Juan Gets Mace(d)

We'd have kept at it, but my cock went limp. With Pipi out, so was I.

I felt worse in the morning than I had after fucking Timmy at the bar. He was asleep, and he looked like a little boy. I realized I had used this vulnerable kid to try to reclaim myself, and it had been a very selfish and self-centered act.

It was also counterproductive. I wanted Timmy to go away, and fucking him senseless was not going to achieve that want.

I made it worse by taking him to brunch with Avery and Bruce. I knew it was a bad idea, but I felt like shit about everything I had done to the poor kid the night before.

He was out of his league and clearly uncomfortable at brunch. He insisted he was 18, but I was seriously doubting it. He seemed too naive.

I dropped him back at his car after brunch. He grabbed paper out of his glove compartment and wrote his number down.

"Call me," he said, holding it out to me.

I refused to take it. "Look, kid, I'm not taking that. I'm not going to call you. I'm not going to pretend I will."

"Fine," he said. "But, if you don't call me, I'm not going to let you fuck me."

"I hope not."

Chapter Six

Christmas was bearing down on us, and I was vexed by what to get Mace. I needed a home run, and I was a poor gift giver at best. I enlisted Avery and Bruce in the search for ideas, and they had a blast with it. Each suggestion was more crude and ridiculous than the one before. I resisted the suggestions of butt plugs and cock rings, the equally stupid suggestions of sensual massages and facials ("I thought you'd want to give him a facial," Avery insinuated), and the totally counterproductive suggestion of flying John out for a surprise visit.

"Can you please be serious?" I pleaded. "You know I'm bad at gifting."

"That's because you look for what you'd want, not what the person to whom you're giving the gift would want," Avery alleged.

He had a point. I don't think I'd ever bought a gift I didn't like, no matter what the person receiving it might like. My mother had horrible taste in jewelry. I wouldn't contribute to her bad collection. She wore what I bought her only when I was around.

I started thinking of Mace and what he might want. Mace loved the Cardinals more than anything else, so I settled on something Cardinal. I knew nothing about the team, so I had to research its history and try to track something down.

I learned that Stan Musial was the most famous Cardinal, at least living. I called the Cardinals' ballpark, and got routed to the Fan Store. I talked to a nice lady who luckily had little else to do that afternoon, and, by the end of the call, an autographed Stan Musial jersey was being shipped my direction. It had cost a small fortune, but Mace was worth it.

Once I got the jersey, I had it framed, the back of the jersey highlighted by the "Stan 'the Man' Musial" signature between "MUSIAL" and "6." I wrapped the frame, and I couldn't wait to give the gift to Mace.

Mace and John met in New Orleans the weekend before Christmas. Mace returned grumpy. He was clearly put out at the gym, and he tried to avoid dinner at my apartment after. I couldn't let him, because I planned to give him his present for dessert. I was relentless, and Mace finally relented.

Over dinner, I dug for the source of his grumpiness. After three glasses of wine, he finally gave it up. He and John had celebrated Christmas in New Orleans, and John's gift was a paperback of Edmund Burke's "Reflections on the Revolution in France." A paperback?! John had either given up or didn't care.

If I was a better person, I may have buried my gift so as not to upstage John. As is by now quite obvious, I was not a better person, at least not yet.

I went to my room and returned with my gift. Mace's eyes went wide. I was eager with anticipation as he unwrapped it, carefully and patiently, of course (I should have known Mace would not tear the paper like I would have).

"Oh my God," he reacted as he took it in, mouth agape. "This is the best gift I've ever gotten." He turned to me, took my face in his hands, kissed me on the mouth, and said "Thank you, Juan. I really mean it. It's the best gift I've ever gotten."

As he walked toward his gym bag, he said, "I have something for you, too." He returned with a small box.

I tore the paper and flipped the box open. Inside, there was a single, small gold hoop.

"You said you wanted to get your ear pierced. So, now you have an earring to wear when you do it."

I thought Mace had set a precedent, so I kissed him in thanksgiving for my gift. "I love it," I said. "I really do. I'm going to get my ear pierced tomorrow." [I did. They told me to keep the gold stud in for thirty days, but I didn't. I substituted in Mace's hoop as soon as I got home. It hurt like hell to make the change, but I liked having something from him on me at all times.].

