger than our suite at Weston," I admitted with a
grin, then added, "The bathroom is across the hall if you care to freshen
up a bit."
	"Great! I could use the can."
	"Help yourself. When you're done we can have a drink before we go
off to dinner. You still drink Scotch and water?"
	"Yep. And, I could use one."
	I went to the kitchen and fixed our drinks, took them to the living
room and returned for my canapés. In a couple of minutes Bob walked into
the living room and inspected my appetizers.
	"Where did you get these? Is there a deli close by?"
	"Made them myself. Nothing too good for my ole roomie!"
	"Geese! Didn't know you had any skills in the kitchen!"
	"You'd be surprised what skills I've picked up the past couple of
years," I admitted proudly.
	"Bet I would," he answered with a smirk.

____________

	Bob and I had dinner at a local restaurant that specialized in
Lebanese food. We had hummus, tabbouleh, kibbeh, fried eggplant and flan
along with a bottle of wine. We chatted casually as if there had been no
time since our last meeting, merely a little catching up.
	When we got back to the apartment I fixed a cup of expresso. The
expresso maker was one of the things I splurged on for my kitchen. We
relaxed in the living room and sipped the pungent, aromatic, dark coffee.
	"Well, you seem in better spirits than when I called last Sunday,"
Bob commented.
	I was expecting this allusion, but really didn't know how to
explain to him my situation, my changing life style these past short
years. Bob was in no way homophobic, but I really didn't know how he would
accept my situation. I decided to tell him all, and hope for the best.
	"Bob," I started, hesitantly, "There is an aspect of my personality
. . . that I don't think . . . you are aware of." He sat there calmly
waiting for me to continue. "Remember that time at Weston when I had seen
those two in the boat house?"
	"Yeah. I remember."
	"Well, soon after that I experienced . . . I had . . . an anonymous
. . . sexual encounter when I went to Milwaukee to use their library. It
was totally unplanned . . . but . . . quite exciting . . . ."
	"I take it, you mean an experience with another guy?"  he said
neutrally, with no hint of emotion or judgement.
	"Yeah. But not face to face . . . It was in a john . . . a glory
hole." Still no reaction from Bob. "Well, anyway, when I got back to Weston
I had a few more similar encounters!"
	"You mean in the one in Old Main?"
	I was taken back a bit as his statement. "How did he know about
that glory hole? I asked myself. But, then I guessed that if anyone had
ever used that john they may have observed the hole in the wall.
	"Yeah," I answered. Then I told him about Khalid and the strong
emotional attachment that had developed between us.
	"Have you heard from him since he left?"
	"Only the one call. He never gave me his phone number and never
called me again."
	"That's understandable . . . especially in that country and
certainly if he got married," he declared.
	"Yeah. Guess you're right." Finally, I told him about Pete and that
`party,' leaving out most of the lurid details, but enough so that he got
the picture.
	"Damn! I would have smacked him in the chops!"

____________

	I smiled at that uncharacteristic remark. Bob was no wimp, but
neither was he an ultra macho type. I'm sure he could have taken care of
himself if the occasion ever arose, but I never knew him to be physically
aggressive or even assertive. He always managed with his well honed wits to
avoid any physical confrontation as impressive as his physique was.
	After my `confession, my revelation, my unloading' I felt
relieved. We just sat there in silence for a minute or two. Bob seemed
totally understanding and absolutely non-judgemental about the whole thing.

____________

	"Bob, I can't tell you what a burden this has been and just
talking, unloading to you has really lifted it for me. You've been so
understanding, I can imagine it's . . . been . . . quite a , , , surprise
for you."
	"First of all, unloading are what friends are for. Secondly, your
. . . relationship with other . . . guys . . . . Well, after that call last
Sunday, I couldn't imagine what serious thing had happened to you, or what
you did. It's not as though you killed someone! Making it with another guy
is not even on my list of . . . terrible things!" The last was made with a
knowing smile.
	"Thanks."
	"No thanks needed, Jim."

____________

	Bob left for his interview the next morning when I was leaving for
work.
	"See you for dinner tonight?" I asked.
	"Probably, but I'll call you either way."
	"OK. Good luck!"
	"Thanks."
	Bob called me on his cell phone around 5:30 that afternoon.
	"Are we still on for dinner?" he asked.
	"You bet," I answered and added, "Just got home. I'll have a drink
ready for you when you get here."
	"Any more of those yummy snacks you said you whipped up?"
	"Yeah. There are a few left in the fridge. I'll take them out for
you."
	"Good. See you in about a half an hour unless the traffic gets the
better of me," he stated with a wry chuckle
	"OK."

____________

	We had a nice, relaxed dinner Thursday night, Bob insisted that it
was his treat. He felt that the interview went well, but had to leave early
Friday morning for the drive back to Madison and an afternoon meeting with
his dissertation advisor prior to his orals.
	The next Wednesday, I got a call from Bob. He had been accepted at
the U of C and his orals were completed successfully, he passed.
	We made plans for him to come to Chicago and hunt for an apartment
in a couple of weeks, on a Fridsy.