John Opens the Bottle

I was delirious with happiness when I retrieved him from the airport. I was undisciplined when he deplaned, hugging and kissing him at the gate. I was not an undisciplined person. In fact, I was the most disciplined person I knew. Mace was challenging me.

After sex that night, I admitted to Mace that I wished the world was a place where we could stay happy and with each other forever. I did not tell him that I knew it was not.

The next night, it was time for the other shoe to drop. I had deprived myself for as long as I could, pretending I was a virgin and that I feared Mace's size.

I was surprised when Mace rimmed me. It was the move of a veteran, not a neophyte.

I was also thrilled. I loved being rimmed.

I clenched as Mace tried to work me open. I had to perpetuate the lie that I had told.

Mace worked his way in slowly, too slowly. I played the fool until I could not take it anymore.

"Go ahead. I want to feel what you feel when I come inside you."

Mace fucked me and then sucked me dry. The next morning, he was at me again, this time while I was on my back. When he hit my prostate, I almost came all over myself.

We continued on like that for the rest of the summer. The sex was incredible. The love was better.

Part Six

The last weekend of Mace's summer brought his friend, Freddie, to visit. I planned to have dinner with them on Friday night and then drive to Chicago for the weekend so I could reaffirm my heterosexuality and they could play golf and catch up. When I met Freddie, I changed my plans, at least in my mind. He was the most attractive man I had ever seen in real life. He had unkempt, curly brown hair, twinkly eyes, and a broad smile that eroded volition. I should have, but I did not trust him and Mace alone for a weekend.

When I took Mace that night, I imagined I was Freddie, delivering myself to him. I took as long as I could, sliding in and out of him as slowly and as sweetly as I could.

When Mace took me the next morning, I lost my discipline. I urged Mace on and certainly betrayed to Freddie that one of us was fucking the other behind closed doors.

I surprised Mace by staying in St. Louis. I could not bear the idea of being without him.

As I fucked Mace that night, I realized I was in trouble. I knew we could not go on like this forever, but I also knew that I wanted to. I was lost in this thing, undisciplined where I never had been before.

I was being forced into honesty unlike ever before. When Mace thanked me for loving him, I admitted it was the easiest thing I had ever done. When Mace told me he would be lost without me, I begged him to "never let me go." I meant it. I knew the vision I had of who I was and where I was going was inconsistent with a life with Mace, so I would bolt - or at least try to bolt - at some point. I hoped that, when I did, Mace would be strong enough to pull me back, to anchor me to him, to convince me of what I knew, that life with him was better than life without him, no matter what a life with him meant.

I toyed with the idea of life with Mace longer than I expected. We spent my third year of law school together. We pretended our friends did not recognize what was plainly visible to them, namely that Mace and I were in love with each other.

We thought about Mace spending his third year at Georgetown. He was willing, as he fully embraced the idea of us. I balked at the last minute, fearing it would be tantamount to a public declaration. Really, it could not have been anything else. No matter how close the friendship, men did not move halfway across the country for each other if they were not lovers. I would not allow Mace be a Hoya, not matter how much I wanted him to be.

We went to Mexico together. While there, Mace told me he had blown Freddie. I could not blame him. I would have, too. I was jealous, not angry. I was titillated when he told me the details of it.

I moved to D.C. It was easier to delude myself about Mace when he was not in front of me every day. Before, every time I thought I could quit him, his eyes and his smile convinced me otherwise. I loved his voice, but it did not have the same effect on me when he was miles away.

By the time he visited for Spring Break, I had talked myself into the conclusion it was time for me to leave childish pursuits behind and to move to the next stage of my life. I wanted Mace to be part of that stage, but not the star of it. I was returning to the narrow and straight, once again. I would like to write that I decided Mace deserved more than I could ever give him, but I had not. I thought of myself, not of him.

"You can't have it all," he said. "I'm not going to be your plaything."

"I know," I answered. "You have made that clear. . . . Sometimes, I want to grab you, steal away to an island, and live happily ever after."

"We don't have to go to an island to live happily ever after."

"We do."

