Chapter 9 – Chapter 9

Part Nine

The year went on like that. Vi evanesced, at least as far I was concerned. I heard little about her. I wanted to hear less than I did.

Spring Break, I had interviews on the Ninth Circuit for an appellate clerkship. I went from Chicago to Reno to San Francisco to San Diego and back. The airline lost my bag. Stupidly, my apartment keys were in my bag. Hurriedly, I had put my jacket – key in pocket – in the bag. So, when John retrieved me from O'Hare, I was homeless.

John's roommates had scattered for Spring Break. So, I moved in.

We spent four days in bed. We put Chips Ahoy by the bed, so we could cure our bad breath with a cookie when we woke up. I sucked Joe with an ice cube in my mouth. And, with beer in my mouth. And, with champagne in my mouth.

When we weren't having sex, we were reading to each other or asleep. We were exhausted by the time the airline returned my bag.

I wanted this to go on and on, but the end was bearing down on us. John would graduate and move to D.C., leaving me behind in Chicago. He had predicted he'd be in St. Louis to study for the bar, so I took a job with another St. Louis firm for my 2L summer. Vi ruined everything, landing a post-doctorate fellowship in Denver. John had to decide between Denver and St. Louis for the summer, and Vi made the decision for him with an ultimatum. I should have made one of my own.

So, I spent the summer in a city I did not want to be in, only because I thought John would be there with me. Instead, he was in Denver, getting ready to move to D.C.

We saw each other little that summer. The bar exam consumed him, and Vi gave him little rope. I felt the first glimmers of anxiety.

I hid my anxiety in Freddie. He, too, was in St. Louis for the summer, and we hung out almost every night. Our apartments were only blocks away from each other, and we routinely played 9 holes or tennis after work, or ran around Forest Park, or went to the ballpark, or hung out in Busch's Grove.

One Saturday, we spent the day at Forest Park. When it was time to go home, Freddie walked past his apartment to mine. Something was amiss, but I was not sure what.

Once inside my apartment, Freddie decided he needed a shower. He left the door open. My shower curtain was clear plastic, so I could see him in the medicine cabinet mirror. He was a work of art. He ran and swam almost every day, so there was not an ounce of body fat on his granola body. His chest and stomach were covered in curly brown hair, as was his crotch. His back and ass were hairless. His legs were thick and muscled, especially his calves.

"Don't stare," he admonished, shocking me to my senses. "If you like what you see, then come on in."

I stripped and joined Freddie in the shower.

"You were right. You have a really nice dick," he said.

"Thank you. So, do you."

"Yeah, but you knew that already. This is my first time seeing yours. It's too big for you."

I put my hands on his sides and asked what he was doing.

"Just having a little fun," he said.

I moved my hands to his chest. I loved the hair on his front. I lowered my face to his nipple and started to lick and suck it. I worked my way down his body and took his dick in my mouth kneeling in the shower. Freddie grabbed my head and held it still. He drove his dick in and out of my mouth, fucking my face until his legs were trembling and he came down my throat.

The next time I saw Freddie, I asked why he had invited me into the shower. His answer was simple. "I was horny, and you give great head." And, that was that.

*****

At the end of the summer, John and I took a week long trip to San Blas, Mexico. San Blas is a tiny Mexican town on the Pacific side. It felt like the edge of the earth. I didn't speak Spanish, so I was totally reliant on John.

San Blas was sick with mosquitoes. We had to use Deet when we got out of the shower. If you missed a spot in your ear, they swarmed to it. It was gross.

But, we were where nobody knew our name. We spent our days drinking Pacifico and body surfing. We spent our evenings drinking Pacifico and body surfing. We had a ridiculous amount of sex. I may have been wrong, but it seemed like it got better each and every time.

One day, I jacked John in the ocean, his cum floating to the surface. I scooped it in my hand and sucked it through my teeth.

One night, John fucked me on the beach. We were careless and crazy, as we could easily have spent our lives in a Mexican prison if we had been discovered. But, the risk added to the delight, and we both had explosive orgasms that left us exhausted and laughing.

The penultimate day of our trip, we went fishing. We were in a tiny boat with no life preservers when I hooked a sailfish. Our "guide" immediately yelled "sailfeeesh," hit the throttle, and took out across the water, chasing the fish out into the ocean. "Let heeem ruuuun," he yelled, as we flew. We were slapping against the water and laughing hard to suppress the real fear we were going to capsize and die. It took almost an hour, but we got the sailfish to the boat, unhooked him, and set him free. The landing of him had been spectacular. He'd dive deep, reverse course, and fly out of the water, shaking himself violently, trying to free himself of the hook.

That night, I decided to tell John about Freddie. I felt guilty, even though I was not sure I should. I told John I had blown him twice.

"Well," he said, "I cannot say I am happy about either one."

"I know. I feel like shit. But, I can't undo it."

"I think it might make me feel better if you told tell every detail," he said, looking at me slyly out of the corner of his eye.

"You're a pig," I said.

"Agreed. Now, tell me every detail." I did, leaving out nothing. John started jacking his dick as I talked. I took over, jacking him as I described how Freddie pounded my face in the shower. As I finished, so did John, spraying his chest and stomach. I straddled him and licked all I could off him.

*****

As we flew back to his clerkship and my third year, I asked "is this sustainable?"

"I do not know, Carrot. I hope so, but I do not know."

"I don't think I want what you want," I responded.

"How do you mean?" he asked.

"I don't want to be your plaything. I want to be your everything."

"You are my everything," he said.

"I'm not. Vi lurks. Your desire to be married lurks. Your desire to be hidden lurks."

We held hands as we flew. We were leaving paradise. But, paradise was in our past. We would soon need to face cold, hard facts.