I opened another bottle of wine. We drank it on the patio. As we could in December in San Diego.

Our chairs were angled, and I slid my right foot under his left thigh. He responded by moving his left foot to my lap, and I took it in my hands, rubbing and tickling it as we drank our wine in silence.

Stupidly, I raised his foot to my mouth, kissed it, and said "I love you, Mace. I really do."

To my surprise, he responded by pulling my foot from under his leg, raising it to his mouth, and offering "I love you, too, Puta. I really do."

*****

Mace stayed over that night. We undressed in silence. I thought about pulling my briefs off, but I decided I didn't want to be too forward.

When Mace was in just his underwear, he stood and looked at me. It was the most I'd ever seen of him. He was well-built. I loved the blond hair that covered his chest and the way it trailed down his stomach and into his briefs.

His briefs were full, and he wasn't hard. His cock was to the right, and it was impressive. It looked like he had a can of beer in his pants. I almost said something about it, but I decided against it. Instead, I walked over to him, and kneeled in front of him. I ran my hands over his feet, his calves and his thighs. I put my face to his crotch and inhaled deeply. I raised up and ran my hands over his sides, his stomach, his chest and his shoulders. I lowered my face to his right armpit and inhaled deeply again. I ran my tongue along his chest and neck and chin and kissed his lips. I could feel his cock straining against mine. I decided to jump.

"Mace, I want to make love with you."

"I know, Juan, but I can't. I'm sorry. I just can't."

"No one needs to know but us."

"That's one too many."

I didn't press him. I pulled back, smiled, and suggested we get some sleep.

"I think I should go," he offered, half-heartedly.

"Don't be stupid. It's too late and you've had too much to drink. I can sleep with you and keep my hands off you."

"I'm not worried about you. I'm worried about me."

We settled into bed. We were both on our backs, and I realized I had not thanked Mace for my gift. "Thank you for the ear ring," I said. "Every time I wear it I'll think of you."

Mace rolled toward me and said nothing. As I had done to him on Halloween, he traced my face, starting at my hairline, circling my eyes, and tracing each eyebrow before moving to my nose and my mouth. He continued to my neck, lightly tickling down my carotid to my clavicle. He moved to each nipple, circling them over and over before gently swirling my chest hair and my stomach hair. I was so turned on, I thought I might explode. I expected him to stop at my navel, but he didn't. He moved his hand to my dick and tickled it and my balls through my briefs. I was getting lost in his touch when he said "you can take those off, if you want."

I totally wanted. But, I wasn't sure I should act on the want. Any more touching, though, would resolve my uncertainty.

"Mace, do you really want to do this?"

"So much."

"Okay, bad choice of words. Don't you think you're going to regret doing this?"

"I hope not."

I raised my hips and slipped my briefs off. Mace's hand stayed on my stomach, so it was clear he was having doubts. I was trapped between carnal desire and reason.

When Mace moved his hand toward my cock, I grabbed it.

"Don't," I said.

"I want to."

"You don't," I said, pulling Mace's hand to my mouth and kissing it. I jacked myself while I sucked his fingers. I was so geeked up, it took no time for me to come. I filled my navel with cum.

Mace pulled his fingers from my mouth and placed them in his own, sucking my saliva off of each of them. I got up to clean the cum off me. When I returned to bed, Mace apologized for being a cocktease.

"You're not a cocktease. You're just stuck between where you are and where you want to be."

Mace didn't agree or disagree. But, his silence said a lot to me.

Chapter Seven

When I woke up, Mace was gone. I found a note in soap on my bathroom mirror. "Merry Christmas and thank you for my wonderful gift."

My family and I headed to Bogota for Christmas. Gay was definitely not okay in Colombia, so I was going to have to be very careful if I got the urge to get laid.

Of course I did. I found a clandestine bar, picked a boy, and fucked his face and ass in the backseat of his car. I'd have been arrested and imprisoned if I had gotten caught.

I didn't have a condom, so I filled that boy's ass with my cum. I should have cared, but I didn't.

He pleaded with me in Spanish to make him come. I didn't want to, so I pretended not to speak Spanish and signaled for him to jack himself off. When I got back to my aunt's house, I stared at myself in the mirror, wondering who I was.

