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11. Chapter 11 From A Summer Love

Mark Arbour%s's Photo   Mark Arbour, 05 Jan 2011

October 5, 1991

        I took a shower and went straight to bed, not waking up until 4pm.  My head hurt, my jaw hurt, and I felt like total shit.  The E hangover that the guys at the bar talked about.  It tweaked you out while you were on it, but when you crashed, you crashed.  And not in an exhausted way, in a sad way.  If it weren’t for my date with Max tonight, I thought, I'd be pretty fucking depressed right now. 

        I didn't really know where to take Max for dinner.  Part of me wanted to take him to the J-Bar, since it was now part of me, or at least part of my investment portfolio.  Part of me wanted to take him somewhere nice, like Morton’s.  Then there was the part of me that wanted to order a pizza and rip off his clothes and fuck him all night long.  I sadly ruled the last option out, and called to arrange a car to take us wherever we needed to go. 

        I called JP next and told him all about my shitty night.  “So I have no idea where the car you bought me went,” I said sadly.

        “It is only a thing Marcel.  What is important is that you are safe.  So you're going out with Max tonight?” 

        I smiled into the phone.  “Yeah.  I really like him JP, but he's so standoffish.  I mean, he plays harder to get than even you did.” 

        JP laughed.  “I'm not sure if that's saying much.  As I recall, I was pretty easy.” 

        “It only took me five years,” I countered.  “I guess I’d better go get ready.” 

        “Wear clothes.  You don't want to appear too forward,” he joked.  I hung up and smiled, happy with where we'd ended up, with where our relationship was. 

        I wore a nice pair of khakis and a blue shirt, along with a navy blazer.  The blazer had monogrammed buttons, of course.  I laughed at myself in the mirror, at how incredibly preppy I looked.  At 6:45pm the doorbell rang.  I opened it up to find Max dressed almost identically to me, except his buttons weren't monogrammed. 

        We both started laughing.  “You look very nice,” I teased. 

        “As do you.  But I think my khakis are nicer than yours,” he said.

        “Yes, but you do not have monogrammed buttons.” 

        “I feel so inadequate,” he teased back. 

        “So where do you want to go?  I figured I'd narrow it down and give you two choices.  Well, actually I had three, but I ruled the third one out.” 

        “What was the third one?” he asked. 

        “Order a pizza, rip your clothes off, and fuck you all night.” 

        He laughed.  “Probably a good idea to rule that one out.  What are the other two?” 

        I pretended to pout a little bit.  “Well, I invested in a gay bar not far from where you live.  I've been hanging out there on weekends, and that's where I was last night.  They have a pretty good restaurant, but it's still a club.  The other choice is to go to Morton’s, or that restaurant at the top of the Hancock building.  So I figured I'd narrow the choices and you could pick.” 

        “Will there be an orgy at this bar?” he asked. 

        “Not unless we start it,” I teased.  “Seriously, the restaurant is pretty separate.  We do not have to go in and dance or anything unless you want to.” 

        “Let's give it a try,” he said. 

        The limo took us down the drive to the bar.  “I could have driven,” Max said.

        “Your car has a limited number of miles left on it.  You need to conserve them,” I said.

        “Look who's talking.  At least I have a car.”  Touché.

        We got to the bar and went in through the VIP entrance.  “You're a VIP?  Damn, you must be a total slut.” 

        “Fuck you,” I said. 

        “That an offer?” he asked.

        “Absolutely,” I countered.  The staff, seeing us dressed up, sensed this was a big deal, and rolled out the red carpet for us. 

        Bruno came up himself to welcome us.  “Bruno, this is my good friend, Max.  Max, this is Bruno.  He owns this place.” 

        “I own part of it,” Bruno said and smiled at me.  “Marcel bailed me out and kept us in business.  He's a great guy.”

        “Yes he is,” Max said, winking at me. 

        Bruno left us.  “What is it?” I asked him.

        “What do you mean?”

        I looked at him.  “You seem so confident, so self-assured tonight.  It's really exciting, and really attractive.” 

        He blushed and grinned, his adorable shyness coming through.  “I told Lark I was going out on a date with you.  He asked me if we were through, and I told him we were.” 

