Jim and Chad

On the Friday night before I left, I cornered Robert away from everyone else in the place and said "I'm going on travel for a couple of weeks. Will you keep Chad out of trouble, especially a couple of weeks from now on 'gay Friday'?" Robert assured me he would, but he flashed that killer smile of his and I felt uneasy. "And would you please not fuck him before I get a chance?" I added.

When he saw the seriousness in my face, he got serious as well and responded, "I know what Chad means to you. I would never do anything to screw up your relationship."

Relieved, I added, "Thanks, bud. I owe you."

With that statement, Robert flashed his killer smile again, looked quickly down at my crotch and back up, and said "Paybacks are hell, you know."

I felt a tingling in my crotch and ass from that quick look, and decided to leave before it became too obvious how I'd have to pay him back.

Being away was difficult, but work kept me busy through all waking hours. We were deploying a new, multi-site, multi-million dollar software system and being the technical lead meant I had to be there for everything: the predeployment user meetings, the tiresome meetings with management to endlessly discuss risk management, the actual installation followed by immediate bug fixes, and the closing "training" (aka, gripe) sessions. And this had to happened at three locations, Washington, D.C., Dallas, and Sacramento, so I built up quite a bit of airline miles during those two weeks, too. The trip had been a success, and I came home on the first Sunday in October. I was relieved that everything had gone so well, but was exhausted from the 90 to 100 hour work weeks and weekends. Because I really wanted to see Chad the next day, I went to bed early. Soon I was in one of the deepest and most relaxed sleeps that I had been in for a while.

As I got to work early that Monday, some people had heard about our success and were congratulating me and the rest of the team. The rest of the morning went by quickly with people dropping by and the inevitable e-mail cleanup chore that I was faced with. At lunch I looked around but Chad was nowhere to be found. I asked one of the people in the cube near him, and they said something about Chad taking a vacation. They weren't really sure where or why he'd gone, because he'd left work abruptly the previous Thursday afternoon. After hearing this, I felt kind of selfish. Of all the people in the office, his face was the one I needed to see and his voice was the one I needed to hear. He wasn't here and I felt really empty because of it. I left a couple of messages on his cell phone, but no response. It was almost as if he was avoiding me.

As the days progressed, someone told me that Chad was in the office, but I never heard him and couldn't find him. He seemed to be working in a number of locations both in the office and outside. And then it happened: on Friday afternoon I saw Chad in the parking lot, but instead of coming to see me, he got in his car and drove away. My suspicions about him avoiding me had just been confirmed. I watched helplessly as he turned the corner and drove out of sight. I barely made it to my car before losing it. Luckily no one came out of the building during that time, so I didn't have to explain why I was crying even though I'd had a successful past few weeks. Without Chad in the picture, not much else really mattered.

As I walked into the club later that night, Robert spotted me and saw the rotten mood written all over my face. He looked at the schedule and said, "You have Court 7 tonight with me as your racquetball partner. Chad called and said he wouldn't be in tonight." When he looked up again, he saw the beginning of tears in my eyes and said "Go on in, I'll be there in a couple of minutes." As I waited for Robert, my mind raced through thoughts about why Chad was acting the way he was. It all led back to what Robert had probably said. When Robert arrived, I asked him to tell me what he had told Chad the previous week. He had told Chad about "gay Friday", the first odd numbered Friday of each month where management turned a blind eye to the "No Sex in This Building" rules. He told Chad that good-looking guys were hit on heavily by other guys on those nights and that he might want to stay away. Robert had also added that if Chad ever wanted to "experiment" with another guy, then Chad should let him know so that he could arrange it with someone they both knew. After Robert's last statement, I suddenly realized that I was the only person common to both of them. Neither had traveled in the other's social circle until they met at the club, so in one statement Robert had let Chad know that I was at least bisexual, if not gay. As I slowly began to boil from that revelation, I asked him, "When did you tell Chad this?" Robert responded, "It was during the day on . . . I believe it was Thursday afternoon of last week."

