NOTE TO READERS: Chapters 25 & 26 have been deleted. I didn’t like where they were taking Bruce. We pick up here with Bruce having decided he couldn’t keep living with the other three people in the company-owned apartment. Returning to the Gaiety bar, he ran into Greg and Chuck, and they convinced him to move in with them for a while, until he figured out what he wanted to do.
Greg and Chuck (I still had not learned their last names) lived a few blocks from The Gaiety. They occupied one-half of a two-bedroom duplex in a nice condo community with a great view of Lake Washington.
In no time, the three of us had moved all my belongings into their guest room. It was a smallish room, but it looked out on the lake and had a private bathroom. I was grateful for the view and the privacy. I had kind of been in shock since I walked in the corporate apartment and found that I had three weird strangers for roommates, and I only regretted it all the more after the first night I had spent with them.
The guys left me alone while I settled in. I still didn’t open many of the packed boxes, because they contained books and things I would not need or want until I moved into a place of my own. When everything was in place, I came down to the back patio where they were sitting.
“I just want to tell you how grateful. . .” I began.
Greg jumped in, “No need to thank us, Bruce. We’re just glad that you don’t still think we were part of that bullshit.”
“No, I can see that now.”
Chuck inquired, “Something to drink?” I grimaced, and he added, “iced tea or mineral water?”
I agreed to mineral water, and he went into the house to get it. Greg indicated a lawn chair between theirs. I stretched out and relaxed a bit.
“You probably feel like you’ve landed in a nest of rattlesnakes!” Greg observed.
“No shit. I never expected anything like this—not in a lifetime.”
“Well, please don’t assume that this is how the nice people at Worldwide Aero always act. We’re not like that at all, believe me, as I hope you’ll soon find out.”
“I’ll show up for orientation tomorrow at 9 AM, so I hope that will be the beginning of the healing.”
“Well, I hope this is the beginning,” Chuck said, returning with my water.
“I do, too. I misspoke,” I apologized.
“Don’t sweat it,” Greg said, “you have had the most unpleasant welcome we can imagine, and we’re still shocked at the behavior of those two assholes.”
“Do you think you ought to report it to Human Resources tomorrow?” Chuck asked with concern.
“What good would it do? We were all adults. I was drunk, but I didn’t refuse either of them. I was just stupid or fucked-up or something.”
They both shook their heads. Then Chuck looked up and smiled, “A wise person once said ‘the best revenge is living well’. I hope you can do that.”
I raised my glass and saluted the two of them. “Here’s hoping!”
The guys ordered Chinese delivery for dinner and refused to let me pay my share. “You can treat us the next time,” Chuck assured me. We all stuck to non-alcoholic beverages. Exhausted by the emotional roller coaster, I excused myself and went to bed at 9 PM, setting my alarm for six, so I could jog before work. I wanted to get every last drop of the booze out of my system, and I hoped I could also get quit of the humiliation, anger, and self-disgust that I felt.
Feeling more or less renewed after a five-mile run and a hot shower, I joined Greg and Chuck at the breakfast table for some cereal, yogurt, and OJ. The three of us had decided we could drive to work together, and since I didn’t have a parking pass yet, Greg was elected to be chauffeur.
My orientation day went well. I signed up for payroll, health insurance, parking, and went through the obligatory health and safety training. Near the end of the day, there was one more seminar. When I read the name of it, I shivered: Sexual Harassment.
The presenter was a woman no more than five feet tall, around 50, with gray hair and the kindly aura of a grandmother. She was matter-of-fact.
“Sexual harassment is any behavior that is sexual or sensual in nature, that is unwelcome, and that may or may not do actual physical, emotional, or spiritual harm.”
I felt like she was talking directly to me. After that, I kind of tuned out the lecture. I already knew what she was talking about, and I couldn’t in all honesty claim that I was a victim.
“Wow! That sounds a little too close for comfort on your first day at WWA,” Chuck exclaimed as I told him and Greg about my first day. I had caught on early the day that employees referred to Worldwide Aero by the three-letter acronym.
“Well, it’s not their fault. I guess it’s an important topic, and they want all employees to be on notice right from the start. It was no big deal for me.”
Chuck and Greg exchanged glances but didn’t say anything more. I just wanted to move on, and they sensed that. We changed the subject and enjoyed the ride home. Greg cooked out on the grill, and we had some excellent fresh-caught fish, along with roasted potatoes and a big salad.
