dontravis.com blog post #651
Last
week, we met Bobolink and Marco, just as they met one another. Bobolink was
knocked off his feet. But how did Marco feel about their meeting. He seemed
interesting in making a new friend.
Let’s see what develops in this second installment.
NEVEREND
The Saturday I first played
tennis with Marco was the most perfect day of my life. I had to scramble, but I
was a match for him on the court when I could refrain from watching him rather
than the ball.
Afterward, we showered
side-by-side in the school locker room, and my eyes feasted on his fantastic
naked form. Hiding my unintended erection at times became a problem, but if he
noticed, he gave no sign.
After what-should-have-been a
routine cleansing of the flesh—but was actually an exciting event of overwhelming
intimacy, at least for me—we stopped for a drink at a local tavern and freely
shared our past lives. I had never revealed so many petty confessions to any
soul before, and found it not only liberating, but also titillating.
Upon leaving the bar on the
way to our cars, he paused, threw an arm over my shoulders, and took a moment
to comment on the monstrous moon hovering in the sky. At that moment, I would
have done anything for him… anything at all. But we merely proceeded to our
cars, told one another how much we enjoyed the day and departed.
But not before he poked my
chest with a forefinger and arched his eyebrow. “Next Saturday, same time.
Date?”
I probably looked like an
idiot with my head flapping so hard.
****
We saw one another regularly
after that, not just on Saturday for tennis, but other times, as well. For me,
it meant falling deeper into love. For Marco, probably just an easy friendship.
During our first Saturday confession, he’d warned that he made casual relations
easily, but had trouble holding onto them over time.
Two months passed before the
true nature of things changed between us. I remember it clearly. The school
year was coming to an end, and I was desperately trying to figure how to hold
onto our friendship. My anxiety must have been obvious.
As we sat in the tavern for an
after-dinner beer—we’d both had the bistro’s famous corned beef on rye with
German potato salad—he put down his glass and touched my arm.
“Why so down, Bobolink?” The
nickname sounded beautiful when he said it.
“Graduation’s coming up.
And….” I swallowed hard. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to a friendship
that’s become important to me.”
“I’ve been thinking on that
too. Never had anyone worm his way into my heart the way you have. I’ll be
walking down the sidewalk and spot someone across the quadrangle and wonder if
it’s my handsome friend, Bobolink? Then I’ll see it’s only some guy, and feel
disappointment in my gut.”
“You… you do that too?”
“All the time. You’ve become
important to me, my friend. That’s why it’s so hard for me to do what comes
next.”
My heart dropped into my
stomach. He was calling it quits! “Which is?” I managed to say without
stuttering.
“I’m about to risk our
friendship by asking….”
“Wh-what?” I said through a
dry throat.”
“Would you go to bed with me?
I’ve never met a man before who makes me think of sex every time I see him. Never
known anyone who makes me lie in bed after one of our dates—yeah, that’s the
way I think of them—and ache for him.” He dropped his eyes to the table. “Sorry
if that turns you off, but… well, that’s the way it is for me.”
Ignoring everyone else in the
tavern, I laid my hand atop his on the table. “Turn me off? It sets me on fire.
I couldn’t stand up right now without embarrassing you and everyone else in the
joint.”
He turned his hand over and
gripped mine. “Do you mean it?”
I nodded.
“Are you experienced? Know
what you’re saying?”
I shook my head just as hard.
“Never been with man or boy in all my life. But I’ve lain awake just like you
have trying to imagine it. For months now.”
Marco’s sudden smile died.
“That’s good news, and that’s bad news.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some guys, for one reason or
the other, get attracted to someone of their own sex. When they give in and try
it out, they come away feeling ashamed of what they’ve done. Mortified. They
can’t stand to be around the guy they once idolized because it reminds them of
their supposed weakness.”
I met his big, sultry eyes. “Have
you… uh, done it with guys? Has that happened to you?”
He met my stared. “Yeah. I’ve
had sex with men. And to be honest, the first time I felt exactly that way and
avoided the guy from then on.” He rested his chin in a palm. “I think it was
because I was so young. Only sixteen. He was older, twenty or so. He knew what
he wanted, I didn’t. And I was more religious back then and considered it to be
a sin.”
“You don’t now?”
He shook his handsome head,
the shadows of the semidarkness playing over the planes and angles of his face.
“The next time I was eighteen. And I knew what I wanted from the kid—who was my
own age. I handled it fine. So did he.”
“Eighteen. That was only two
years ago.”
He nodded. “What do you say?
Wanna risk it?”
“I swallowed hard to moisten
my arid throat. “Y… yes.”
“Your place or mine?”
“Yours, I’ve got a roommate,
remember?”
I’ll never forget how unsteady
I was when I stood and got out of the booth. The slow, languid way we moved
into the night. The glorious display of the moon almost swamped the dazzling display
of stars. A sudden, frightening thought caused me to miss a step. Was this the
end of Neverend… or the reaffirmation of it?
“What’s the matter,” Marco
asked, reaching out to grasp my hand. “Have you changed your mind?”
“No,” I said firmly.
As I followed Marco’s
taillights down the road toward his off-campus apartment, the drive seemed
interminable.
So Bobolink’s
on the way to his first man on man sexual encounter. Is he prepared for it?
Were you? How did yours work out. The way you anticipated? Better? Worse?
Measure your reaction against his next week.
Now my mantra: Keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say... so say it.
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See you next time.
Don
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