Delight and Despair
By: Morris Henderson
(Copyright 2014 by the author)
 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

 NOTE: This is the final story in a trilogy.

Reading the first two stories

is recommended but not required. 

For eight years...

...I was supremely happy.  Will and I enjoyed a committed partnership in spite of differences in our personalities that might have doomed our finding each other, much less becoming a couple.  I was raised in a relatively isolated rural community while Will grew up in urban New York City.  As a child, I was devoutly religious but evolved into an agnostic.  Will’s childhood was devoid of any religious teaching but in adulthood he studiously explored the precepts of multiple religions.  When we met the most significant deterrent to our relationship was our preferred style of thinking.  My left brain dominated and focused my mind almost exclusively on hard facts, logical analysis, and problem solving that propelled me to become a mechanical engineer.  Will, however, relied on his right brain, sensations, and emotion and was a professor of art.  My creativity was channeled into making things work and accomplishing predictable results.  His creativity centered on making artistic works—paintings and sculpture—that awakened aesthetic and individualistic feelings in the viewer.  With those radically different styles of thinking and behaving, one would have given the probability of our pairing to be quite improbable.

In spite of those gulfs that might have kept us apart, a bond formed and matured into a consuming love for each other due in large part by our willingness to adapt to the other’s idiosyncrasies.  Each of us complemented the other’s strengths and compensated for the other’s weaknesses.  Each of us benefitted from a continuing effort to understand and appreciate the other’s perspective.  This was no more apparent than when Will introduced me to the art of meditation.

I came home from work early in our relationship frustrated over failing to solve a problem and irritated by my colleagues’ lack of cooperation.  Will, always sensitive to my moods, asked, “What’s bothering you?”  After venting my caustically negative feelings, Will said, “I’m sorry you’ve had a bad day.  But I think I know what will help.”

Only one thing came to my mind.  “Are you suggesting some hot sex with lots of foreplay, massive orgasms, and blissful cuddling?”

“No.  That will come later.  First, you have to expunge all those poisonous emotions.  Then the sex will be more enjoyable.”

“Oh, so you’re going to be a psychotherapist now?” I replied.

“No,” he said calmly, ignoring my sarcasm.  “I’m going to help you heal yourself with a period of meditation.”

“Oh, some of that touchy-feely stuff the Orientals use.  How’s that going to solve my problems at work?”

“It won’t solve your problems at work but it may help YOU solve them.  At a minimum, it will help you cope without the stress that can affect your physical and mental health.  Are you willing to give it a try?”

By this time, I had calmed down enough to recognize that Will was not only eager to help me but quite possibly able to do so.  “Okay,” I said contritely.  “What do I do?”

For an hour, Will gave me instruction and encouragement, which included the advice, “You must be patient.  It will take some time to develop the skill and discipline to meditate effectively.”  Several more daily sessions over the following weeks enabled me to, as he said, “be awake inside myself without being aware of anything except awareness itself.”  I found it extraordinarily difficult at first but, once achieved, it was amazingly satisfying.  Since that time, I’ve made meditation a vital part of my life.  It has allowed me to cope with the pressures at work (which was helpful) and has elevated my enjoyment of our sex to a much higher level (which was intensely gratifying).

Will also benefitted from our relationship.  He had no interest in or ability to deal with mechanical or electrical problems.  When his car wouldn’t start, he almost came unglued over the inconvenience and worry about paying for repairs.  But I was able to diagnose the problem and, more often than not, make the repairs with little effort and minimal cost for parts.  We bought a programmable microwave oven and he was incapacitated by his frustration over punching the right buttons in the right order.  I was able to walk him through the procedures using analogies that registered in his right-brained mind.  Thereafter, he was comfortable using it for simple tasks but deferred to me for more involved cooking procedures.

By recognizing each other’s strengths and weaknesses we were able to achieve a harmony in which, together, we were stronger and more fulfilled than two separate individuals.  I couldn’t have been happier.