It was at that point I lost it and did something really stupid: acting on sheer anger, my 6'1" 205 pound, nicely-muscled older body pushed and pinned a 6'3" 235 pound, well-tuned, very muscular, younger body up against the wall. I was beyond pissed, and starting yelling at Robert about how he had cost me a really close friendship. I yelled that Chad has been avoiding me all week and drove away when he saw me today. I yelled that I should somehow make him hurt for this, because I hurt so bad from it all. With my last statement, I saw the look on Robert's face change from shock and sadness to anger. Within a second, I found myself being pushed around and back against the wall, all so quickly that it took my breath away. While pinning my arms to the wall, Robert moved down within about two inches of my face and hissed, "You don't know half the pain I've been going through watching you two these last couple of months. You don't see me anymore. You don't have time to be with me anymore. I hurt but I cover it up because I know you're probably the happiest you've ever been. So don't tell me that I should be hurt because of this. I am already hurting."

After a few seconds of trying to understand what he had said and meant, my face and eyes must have told him that I was sorry because he loosened his death grip on my arms. I quietly said, "Sorry, bud. I never knew. I thought we got together only for the sex."

Robert let go of me, turned away, and responded quietly, "It was only the sex until I saw how happy you and Chad were all of last month. Then thinking back to July made me realize that I wanted more than just sex."

After a few moments, I walked up behind Robert and scratched his back for a while. At this point in our relationship, I knew him well enough to know that it was one of the most calming influences on his psyche. Then I wrapped my arms around him and said, "If it doesn't work out with Chad, I'd like to see where our relationship might go. But all the women here will really be disappointed."

He responded quietly, "Fuck 'em."

I responded in a joking manner, "Hmmmm, haven't you already done that?"

I paused waiting for the chuckles which came through about four or five seconds later. Robert then broke away from me, turned around and laughingly said, "Damn you! You always make it so difficult to stay angry." After a longer pause, he looked straight into my eyes and continued in a calmer tone. "But I have to say one more thing, even though I don't really want to. You have to give Chad some time and some space. He'll come around. I know because I found out quickly that he and I are similar. We share common interests. And we're the types that always come back to you because you're always there. We can depend on that no matter what else happens. So no matter how hard we try, we can never seem to find a way to get over you."

I was stunned by what I had just heard, and I'm sure my face showed it, too. When I was finally able to answer I said "I'm not sure I know what to say."

Robert looked away and responded, "You don't have to say anything. It'll all work out somehow." After another few moments, he looked at me and said, "So, are we going to play this game or what?"

After about an hour of playing a single game, we had to stop at a 28-28 tie. The ball had remained in play for 10 to 15 hits per serve, and each of us had run the other ragged. Usually Robert won, but his game seemed a little off that night. Before we left the court, I asked "Are we good?"

Robert looked at me, smiled that huge grin of his, and quietly said "Yeah, we're good."

I put my hand in the middle of his chest and said, "If it doesn't work out with Chad within a couple of months, we really will have to see where our relationship goes."

Robert looked me straight in the eyes and said "Count on it."

Over the next couple of weeks, I kept busy and away from Chad. It pained me to do so, but he didn't seem to want to have anything to do with me. I heard his voice in the area every now and then, but I never made any effort to go see him. Unfortunately, he never came to see me either, and this further saddened me. Luckily, I was also out on travel some of that time, so the pain was diverted to work. The customer already wanted changes to the system we had just installed and I was required to accompany those changes. The long weeks and weekends were beginning to drive me a little crazy, especially with no exercise and no other release for that matter. There never seemed to be enough time or energy for either.

