The Last Time We Met

I could bear no more. I collapsed in tears on the sofa. I wept for my shattered walls. I wept for the lie that had sustained me throughout my life. I wept for the truth that I couldn't bear to know.

I felt an arm around my shoulder. Don sat next to me. He had already cleaned himself and now cleaned me with a wet, warm washcloth. I buried my head in his shoulder and cried, while he rocked me until I ran out of tears. He brushed my cheek softly.

"You're okay, Roger. You're okay."

"Okay? You think I'm okay? Don't you get it? I'm gay, don't you understand? I'm gay and I love you and I can't love you because..."

"Because I'm a man and you don't love men? Listen to me, Roger. You're not gay."

"What do you mean? Didn't you see how I kissed you? And how much I loved our cocks rubbing together?"

"Are you kidding? You call that gay? That was a Regina level kiss. And that's the point."

I looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Can you handle the truth?"

I sniffed and rubbed my eyes to get myself back under control. I sat up and looked him in the eye.

"Try me, Don...or is it Donald?"

"It's Don to my friends and Donald to my lovers, so you can call me whatever you want. You're my friend, and you're my lover.

"But more to the point, you aren't Roger. You aren't Regina. You, my dear, are you. Male, female, masculine, feminine, what are they but labels we use to put people in silos?

"I refuse to put you in a silo. You are a brilliant, compassionate, witty, sensual charming, beautiful person. I've waited for you all my life and I'm not going to give you up. You are mine, every mixed up bit of you and we're going to enjoy each other completely. If anyone objects, they can go to Hell. I don't care if you call yourself Roger or Regina or R2D2. Whoever you are, I want you to be mine. I'm already yours: I have been for longer than you know.

"We came here tonight to make love, and we're going to do that, person to person. No Roger, no Regina, no Donald, no Don, just us, my cock in you, becoming one flesh. We're going to spend the rest of the night enjoying each other's bodies."

He walked me backward toward the bed. When I felt it touch my legs, I sat down and allowed him to lower me to the mattress.

"And now, my love," he said, reaching for a bottle of lube, "I'm going to kiss you long and hard and we're going to make sweet love all night long.

I watched him rub the lube on his cock. He pulled my feet up, kissing each one, and rested them on his shoulders. He slowly penetrated me, stopping when the cock head was in. I cried out as the pain hit, but he held his position while I adjusted to him.

"But, Sir," I protested feebly, "I thought you weren't gay."

"I'm not gay," he answered, sliding his way into me and leaning forward to claim my lips. "I don't love men. I love you."