An Evening Out

I assented to staying most of the night, mentally checking what time Raymond's night nurse went off duty. Jason accepted that without argument and went to the bathroom to take a shower. "There's a Falcon's game on TV, I think," he said as he padded off. "Something to do before bedtime."

"I thought—" I started to say.

He laughed. "I can fuck you on the sofa while the game is going if we get randy again that soon." The TV was over the fireplace facing the sofa and Jason had come from Atlanta to check out the choir opening in Asheville.

"I'm already randy again," I whispered.

"Of course you are," he answered, full of confidence and knowing he was in control. "See how easy it is now that we've done it?" He already was in the bathroom and turning on the shower.

I gingerly sat up on the side of the bed. I was a bit sore, but gloriously so. It had been several months since I'd had a cock inside me. Raymond was big—one of the reasons I'd gone with him in the first place. In those days, a man's cock size was more important to me than his bank account. Raymond was blessed in both regards, though. But Jason was appreciably thicker and longer. And he certainly knew how to use it. He could be a pro.

He also knew how to tease and seduce.

I went to stand up but was a bit wobbly. I reached my hand out for support and accidentally brushed Jason's wallet off the top of the nightstand. The wine glass he'd made into an ashtray would have gone too, but I instinctively chose that to grab for and save rather than the soft-sided wallet.

Bills and pieces of paper and business cards and all slipped out of the wallet as it fell to the carpet. No condom packet, though. I couldn't help but looking at the stuff as I was putting it back in the wallet. A sudden flash of anger went through me, but then I was struck with understanding. My eyes teared up, but then I shook my head and gave a sigh and a little laugh.

When he came out of the bathroom, a towel tied around his waist, Jason smiled, jerked the towel open, flashed me a shot of his erection, showed me that he was carrying another condom packet, and said, "For later."

"No, for now," I said. "Come here and lay on the bed. We made love to each other last time. You gave me what I needed. I make love to you now."

He raised his eyebrows and gave me a lopsided smile, but he dropped the towel and came over to the bed. He stood there for nearly a minute, in front of me, while I handed his cock and rubbed it on my cheeks and teethed the sides of it. I know he wanted to put it in my mouth, but I teased him with it momentarily.

Than I did make love to him, for the first time without reservation or guilt. I made him sit at the foot of the bed and I knelt before him and gave him a blow job, holding him down with a palm on his belly and my fingers tracing the rays of the sun emanating from his navel. I laced the fingers of my other hand through his balls and squeezed and rolled and distended them as I suck his cock. He rewarded me with low moaning. The balance of control was shifting a bit. I meant for it.

"Do you bust your partner's balls like this?" he croaked.

"No. I never have. This is special, just for you," I said, momentarily taking my mouth off his cock, but only momentarily.

He groaned but he didn't beg me to stop. "You're going to make me cum a bucket load," he said, in a weak voice.

"Yes," I answered.

He could have risen, of course, but he respected the demand of my hand not to let him get up until he'd come in my throat. As he had done with me, I then climbed up the bed to him and shared his cum with him in a kiss.

I had him move up the bed on his back and I covered his body in kisses until he was hard again.

"Do you want to bareback me?" I whispered. "I've had only the one partner for years and we have had no trouble. It's all up to you and how often and when you've—"

"We'd better not," he said.

"You have fucked—"

"I fuck men all the time. Better we use a rubber, but thanks for the offer."

Of course I knew he fucked a lot of men. He was too good at it and to be doing it regularly. I knew what his answer had to be—and I don't know what I would have done if he'd said yes. But I wanted him to know that I was committing to him fully, if only for this fuck.

I crowned him with the third condom, and I straddled his pelvis, facing his head, screwed my passage down on his cock, and rode him and rode him and rode him, arching back, with my fists buried in the mattress at his ankles and bouncing on his cock in long slides just like a male whore working a sugar daddy. I was giving him the best ride in town.

When he'd come again, I just lowered myself on top of him and we dozed off. He wouldn't find out the score of the Falcons game until the next day, and I'd never bother to check up on it.

I woke up at 5:00 a.m., stretched out beside him. He was snoring lightly, still in a very pleasant baritone. I got the clutchy feeling that Raymond was in bed with me because he snored in the same pitch. I quietly got out of bed, dressed, and left the hotel suite. The Residence Inn was only four blocks from Raymond and my apartment, so I walked it. It helped to clear my head and to think about what had happened and why—and where to go from here.

* * * *

I let myself into our apartment and went to the separate bedroom I'd started using at the beginning of Raymond's sickness, when it was really bad with him. It was a large apartment. We had plenty of bedrooms. There would be too many empty ones when he was gone. The last couple of weeks, he was doped up enough that he wasn't restless. I lay with him during the days now sometimes when there was no nurse on duty. Sometimes I told them they weren't needed, but Raymond could afford to have them around the clock and to have everything he needed here in the apartment so he'd never have to go to the hospital again.

We were close to the end. He kept saying we were both close to a new beginning, but, until tonight, I hadn't understood what he meant or been prepared to accept it. I had thought I would just give up sex after he was gone. But after the night with Jason, I knew I wasn't going to do that.

After I took a shower, I changed into a pair of pajamas and went into his room.

"How has he been, Chester?" I asked the night nurse.

"He was restless earlier. He's at peace now. I gave him what the doctor said he could have. He's been murmuring your name, sir."

