Sea Change, Chapter 39: Lenny

By Josh

I wish to retain all rights to this story. However, I am delighted to grant permission for any person or entity, to publish this story as long as there is no charge to the reader and as long as no changes are made to the story.

Copyright © 2004-2006. All Rights Reserved.

It was cold, and I tugged my jacket tightly around me as Daniel drove off into the night. I pulled my bag and books from the Bronco and locked it. A gust of wind blew through the parking lot, and with it, came the cold reality of my return to Trinity.

I stood there, reluctant to go to my dorm. After a weekend of heaven with Daniel, it was hard to return to the hell of being the only outed gay on campus.

And yet, the campus was pretty in the night. Dorm lights flickered through the branches of trees. The only noise was that of the soft breeze.

There were few people out, and no one seemed to notice me. I made it all the way to my room without having to greet anyone, or be ignored by anyone.

Ferg was sitting on my bed talking to Eric when I stepped into the room.

"Finally!" Eric said. "How was your trip?"

"Great," I said, putting down my bag. "The home team won and my little brother threw two touchdown passes and ran one in, himself."

"Cool," Eric said. "Your black eye is almost gone. Did anyone ask about it?"

"Yeah," I said, sitting down at my desk. "My mom is going to whip your ass."

Ferg laughed.

I eyed Eric speculatively. "Why did you say 'finally' like that when I walked in?"

"We've been waiting for you," Eric replied. "Ferg has an idea we wanted to tell you about."

Ferg was smiling, but I was suspicious. "Yeah, I've benefited from a couple of his ideas already," I said. "What kind of idea does he have this time?"

"A better one than yours," Ferg said with a smile. "Your idea was stupid; you had it backwards. You gave the wrong guy a black eye."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. What you should have done was given Eric the black eye. That way, everyone would have respect for you. I mean, anybody who could give Eric a black eye is no pansy."

I shook my head sadly. "And you thought my idea was stupid."

"Hey, what's wrong with my idea? It's a great idea!"

"Oh sure. As if anyone for a moment would believe I could give Eric a black eye unless I snuck up on him. And then half the school would be out to get revenge. Besides, what reason would I have for even wanting to do that?"

"He can provoke you, somewhere public where people will see. Then you just clobber him."

"Eric," I said, shaking my head and turning to him. "You've been in a prank war with this guy for a couple of weeks. Has it occurred to you that he's figured out a way to get us both back? You get a black eye and a reputation for being whipped by a... pansy. And I get beaten to a pulp by all your friends."

"Hey!" Ferg growled. "I was just trying to be helpful"

I leaned back in my seat and sighed. "Yeah, well I appreciate that, Ferg. But I'm not going to do it."

He crossed his arms and leaned back on the bed. "It's a damned good idea."

. . . . .

The phone call came when Eric was in the bathroom, getting ready for bed. "Sean Sullivan?" a guy's voice asked.

"Yeah," I answered, guardedly.

"I just wanted to let you know that you aren't the only gay guy on campus."

"Thanks," I said. "Who is this?"

He hung up.

. . . . .

Incredibly, I woke the next morning hard and a bit horny. It always seemed to be the way; the more that Daniel and I had sex, the more I needed it. I ignored my erection and dressed. It subsided and I headed for class.

Mid-morning, I stopped by Tom's office. He had left a message with Eric that he wanted to see me.

Tom's small office on campus lacked the charm of his office at home. It lacked charm, period. It was a mass of books and stacked papers with a desk and chair vaguely present somewhere in the middle. The one clean, bright spot was his tall narrow window. The school paid somebody to keep it clean.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, waving me in. "You've told me before. I will clean it some day." Then a wicked smile came onto his face. "Hey, I'm paying you. You could get this all organized for me."

"You're not paying me; the school is. And there are labor laws against this kind of work. Besides," I said, looking around the room. "They aren't paying me enough."

"You welfare recipients are all alike," he said with a twinkle in his eye, and shoved a check across the desk at me. "You're first payment."

I picked it up. The check was for three hundred dollars. "Wow! Thanks!"

"Now, slave," he said, shoving a manuscript toward me, "I need this proofed ASAP, and since I'll be out of town Wednesday night, you can spend the time we'd normally get together, working on it instead."

I studied the thick sheaf of papers skeptically. "I need more than three hundred dollars for this. I mean, when you break it down over how many hours it'll take, why, we are talking slave labor."

"Nonsense. You've got two weeks; no more. So you better get cracking."

"I will, Master, I promise," I said, making several obsequious bows. "I'll find every piddling mistake you've made in this piece of... work."

"Ungrateful bastard," he said with a grin. "Get outta here."

. . . . .

"Sean!" Caitlyn called after me as I left the locker room that afternoon. I turned and she caught up, a hesitant smile on her face.

"I really need help with algebra. Could you stop by tonight? Just for a little while?" she pleaded, walking alongside me.

I wasn't surprised; math was not one of her long suits. "Sure. I'll come by after supper."

"Thanks," she said, and then walked silently beside me.

"Sean?" she asked quietly. "Why don't you tell people you aren't gay?"

"Because I am gay," I said.

She looked up at me in obvious frustration. "But you aren't!"

"Yeah," I said with a resigned smile. "I am."

Her brow furrowed. "So you were lying when you said I turned you on?" she bluntly asked.

I pulled up short, and she stopped with me. "Caitlyn, I never lied to you," I said. "It's not like gay guys don't ever get turned on by a girl. At least, I do... on very rare occasions." I smiled. "A guy would have to be gay - plus to not be turned on at least a little bit by you."

She considered that for a moment, and then smiled back. "I did turn you on at that party."

"I almost creamed my pants and you know it," I said.

She gasped, delightedly. Then she laughed and leaned closer. "I got awfully excited, myself."

We resumed walking toward the dorms. "So who is Linda?" she asked. "That girl in the picture with you? That's not really a guy, is it?"

"Oh, shit, Caitlyn. Don't ever ask her that."

"And you've had sex with her?"

"Yeah."

Caitlyn thought about that for several steps. "So you do it with girls, too?"

"No. Not really. Linda was sort of a special case. Besides, my boyfriend doesn't want me doing girls."

"That sounds just plain weird," she said. "You saying that you have a boyfriend."

"I do. You remember Daniel?"

She nodded. "He's really cute."

"He's more than cute," I said.

"How come he doesn't want you dating girls?"

I shrugged. I'd been blunt so far, and felt I could still be. "He's a little insecure about it, I guess. Plus, he doesn't want me screwing things up by getting a girl pregnant."

"Yeah, well, most girls wouldn't want you to do that either... so you aren't ever going to go out with a girl again?"