It was a different time. Gay was still profoundly out of the mainstream. Being gay limited choices, closed options, ruined careers and relationships. There were glimmers of hope, but it was, for far too many people, a life altering declaration that could never be undone. Mace was strong enough to endure that declaration. I was not. I would not risk who I planned to be. I would not risk my relationship with my partners. I would not forsake my friends.

"Mace, I am not gay," I protested. "You may be, but I am not. I just cannot be."

Mace left the next day. I cried as he did. I knew what I had to do, and it broke my heart to do it.

I called Mace that night. Although I did not want to, I told him what I had decided. I hoped he could and would convince me I was wrong. He did not. He barely tried. He was not as strong as I had encouraged him to be.

*****

I do not recall much of the next two months. I sleepwalked through the days. My cowardice disgusted me, and I was heartbroken at the loss of Mace.

When Vi visited, she reminded me of Mace. I associated the two of them. For a long time, I had imagined him when I was inside of her. I let her go, too.

Almost every day, I picked up the telephone to call Mace. I always put it back down.

I hoped every time my telephone rang that it was he. It never was.

No matter how hard I tried, I could not not think about him. I started seeing him in every blond man I encountered.

I gave in. I bought a ticket and traveled to his graduation.

My heart swelled when Mace turned toward me. I wanted to run to him, tell him I was sorry for abandoning him, and insist I wanted exactly what he wanted for us.

I waited for him to come to me. I could not lay myself bare. I was anxious about his reaction to my unannounced return.

Mace's touch resolved my anxiety. We left the hall. We kissed. In that kiss, I tried to share every thought I was thinking, to resolve every doubt I had.

We hurried back to his apartment to make love. I was as needy as I had ever been. It was better than it had ever been.

For awhile, my doubts were gone. We easily returned to John and Mace, Josie and the Carrot. I looked forward to our life together.

Still, I could not help but feel that all eyes were on us, seeing us for what we truly were. I could not stand the scrutiny. I could not be what we were.

When Mace tried to take my hand in a restaurant, I instinctively pulled it back.

When Mace wrote "I love you" on a note or in a letter, I shredded it.

When Mace leaned his head against my shoulder as we walked, I could not help but veer off.

I was a coward and weak. I wanted Mace, but only on my terms, out of the public eye, hidden in plain view.

I knew Mace would accept those limitations for awhile. But, I also knew that, at some point, he would force me to choose. I knew what I would choose. In the end, I did not really have a choice. I could not reject years of breeding and years of dreaming. I would not choose a forbidden life.

It took Mace less than a year to force the issue. We were at Freddie's wedding, and Mace got caught up in the moment. He asked if I would marry him if I could. I wanted to say yes. More than anything, I wanted to say yes.

It would have been a lie. I would not marry him. Even if I could, I would not. I was not ready for that for which the world was not ready. I was not comfortable on the high dive, where all the world could see me. I could not escape what I expected for myself.

He had to know what I would answer before he asked. He had to be testing me. I knew I was failing as I said something other than "yes."

We made love to each other. I knew it was the end. I did not want it to be, but I knew it was. I wanted to hold on. I wanted to convince Mace that catching each other here and there would work, that we could make a life through bits and pieces. But, I knew I never could. What I thought would be enough for me would never be enough for him.

I let him go. To be fair to Mace. To let him chase his dream. Unlike the last time, I thought of him, not of me.

Part Seven

When Mace left, I was confident I was done with men for good. None could compare, and I did not want a sorry substitute.

I had met Susan when I moved to D.C. She was clerking down the hall and was one of the funniest people I had ever met. She was a "wash and go" girl, happy to pull her hair back and head out, without effort or makeup.

We became fast friends. She was in a long distance engagement. After a few months, I told her all about Mace. I had never told anyone, and it was too much to carry around. I had to tell someone. And, I needed to quell any concern she had that I would not respect her engagement.

When Mace left, she nursed me through the sadness. I knew he was right to leave, and I was at some level relieved he had. But, I still ached at the loss of him.

Susan and I did something almost every night after work. When we not together, we were on the telephone. It was not long before we were dating without dating.

In late April, Susan left to visit Andy, the fiancé, in New York. I was retrieving her Monday morning from National.

