Tom had built up a sweat working out after he had asked Alan to leave that Friday night. He went to the bathroom, but avoided the mirror. He didn’t want to see the recriminating look he might be giving himself. Stripping, he jumped in the shower. As the water cascaded over his body, he leaned against the wall. Why had he dismissed Alan so callously? Alan was a nice guy…a handsome guy…in every way a guy who deserved better than Tom had given him.
I’m a jerk, Tom told himself. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t let the feelings that had come when he had been with Alan surface. They were from another time in his life, and he wasn’t going to allow himself to go through that again.
He took a deep breath, got out of the shower, dried himself and went to bed.
* * * *
The weekend dragged by. Tom studied some, went to work and then went home to pick up his laundry.
While there, his mother asked, “What’s wrong? You look like you just lost your best friend.”
Tom just shrugged and pleaded fatigue. His father made some snide remark about his having no real friends. Tom ignored him.
Sunday afternoon Tom considered going to the park. But, strangely enough, he had no desire to hook up with anyone. So he went to the movies instead. He saw Planet of the Apes. But even the rugged, hairy-chested Charlton Heston didn’t revive his libido. Tom returned to his apartment to study some more and ponder what was going on within him. He didn’t want what Alan represented in his life. Yet he couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Monday morning Tom woke late. He had class that afternoon. Getting up, he looked at the clock: 11:55. He hadn’t worked out all weekend, hadn’t felt like it. After his morning piss, he looked at himself in the mirror.
“Get a grip, Clarkson!” he told himself. “Alan didn’t deserve what you did to him, that’s true, but it’s better this way. You’re not gonna go down that road again. Remember what happened last time.” Tom remembered all right. He remembered the pain of realizing the one you loved wasn’t being honest with you. That he was fooling around behind your back, making you look like a fool for giving your heart away by bragging about his cheating to all your friends. No, Tom wouldn’t make that mistake again even though Alan seemed so different from…no, he wouldn’t go there.
He walked back into the all-purpose room that was his apartment and stood for a moment with his hands on his hips, looking at the weight bench and rack of dumbbells. He had to shake this mood. He had to forget about Alan, his momentary lapse of judgment, and move on. He resolutely sat down on the bench and, picked up a pair of weights and prepared to lean back and begin a workout.
There was a knock on the door. Tom froze. He put the weights down on the floor, quietly got up and went to the front window. The knock came again as Tom looked out and saw Alan’s Mustang parked at the curb. Tom closed his eyes as his heart raced. He turned from the window and went to the door. The knocking came once more. Tom put his hand on the doorknob, leaned his head against the mirror and held his breath. A fourth volley of thumps vibrated against his forehead.
I can’t…I’m sorry…I can’t…Please, just go away, he thought, biting his lower lip.
The knocking ceased. Then Tom heard the sound of retreating footsteps. Sighing, he turned away from the door and went back to the window. He looked out in time to see Alan getting into his car. Then he saw Alan look up at the window. Tom pulled back, hoping he hadn’t been seen. Then he watched, hating himself, as Alan drove away.
* * * *
“What are you doing here?” Tom asked, sitting up and looking at the handsome, sandy-haired, naked man standing at the foot of the bed smiling at him.
“Not happy to see me, lover boy?” the man asked in a mocking voice.
“No, Connor, I’m not,” Tom said. “Go away.”
“That’s no way to greet your old boyfriend,” Connor replied. “But don’t worry…I’m not really here. You’re dreaming.” Connor walked around to the side of the bed and sat down.
Tom closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them again, Connor was still there, smiling.
“What do you want?” Tom asked. “Why am I dreaming about you?”
“I’d like to tell you it’s because, despite the way I treated you, you’re still in love with me…but we both know that isn’t true.”
“You got that right,” Tom said. “So?”
Connor sighed. “I came to warn you.”
“Warn me?”
“About Alan.”
“What do you know about Alan? You’re a dream.”
“Ah, but I’m your dream, and you know Alan…so therefore I know him,” Connor said smugly. Tom had always hated the snide way Connor had of putting him down.
“Okay. So, what do you know about Alan that you need to fuckin’ warn me about?” Tom asked, sitting up taller and crossing his arms over his chest defiantly.
Connor’s smile deepened. “I know you’re in love with him.”
“I am not!”
“Oh, yes you are, Tommykins.”
Tom winced at Connor’s using his old nickname. He’d always hated it. It sounded so queer.
Connor laughed as if he knew he had hit a nerve. “In fact,” he continued, “You love him more than you ever loved me.”
Tom didn’t argue the point. Deep down he knew it was true. “So what’s the warning?”
“He’ll hurt you…just like I did.”
“No he won’t. He’s a kind, gentle, innocent guy. Besides, he’s new to all this…He just discovered he’s a queer.”