The time for being blunt had come to an end. I had no idea how Caitlyn would take it if I told her that Dan and I were hoping to do a girl that coming weekend; Linda. "Who knows," I said. "Maybe."

Too late, I decided it might have been better to lie; to say I'd never do a girl again. But Caitlyn walked silently beside me and I let it drop.

. . . . .

On Tuesday morning, I woke with a feed-me hard-on. I hadn't had one of those in ages, but all the sex the weekend before had primed the pump. I looked at my clock and inwardly groaned. I didn't even have enough time to properly jack off. I needed to get to class. I had to work to hide my erection while I showered (and pissed) until eventually it subsided.

The South Texas weather had changed that morning to match my mood; a west wind came off the mountains of Mexico, bringing heat. It was already into the eighties by the time I headed to class.

I felt randy as hell, all day. I couldn't concentrate. I stole glances at guys' butts. I thought about finding a john someplace to jerk off, but then decided that would be totally unsatisfying. I thought about driving to Austin to tackle Daniel into the back of the Bronco, but the day had turned hot as hell and I had assignments due the next day. In the end, I decided to see if Lenny or Michael were home.

When my last class before swimming ended a full hour before I would have to be at the pool, I decided to skip swimming, and headed over to Lenny's house.

No one answered the door, but Lenny's red Pinto was in the drive. If he was inside screwing someone, in my mood, I wanted in on it. I banged more loudly on the door. And then it occurred to me that he might be out back, working in his greenhouse.

I had been impressed with the greenhouse when he had shown it to me the week before. Constructed of wood, glass, and corrugated plastic panels, it was roomy; twenty feet by twelve, and full of plants. The floor was gravel and stone. The tables were of slatted wood. Inside, it smelled damp and earthy.

I went through the side gate closest to the greenhouse and the latch clinked loudly when I shut it behind me.

"Who's there?" Lenny's voice called from inside the greenhouse.

"It's just me," I said, stepping up to the greenhouse door, where I was immediately struck by the heat. Though the green house had fans at both end, and open windows, it was still hot inside. Lenny, who stood working at a table just inside the door, turned as I entered.

"Sean? Oh shit!" Lenny said in surprise. He wore only sandals, short cutoffs, and gardening gloves. His hair was damp and disheveled, and his hard, slender body was covered in a sheen of sweat and dirt. His cutoffs rode low on his hips and the waistband was wet from perspiration.

His slender stomach, glistening and slick, moved in and out with each breath. Every muscle of his torso was clearly visible and the muscles of his legs were perfectly defined. Veins stood out on his forearms, and were just visible on his belly where they rose from the front of his shorts.

It wasn't just my randy mood. I had grown up in South Texas and hard, sweaty bodies in cutoffs or shorts had been turning me on for years; but few had ever looked like Lenny's did. And for some reason, the large, rough-leather gardening gloves made him look even hotter.

"Oh, Sean. What are you doing here at this time of day?" Lenny, complained in a loud voice. He pushed his hair back from his face with the back of his forearms and placed his gloved hands on his hips. "I look like a piece of shit."

I crossed the three feet between us and looking him up and down with great satisfaction, I wrapped my arms around his waist. "You've never looked sexier," I said throatily.

Lenny laughed, playfully trying to push me away with a hand to my stomach. "Sean," he squealed. "You're crazy."

"No," I said, grinding my erection against him. "I'm just horny as hell and seeing you like this... " I felt my nostrils flare as I took a deep breath of him. "Seeing you like this just pushed me over the edge." I pulled his belly hard to me and covered his mouth with mine.

He was tense at first, but then his mouth opened to mine, and he relaxed into me. Without breaking the kiss, I slid my left arm up to hold him around his shoulders while I unbuttoned his shorts with my right, and slid my open hand into the front of his briefs.

His cock was already thickening, and I pulled it straight up. Then sliding my fingers under his balls, I rubbed the underside of his cock with the heel of my hand.

Lenny moaned, leaning back against my arm.

"You're about the hottest thing I've ever seen," I whispered.

"You're getting your clothes all sweaty," he warned, his breath becoming shallow.

"You're right," I said. "Let's get them off."

. . . . .

I rolled off him, into the grass. "We're sweating so much," I said, catching my breath, "that we're watering your back yard for you."

Lenny rolled up on his side and laid his hand on my stomach, his leg over mine. "I can't believe we just did that," he said with a grin. "You really are crazy."

"I'm crazier than you think," I said, and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him up on to me. "Because we're about to do it again."

Lenny smiled and kissed the tip of my nose. "I'm glad we have a high fence," he said.

"Who cares about a fence," I answered.

He laughed, and wrapping his arms over my head, he kissed me.

. . . . .

Still naked, we stepped back into the greenhouse. Now both of us were sweaty and dirty. "Look at this," Lenny said, pointing to a table that held seedlings, pots, and potting soil. "I still have all these to do."

"I'll help," I said. "It's my fault you're behind.... well, actually it's your behind's fault that you're behind."

He popped my butt. "Come here," he said, stepping up to the table. "I'll show you how to pot seedlings."

Forty-five minutes later, he nudged my shoulder with his. "You're a natural," he said. "You sure you never did this before."

"Never. But any time you need help, let me know. This is fun."

"Which part?" Lenny asked with a grin.

I laughed. "All your parts."

He blew me a kiss. "We'll go inside in a second," he said. "Let me just finish up here. Why don't you put these extra pots over on that table by the door?"

Stepping back from the table, I started to wipe my dirty hands off on my hips, but remembered that I was naked. So I wiped them on Lenny's tight butt, leaving black streaks of potting soil.

I liked the effect, but Lenny squealed, twisting his hips away while trying not to drop the seedling on which he was working. "Arrgh! I'm not a towel!" he cried out. "There's a hose attached to the sink faucet by the door. Wash your hands off there."

"Don't complain," I said. "Your butt looks fantastic that way. Besides you're going to take a shower with me anyway."

"And you'll wash my butt off for me," he warned with a sly grin.

"With everything I have," I answered, chuckling.

I turned on the hose and began rinsing my hands over the utility sink to which it was fastened. At first the water was hot from being in the hose. But it quickly turned icy cold as it came up through the plumbing. San Antonio's water supply is from wells.

I glanced over at Lenny's naked form, bent over the worktable, and couldn't resist; I hosed him.

With a howl, Lenny recoiled away, falling backwards onto his butt. I was laughing so hard, that when he sprang to his feet and came at me, I was almost powerless to move. He tried to grab the hose away from me and was surprisingly strong, but I held on. Like a fountain, the water bubbled up between us. Lenny succeeded in pointing it in my direction and I cried out as the water washed down my front.

