Date: Sun, 26 Aug 2001 17:46:42 -0700 (PDT)
From: Evan Bradley <EBradley33@excite.com>
Subject: Chapter 16 of "Ambush"

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

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

EBradley33@Excite.com
                                                  Chapter 16
Revelations

I awoke alone.  Tim had gone home to change clothes before going to
school.  Jeremy had eaten breakfast and headed off to school.  I must have
been really worn out if their departures didn't awaken me.

I lay there, trying not to recognize misgivings lurking in the back of my
mind, distant murmurs predicting what I didn't want to consider.  A lot of
unsettled stuff.  I wondered how much my not being back in the classroom
was contributing to being ill at ease.  I certainly wasn't feeling productive.
After a little breakfast and a bath, I decided stirring my bones would pick
up the tenor of the day, so a walk outside seemed in order.  I don't know
how many blocks I ranged over before turning around to go back home.

Once there, soup and a sandwich seemed a good idea.  I sat in the kitchen
eating lunch, but the silence was getting to me.  As soon as I completed
the meal, I moved into the sunroom where I listened to Mendelssohn's
oratorio "Elijah."  For reasons I could not fathom (and resisted examining
closely, for I wanted to maintain the work's magic), the varied harmonies
and rhythms always managed to center me if I felt I had drifted or been
knocked off the mark.  I sank into the music, allowing the arias and
choruses to carry me along, knowing them so well that I could anticipate
favorite passages, humming, singing, even conducting here and there.

It didn't register at first.  But I quickly made out a pounding on the front
door.  I could imagine an alarmed motorist wanting to use the phone to
call 911 about an accident down the street.  I glanced out the little glass
circle in the door.  Robert again.  My heart sank.  My fears were going to
be fulfilled.

As soon as I opened the door, Robert shot in, trying to speak above the
beautiful soprano aria "Hear Ye, Israel."  I pointed to the sunroom.  He
walked in, sprawling on the couch again while I shut off the CD player.
His eyes were red; he'd been crying.  "You spoke to Kenny?"

"A little bit ago at school."  He scooted forward, elbows on knees, head in
hands.  I sat in my usual chair and waited for him to begin.

"I met Kenny in the parking lot at lunch.  I told him that we had to talk, that
something had happened that I'd never expected, that I'd met a girl and
fallen in love with her."

[The spit-it-right-out approach, I thought.  The tension was killing him; he
had to relieve it.  He didn't think how that approach was tantamount to a
gut-blow to Kenny.]

Robert continued, "Kenny's eyes got big.  Even before I finished, he
started shaking his head no.  I could see the tears filling his eyes.  He
turned and ran away from me.  My long legs made it easy to catch him.  I
spun him around.  He shouted that he hated me and punched me in the
jaw.  I couldn't stop my reflexes.  I hit him back hard.  He dropped like a
rock."  Robert's eyes darted around the room.

"Evan, I knocked him out," his voice tightening.  Then he gulped.  "When
he came to, he looked at me, rolled on his side and threw up.  I started
apologizing, telling him I hadn't expected him to hit me, so I had just
swung automatically.   There was no life in his eyes.  He slowly got up,
teetered around, stumbled, fell to his knees.  I tried to help him.  He
pushed my hands away.  He got back up and started walking off.  I
stepped forward, putting my hand on his shoulder, saying we had to talk
this through.  He wouldn't look at me.  He just shrugged my hands off and
walked away with his head hanging down.  He got in his car and
screeched off."

Robert arose, pacing around the room.  "It was worse than I ever expected,
Evan.  I thought Kenny'd cry a little, I'd tell him what you said, and we
could reach an understanding.  I never intended to hit him.  I'm sick about
it.  I don't want to be with anyone now, not even Lisa."  He clearly was
upset with himself.  Silence persisted.

"Robert, I am going to speak frankly:  you are being obtuse on this point,
and it is most unbecoming to you.  When a situation is threatening or
uncomfortable for you, you insist on underestimating the reactions of
others.  Then you are bewildered when you encounter the very reaction
you have intelligence enough to have anticipated all along. . . . If this
event had unfolded as you wished, it could only have done so because
your relationship with Kenny was superficial.  Even I could see and hear
that that was not the case.  You two fed each other. . . . Can you tell me
why you behave in that manner?"

He had colored, not expecting me to be so blunt.  He just shook his head in
the negative.

