John and Mace: Final

Please forgive me,

Your Puta

P.S. I know it is hard to think things through when life continues all around you, so I have taken the boys for the weekend to give you the time and the space you need to think.

I grabbed my phone and emailed Juan as soon as I could: "Of course I forgive you. Please come home. I don't need time. I need to snuggle under a blanket with my boys, including My Puta."

Juan promised to abide by the rules, and he never spoke of or, to my knowledge, saw Cody again. When Juan cast him aside, he stopped volunteering.

I did, however, borrow some of Cody's moves. I saw how much Juan enjoyed how Cody treated him, and I tried to emulate the dominance and indifference that Cody had shown Juan while I was fucking him.

Two years later, I ate my words and my judgment. My firm had a summer associate who was delectable, and I could not stop thinking about him. His name was Jayesh, he was from India, and he could have been the star of Life of Pi. In fact, he should have been the star. He was better looking than Suraj Sharma. It sounds trite and rings hollow, but he had the face of innocence and the bright eyes and smile of wonder. His smile was the essence of joyous.

I took Jayesh to lunch his first Friday at the firm. It was against the rules to do so, but I ordered a vodka and encouraged him to order one, too. He did. When that one was gone, we ordered another. And another.

Instead of returning to the office, we went to a matinee showing of Pixar's Ratatouille. I pressed my arm against Jayesh's in the dark.

When the movie ended, I wanted the day to go on. Jayesh begged off, and I headed home.

On Monday, he was in my office first thing. "Are you free for lunch today?"

"Sure," I answered.

At lunch, we exchanged what, for us, amounted to witty repartee. "You know," he offered, "some people call me the brown Brad Pitt."

"Really? Do those people have sense and their sensibilities?"

"Well, actually, I call myself that. But, then others say 'did you just call yourself the brown Brad Pitt?' I count that as them calling me the brown Brad Pitt."

"It's easier to get compliments if you reinterpret what others say . . . . What do they really call you? Jay?"

"I embarrassed to admit it, but all my friends call me 'Slumdog' or 'Dog' for short."

"Wow," I answered, dumbfounded. "I can't do that. What shall I call you?"

"Let's throw caution to the wind. You can call me Jayesh."

"I can do that. And, you can call me Mace. I've already grown weary of Mr. Davis."

"Shall I call you Mace because you will burn my eyes?" He asked, pleased with himself.

"No, because my name is Mason, and everyone calls me Mace for short."

"Then you should call me Jay. No one else does. It can be your name for me, for short."

We sat in an awkward silence. He broke it.

"Are you gay, Mace?"

"I am."

"Me, too. Are you taken?"

"I am."

"I'm not. Is your 'taken' negotiable?"

"I have some latitude," I admitted, feeling a little giddy.

"I've never liked longitude," he said, reminding me of fourth grade and maps. "But, I just fell head over heals for like latitude." He stood up and held his hand out to me, inviting me to leave.

"I'll pay the check and meet you at the door," I offered, avoiding his hand.

As we walked, I asked "Where are we going?"

"I chose this restaurant because my sublet is just down the block. I was hoping you were gay and free. I'll take gay and latitude."

We walked on in silence. With every step, I made inner bargains and salved myself with rationalizations. I won't go in. I'll go in just to look around. I'll just kiss him. I'll just let him blow me. I'll just fuck him and not kiss him. It'll just be this once. Juan owes me this. I deserve this. This isn't as bad as what he did and does.

The bargains were illusory and the rationalizations were thinner than carnival lemonade. As soon as Jay closed the door to his apartment, he pushed me back against it and started tugging at my belt and zipper.

"Hey, hey, hey," I said. "Slow down."

"I'm 24 years old," he said. "I don't like to go slow."

"Slowly," I corrected him.

"This isn't a grammar lesson, Mr. Davis," he answered, wounding me with the "Mister Davis."

I scolded him with my eyes. "I'm sorry. This isn't a grammar lesson, Mace." My familiar name sounded lovely in his slight British accident.

He didn't go slowly. Before we had kissed, he had me in his mouth. He knew how to suck dick, taking me deeply, lapping at me with his tongue, and alternating the rhythm. I came faster than I expected. He ignored my warning. He tasted my cum before he tasted my saliva.