Releasing the hose, I embraced Lenny hard, pinned his arms, and the hose between our bodies. Icy water washed down both of our fronts.

We screamed. We yelled. And I held on tightly to Lenny.

"Baby," he finally managed to gasp. "I don't need an operation now. You're freezing my balls off."

My mouth dropped, and then I roared. I sat down, laughing, and Lenny, laughing, held the hose over my head.

"You asshole!" I said, making a grab for the hose.

He lifted it above my swipe, and kept the water on me. "You need cooling off, Baby," he said. "You came over here all hot and I'm taking care of you."

Then he dropped to his knees beside me, laughing, and held the hose over his own head.

. . . . .

We stepped from the hot shower and I toweled Lenny's back.

"I'll fix us some supper," Lenny said.

"Nah. Can't. I've got a couple of major assignments due tomorrow, and if I hadn't been so horny, I'd be working on them already." I toweled his butt and up between his legs.

"Will they still have supper going at your dorm?" he asked.

"Nah. Not a big deal, I've got an apple and a banana in my room."

"That's not a supper. At least let me make you a sandwich."

"OK," I said, handing him the towel and turning my back to him. "I might have time for a sandwich."

"I should wash your clothes, too," Lenny said, wiping the towel over my back.

"Nope. I'm taking the wonderful aroma with me."

"You're weird, Baby, but whatever gets you off." He toweled my butt. "What are you doing tomorrow night? Why don't you let me fix you a fancy supper? I owe you for helping me." He turned me to face him, and toweled over my chest.

"I'm not sure who owes whom," I said, giving him a quick peck on the forehead. "You don't need to fix me a supper."

"Oh, let me do it, Sean," he said, toweling down my stomach. "I haven't fixed a fancy meal in a while. I'd like to."

"Fancy, huh?"

"Yeah, fancy."

"Will Michael be here?" I asked.

"He's working tomorrow again."

"Where's Adam?" I asked. "I haven't seen him much."

"Adam's got a boyfriend. He'll probably move in with him before long, but as long as he's paying rent, I'm happy if he's gone all the time. So it'll be just us. Is that OK, Baby?"

"Sure," I said. "Means we can have dessert anywhere in the house."

Lenny grinned and dropping the towel, pressed his naked body to mine. "Damn you're a horny guy! You think you can keep up with me?"

. . . . .

"Maybe you could wear a hat and sunglasses," Linda suggested.

"Yeah, I can do that," I said, and leaned back in my desk chair, shifting the phone to my other ear. "OK, let's go over it again -- you call Daniel's dorm room on Saturday as soon as you know your room number at the hotel and the best way to get in without Janet or any of the others seeing us. I wear sunglasses and a hat, just in case anyone does see us. We sneak into your room and put on our costumes and then turn up late to the ball so that you can make an entrance."

Linda laughed. "That's it, but I wouldn't call them much of a costume. Just to warn you, Sean, I'm no seamstress and if I asked for help, it would blow our surprise. I think I did OK, and I used Velcro to fasten the loincloths so if my measurements are a little off, they should still fit. Oh, the loincloths might be a little short; be sure you bring your undies."

"A little short, huh?"

"Maybe. But they're cute. I can't wait to see you guys in them."

. . . . .

"So?" Daniel asked. "I won't see you until Saturday?"

"I really think we ought to save ourselves for Linda, and for Saturday night. If I come Friday, we'll make love all night and wear ourselves out. Besides, I have tons of schoolwork to catch up on. I was thinking it'd be good to stay here and work on Friday night, and then come to Austin on Saturday so we can ride to San Marcos together. Then we might be able to have some time together on Sunday as well."

Daniel was quiet a moment. "In that case, instead of no sex after Wednesday, how about no sex after Thursday? Marco and I were talking about getting together and he can't until Thursday."

"Marco, huh?" I asked.

"Hey, don't give me any grief. You've got a whole harem down there."

"OK, OK," I said. "Just be ready Saturday, Dan. Remember, Linda's no beauty; not on the outside, at least. But she's really sweet to do this and I want it to be special for her, and for you."

"We'll make it special," Dan assured me. "I still think the whole costume ball thing sounds like a blast."

"Well, we need to treat Linda right. Guys haven't always done that; like I've told you. We need to focus on her the whole time. You know, treat her special; like a date."

"I understand, Seany. But you need to remember that I'm gay, alright. I may not get it up for her."

"Just relax, Dan. It'll be fun. If nothing else, it'll be a fun party. If we don't get it on with Linda, that's fine, I know who can take care of you."

"You better be planning on some of that anyway," he warned.

"Linda first," I said. "Then... whatever happens, happens. Now just a couple of other things. We need sandals; brown preferably. Linda was able to get a couple of sets of leggings from a fraternity friend – they used them for a toga party. And we need something to wear under the loincloths. Linda said underwear, but if people are likely to see them, I thought speedos would look a hell of a lot better than old white briefs."

"Say no more," Daniel said. "I know just what to bring. I'll bring you one too."

"What?"

"You'll have to wait. It'll be a surprise... for our date."

. . . . .

I had seen him around; tall and extremely thin, an upper classman with permanently unkempt black hair. He looked like a bookworm, always preoccupied, always deep in concentration on something other than the world around him.

He came up alongside me the next morning, Wednesday, while I was bent over drinking from a water fountain in the hall and waited until I finished. "Hi," he said as I straightened up.

Up close, he was tall; taller than Aaron. He had four or five inches on me, easily, and for a brief second, I wondered how long his cock would be. "Hi," I answered.

"I like the name, Streak," he said, seriously. "It's cool. Keep it."

I smiled. "I don't think I have any choice. But thanks."

He looked both ways and then inclined his head to me. "I'm gay, too."

"Thanks," I said, studying his eyes. I wasn't used to guys simply walking up and telling me that they were gay, and I wondered why he did. He didn't appear to be coming on to me. His look was more like that of a fellow conspirator, a comrade. "You didn't call my room the other night, did you?" I asked.

"No," he answered in surprise. "Why?"

I shrugged. "Somebody did; wanted to tell me he was gay, but wouldn't say his name. " I glanced up at him. "What's your name?"

"Blake."

"Do you know if there are any other gays on campus? Or are we the only ones?" I asked with a smile.

"I know two others," he said. "We're not really out yet."

"Well thanks for telling me. It's good to know there are others," I said. "Maybe I can meet the other two sometime."

Blake nodded. "They're a little shy. But maybe we can meet downtown or something."

"That's cool," I said.

"Yeah, well," he said, backing away. "I just thought you ought to know."

"Thanks."

. . . . .

The florist that most students used had a small shop on St. Mary's street, not far from campus. I stopped there, mid-afternoon, to make sure they would have the garlands Dan and I needed for Linda on Saturday.