"You are guarding yourself.  Get over that.  If you have created a bad
situation, stand up tall, admit it, take it like a man.  Quit this self-serving
dodging game.  It's beneath you.  You are strong enough to look a
problem in the eye, especially if you are the author of that problem.  A real
man does not protect himself at the expense of others, particularly those he
cares about.  Until you embrace this strong posture, you will never be a
successful leader.  I won't even regard you a man, certainly not my equal.

Pause.  "You are human.  You WILL make mistakes.  Only people with
weak self-images find themselves threatened by admitting 'I made a
mistake.  I'm sorry.'  If you cause someone hurt undeservedly, then you
hurt with him."  More silence-he needed to soak in what I had just told
him.  He shuffled his feet a little.

"I'm sorry."

"Robert, you have done nothing to me requiring an apology.  To whom is
the apology owed?"

Softly, "Kenny."  He continued pacing the room.

Silence.  "Why did he throw up, Evan?"

"Why do you think?"

"He shouldn't have thrown up from my hitting him.  Was it because of
what I said?"

"Come on, Robert.  You weren't born yesterday.  You're intelligent.  You
know the answer to your own question."

"His stomach couldn't stand the news about Lisa and me?"

I said nothing; he didn't want to believe his answer was accurate.

"How can something be so bad that it makes you throw up?"

"Pray that you never find out.  When bad news runs to the center of one's
being, one's identity, causing destruction, the body rebels. . . . Robert, the
pain you are feeling now doesn't begin to match what Kenny is feeling.
You know that, don't you?  He's empty, lost, hurting.  The light in his life
just dumped him."

He looked at me dumbly.

"As painful as this is for you, Robert, you need this reality fix.  Though
you are capable of it, you insist on not seeing this situation from Kenny's
point of view.  You have Lisa to take Kenny's place.  He has no one to
take your place.  May we try something?"

"I guess."

"I want you to close your eyes."  He did so.  "Now see Kenny in your
mind's eye."  Pause.  "See him as he looked at you that night you were
first together."  Pause.  "See him looking at you after the best sex you ever
had."  Pause.  "See him at your most fun time together."  Pause.  "See him
as he looked at you in his most worshipful way."  Pause.  "Now move into
those eyes."  Pause.  "Try very hard to become Kenny."  Much longer
pause.  "Now feel Robert holding you, protecting you, loving you."  He
strangled himself on a sob.

"I've hurt Kenny so much.  I didn't mean to.  I didn't mean to,"
he said in anguish.  He walked over to me and dropped in my lap.  I held
him while he wept.  After awhile he pulled away.

"I'm such a shit.  I kept telling myself, convincing myself it wouldn't be as
bad as I feared.  I guess by doing that, I made it worse, huh?"

"Once again, you have provided an accurate answer to your own question.
Notice, Robert, that you usually know the correct answer.  You just won't
take delivery on it.  You have the gift of knowing the answer, but you
reject it.  What a blunder!  That's like Apollo's curse on Cassandra when
she spurned his advances-he gave her the gift of prophecy but cursed her
by making everyone disbelieve her prophecies.  You know the answer but
won't believe it.  In this instance, you are casting the curse on yourself."

"What can I do to help Kenny?"

"Have you been praying for him as I suggested?"

"No.  I guess I didn't think you were really serious.  People don't talk
about praying any more."

"Look, kid, Mistake Number One:  I don't mess around.  If I say it, I'm
serious.  Unless I'm teasing or joking, don't you ever doubt what I tell you
again.  If you don't like what I suggest, then don't come around any more.
I have neither time nor patience for weaklings and wimps."

"Mistake Number Two:  since when did you allow 'people' to set your
standards?  That just makes you mediocre, for you are allowing yourself to
be determined by the lowest common denominator.  Damn, Robert!  I
thought you were strong.  I thought you stood for something."

"I didn't mean to make you mad."

"It ISN'T about what I am or am not.  It's about YOU and what you are
refusing to be."

He arose and walked slowly around the room, doing my "mental circuits."
I allowed the silence to endure.  He had some serious thinking to do.

"You're right.  I'm worried about getting out of this situation with the
least mess and pain possible."

"That attitude represents moral housekeeping gone bad.  Which means
you are really thinking about whom?"

"Me."

"Robert, learn a lesson.  Life is imbalanced, chaotic, messy, unpredictable.
All those states are natural.  You CAN'T avoid them."

