Finding Tim
A Fourth Alternate Reality

 by: Charlie

© 2005-2008

 

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Episode 16
Afterward

Tim and I awoke Wednesday morning lying together in a heap.  How we had slept neither of us knew.  Tim wiggled around so that he was spooned into me, and my arm reached around him and found his balls.  This was greeted by a little wiggle that set my hormones into action.  We didn’t know it then, but our happiest times together would prove to be as we lay spooned together at the end of the day, or as we planned to greet the new day.  Those moments became a time to talk, and also a time to appreciate what we had found in each other.  I was happier just holding Tim, and gently handling his penis and balls, than when we were actually having sex.  Not that I didn’t enjoy the sex, and I wouldn’t trade it in.  But I truly think that if I had to choose I would give up orgasms before I would give up my time hugging Tim’s backside, handling his genitals, and waiting for that little wiggle that set me off so.

 

“Tim, it’s Wednesday.  We have two days for our trip.  I was thinking of heading to Duluth.  Does that sound good to you?  We promised to be back on Friday evening.”

 

“When do you want to leave?”

 

“We need sex, showers, and food.  Then let’s be off.”

 

“I vote for no sex this morning.”

 

“Why on earth?”

 

“I’m well aware that we both are capable of having sex this morning, and this afternoon, and as we go to bed tonight.  But I want to be completely aroused as I drink you in today.  I don’t want anything we do now to lessen what’s going to come as the day goes on.  I want to be hot, and horny, and aroused all day as I look at you, talk to you, kiss you, and drink you in.  By the end of the day I intend to simply explode.”

 

“God, Tim, you’re making me hard as a rock.”

 

“So I can feel.”

 

“I guess I can make it all day.”

 

“Believe me, you can.”

 

With some reluctance we got up, and showered together.  We washed each other, but I didn’t give Tim enough time to bring me, nor did I take enough time with him.  I almost got him as I dried him, but he turned away.  It was going to be a long, hot day–in January in Minnesota.

 

Betsy, Mom (I was learning), made us breakfast, and told us that Dad wished us well, but had to be off to work early.  He would be at home on Friday when we got home and hoped for a full report, as did Mom.

 

With that we set off, heading toward Duluth. 

 

After about a half hour of driving and very little conversation, I said, “Tim, we have a lot of talking to do.”

 

“I know,” he said.  “But right now I’m just drinking in my happiness.  Just being with you in this car is so wonderful.  Being able to reach over and touch you, wow.  Pull over, I want to kiss you and be kissed back.”

 

I found a wide spot in the shoulder and pulled over.  Tim almost knocked me out the door as he leapt on me, kissing me passionately, deep and hard.  Our tongues tangled, and our heads rolled from side to side.  Slowly we relaxed, came up for breath, and just held each other.  Finally I gently pushed him off and said, “Shall we go on up the road?”

 

“No.”  And we started all over again.

 

This time it was Tim that suggested we move.  I considered doing unto him what he had done unto me, but I decided it really was time to head on up the road.  We had been there about fifteen minutes–for two kisses.

 

“What do we need to talk about?” asked Tim.

 

“That question can’t be for real.”

 

“I mean, let’s really think about all of the things that we have to decide.  Not that everything has to be decided in the next two days, but a lot does.”

 

“OK, you start ticking them off.”

 

“First, are you going to move to Minneapolis?  If so when?  Where will we live?”

 

“That’s a big one.  And it has to be settled immediately.  However, I think it really has been settled.”

 

“Second, where am I going to college?”

 

“And am I going with you?”

 

“Of course you are, that isn’t a question.  The question is, where will I go to college knowing that it has to be a place that works for you as well?”

 

“There are other options.”

 

“Living apart is not an option.  Period.  Full stop.  Non-negotiable.  Immovable object.  Irresistible force.  Whatever.”

 

“I think you made your point.  Third, coming out.  It was on the list that I created in my mind over the last few months, maybe years, but we settled it Monday evening.  It could still be tough: High school senior, age 18, living with a man 24, clearly having sex.  That’s going to blow some minds.  It may become an issue at school.”

 

“I don’t think it’ll be a problem.  Only time will tell.  But we’ve made the necessary decisions about coming out.  However, we need to spend some time on this trip thinking through the details of the coming out and the commitment ceremony–I think some of our plans may present problems.”

 

“Like what?” I asked.

 

“The Gang’s going to want to be at both the coming out and the commitment, but we’ve planned them for a week apart.  We can’t ask the Gang to sit around Minneapolis for a week, and they can’t make two trips.”

 

“Good point.  Rethinking those plans is pretty important. Financial arrangements, fourth.”

 

“We’ll need to have a long talk with my Dad about that.”

 

“Our Dad.  I claim him now too.”

 

“Oh God, Charlie, that’s so wonderful.  We get talking about all this practical stuff, and then a comment like that brings me back to the unreal world I’m living in.  It’s like make-believe, but it’s all coming true.  It’s like the fairy tale has ended, Prince Charming got the guy, and now they’re living happily ever after.”