And then, because I was in a "date" mood, I bought a long-stemmed rose on an impulse. Not a red one, because it was too clichéd, and too romantic in its implications. Instead, I bought a white one, and then I purchased a cheap, Styrofoam ice chest and a bag of ice at a convenience store close by. I put the rose inside to save for that night. Lenny said he was going to fix a fancy meal; I would go fancy.

. . . . .

"We missed you yesterday, Longstory," Caitlyn said as we started stretching at poolside. "I wanted to tell you, I did great on my Algebra test yesterday."

"Great, Cait," I said with a grin, as I crossed my legs and bent over to stretch my back. "Now you don't need my help anymore."

Caitlyn bumped my hip with hers. I lost my balance and fell with a yelp just as Coach was walking past.

"Were you sick yesterday, Mr. Sullivan?" he asked, stopping beside me as I stood back up.

I thought back to my distracted horniness of the day before. "A little feverish," I said.

"Are you alright to swim today?" he asked with a frown.

"Yes sir, I'll be fine."

"Well get out if you start to feel bad," he said.

"Thanks, Coach."

He snorted. "I just don't want you puking in my pool."

Caitlyn giggled.

Coach continued on to the bleachers.

"Hey, Longstory," Caitlyn said as we resumed stretching. "Want to go dancing this weekend?"

"I can't. I'm going to be out of town."

"Again?" she asked, sounding frustrated. "Your boyfriend?" she whispered.

"Yeah, and I think I have something next weekend too, but I just can't remember what it is."

"The meet in Fort Worth," she said.

"Oh yeah. That was it, but I don't think Coach will ask me to go on one of those again."

"Why not?" Caitlyn asked.

"Well think about it, Cait. The guys put him up to asking me the first time. They won't do that again."

Caitlyn was waiting when I came out of the locker room. "Coach wants to talk to you," she said with a smile and walked away.

I leaned into Coach's office, and he glanced up at me from under his bushy eyebrows. "I need you to go with us to the meet next weekend," he said. "I'll pay you the same as last time."

"Are you sure you want to do that, Coach?" I asked.

"Do I look like I'm not sure?" he asked with a frown.

. . . . .

Students were out on dorm ramps and walking between buildings when I left my dorm room in tan pants and my dark brown sports coat. I wore a dress shirt and tie. I used the same hair gel Michael used for his "wet" look, and was pleased with the effect. I preferred to think that the stares I was getting were because I looked cool; not that people wondered what I was up to.

I wanted to make it fun for Lenny. Dressing up, and treating his "fancy" meal as a date, struck me as something he'd probably like.

I knocked a second time at Lenny's door and was answered by a wail. "Sean!" Lenny's frustrated voice called from inside, "you're early!"

"Not that early," I called through the door. "It's like five minutes early."

"Babe," Lenny's approaching voice called back. "That is early. Where do you think you live, anyway? This is South Texas." He opened the door far enough to lean his head out, a towel wrapped over his hair. When he saw me, his eyes went wide. "Look at you, Baby!"

He stepped back, opening the door, and let me inside. Lenny wore his long-sleeved robe and house slippers in addition to the towel-turban.

"You said it would be a fancy dinner," I reminded him and handed him the rose.

He smiled, and kissed my cheek. "It will be now. I'll be back in a few minutes. Stay pretty."

"May I put a cassette on your player?" I asked, nodding toward the stereo setup in the living room.

"It's Michael's, but that's fine," he said as he headed back to his room.

I took the cassette of Opera songs and arias from my jacket and put it into the deck, started it, set it on auto-rewind/continuous play, and set the volume low. Lenny had set up a card table in the middle of the room and covered it with a white linen tablecloth. He had set it for two, not across from each other, but adjacent.

The couch looked inviting; and I hadn't slept enough. But sprawling on the couch would not qualify as "staying pretty." Instead, I sat at the end and laid my head back. And fell asleep.

But I heard the door to Lenny's room when it opened, and I quickly stood up from the couch. Lenny came out in fine black dress pants and a long-sleeved, blousy shirt of white silk, unbuttoned down to his sternum. A thick necklace of silver links lay high up on his throat and highlighted the copper tones of his skin. His shoes were black patent leather. His hair was pulled back on the sides and fell straight down to his collar. He had lightly applied makeup, mainly to highlight his large, light gray eyes and his high cheekbones, and in each ear was a diamond (or what looked like a diamond) stud.

He watched me expectantly and I nodded my enthusiastic approval. "Breathtaking," I said and walked slowly to him. I took his hand in mine and raised it to my lips. "You're beautiful, Lenny... incredibly beautiful."

He smiled, and then led me by the hand to the table. "You sit," he said. "I'll serve."

Lenny started to turn for the kitchen, but I held his hand. "First," I asked, "may I kiss you?" It might seem funny to ask Lenny's permission to kiss him after having sex together, but it fitted the mood.

He came back to me, stepping close, watching my eyes. I took him gently into my arms. He wore fine cologne, and it filled my nostrils. His cheek was soft against mine. I gave him a gentle squeeze, and then kissed him lightly on the lips. Our lips lingered softly on each other. But then, before it could turn into something else, I smiled and patted his butt. "I'm hungry," I said.

He grinned, and headed for the kitchen.

"Do you need any help?" I asked.

He came right back out and shoved a box of matches into my hand. "Light the candles and turn off some lights," he said.

Before I was done with that, he returned with a pitcher of ice water. "Pour this into the tumblers," he said. "Then sit down."

A few moments later, he brought out Caesar salads. The aroma of butter, garlic and fish followed him from the kitchen. He set the salads down, went back to the kitchen, and returned with a chilled bottle of wine and a corkscrew. "Rhine wine," he said. "Do you like it?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't had much wine."

"I think you'll like it," he said, cutting off the top wrap from the bottle. Then he twisted in the corkscrew and pulled out the cork, expertly. He lifted my wine glass and poured in a small amount of the clear, watery liquid. "Taste it," he said. "When they open a bottle of wine at a restaurant, they always pour a little into the host's glass for him to taste. If he approves, the rest of the table is served and then his glass is filled. You're the host." He winked.

I took a sip. The wine was richly aromatic; the taste complex, and only faintly sweet. "I like it," I said.

He smiled, poured his glass, then filled mine, and then sat down at the table beside me. "Now taste your salad," he said, encouragingly.

Having had Caesar salad before, I thought I knew what to expect. But Lenny's had a clearer, crisper flavor than what I was used to. "This is good!" I told him.

He smiled again, pleased.

"How do you know so much about wines?" I asked.

"From a sugar daddy I once had," he said nonchalantly, before taking a bite.