“That’s the point, isn’t it?” Connor asked, sounding triumphant.
Tom wrinkled his brow. He didn’t understand.
“He won’t be satisfied with you after awhile. He’ll want a taste for more, for variety, to explore and find out what queer sex is all about. He’ll start sneaking around behind your back just like I did. And when you find out, he’ll deny it, and all your friends will think Tommykins has done it again, given his heart away, only to be made a fool of.”
“Shut up!” Tom yelled. “Shut your fuckin’ face or I’ll—”
“Or you’ll what? Wake up?” Connor laughed. “Yes, you’ll wake up and you’ll know it’s true…know it’s true…know it’s true…”
Tom woke with a start. He sat up and looked around wildly. A gentle breeze ruffled the curtains on the window next to the bed. Sweating, Tom lay down again and turned on his back. He stared at the ceiling.
Connor’s right. Can’t take a chance.
He closed his eyes and, after a while, drifted back off to sleep.
* * * *
Throughout the next few days Tom thought of his dream often. He knew what Connor had said was true. Well, as Connor had admitted it wasn’t really Connor, it was Tom himself speaking through Connor in the dream, saying the things that Tom wouldn’t say. It was Tom’s subconscious which knew the score and spoke the truth to him. Every time Tom would think of Alan, wishing he hadn’t thrown him out, he would remind himself of the dream and the debate would be ended…for awhile.
In order to take his mind off his ongoing dilemma, Tom applied himself to his studies. This surprised him as well as Dr. Barry, who expressed his pleasure at Tom’s new-found enthusiasm and focus in class.
“Mr. Clarkson,” the professor said when Tom expounded on the political motivations behind the civil rights movement and legislation in Congress to end the discrimination against colored people, “With this keen grasp of political maneuvering I would think you should consider a political career for yourself. What, may I ask, has lit this fire in you?”
Tom, while pleased with the praise from the handsome professor, whose sexy persona had been the main motivation for taking this class, was nonetheless perplexed. The truth was he was trying to douse a fire. For despite his determination to forget Alan and what had transpired between them, he couldn’t get the man out of his mind.
Tom smiled at Dr. Barry and said, “Well, doc, I’ll give it some thought, but as for what lit my fire…let’s just say when one fire goes out…another begins.”
The professor smiled. “I for one am glad. May you keep these fires burning.”
Tom smiled back. But he knew this academic flame was just a flash in the pan. It would only keep burning until the possibility of the fire he really wanted to keep under control was extinguished completely.
Tom’s work at the bakery also benefited from his need to try to put Alan out of his mind. He volunteered for extra hours and shifts. He’d do anything to keep his mind from contemplating any course of action aimed at seeking out this man who seemed to be trying, without actually being there, to turn Tom’s life upside down. Tom’s industry was not lost on his boss. The old man was so impressed with this new work ethic, he offered Tom a promotion to shift supervisor along with a raise in pay. Tom was tempted to accept but, as with his burst of energy and dedication to his studies, he knew once he had his emotions under control he would revert to the less responsible, do only enough to get by, person he had always been. So he declined the boss’s offer.
* * * *
Sunday, a week after his date with Alan, seemed to be a turning point. Tom was horny. He woke up that way, the first time since he’d sent Alan away. He hadn’t had relief in a week now and his nuts felt it—blue balls for sure. Tom was glad. Things were getting back to normal. Now how could he take care of this problem? He didn’t want to just jerk off, he wanted man-to-man contact. This pleased him, too. The park? At first he thought, No, I might run into Alan. But then he decided that was too remote a possibility. Alan wouldn’t go back there; too much a neophyte. Besides he probably had moved on, wasn’t interested anymore. That thought caused a momentary sense of loss which he shook off with the resolution, Yeah, I’ll go back to Delph and get me some ass.
* * * *
“Crap!” Tom exclaimed out loud. He stood in the john by the sink reading the writing on the wall…Alan’s writing.
Like to try it again? Say when? Really like to see you.
The note was dated Wednesday of the previous week. Alan had been here. As of Wednesday he was still interested.
Tom’s mind swirled. He tried to put the lid back on the feelings he had so recently declared were under control. He wanted to turn away from the message but didn’t seem to have the strength or the will to do so. Then a voice from behind him said, “Catching up on the latest reading material, are ya?”
Tom whirled around. Standing with his hands on his hips was a handsome, older man of about thirty-five. He smiled at Tom, who shook his head and said, “Matt Wilson, you old son of a bitch. How the hell are you? You still in the business of trying to save the world from us fuckin’ perverts? How many did you round up this week?”
Officer Matt Wilson laughed and said, “A bunch. Their trials are tomorrow.”
“So, you on duty now?” Tom asked.
“Naw, I just came around to see if there was any action I could get in on.”