 

“Not everyone in the world’s going to be that enthusiastic about fairy tales in which the Prince gets the guy.  He’s supposed to be off slaying dragons in order to get the girl.”

 

“God, what silliness.  I would slay dragons only for my guy.”

 

“Bring on the dragons, I’d fight my way through a whole nest of them, if you were on the other side.”

 

“Charlie, we have another big item to think about.”

 

“And that would be?”

 

“Your parents.”

 

“Not a problem.  Well, that’s not right.  It’s just not a difficult decision.  They’re expecting me to visit in a week or so, bringing a former camper with me.  They know it’s you, and are quite excited about meeting a national sports figure, and they’re kind of proud that their son knows you so well.  They’re planning a big party to introduce you to their friends.  If things go well, it might be a coming out party.  Coming out is going to be a tough reality for them.  When you and I come out, it’ll be national news.  They won’t be able to keep it secret from their friends.”

 

“I hadn’t thought about that.  Regardless, I’m eager to meet them.”

 

“I want you to.  I can’t believe that they won’t fall in love with you, you loveable little superboy.  But we’ll have to see.  Be warned.  Mom and Dad, that is your parents, are very unusual parents.  Your expectations about parents are way out of kilter.  Just ask almost any of your school classmates.”

 

“I’m well aware of that.  I can’t believe some of the stuff I hear about parents at school.”

 

“And a lot of those friends that tell you those stories treat their parents pretty badly as well.  You and your Mom and Dad have a virtually unique relationship.  It’s part of what makes you the wonderful boy you are.”

 

“Let’s talk about the rest of this school year.  It would seem there are four choices.”

 

“Four?  And those would be?”

 

“One, you move to Minneapolis.  Two, I move to Des Moines.  Three, we live apart.  Four, we live together somewhere else.”

 

“Some of those don’t seem very realistic.”

 

“Obviously, but they are, I believe, the full set of choices.  Let me add that at my age, there’s no compulsory school attendance.  I assume that I’ll finish high school and go to college, but it doesn’t have to be this year.  Nothing should be off the table.”

 

“Your not finishing high school is off the table.”

 

“Wait a minute.  We make these decisions together.”

 

“I wasn’t making a decision, I was stating the obvious.”

 

“OK.  I agree with that,” said Tim.

 

“Back to your four choices.  Des Moines seems unrealistic.  If we’re going to live together I can’t imagine any reason for choosing a location other than Minneapolis.  That leaves living apart.”

 

“Out of the question.”

 

“I agree.  But we can’t rule that option out until we work out a viable plan for my moving to Minneapolis.”

 

“You’re moving to Minneapolis and we’re living together.  I’m not going to live in the same town with you and not share a bed with you.  Period.”

 

“That would seem to lead us to two more choices: I live at your house, or we find a new place to live.  I think we’ve gone about as far as we can with this without talking to your folks.”

 

“No, when we talk to my folks, we need to know what we think.  It may be changed by what they think, or what they’ll go along with, but we should know what we think.”

 

“I don’t have a job in Minneapolis.”

 

“I’m sure that can easily be arranged.”

 

“Probably.  But I might not earn enough to pay for an apartment for both of us.”

 

“Let’s think about what we want, then we’ll see if it’s possible.”

 

“Look, Tim.  Let’s get to the heart of this.  Would we like to live with your folks for the next six months or so?”

 

“Would you?”

 

“I think so.  As I said, your folks are unique.  They really are wonderful people.  I know that things might get strained, but I don’t think so.  I think living with them would be a great experience.”

 

“God, I think it took us half way to Duluth for you to figure that out.  I figured it out about two years ago, but I wanted it to be your decision.”

 

I pulled the car over at the next opportunity, grabbed him, rolled him over, and spanked him.  He was giggling so hard I could hardly hold him.  Then he started tickling me, only stopping when he grabbed me and kissed me again.  Then he grabbed my groin and squeezed a little.  “That’s for the spanking,” he tried to say through his giggles.

 

“May I start the car going again.”

 

“Sure, if you think you can.”  He tickled some more.

 

“Do you think your folks’ll go for the idea?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“You sound quite positive.  I think I know what that means.  I’ve really been had in all of this.”

 

“Yes, I’ve already talked to my folks.  No, you weren’t had.  If your thinking had moved in another direction, I would’ve followed you–to the moon and back if necessary.  We could live together in Timbuktu.  The only thing that never really was on the table was living separately.”

 

“And it’s obvious that we were both thinking along similar lines, because we’re planning a commitment ceremony for Minneapolis in six weeks.”

 

“I’m glad we had the previous conversation.  It made the final decision a truly joint decision.”

 

“Next, college.  And don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.  Don’t even try to tell me that you haven’t got a complete plan.  This time, just spill it.”