"What's a sugar daddy?"

He covered his mouth with the flat of his hand in a scandalized gesture and pitched his voice higher; this time, not switching to a falsetto, but rather, to a voice that could be quite seriously either a man's or a woman's. "You sweet, innocent boy. You don't know what a sugar daddy is?"

I shook my head.

"Why every boy should have a sugar daddy!" he continued in his campy style. "A sugar daddy is a rich, older queen who takes care of you."

"Sort of like a guy keeps a mistress?" I asked.

Lenny nodded thoughtfully, and his voice returned to normal. "Yeah, baby, exactly like a mistress."

"So you had a sugar daddy?"

Lenny nodded and his eyes dropped to his salad. "Sean," he said quietly. "Maybe I should tell you the truth about me." He glanced up at me nervously.

I set down my fork and rubbed his bicep through his silk sleeve, encouragingly.

His brow creased. "Sean," he said, dropping his eyes again. "I used to hustle. Do you know what that means?"

"Sure," I said. "The first night I was here, Michael told me that you used to do that."

Lenny frowned. "He did?"

I squeezed his arm. "Sure. It's no big deal."

Lenny considered that. "So you've known all along?"

"Yep."

Lenny smiled, and then frowned again. "But I don't do that any more."

I picked up my fork again. "Did you feel bad doing it?" I asked.

He paused, holding his fork thoughtfully. "Sometimes, yeah. Real bad. Sometimes it was fun." He glanced at me with a smile. "I like sex."

"No? You?" I said with a grin.

Lenny laughed and took a bite of salad. "Some clients were fun, and it wasn't always the cute ones. Usually, I liked it. But sometimes the guys were like, rough, or big, or smelly. They paid me a lot, but it wasn't always worth it."

"So you charged a lot?"

Lenny winked at me. "I'm good baby. You ain't seen nothin' yet. Maybe I'll show you some things."

"What things?" I asked, wriggling my eyebrows.

Lenny grinned. "I had one thing I did, a technique... oh, well. That one, I'd have to show you."

"Maybe I'll show you some things," I suggested.

"Baby, you already have," he said, patting my forearm. "You're a good lover."

I grinned, widely. Somehow, that compliment, coming so easily and frankly from Lenny of all people, inflated my ego instantly. Feeling warm all over, I took another bite. Lenny did the same.

"So was one of those guys you did – you know, the guys you did for money – was one of them your sugar daddy?" I asked, before taking another bite.

"No," Lenny said, chewing. "I met him through a friend."

"Was he a rich, old guy?"

"Oh, Jack was rich," Lenny said. "And older. That was three years ago, and he was forty-three; I was eighteen."

"Geez, how old were you when you started hustling?" I asked.

"The first time somebody paid me for it?" he asked thoughtfully. "When I was fifteen."

"Wow, that's young. Did you do it much?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I was doing it a lot by the time I met Jack. I'd gotten connected with a guy who advertised in the Advocate. He had clients all over the country. I even got paid to fly to Vegas once; for a whole week." He paused a moment, poking his fork at a crouton. "As long as I'm being honest, I ought to tell you, I did a couple of porn shoots in Houston."

"Really?" I asked. "I've wondered before what that'd be like."

He smiled, surprised. "You aren't turned off?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I really have wondered about it. Sometime I'll have to show you some pictures that Dan, Ry, and I took."

"Oh?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. Then he leaned my way. "Show me your pictures and I'll show you mine."

"Deal," I said with a smile. I was really tempted to ask to see his pictures right then, but that would have spoiled the mood, and that, I surely didn't want to do. "And Jack?" I asked. "How long was he your sugar daddy?"

"Almost two years," Lenny said, chewing.

"So did he teach you all about wines and things?"

"He used to take me out to restaurants a lot. And sometimes to the movies or the theater if it was in Austin where he wasn't likely to run in to anyone he knew. I traveled with him to Dallas and Houston a few times. Most of the time, though, he just came over here." He smiled. "When we went out, I often went in drag. He liked it that way. I think he thought that he looked better on a date with a cute girl rather than a dark complexioned boy."

"Was he nice?" I asked.

Lenny nodded. "Jack was nice. And he cared about me. After a while, he made me stop hustling. He even got me a tutor and made me get my GED." He glanced down. "I did do a porn shoot after that which I didn't tell him about, but that was mainly for fun."

"Jack sounds nice. Was he cute?"

"Yeah, he was really nice looking. Some older queens keep themselves in good shape."

"Were you two in love?"

"Jack wasn't," Lenny said with a lopsided smile. "I fell in love with him, but he didn't fall in love with me. I think that's partly what chased him off, to tell you the truth."

"He left you," I asked.

"That isn't exactly how I would put it," Lenny said, pausing with his fork half way to his mouth. "I left him; he paid me to leave him."

"Paid you?"

Lenny finished taking his bite before answering. "He paid me, Baby. He was a nice guy, and I guess that's why he did it; he didn't want to just shove me out the door."

We finished our salads and Lenny left for the kitchen. It was a few moments before he returned with broiled trout, boiled new potatoes, and Italian bread.

I tried each, and complimented him on each. The trout and potatoes were delicious.

He poured us more wine.

"Do you mind talking about all that, Lenny?" I asked. "You, know; hustling and having a sugar daddy."

"No," Lenny said, shaking his head. "As a matter of fact, I was thinking of being your sugar daddy."

I roared. "Like hell you are."

Lenny smiled and stroked my cheek. "I'm twenty-one and you're only eighteen."

"But you aren't rich," I said with a grin.

"I'm richer than you, I think," Lenny smiled back.

"Well you got that right." I cocked my head, studying him. "Just how much did your sugar daddy pay you?"

Lenny laughed. "No, I'm not rich if that's what you mean. Jack let me keep the Pinto he had given me to drive."

"And this house?" I asked.

Lenny laughed. "Not hardly. The house was my grandma's. My dad died when I was little and I lived with her for a while. When she died, she left me the house."

"Did Michael say you have brothers?" I asked.

"Half-brothers," he said. "My mom lives in town and I see her sometimes. My brothers are all kids. The oldest is twelve." He looked around the room. "It was my dad's mom who left me the house. I've changed it."

"So did Jack give you anything else beside the Pinto? You said he paid you."

Lenny nodded. "He knew how I wanted a greenhouse, so he had his workers build it – he's in construction. In fact, he's the one who put mirrors on the ceiling and wall in my old room." Lenny grinned. "He sure loved those... oh, and Jack let me keep a little bank account he had set up for me. He really was a great guy."

"He was stupid," I said. "He should have never let you go."

