A Misdirection of Affection Ch. 01

I raised one eyebrow and smiled suggestively, "Are there any questions I might be tempted to skip?"

"I don't think so...just simple stuff- family, history, memories. It's just for fun, to keep conversation going. I tried to think of things we haven't talked about."

Reaching my fingers out to the deck, I said, "Well let's jump right in, then."

Looking at the handwritten card, I read to myself, What's your most prized possession? I decided to ask Ian that one.

"Easy," he replied. "My recliner."

"You have a recliner?"

He blushed a little. "Yeah, I know, it's weird. My grandpa used to have one, and when I was little, he would read me stories in that chair while I sat on his lap. And he would tell me stories of our family, stories from the news, that sort of thing. I loved listening to his stories. He, uh...he died when I was 12. My grandma had died a few years before him, so after he died, the house and all its stuff got split up among their kids. I really wanted that recliner, but I didn't say anything. I later found out it had been taken to Goodwill or something. I was pretty upset. But I decided to get my own recliner. I started saving all my money and did yard work around the neighborhood- typical teenage boy stuff. And after a year, I had enough to buy a recliner."

"So it reminds you of your grandfather?"

"I guess. But it also reminds me of the hard work I put into getting it. And the danger of not speaking up for what you want. And it reminds me of how I felt on his lap- safe and loved."

"That must be some recliner!"

Ian rolled his eyes at my joke, "It's not the recliner- it's...it's all the...associations."

I tried to look thoughtful, but my mind was stuck on something he had said. Something I wanted to remind him of later.

Meanwhile, Ian had pulled out the next question, narrowed his eyes in thought, then read, "Do people say you are more like your mom or more like your dad?"

I wanted to skip it. Before I could answer, he followed up his question by saying, "Not physically, of course. You look a lot like a smaller version of your mom. But personality-wise." I knew he was right. I was a shorter, skinnier version of my mom. If we ever styled out hair similarly, we might pass for sisters, except people usually assume I'm a lot younger than I actually am.

"My dad, I think."

"How so?"

"Well, he had...has a temper, like me. He goes after what he wants. He's very practical- not romantic or a dreamer." And not giving Ian a chance to follow up on that, I reached out for the next card.

We got through 9 or 10 questions before our food came, and we were enjoying it so much that we stayed at the table after we finished eating and worked our way through another 15 cards. Who was your childhood hero? Favorite holiday tradition? Most embarrassing moment? The best teacher you've ever had? And so on. I was impressed- Ian had managed to think of a way to keep the conversation going the whole evening and effectively control what we talked about.

By the time he was paying the bill, I realized I hadn't been putting my plan into effect. I had kept my feet to myself under the table. I hadn't been reaching out to touch his hands. I hadn't been making suggestive comments. I had been outwitted. Ian wasn't clueless- he was very, very smart.

Walking back to the car, I asked if he had anything else planned.

"Well...not really. I thought we could go to The Noggin Shop and hang out, if you wanted..."

"No...that doesn't feel special. We always go there. Take me somewhere that I can see the stars you keep talking about."

He looked at me quizzically, not breaking his stride, and asked, "Really?"

Pinching the sides of my dress and swirling it around a little, I looked over at him and said, "Yes, really. If my friend is going to be flying up there someday, I'd like to know more about where he's going."

He laughed at that and put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in for a short side hug while we walked.

"I know just the place," he promised.

*******

"You're kidding," I said as we pulled into the parking lot.

"Nope. Definitely not kidding. They don't have any lights here because, well, who comes to a cemetery at night? It's got the best night view in town."

"Well, I'm not getting out of the car. Can we just stay in here?"

"Of course. It's to chilly to stay out there, anyway."

"It's getting chilly in here, too," I lied, wrapping my arms around myself.

"Oh, let me see if I have..." he reached to the backseat and moved things around. "No, sorry. No jacket or anything."

"That's OK, we'll make do," I said, leaning into him while his arm was still behind us. Worked like a charm.

"Do you want me to get more questions out?" he asked quietly.

"No. Just tell me about the stars."

He proceeded to point out some of the more significant stars and some of the constellations I had heard of. He showed me a few constellations he said his sister had named (I particularly liked the Goofy Giraffe). He shared facts about how far away the stars were and how long they had lived. But he almost sounded like he was telling stories, not listing facts. I closed my eyes and listened for a while. Then I made my move.

First, I put my hand on his chest while he was talking. Then, after a minute, I slid down to his stomach. Then, when he was in the middle of a story about some satellite or something that was at the edge of our solar system, I slid my hand down into his pants.

Ian froze, mid-sentence. I slipped into his briefs and wrapped my hand around his warm, soft member. Ian closed his eyes and said, "Dessi? Dessi what are you doing?"

"Shhhh...I'm thanking you for being a good friend."

I smiled to myself as I felt him harden in my hand.

"Can you unbuckle yourself for me?" I asked softly. Ian didn't move. I shifted so my free hand could open his buckle and unbutton his pants. Ian tried to stop my hands, but I pushed his hands away. He didn't resist much.

"Dessi, I don't think you should be..."

"You don't want me to touch you?"

"It's not...I mean I like..."

"Are you telling me you want this to end?" I kept my voice soft. I was aiming for sultry, but as long as he was on the edge of freaking out, I added a heavy dose of soothing to my voice.

"I...no...but, I'm confused...and I..."