        “Congrats,” I said, and grasped his hand.  “That's terrific.  So did he move out yet?” 

        “No.  He says he's staying there.  That's a dilemma.  I mean, the rent is due now, so if I don't pay it they'll eventually evict him, but that's not really fair.  So I need to go toss him out.  I just didn't want to do that tonight.” 

        “I'm glad you did not.  I wanted to have a nice evening.  Do not worry about him.  I will go home with you tomorrow.” 

        He grinned at me.  “And where am I supposed to stay tonight?” 

        “You could stay with me,” I offered nervously.  I swallowed hard.  “Max, I know I fucked things up last time.  I moved too fast, scared you away.  As wonderful as it was, if I could go back in time and take it back, I would.  I liked having you with me.  I'd like having you with me tonight, even if we're fully clothed.”  He just stared at me, a twinkle in his eye.  “But if you want to, you can sleep in the guest room.  It's comfortable, or so they tell me.” 

        “You gave me strength with what you said this morning,” he said, changing the subject.  “You made me realize that I’d finally had enough.  I make decent money, but I have credit card bills from hell, I can barely afford my rent, I have no money, and my car is a piece of shit.  All because he bleeds me dry when he comes to town.  I can't believe I've been this stupid.  God, what an idiot I am!”  He smacked his own head violently.

        “You're not an idiot Max.  You're a loving, giving person.  He took advantage of you.”  I paused and sighed, and changed the subject.  “Lou came to see me a couple of weeks ago.” 

        That got his interest.  “What happened?” 

        “I gave him a thousand dollars and made him promise to get out of my life, but I went out with him, to this place.  First time I was ever here.” 

        He frowned.  “So this place has special meaning for the two of you?”

        “No, not at all.”  I told him about my encounter with Bruno, or the dancing part at least.  “I took Lou home and we had great sex, and when I woke up in the morning he was gone, along with $700 more, and my watch.” 

        “Why are you smiling?” he asked.

        “The watch was a Rolex.  A fake one.”  He thought about that and started cracking up with me.  “Only people like us, who have been used and abused, could laugh at that.”

        “So true,” he said.  “I wish I could see the look on his face when he tries to pawn it.”

        “That's what I thought,” I told him.  “But when he left this time, we both knew it was over for good.  I'd cut a deal with him to leave, and he took it, and then fucked me over one more time.  He will not be back.  And if he comes back, my door is closed to him.” 

        “You make me feel strong and determined to take control of my own life,” he said.

        “Have you not already done that?  The rest is just clean up.  And I will help you with that.” 

        He shook his head.  “It may get ugly.  I don't want you to get involved, to get hurt.” 

        I waved my hand at the bar.  “If you do not think we can handle him together, we will take a posse with us.” 

        “You're not responsible for solving my problems,” he said earnestly.

        “No, but I'd like to be a big enough part of your life to help you solve them,” I told him, and meant it.

        “I feel like I'm always trying to slow you down,” he said.

        “And I'm wondering why you're dragging your feet, what it is about me that you do not like.  What it is about me that scares you, and makes you unwilling to trust me.”  This was one of those statements that I make and wish I wouldn't have.  I could tell by his reaction. 

        “I'm dragging my feet because every time I let myself fall for a guy I get burned.  It happened with Lark.  It happened with Brad.  It could happen with you.”  He seemed closer to tears than anger.

        “Or it could work between us.  Would that not be awesome?  Would that not be beautiful?” 

        He grinned at me.  “Maybe.” 

        “Maybe?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.  “You came like a rocket ship last time we fucked.  Was that not awesome?” I teased. 

        He laughed.  “Sex isn't everything.”

        I got serious again.  “You went out with a guy who said he was straight and you wonder why it turned out bad.  Then you went out with another guy who was trying to get back together with his ex-boyfriend and you wonder why that went bad.  So can we start dating if I come up with some baggage that dooms us as a couple?” 

        “What do you want from me Marcel?  You want to be boyfriends, to just date each other?  That's pretty fast, don't you think?” 

        “Maybe it's fast, but I want to try it.  I think we will be great together.”  I paused, unsure of whether to go on.

        “Go ahead, say it.  What are you thinking?” he prompted.

