A Life Discovered

Chapter 8

By Bensiamin

email

On the drive to work the next morning, Bailey thought again about how nice it was to sleep and wake up with the person you were into. And how much more pleasant it was if it followed some exciting sex. He’d talked a big game, joking about the size of Eric’s cock head and knowing full well it wasn’t oversized. But when they got naked and on Eric’s bed his nervousness surfaced. He theoretically understood what gay guys did, but if he did them did that make him gay? Was that a problem? If so, where did it come from?

They’d made out for a few minutes, both growing very hard, and Eric moved to give him oral. It felt wonderful, like before, but he didn’t just want to lay there receiving Eric’s attention. Not after their last time together. Eric has simply asked if he wanted to try a sixty-nine. It sounded attractive, but when they turned on the bed and Eric’s cock was in front of his face with the implicit requirement to take it into his mouth, he found himself wondering if it was a bridge too far. Eric had gone back down on him, and the stimulation was astonishing, but he found himself dithering, then stroking Eric’s cock, and finally licking the head and then taking just the head in his mouth. He came in Eric’s mouth, just as Eric wanted, but when Eric came, he pulled off.

When they’d laid together afterward, he’d apologized and said he just wasn’t there yet. Eric made light of his concerns and told him he’d be ready when he was ready. Now he wasn’t so sure. He’d dreamed about Eric’s cock. He fantasized about it when he jacked off. He now knew a lot more about gay and bi men and men who had sex with men. It all happened in life and was normal. Why was he obviously hung up about the next sexual step with this guy he was so attracted to?

Eric had told him that he was falling in love with him. That hadn’t freaked him out. He took it for granted that he and Morgana had loved each other for a while, so it wasn’t a novel experience for him. What was novel, and apparently a hang up of some sort, was gay sex.

He wasn’t going to answer the questions this morning, he acknowledged, as he pulled into the SPCA employee parking area and went inside. Leslie was working and explained all the animals had already been fed and gave him his work schedule for the day. She then explained the subtleties of cleaning the cat cages and dog kennels while the animals were present. When he was done with that work, there were two small inside enclosures for playing with the cats, and two larger outside enclosures for exercising and playing with the dogs. Leslie showed him which animals were his responsibility, and he set about exercising them. He was surprised to learn that they came in all ages and breeds. When that was complete, it was mid-day feeding time. They both stopped for lunch, and Bailey was thankful that Eric had thought ahead and made a sandwich for him and sent him off with a bottle of juice. He asked Leslie about the mix of breeds and types, and she smiled knowingly. “Animals end up here for all kinds of reasons, good and bad. Sometimes it’s abuse and the law has removed the animal. Sometimes people have good intentions but get in over their heads and can’t handle it. Sometimes people get sick or die and the survivors don’t want the animal. Sometimes animals are strays that are found, or problem animals, usually dogs, that families find they can’t handle. Like that Rottweiler mix in kennel number 6.”

“I was noticing him when you exercised him. He doesn’t’ seem aggressive.”

“Maybe not in here when an adult is handling him. But it turns out he’s completely different when he’s out and about with other dogs. Then he feels the need to be the top of the pecking order. It’ll take a strong-willed adult who knows how to handle dogs to take him.”

After lunch a second exercise cycle began, followed by a final cage and kennel cleaning. Leslie had explained that quite a few animals had been placed during the week, so there were only a couple of animals having to double up. That included two terriers in a small kennel that seemed to get along well, and two cats that seemed to be tolerating each other. “Not to worry, though. The first part of the week is busy, and unless we have as many placements as last week, by next weekend we’ll be back to more animals than we have space for. We need that new addition.”

Bailey told her that he’d gotten to know the architect handling the project since he was working on a new manufacturing wing where he worked. She perked up at that. “He’s at attractive guy. I imagine a lot of the office staff at your place are oohing and aahing over him.” She chuckled at the idea.

Bailey was about to say that Eric was gay, but how would he know that about an architect? Would it mean he was giving away too much info? Would it look like he knew too much? Quickly he decided to keep his comments neutral, and just said, “I guess Eric is what you’d call attractive. He certainly has unusual hair. Anyway, he told me he’s handling this project too, and he cares about it. I found out you needed volunteers because he told me. I think he’ll do all he can, not just to have a good building, but to make it really workable.”

They went through the evening feeding cycle, and both checked out as the one overnight volunteer came on shift. Bailey drove home feeling a little weary, but cheerful that he was doing a good thing and helping animals in need.