I had a miserable weekend waiting for and without Susan. It ever surprises me how quickly someone becomes essential. You have a full life without them, you meet them, and then you cannot remember how you had a full life without them. It had been that way with Mace. It was now that way with Susan.

I stopped at a coffee hut so I would have coffee for her when she climbed in. She beamed at me and waved frantically as I pulled up to the curb. We stopped at a park to have our coffee. We sat across from each other at a picnic table. She clearly had something to say, but she would not say it.

"What?" I finally asked.

"I just have to say it. I think we need to break up. I know we're not dating. But, it seems like it, and it's not fair to Andy. I thought about you all weekend. He knew I was distracted. I told him about Mace, to give him some comfort. It worked, but it's still not fair for me to be with him wishing I was with you."

"What does this breakup look like?"

"We have to stop hanging out."

"That will be tough. Our entire social circle is the group of clerks with whom we work."

"We'll have to divide them up."

We talked on, rationally doing the irrational. "What shall we do about Friday?" I asked. Friday was Lisa's birthday, and six of us were going to her house for dinner.

"Let's leave it as is. I think we can make it through one dinner."

The week was miserable. No telephone calls. No visits.

The dinner for Lisa started very awkwardly. Susan and I kept our distance from each other, noticeably. If Susan was in the kitchen, I was in the living room. If I was in the kitchen, Susan was in the living room.

We sat at opposite ends of the table. We drank too much wine. About halfway through the dinner, Susan removed her engagement ring and placed it on the table. I was the first to notice. I raised my eyebrows, and she mouthed "I love you." I stood and walked out toward her. She stood and walked toward me. I took her in my arms and, for the first time ever, kissed her. It was a kiss about which people talk and write.

When we parted, the apartment was empty. Everyone had left. We left, too. I grabbed Susan's ring and pocketed it.

We held hands as I drove to her apartment. She fumbled with the keys. I was not sure I was to follow her in. She grabbed my hand and pulled me in behind her. I picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. I undressed her and then myself. I knew I would enter her as soon as I could, so I started at her feet. I made my way up her. I took her in my mouth, working her over until she clutched and pulled my hair. I heard her gasp when I slipped my finger inside of her. She hooked her hands under my arms and pulled me to her mouth. I plunged my tongue in her mouth as she guided me toward her. I continued kissing her as I slid in. She moaned into my mouth. I held perfectly still, letting her adjust around and to me. I raised up on my arms and started sliding in and out of her, slow and steady. I had not been inside a woman for almost a year.

I had not been able to make Vi come from penetration. She said she never had. I had to use my mouth or my hand. Or, she had to use her hand while I fucked her.

I made Susan come before I was even close. She arched her neck and squeezed her breasts as she came. I lowered my head and kissed and sucked on her neck. She raised her legs and opened up to me even more than she had been. I was as deep as I could go. I hooked her knees under my elbows and started driving in and out of her with purpose. My chest hair was slick with sweat. I dripped between her breasts. I thickened and then unloaded, shuddering as I came. I released her legs, pulled out of her, and rolled off of her. Neither of us said a word.

Susan rolled into me. She put her mouth on my left nipple and started sucking it. There is a direct line from my nipples to my dick. I got hard. Susan took me in her hand, maneuvered over me, and slid down on me. She started rocking back and forth. Every once and again, she would slide all the way down, adjust herself, and then clench me with her walls.

I rolled her onto her back, and she tried with her hands to push me through her. Her whole body shook when she came.

She wheeled around and begged me to take her from behind. I drove into her.

"Squeeze my tits while you fuck me," she insisted. I sat back on my haunches, and she followed me. She locked her hands behind my neck, and I took her tits in my hands and squeezed them,

"Harder," she insisted. I banged into her as hard as I could.

"Not that," she said. "My tits. Squeeze them harder."

I did. She cried out as I continued to drive in and out of her. We were soaked with sweat when we came. Like her, I loved it.

*****

When I woke up the next morning, Susan was gone. I found her in the kitchen, on the telephone. She wrote "Mom" on a piece of paper. She was breaking the "no wedding" news to her mother. I poured coffee and went to the balcony. I thought she needed privacy.

