Chapter 7 – Chapter 7

We went on like that. Any night Cal was not with Kate, we shared his bed. Those days and nights, we were like a married couple.

If he was with Kate, then I stayed on my own. I missed him too much to be in his bed when he was gone.

We made love most nights and most mornings, unless Cal was to see Kate. The night before – and morning of – any visit with Kate, Cal "saved" himself. He feared she would know if he wasn't "fresh" or as "intense" as he otherwise would be. Most of those mornings and nights, Cal devoured me orally. He wanted to give me something to remember him by when he was gone.

I started going out the nights Cal was with Kate. Kansas City's bar scene was weaker than carnival lemonade. The only real gay bar was the new Dixie Belle, and it was cavernously overbuilt. It lacked the intimacy for which gay men look in gay bars.

Still, it was an avenue to meet friends. I met Peter and Tim, a newish couple who had started a cellular tower brokerage business and seemed to be cutting a fat hog.

I met Andy, who was a little older than I, but a first-rate chicken hawk. He chased only those too young for him.

I met Tom, the florist to anyone who was anyone in Kansas City. Tom went to New York to stock his business and to buy his clothes. He was "faster" than anyone else I met in Kansas City. He was ahead of the curve. He was a "tipper." When everyone else caught up to where he had been, he had already moved on to the next big thing.

Publicly, Tom was arrogant and stand-offish. Privately, he was engaging and warm. Over the course of our friendship, I realized he was slow to trust but, once he did, he was both trusting and trustworthy. It was hard to get in. Once you were in, it was impossible to get out.

We became close friends. When Cal was with Kate, I was with Tom.

"You live above Cal Lowden?" he asked at dinner one night, stunned.

"Sure do."

"My God, he's so hot. One time, just one time, I'd like to be the heiress. I'd rock his world."

I smiled on the inside. I knew what it was like to be the heiress. And to rock his world.

I longed to tell Tom about Cal. Instead, I said "It's not a big deal to be his tenant. He keeps to himself. It's not like he invites me down for drinks or comes up to borrow sugar. I rarely see him."

"Have you tried to peak through his windows?"

"No. I'm not a creeper."

"I wouldn't be able to help myself. Can you imagine watching him have sex with Kate? I bet it's hot as shit, watching his muscled ass fall and rise as he slides in and out of her tight little body."

I smiled again inside. It may have been hot as shit to creep on him and Kate, but not as hot as watching my dick slide in and out of his mouth or his body get slick with sweat as he hovered over me and slid in and out of me.

I thought of when he was silhouetted against the wall. I thought of when we watched ourselves in the mirror.

Tom and I became cuddly. Some non-Cal nights, we'd watch movies at my apartment or his and snuggle on the couch as we did. Larger than I, Tom would lie behind me, pulling my body into his. We'd watch movies as we spooned, his lithe body dwarfing mine.

Tom was single. I was not, but he couldn't and didn't know that.

I wondered if Tom would make a move on me. He regularly hinted at it.

When he was behind, I could often feel his dick against me. I had heard rumors about his size, and the mass pressing against me suggested the rumors were true. I could tell his dick was straight down, and I could feel the top of it between my butt cheeks, pressing up as he got hard.

One night, he shushed me as we watched "Miller's Crossing," one of my all-time favorites. I loved the Coen brothers.

"Listen," he said, moving toward the H-VAC vent by the television. "I think I can hear them fucking."

He laid flat on the floor and put his ear to the vent. "I can," he crowed. "I can hear them. They must be in the living room."

My stomach knotted. I had heard them a few times, but I always immediately put in headphones and turned music on loud enough to drown them out.

"This is so hot. Get over here."

"Listening to other people fuck does nothing for me."

"You're a freak. It makes me horny as hell. Look."

He was wearing gym shorts. He rolled off his stomach and showed me the outline of his massive hard on.

I opted for avoidance and deflection. "Jesus, Tom, you're the freak."

"I have a really big dick."

"No shit."

"You want to see it?"

I hesitated. I so wanted, but I also did not want. I relented. "Sure."

He pulled his shorts down and rolled onto his back. His dick rested on his abdomen, the head well above his navel. It was not only long, it was thick. It was like a baby's leg.

"It's pretty," I observed.

"I need to get off."

"Feel free."

"Right here?"

"Why not."

I watched him as he jerked off. When it was time, he had both hands around it. He came like a porn star, spraying over his shoulder onto my floor and then down the length of his torso. It was majestic.

I sat frozen as he stood up, went to the kitchen for a towel, and cleaned himself and then my floor.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I think so. I'm still stunned by what I just saw. You could be in movies."

"Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed the show."

"I did."

He moved next to me. Without saying a word, he moved his hand between my legs and said "I can tell. . . . You want me to get you off."

I did, but I didn't want to admit it. "I don't want to taint our friendship."

"Heh heh," he said, imitating Butthead. "You said taint."

I embraced Beavis. "I did! I did!"

"I can get you off without tainting anything. It'll just be one friend helping another."

His hand on my dick resolved my resistance. "Okay," I said, raising my hips and sliding my shorts to my knees. He returned his hand to my dick.

"I'd rather use my mouth," he suggested.

"Feel free."

He did, from the side. As I got close, I straightened my legs and raised my hips.

"I'm about to blow, Tom," I warned.

He kept at me. When I started to come, Tom inhaled deeply so he took my load directly down. He stayed at me until I couldn't let him stay at me any more.

"Thank you," I said, pulling up my shorts. "That was great."

He stayed over. I blew him and he blew me. I fucked him and he fucked me. We had sex all night. I was surprised the sun came up before I had slept.

"I should go," he said, after swallowing another load.

"You don't have to,"

"I do. This was a nice distraction. But, that's all it was. I don't want you, and you don't want me."

"You're smart."

"I'm not. Actually, I'm probably dumb. But, I'm insightful."

After Tom left, I was conflicted. On one hand, I felt bad that I had "cheated." On the other hand, I didn't know why, as my "boyfriend" was at the same time downstairs fucking someone else.

I tossed and turned wondering if I should tell Cal what had happened. Ultimately, I decided I should not. I concluded that, if it had been a mistake, then it was a mistake I should carry around myself.