 

“OK.  You win.  But I’m afraid that if I lay it all out you won’t take ownership of the plan.”

 

“I know, Mr. Psychologist.  You want to lead me into thinking that whatever you’ve decided in advance is my own idea.  Well, just remember,  you’re smart.  But so am I.  Don’t try to play games with me, and I won’t with you.  If we’re going to be happy tegether, we need to learn to lay it out on the table.  No secrets.  At the same time, we both have to learn to give the other’s opinion fair hearing, and never play, ‘Not invented here.’”

 

“I wouldn’t do that.”

 

“Then don’t think that I would.  Promise?”

 

“Promise.  And you?”

 

“Promise.  Now let’s hear those college plans.”

 

“Next year we move to Grand Forks, North Dakota, and I enter the University of North Dakota.  You come along, we get an apartment off campus.  You get a job.  The following year you enter the University of North Dakota Law School.  Three years later we graduate together.”

 

“Whoa.  That’s quite a plan.”

 

“You said not to hold back.”

 

“Right.  Alright, from the beginning.  Why North Dakota?”

 

“I’ve thought about this a lot, and done research.  I like the mid-western state universities.  Michigan, Minnesota, Iowa, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana–some of the finest schools in the world.  From what I’ve read and learned talking to teachers, and you, I want to stay in the Midwest for college.  Eastern schools are snobbish.  I don’t want any part of that.  I could’ve been tempted by Minnesota, but I couldn’t deal with the diving coach.  And I have a confession to make.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“I want to be a big duck in a small pond.  I think that I–no I don’t mean  ‘I’, I mean ‘we’–can have an impact at a smaller school.  North Dakota has about 6 to 7000 students.  But it’s the major university of the state.  Some of the state colleges in Minnesota, Wisconsin, or Michigan are smaller, but they aren’t top dog in the state.  And they don’t have law schools.  And, to top off everything else, ND has tuition reciprocity with Minnesota.”

 

“That all makes sense.  But when did you decide I would go to law school?  Do I get  some say in that?”

 

“Of course, but you told me to lay it all out.  That’s part of the idea that had to be laid out.  Besides, law school for you’s a no-brainer.  That’s the way your mind works.  You’re a natural lawyer.  Who else but a lawyer could’ve dreamed up one letter a month, no playing until the eighteenth birthday–to the day–not even sex the day before?  Don’t try to tell me you aren’t a lawyer.   And, besides, I love you all the more for it.”

 

“Tim, I can’t afford to go to law school.”

 

“Pish.  You can.  You’ll be a ND resident after you spend a year there while I’m a freshman.  Besides, we’re dreaming about what we want, not limiting our thoughts to what a person with no imagination might think was possible.”

 

“Law school.  I have thought about it.  I was never sure that I wanted to take the three years.  The bar exam is scary.”

 

“Oh for Christ sakes.  Talk like the new Charlie.  I don’t want to hear your shit or your Bullshit.”

 

“Can I think about all of this?”

 

“Of course.  How about over lunch?  There’s a diner coming up, according to the last billboard.  Give me an answer right after lunch.”

 

I pulled into the parking lot of the diner.  We had a pretty good lunch, talking about what we might do for the rest of the day.  After lunch, Tim drove and we headed to Duluth, expecting to get there pretty quickly.

 

We had been going about five minutes when Tim said, “Well?”

 

“Well, what?”

 

“North Dakota, law school, the whole nine yards.”

 

There wasn’t any point in beating around the bush.  I had dreamed of law school, but it seemed a long road.  Now, traveling that road with Tim seemed like the most wonderful idea in the world.  Why kid myself?  Tim had laid out a perfect plan.  It suited him.  It suited me.  Could we make it work?  Maybe?  I hoped so.  But right now was the time to be honest.

 

“Tim, I’m in love with your plan,. North Dakota it is.  Next fall.  No looking back, just ahead.”

 

“Charlie, do you really mean it?  You’re not saying this just because you think it’s what I want?”

 

“Tim, don’t go there.  We’ll always tell the truth to each other, and accept that the other is telling the truth.  I said I’m in love with your plan.  I truly am.  If I had hesitations, I would tell you. I don’t.  Don’t you go putting them into my mind when they aren’t there.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“Let’s stop at a hotel in Duluth, walk around the town.  Eat dinner.  Then spend the evening doing all kinds of forbidden things and loving each one–and each other.”

 

“Sounds wonderful.  Drive downtown and we’ll find the best hotel in town.”

 

We did.  We checked in, and didn’t even get a raised eyebrow from the clerk, who I assume made assumptions about our relationship based on our obvious age difference rather than the fact the we were the same gender.  We walked about the downtown.  We held hands as we walked, and damn anybody who stared.  We simply didn’t care.  Once he kissed me right in the middle of a downtown block.  I don’t know who noticed, my eyes were closed and I was enjoying Tim.

 

We had dinner at The Flame–great steaks.  Then back to the hotel.