"Please believe me when I say that I really do care for Kenny."

"Don't tell me; show me. . . . Do you understand why he finds it difficult
to be in your company."

He shook his head no, bewildered.  "We meant so much to each other."

"You have dismissed him from the only place he knew in your life.  The
first night he was with you, he gave himself to you, gave you his virginity.
As you have admitted previously, it was merely a trophy to you, but it was
much more than that for him, a fact you missed or have decided to ignore.
Your taking him ended his hunger for self-respect, for belonging, for
being loved.  That's how he defined himself in reference to you:  in his
eyes, he became your lover.  Now that you have closed that down, you
cannot help him.  He needs to find a different footing in reference to
you-assuming that he wants a relationship with you in the future."

"I never knew it could be this hard."

"That's because you've led a charmed existence:  you've never had life
be that hard.  Anyone ever dump you?"

His eyes shifted to me and away furtively.  "No."

"There are people out there, Robert, who feel every day the way
you feel now-and worse.  And that feeling persists day after day.  You
just took your privileged position for granted.  You will no longer do that,
I think.  And you will be the better for it."  I paused so that he could
consider the landscape I was presenting.

"You show much promise as a leader, Robert.  But you could never have
been a strong leader without learning what you have on this occasion.
Look for those people who are hurting like Kenny.  They're all around
you.  You don't have to be the Pied Piper, leading them off to a protected
place.  Instead, give them a smile.  Say hello.  Go out of your way for
them a little.  Chat them up occasionally.  Give them a kind word.  Cheer
them on a little when it's appropriate.  The more you don't want to
respond to them, the more you need to if you are going to overcome this
handicap.  Before long you will recognize what brightness you are
bringing to their lives.  On most days these simple gestures are the greatest
gifts we can confer on humankind, for they are validating, affirming.
Even when you have extended a simple gesture, you won't know how
much you are doing for them deep down, but the healing can begin just
that simply."

"I want to heal Kenny.  I owe it to him."

"Yes, you do, and I appreciate your desire to help him.  But you are not
the one to heal Kenny, Robert."

He looked at me for a moment, clearly thinking about what I had just said.
"I guess that's my punishment for putting him out of my life, huh?"

"A better expression than 'punishment' would be 'cost.'   But I hope you
know that somewhere on down the line, when he recovers his self-esteem,
he may be open to a friendship with you.  It would be quite foolish to
close the door on such a possibility.  At that point, he may need you
differently but just as much as in the past.  The special healing you can
effect in him will occur then."

"Do you think that will happen this year?"

"I haven't the foggiest notion.  It's really up to Kenny, determined by the
speed with which he recovers.  The speed of his recovery will be
governed by the way he perceives himself in relation to this situation and
what he decides to do about it."

"Don't you think he'll recover?"

"Robert, I don't know.  I've seen situations like this resolve themselves
happily and unhappily.  I won't gild the lily for you:  some people never
recover, remaining bitter, cynical, unable to trust and therefore unable to
sustain a relationship.  Forever after they are stunted in their development.
I hope, given Kenny's strengths, that that won't happen with him, or won't
persist for long if it does.  A positive outcome to Kenny's struggle is
something you might request of Providence.  But until then, you have to
give him time and space.  You need to devote your energy to building a
relationship with Lisa.  Otherwise, damage will have been done for
nothing.  That would be hard for everyone to take."

"Let's get you on the right track, Robert.  I'm going to give you an
assignment."  He looked at me doubtfully.  "For the next four days, I want
you to single out a person who looks dead, beaten down, alienated.  I want
you to perform one of those actions I mentioned.  Just one person the first
day.  Two the second day.  Three the third day and four the fourth day.
They don't have to be different people each day.  You can have some
repeaters.  But with the repeaters, look for a difference, a change in their
demeanor, especially in their eyes.  Then see me on the fifth day to report
what you have observed.  If you fail to let me know, I'll come to school
looking for you.  I'll be standing right outside whatever classroom you are
occupying, waiting for the period to end.  Don't make me do that."  I
know the steel was back in my blues.

"Okay. . . . Evan, what's going to become of Kenny?"

I could read genuine concern in his face.  "In your mind's eye, see Kenny.
Tell me when you have formed that image."

"Okay."

"What's he doing?

"Bending over a sketch pad."

"Now add ten years of experience and maturation to him."

Pause.  "Okay."