He called Eric after he’d showered and eaten, to learn that Eric had spent some more time on the cabinet and built the tracks for the tambour doors and gotten the doors themselves cut to length. “Next is the shelving, then put the finish on and do the final assembly.”

They talked about Bailey’s day at the shelter, and how many cute animals there were. “You don’t know how important the building you’re working on is,” Bailey said. “It’s not as simple as not enough space and some animals having to double up. Quite a few of them come from abusive situations and they don’t do well with other animals. So, you can’t just throw any two cats or two dogs in together. The staff are already looking forward to what you’re designing.”

“That’s cool, but they do know that even if we start construction this summer, the building won’t be ready to occupy till next year, don’t they?”

“Probably, but the point is that they’ve got a goal to look forward to. More space and that means happier animals as well as more capacity. That means happier staff.”

“Duly noted. Now, I have a question for you. You know Labor Day weekend is in two weeks? Mom and Dad have a cabin in the Adirondacks, and we always try to be up there for Labor Day. They asked me to ask you if you’d like to come along, be their guest?”

“Wow! Really? That’s great of them.” He paused and thought. “I haven’t thought about it yet, but since I just started at the shelter, I don’t know how I can already ask to skip my third Sunday. I’d look like a flake.” He felt a little deflated.

“I hadn’t thought that through either,” Eric replied. “Maybe I’ll skip it and we can do something.”

“No, Eric. You said this is a regular family thing. You should go and be there. Pretty sure it’ll be important to them.”

“Yeah, it is. But then I won’t see you the entire long weekend.”

“Well, that’s true, but you could drive down on the Thursday before and stay with me. We’re still having our meeting at work Friday morning and then you’ve got your shelter meeting, right?”

Eric agreed. “So, you’ll be here anyway on Friday and then drive back to Syracuse after you meet at the shelter. Or you could stay Friday night too. At least come down Thursday and stay with me.”

“Okay, I guess that’s a consolation prize, but only if you do something for me. I’ll come stay with you on Thursday, but you come stay with me on Friday. Fair?”

Bailey smiled to himself. “Yeah, fair enough. Are you telling me you like me around?”

“You know the answer to that question. I’m thinking you’re beginning to feel the same way.”

Bailey’s week went by quickly. Once the staff meetings at the beginning of the week were behind him, and he’d met with Everett to further define the dashboard, he met with the IT Director to show him a conceptual layout of what they were looking for. He got a positive reception and confirmation that they needed a program interface, and that person would have to be hired. He said he’d try to have a candidate or two in for a meeting no later than the first part of the coming week. “We use an IT consulting firm in Syracuse, and they’ll have the necessary resources. The only challenge will be how soon the person is available.”

Both of them spoke by phone or texted each evening, catching up on each other’s day. Bailey continued to find himself thinking of Eric when he went to bed, with the expected consequences.

By Thursday Bailey had finalized two layouts that Everett seemed happy with and was prepared for a meeting with the programmer when he could be brought in. He arranged to leave a little early and did some shopping, so he had the makings for a good dinner when Eric arrived. He had salad mixed and had the prepared chicken Parmesan from the deli at the supermarket in the oven. He was mashing potatoes for garlic mashed when Eric texted that he was out front.

He texted back “The doors open” and washed the garlic off his hands and was walking to the front door while drying his hands when Eric walked in. He had to smile when Eric said, “Hi, gorgeous,” dropped his bag and pushed him up against the wall for a kiss. A thought flashed through his mind that this was just like in the movies! The thought vaporized as Eric’s tongue found the back of his mouth and his hands pulled Bailey’s shirt out of his jeans and quickly worked their way up his back.

“I’m glad to see you too,” Bailey whispered between kisses. “Needy, are we?”

“Fuck yes! I’ve been wanting you all week. We live too far apart.” He moved in for another kiss and added, “Too much talking.”

Bailey didn’t argue, though after a minute he thought about the pan of potatoes on the oven. “Come with me. To the kitchen,” he panted out as he broke off and pulled Eric behind him. He pushed the pan with potatoes to the back of the stove and said, “Wine’s in the refrigerator.” He added a little more butter and half and half, then turned and said, “Now, that will keep for a while.” He took the glass Eric handed him and said softly, “Here’s to you, my man!”

Eric grinned and took a long sip and then slyly said, “Am I your man now?”