 

Tim said, “Lose those clothes.  I want to talk more, and we have lots of time, but clothes won’t be needed till we go out tomorrow morning.”  With that he lost his, almost magically.  But Tim had always been a master at losing clothes–I remembered back to his losing his swim suit on his last demonstration dive at Camp White Elk.  I mentioned this to Tim.

 

“My drawstring broke.  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”

 

“I don’t believe you.”

 

“We’re supposed to believe each other.  We’re truthtellers, remember?”

 

“This is colored by your sexiness.  I don’t believe you.”

 

“Suit yourself.”

 

“Oh, what an awful pun.”

 

“Eat me.”

 

I grabbed him and started to do precisely that.  I had hardly gotten my mouth on his dick what he said, “Wait.  We really need to talk first.”

 

“I want dessert,” I said.

 

“I want to talk.  I want to talk more about college.  It’s important, at least to me.  And I think to you.”

 

“I want to suck you.”

 

“Oh, all right.  I won’t say no.  But I won’t suck you until after we’ve talked.”

 

I grabbed him, tossed him on the bed, and buried his dick in my mouth.  My tongue was so active, he didn’t have a chance.  It was almost instant cum.  I sucked and swallowed it all, and then kissed him.  His tongue entered my mouth, but he couldn’t find any of his cum left.  Exhausted, we lay back.

 

“Now I’m going to be mean.  No orgasm for you until you hear me out.”

 

“I’ll jack off while you talk.”

 

He jumped on me and started tickling.  Laying there nude I didn’t have a chance.  “OK, OK.  I’ll listen.  Then you suck–or something.”

 

“Here it is.  We had the new Hal.  Then the new Charlie.  Then the new Tim.”

 

“I was never sure what the ‘new Tim’ was.  You were perfect to begin with.”

 

“I want to take this to a new plane: I want to take the new team of Charlie and Tim to Grand Forks.  I want us to be occupied with just three things in North Dakota.  First, our love–and sex.  Second, our friends.  We don’t know who they’ll be.  We don’t need a lot, but without friends the world isn’t worth living in.”

 

“And the third?”

 

“Making an impact on the University of North Dakota.”

 

“Making an impact?”

 

“Yes, I want to hit that town running and not stop till they all have stood up and taken notice.  You and I are going to be the biggest thing that ever happened to that University.  I don’t want to be a big duck in a small pond.  I want to be two elephants in a puddle.”

 

“You have no lack of imagination or ambition.”

 

“Neither do you Charlie.  But your imagination exceeds your ambition–or at least it did for the old Charlie.  I want to take the new Charlie to new heights.  And I want you to drag Tim along with you.”

 

“Tim, you and I both know that you’ll be dragging me.”

 

“Bullshit.”

 

“There you go.”

 

“Bullshit.  Don’t sell yourself short.  To accomplish what I want to accomplish we both have to be slave drivers, of ourselves and of each other.”

 

“You’re serious?”

 

“Dead serious.”

 

“I need to think about this.”

 

”Bullshit.  You’re excited by the idea; it’s romping through your imagination as you explore all sorts of permutations, you know it’s what you want, but you’re afraid.”

 

I started to cry.  “Tim, I so want to be what you want me to be.  But I’m not sure that I have the determination.”

 

“Charlie, I’ll love you just as much no matter who you are.  I loved the old Charlie.  I love the new Charlie.  I’ll love whatever Charlie comes down the pike.  But I want Charlie to love the newest Charlie.  You need only say ‘Yes’ and we’ll fly together to higher heights than you ever imagined. No fairy tale’s ‘happily ever after’ could hold a candle to where we’re going.  Please come with me.”

 

“Tim, my love, how could I say no?  Dream on.  Even if we don’t make it to where you’re dreaming, we’re still going to have the most wonderful adventure.  It we make it, whatever ‘it’ turns out to be, we’ll be the luckiest couple in the world.  Fly on, my love.”

 

We hugged, and we both knew that we had reached a turning point.  We both sensed that there was no turning back.  The extraordinary lives that we’ve led started right then, that evening in a Duluth hotel–name forgotten.  The sex that followed was such that we were bouncing off the walls all night.  There’s no point in trying to describe it, if you can think of it, we did it.  When we finally came down, sometime in the middle of the night, we spooned together, and I said to Tim, “Just exactly what’ve I gotten myself into, lover?”

 

“Incredibly hard work, determined self-discipline, a slave-driving, but loving, task master, sex, love, friends, and work.  Remember our canoe trip at camp?”

 

“I’ll never forget it.”

 

“Remember how you developed that incredibly strong rhythm in your bow stroke?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And how nobody could keep up with you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“That’s a metaphor for your life to come.  An incredibly strong rhythm–in everything you do.  And in everything I do.  And in everything we do together.”

 

“Do you have specific things in mind?  I suspect you do.”

