Borderline Ch. 01byvelvetpie©
* * * * *
Click Here to listen. (4 min/RealMedia)
You need the free Real Player to listen to this file.
* * * * *
I hadn't seen Chris in years. Last time I'd seen him, he was a nearly three hundred pound linebacker, heading off to college while I stayed in Biloxi, toiling my youth away in my father's manufacturing company. I married, later found out that I was gay and divorced amicably. Sharon said that she'd had an inkling that I was queer but she wanted me to figure things out for myself. When I did, we remained the closest of friends, choosing to stay in the same home and share our lives with our various other partners.
Lately, I'd been on my longest dateless streak and the call from Chris had my brain wrapped around the perfect biceps that I remembered and my fingers ached to stroke his perfect six pack. We agreed to meet at his hotel's bar and he was nursing a Miller Lite when I arrived. He gave me a long, silent hug, then ordered a Captain Jack and Coke for me.
"Long time no see, stranger. How have you been?"
The Chris sitting across from me was markedly different from the one I'd known. He seemed dark and moody, changed by what he'd seen in the world. "Paul, are you still gay?"
"Uh, yeah, Chris. The only thing that's changed about me has been my hair line."
He didn't even smile at my lame joke. The old Chris would have. "I need to ask you a favor."
"Sure. Just ask."
"I need you to help me find out if I'm gay."
"You need me to ... " I stopped and stared at him. "Chris, are you serious?"
He shook his head, unable to make eye contact with me. "Yes."
"Do I have to explain myself to you, Paul? I thought you'd understand ... "
"I do understand, Chris. It's just ... I've never heard you say anything about being gay before."
"I didn't say that I was!" He snapped, then took a deep breath, rapidly downing his beer and signaling for another. "I just ... I just need to know."
"Well, I don't know what to tell you because there isn't really a test, per se."
"I want you to have sex with me."
"What's that going to prove?"
"That I either like cock or I don't."
I stared at him for a minute, wondering where the hell this was coming from. "Order us a bottle of Jack and some Cokes and have them send it up to your room." I slid off the stool and gathered my jacket, heading for the elevator. I stopped when I noticed that he hadn't moved. "Are you coming?"
Chris placed the order and we headed upstairs. His suite was huge and opulent, the direct opposite of Chris who seemed lost and detached. I tossed my jacket on the chair and kicked my shoes off.
"Get comfortable. I won't do anything till the booze comes." Chris dropped his boots in the corner and flicked the TV on, flipping through the channels until he found the news. Room service arrived a few seconds later and I poured us two stiff drinks, joining him on the bed. "Now, talk to me. Tell me what's behind all this."
I waited for him to speak and was quite amazed when he poured out a tale of having confusing feelings about his teammates. The questions began in high school and he'd pushed them away, ignoring them and hoping that they would disappear with his maturation. When they didn't, he began to seek out texts in the library concerning homosexual feelings to try to understand what was going on in his head. But books didn't help and staying away from handsome men didn't solve the problem of the feelings running rampant through him.
So he'd decided to seek me out, the only person he knew that was gay and could possibly help him but he had no idea what to do. "And you think making love to me will answer your questions?"
He thought about my question and shrugged. "I don't know, Paul."
"Well, why don't we start with the basics? After all, you don't learn to swim by jumping in the deep end."
I set my drink down and leaned over, kissing his mouth. He jerked away, his eyes filled with equal parts fear, confusion and anger. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Kissing you, you jerk, or at least trying to. When I have sex, I don't just stick my dick in someone's ass. Homosexuals enjoy foreplay, too."
"I never thought of that." Chris set his own drink down and faced me with a deep breath. "Okay. Let's try that again."