Finally during the first week of November, I was able to slack off and work a normal 40 hour week. On Wednesday afternoon I got a peculiar voice mail from Robert who said he had someone he wanted me to meet. When I called him back later that night, he gave me the details. The guy was a virgin and needed someone gentle to break him in. I laughed as Robert gave the details, and then asked him why he didn't do it. Robert said that this guy was a good friend and he'd never be able to face him again if he did. I hesitated, but Robert pushed. I hesitated again, but after a month of not hearing anything from Chad, I finally relented. I asked Robert if the guy had seen a doctor and Robert said that he was looking at an all-negative test sheet. Then I asked about the guy's looks. Robert laughingly said "He's good looking, but of course not as good looking as me." Robert then quickly added, "You need to prep yourself on Friday, so leave work early. Also, take a nap. You'll need it to keep up with this guy. I'll make sure he knows how to get prepped as well. He'll be there about 9pm, but if he doesn't show by 9:30, come to the club and we'll plan to get together as soon as I can leave." Soon thereafter, we said goodbye to each other and hung up the phone. I was then left to wonder what I was about to get myself into.

Friday

Because of the recent double workload, I planned to take off Friday afternoon and all of Monday to "recuperate" as I told people. Little did they know what I had really planned. About 2pm that afternoon, I began to doubt the sensibility of doing what Robert had asked me to do. So I called him and told him that I was going to have to cancel and to apologize to his friend. After a few moments of silence, Robert told me that I couldn't cancel, that everything was already in motion. After a couple more exchanges between the two of us, Robert outright said, "You'd be a fool to back out of this, and after looking back on it, you'd really hate yourself for backing out of an agreement to do this." Robert had played my trump card: I always did what I agreed to do whether or not I really liked it. I finally relented again and Robert assured me that I would have an enjoyable weekend. As I hung up the phone, all I could think of is that I wouldn't be able to stand this "newbie" for the night, much less the entire weekend.

With no excitement, I did the full-enema cleanout procedure. I hated the way it tasted and what it did to my bowels, but I always did the first time with a person so that there were no "intestinal surprises." After my bowels settled down, I lay down for a nap. I glanced at the clock and it was around 4:30pm. I figured that I'd sleep for about thirty minutes, have a little food and then work until this guy came by.

I drifted off into a restful but mentally active sleep. I had several dreams about Chad, none of which helped my mental state about the situation. When I woke up, I looked at the clock and it said 7:45pm. After a moment, I mentally said to myself "Oh shit" as I realized that I had overslept and still had to take a shower and get other things ready.

At 8:30, I finally put on my jock strap, gym shorts, t-shirt, and sweat pants. I was ready for whoever this guy was, and if he didn't show up, I was also ready to go to the club. Just as I was finished getting ready, the phone rang. I let it ring and then looked at the Caller ID. It was Chad's cell phone number. Trying to calm my jitters, I answered and asked "Hey, what's up?"

Chad flatly stated, "Uhhh, we need to talk. It'll take only about five minutes. I'm in your parking lot. Can I come up?"

I responded, "I'm expecting someone at 9. Can we have this conversation another time?"

"No, it has to be now or never."

Since he had given me an ultimatum, I finally decided it was probably better to get this over with now rather than to drag it out. After a pause, I responded quietly, "Sure. Come on up."

I hung up the phone and walked to the front door about the time Chad topped the stairs in the condo lobby. Along with his workout bag, he was carrying a beer can which I thought was odd. But for this confrontation maybe he needed the beer as much as I did, and it made me wish I had drunk one. As always, Chad looked good in his sweats. I was always entranced by his looks, but this time that feeling was combined with another: sorrow that this would be the last time I would see him this way.

Since he wasn't staying long, he dropped the workout bag by the front door and kept his coat on as we walked to the kitchen table. We sat down around it, him on one side and me on the end. Not too close, but not too far away either. He set his beer down in front of himself and asked if I had reading glasses. (Middle age and computer monitors are hell on the eyes.) I got up and pulled a pair off the nearby kitchen counter. Immediately after retrieving the glasses and sitting back down, Chad asked "When were you going to tell me about you and Robert?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean the sexual relationship that the two of you have," he responded.