"Now he looks up, gazes in your eyes.  What do you see?" I asked.  As I
studied him, I could tell Robert was not looking at me; he was looking
down time at Kenny.

"He's a handsome guy.  A warm smile.  Still short, still slim.  Still has a
cute little ass," he smiled.  "His personality is warm; he's at ease with
himself."  Then the smile faded.

"Back in his eyes . . . I see hurt."

"Due to what?"

Robert's eyes shifted to me as they began to glitter with tears.  "You
know-loss of his first love."

"Is the hurt a good or a bad thing?"

"I don't know.  What do you think?"

"It all depends on how Kenny chooses to face it.  It could be a wound,
filling him with rancor.  But it could also be a well from which springs
concern, love, compassion that he bestows on others."

"I want so much for him to be happy, Evan."

"I believe you, Robert.  But Kenny has to work through a lot now.
Figuratively speaking, he's flat on his back with the wind knocked out of
him.  Watch.  Wait. You'll know when to re-establish contact.

"Soon, do you think?"

"I don't really know.  There are too many variables in the mix to predict.
. . . . Settle a question for me:  if you knew back when you and Kenny
became involved what you know now, would you have proceeded into a
relationship with him?"

Robert was thinking hard, weighing factors.  I saw a little light spring to
his eyes.  "Yes, but I would have prepared him for our parting so he
wouldn't have been hurt so much.  Well-not hurt anymore than
necessary."

"What is your reasoning?"

"Selfishly?" he asked.  "Kenny helped me finalize a sense of myself.  [Ah,
I was hearing the man speak now.]  He pulled me out of myself, gave me
depth, gave me real love and adoration.  I felt great about myself, my
world."

Robert paused.  "But I gave him love too.  Confidence.  I pulled him out
of himself.  I gave him depth too.  I brought him closer to his manhood.  I
helped him assume more control.  I taught him how to make love."  Robert
paused.  "If he doesn't hate me, or hate me too long, these will come back
to him.  He may even admit that he advanced with my help.  That's good,"
he spoke hopefully.  "But I also see now why you were angry at me.  If
Kenny did all that for me, I am a shit for thinking everything could be
smoothed over as though none of that were significant."

Silence ensued.  Robert had accommodated himself to the extent that time
and circumstance allowed at the present.  It was good for him.  I wished I
could say Kenny was moving toward recovery.

Robert arose, as did I, and we began moving to the front door.  Upon
reaching it, he wheeled about, caught me in his arms, and pulled me
tightly to him.  "How stupid of me to resent Kenny's wanting to bring you
into the Pride," he spoke softly down to me.  "You have given me so
much, Evan.  Someone else might have trashed me for what I did to
Kenny, but I realize you care as much about me as you do about Kenny.  I
hope I have given you gifts too?" he said as he pushed his body back,
looking into my eyes.

I smiled.  "A treasure chest full, Robert."  Pause.  "Please don't drop me."

He chuckled.  "I've done some dumb things in my time, but I'm not
THAT dumb.  I hope we can turn to each other when we heed help."

"Of course."

"No, Evan.  NO polite answer.  I'll be waiting for that day when I can help
you.  It's a gift I know you'll give me.  That and news about how Kenny is
doing."  He leaned down and kissed me gently, sweetly.  Then he walked
out the door, closing it behind him.

I returned to the sunroom, sitting in silence, worrying about Kenny.  He
wouldn't return to school today.  Where would he go?  If I knew, I'd go
looking for him.  But Jeremy had driven my car to school.  I sat absorbed
in thought.  Kenny was such a sweet kid.  If he survived without being
warped by it, this experience would teach him something-I couldn't
imagine what at the moment.  But he'd grow up to be a great guy.

It was only when I heard the front door opening to admit Jeremy and Troy
that I realized that I had been sitting there thinking about Kenny for at
least a half hour.  Jeremy and Troy were chatting away.  They turned
down the hallway to Jeremy's room, where their voices became murmurs.

Jeremy was taking to his room like an animal to his autumn den, which
delighted me.  It was always neat as a pin, neater than mine since the
accident.  I wondered what it felt like for him to be able to take a friend
home to his room.

I anticipated Friday evening programming for teens, so I hopped up, going
to my bedroom and raiding my stash of cash.  After I returned to the
sunroom, Jeremy and Troy stuck their heads in.  "Troy, the guys and I are
going to hit a burger joint and catch a movie.  I won't be too late."  He
came over and hugged me.  I slipped the bills in his pocket.  He just
smiled:  "Thank you."

