- 1995-

"Take your clothes off and put them on the chair."

I do is as he asks and strip down to nothing and neatly fold my clothes on the chair.

"Mmmmm, just like Harold said. You do have a nice body. You must spend a lot of time at the gym to get such a great physique."

I stand there while the man admires my naked form. I'm used to this since most of Harold's clients don't get the chance to see guys like me naked in the flesh on a regular basis. Well, unless of course they are one of Harold's more regular clients. Then they get to see me and my fellow 'co-workers' as often as they care to pay for it.

"Are you going to do whatever I ask? You're not going to disappoint me are you?" he leers while sitting behind his desk. I can hear the zipper on his trousers and realize that he's fishing his cock out. "I hope Harold made it very clear what you're expected to do."

Not moving or looking directly at him I just nod to let him know that I understand.

"Good. So tell me. How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-five," I reply looking directly above his head and not at his face. I can't really tell what he looks like since his office was barely lit by the streetlights filtering in through his office window.

"Look at me when I talk to you, boy," he says as he flips on the desk lamp.

I relent and look right at him and see that he's a man of about 50 with gray hair and a thick mustache over his upper lip. The mustache and crinkles on his face throw long evil shadows across his eyes and forehead. He's typical of the men I have to service for Harold: arrogant sons of bitches with too much money.

"That's better. So how is it that you don't have a boyfriend? With a body like yours I'm sure you'd have no problems finding one. Or wait a minute. Do you have one and he doesn't know what you do?" he smiles while interlacing his hands across his chest.

"No, I don't have a boyfriend," I respond with no feeling.

"Don't look away from me, boy. You look me at me when I talk to you," he said getting a little angry when I looked away for an instant. "What? You a straight boy or something?"

"No, I'm not straight"

"Mmmmm a pretty hot faggot boy I've got on my hands. And one with no boyfriend. So much the better for me." He pushes his chair back from desk and I see that his cock is rock hard and uncut. "Come here, faggot, and kneel in front of me. You're gonna lick this cock of mine for a while."

I walk over to him and kneel on the linoleum floor. Then he unceremoniously grabs my hair forces my mouth on his cock. Instantly I can tell he's not clean under his foreskin. The stench and taste makes that obvious.

"Mmmmm...look at me with this big beefy faggot boy sucking my dirty ole cock. That's it lick under the hood and get that cheese out for me. Ugh, yeah!" he grumbles under his breath. "Faggot boy's not even putting up a fight. Just the way I like it."

It's pretty gross the way his cock is unclean. I may be strong enough to take on this man if he got out of hand, but that's not gonna me paid. Besides, I gave up fighting a long time ago. I've been used to this for so long. I just tune the whole scene out and do what I always do when taking care of business. I think of looking into someone else eyes. Someone who used to make me feel safe back when I was nowhere as attractive and built as I am now. At times like this when I'm forced to do things for money I think about Cal and ask myself, "Where are you now?"

- 1987 -

I had just dropped my girlfriend, Anna, after a church dance. Our friends and I had gone to the St. Augustine church youth dance and had had a really good time. I got to dance with my friends and Anna as well, but there was something wrong. I wasn't feeling it anymore. I would hold Anna and that connection, that current of electricity that tells you that you have connected with someone special was gone. Actually it had been gone for quite a long while - almost 3 months. Of course I thought that that was normal for people in relationships and seeing as this was my first relationship with another person, I thought I was just learning through experience that emotional feelings for someone else naturally ebbed and intensified on their own. That explanation worked for a while, but after some time I knew there was something more serious at play here.

Let me tell you about Anna, she is a beautiful 17-year-old girl with long silky black hair, deep brown eyes, and with an exotic olive complexion. She is one of the prettiest girls in my high school. It's a wonder why she even was with me in the first place. Before going out with me she had been dating a college guy who was a lifeguard. I had known her since junior high but didn't really get to know her until freshman year in high school. Since that time we became the best of friends and we shared everything with each other and supported each other no matter what. So I guess it was a natural conclusion for our friendship to develop into something romantic.

But, like I said, most people would have wondered what such a gorgeous girl was doing with a guy like me. I am 5'7" tall with unruly, coarse black hair, a very skinny frame, and a pimply complexion. I'm also not the most popular guy in school. I'd get picked on tons by even the freshman football players on the junior varsity team. Anna didn't seem to mind and for a while her love and support did wonders for me. Don't get me wrong. I'm not someone weak. I know when to keep quiet and when I'm in over my head. But, I have a strong personality tempered from the abuse I had to deal with.