I had hoped that he would start with some small talk first, but with the question and tone of voice, he obviously he wanted to get this over with quickly. Unfortunately, I've never been able to hide from any question about sex, so my blushing face confirmed that I had such a relationship with Robert. After a few seconds I responded quietly, "Probably never. I never really expected you to find out because you're straight. If I had told you, it would have destroyed our friendship, a friendship that I value highly. I'm sorry if this offends you, but what Robert and I do together is really a private matter. Why do you ask?"

Chad paused for a few seconds as if trying to decide something, then he pulled a folded-up piece of paper from his coat pocket. He said, "If I had known, maybe I would have done this sooner." At the same time he spoke, he slid the paper over to me.

The moment I had dreaded had just arrived. I thought it was probably a court order that Chad was giving me to let me know I should stay away from him permanently. I put on my reading glasses and unfolded the paper. As I looked at it, though, I had to reorient my thoughts. This looked like some sort of a list . . . a list of tests for different types of . . . venereal diseases and AIDS. I was shocked by what I was looking at, and it must have shown because Chad reached over and pushed my jaw up to close my mouth. I felt myself blush again, then the blood drained out of my face, and I began to shake. He must have seen the effect that this was having on me because he chuckled, pushed his beer over to me and said, "Looks like you need this more than I do."

The swig of beer helped shock me back to reality, whatever that may have been at that moment. I finally regained my composure and began to think through all that I had just seen and heard. Still not quite grasping the situation, I looked over at Chad, who had an incredibly wicked grin on his face. After a few moments, he added, "And Robert sends his regards."

Finally realizing that I had been set up, Chad and I had a good laugh. I asked, "So, how long have you and Robert been planning this?"

"I went to him a little over two weeks ago to find out what I needed to do. We planned this down to me asking for you to get reading glasses." He paused and then added, "He also told me some things about your relationship."

I blushed and looked away from Chad's eyes. "How much?" I asked.

"Not too much." After a short pause, Chad added, "But he says that he loves you."

"It was just sex for him until he saw you and me together in September," I responded. I looked up to catch Chad's eyes, just about the time he lowered his. He then looked back up to meet my eyes. After a few moments of looking at each other, we both looked away. We both had just realized that the joke was over and the reality of what we were about to do was here. I shifted uneasily in my chair. "Are you sure want to go through with this?" I asked.

After what seemed like an eternity, Chad responded quietly, "Yes and no. Yes, because I'm curious and Robert has told me how good it can feel, and no, because of how painful it might be."

I waited and then responded. "Well, it will be painful at first, but as we get used to each other, I think you will find it . . . enjoyable, uh, really enjoyable. Fucking a good looking guy, like you, and getting fucked by that same guy always turns me on, but unfortunately most guys don't seem to believe that until they've felt it personally. So no matter what I say, it won't make much difference until you've actually experienced it for yourself."

"Robert told me you made a policy of being on the giving end instead of the receiving end of the first fuck." After a few seconds, Chad added, "Why is that?"

I took a deep breath, sighed, and explained what had happened. "One of my college roommates and I experimented some. We agreed that whatever one did, the other would get to do, too. So I let him do me first. After that painful first time, it was time for me to do him. He begged off saying that I was too big for him, and it would be too painful for him since he was so tight. I was still naive and trusting at 19, and a couple of weeks later, I let this happen a second time. When he asked a third time, I kneed him in the groin and told him 'No' until he let me do him. He never raised the possibility again. Luckily the semester ended a couple of weeks later, and I never had to have him as a roommate again. After that experience, I vowed that I'd never again get fucked first."

After hearing that, Chad simply said "Ouch." After a short time, he said, "I have a second question."

"Shoot," I said.

"Why did I have to drink all that stuff that made me shit everything out? That was probably one of the most painful, and messy, experiences of my life," Chad said.

I paused and then explained, "It cleans you out so there are no 'intestinal surprises,' as I call them, to ruin the situation. I know it tastes bad and it's painful, but for our first time together it's better that you're all cleaned out. As time goes on, condoms are what we'll use, but for a first time, this is better. Just to let you know, I've done the cleanout as well so there's nothing in me either. I know it's rough, but I think you see why as we go through the weekend."