The phone call was unexpected...

...and brought news that no one wants to hear.  It was from one of my two older sisters and the first time she had called me since learning that I was living with another man.  I don’t know whether she suspected that I was in a gay relationship.  I had not told anyone but my father whom I trusted to keep my secret.  But during my periodic visits home she expressed disapproval of my moving to California.  And she was clearly critical of my not having married and begun to raise a family as she and my other sister had done.  “It’s part of God’s plan,” she had often said, unaware that it was a totally ineffective way of persuading me.

Without any pleasantries at the beginning of the phone call, she said, “There’s been a terrible accident.  There was an explosion and fire at dad’s store.  Both he and mom were killed.”  The next thing I heard was her sobbing.

To fully understand my reaction to the terrible news, you must first understand my unqualified love for my parents in spite of my gradual but complete rejection of the religion that governed their every thought and that pervaded the isolated rural community in which I grew up.  I was devastated that I would not see them again.  I was in a state of shock.  But tears did not flow.  They would come later.  First, I felt I had to comfort my sobbing sister.  So I said something that I didn’t believe but that might ease my sister’s grief.  “They’re in Heaven now, Sis.  They’re at peace in the presence of God.  We’ll miss them but you can be sure that they’re at peace.”  Later, I would wonder if it was Will’s empathy to other’s feelings that influenced my attempt to calm and comfort my sister rather than allow my grief to plunge me into total despair.  After more efforts to calm my sister, she told me of the funeral arrangements.  “I’ll be there,” I said.  She abruptly hung up the phone and I immediately started to cry.

It was a Saturday morning.  Will was out running some errands.  How I wished he were home to hug me.  What I wanted most was the assurance that the focal point of my life was there when I needed him.  By the time he came home, my tears had stopped flowing.  Still, he immediately sensed my depression, set the grocery bags on the floor, and embraced me.  “What’s wrong, Luv?” he asked.  I couldn’t reply.  My tears started flowing again.  I was trembling and couldn’t speak.  He sat me on the sofa and sat next to me without breaking the embrace.  He gave me time to restore my composure.

When I was finally able to tell him what happened and that I would be leaving for a few days to attend the funeral, he asked, “Would you like me to come with you?”

“Yes and no,” I replied.  “I would appreciate your being with me.  It could give me the strength I might need through the ordeal.  But I’m afraid your being there would cause a lot of tongues to wag.  Don’t be offended but that’s not what my parents would want.  Or my sisters.  For them, it would turn into a scandal.”

“I understand,” Will said quite believably.

My emotions during the funeral and burial were consistently painful and depressing.  Even the eulogies that praised my parents’ lives, character, and accomplishments only reminded me of my failure to adequately express my appreciation for their providing a loving home and their sacrifices to enable me to attend college.  The two days were made even more unpleasant by my sisters’ uncontrolled weeping and moaning and by their frequent criticism of me for having chosen a future away from family and traditional (by which they meant religious) values.  Astonishingly, my insistence that proceeds from the insurance settlements be divided between my two sisters and not me was perceived as yet another rejection of the life they felt I should be living.  The struggle to retain my composure during the ordeal was debilitating.  Returning to California and into the arms of my lover couldn’t come soon enough.

Just over a year later, I reluctantly abandoned my attempts to maintain contact with my sisters.  My letters were ignored.  My phone calls were met with a chilly to frigid reaction and laced with unsubtle condemnation for “deserting” my heritage.  But my disappointment was outweighed by the tender, loving companionship of the man with whom I consistently found contentment and fulfillment.

The question was surprising...

...to say the least.  Will and I were blissfully cuddled together in bed after a particularly erotic period of sex.  I had just expressed my love for him when he said, “It’s always wonderful with you, my love ... because our love for each other magnifies the enjoyment.  But I’ve been thinking.  There could be more excitement and satisfaction.  For example, we could enjoy sex merely for physical gratification.  Would you be interested in trying something new?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well, suppose we invite someone else to join us for a threesome.  Consider the possibilities.  You could be sucked while sucking me.  Or you could be sucked and fucked at the same time.  Just imagine the sensations of that.”