Anyway, so here I am in my car driving home after dropping her off at her place and I'm struggling to find that spark of electricity that lets me know I'm still connected to her. And I just can't find it. Somewhere along the way it burned out. No, I think it was put it out by someone else and replaced with something not just a spark, but a roaring fire of desire for someone else.

As I'm driving along I'm fighting to put out that fire. I know what I am feeling is wrong. I know if I give in and give up fighting that it will consume me forever. There'll be no turning back. But, I have been fighting this for so long and I'm tired. My love for Anna helped for a while, but it is no match for the love I have for him - Calvin, my best friend.

Cal, as his close friends call him, has been my best friend since sophomore year. That was one of the toughest years in my life. I had become an outcast of the Gifted and talented students by snitching on one of my other classmates, Claudia, for cheating on a test. The problem was that when I went to snitch on Claudia, who also happened to be the most popular girl in our entire high school class, one of her toadies happened to overhear. By the end of the day my prospects for a peaceful and fun year were gone. I'd endured so much ridicule, taunts, and pranks that I had become a very guarded individual since. There was one time when the class started to chant "nerd" at me while the teacher was at the office. Everyone chimed in except Cal. Anna wasn't there since she was not a part of the G/T program. The G/T students took every class together which made an extra special hell for me the rest of high school.

My reputation never recovered but it did help forge a strong bond to Cal. Anytime that I am the victim of some other prank or joke all I have to do is look at him and I tune everything out. I look at his eyes and there I find something like a warm blanket that falls around my heart to shield me from everyone else. When we're not at school we do everything together. He taught me how to swim since he has a really neat enclosed swimming pool in his back yard. Now, we've even gone out on double dates with our girlfriends to the movies or to the lake.

Let me tell you a little about Cal and what he looks like. He's way taller than me at 5'11" has light brown hair that he wears a little long, and is a bit more built than I am. He wasn't popular like Claudia was back in the sophomore year, but since and on into our senior year his stock has risen. He now goes to the cool parties on weekends and gets asked to sit with the in crowd during lunch. And even though I'm persona-non-grata he still makes the time to be with me.

Lately we've been spending more and more time with each other alone at his house. In his room we sit and talk and talk for hours about what are plans for college are, what we want to do during the summer between high school and freshman year of college, and just but anything else. He never tires of being with me. One particular time while studying for a pre-calculus test I had fallen asleep on the floor while propped up against his bed. When I woke up he was asleep next to me and I found that he's removed my book, shoes, and glasses and laid me out on the floor with a pillow and sheet. If I have to go back and pick a time when my desire and passion for him began to burn it was that time when I woke up next to him.

So here I am driving home and as much as I care for Anna I care even more for Cal. I'm crying because I know I'm about to give in. It's been too much. And as I turn down the street to my house, I finally break down and say, "I love him." I'd never said it before, not even to myself. The funny thing is that now that I've admitted it, it's not as bad as I thought it was going to be. I'm still alive and strangely a bit calmer. I think it's from the fact that I've traded in one set of problems and worries in for another. The other set of problems hasn't had time to settle in yet and torture me. Instead of fighting my feelings for him, I'll be dealing with these feelings head on and the implications they have for me, for him and for Anna.

I get home around 11:30pm and go to my room and call Cal to tell him I'm home. He'd asked me to call him when I got in and let him know how it went. He knows that I'm not that great at social situations and was interested to hear how I made out tonight. "Hey, I made it back," I said.

"Cool, how was the dance?" he says with a slightly sleep and husky voice of being just woken up.

"Um, it was fine,' I say not really knowing what to say. I grasp the phone a little tighter and I start to sweat.

"Just fine? Did you at least have a good time?" he responds sensing something's wrong.

"Uh, yeah, I did. Anna and I danced some and we managed to get the DJ to play some of our favorite songs," I said a bit quickly.

Cal stays quiet for a second and I just know he's reading my mind. I should tell you that among other things I'm a bit paranoid. "Carlos, are you sure you're alright? You seem like your not yourself."

I pause and say, "Look, I'm just tired from the dance and having to drive the rest of the gang all over the place." I then add with some anger, " I guess I should be glad I have some friends who I can drive around and do stuff with. It's not like I have many other friends clamoring at my door for attention. Claudia and company took care of that two years ago."

He sighs because he knows how much I've had to deal with because of that clique. "Carlos, you're gonna have to let it go someday. You can't run around with this resentment forever. It's going to eat you alive."

"How am I supposed to get over it?!" I scream back into the phone. "Everyday, it's the same old shit, 'Oh, look, there's that nerd snitch. Did you hear that the reason he's so thin is that he's got worms? Oh, really? Yeah, just like a dog.'" I repeat what I had just had to listen to today. "You've got it made. Hell, you're one of them now!"