"He was married," Lenny said. "And his wife was starting to get super suspicious at the very same time I was wanting more time with him. Jack just couldn't handle all the entanglements."

"Lenny," I said, drawing a finger along the line of his jaw. "He was stupid. Getting entangled with you would be an answer to any gay guy's dream."

Lenny smiled and looked down at his plate.

"Well," I quickly added. "I mean any gay guy who didn't already have a boy friend... a lover that is." I floundered.

Lenny continued to smile down at his plate, and it occurred to me that my treating our supper like a date may have led Lenny on.

"Oh shit, Lenny," I said, sadly. "Maybe I shouldn't have come. I mean, you're an incredible guy, and I really, really like you. Why if I didn't have Daniel, I'd... it'd be different."

Lenny shook his head, and patted my forearm. "Let's not spoil this evening," he said. "We like each other, Baby. You feel it. I feel it. You've been honest; I've known all along that you had a boyfriend. We've been having fun, haven't we? I'd like to keep going, if you would."

I nodded. "Yeah, I'd like to keep going."

Lenny stood up from the table and came around behind me, wrapping his arms over my shoulders and leaning close to put his lips at my ear. "How do you feel about Crème Brûlée, Baby?"

"What is it?"

"Dessert," he said, and kissed my ear. "Do you like coffee? I made some."

"Sure."

He brought two custard bowls to the table, one for each of us. Then he returned with two cups of coffee. "I like your music," he said, sitting down. "It's opera, right?"

"From opera, yeah. You really like it?"

Lenny nodded, picking up his spoon.

"Linda almost seduced me with this tape," I said with a grin.

Lenny cocked an eyebrow. "So you're playing it for me?"

"Yeah," I said with a sly smile.

I took a bite of the Crème Brûlée. See above. "Oh, shit, Lenny. This is good. This is very good."

He smiled, satisfied. "It's my favorite dessert," he said.

I took off my jacket, and we cleared the table; moving the dishes to the kitchen, putting away the food, and corking the wine. I insisted on rinsing the dishes myself to save his silk shirt. We folded the tablecloth and collapsed the table. Then while Lenny put the table into the closet, I turned up the volume on the stereo. A tenor was singing something in Italian. I knew nothing of Italian but the song had to be romantic because the singer was pouring his heart into it.

When Lenny returned to the middle of the room from the closet, I met him there. I took him into my arms, wrapping them low, behind his waist. "Care to dance?" I asked, swaying my body gently against his in time to the music.

Lenny laid his hands lightly on the sides of my neck and rested his arms on my shoulders. He smiled briefly before laying his head on the back of his hand and nuzzling into the nape of my neck. Holding Lenny was unlike holding anyone else. His body was hard and male, and yet yielding and feminine. I found both exciting.

The fragrance of his hair was heady, and it felt silky soft under my cheek. I led, and he followed, his body draped on mine, never missing a step, never faltering.

We grew hard against each other. Inclining my head, I kissed under his ear, and felt his lips in the hollow of my neck. We danced on through two more arias.

Then he took me by the hand, turned off the stereo, and then turned off all but one lamp in the living room. He led me back to his room, his own room.

Only a small lamp was lit in the corner. He closed the door, and then releasing my hand, he turned to a small stereo setup atop low bookshelves against the wall. "My stereo," he said, smiling. Selecting one of his two-dozen LPs, he winked as he pulled out the vinyl record and placed it onto the turntable. I took the record jacket from him and looked it over. Latin Rhythms, it said, and the music began with a full orchestra, and a South American beat.

He returned to my arms and we began to dance again, but this time, his lips found mine and as we moved together, his hands roamed my back and I felt over his ass, feeling the outlines of his muscles through his dress pants.

The kiss deepened and Lenny ran his fingers into the back of my hair. I pulled first one comb and then the other from his hair, and Lenny shook his head slightly, first this way, and then that, shaking his hair loose. I fanned it out on both sides with my fingers, and then held our foreheads together as he loosened and removed my tie, and then unbuttoned my shirt.

While I held the sides of his head and kissed slowly and softly over his forehead and temples, he laid my shirt open and fingered my black, jade necklace. He kissed across my chest, and when his mouth reached my left nipple, he licked it several times and then sucked.

With a moan, I leaned my forehead on the top of his head, and unbuttoned his soft, silk shirt, pulling it from his waist. Slipping my hands inside, I lifted him upright with a hand under each arm and then took my turn, kissing over his chest, over his pecs. I slid his shirt off his shoulders while sucking each of his nipples until it came up hard. His shirt dropped to the floor.

I held his sides firmly in my hands and drew my tongue slowly down the mid-line of his stomach, while he rested his hands on my shoulders. I knelt, and holding his sides tightly, I kissed firmly, right above his navel. Then I unfastened his pants, unzipped them, and slid them off his hips, following them down with my hands.

His long erection jutted out to the side of his briefs. I pulled down the elastic waistband and ran my tongue along the side of it, cupping his balls through cloth. He held the sides of my head and groaned; and I filled my nostrils with his scent. It aroused me. I buried my nose into his briefs and shook my head against him. His belly tightened hard. He moaned, clutching my head more tightly.

Reaching behind his knee, I lifted his foot and removed his shoe and then his sock. Then did the other foot, slipping his pants all the way off at the same time. Still kneeling in front of him, I pulled his briefs down, and when his cock sprang free, I let it bounce against my cheek; thick, heavy, and warm. I nuzzled under it, licking its base, right at the top of his balls. He shuddered.

Pulling his briefs all the way down, and then off, I held his long cock straight up, flat against his belly, and licked slowly up the underside of his shaft. I lifted his balls on my fingertips and licked over them. Then I took his beautiful, thick cock, and pointed it at my face. There was a large bead of precum in the slit. I licked it. Then I licked his crown, once, twice, and sucked him down my throat.

His knees buckled slightly and he caught himself. He grabbed under my arms, pulling me up to my feet. "Baby," he whispered. "Don't make me come so soon."

He buried his mouth in my neck and slipped my dress shirt off my shoulders. And then, still sucking just above my necklace, he unfastened my pants and slid his hand into my briefs, lifting my cock up and out.

I stepped out of my shoes and Lenny knelt on one knee to remove my socks and pants. His hands slid down my sides, pulling down my briefs, and he kissed my belly, just above my pubes as I stepped from them. Then he stood and backed me to the bed.

I climbed up on it, onto my back, and Lenny came up over me, laying his body on mine. I felt the tip of his tongue lightly touch under my ear. He dragged it slowly; very, very slowly, under my jaw and followed my jaw line out to the tip of my chin. Then he did the same from the other side taking a whole minute to do one side. He moved so slowly, that it focused my attention on the spot where his tongue touched me. My nerves under his tongue and ahead of its path became more and more sensitive in anticipation.