        “All my life I've imagined there would be a guy that would be the one.  The one guy who would be my partner, who would be strong where I was weak and weak where I was strong.  He would complete me, make me whole.  That one guy who would make life worth living, that I could share everything with.  And I've been looking hard for that one guy, knowing that if he was out there, we'd find each other.  But I have not found him yet.  He's either too young, or too old, or too fucked up, or too uptight.  But I keep looking.” 

        “So what does that have to do with me?” he asked.

        “It has to do with you because I think you could be that guy.  I am not sure yet, and neither are you, but I am willing to roll the dice and gamble on it.  I'm willing to take the risk to find out.  Are you?”  He stared at me, his eyes opaque.  I couldn't read them. 

        “That's a lot to drop on a guy,” he said.  “I'm pretty full, how about you?” 

        I looked down at my empty plate.  “Yeah, I've had enough to eat.” 

        “Then let's go home.”

        “You do not want to dance or anything?” I asked, devastated.  Shit.  I'd blown it again. 

        “No, I want to go home.  To your place.  Let's hang out there.”  I gave him a radiant smile at that. 

        “OK.”  I paid the bill and we took the car back to my condo.  We made small talk on the way, looking at the beautiful city that was our home now.  We got to the condo and took the quick elevator ride up to the 20th floor. 

        “Mind if I use your bathroom?” he asked.  I shook my head and he headed to the one in my bedroom.  I dinged around in the kitchen, making us drinks.  It had been about 20 minutes and he still hadn't come out, so I went to check up on him.

        I walked into my bedroom and there he was, lying on my bed, stark naked, on his right side, his left leg propped up.  “I'm willing to take the risk,” he said simply. 

        I stripped off my clothes, sensing his mood, and going slowly, not taking my eyes off his body for a minute.  God, he was perfect.  I smiled at his dick, a good six inches, poking out from his nice blond bush of pubes.  I headed over to the bed and slid up next to him, me on my back, with my arm behind him, while he lay on his side.  His hand touched me gently, feeling me, exploring me, starting with my abdomen, working his way up to my nipples, and then up do my cheek.  He turned me to him, leaned in and kissed me.  It was so gentle, so meaningful, so erotic.  I found I was lying there shaking.  “You cold?” he asked.  Now he was relaxed, he'd let himself go, and his bedroom voice was incredibly sexy.

        “No, I'm just really excited, really turned on.  You do not know how bad I want to be with you,” I told him sincerely. 

        “Good thing that you are then,” he said, teasing me, flashing me the killer smile.  I leaned up and kissed his dimple, then flicked it with my tongue.  That made him giggle, which made the dimple even bigger.  He got back at me by tickling me, so we ended up rolling around on the bed until he was on top of me, his eyes met mine, and the connection, the feeling was so powerful, it just sucked me into his kiss like a vortex.

        Even now, with our passion fully aroused, he forced me to go slow and easy.  He was on top of me, pinning me down, grinding against me ever so slowly, while he kissed my mouth, then my neck, then behind my ear, my Adam’s apple. 

        I gave into him then, just responded to his touches, let him take control, while I just wrapped my arms and legs around him, wrapping him up with my body.  Somehow he managed to grab the lube in an amazingly smooth maneuver and I felt his slicked up hand on my cock.  Then he adjusted his legs so now he was straddling me.  He kissed and sucked on my neck, moaning and whimpering as he lowered his ass down on me slowly. 

        And then I was in, back inside him, back to the place I longed to be.  My feelings for him surged forward, leaping ahead like crazy, way beyond where I wanted them to be, but I had fallen for this guy hard, and now he was taking me into orbit.  He undulated up and down on me, keeping things smooth and easy, until I was too keyed up.  I rolled him over onto his back and bent over him, our faces no more than half a foot apart while I started really fucking him. 

        “You feel so good Max.  You feel so good baby,” I cooed.  “You know I have to cum soon.  I have to.  I cannot stop it; you are so hot, so fucking hot.”

