Chapter 2 – Chapter 2

The living room was large, running the full depth of the original house, and, with a couple of sofas pulled back, there was plenty of room for dancing. Couples could even drift out into the even larger, all-glass, stone-floored conservatory, stuffed with large plants, that opened off the rear of the living room through an open double-door French door. The lights had been turned down low in the living room. Hammond obviously wanted the atmosphere to be romantic. He also wanted to maximize the possibilities. He continuously urged couples to mix and match—and to dance close together. He told them there were bedrooms available upstairs.

The dancing started at an overall level of comfort, established couples dancing together. Lawrence Shelton, the art professor, was dancing with his live-in, Marcus Taylor, the music department instructor. Chan Tang, the chef, was dancing with Cory Kavanagh, the history department instructor. The two English department undergraduates were huddled together. Troy was sitting with them and the three were chatting, ever conscious that someone might ask them to dance, thereby expressing an interest that would have to be considered. Brad, in fact, had headed for Troy to ask him to dance, but had been intercepted and taken onto the floor by Hammond. The novelist, Grimes, was sitting across the room from Troy, nursing a brandy and gazing into the distance, beyond the walls. The overly confident football player, Dale Hunter, had latched onto the Krogers clerk, Peter Lambert, and was squeezing the life out of the poor young man while they danced. They were kissing as much as dancing

After a couple of dances, the couplings changed. Lawrence Shelton pulled Troy up to the floor, Brad was dancing with the Krogers clerk, Chan Tang had Tim MacDonald in his clutches, Dale Hunter was mauling Jacob Bernstein, and the rest were standing around, talking university affairs, and ogling and, no doubt, rating the younger guests obviously brought there to interest the older guests.

Lawrence Shelton wasted no time at all expressing an interest in Troy while he held him close, just swaying in place, and squeezed one of Troy's butt cheeks with his hand.

"You modeled clothes for Aaron Bainbridge, didn't you?" he asked.

"Yes. For his catalog."

"So, you have experience as a photographer's model."

"A bit. There wasn't much catalog work involved."

"You have a very nice body. And you have the looks of a movie star."

"Umm, thanks," Troy said. He looked around the room to see if there might be rescue in sight. Shelton was not his type at all. And he had the hands of an octopus. The room had thinned out a bit. He saw Hammond pry Brad away from Peter Lambert and send him on an errand. Dale Hunter immediately took up Lambert and moved their dancing out into the conservatory. Chan wasn't anywhere to be seen, and Cory Kavanagh didn't look too pleased about that. The delicate blond student, Tim MacDonald, also was missing. Hammond was pulling Jacob Bernstein around the room, but they weren't dancing. Gideon Grimes was sitting where he'd been before.

"I do photography," Shelton whispered into Troy's ear.

"And teach a class in it too," Troy responded.

"I do some special photography, for special clients. Hammond said at the table that you may have trouble coming up with tuition money. Maybe I can help. Do you have any tattoos? Any birthmarks or other blemishes on your body?"

Troy didn't answer and after a moment, Shelton went on. "Have you done any all-male porn films? There's good money in that."

"Time to mix and match again," Hammond said, cheerily as he gently pried Shelton off of Troy. Troy wasn't sure if Hammond had heard the proposition and intervened because of that or not, but Troy was relieved he'd shown up.

"It's time to get Gideon out on the floor, and you're the one to do it, Troy," Hammond said.

Troy wasn't as relieved anymore. He'd enjoyed the table conversation with the novelist—if one can enjoy exchanging griefs about missing partners—but he'd gotten the clear impression that the man didn't want to be here. And he didn't see it as his, Troy's, responsibility to jolly the man up. Of everyone here, Troy was the one who could understand why Grimes wouldn't be in a party mood.

It took Hammond to get the two dancing, but Grimes was polite enough about it. "I have clumsy feet," Grimes said. "Maybe it would be best if we went out in the conservatory."

They did and Troy found that Grimes didn't have clumsy feet at all—that he was a great dancer. Troy fit comfortably in his arms. There was a nice scent about the man—something pine and clean—and they resumed their conversation of how difficult life was for them now and how hard it was to fight loneliness. "And to make up for what the other did all of those years," Grimes said. "I'm a klutz at anything technical. I haven't bothered to look for the thermostat in my house since my wife died, and it's getting colder. I wouldn't know what to do with it if I did find it."

"I know what you mean," Troy responded. "Aaron was always saying the same thing—that he'd be lost without me. But I found that it's I who am lost. My apartment is spick and span from top to bottom but I miss what he brought to the relationship. I wish he was there, making his little messes that he didn't clean up and screwing up his home maintenance projects."

"I wouldn't know where to start on a home maintenance project," Grimes said.