"There's nothing to be confused about. Let me do this. Remember what you said earlier about the danger of not going after what you want? Well...I want to do this. You want this. We can both be happy. "

All the while, I continued to stroke him, having pulled his solid tool out through the front of his briefs. I figured that, despite his objections, his hormones would be fine with it. Ian kept his eyes closed and opened his mouth a bit, gasping at the sensations.

"Ian, has anyone ever..." He shook his head silently and slowly. I moved around a bit so that I could use both hands without needing to put too much weight on Ian. It was awkward positioning, as is usually the case in the front seat of a car, but Ian didn't seem to notice. It had only been a few minutes of a hand job, but if it was the first time anyone had touched him in this way, I imagined he would be finishing soon.

My suspicions were confirmed when his breathing sped up. He kept lifting his hands, starting to put them on top of mine or trying to replace mine, but he always pulled away, letting me do what I was doing so well without him. His hips began lifting up in time with my motions and he suddenly gasped a worried sounding, "Dessi? Dessi, I'm going to..."

And that was my cue to avoid any mess. I had just the right angle to lower my mouth over the crown of his cock and tap his tip with my tongue. Gripping just a bit tighter with my hands, I pushed all the way down to his base. He came as I sucked his head. I held his load in my mouth until he was done. The taste is something I'd gotten used to, and I've learned how happy it makes guys to see me do that.

I swallowed quietly while Ian was still recovering, then used my mouth to give him a quick clean-up. Tucking him back into place as he softened, I zipped and buttoned his pants and rebuckled his belt. If anyone had looked in on us at that moment, they would have seen no sign of anything suspicious, save for Ian's inscrutable expression. His eyes still closed, his brow furrowed, his mouth open while he caught his breath, I sat back to see how he would react.

"Dessi, you shouldn't have done that."

I was hurt, but opted to sound happy and playful. "I didn't hear you telling me to stop. If you're not happy, I can try again until it feels good."

"No...no, I'm sorry, it's not that. It felt...really good. Really, really good. That's the first time I've...no one's ever...but, I feel rotten."

"Well then, I definitely did something wrong. Do you want me to try again?" I jokingly reached for his belt.

"Dammit Dessi, I'm being serious here!" I started to think he was actually mad at me. But then his tone softened. "I'm sorry, I just...I feel bad if I led you on. I didn't mean to. I thought we were here as friends. I'm sorry if I wasn't clear. I'm really sorry. I don't want to hurt you."

"Ian, friends can still...do stuff. And maybe this could be the path to more than friends. Or not. I don't regret making you happy."

"You don't understand. I'm just not sure you should feel that way about me. It's really nice being friends with you, Dessi- you're very important to me."

I was confused and getting more hurt. This wasn't one of the ways I had seen this night going. Rejection, yes. Acceptance and passionate fucking, yes. But this confusing, "you're important and special and stay away from my penis" idea was not something I was prepared for.

"Can't you just accept a good thing Ian? Is there something wrong with me? Something you don't like? My boobs aren't big enough? I'm too short? Too skinny? Too slutty?" I was angry that I was having to hold back tears.

"No, no, no, no...Dessi stop. You are a gem, a treasure. I don't deserve you. You're a, a very beautiful girl...woman. I feel horrible that I may have led you on and made you think..." he paused and closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath he reached out and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. Bowing his head and not opening his eyes, he said flatly, "Dessi, I think I might be gay."

*******

"Ian was gay?" Gina stared at the woman next to her in disbelief. With crows feet showing around the edges of her eyes and her body looking more plump than petite, she didn't look much like the young woman from her story. But her eyes lit up when she talked about Ian, and that was a shared connection between her and Gina.

"Well, yes. Kind of. It was complicated. He was going through this confusing, delicate process, and I had stepped in and started shaking things up. You have to understand, Gina, this was 20 years ago, and being gay and coming out was even more difficult and confusing than it is today. There was no one to talk to, no footsteps to follow in, no support..."

"Yeah, but...how come I never knew...or my parents, do they know?"

"Oh, hell no! Can you imagine your dad's reaction? Or your mom's? No, he wasn't going to tell them for a long time, not until he was more sure of some things. And as for you...he wasn't going to try to explain that to you when you were 10 years old. How much did you even know about sex when you were that old?"

"You're right," Gina admitted. "That would have been weird, given what I did and didn't know."

"He loved you so much, Gina. He would talk about you. He made me wish I had an older brother like him." Both women were smiling as the tears formed in their eyes.

"Thank you, Dessi. Thank you for telling me. I feel sad that I didn't know about what he was going through. I'm glad he at least had you to talk to. Did you see him much after that?"

"Oh my, yes. But I've got kids I need to get home to. Are you around for a few days? Can we meet tomorrow and talk?"

"I was planning on leaving tomorrow morning, but let me check with my husband. We've got four of our own, but my Andrew is a champ. If he's OK watching them another day, I'll stay."

Gina stepped away and made a phone call while Dessi stood up and took another look at Ian's grave. She kissed her fingertips and touched them to the name engraved on the tombstone. Wiping away a tear, she looked up to see Gina walking back.

"I just had to tell him it was about Ian and he told me to stay the whole weekend if I needed to."

"Sounds like a special guy.," Dessi smiled.

"Yeah, and he knows he'll probably get the ride of his life when I get back, so..."

The two women laughed like old friends, then chatted as they walked to their cars, which were side-by-side in the parking lot. Dessi opened her door, then paused, turned towards Gina, and said, "There's a lot to tell, Gina. I'll have to think about it tonight and trim it down to the essentials." She paused with her mouth ready to speak again, then looked up as if she was debating something in her head. Finally, she looked back at Gina and said, "We'll talk tomorrow."