“You can’t be serious!” I replied incredulously.

“I know.  It may seem weird.  But you’ve always been happy doing off-beat things that I suggest.  It’s opened you up to new experiences that your ultra-rational mind would never let you do.  Remember how hesitant you were about parasailing?  And how thrilled you were to have accomplished what you first thought was a hair-brained idea?  Think about it.  It wouldn’t change how much we love each other.  It’ll just be an adventure to be enjoyed for strictly physical stimulation.”

“We’ve always been honest with each other.  There’s no reason to stop now.  So I’ll just say I’m not comfortable with the idea.  And I don’t know how you would recruit someone to have sex with us.  In short, I don’t think your idea is feasible.”

“I’ve thought of that.  As it happens, there’s someone who I think would be willing.  He’s a former student of mine at the university.  He and I had several counseling session about his choice of classes and improving his native talent in art.  In one of those, he seemed distraught and I asked him what was bothering him.  With obvious difficulty, he told me.  It seems he is gay, horny, and a very frustrated virgin.  All I could do was to tell him it would get better ... that he would find a kindred soul ... just as I had.  He was surprised at learning that I was also gay but the fact seemed to add credibility to what I had said.  He left my office in a much better mood.  So here’s my suggestion.  Let’s invite him to dinner.  You’ll get to meet him.  Then, if you are agreeable, we suggest he join us in bed.  Making clear, by the way, that it would be a one-time experience but one that would, at least for the moment, satisfy all our needs.”

“I still don’t like the idea,” I said.

“If your final answer is ‘no’ then I’ll respect your wishes.  But if you want to do a huge favor for him ... and for me ... then I hope you will agree.”

That was a persuasive argument and I considered the countless things I had done as a favor to Will when I really didn’t want to.  He had done the same for me.  That’s one of the ways we kept the relationship between opposite personalities vibrant.  Because I was confident of his continuing love and wanted to grant him his wish, I said, “Okay.  But let’s agree between us and with him that it will be a one-time event.”

Will hugged me tighter and purred, “Thanks.  You’ve made me happy.  And the two of us will make a virgin extraordinarily happy.”

A week later...

...on a Friday evening, Will answered the knock on our door and ushered in Nathan, a young man with a cherubic face that made him look far younger than his age.  He had been told it was only for dinner and casual conversation so he thoughtfully brought a bottle of wine.  He was dressed in chino trousers and a polo shirt, both of which hung loosely over his slim frame.   Will introduced me as his partner, which made Nathan’s eyebrows raise but he smiled, shook my hand, and then gave a quick but noticeable scan of my body.

We all went into the living room for conversation and a glass of wine while dinner finished cooking.  Will and Nathan carried most of the weight of the conversation, which was to be expected, while I quietly assessed our guest.  I found him to be articulate, expressive, and had a spontaneity very much like Will.  After half an hour, I excused myself to finish final preparations of the meal.  While busying myself in the kitchen, the idea of a threesome grew more appealing.  After the meal, Will helped me clear the table.  In the kitchen he quietly asked, “How ‘bout it.  Shall we ask him to stay for some fun?”

I smiled and nodded my head.  Will smiled back and blew me a kiss.

After dessert and another glass of wine it was nearing ten o’clock.  Nathan said, “Thank you both for a lovely meal.  I’ve thoroughly enjoyed it.  But perhaps I should be leaving.  It’s a rather long drive back to my apartment.”

Will asked, “Wouldn’t it be better to drive home in the daylight?  You’re welcome to stay the night here with us.”

Nathan paused before saying, “That’s very kind of you.  But I can’t impose on your hospitality any more than I have.”

Will locked eyes with our guest and said, “It would be our PLEASURE to have you stay the night.”