 

“Summa cum laude for me.  Editor of the Law Review for you.  I want to dive in the Olympics.  Hell, I might just as well spill it all.  I want to do two sports.  I want to be on the Olympic diving team and the gymnastics team.  I don’t even know if that’s possible.  But I can dream, right?  Oh, yes, you’ll be an Olympic archer, and we’ll walk hand in hand in the opening ceremony procession–and damn the world if they don’t like it.”

 

“Go on, this is fun.”

 

“You’re going to clerk for a Supreme Court Justice. We’ll go back to the University of North Dakota and together we’ll run the place.  We’ll build it into a world class institution.”

 

“You dream wonderful fairy tales.”

 

“Maybe they are fairy tales.  Maybe they are dreams.  Maybe we’ll get there.  But the new new Charlie and the new new Tim are going to have a Hell of a good time trying.”  With that I got my final wiggle of the evening, to which I responded by squeezing his dick.  We fell asleep wrapped together.

 

The phone rang.  I answered it, and the hotel clerk said, “It’s seven o’clock, sir.  This is your wake-up call.”  Before I could scream at the idiot who had wakened me, Tim was bouncing out of bed laughing his head off.  He grabbed the phone before I could throw it, hung it up, and then grabbed me and kissed me.

“Good morning, new new Charlie.  We start now.  No sleeping the day away.  We start with sex, then breakfast, then sex again.  Then a walk around downtown, then sex again.  Then we check out and drive up the north shore.  I assume that the road’s open, there hasn’t been too much snow.”

 

We did it all.  Sex three times before noon.  At Tim’s insistence we walked in short sleeves.  We were gone about an hour, and it was below freezing, and with the breeze off Lake Superior I don’t even want to think about the wind chill.  I asked Tim what the idea was.

 

“First, it’s self discipline.  You won’t die, and you won’t catch a cold.  And there are lots of buildings so we can get shelter if we get too cold and need it.  Second, when we get back to the room you’ll hug me so tight I’ll be in seventh heaven.  And the other way around.  And third, unless we’re talking frostbite, or hypothermia, being cold is all in the mind.  And the new new Charlie, and the new new Tim, are going to control their minds with new new self-discipline.”  All this while we were walking the streets of Duluth, holding hands, and moving at breakneck speed.  We never once sought refuge in a warm building, or even a cold but windless nook or cranny.  We swung down by the lake and headed back.  We covered just under four miles.

 

Tim was right.  Back in the room we stripped off our clothes–what little there was of them–and warmed up by hugging each other.  I think it was the best, and certainly the longest, hug we had ever had.  Shower, sex (69)–the first time we had a mutual orgasm with it–and shower again.  Then we packed up and checked out.  If Tim’s prescription for the rest of our lives was even half as accurate as his prescription for the morning, we were in for quite a time!

 

Travel up the north shore of Lake Superior’s a beautiful trip–in summer.  In winter it was gray.  The snow was pretty, but the shoreline was uninteresting with all of the rocks covered, the streams not flowing, and the steps to various viewpoints so icy they were dangerous to climb, and often closed.  Motels were closed.  Of course, we were much more interested in each other than in scenery, but nevertheless we decided to turn back.  I said, “Let’s sleep tonight in Wisconsin instead of Minnesota.  We’ll cross over to Superior and stay at a motel there.  It’ll be cheaper than the downtown hotel in Duluth.”

 

So that’s what we set out to do.  However, at a gas station, a young man got to talking with us and suggested that we drive over to Ashland, about an hour east.  There was a nice club there, Scotty’s, that served a good steak at a reasonable price, and there were decent motels in Ashland–open in winter.  It sounded like a good idea and we set out for Ashland.

 

The conversation moved to coming out and related plans.  Tim said, “Charlie, we’ve got to put the coming out and the commitment on the same weekend.”

 

“You’re right.  And you have to think of one other thing, you’re heavily involved with two teams.  If we come out at a diving meet, what’re you going to say to the gymnasts, and when?”

 

“The Southwest Diving Invitational’s on Friday.  I’m pretty sure that the Minneapolis Gymnastics Invitational’s Saturday.  The St. Paul Club isn’t going, but I’m sure that they could get an invitation if Coach John asked.  We could do something similar there.   But since people will be expecting it–its bound to be very public by Saturday morning if the press is at the swim meet–we ought to make the announcement before the meet.  I’m sure that that could be set up.”

 

“That sort of puts the commitment on Sunday, after the coming out.  That’s the reverse of what we talked about.  Think it would work?”

 

Tim said, “The commitment’s going to be private–probably pretty big, but private.  I don’t think it’ll hurt for it to be after the coming out.  Invitations will be a problem.  We can’t exactly print and mail an invitation and expect it not to leak, and that blows the coming out.”

 

“Let’s think who we want at this commitment.  Everyone at the birthday party–they all know.  Our families–they know.  The Gang–they know.  Your teammates–they won’t know till the day before.  Some other local friends will also fit that category.”