"Carlos, I'm not one of them. What's going on with you tonight? I was hoping you'd have a good time. Why are you focusing on those other jerks? Don't let them bring you down."

I sat on the floor of my room with the phone in my hand and wondered why I was even thinking about them. "I don't know. Look, I'm just really tired and worn out. I know that most of the time I can keep Claudia and the rest of the G/T class from getting to me, but sometimes it's too much."

"Ok, I understand, but why let them ruin your night with Anna and your real friends?" he says.

Hearing him say that makes me stop and think about how he's now hanging with them and still talking with me. Maybe, he's really switched sides and as spying on me for them and waiting for the perfect bit of personal information to ruin me. (I told you I am paranoid.)

"Are you a real friend?" I ask still on the floor of my room. I realize here's a chance to find out how he really feels about me. We've never talked about our friendship and what it means to us.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"You say that Anna and my other friends are my real friends. Are you saying that you're aren't my friend? Or are you starting to think like the rest of the G/T class?" I say.

"Of course I'm your friend! Jeez, where'd you get the idea that I'm not?" he replies somewhat exasperated.

"It's just the way you said it. I also wonder how you can keep being friends with me and still hang out with them. You know how they hate me."

"I don't let them choose who I talk with and whom my friends are. I can decide for myself," he says.

I'm a little relieved but I decide to push further. "But why do you hang out with me? What do I have to offer that you can't get from them?"

"I'm not going to let you go just because they are too petty to and immature. You're someone I care about. I'm not going to let them bully me into letting you go. They know not to push it when it comes to you. They've accepted that."

Shit, did he just say that he cared? I feel like have been kicked in the stomach by just hearing him say that. "You... you...c...care about me?" I whisper into the phone.

"Yes, I do. And not all of them hate you. It's only Claudia and a few others who just don't know when to quit. That whole incident with the test was over 2 years ago."

I was still stuck on the fact that he said he cared about me. Considering what I had just gone through on my drive home and then now hearing this I was left stupefied. Could it be that there's a chance he might love me as much as I love him and that he's been fighting it as much as I have?

"You ... you care?" I stammer again not really believing what I was hearing.

"Carlos what's wrong? You're beginning to worry me. You're not acting like yourself."

"I'm sorry it's just weird hearing you say that you care about me when I have been having a hard time these past few years thinking that anyone cared, even you. Sometimes I don't think anyone except for maybe Anna gives a shit about me. And even with Anna I sometimes think that she's with me only because she feels sorry for me."

"Come on, stop it. You're..." he begins to reply.

"No, listen to me. How can you expect me to believe for a second that anyone gives a shit when every fucking day I get blasted? And then I see you running around with them on the weekends and during lunch period and I just think that sometimes I'm going to lose you to them. What am I supposed to think? Now here you are telling me that you care. I guess I'm just confused."

"Don't be. Remember that no matter what I'll always care about you."

"Then, can I ask you why you even hang out with them?"

"Look, there's nothing to that. I just like doing some things that they like to do. I'm not trying to ditch you but at the same time I want you to be able to have friends apart from me. I don't want to keep you from meeting new people."

My head started to spin as it sank in that Cal really cares about me. I had no idea. I guess all you have to do is just ask sometimes and you'll get an answer.

"But you're not keeping me from meeting new people. It's something I have to take care of on my own. I appreciate what are you trying to do, though. And I know that you and I have hung out in the past and I don't want to wear out my welcome."

"You're not," he says. "I didn't realize how much my association with them was going to affect you this bad. But trust me. It's not as bad as you think. Like I said, it's only a few people and the rest are just wimps when it comes to standing up to them."

"If you say so."

"Listen, I'm going to get to bed. I have to get up early to go to church tomorrow with my parents."

"Fine," I say while I'm now completely floored at his revelations. "Thanks again for everything...and...and for...caring."

"No problem, bud. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

I hang up and sit there for about an hour while listening to some Stevie Nicks. Her music is about the only music that I really get into. Her lyrics hit home and especially after tonight.

Well he may not have gone as far as I had tonight in admitting that he loved me, but at least he gave me hope in telling me that he cares. It's start, right?

- 1995 -

I securely tuck my share of the money in my jacket. I can still taste the man's filth in my mouth and try not to think too much about what he made me do. I focus on the fact that I have to go to the night drop of the bank and deposit Harold's take of the money. That's the standard procedure after going out on a job.

It's cold and starting to rain. Since I don't have a car I begin to walk quicker down the sidewalk towards the bank. I mechanically make the deposit and as I leave the enclosed alcove I catch a glimpse of myself and wonder if I were to see him again if those brown eyes of his can make me feel safe again.



email the author at austswim@aol.com

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