I returned the favor. I pulled him up by his armpits and moved him to his sofa. When he was seated, I opened his zipper, and released him from his suit pants. His dick was average in size, but I liked the coloring. It was darker than the rest of him, and the head was bright pink. I sucked him like I meant it. I was surprised when he came. I had felt no tension, and I had heard no gasping or other noises to warn me. It seemed to come from nowhere. His load was small, but sweet, tasting a little like cardamom.

We laid on his couch and kissed, my suit pants around my ankles, and his open at the crotch. I fell asleep. When I awoke, I was thirsty. I decided to drink Jay.

I stood him up. I started licking him as I undressed him. I licked his clavicle, his shoulders, his chest, and his armpits. He was lean, but not muscular. He was built like a runner or some other athlete who had no body fat and minimal muscle definition.

I was relentless. I licked the tast of him, and I tasted every inch of him, trying to get him as riled as I could. When I had him naked and thought I had driven him to the edge, I took him back in my mouth.

"Not that, Mace" I heard him whisper, huskily. "I want you to fuck me instead."

"I don't have a condom."

"I don't care."

"I do. We'll have to save that for next time."

I proved my bargains not to be bargains at all. As I expected, I was going to break the rules. I was going to repeat.

I had Jay sit back down, and I took him into my mouth again. While I did, I raised his legs and laid them over my shoulders, exposing him as much as I could. I circled his anus with my forefinger as I worked my mouth and tongue over his dick and balls. When I felt him open up, I drove my forefinger in. I easily found his prostate and started to work it over. Jay cried out as he tensed and filled my mouth. I kept sucking him until he could not take any more sucking. Then I swallowed his cum. Cardamom again.

I looked at the clock. It was almost five. I had wiled away a second afternoon in as many work days with Jay. I should have felt guilty, but I didn't. I also should have felt guilty that I intended to break the very rules with which I had badgered and threatened Juan over Cody, but I didn't.

I was excited. Actually, I was thrilled, and I had not been thrilled for a long time.

I warned Jay that we were both at risk if we were not discreet. He said he knew and would do nothing to risk a summer of fun. I almost said "this can't go on all summer," but I stopped short. I didn't see any need to put an expiration date on something I had just tasted for the first time.

The next day, Jay again asked me if I was free for lunch. When he slyly showed me one of the Magnums he had bought, I said yes.

We went straight to his sublet, in separate cars. He went in the front and then let me in the back.

Once we were in his apartment, we stripped our suits off as we kissed. Once he was naked, I picked him up, locking my arms under his legs, and walked him to his room. I fucked him on his bed. He was on his back, and his legs were almost perpendicular to his body. He was a great lay, super flexible, submissive when he needed to be, and active when I wanted him to be.

I was soaked with sweat when I came, slamming into him as hard as him as I could. As I did, he grabbed his dick and jacked himself into oblivion, his cum covering his hairless stomach and chest as he arched his back and neck and his eyes rolled back into his head.

I licked a tongue-ful of cum off of him. He scooped up the rest and fed it to me from his fingers. Cardamom.

We had "lunch" almost daily for the rest of the summer. Jay never fucked me. He was a total bottom. I forced him to beg me, and when he gave in and begged for what I was more than happy to give, I fucked him as hard as I could. I fucked him on his back. I fucked him from behind. I fucked him against doors and walls and windows. I fucked him in the shower. I fucked him in my car and on my car. One day, he convinced me to fuck him in the firm's library storage room that no one ever used. One late afternoon, I convinced him to let me fuck him on Black's Beach, not caring that anyone who walked by could see us and anyone within earshot could hear us. I fucked him everywhere I could, other than my bed or my house.

I should have told Juan, but I didn't. I saw no reason to burden him with my sins. I thought I should keep them to myself, so they could oppress me and not him.

Oppress me they did. I beat myself up for what I was doing. I daily resolved to quit Jayesh, and I daily violated my resolution. I have no idea why, but Jayesh lured me down paths I'd never otherwise have trod. The slightest nod of the head or smile would send me reeling. I was like a drug addict, pledging every day to quit, failing, and then pledging the next day again to quit.