I rested my hands on the hard muscles of his back, and his hard body and cock rested on mine. But other than our bellies heaving together with our breathing, his tongue was all that moved and it increasingly demanded my attention. He drew it slowly, very slowly down from my chin to the hollow of my throat.

Slowly, Lenny slid down on the bed, his tongue tracing a tendon in my neck down to my collarbone, and then from my collarbone over my right pec. He took my right nipple into his mouth. And he stayed there, sucking gently and running his tongue round my areole slowly. He did it until I began to squirm. He did it until I was ready to push him off because I couldn't take it anymore. And then he switched to my left nipple, and did the same. When I began to squirm again, he buried his face in the middle of my belly and sucked my skin. He held his mouth there, forming a vacuum on my belly, and tickled with his tongue. Then he moved his mouth down an inch and took another mouthful and tickled again.

His weight rested between my legs, pressing against my balls and cock, and he held me by my butt as he sucked and teased down my belly, working mouthful by mouthful. I gripped his shoulders and sucked in my gut more and more until it felt like I'd sucked it all the way back to my spine. When he reached my pubes, he skipped over them and scooted farther down the bed.

He held my knees apart, exposing me. I felt cool air on my cock and balls, and I wanted him to touch me. I closed my eyes and felt him slowly blow a light trail of warm breath up the inside of my left thigh, just breath, warm and electric. He did the same up the inside of my right thigh. I reached for my cock, but Lenny pushed my hand away. I complied. I liked what he was doing, so I simply grabbed the bed covers on either side and held on.

His wet tongue touched the inside of my right knee. And then it traveled slowly up the inside of my thigh, following the same path that he had taken with his breath. He moved so slowly that the movement was almost imperceptible, and yet it was enough to hold all my attention. My leg quivered and the nerves of my skin grew ultra-sensitive ahead of his tongue. At my balls, he stopped, and did the inside of my left thigh.

I wanted to grab my cock and balls. Even more, I wanted him to, and I moaned with desire. But just as his tongue approached my balls, he knelt up.

He lifted my legs, and I pulled my knees up, holding them wide, exposing myself hungrily for whatever he wanted to do next. Anything he wanted to do; just as long as he didn't stop.

He stroked his hands lightly over my butt, then bent over and blew lightly across my bottom, and then over my balls and very slowly up my shaft. He bent even lower and I felt his tongue in my crack, and I arched back. Lightly, slowly, he traced with the tip of his tongue up and then down my crack, pressing at my opening. He skipped up to my balls, lifting first one ball, then the other with his tongue.

He moved up on his knees, lifting my butt with both hands, lifting it toward his face as if lifting a tray. He blew again on my balls. My scrotum tingled, rolled my balls within, and tightened way up. My gut clenched and my body shuddered. My cock felt ready to burst right out of its skin. And I was acutely aware that there was one spot he had not yet touched; one spot he had circled closer and closer to; one spot he hadn't even blown on – my perineum. It felt thick, hard, and aching with desire, and more than anything, I wanted him to touch me there.

I heard him breathe in deeply through his nostrils. He lifted my butt an inch higher, and then blew a long, steady stream of warm breath exactly where my desire had become focused; right on my perineum. My belly heaved, I arched my back and I cried out, clutching the sheets; and blasted cum up my belly and chest, all the way up to my face.

I hadn't touched myself. And Lenny had done nothing at the end, but blow. But it was a powerful orgasm, and my whole body tensed with every deep pulse.

Finally, slowly, I relaxed and my breathing began to return to normal.

Lenny moved up alongside me, and now he touched me. He laid his open hand between my legs, fondling my balls with his fingertips and rubbing the underside of my still hard cock with the heel of his hand. He licked my cum from my face and then covered my mouth with his.

I shuddered again. My whole body felt sensitive, and still wanting; Lenny had no trouble keeping me hard. He wiped cum from my belly with his hand and spread it on my cock. He wiped up all my cum, a swipe at a time, and lubed my cock with it.

Then he rolled onto me, straddling me, and backed his butt up to my cock. He held it tightly in his hand and backed on to it. My crown was still sensitive, and I clutched the sheets once again as it slid past his tightness and entered his warmth.

He took me in and started to rock; and I grabbed his butt, arching under him, thrusting to meet the rocking of his hips. He rubbed his cock on my belly and bent to kiss me again, hungrily. I slid my hands up his hard back and onto his tight shoulders, moving with him.

My body racked with sensations, my gut clenched and wouldn't unclench. I wanted him; I wanted on top.

Holding the back of his shoulders tightly, I muscled us over, staying inside him, until I had Lenny on his back. Pinning his wrists to either side of his head, I lay down on him. He hooked his heels behind my legs, and I pressed my belly to his. And then we made circles with our hips, pressing me in, rubbing my belly on his cock. And I kept his mouth covered with mine.

. . . . .

He kissed my chest and snuggled on to me, pulling the covers higher. He nuzzled into my neck, laying on me so that his leg lay between mine, his hip pleasantly resting on my cock, and his cock resting pleasantly on my hip. He wrapped an arm over my chest and the other under my shoulder and behind my neck, and he sighed.

I kissed the top of his head, taking a whiff again of his hair.

"I'm glad," he said, "really glad you're boyfriend lives in Austin."

"I'm really glad you live here," I said, stroking his strong back lightly. And it occurred to me that it had happened again. I had felt love when I made love; but this time, much, much more than normal.

Lenny lifted his head, looking into my eyes; searching my eyes. I smiled sadly. He smiled the same way.

"I'm sorry," I said.

He kissed my chest. "Don't be sorry."

I squeezed him with an arm around his back. "You could be my San Antonio boyfriend; my weekday lover," I suggested. "Until you get a fulltime boyfriend or I move to Austin."

He sighed and his breath flowed over my chest.

I continued stroking his back.

"What about Mikey?" he asked.

"You don't want me to concentrate on you?" I asked.

He lifted his head again, looking down into my eyes. "Yes," he said quietly. "I do." Then he laid his head back down on my shoulder. "It just doesn't seem right though. Mikey found you. He's got a hell of a crush on you – you know that. I don't want him to get hurt, Baby."

I smiled and nuzzled the top of his head. "You really like him, don't you?"

He nodded.

"We just have to find him a boyfriend," I suggested.

"Are you kidding? I was amazed he had the guts to bring you home. It's been ages since he's been out on a date."

"So what do we do?" I asked.

"For now? Take care of him, too."

"Lenny! You may be, but I'm not a sex machine."

He chuckled. "Yeah, Baby. You are."

"But this is crazy."