        With one hand he stroked his cock in time to my thrusts; with the other he caressed my face as I felt myself reach the point of no return.  “I'm gonna blow Max.  I'm gonna blow!”  And then I came, one of those orgasms that are life changing, that brighten up the whole world.  I blasted into him and felt his ass quiver and shake as he came with me.  I looked down in time to see his second shot rocket toward me and land on my cheek.  And it just made me cum harder.  I didn't think I'd ever stop, I didn't want it to, but finally my orgasm subsided and I froze in position, on top of him with my dick buried in his ass, looking down at the most amazing man I'd ever met, covered with his own cum. 

        I reached up and wiped it off my cheek with my fingers and sucked it into my mouth.  He smiled and blushed, and looked back at me seriously, nervously.  He tasted so good.  Some guys really taste bad, a nasty, bitter taste, but most guys I've blown taste pretty good.  Not Max.  He tasted great.  Like a sweet white wine.  I moved down and began licking his cum up off of his body, slurping it up.  I'd never done this before and actually enjoyed it, but I did this time.  I pulled out of him and moved down his body, sucking the cum out of his pubes, taking his dick in my mouth to squeeze every last drop from it, cleaning him up completely.

        “Wow,” he said when I moved back up and lay on top of him, letting him feel all of my weight.  “No one's ever done that to me before.” 

        “I could not help it.  You taste so good,” I said while I nibbled on his neck, making him giggle. 

        “I'm not talking about that.  I'm talking about how hard you made me cum.  No one has ever done that before.”  I smiled down at him, thanking him for the ego stroke while not entirely believing him.

        Yet I heard myself saying the same thing to him.  “Me either.”  I found that I meant it, so maybe he did too.

        “I'm really sorry that I pushed you away,” he said.  “You just scared me really bad.” 

        “Why would I scare you?” I asked, worried.

        “Because of that, because of how good we are together.  Because of our connection.  Even now I lie here and I feel so vulnerable.” 

        I moved to the side so my mouth was next to his ear.  “You're safe with me Max.  I will not hurt you,” I whispered.  He stiffened, and then grabbed me tight. 

        “I'm hoping you won't.  I guess I'm not used to trusting guys, and it's hard for me to let myself go and actually be happy and carefree.  I'm always waiting for the next shoe to drop.  Like if you meet someone better.”  I felt so sorry for him then, for the insecurities that must be gnawing away at him inside.

        “Max, I've been with a lot of guys.  A lot of guys.  I'm not proud of it, I'm not ashamed of it, it just is.  And I've been in love a couple of times too.  None of those guys, even the ones I loved, made me feel like you just did.  None of them.”  Not even JP, not even Lou, I thought. 

        “Really?” he asked, amazed. 

        “Really,” I told him, and kissed him.  “You thought I was bullshitting when I said I thought you were the one?  I was not.  And it is not just the sex.  It's you, your personality, the way you are so incredibly gorgeous but you act like you're an ugly cow.  The way you smile and blush when I flirt with you, you're an amazing man.” 

        He swallowed hard, and I knew what was going on here.  He'd felt the connection, pushed me away, felt it again and given in, freaked out and pushed me away, and now he'd surrendered.  And he was discovering his feelings for me were a lot stronger than he'd planned.  We just lay there, intertwined, kissing each other, talking, and then kissing again.  I reached down and he was hard again, hard as a rock. 

        “I want you inside me,” I told him. 

        He got a nervous look on his face, then a little smile, and then the nervous look returned.  “I've never done that before,” he said shyly.

        “You've never fucked another guy?” I asked.  He shook his head, embarrassed by his lack of experience.  “That is amazing, so awesome!”  I told him excitedly. 

        “Why is that so awesome?  I feel pathetic,” he said sadly.

        “I get to be your first.  A hot stud like you and you have saved yourself for all of these years.  I get your cherry.  If you want me to, that is,” I said, looking into his eyes. 

        “I want you to,” he said.  I got the lube and handed it to him.

        “Explore,” I said with a leer.  He got a big smile on his face and moved his mouth down my chest to my dick, which he avoided.  At first I thought it may have been because I hadn't really cleaned up from our superfuck, but I soon realized it was just part of his sensual nature.  Then I felt his mouth working my balls, sucking on them.  It wasn't my favorite thing, but it was nice.  I leaned my head back and relaxed, enjoying his attention, and making a mental note to pay more attention to his balls next time. 