“Last time I checked, you’re the only man I’m seeing.”

“You know what I mean. No pressure, though.”

“I know. I don’t feel any pressure, and that’s one of the great things about being with you. Love and affection and no pressure.”

Eric smiled softly and said, “The garlic smells good. What’s on the menu?”

Bailey explained the menu and that some dishes he’d bought prepared, but Eric made light of it and asked how he could help. They finished the salad and tossed it with dressing, pulled the chicken out of the oven and shortly were dining together for the first time in Bailey’s apartment.

“It’d be nice to have a dining room like your place,” Bailey said.

“Stop comparing. The food is good, and the company is great. What else matters?”

After they’d washed the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen, they settled on the couch and talked while Bailey played music to a little speaker from his phone. “I need to get a stereo of some kind, so we can have music that sounds good like at your place.”

“I can help with that. You don’t need to spend a lot of money, not these days.” Eric pulled him down into his arms and whispered, “That play list is just fine for our purposes. “Before long they were shirtless, and both had their pants open and were playing with the other.

“Eric, I’ve got to say something. I don’t know what happened last weekend. I thought about it all the drive down here Sunday morning, and during the week. It was amazing how it felt when you took my cock, but when it was my turn, when yours was in front of me, I couldn’t…I don’t know…I choked.”

Eric looked at him with an amused expression. “You choked on my cock without even taking it in your mouth, is that what you’re saying?”

“What? No. I mean…is that what I said? I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. I’m trying to be serious here. I wanted to, I really wanted to…at least in my head, but when your cock was in front of my face, I couldn’t do what I wanted to.” Bailey looked down toward the floor.

“And what was it you wanted to do?”

“I wanted to do what you were doing to me.”

“I’m going to make you say it. I was sucking your cock, and you wanted to do what?”

“I wanted to suck your cock too. I wanted to make you feel as good as you were making me feel, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. I mean I licked it and eventually got the head in my mouth, but that’s all I could do.”

Eric turned his face toward him. “We both know you’re working through some stuff. Sucking a cock is pretty gay. You’re just not there yet. Why don’t you quit worrying about that part and let’s focus on what works and what’s good for both of us.”

“Really? How can you say that?”

“It’s not that hard. Like I said before, there’s lots of things we can do that feel good and express how we feel. Let me say something to be clear. I’m not hung up on needing you to suck my cock or give me your ass to fuck, okay? I know two months ago you thought you were straight and that’s all there was to it. Stuff like this takes time. I’m in no rush and I’m not pressuring you. You’ve got to stop pressuring yourself, okay?”

Eric held Bailey’s gaze until he nodded and smiled, and then he added, “I seem to remember that frottage was pretty hot. Do you have any oil?”

***

They were both up early and had granola and coffee together. As Bailey was rinsing the dishes he looked at Eric and said, “Is this what every morning would be like if we lived together?”

Eric grinned at him. “Every morning like this and every evening like last night. Pretty good formula, right?”

Friday’s meeting went smoothly, and the walk-through of the new wing showed great progress on the interior finish. Reed, the project manager was especially animated and happy with the subcontractors, commenting that they’d likely be able to start moving equipment in ahead of schedule.

Eric left for the shelter after lunch and told Bailey he’d see him when he got to the apartment in Syracuse. Eric had dinner under control, and they both worked together to prepare it, then went to see Maestro, the film about Leonard Bernstein. It was Eric’s suggestion, and Bailey didn’t know much about Bernstein, but he did recognize some of the music. They held hands in the theater and Bailey was astounded to discover that while married with children, Bernstein had a long-running, gay affair. When they were walking back to Eric’s apartment, Bailey said, “Thanks for choosing that movie instead of Godzilla. I think it helped me sort some stuff out.”

“Good to hear. I read a couple of reviews about the film,” Eric replied, “and one had quotes from some of the family members. Bernstein’s daughter described her dad as both straight and gay. That says something. I hope it helps you think though stuff.”

“It will, but being straight and gay like that means two relationships. I don’t want two relationships. I want one. I want ours.”

“So do I, Bailey, so do I.”

The next morning, they drove to Eric’s parent’s house. Eric wanted to finish the final cabinet assembly and get the first coat of varnish on so he could put on the second coat the next day. With Labor Day weekend coming up and being out of town, there would be no work done.