*****

Avery and I stayed at Bruce's for New Year's Eve. Over dinner, I came clean and told them about my feelings for Mace and the "Sam and Diane" game we had been playing.

They were not surprised. But, they immediately porcupined for me, raising their hackles to try to protect me from getting hurt.

"Puta, Mace is in town only for a year," Bruce reasoned. "When his clerkship's over, he's headed to wherever John is. Protect yourself."

"It may be too late."

"Then back up."

"I'm not sure I can. I think maybe Mace is the one."

"Whoa," Avery intoned. "The one? I thought you were certain there was no such thing. I'm pretty sure you described it as a 'hetero construct that was unrealistic and used to delude young girls into worshiping men.'"

"I think I was wrong. I feel different about Mace than I have about anyone else. When I'm with him, I'm a better person."

Avery and Bruce just smiled. Years of my own rebuke confronted me in those smiles. I was eating raw crow.

"If that is so," Avery finally said, "then you need to give it all you've got, Puta. You have to throw everything you have at him. You'll never forgive yourself if you don't."

Bruce agreed. "Puta, if anyone or anything makes you change how you think about things, you have to give it your all. You'll wither away if you don't."

When we were finished, we were all in agreement. I may not ultimately get Mace, but I needed to fight for him as hard as I could. I had never fought for anyone, so I didn't know what to do.

*****

The first Monday of 1993, I made a grand Colombian dinner for Mace. We ate it at my coffee table, which I had dressed with a cloth and candles. It was the first time we had seen each other since we had exchanged Christmas gifts. Mace had immediately complimented the earring. I had responded it was my new favorite thing.

Mace seemed reflective, and I inquired as to why. He told me he thought 1993 was going to be a significant year for him, he had a couple of big decisions he needed to make, and he wasn't sure he was mentally prepared to make them. One dealt with his job. His clerkship ended at the end of August, and he had to figure out what he wanted to do after that. He had a lot of options, but he wanted to make sure he chose the right one.

The other had to do with John. If they were going to be together, then Mace needed to allow that to inform his professional decision, as John was in D.C. for at least two more years. But, Mace seemed to be having doubts about John, which he either couldn't or wouldn't share with me.

"I can't talk to you about him, Puta."

"Why not?"

"I think your opinions might be tainted by self-interest."

"I can be objective."

Mace disputed my claim by cocking his right eyebrow at me. I smiled back, knowing he was right.

"Alright," I admitted. "But, even an objective person would tell you that you can't build a relationship with someone who refuses to admit who they are and what they are. You just can't. He's going to marry some unfortunate woman and try to keep you on the side. It's fucked up."

"I'm sorry, Puta. But, like I said, I can't talk to you about this. And, I don't want to. I like you, a lot. I like being friends with you, a lot. I don't want John to become an obstacle to that friendship."

I felt like I had just been scolded. My back was up, and my natural instinct was to lash out. I didn't. I decided to take a softer approach. I put my hand on his and confessed.

"Look, Mace, I know you love John. I just don't think he can or will love you like you love him. And, I don't want you to settle for less than you deserve. I want to see you with someone who loves you more than you love him."

"Like you, Puta? Is that what you think you're offering me."

"Yes, that's what I think I'm offering you."

"But that's against everything you've said."

"You've changed my mind."

It was finally all out there, and Mace's eyes welled with tears. Before any fell, he announced he had to go, stood up, and beelined for my door.

"Mace, don't leave."

"I have to," he said, pulling the door shut behind him before I could get to it.

I circled the wagons and called Avery and Bruce over. We were on the patio, and I told them I wasn't sure that I had done it properly, but I had laid it all out for Mace. We walked over and over through every word and every movement. We interpreted and re-interpreted actions and reactions. We speculated about where it all would go.

I was almost asleep when my phone rang.

"Hello."

"Juan, it's Mace. I hope I didn't wake you."

"You didn't. I just climbed into bed. What's up?"

"Sorry I bolted on you like that."

"You don't have to apologize to me. You never have to apologize to me."

"This is hard, Juan. I'm struggling, and I don't know what to do. I'm normally so excited flying east to John. Last weekend, I felt more excited flying west back to you."

"That makes me happy."