"Do you have your key?" I asked.

"Yes, Dad."

"Hey, guys, keep an eye out for Kenny tonight, okay?  If you see Susan,
would you ask her too?"

They glanced at each other and then looked at me.  "I guess Robert told
him about Lisa?" Jeremy asked.

"Yes.  Kenny didn't take it well.  I am worried about him.  I pray he
doesn't think a rash response is the answer to his dilemma."

"What should we do if we see him?" Troy asked.

"He feels like he's tottering on the edge of the world.  Pull him back. . . .
He'll be feeling that he has nothing important left.  Convince him that he
has two friends who care very much about him, who should be important
to him, and to whom he is important.  If your plans and the crew with
whom you are keeping company allow it, include Kenny.  Then see that he
gets home okay.  He's going to need us these next few weeks."

"Don't worry, Evan.  We'll watch for him.  We care for him too," Jeremy
promised.

"What are you going to do," Troy asked.

"Read my mystery."

"Tim isn't coming over?" asked Troy.

I could feel myself blushing.  Now why was I doing that?  "Not that I
know of."

I saw Jeremy and Troy steal another glance at each other.  Did they know
something?  I wouldn't put them in a tight spot by asking, no matter how
much I wanted to do so.

They both waved goodbye as they moved to and out the front door.  When
it closed, I stood there, processing the scene just enacted.  "Troy, the guys
and I . . . ," Jeremy had said.  The guys?  Who?  Troy's jock buddies, I
guess.  Hmmmmmmm.
..........

I had spent the evening devouring chapters in my mystery.  I heard the
front door open.  "Evan!" Jeremy shouted with urgency punctuating my
name.  I grabbed my crutches, moving out to the living room.  There stood
Troy, holding an unconscious Kenny in his arms.  Kenny looked terrible,
his clothes soiled and rumpled, his face pale.

"What happened?" I asked.

"We stopped for a coke after the movies.  Some kids told us they'd heard
Kenny was drunk at this dive.  We thought we ought to check it out.  It
was a really skuzzy place, Evan.  There were these creeps.  They'd been
buying Kenny drinks.  I think they had plans for him," Jeremy explained.

Troy took his turn in relating Kenny's situation.  "We acted like Kenny's
two best buds.  He was about ready to pass out, so we said something like
'Oh, no man.  Try to hold it in until we get outside.  Don't spew in here.'
Then we hustled him outside.  We didn't think we ought to take him to his
home, so we brought him here,"

Jeremy jumped in, "I want him to stay in my room, Evan.  I'll take care of
him."

"Okay, you guys go get him out of his clothes and in bed.  Put your
trashcan on his side of the bed in case he's sick to his stomach in the night.
Be certain to put him on his side, not his back."

"Oh," Troy said, "so he won't choke on vomit?"

"Yes," I confirmed his intuition.  "When you have Kenny in bed, come out
here while we decide what to do."  Jeremy led the way down the hall with
Troy following behind, still carrying Kenny.  I recalled Troy's carrying
me like that too.  How safe I had felt.  Would that I could feel that safe
now.  I returned to the sunroom.

In about ten minutes the fellas rejoined me.  "Look, guys, I'm thinking
about his parents.  If Kenny doesn't come home, they'll worry."

"No," Jeremy said, "they're out of town this weekend.  Kenny told me a
couple of days ago about they're leaving."

"Well, let's breathe a sigh of relief about that," I exclaimed.  "Kenny's
reaction is worse than I expected."  I squirmed, sounding just like Robert
earlier in the day.

"Why would a little guy like Kenny go to such a rough place?" Troy
asked.

I sat looking at them.  Jeremy grinned.  "Ah-oh, Troy, we have to guess
the answer."

"It isn't a game of Guess.  You guys are leaders.  You need to be able to
determine what's going on without always relying on someone to tell you,
to give you his or her version or interpretation.  You are both capable of
answering the question."

They looked at each other.  "He wanted to be hurt?" Troy asked.

"No-o-o-o, but what you said may be in the area of a right answer."
Jeremy theorized, continuing to look into Troy's eyes as though each were
reading thoughts in the other's vision.  He was silent for a brief time.  "He
wanted sex, so he went were he knew he could get it easily."