Jayesh was heading back to Duke at summer's end. On his last day, I called him to my office and told him to shut the door behind him. When he did, I pushed my chair back and showed him that I was hard and sheathed. He undid his belt, his buttons, and his zipper, lowered his suit pants, and bent over my desk. My office door didn't lock, and the possibility of someone opening the door and seeing the Litigation Chair pounding a summer associate over his desk thrilled me to no end. I fucked him furtively, in plain sight of anyone looking from the office building across the street. When I was finished, I tied the condom off and dropped it in my briefcase. I didn't want the cleaning crew - or anyone else - to find it in my office waste basket.

I made a work excuse to Juan and took Jay to dinner at my favorite restaurant on his last night in town. Jay was maudlin.

"Is this the end of us?" he asked about halfway through dinner.

"I'm afraid so," I answered.

"I wish it wasn't."

"Jay, you're young and beautiful, inside and out. Go find a great love, the kind of love that blinds and cripples you."

"What if I already have?"

"You haven't. This wasn't that. This was just a summer fling. You knew and know that."

"I knew that, but I'm not sure I know that. I think that, at some point, it became more than that for me."

I did not respond to him. He was fishing, and I couldn't take the hook. I'd either lie to him or crush him, and I was unwilling to do either.

So, as is my wont, I diverted him. I stood up, headed toward the Men's Room, and whispered "meet me in the last stall in five minutes" as I passed by him. When he joined me, I was seated deep on the toilet with my pants around my ankles to deter anyone interested in what we were doing. I had Jay stand on the seat in front of me and bend over me, so no one could see his head. Once I had freed from his jeans, I sucked him dry.

All of our subterfuge was for naught, as Jay whimpered loudly when he came. It was the unmasked and unmistakeable sound of a man coming.

From what we could tell, no one was in the Mens' Room with us. So, we changed positions, and I held onto the top of the stall walls while Jay loudly sucked my dick. I thought I was too anxious to come, but his skill neutralized my anxiety enough that I came quietly deep in his throat.

We returned to our table to a suprised waitress. "Oh my gosh," she said. "I thought you two had dined and dashed. You've been gone a long time."

"We went outside to smoke," Jay said, cleverly covering as best he could.

"That's right . . . . We're smokers." When I caught Jay's eye, I mouthed "pole smokers" and cracked him up.

Jay was morose as we waited for our cars and to part. I was not. I was relieved. He had tempted me outside the lines, where I was not comfortable. They were my lines, but I had insisted on them. I should not have blurred them, much less erased them.

But I had. I had risked evertything for a fling. If we had been caught, I'd have been fired, especially if we had been caught in public (the beach) or my office (the desk).

I also would have been divorced. The problem with the high horse is that, if you are going to ride it, you better be a very strong rider, because the fall is severe if you fall or get bucked off.

I was not a strong rider. I had extolled Juan from my saddle, but - less than two years later - was as willing to destroy us as much as he had been. My only consolation was that I had not fallen in love with Jay. It was small consolation and did not lessen the weight of my betrayal. I dragged it around like an anchor on dry ground.

*****

Before I went back to Denver, Juan asked if I was going to see John. I told him the truth. To my suprise, Juan green lighted the visit.

"Fuck him if you want," Juan said. "Just come home when you're done."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, Mace, seriously. You're mine, and I know you're mine. But, I also know you two have an unbreakable bond. You have throughout. I know I can't break it. I tried for a long time. So, if you want to fuck him, then fuck him. Don't tell me if you do, but be safe about it. And come home when you're done."

I was tempted to tell him about Jayesh. But, I didn't. I had to keep that yolk around my shoulders. To me, it was one thing to be an adulterer. It was a whole other thing to be a hypocrite.

*****

I traveled to Denver not knowing whether I would exploit the freedom Juan offered me. Much of me wanted to prove to myself that I was stronger than I proven to be.

John and I laughed and reminisced over drinks and dinner.

"You look like Keith Urban in your old age," he said.

"Thank you. That's high praise. He's gorgeous."

"You are, too."

"You look like the guy from Office Space, only with blue eyes."

"Ron Livingston. I have gotten that before. He is not gorgeous."

"You are. To me. Still."

John covered my hand with his. When dinner was over, he offered to drive me back to my hotel. On the way, he asked if I wanted to see his new home, a bungalow on Washington Park. I thought I knew what saying yes meant. I was with someone, but I said yes anyway. His smile and his touch eroded all resistance I had.