Nathan looked perplexed, no doubt trying to interpret Will’s emphasis on ‘pleasure’.  For the first time since just after his arrival, Nathan looked to be just a bit nervous.

Will put his arm around my shoulders and clarified the invitation.  “You know that we are gay lovers.  And, of course, you’ve told me you’re gay.  So we’re all the same in that respect: we’re gay.  But we’re different in that you don’t have a lover and you’re horny and frustrated.  Let me lay it out plainly.  We’re inviting you to join us in a threesome.  Think of it as a gesture of friendship by giving you something you want but haven’t had—man to man sex.  It would be no more than a one time experience with us but one that I’m sure you would enjoy and would remember forever.  May we do you that favor?  Will you accept our offer?”

Nathan thought about it for several moments before saying, “This is a bit of a shock I never expected.”  He paused before continuing, “I admit I’m tempted.  But I’m not sure I want to intrude into your relationship.  Call me old-fashioned but fidelity means a lot to me.  What you’re proposing seems to border on infidelity.  To each other, I mean.”

“Not to worry,” I said.  Will and I love each other deeply.  Neither of us would jeopardize that relationship with any thoughtless philandering.  But BOTH of us agree that providing a night of pleasure to a needy and deserving person would bring you joy.  Look at it this way.  Will and I will be doing it not as individuals but as a couple.  It would be one more way to strengthen our bond to each other.  So ... can we entertain you in bed?”

Nathan was still reluctant but after a little more gentle persuasion, Will said, “Sex based on genuine love is unquestionably the best but there’s nothing wrong with a having sex just for the physical gratification.”

I added, “You may even learn some techniques that will help you when you find a man to love.”

Finally, he agreed and we led him to the bedroom.  Inside, he appeared to be quite nervous but calmed somewhat when I said, “This is your time, Nathan.  To do whatever you’ve always wanted to do.  And, by the way, you don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

He looked at me and smiled.  Hesitantly, he asked, “Can I start by undressing you?”

“Of course.”

He proceeded slowly, visually inspecting my chest and abdomen before gently running his hands up and down my upper body several times.  I could see the bulge in his chino pants grow.  When my trousers dropped to my ankles, he tentatively felt my cock and balls that were still hidden inside my boxers.  That didn’t last long.  He became impatient to see what was slowly growing between my legs.  It didn’t take very much fondling before I was fully erect and he continued his tactile exploration.  I interrupted his examination. “That feels good, Nathan.  But don’t ignore Will.  Would you like to undress him?”

He flashed me a shy smile and turned his attention to his former professor who patiently submitted to Nathan’s lengthy inspection and, I’m sure, with a great deal of pleasure.

Without asking what our guest wanted to do next, Will and I jointly disrobed him, offering from time to time admiring comments on his physique and on his impressive endowment that was now fully erect and oozing precum.

Once in bed with Nathan between us, Will and I by tacit agreement took the lead.  Will caressed his torso with particular attention to his nipples that soon protruded firmly while I ran my hands gently across the inside of his thighs and toyed with his balls.  Nathan’s precum oozed profusely and formed a pool on his abdomen.  Will touched my shoulder.  I looked up.  Will propped himself up on one elbow.  I knew what that meant.  It was a signal for a practice we frequently used in foreplay so I stopped teasing with Nathan’s balls.

“Why did you stop?” Nathan inquired with obvious surprise and disappointment.

“It’s a technique you can use with your future partner,” Will explained.  “Pause to let the stimulation and the urge for orgasm subside.  I know it can be frustrating but it will magnify the sensations when you finally climax.”

We brought him to the brink twice more but his insistent pleading for relief convinced Will that it would be cruel to prolong the young man’s distress any longer.  He nearly swallowed Nathan’s throbbing cock and within a few seconds, our guest bucked his hips and cried out with a primal scream.  Will gripped the pulsating cock tightly in his lips while what must have been repeated volleys of hot cum exploded down his throat.  It was several minutes before Nathan’s trembling stopped and his breathing returned to normal.  His cock, still captured by Will’s expert mouth, slowly deflated.