Meredith was grocery shopping, and after Elliott brewed a pot of coffee, Eric took his cup and headed for the shop. Elliott and Bailey sat down at the kitchen table and talked about the events of the last week. Bailey told him about the film they’d seen and that it helped him see some things more clearly, things he was trying to sort out about whether he was gay or not.

“You do understand that you don’t have to be gay to be in a relationship with a man, do you not? Even though it may make it easier.”

Bailey acknowledged that he was understanding that and shared how Eric had encouraged him to stop worrying about labels and accept he was a sexual creature. “Still, while it makes sense, it’s still hard.“

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I’ve always thought of myself as straight and that meant a whole bunch of things. Now I’ve got to think about it all differently and wonder what that says about me.”

“If I may be so bold, isn’t that another way of asking whether all the operating assumptions you’ve carried through your life about yourself are valid?”

“Well, yeah. I guess that’s what it means. What are you getting at?”

“As people,” Elliott replied, “especially as adults, we all assume or want to believe that what we are is what we choose to be. Much like we all assume that what we believe is what we choose to believe. The fact is, though, that’s not the case. The majority of what we are and what we believe are what we received from our immediate and extended family. It’s the thousands of attitudes and beliefs and behaviors that we learn as we grow up.”

Elliott paused, and then went on, “Children feel tremendous pressure to conform to their family’s values and ideals, even when these guidelines have not been explicitly stated. That dynamic forms the basis of our self-esteem, and it gets internalized as our conscience. That’s the standard that we measure all our behavior against. If we’re fortunate, those things we are taught and absorb as we grow up are proper and healthy. For many people they are not. Many people are taught and absorb a great deal of improper and unhealthy beliefs and behaviors and have to unlearn them later in life.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“Bailey, I’m a psychologist. It’s what keeps me in business.” They both laughed, then Elliott said, “Do you remember the two things I asked you to think about after we last spoke?”

“Yeah, I do, and I tried. I didn’t get very far. Other than the obvious. I got so shaken up after the run in with my birth father because I was so angry, and I came back to Auburn because I needed to tie up loose ends.”

“Do you see a connection between the second one and the first?”

“Meaning how the loose ends thing connects to the run in?”

“Yes, that’s one way of saying it. The human subconscious is an astonishing part of our mind. We often have to work very hard to understand what is going on in there. I’d be so bold as to say that you didn’t just come back to Auburn to tie up some casual loose ends, but because you subconsciously realized you had some significant things to resolve before you could move on with your life.”

“That sounds more involved than anything I ever thought about.”

“Sometimes it works that way,” Elliott said. He paused and when Bailey said nothing, went on, “Do you remember when I asked you about being a victim and what that meant?”

“Yeah, I looked it up and realized I’d never thought about it that way.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning it happens TO a victim, they didn’t ask for it. So, they’re not at fault.”

“But you understand what most abusers try to do to their victims, don’t you?”

“I think so.”

“They work hard to make the victims feel like they’re at fault. Like they’re responsible. That’s so they can avoid their own guilt, and it’s also a way to control the victim.”

Bailey was quiet.

“Can you see that’s what your birth father was trying to do? Besides venting his own anger, he was continuing to try and put the guilt on you. Making you feel that you were the one with the problems, not him. And if he could do that, then he could control you.”

“I don’t get the control part. I haven’t seen him since. I went back to college in Binghamton. I’ve never talked to him again. How’s that control.”

“Have you looked at how your life changed after that encounter? You told me things started changing with your girlfriend, that you started withdrawing, and I’d guess your libido slumped. You said that you were tired all the time with low energy. That it was a slog to get through school. That wasn’t the way it was the year before, was it?”

“No, but how’s that control?”

“Control doesn’t have to be like holding the remote for a radio-controlled toy. It can also be extending influence into someone else’s life so that instead of living the life they want, the life they deserve, they end up living the life of misery the abuser wants them to.”

“You think he did that to me?”

“I think it’s very possible. Likely very probable. I think it was a trigger event, and all the things we’ve talked about happened as a result of that, and you haven’t been able to work through them. Yet.”

He paused and let Bailey think, then added, “With what you know now about society and culture and the law, what would you think if you read in the newspaper tomorrow about a twelve-year-old boy whose parents locked him in the basement, constrained him with duct tape, took away most of his clothes, made him hold his urine and bowel movements and also withheld food. All as some kind of punishment.”

“I’d probably feel sick. Sick and angry.”

“And you’d probably feel very sorry for the child, wouldn’t you?”