She joined me about an hour later. "How did that go?" I asked.

"Better than expected," she said. "My parents apparently were never wild about Andy. They're anxious about the circumstances, but they're glad I decided not to marry him."

"Did you tell him?"

"No, I think I need to do that in person. I'm flying up next weekend."

"I want to go with you."

"No. I need to do this on my own."

We were together the entire week. I went to my apartment only to dress for work.

Susan was unlike any woman with whom I had ever been. She loved sex. She wanted to have it all the time. She initiated it if I did not.

She touched me like a guy. She put her hands and mouth all over me. As I never had with Vi, I felt desired.

She liked giving me head. She was not great at it, but she was always willing. She let me straddle her face. She let me come in her mouth. She licked my balls. She licked my ass. She even fingered it.

When she was really horny, she begged me to fuck her ass. She masturbated as I did.

As Friday got close, I grew increasingly anxious. I wondered if Andy could reel Susan back in. I doubted it, but you never know in affairs of the heart. Love ebbs and flows.

Susan was headed directly to the airport from work. I would not see her again after Friday morning. I gave her as much as I could Friday morning. I took her over the edge with my tongue and then again with my dick. When I was finished, I covered her with my sweaty body, staying inside of her until I wilted and slipped out.

My anxiety was unnecessary. Susan was back in D.C. mid-afternoon on Saturday, and Andy was gone for good.

We spent the summer together. For all intents and purposes, we lived together.

When our clerkships ended, I stayed in D.C. for two years in the Solicitor General's office. Susan headed to an environmental non-profit in Denver. We tried to see each other each weekend, often meeting in Chicago or St. Louis.

About six months after our clerkships ended, Susan called me in the middle of the night. She had gone to an engagement party that night. After her friend Ellen had toasted her fiancé, he stunned those gathered by crying and announcing - in front of everyone - that he was gay and there would be no wedding.

Cyring herself, Susan insisted "You have to promise you will never do that to me."

As she told the story, my body filled with dread. I made a promise I was not sure that I could or would keep.

Part Eight

Susan and I were getting married in Vail the first weekend of August. I wanted Mace to be my best man, but I was not sure how Susan would react to the idea.

I never found out. When I floated the balloon past Mace, he popped it, turning me down flat. For a long time, I did not think he would even come to the wedding. Ultimately, he did, bringing the guy he had been seeing - Juan - with him.

They were at dinner Friday night, both in linen suits, Mace's dark blue and Juan's cream. They made a stunning couple, Mace, blond and bright, next to Juan, dark and brooding.

Susan was eager to meet Mace. She wanted to meet the guy who had tempted me to the other side of the mountain. He was the only one about whom she knew.

We were at the bar. The four of us stood awkwardly together. I was between Mace and Susan, and Mace was between Juan and me. I was impressed by the irony of the positioning.

Susan wrestled the moment to the ground. She took Mace's hand in hers, looked him straight in the eyes, and introduced herself.

"John has told me all about you," she assured him. I had, and I had told Mace I had.

She then introduced herself to Juan, who seemed very uncomfortable. I understood. He knew no one. He was confronting the love of Mace's life. He was, I was certain, at a wedding he thought should not be happening.

"Tell me, Mace," I heard Susan whisper. "What did you love most about John?"

"It's do, not did," Mace corrected her. "And, I'm not sure there's any one thing. But, what I remember most is how he reacted when I told him how my sister had died. It was all kindness, no pity. And, he also reminded me to enjoy myself. I had not for a very long time. What about you? What do you love most about him?"

I was interested in her answer. I had never asked her the question.

"I want to shock you and say something bawdy like 'how his cum tastes.' But, you'd know I was lying. It's not tasty. So, I'll be honest. I most love his eyes. They're beautiful and revelatory. They tell you what he's thinking. They betray him when he lies."

Uh oh, I thought to myself, as I wondered if she was correct. I doubted she was. I had told Mace a lot of lies, and he had never called any of them out out.

Susan and I needed to circulate. I also wanted to get her away from Mace. And, I needed to get myself away from Mace. When I was near him, I was not to be trusted.