Tom laughed, “One of these days you’re gonna get caught by one of your own collars and then it’ll be you whose goin’ to trial.”
“That’ll be the day.” The cop laughed. “The guys I usually decide to pick up are so scared of arrest they’ll do anything I ask and swear their lips are sealed. That is everyone but you, you little cocksucker. You never were scared a me. How about it? Wanna give this big bad cop a piece of your ass?”
Tom hesitated. His mind was still on the note and the implication it carried: Alan was still interested. But was Tom? If he was, he didn’t want to be.
“Well…make up your mind. You got another hot date or something?” Matt asked a little impatiently.
Making a decision, Tom said, “Fuck no!” a little louder than he intended. Maybe this was the way to drive these thoughts about what might be with Alan out altogether.
“Same routine, Officer?”
“Yep,” the cop replied. “I pretend to arrest you so my cover is in tact, and we go to your place and I fuck your ass raw.” He laughed. “Come on.”
The two men walked out of the brick restroom, Officer Matt Wilson roughly holding Tom by the arm. They got in his unmarked car and headed out of the park.
* * * *
When they arrived at Tom’s apartment, Officer Wilson slammed the door shut behind them, walked Tom backward and pushed him down on the bed. Officer Wilson stood in front of Tom and unzipped his fly then pulled out his fat cock. It was already hard and dripping.
“Get to work, cocksucker,” he commanded.
Tom obeyed. He pushed the foreskin back with his lips as he pulled the man’s hard prick into his mouth. Closing his eyes, Tom let feelings of arousal wash away the turmoil and confusion that had been with him since the previous week. This was where it was at—sex for the sake of sex—no emotional attachment, no commitments, no expectations that led to hurt and disappointment. It was just the physical arousal and intense responses to animalistic sex.
“That’s right, boy. Suck this cop’s big boner. Yeah, take it all the way down,” Officer Wilson chuckled. “That’ big tool makes ya gag, huh? Well, sonny boy, it’s gonna do more than that when I stick it up that man-cunt a yours.”
Tom continued to lick and suck Matt’s dick, sometimes lifting it out of the way and taking the man’s hair-covered balls into his mouth, first one at a time then both at once, their size accentuated by the leather cock-ring wrapped tightly around them.
After several minutes of this Matt pulled back. “Not gonna get away with short changing me by makin’ me cum. It’s that fine ass of yours I want. Now get up, get naked and kneel on the bed.”
Again Tom did as he was told. On his knees on the bed he heard Matt’s clothes fall to the floor and felt Matt step up behind him. The cop spread Tom’s ass cheeks and ran his hand up and down the crack. Tom took a deep breath and let the feelings of raw sex further take control…pushing Alan farther into the recesses of his mind. Matt stopped at Tom’s hole and gently fingered the puckered orifice.
“Yeah, that’s nice and tight, boy. Gonna feel so good to be jammed up in there.”
Matt then bent over and Tom felt the man’s tongue begin to lick and probe the opening.
“God, Matt, that’s good,” he breathed. “Lick that hole.”
“That’s Officer Matt to you, fucker,” the cop said without taking his face away from its target.
Tom felt the man’s tongue loosening and wetting the pucker. He braced himself. He knew it would hurt. The man was huge, but he needed to be fucked, needed to have his mind blown with sex to drive away the ridiculous notion that there was more to man-to-man relationships than this. He’d learned that the hard way with Connor and wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
Matt stuck a finger into Tom’s hole, rolled it around and jabbed it against his sweet spot. Little lights danced before Tom’s eyes, waves of electricity tingled the tip of his rock-hard cock. Two fingers were in, then three. Tom felt his asshole stretch and yield to the invasion. He started to beg for the real thing to be rammed into his chute, to feel the hard man-tool invade his body.
“Fuck me, Goddamnit, fuck me!” Tom yelled.
“Oh, you want it, you little fuck bitch,” Matt teased. “How bad? Tell the big bad policeman how bad you want his man-club up your fuckin’ ass.”
“Please, Officer Wilson. Fuck me. I need to be fucked. I need you to shoot your load into my ass,” Tom pleaded.
Matt placed the tip of his cock against Tom’s hole. He pressed. Tom’s flesh surrendered. The thick cock slid inside until Tom felt the man’s dense pubic hair against his ass cheeks. Matt wasted no time letting Tom adjust to the pain he was experiencing. Matt started pounding his ass, holding Tom’s hips and pistoning his dick into the recesses of the man’s body. Tom felt his prostate being pummeled by the end of the huge tool. Every contact brought waves of both pain and pleasure, driving all rational thought from Tom’s mind. Matt reached around, took Tom’s stiff dick in his hand and pumped in unison with his thrusts.
In minutes, Tom shot his load onto the bed covers, quickly followed by a roar from Matt. Tom felt the man’s cock throb inside him and knew he was being flooded by his man-seed.