 

“I’ll just send out a party invitation; maybe Tina and I could.  Basically tell people there’s a party planned, 4:00 p.m. Sunday, details and location to be announced in due course.”

 

“I’m not sure I’d get Tina involved.  Wouldn’t it be embarrassing for her to be so plainly associated with your involvement with me.”

 

“I think she’d like the idea.  Believe me, she’s just like me, if she doesn’t like it, she’ll tell us.”

 

“There are some events, probably meals, that I would like to have in conjunction with all this.”

 

“And they are?”

 

“We need a private time with the Gang, and just the Gang.”

 

“Right.”

 

“I would like to have a private dinner with just you and me and Tina and Phil.”

 

Tim replied, “And add in Franklin and also Priscy if she’s here.  And Jane.”

 

“You’re pretty good to remember Jane’s name.  But,I was thinking of just the four of us together.”

 

“I know, but Franklin knows everything about us, and I would hate to leave him out.  Priscy was special to you, and she should be there.  And if Franklin’s coming, so should Jane.”

 

At this point we got to Scotty’s.  He did serve a good steak, and it was very quiet on a winter night.  Our conversation continued.  “Tim said, I think a very private meal with Tina, Priscy and Phil, and their current partners  would be wonderful.  Sort of a rite of passage.  Joyous, not sad.  But there’ll be seven at that meal.”

 

“It’s going to make me look a lot more promiscuous than you.  You’ll just have Tina there.”

 

“Maybe you are.  I’ll just have to watch you more carefully,” said Tim.

 

“We also need to gather mainly the group that was at the birthday party, but add whatever out of town family and guests I have.  Sort of the equivalent of the rehearsal dinner.”

 

“How does this all fit into one weekend?”

 

I said, “Here’s how, and I’m not sure that there’s any other way to do it: Friday the Gang and others arrive.  Let’s see if Hal can get off school and help me play host as people arrive.  You’re going to be at school.  Coach Nelson tells the boys there’s a special event planned–at  the gym as soon after school as possible, and plan on a team dinner after the meet.  We come out to the team before the meet, invite them to dinner–with family and girlfriends, and come out as planned after your last dive.  Dinner.  Sleep.  Maybe.

 

“Saturday breakfast with the Gang, alone.  Maybe we can clear the house of people that morning and have breakfast with the Gang at home.  Mid-morning:  partners join us, along with Tina, Carl, and Carol.  We have lunch.  We’ll have to leave immediately for the gymnastics meet.  Same routine as the night before, with dinner for that team afterward. 

 

“Sunday breakfast at a restaurant with the seven.  Lunch with the extended family and friends.  Commitment Sunday at 4:00.  Refreshments for everybody afterward.”

 

“It works!” smiled Tim.  “Details later.”

We got a motel and headed to bed, for sex, more talk, and sleep,  in that order.

 

Tim always got his clothes off faster than me, or anybody else for that matter.  I looked at his penis and testicles and remembered the little immature things he had shown off four years ago at camp.  They had certainly matured.  While not overly large, they were man-sized and mature.  As I watched, his penis got hard and rose to point straight at me.  “I think it recognizes me,” I said.

 

“It’d better,” he replied.  “Charlie get those clothes off.  My dick’s lonely.”

 

“OK.”  Soon my undershorts came off, the last to go. 

 

We lay down on the bed, spooned together.  As I tickled his balls gently, and received his little wiggle, two or three of them in fact, he said, “We’ve jacked each other off, sucked each other, done 69, and who knows what.  But what do you like best?”

 

“Tim, I like it all.  I’m not sure that I like anything best.  I wouldn’t want to be stuck in a rut.”

 

“Do you want to fuck me?  You haven’t.”

 

“I’m not sure.  One side of me says that that’s the ultimate experience.  The other says that it doesn’t interest me much.”

 

“That’s kind of how I feel, but I’d like to try it.  Will you fuck me?”

 

“Of course.  I’d walk through fire for you, what’s a little thing like fucking?  Besides I would like to try it as much as you would.  I just don’t think that it’s either of our priorities.  Tonight?”

 

“I think so.”

 

“Hold it.  Before I’m going into you we need lubricant.  We haven’t used it before.  Either you brought it with you, we get dressed and go out and get some, or we wait until another night.”

 

“I guess it’s the last.  But use your finger and play around down there.  If it hurts I’ll tell you.”

 

He laid over on his back and raised his legs in the air, exposing his tight little ass.  I separated his buns and went to work.  With saliva on my finger I could easily insert my finger, but it didn’t go far in with that little lubricant.  Tim’s reaction was that it “felt good” but not much more.

 

Turn about being fair play he did unto me.  I found it to be an unusual feeling, but not a big deal. We neither of us found the prostate gland, and weren’t too excited to return to that portion of our anatomies that evening.  I turned to my mouth and worked at trying to swallow his balls.  He suggested that I might have more luck with his sperm, so I set to on his dick.  It wasn’t long before I had a meal to swallow, but he yelled, “Share, share.”