"He wanted sex to block the pain of knowing that he would never get any
again from Robert," Troy said, reading Jeremy's eyes.  "He knew he was
cute enough to get one or two guys there interested in him.  They would
do him but not ask questions."

"He could have been flirting with the idea of being punished while getting
sex." Jeremy continued.

"Punished because he was blaming himself for losing Robert," Troy
added.

"You guys are good.  You make a good team," I observed.  They smiled at
each other.

"So what do we do now?" Troy asked.

"For the meantime, he stays here until his parents return.  Do you know
when that is, Jeremy?"

"By midweek.  He can stay in my room."  Jeremy looked at Troy.
"Should we cancel the double date so that I can stay here with Kenny?"

I started to answer, then thought "Evan, shut up.  They can handle this."

"I think Jeremy needs for life to look ordinary around him because that is
what he will want to return to as soon as possible.  He wouldn't like
thinking he caused us to cancel the evening's plans.  But next time, Susan
can fix him up if he wants a date.  Should we ask him to go with us?" Troy
wondered.

"I think that may be integrating too soon for him.  He can stay here with
Evan-if that's okay with you, Evan?  Maybe you and Tim are doing
something?" Jeremy asked, turning to look at me.

"Good thinking about Kenny's behavior on both your parts," I said.  "Bout
the other, Tim and I have no plans."  AGAIN that glance passed between
them.  What did they know?

We chatted for a while about tomorrow night's double date, about the next
week-my follow-up visit with Dr. Sorenson, my belief (to which they
looked skeptical) that he would allow me to return to school.  Jeremy's
work schedule.  My needing the car.  The need for a trip to the grocery
store.  About Jeremy's taking Kenny home to get some clothes while
Troy, Cody, and a couple of his big jock friends would retrieve Kenny's
car from the parking lot of the dive.

I asked Jeremy again if he had given any thought to having his friends
over for a social evening, say next Friday or Saturday evening.  That query
lit their fires, enlivening them as they talked about which night.  It was
decided that Friday night was good because that would leave Saturday
night for another evening of fun.

"Where are we putting the kegs?" Jeremy asked, his eyes twinkling with
mischief.

"We don't need kegs of salsa," I replied, looking sober as a judge.  "We
won't have that many chips."  Troy and Jeremy groaned.  "You know the
rules," I intoned parentally.

"But Da-a-a-a-a-a-d . . .," Jeremy whined.  Then he started grinning.
"Yeah, we know the rules.  Who's invited?"

"I'm not inviting anyone although I may ask a couple of chaperones to
help out.  It's your get-together for your friends.  You will decide whom to
invite.  Perhaps we need to settle on a manageable number.  Only so many
people will fit in here."

"Oh, I know!" he said excitedly.  "Kitty Cat and her sleek felines from that
topless bar on Creighton Street."

"You know about a topless bar and where it is located?" I asked.

"Every stud in school knows about the bar," Jeremy said, mugging
superiority.

"Then I guess I'll have to exercise veto power over the guest list."

"Oh great," Jeremy looked at Troy in disgust.  "That means we'll have to
invite Prunella Grunt and Wanda Warthog."

Troy and I burst into laughter.  Jeremy looked pleased that he had brought
levity to the moment.  "Listen, guys, I need to retire.  I'm weary," I
admitted.  "I'll see you both tomorrow."

They wished me a good night.  I heard them finalizing tomorrow
evening's schedule as I moved down the hall to open Jeremy's bedroom
door silently.  I crutched into the room to check on Kenny.  He was still on
his side, breathing softly.  I turned, leaving the room as silently as I'd
entered.  I returned to my bedroom, closing the door.

As I pulled the bedspread back, my mind returned to the glances Jeremy
and Troy had shot between themselves when Tim was mentioned.  It
didn't make me feel good.  Even though he was joking about other
matters, Jeremy hadn't joked any about Tim and me, revealing that
something was making him pussyfoot around the topic.  Troy had asked if
Tim were going to visit this evening, which meant he didn't know Tim's
plans.  I wondered how Susan would have behaved in those moments had
she been here.  In fact, I wondered why she and Troy weren't together
tonight.
Oh . . . I realized that they decided Jeremy needed a night out with the
boys.  I hoped Troy had wanted an opportunity to move Jeremy into his
guy circle.  Susan would certainly go along with that.

Had Susan been here, would she have told me something if she knew
anything?   Good question.  Would she warn me about something?  She
had never done so.  But then, she had not needed to do so.