Matt collapsed on top of Tom, flattening him on the bed.
“Fuck, that was good, boy. Real good,” the cop panted.
Tom could feel the man’s heart pounding against his back.
For about a half hour they remained on Tom’s bed, Matt on his back, his hands folded behind his head. Tom was next to Matt, laying on his stomach, his ass tingling. He fondled the older man’s ample balls as he basked in the afterglow of great sex. He had to admit, while primarily a fucker, when it came to a guy like Matt Wilson, he could become a boy-toy without too much coaxing. The feel of the man’s thick steel rod stretching his hole had an appeal that Tom didn’t often give in to. Alan was far from his mind.
“When you gonna give up this charade and admit you’re queer?” Tom asked.
“Ain’t no charade. I ain’t no queer. Queers do a lot of kissin’ and huggin’ and shit like that,” Matt replied. “You didn’t see us doing any a that crap did ya? No you didn’t, right?”
Tom had a momentary flashback to Alan and the kisses they had shared. He brushed it aside.
“Besides,” the cop went on, “did you notice you’re the one did all the suckin’ and I was the one doin’ all the fuckin’? Queers suck and get fucked.”
“If you aren’t queer, then why do you do it with guys?”
“Men know how to please another man. Women are too timid. Sure I like a good pussy fuck, and a nice set a tits and firm female ass turns me on, but when it comes down to the nitty-gritty, a man’s mouth and tight asshole will win out every time. Besides, men don’t expect that just cuz you fuck ’em you want to marry ’em.”
Matt’s words brought thoughts of Alan back into Tom’s mind. Matt was wrong. There were guys for whom sex was an invitation to intimacy and long-term commitment. Tom realized Matt was still talking, so he fought to push away these thoughts.
“…Yeah, there was this one kid. Picked him up on Friday. He was a cutie, and innocent, too. Whew! I hardly knew what to do. I felt kinda sorry for him. At first I was gonna do him. I almost gave him the old give me a ‘piece a your ass and I’ll tear up this citation’. ”
“You’re all heart, Officer Wilson,” Tom said sarcastically.
The cop continued. “The case is pretty weak cuz he really didn’t do anything. But he was so scared I probably could a tried the ‘fuck me or else’ with him. He was so naïve he woulda given in easy. He wouldn’t have a clue that I had nothing on him. But I did my duty and wrote him up. He’s gonna be tried tomorrow.”
Tom had a sudden thought. He let go of Matt’s balls and turned over on his back. Was Matt talking about Alan? He wanted to ask but didn’t want to know. If it was Alan, then he was still coming to Delph, still looking for Tom. Alan had not only left the note on Wednesday but had come back on Friday. Suddenly his confusion was back. Thoughts of Alan and the sex they had shared, sex that had feeling beyond the physical act, vied with the raw meaningless sex he’d just had with Matt.
Matt was continuing. “…I may just throw the case and let the kid get off. Then maybe I can find him the next time he comes to Delph, and he’ll be so grateful I let him off that he’ll…”
Tom wasn’t listening any more. He was thinking. Thinking of a way to get to Alan again, to tell him…tell him what? He wasn’t sure. He just knew he had to at least see him again.
Matt stretched and got out of bed. He stood naked, looking down at Tom. “Thanks for the fuck. I’ll be goin’ now.” He turned and walked to the pile of clothes they had discarded earlier and started to dress.
Tom rolled onto his side and propped his head on his bent arm. “You gonna be patrolling at the park again?” he said trying to veil his concern.
“Nope,” the cop replied. “Picked up about a half dozen there last week. The word’ll get out and the action’ll cool down a bit. But I’ll be back after you faggots get your balls back and think the place is safe. Then the fun’ll start all over again.” He laughed.
Relieved to hear the park would be safe for a time and that Alan, should he return to there, would be safe as well, Tom got up and put on his briefs. Matt walked over and grabbed him in a head lock. “Keep outta trouble. You got yourself a free pass from me cuz you’re such a good piece a ass. With the other guys I won’t be so generous.”
“Thanks,” Tom managed to say, his mouth pressed to Matt’s belt.
Matt let him go, squeezed Tom’s nuts, walked to the door, saluted him and left.
With the exit of the policeman, Tom’s mind went into high gear. If Alan was still interested, maybe he’d come back to Delph again. If Tom left a message then maybe he’d be able to see Alan once more. Tom had to sort this out, to find out if he was ready to go beyond physical gratification and once more dare to…he closed his eyes and forced himself to think the word…love.
* * * *
Fifteen minutes later, after jogging to the park, Tom was in the john writing under Alan’s message.
Yes! Come to my place. Home every night this week. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he added, T. just to make sure Alan knew it was really him.
* * * *