"I know. But, it doesn't make me happy. It's tormenting me. When I'm with John, I feel like I'm cheating on you. When I'm with you, I feel like I'm cheating on John. No matter where I am, I feel shitty about what I'm doing. . . . So, I think we should stop hanging out for awhile. I've told myself for the last month or so that I can control my emotions and just be friends with you. But, I can't. When I'm with you, I want more than that."

"Does John know?"

"God, no. He thinks this is just a thing between the two of us. I can't tell him I'm attracted to another man. He'll freak about me not being gay."

I'm not sure Mace understood how fucked up his explanation sounded. Or, that his explanation suggested he was making the wrong choice in pushing me away.

"Look, Mace. I know I can't talk you out of this. I'm not even going to try. I'm not going to be satisfied going back to a purely platonic thing with you, and you won't either. Neither of us have admitted it, but we've been lovers for awhile no. Not sexually. But in every other way. I love you. I want to be with you. You've made me re-think everything I was certain of. I think you're making a mistake. But, it's your mistake to make."

Neither of us spoke for awhile. I couldn't tell if Mace was thinking or re-thinking. He finally broke the silence.

"I have to figure this out. I don't think I can if you're right in front of me and John's in D.C. I don't want to take the easy way out. I need space so I can think things through logically and rationally."

"I don't think logic and reason apply here. I used to. But I don't anymore."

"I just need some space."

"Then take it. But, don't stay gone too long."

"I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too."

We hung up. I felt heartbroken. I called Avery and then Bruce. I woke each of them up. I cried as they tried to comfort me.

Chapter Eight

I didn't see Mace the rest of January. Through the grapevine, I heard that Mace was working out in the morning, presumably to avoid running into my accidentally at the gym.

My Mondays were maudlin. I used to look forward to them, as I had Mace all to myself. Now, I hated them.

I sublimated my feelings for Mace in other boys. I time traveled back to Seaver College, fucking everyone I could. One in particular caught my fancy. He was older and a lean 6'6". He had shoulder length blond hair but almost no hair anywhere else on his body. I met him at the grocery store. I first ran into him at the deli counter. He had the number before me. He introduced himself as Christian while we waited.

"I'm Juan," I responded, holding out my hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Juan," he responded, holding onto my hand longer than he should have.

I next ran into him in the dairy section. He bumped his cart into mine. "Sorry, Juan," he said, laughing. "I'm not a very good driver."

"That's okay," I responded. "It's a rental."

I last ran into him in the checkout line. There were only two lines open, and the wait was long. He ran his cart into mine again. "Sorry, Juan," he smiled. "I've been drinking."

"I haven't."

"Can I buy you a drink, then?"

"Sure."

We didn't wait to pay for our food. We left our full cars in line and headed out. As we walked out, I suggested it made more sense to drink the free booze that was at my apartment, only a block away. Christian responded by taking my hand and telling me to lead the way.

Christian's body was perfectly proportional. Since he was 78 inches tall, that meant he had large hands, large feet, and a large cock. Within moments of entering my apartment, I was sliding up and down on it as he got acquainted with Pipi. I shuddered as I came.

When I was done shooting, Christian flipped me onto my back and continued to deliver himself to me. As I felt him swell, he pulled out, pulled the condom off, and came all over my stomach and chest. As he licked his cum out of my hair, I got hard. He took me in his mouth and pushed his long middle finger into my ass, finding my prostate and gently playing with it until I unloaded deep into his throat. For the first time since I had started whoring around again, I didn't think of Mace

"I still owe you that drink," I said, heading toward the kitchen. "What's your pleasure?"

"Well, if that was any indication, you," he answered, following me.

I was making vodka tonics when Christian came up behind me, pressed his dick between my shoulder blades, and put his hands into my chest hair. I put my head back against his chest and raised my hands to his face. We stayed like that until Christian was hard. I turned around, kissed my way down to his dick, and blew him. I was pinned against the refrigerator getting my face fucked when Christian pulled out and shot all over my chest. I was disappointed. I had wanted him to come in my mouth

As he had before, he licked his cum out of my hair and kept going to my cock. After he worked me for awhile, he told me he wanted me to fuck him. I grabbed a condom out of the stash I kept in the kitchen, rolled it on, and fucked him on the kitchen floor. When he raised his legs to my shoulders, I almost burst out laughing. I felt like chihuahua riding a mastiff.

Christian stayed the night. We introduced ourselves to each other as we recovered from serial orgasms.