Bailey nodded.

Eric’s dad softly said, “Bailey, will you look at me.” Bailey looked up and he went on. “You can feel sorrow for that hypothetical child now. But you were that child, you were that victim. Have you ever felt sorrow for yourself? Have you ever grieved about what happened to you?”

“No, I don’t think so. I didn’t want to think about it. I wanted to get away from it all.”

“Well, that’s understandable. However, resolving painful emotions is necessary. You were not only the victim who underwent those things when you were twelve, you also lost your birth parents as a result. That’s a significant and painful loss for a child to go through. Then after things got back on track in your life and you were adopted by the man who loved you and became your dad, you lost him just five years later. I’m sure you grieved his loss, but I doubt you’ve really worked through the earlier losses, and most recently the impact that having your birth father reappear had on your life.”

“You think it had an impact? I mean some kind of major thing?”

“As I said, I think it was a trigger, that you’d managed to be high functioning and getting along with your life until that run in, and that trigger knocked you sideways. I think you’ve been struggling with a mild form of depression ever since then.”

“Depression? Me?”

“I think it’s likely. Don’t panic. Depression comes in many degrees, and I’m talking about what’s called Persistent Depressive Disorder or PDD. It’s the low end of the depressive scale, and usually includes mood disturbance such as sad or empty moods. It’s usually diagnosed when patients confirm that they feel down for most of the day and for more days than not. The result is what we think of as significant distress or impairment, not meaning physical impairment, but rather life is reduced or constrained compared to how it used to be. Does of any of this sound like what you were going through?”

“Well, maybe, but how could I be depressed? I mean, I’m twenty-one. I just graduated from college. Isn’t depression something that happens to older people?”

“Most often, yes, to middle aged or older people. But not always. There are plenty of youth and young adults with mild to moderate depression. Let me frame it another way, being more specific about the symptoms. They include sleeping too much nearly every day. Fatigue or very low energy nearly every day. Diminished ability to concentrate or trouble making decisions. Low self-esteem and feeling of hopelessness.”

Bailey was quiet, and Elliott added, “When I list them like that, do you recognize any of those symptoms during the last year?”

It took Bailey a moment, but then he looked at Elliott and said, “The first three for sure. I guess my self-esteem took a hit, but I was never feeling hopeless. I always knew I had options.”

“That’s very good to hear, because it’s the low self-esteem and hopelessness that correlate most directly to thoughts of suicide. The most important thing to understand is that we’re talking about mild depression, and it’s very treatable, and from what you’ve been telling me, just your change of circumstance in the past three months has begun to resolve some of the symptoms.”

“You mean feeling like I’m coming back to life?”

“That’s precisely what I mean. This form of depression rarely requires medication, and usually can be addressed and treated with therapy. I’d say the good news is that you’re already seeing resolution based on the changes you made in your life.”

“So, I don’t need to be treated?”

“I wouldn’t be being honest with you if I didn’t say that all patients are at risk of slipping back into depression if the relationships and circumstances that brought it on return. However, you’ve moved on from most of that, so I think you’ll be fine. I’ll always be around to talk if you need to, you can be assured of that, or can refer you if you feel the need.”

“Thank you, Elliott. I liked you the first time I heard about you, and like you even more now.”

“You should go see how Eric is coming on the cabinet. He’ll be worrying that I’m doing deep psychoanalysis on you pretty soon!”

***

On the drive back to Eric’s apartment Bailey was unusually quiet and Eric gave him his space. They’d planned on going for a run, and once they changed, they drove to a running trail on the Syracuse University campus. They ran five miles, Eric occasionally slowing down to accommodate Bailey who was still getting back in shape and extending his runs at pace. They had a good time and got a good workout.

They were cooling down at a picnic table near the parking area when Bailey said, “Your dad told me he thinks I’m depressed.”

“Really? Is that why you guys were talking so long?”

“Yeah. Actually, he said he thinks I had a mild form of depression, PPD or something, and that I’m already working out of it.”

“That’s good news.”

“I think it’s because things have changed for the better in my life in the last three or four months. He thinks what set it off was the run in I had with my birth father last summer. That it was a trigger.”

“You told me it happened, but I didn’t know it was so bad.”

“It was horrible. He was horrible. Calling me a loser, saying I was responsible for him losing his job and him and my mother losing all their kids.”

“But you know you weren’t at fault. He, or actually they, were abusing you. They were physically abusing you.”