"I'm here now. Thanks. You can go a little early this morning. I'll sit with him."

"The doctor, he said that you needed—"

"I'm just fine. I've got exactly what I needed yesterday. Everyone was right. I just needed an evening out. I want to sit with him."

The night nurse left, but I didn't sit with Raymond. I stripped off the pajamas, which had been for the night nurse's benefit, slipped under the covers, cuddled close in beside Raymond, and gently enveloped his cock in my hand. I thought he remained asleep, but he hardened up, moved his hips in the rhythm of my slow stroking, had a beatific smile on his face, and came for me.

Afterward, I saw his eyelids flutter, and he whispered, "Thank you, baby," before he went back to sleep. I snuggled closer to him and tried not to cry. I dozed off in exhaustion myself. There had been a sneak attack in the night, a driving doggie fuck that had been rough, including slaps, hard taking, twisted arms, and pulled hair. It had had me strutting on the clouds. Yes, there was a time and there were men who had fucked me rough, and I had loved it. Each way Jason had taken me had reminded me that I was alive and wanted to be alive—and wanted to continue to be fucked.

* * * *

I was at the breakfast bar, eating breakfast, when Aaron called me on my cellphone.

"I hope you had a pleasant evening out, Derek," he said. There was something in his voice that was tentative and questioning. "You seemed to be enjoying yourself at the concert and the party. I think it's what you needed—an evening out."

"Yes, I had a ball, Aaron. And I got balled. Four glorious times. The fourth time a sneak-attack doggie in the middle of the night. I really got laid out that time." I kept an "amused" tone to my voice.

"Excuse me?"

"Jason Ward isn't a Gay Men's Chorus director candidate from Atlanta at all, is he? He's a male prostitute and is from right here in Asheville. I accidentally saw his escort service and stripper services business cards last night. Don't blame him. It was an accident and he doesn't know I saw them."

I heard the intake of breath on the other end. "Listen, Derek. It's not what you think. Well, it is what you think, but there's—"

"It's OK, Aaron. It is what I needed to hold on for the next couple of weeks—and to be prepared to look to the future. I'll feel guilty about it forever, of course. But I know your intentions were—"

"They weren't my intentions, Derek. They were Raymond's. He wanted this. He asked me to help get you laid—and laid good. He's worried about you. He wants to know, Derek. He wants to know before he's gone that you'll let someone take care of your needs when he's gone. Raymond paid for the male hooker. He told me to get the best—not only one who was hung—he was very insistent that the man should be young, muscular, handsome, and hung—but one who could seduce a stone statue. He said he wanted to hear you purring in the morning."

I let that sink in. "Umm, I don't know what to say, Aaron."

"Well, don't say anything to Raymond. He wants nothing said in the open about it. He says you've always been self-conscious by the differences in your ages and that he was keeping you. But he said he couldn't have lived this long without you. He didn't think you should ever know what he did concerning this hooker. I didn't agree, though. I thought you should know so you wouldn't feel guilty about it. And now you do. But Raymond doesn't need to know."

"Well, OK, I guess."

"So, was he good?"

"Yes, he was very good indeed."

"You said . . . four times."

"Yep. Are you jealous?"

"A bit, yes. But, while we're talking, two things, Derek. First, Raymond has paid the escort agency for three more sessions. Fee nonrefundable. He wants me to figure out a way to get you laid periodically until the end, and confidentially, since I'm his lawyer, his will leaving you most of his money specifies that he wants you to spend some of what you get from the estate by bringing a young guy with a big gear shift for you to ride and a problem of needing it once a day into your life and bed the week after he's gone. Those were his words."

I laughed. "Before last night I would have said no way. Right now, though, it's not an idea you need to sell me. You said two things."

"Yeah. Jason Ward has already called in to report on the evening. He said you were great. He's aware you have credit with the escort agency and wanted to be sure I knew he wanted to throw his cock in the ring for more servicing of you."

"OK, thanks, Aaron," I said. "I understand. Thanks for looking after me. I gotta go now."

I disconnected the call and dialed the nursing service. I told them they could cancel the dayshift nurse today, but send one as normal for tonight. Today, I wanted to pamper my man tonight. Tonight, I had other plans.

Then I went looking for my wallet and pulled out the escort service business card I'd swiped when I was putting stuff back in Jason's wallet. I picked up the cellphone again. I hoped Jason wasn't booked for tonight already. I had a sudden hankering for another evening out—one not clouded by a feeling of guilt.

I went in to Raymond after I'd made arrangements—and satisfactory arrangements there were. Jason could get the Residence Inn suite for another night. Raymond was waking up, or close to it as the pain killers were going to permit. He looked at me and smiled and I gave him a smile back. I knew that for the last few weeks I'd only been able to manage a look of concern, which concerned him as well. Today I could manage a genuine smile.

"I thought I'd spend the day with you," I said. I'd taken over running his businesses months earlier. But he had good people on the payroll. I could take a day or two off. We'd always planned for me to take more time off near the end.

"How are you doing this morning, Derek?" he asked. I knew his question had more concern behind it than he was letting on.

"I'm purring, Ray; I'm purring."

His answering smile was radiant. He closed his eyes. I waited until his breathing was as regular as it was going to get and I thought he was asleep. I leaned down and kissed him on the cheek and whispered, "Thank you for the purring, Daddy."

His eyes fluttered. He smiled, slid a gnarled hand along the sheet, and squeezed my hand.