When Nathan recovered from the mind-blowing orgasm, he found Will and I cuddled on either side of him.  “Gawd!” he moaned.  “That was friggin awesome!”  Both Will and I were extraordinarily pleased to have given him the experience.  “How about you guys?” he asked.  “Can I suck you off?”

 “Sure,” I said.  “But you don’t have to swallow my cum if you don’t want to.  I’ll warn you when I’m about to cum.”  My response was a subtle clue to Nathan that he would be sucking me.  Part of Will’s enticement for me to agree to a threesome was a promise that I could be sucked and fucked at the same time.  While Nathan was busy on my cock, Will would attend to my ass.

“Don’t bother warning me,” Nathan grinned.  “I want it all.”

Nathan’s technique was far from expert caliber but was quite good for an amateur.  Will’s skill, however, was unusually magnificent.  Perhaps it only seemed so because of the dual, front and back stimulation.

We fell asleep entwined.  Nathan had a hand on the cocks of each of his benefactors while we jointly cradled his in our hands.

In the morning, Will asked Nathan, “Wanna do it again?”

The reply was immediate and enthusiastic, “YES!  Please.”  The only difference in the encore performance was that Will and I exchanged roles.  When Nathan left at midmorning, he expressed his appreciation and did not seem too disappointed when reminded that our mini-orgy would not be repeated ... but that he was welcome to visit us at any time.

Our lives resumed...

...and we were both happy loving and being loved in a committed relationship.  Until about two years later.  Will and I had just finished having sex and were lying in bed when he delivered a crushing blow.

Perhaps it was because of the pressures of our separate vocations.  I had been promoted to department manager and got caught up in a lot of overtime.  Will’s success as an artist meant he spent more time in the studio, often well past midnight, and travelling to across the country to galleries that curated a special exhibition of his work.  The time we could spend together had tapered off.

Perhaps it was a failure of both of us as we neglected a vital ingredient in any lasting relationship—concern for the other’s needs and well-being.

Or perhaps, as Will with his expansive, creative mind might have said, it was a manifestation of the cycle of life from birth to vigorous growth to death, which translates to: from falling in love to being part of a larger whole to the withering of love’s sustaining nourishment.

Whether because of those reasons or unknown others, our partnership ended when Will said, “It’s been great.  While it lasted.  But it’s over between us.  I think it’s time we move on.”

I was stunned.  And speechless.  But not completely surprised since our love-making lately seemed to have lost its magic and had devolved into physical gratification without the important emotional component.  After several moments of confusion and suspecting the worst, I asked, “You don’t love me anymore?”

 “I’m still fond of you but it’s no longer what it used to be.”

“But why?” I asked.  “Why can’t we regain what we both shared?  Can’t we repair whatever’s broken and continue loving each other?”

Will paused before saying, “The truth is I’ve fallen in love with another man.  You and I still have many years ahead of us.  Believe me when I say I hope you can also find someone else to love.”

Anger replaced my shock.  “And who is this other man?  How long have you known him?  And have you been fucking each other behind my back?”

“You’ll find out eventually, I suppose, so I’ll tell you.  It’s Nathan.”

The betrayal fueled my anger to incendiary proportions.  “You son of a bitch!” I shouted.  “Casting me aside like a used condom.  And for a horny stud half your age!”

I slept on the couch that night.  Over the next few days, Will often tried to engage me in conversation but I didn’t respond.  I’m not proud of it but my love for him had transformed into furious anger.  Less than a week later, I moved out.

My idyllic world was shattered.  From floating on clouds in a loving relationship I was plunged into a murky abyss of solitude.  But life goes on.  I had to play the cards I was dealt.  It took some time but I was able to focus on the lessons I learned and the hope that I might once again find someone to love.

***

That’s all, folks.

And finally, my thanks to Iatia who expertly edited this story and, more importantly, is a treasured friend.

Posted: 07/04/14