We drank and talked. When it was time for me to leave, John told me I could call a cab or stay the night. He claimed he was too drunk to drive. I knew it was a set up. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

I showed some self-control and insisted on the second bedroom. I was half-asleep when John opened the door and asked if he could come in. I said "sure" and sat up in bed just in time for John's mouth to meet mine. I pretended briefly not to want what I so desperately wanted, and then we kissed hungrily, like we had that first night, when we were carefree and careless, young men on a converted porch on Tulane Avenue.

"I have missed you," he whispered in my mouth. "I was sitting across that table from you and watching your eyes dance and all I could think about was kissing your lips."

We were traveling back in time, to when we were young. We were as we could and should have been, if only John had not been weak. We kissed and kissed and kissed until I raised up and pulled my boxers off.

"I want to make love to you," he whispered. I didn't respond. I pulled him down on top of me and raised my legs. John reached into the nightstand, pulled out a condom and lube, and was quickly ready to enter me.

"Are you sure you want to do this," he asked.

"I am."

"I have not been with a man for a long time."

I didn't believe him. I had heard rumors from Thomas about the demise of his marriage and about an associate in his office. It didn't matter. He was wearing a condom.

Being with John was easy and familiar. He entered me slowly. I adjusted and opened my hips so that he could glide against my prostate. Like I always had, I stared into his eyes as he delivered himself to me.

"You feel so good," he said.

"So do you."

"I have missed this."

"Me, too."

He kept going. His dick control was incredible. After what seemed like forever, he announced he was about to come.

"Me, too."

John arched his back and started slamming into me. The familiar flutter of his eyelids told me he was about finished. He grunted and came, again and again, filling the condom. He collapsed onto me, covering me with his sweat.

"That was a monstrous orgasm," he said.

"I know. I could tell."

"Did you come?"

"No."

"I want you to come in my mouth," he said, tracing a path to my dick with his tongue. He took me expertly. It had clearly not been 15 years since he last blew someone. He was way better than he had been.

I came hard, over and over. John gulped as he kept at me, draining and swallowing all but the last drop. He gave that back to me, off his tongue after he had returned to my mouth and started kissing me again. I don't know when, but we fell asleep.

The next morning, John asked if he could ride me. I answered "of course."

He went back down on me to get me ready. He was coating me with his saliva. His mouth was soaked when he returned it to mine.

"Don't we need a condom?" I asked.

"No. I trust you."

"We need a condom," I insisted. I didn't trust him.

John reached into the nightstand and pulled out a Magnum. The variety of condoms in the drawer reinforced what I had suspected. If John was having sex only with women, there was no need for him to have Magnums in that drawer. He didn't wear them.

John rode me beautifully. With one hand in the middle of my chest, he ran his other hand through his hair and over his face as he rocked back and forth. I held his thighs and started to match him, move for move. I rolled him off of me and onto his back. I stood next to the bed, held his legs flat against my chest, and fucked him as hard and as fast as I could. He didn't balk at all, greedily taking every inch that I offered him.

"Do not come inside me," he said. "I want you to come in my mouth again." I was surprised. John had never liked the taste of cum.

I pulled out and pulled the condom off. John scrambled to the head of the bed and put his head on a pillow. I followed, straddling him and gripping the headboard as I fucked his face. I felt cum race from my balls and down the shaft of my dick.

"Here it is," I announced as I came as hard as I ever had. John gagged a little and some of my cum ran out of his mouth. I came more, replacing what he had lost.

"Don't swallow it all," I insisted, coming some more.

When I was finally done, I pulled my dick out of his mouth and stuck my tongue in. We both tasted my cum as we kissed.

I didn't want my mouth to leave his, so I took him in my hand. I jacked him off as we made out. When I felt him start to come, I sucked his tongue as hard as I could. He coated his chest and stomach. I ran my hand through it and then smeared it into his hair and mine.

As we recovered, John told me he still loved me.

"You always will," I answered. "That's the way 'always and forever' works."

"What time's your flight?"

"12:45."

"Can you move it back?"

"I can try." I called as John cancelled his meetings for the day. I moved to a 5:30 flight, which meant I'd be home for dinner with my family and have most of the day with John.

We spent the day in bed. I should have felt bad, but I didn't. I tried, but I could not make myself.