 

I kissed him and shared.  We hugged a long time and then he took me on.  Instead of sucking, he licked the underside of my dick until I came.  The cum hit his nose and he rubbed it all over me.  It was definitely time for a shower.  As we let the warm water flow over us Tim said, “I never want to get bored with sex.  Different ways, different places, different times, what about different people, especially some of the Gang?”

 

“I’m not sure I want to share you.”

 

“Don’t be selfish.”

 

“With you I can be.”

 

At that point he started soaping my balls and the conversation ended, for the moment.  It continued in bed.  With his little wiggle Tim said, “That’s reserved for you.  But is three-way or four-way sex really off limits?  Is it OK for one of us, or both, to try a girl who’s willing and knows the score?  If you’re away, can I relieve myself with a friend, Franklin for example?”

 

“We’ve put off any kind of decision as to what our commitment to each other means.  I’m not really sure.  I understand both points of view.”

 

“Me too.  And I’m not advocating either side, just keeping the subject open and in front of us.”

 

“I understand.  Let’s leave it like this.  At some time, sooner or later, we’ll know.  And when we know, we’ll make sure that there’s a clear understanding between us.  In the meantime the door’s open, but neither of us goes through it without the other knowing first.  And we don’t get into a threesome, foursome, or anythingsome without talking privately first.  Is that fair?”

 

“I’m happy with that.  You put in words what I was thinking.”

 

“Good night, lover.  This morning was your morning–walking in the snow!  God.  Tomorrow morning is my morning–and you better not have put in a wake-up call.”

 

“Good night.”  Wiggle.  “I love you.”  Wiggle.  And he got back plenty of gentle action around his gonads as we drifted off to a very contented sleep.

 

We had actually gotten to sleep fairly early, about 10:30, and I woke early, about quarter to seven.  I woke Tim by sucking his dick.  He started to move away and get up, but I stopped him, pulled him back, and finished the job.  He decided that the proper response was to tickle me, and he was merciless.  He moved from my ribs to my stomach, down to my groin and to my balls and finally my dick.  I came almost instantly.  He immediately hugged me and we took our cum covered bodies to the shower.

 

“OK, what’s on for today?” Tim asked.

 

“First a good breakfast.  There’s a diner up on main street.  I hope it’s good.”

 

It was.  And we sat for a long while as I laid out our day.

 

“We drive up to Bayfield, about a half hour drive along the north shore of Chequemegon Bay.”

 

“What’s that word?  It that the long word that I’ve seen on everything around here?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“How did you pronounce it?”

 

“Sha-WA-mi-gun.”

 

“It looks like “check-qua-ME-gun”. 

 

“You’ll seem smart to the locals if you pronounce it correctly.”     

 

“Are you sure you got it right?  How do you know?”

 

“Remember, my family has a cabin over in the UP, near camp.  I’ve been around this area since I was a little guy.”

 

“OK, so we’re going to Bayfield.  What’s there?”

 

“A little burg.  Artsy in the summer, and some in the winter.  In the summer there’s a ferry to Madeline Island, in the Apostle Islands.”

 

“And in winter?”

 

“The road runs over the ice.  The state highway’s marked right over the ice, with highway route markings, speed limits, the whole nine yards.”

 

“And on Madeline Island?”

 

“Lunch at the Fireside.  The only place to eat on the island.”

 

“And then?”

 

“They won’t be busy.  There’s a nice lounge, a fire will be going or they’ll start one for us, and we can sit by the fire, look out over the lake, and talk.  We have four years of talking to do.”

 

“Charlie, that’s wonderful.  Let’s go.”

 

It was just as I had remembered, except that my memories were all from summer.  I knew about the ice road, but had never been on it.  The Fireside had told me in summer about the fire in the winter–it was, after all, the name of the place.  But the winter experience was as new to me as it was to Tim, and we were enchanted by it together.  We had a rack of lamb for two, a nice dessert (divided in two, Tim reminded me that we were watching our weight),  and got Cokes to take in by the fire, where we could be alone with the lake view.

 

“Tim, would you be drinking beer or something if you were 21 instead of 18.”

 

“No.  Alcohol doesn’t interest me.  And, as I remember it, you don’t drink at all.”

 

“That’s right.  How do you feel about serving drinks to friends?”

 

“It’s OK.  It we’re going to be good hosts we need to serve drinks.  But I’m not going to use your age to get alcohol for underage students at the University.  And we don’t have to put up with drunks at our home either.  I’m afraid I don’t have much patience with student drinking, at least not student over-drinking.”

 

“I wonder when we’re going to find something we really disagree on?”

 

“Never.  We think alike.  It’s our gift from the Gods.”

 

“When it hits, it’ll hit hard.  There must be something lurking out there.”

 

“I’m sure there is.”

 

I continued, “New subject.  Are you up-to-date on the rest of the Gang.?