“I know. When I told your dad what they did, the duct tape and no food and no clothes and no bathroom, we talked about how I was the victim, and that the bad stuff happens to a victim. It’s not their fault.”

“All true. What’s bothering you?”

“If I’m depressed, doesn’t that mean I’m a fuck up? Like a failure or something?”

Eric put his arm around Bailey’s shoulder and pulled him close. “Not at all. From what I know lots of people with depression and other psychological problems have a chemical imbalance. That’s no more their fault than me being gay. That’s why a lot of them can be treated with drugs—it fixes the imbalance. Then there’s problems caused by war or trauma. There’s no guilt involved. And for sure you’re not a failure.”

Bailey gave him a wan smile.

“You don’t believe me, do you? Dad’s a straight shooter, he would have told you if it was anything serious. You can count on that. What did he tell you that you needed to do?”

“He mainly said the changes that have happened in my life have started changing it for the better.”

“Does that include me?”

“It better. I told you I feel like I’ve been coming back to life since I met you. Your dad also said that loss of libido is part of depression. Seems like I got my libido back since I met you too.”

“Well, yay! That’s a double win then. Come on. Let’s head back to the apartment and get cleaned up. I’m taking you out to dinner tonight and then we’ll see about that libido!”

They had dinner in a nice French restaurant that was close enough to Eric’s apartment that they could walk. Bailey seemed preoccupied, and finally Eric said, “You know, you can talk to me about anything that’s going through your mind or is troubling you. Like my dad, I don’t judge people because they’re going through stuff in their lives. I try to help.”

“I know, and I really appreciate that. It’s just sorting through all this new stuff. I can see more and more how the run in knocked me sideways and how things changed after that. Your dad said it was my birth father’s way of guilting me and controlling me. I hate the fucker even more now than I did before.”

“That’s understandable, but hate’s a pretty strong emotion. I don’t think you want it to be part of your life. Maybe the better approach is pity.”

“Probably. But I guess I’ve got to get through the anger first. I’m working on that. Anyway, let’s change the subject. We don’t need to ruin the evening with my problems.”

Eric wanted to say, ‘your problems are my problems,’ as an offer of support, but thought better of it. When they finished dinner, he said, “Let’s go back to the apartment. I want to play you some music. Some relaxing music to take your mind off all this stuff.”

“Is it relaxing and romantic?”

“That is exactly the plan.”

They settled on the couch with a bottle of wine and Eric set the mood with Dooley Wilson’s version of As Time Goes By. Bailey said, “I’ve heard this before somewhere.” Eric explained that it was popularized in the movie Casablanca, and was the soundtrack to a British TV series and that it was such a great song it had been covered by hundreds of singers. He added, “I’ve always loved the mood that the first verse sets.’

You must remember this A kiss is just a kiss A sigh is just a sigh The fundamental things apply As time goes by

Softly, Eric asked, “Don’t you think that’s romantic?”

He pulled Bailey close, stroking the side of his face that was resting on his shoulder and added, “Just remember that the fundamental things apply. Like kisses, and sighs and love.”

“That’s nice to hear. I’m sorry if I pulled you down tonight.”

“Don’t be. I know you’re working through stuff, and we’re in it together.”

They continued to snuggle and talk, and then Eric put on the first record in Frank Sinatra’s Great American Songbook recording. Bailey settled back against Eric, and after a couple of minutes turned them over so he was laying on him, their faces inches apart. “You were saying something about kisses and sighs?”

Eric grinned and kissed him. Soon their shirts were off, and Eric had changed position so he could grind on Bailey while playing with his nipples.

“Why did I never know that could be so sexy?”

“Because you never dated a boy, silly. It’s another thing chicks don’t get.” He slid down and took one, then the other in his mouth, first nuzzling it with his lips and tongue and then nibbling softly with his teeth.

“They don’t seem to think much about pleasuring their partner, do they? At least,” he said softly, “Morgana didn’t.”

“Somehow most of them seem to think if the guy gets off, that’s enough. At least, so I’m told. I don’t have any direct experience in that department.” He slid down, kissing his way to Bailey’s belt and zipper, which he proceeded to undo. Then he pulled Bailey’s shoes off, followed by his pants, and turned him to a sitting position, while he dropped to his knees. Resuming kissing his belly he said seductively, “I do have plenty of experience in this department, though.”

Next Chapter Previous Chapter