        Then his mouth went lower, to my taint.  I felt him exhale through his nose, and I grabbed my legs to give him better access to my ass.  He moved down slowly, so slowly it was maddening.  I'd never been with a lover like him who was so calm and patient.  I felt his breath on my hole, then the tentative flick of his tongue, and then he started working me.  He'd definitely done this before, I thought, smiling, and then I felt uncontrollable moans erupt from my mouth as he probed me. 

        He replaced his mouth with his fingers, gently probing my ass, first with one, then with two.  I felt his fingers lodged in my ass, and felt them explore me expertly; the experience of someone who knew what he liked and tried it on me.  It was wonderful.  I felt shockwaves flash through my body, felt it convulse in sheer erotic bliss.  “God, Max, that feels so good.”  He looked up at me and gave me his cute grin.  I reached out and pulled him to me.  “Come on Max.” 

        He smiled at me, his adorable, heart-melting smile, and lined his dick up with my hole and pushed in slowly and carefully.  He watched my facial expression, stopping when I tensed up, and then moving on when I relaxed, until he was buried inside me. 

        Physically, I felt nice.  Spiritually, having him inside me, looking up at this amazing man as he penetrated me, I was off the scale.  Then he started fucking me, plunging in and out of my ass.  The expression on his face changed to match mine, one of ecstasy, and the feel of his cock as it slid in and out, slamming my prostate, brought my physical feelings to the same peak as my spiritual. 

        We said nothing, we didn't have to.  All of our talking was done with our bodies, our eyes, our faces.  He was getting into it now, alternately grinding into me with his sexy hip movements, or pounding me relentlessly.  I was on the edge, so on the edge, that if he so much as breathed on my cock I'd cum.  And then he came.  I heard his growl, a primal, animal growl, and he reached down and stroked my cock a few times and set me off too. 

        I convulsed with him, writhing around as we came, changing positions, slipping against each other, our bodies dripping with the sweat of our exertions.  And then, just like a thunderstorm that passes, we were done, and there was an incredible calm, an incredible serenity.  He collapsed onto me, his head lying right across my pounding heart, his torso smashing my deflating cock down.  I wrapped my legs around him and stroked his head gently. 

        We sort of dozed off then or at least lay there in a semi-comatose state.  He finally got up and moved up to me and kissed me again.  “You are magnificent,” he said to me.  I beamed at him.

        “No, you are the magnificent one.  That was an amazing experience.  I feel so close to you right now.”  I stroked his face and then pulled him in for a kiss. 

        He pulled away and looked at me nervously.  “I know you've been with other guys, I'm just hoping I was OK.”  I started laughing, laughing so hard I almost cried, but he didn't see the humor.

        “I'm sorry baby,” I said.  “I've fucked a lot of guys, but I've only been fucked by a few guys.  Three to be exact.  You're the fourth.  None of them could compare to you as a lover.  None of them.” 

        “Who were they?” he asked nervously.  He didn't want to know, but he needed to know. 

        “Lou was the first.  He's a great lover; he has all the mechanics down.  JP was the second one, and he's the same way.  But you have them beat by far.”  He stared at me.  He needed more.  “You put feeling into it, I could feel how much you care about me, I could actually feel it Max.  It was amazing.  It was like you were petting my soul.”  That got a huge grin. 

        “Who was the third?”  I gulped and looked away.  “Marcel, I'm not here to judge you.  It's OK.  I'm just trying to get to know you better.” 

        “Bruno.”  I said, and looked at him, waiting for him to act repulsed.  Not that Bruno didn't have his own charisma that made him attractive, but the owner of a gay bar wasn't exactly the kind of guy I think he'd expect to be fucking me.  He didn't bat an eye.  “It was after we danced, he was showing me pictures of his dead boyfriend, and he was hurting so bad.  He just really needed me.  Well, not me, but someone, and I was there.  It was a nice time, and it made me feel good to help him out.” 

        “That was a really nice thing you did,” he said.  “You are a really good person.” 

        “Good enough to trust me with your heart?” I asked.

        “Yeah, that good.”  He kissed me again. 