"Why? You've been doing both of us. Some guys would like having so many lovers." He lifted his head once more. "He was already disappointed that you and I were having supper tonight without him. Why don't you just take him out tomorrow night?"

"I can't do that. I've got studies to do."

"Bring a pizza. Study here. I'll go out with friends." He twirled a finger in my hair. "Why, if you only made it with me, we might fall in love and you don't want that, now, do you?" he said with an impish grin.

I didn't know how to answer.

His grin faded, and he slowly lowered his lips to mine.

. . . . .

"I'll bring a pizza," I told Michael. "But you have to let me study."

"Sure," Michael said, half-heartedly.

I was glad that Daniel and I had decided to make it no sex after Thursday instead of Wednesday. If I needed to make love with Michael tonight, I could. And honestly, I might like that, even after so much sex with Lenny. I may not have felt for Michael what I was beginning to feel for Lenny, but I did like him.

I had made love with him more than once, and yeah, I felt more than a bit of affection for him. Sex with Michael was good, and the more I thought about making love with him again, as I was preparing to go to their house, the more 'in the mood' I became. Maybe I could keep doing both of them.

Ah, the responsibilities of maintaining a harem, I thought to myself with a smile. I'd have to tell Aaron about this week sometime.

But after tonight, even my libido would need recovery time before the weekend.

. . . . .

Michael answered the door and smiled when I handed him a long-stemmed yellow rose. I followed him inside with the pizza and my book bag. Michael stood beside me when I set them down, and without asking first, I gave him a hug; a good one. I wrapped my arms around him. He was stiff at first, but when he began to relax, I made the embrace more intimate, kissing his neck and rocking him in my arms. He melted.

Lenny found us hugging when he came from his room. He was in drag, and it took me a second to switch mental gears, reconciling the attractive girl in front of me with my lover of the night before. He grinned and patted my butt as I held Michael. "Do you mind?" he asked leaning close. "Do you mind that I like dressing in drag?"

I smiled. "I'm just thinking that I want to make love to you, dressed that way, sometime."

"Woo hoo!" he howled, and rubbed my butt.

"You guys ready for pizza?" I asked, relaxing in my embrace of Michael.

"I have to go, Baby," Lenny said. "Ya'll enjoy."

"Oh," he said, stopping at the door. "Tell him our idea, Mikey." And then he left.

"What idea?" I asked.

Michael stepped back into my arms, laying his hands gently on my shoulders. "We just thought you ought to keep some of your clothes and a toothbrush over here so that anytime you want to sleep over, you'll be all set up."

He pressed his loins to mine and I felt his hardness.

"Am I forgiven then," I said, "for having supper with Lenny last night?"

Michael smiled up at me. "No. You have to make up for it." He drew a finger along my jaw line. "Could we make love before pizza?" he asked. "I've been thinking about it ever since you called."

"What pizza?" I asked.

He threw his head back to laugh, and I buried my mouth in his neck.

. . . . .

The room was bright when I woke; too bright. I was spooned to Michael's back; my left arm under his head and my right over his side. My morning wood pressed pleasantly against his soft butt. But it had to be late and my watch was on the arm under his head. I glanced up at the mirror to see if his eyes were open; to see if he might be awake.

We were nested in the middle of the bed, the covers down to our waists. If I weren't late, and if I hadn't promised Daniel that there'd be no sex after Thursday, I would have watched in the mirror and rubbed on Michael till he woke.

Carefully, I pulled my arm from under his head and rolled to my back, checking my watch. It was too late to make my first class. Shit! Now I'd have to catch up.

Above, in the mirror, my reflection frowned down at me. I pulled the sheet down from my waist, exposing my erection. And I admired myself, drawing my fingers up my belly, alongside my cock. I might not always feel as though I looked hot, but I always admired my reflection. I guess most guys do.

Lenny was sitting at the kitchen table in cutoffs when I went in for a glass of water before leaving. On the table in front of him were three, open books on landscaping, along with a cup of coffee and a small plate with toast.

"Morning, Babe," he said. "Did you take care of Mikey?"

Stepping behind him, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and kissed the side of his cheek. "Mikey took care of me," I said. "I'm making a sex machine out of him. We did it twice."

"Woo hoo!" Lenny hooted, patting my forearms. "Twice!"

"Don't be a smart ass," I said, nuzzling behind his ear. "After what you put me through this week, I was good to come once."

"Like I'd believe that," he said.

"May I have some coffee?" I asked, releasing him and heading for the pot on the counter.

"Sure, Baby. Fill mine again too," he said, holding his cup up.

I brought the pot and a cup for myself to the table. "What's with the books?" I asked.

"I'm getting ready to bid on a landscaping job," he said. "One of my customers, a restaurant owner, is building a house on a hill north of town. He got a couple of landscaping bids and flipped out. So he asked if I wanted to bid on it."

"Is that something you want to get into?" I asked, taking a piece of his toast.

"Oh, yeah. Big time. I really want this. If I do a good job, it could get me others."

"Have you done anything like it before?" I asked.

"Just yard work," he said with a smile. "And my plants. But I can do it. I'm always looking at yards and I know what's good and what isn't. And I know plants. What I don't know, I can learn."

"I bet you can," I said.

"I've got to get some grid paper," he said. "And some plastic landscaping templates. Want to go with me?"

"No," I said, shaking my head and looking again at my watch. "I've got to get to school. I've already missed my first class."

I stood and Lenny stood with me, stepping close for a hug. "Shit, Lenny," I said, wrapping my arms around his hard, bare shoulders as he pulled me close by the waist. "You're going to get me hot again and I have to get to class."

He laughed lightly and gave me a peck. "Save it for your big weekend."

"Oh, that reminds me," I said, rocking him comfortably in my arms, our crotches pressed pleasantly together. "Could I get you to buy a bottle or two of wine for me to take up there? I'd need it like, late tomorrow morning."

"Champagne," he said, pressing his cheek to mine. "You need champagne; two bottles. Bring an ice chest with ice by here tomorrow when you're leaving town. I'll have them for you."

"Here," I said, backing from him and pulling out my wallet. "I'll give you the money for them." I had a twenty and a five. I removed the twenty and handed it to him. "Will this do it?"

He smiled. "Maybe. If not, your sugar daddy might help out."

I had a warm feeling as I left Lenny's and Michael's that morning. But the feeling soon tempered as I tried to reconcile their place in my life, a life that I was pledging to Daniel, forever. I liked them both and I loved the refuge of their house. I could see myself spending a lot of time there while at Trinity. I just wasn't sure how to fit them in to my life without taking away some part of what already belonged to Daniel.

My friend and editor Michael and I share an email address, btomandback@hotmail.com. We both really enjoy hearing from readers.
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