 

We pooled our information about the other six.  I learned that Tom and Nancy had decided to go to the University of Chicago.  They were going to live in the dorms, have roommates, try to act like normal students, and see if love and marriage were really in the cards for them.  Tim said, “You must’ve given them a real good steer, the last I had heard they couldn’t make up their mind about anything.”

 

“Tim, lovers always put the other person first.  They weren’t doing that.  When they realized the implications of that, the problems solved themselves.  They realized they weren’t ready for marriage, and it appears that they learned enough to be able to settle on a good school.  I didn’t even talk about college choice.”

 

Tim asked, “Are Jim and Andy gay?  Well, yes, of course they are.  I guess the question is, are they ever going to find girls?”

 

“I hope they do.  Not that there’s anything wrong with their loving each other.  But they both seem eager to find a girl.  If they end up with each other they’re going to go through life feeling cheated.  If they find nice girls but it doesn’t work out, then they’ll be content with each other.”

 

Tim thought for a while, seemingly running down the list of the Gang in his mind.  “Hal and Sue live in the Twin Cities.  They’ll be nearby.  Tina and I have already had pretty wonderful sex with them.  I would guess that they’ll be the first test of our understanding regarding the nature of commitment.”

 

“Shall we agree now that a four-way of some sort with them would be OK?”

 

“Yes, let’s,” said Tim.  “And one other thing.  Every boy in the Gang wants to have sex with you.  You’ve slept with all of them, and they were all frustrated by the line you insisted upon, even though they abided by it.”

 

“I know, and I told every one of them that it was up to you whether there would ever be sex.”

 

“Don’t think that they haven’t let me know that!”

 

“Did you answer?”

 

“No, it really isn’t up to me, it’s up to us.  How do you feel about it?”

 

“As you know full well, it’s one sexy group.  You’ll enjoy them as well.  Let’s agree that they’re on, with whatever partners they bring.  But remember, if we go with one, we’re going to have to go with all.  Only after we have had an experience with all the members of the group could we decide that our commitment excluded all others.”

 

“I think we’ll be able to make up our minds after we experiment with the six of them.”

 

“I think so to.  And I have an idea which way we’re going.  And I agree that fun and games with all the Gang’ll give us all of the experience we need to make an informed decision.”

 

“Charlie, a lot of people would say that we’re setting out on a very immoral life.  Not just because we’re of the same sex, but because we’re talking about group sex, and multiple partners.  Others would be very upset by the gay sex, particularly if it becomes anal, which we’ve said we want to try.  Are we sure that we’re right and the rest of the world’s wrong?”

 

“I am.  I think you’re sure.  The rest of the Gang seem to agree.  Amazingly most of our parents either agree or realize that the decision’s ours.  None of them are preaching against us.  But I don’t think that’s the issue.  Morality isn’t settled by popular vote.  I think that the issue is really quite simple, ‘Are we hurting anyone?’  My answer is, ‘No.’  If that answer’s correct, then it seems to me that that settles the moral issue.  We aren’t making babies; we aren’t hurting anyone; we aren’t forcing anyone.  No one is told that they can’t be our friends without having sex with us.  Those would all be immoral things.  But I only see love.  So love gets physical.  That’s a good thing, to me.

 

“I’m preaching, Tim.  But I really firmly believe, in my heart of hearts, that sex is for people to enjoy.  Responsibly.  Lovingly.  Respectfully.  Beyond that the operative word is enjoy.”

 

“Would you mind having this conversation with Mom and Dad?  On New Year’s Eve when Tina and I went upstairs, Tina made it plain to all of our parents that we were going to fuck for the first time.  She said that you had written that you had no reservations, and she hoped that the parents wouldn’t.  Dad answered that he did have reservations.  He seemed quite impressed that you, Charlie, could honestly have no reservations.  He said that they were all accepting, and that we didn’t need permission.  He said that his reservations were his problem, not ours, but that he couldn’t help but have reservations.”

 

I said, “Tim, I hope you recognized the love and acceptance contained in that speech.”

 

“Believe me, I did.  So did Tina.  But that’s why I’d like to have the morality discussion with Mom and Dad.  I’d like to have their reservations on the table.  We need to add them to our discussions.  Really understanding them might lead us to different conclusions about sex.”

 

“I’m willing to discuss anything, Tim.  And certainly with Mom and Dad.  And I am open to having my mind changed.  And it ‘ll work, because your Mom and Dad are open to our not changing our minds.  We’ll all be able to live with whatever our conclusions are.  They might end up agreeing with us.”

 

“They aren’t far off that now,” said Tim.

 

“The fire’s burning down.  It’s time to head home.  We can get a good trout dinner in Ashland, and be home before eleven.”

 

“I’d love a good dinner.  But let’s get hamburgers on the run, so that we can be home by 9:30 to 10:00.  Mom and Dad’re going to want to hear abut the trip.”

 

And so ended our honeymoon, and began our lives together.  We never looked back.

To be continued...

 

Posted: 05/16/08