        “What about you?  How many guys have fucked you?” I asked.

        “Just Brad and Lark,” he said.  “There was a guy in high school that I played around with, and he tried to, but it hurt too much so I stopped him.”

        “Brad was your first?” I asked, amazed.  Brad had a huge dick.  I’d bet the damn thing was almost nine inches long and thick as an arm. 

        “Yeah.  Good thing I was drunk when he did it.”  That made us both laugh.  “Did he fuck you?” 

        “No, he did not.  He and Robbie used to help me out from time to time when we were in Paris, mostly blow jobs.  I did fuck him once, but it was not a good thing.” 

        That piqued his interest.  “Not good?” 

        “No.  I'm ashamed to really talk about it.”  He looked at me, his expression willing me to spill my guts.  I'd never be able to lie to this guy.  “We were out partying and came home drunk.  I was 16,” I said, as if my age was an excuse.  “Brad stripped off his clothes and lay on his bed, waiting for Robbie to come home and fuck him.  He was there, drunk, and I was there, drunk and horny.  I'd seen Robbie fuck him before, so I just did the same thing.  It was great, awesome while it lasted, but afterward I felt like shit.  Especially when Robbie came in and caught me.” 

        “He caught you?  And he didn't kick your ass?”  

        I laughed.  “No, they forgave me.  I learned a lot from them about second chances then, and about fucking around.” 

        “You ever cheat on a boyfriend?” he asked me.

        “Why, you worried that I'm a serial cheater?” I shot back. 

        “No, but I think it's a reasonable question,” he said defensively.

        “Relax Max, you can ask me anything.  If I do not want to answer, I will tell you so,” I said.  “Oh, you wanted me to answer that question?” I teased.  He smacked me playfully.  “I never had a real commitment, an exclusive one, so I never cheated.” 

        “When you and JP were together, you weren't exclusive?”  he asked, surprised. 

        “Not formally.  I mean, we were together, but we never had a commitment.  Besides, I did not cheat with anyone while I was with him.”  I remembered Niko in Moscow then, and had forgotten that I'd let him fuck me too.  It was probably just as well not to mention that.  It was a surreptitious and sleazy encounter, one to commit to the deep dark recesses of my brain.  But if I did, would that be just one little lie, dormant, that would ultimately give me permission to lie more, and more, and more. 

        “What?” he asked, looking at me.

        “I forgot about one guy,” I said.  I had to build this relationship on honesty.  “It was when I was in Moscow.  JP was being a total dick to me, and I got pissed off and went out on the streets to the White House.  I was part of that big crowd, the one rallying behind Yeltsin, and I met some guy who spoke French.  When things got a little crazy and we ran away, he pulled me aside and fucked me.”  He looked at me impassively, no judgment, no guilt.  Then I got it.  He was giving me a chance to purge myself, with no retribution.  He was being my father confessor.  “It was just a heat of the moment kind of thing.”

        “You think if you get mad at me, you'd do that?  Go off with another guy?”  he asked nervously. 

        “I think I might, if there's a revolution going on too,” I said, teasing him.  He chuckled with me.  “Max, I can sit here, well, lie here and promise to be a good and faithful boyfriend, and I think I can do it.  I know you can do it.  But what if one of us does fuck up?  What then?” 

        He thought about that.  “I don't know.  I guess it depends on the circumstances.  If we're going to be together, though, it's important to me that we try to be monogamous.  I don't know why.  I've never had a relationship like that before.  I had to share Brad with Robbie, and Lark with God knows whom.” 

        “Maybe that's why you want a monogamous relationship.  I'm up for that.  As long as you do not cut me off sexually,” I teased. 

        “You lit a fire in me Marcel.  I think you're going to have trouble keeping up.”  He was dead serious about that, and kissed me, with more passion this time. 

        “One thing, one promise we have to make.  If we have sex with anyone else, if we fuck up, we use condoms.” 

        He looked at me.  “You're safe, right?”  It suddenly dawned on him that he'd let me blow into his ass a few times now. 

        “Yeah, I am.  I always use condoms.  Well, except with JP this summer, and with you.  We should get tested though, just to make sure.” 

        He seemed to contemplate that.  “OK, but I trust you.”   


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