They were dancing closer together, swaying with the music. Troy felt the heat coming off the man—the sexual heat. And were they close enough together that he could feel arousal in Gideon as well? Yes he thought so. But then, Grimes suddenly stopped and his hold loosened on Troy. He lowered his hand hold, although he didn't let go of Troy's hand. Rather he was squeezing it tighter. Troy looked up into Gideon's face, to see that the man was looking beyond him, and his eyes were big. Then Troy saw it too.

There was a space amid the tall tropical plants where a chaise lounge had been placed. The lighting was dim, but Troy was able to pick out three figures—all naked. He immediately knew why the Krogers clerk, Peter Lambert, had been invited to the party. He was stretched out on his back on the lounge bed, his legs raised and spread. Dale Hunter was crouched between his legs and over his body and was fucking him. Brad, naked, was standing beside them, stroking his cock and watching them fuck. Lambert was grabbing Dale's shoulders in his hands and was moving his pelvis in counter thrust to Dale's cock, fully participating in the fuck and taking Dale deep and hard. Brad moved closer to Lambert's face and the clerk opened his mouth to take in Brad's shaft.

Troy felt Gideon suck in breath, but he didn't move. He had his eyes glued to the sex scene. He was squeezing Troy's hand hard, but Troy couldn't feel the pain. He was equally glued to the spot at the surprise and shock of what he saw. As they watched, Hunter ejaculated and pulled himself off Lambert. As he pulled away, Brad was turning Lambert and raising the young man on his knees. He was holding Lambert from behind just as he had held Troy earlier in the wine cellar. Lambert was allowing himself to be manipulated into any position Brad wanted him in. Brad covered the young man's mouth with one hand, used the other to position his cock, and then snaked his arm around Lambert's belly. The clutching and release of his bulbous butt cheeks and movement of his pelvis were evidence that he was fucking the grocery store clerk with deep strokes. He was fucking Lambert just like he had fucked Troy earlier. Hunter stood by, working his cock.

Troy heard the rumbling in Grimes's throat and turned his face up to the novelists, only, surprisingly, to feel Grimes's lips on his. Troy instinctively opened his mouth to Grimes, and they kissed, hungrily, as Grimes pulled Troy close into his body. There was no mistaking feeling the urgency of the need of the novelist's body this time. Troy melted in the novelist's grasp.

But then Grimes released him, growled a "Sorry, so sorry. I didn't mean to . . . sorry," and he fled the conservatory. Troy stayed on for a few more minutes, watching Brad fucking the young man who obviously had been invited here to provide just this service for Hammond's guests. But he wasn't really seeing the sex scene. He was fixated on the urgency and neediness of Grimes's kiss.

When Troy entered the living room, he sought out Hammond and mumbled, still feeling numb. "Sorry, Avril, I need to leave. It's late and I have studying to do."

"Oh, what a shame." He made no effort to dissuade Troy. "Did you drive over?" Avril asked.

"Yes, yes I did."

"Then can you do a favor? Gideon says he has to go home now too, but I brought him over from his house. His car is in the shop. Would you be a dear and give him a ride home? He's upstairs retrieving his coat."

"Sure, I'd be happy to," Troy said. His insides were doing flip-flops. Did Avril set all of this up? Was Gideon Grimes in on this? Was this just something the two of them hatched up to get Troy hooked up with Grimes? No, that couldn't be. At least he couldn't imagine the novelist being in on the planning. He'd opened up so slowly and then he'd have to have been a great actor to have feigned the surprise at seeing Brad and Dale fucking the Krogers clerk.

Would taking Grimes up and ending up in his bed be a bad thing, though? Troy couldn't think of a single reason why it would be.

Grimes was coming down the stairs with his coat as Troy was going up the stairs to retrieve his. The man still looked like he was in shock and moved like a zombie.

"Avril has asked me to drive you home, Mr. Grimes," Troy said. "I'll just be a minute. I'll get my coat."

"Gideon. Call me Gideon. No mister." His tone was a monotone and the words came out stilted. But then he stopped and put a hand on Troy's forearm and whispered, "Sorry" again.

Troy said "Sure thing," as he went past Grimes on the stairs. He was embarrassed that Grimes repeated the apology. The kiss had aroused him. It wasn't anything to be sorry for as far as he was concerned. Was Grimes sorry he'd kissed Troy? He'd found the kiss wanting? Should Troy be insulted? Damned if he knew.

When he got to the top of the stairs, he saw why the man still seemed to be in shock. One of the bedroom doors was open to the hall—not the bedroom the coats were in but another one—and he could see Chan Tang, naked, straddling Tim MacDonald, also naked, on the bed. Tim was on his belly on the bed, his pelvis elevated on pillows, and his arms were stretched above his head, his hands clutching the rungs of the headboard overhead. The bed was rocking against the wall and Chan was riding Tim's ass hard. There was a wide-eyed expression on Tim's face and tears in his eyes. The man Chan had brought to the party, the history instructor, Cory Kavanagh, was sitting, knees folded into his chest, against the wall beside the bed, rocking back and forth and watching his partner hard fuck the young student.