After preparing for bed and visiting the bathroom, I eased down on the
sheets.  I thought about Tim's easing down beside me, feeling my body
roll toward his as his shifted toward me.  It seemed as though I tossed and
turned for an hour.  Suddenly, Tim was beside me, his long arms pulling
me against his naked body, my naked body tight against him, the hair on
his chest, stomach, crotch, legs tickling me as he threw a leg over me and
smashed his lips against mine.  His tongue took possession of mine.  He
was turned on.

He rolled me onto my back, looking into my eyes.  Then he moved back,
bending over my pecs, chewing on a nipple while his fingertips played
over my stomach.  This was not going to be tender love-making.  When he
moved to the other nipple, his hand moved down to my thighs, his
fingertips playing lightly over the skin there.

He moved down to my dick, placing his lips just behind the cap as his
tongue ran rapidly around its circumference.  My ass was doing a dance on
the bed, for Tim was turning me on big time.  He pulled off, placed his
arms under my knees, and lifted, raising my ass toward him.  He started
aggressively licking my ass cheeks, pausing occasionally to stab at my
pucker with his tongue.  After a time, he lowered me to the bed, grabbed
the lube from the nightstand drawer, and spread a dollop on his cock,
using the residue to slick up my hole.  He wasn't going to lube me inside.
I guess he wanted a degree of roughness with this fuck.  Why?

He raised my ass enough to place a pillow under it, moving the head of his
big dick up to my hole.  He plunged in, eliciting a yelp from me.  Then he
started pumping as though he were in a race.  Suddenly, I saw someone
move into the field of my vision.  Tim sensed him too, turning to look at
him.  He smiled.  They started talking, then flirting, but what they were
saying didn't register with me.  Just noise.

The guy was young, blond, tall, swimmer's physique, handsome.  Wide
shoulders but not overly developed pecs, thin waist.  His legs were
beautiful.  Just looking at them made my cock throb.  Tim's eyes were
glittering.  All of a sudden he pulled out, making me yelp again.  They
started walking off into the shadows, Tim's hard dick bobbing back and
forth.  He threw an arm around the shoulders of the blond, who placed an
arm around Tim's waist.  I called and called after Tim.  I was ashamed of
myself, but I was begging him to come back.  Couldn't he hear me?  He
gave no sign.  They disappeared in the darkness.  I shot up in bed.

It had only been a dream.  But I felt as though Tim had actually gone off
with a guy better than I.  Sleep wasn't going to return.  Slipping into a
bathrobe, I quietly moved out to the sunroom, not turning on any lights.  I
sat there in the dark, trying to calm the storm inside.

Immediately, the dream about the exercise room and the ominous shadow
popped into my mind.  I hadn't really taken that dream seriously.  Should I
take this dream seriously?  I had never had much recollection of my
dreams.  In fact, I had claimed never to have any except for a few in which
I was able to smoke again without getting hooked.

I had been sitting there only about five minutes when a shadow filled the
doorway of the sunroom.  Jeremy.  He stepped down and walked over to
me, squatting and placing a hand on my leg.  The white of his briefs
gleamed in the darkness.  "You had a bad dream," he said.  "I heard you
calling for Tim."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Jeremy.  I didn't mean to awaken you."  I was glad the
dark hid my blush.

"You didn't.  I was checking on Kenny."

"How is he?"

"Sleeping like a baby.  How are you feeling now?" Jeremy asked.

I didn't answer right away.  "Confused."

"About you and Tim?"

"The dream."

"Did I cause the bad dream?"

"Oh no.  You weren't in it at all."

"What do you think it means?"

"Nothing.  What is it Scrooge says after Marley's ghost visits him in 'A
Christmas Carol?'  He's trying to explain away the ghost.  He says
perhaps it was something he ate, a piece of beef that didn't digest well.
I'll have to pay more attention to what I am eating in the evening.  Or
maybe the pain pills.  That's probably it."  What a choice for an
illustration-Marley's ghost predicts visits by other ghosts, predicts the
future.  I hoped Jeremy didn't follow the allusion that far.

"Are you worried about anything?" Jeremy asked.

"Naw.  What's to be worried about-other than Kenny?"

Silence ensued.  "Okay," Jeremy said, "I'll go back to bed.  If you need
me, call."

"Surely," I replied.

I wondered if he bought it.

(To be continued.)