As the week went on, the three of us seemed to settle into a routine. We went to work together (I started driving because I had a parking pass, and the guys loved to arrive at the office with the top down), came home, made dinner, sat outside to enjoy the evening, and then headed to bed by 10 PM. It was almost domestic!
The house had two bedrooms: the one that I was using that they called “the spare room,” and the master bedroom where they slept together. From the first moment I had moved in, they were never shy about kissing each other or holding hands in front of me. It was obvious that they were a loving couple, and I was almost jealous, remembering what I had felt living with David and then loving Winston. Nobody ever said anything about their relationship—it was just a fact of life in “our” house. Without thinking much about it, I was getting a good, long look at how two gay men shared their lives.
But Friday night, on the way home from work, Chuck said, “Uh, Bruce. If it’s not a problem, we like to go out to dinner on Fridays and then go have some fun at a bar or club.”
“That’s fine with me,” I said.
Greg jumped in, “What Chuck means is that he and I feel like doing this. There’s no pressure on you to join us… unless you want to.”
“Come on, dudes. The last thing you need is a third wheel!”
“Oh, no. You wouldn’t be that. We just weren’t sure if you were ready to…”
“To show up at a bar where I might run into Alison or Freddie?”
Chuck, who was in the front seat, turned to look me in the eye. “Not to put too fine a point on it, fuck yes!”
I laughed. “Well, the only way I’ll know the answer to that is if I go out with you and see what happens.” I paused and thought. “But why don’t we take both cars, just in case anybody wants to cut out early… or gets lucky!” We all laughed and listened to music the rest of the way home.
In my room, I was steeling myself for an ordeal. My hands shook as I picked out clothes to wear that weren’t too sexy, but also not so nerdy that no one would even think of talking to me, let along hitting on me.
Coming down stairs, I was met by approving smiles from both guys. I followed their car across town to a nice-looking restaurant, where we had a quick meal. There was no doubt that they were eager to get to partying, and we only had to drive a block to the club where they were headed for the evening.
The place was a gay bar called ClubFly. There were three or four women, but everyone else was male, ranging from late teens to senior citizens. I don’t know how to explain, but it just felt comfy, safe—like a good place to be.
As we entered, voices called out to Greg and Chuck, who guided me to a long table of their friends, introduced me all around, and found me a seat at one end, so that I wouldn’t be too self-conscious about not knowing anyone.
I don’t know if they were pampering me or what, but I have to say that the evening was pleasant, fun, and pretty sexy. When we got home around 1 AM, Greg and Chuck seemed to be in a bit of a hurry to get to their room and close the door. I knew the feeling—when you’re horny, there’s not a lot of things that slow you down.
I went to my room and closed the door. I was turned on by the heady atmosphere of a room full of hot gay men. I undressed and stretched out on my bed. My cock was already hard, and I began stroking it. My mind wandered to—of all things—the first time I had sex with Craig, back in The Hide at my home in Denver.
We raced up the hill to the cabin, grabbing at each other’s asses and laughing a lot. We burst in the unlocked door, and I lit the propane stove, warming the room. Without another word, we stripped naked, and I lay on my back on the lower bunk. My cock was so hard it was throbbing with every heartbeat. Craig looked at it and grinned with a gleam in his eye.
He climbed onto the bed on his knees, positioned himself over my cock, and lowered his ass onto it. I felt the heat as my hard-on was engulfed inside Craig’s butt. He began to rise and lower himself, riding my cock like a cowboy breaking a horse.
After a long time fucking that way, Craig got off me and knelt on the edge of the bed, offering his ass to my hungry cock again. I entered him and began to fuck him, in and out, faster and slower, deeper and shallower, until I felt my balls begin to signal. He told me to cum inside him, and I quickened my pace and soon unloaded what felt like gallons of semen into his hot ass. I felt his muscles contract around my cock as he came, too.
Just then, I noticed hot liquid hitting my chin and then spurting on my chest, abs, and pubes. I had shot my load at the same time that Craig and I came together in my fantasy.
I lay in bed, naked and sticky, for several minutes. Then I got up and went into my bathroom to clean up with some toilet paper.
When I was finished, I stood for a moment, looking at myself in the mirror. That’s when I heard soft sounds coming through the wall.
The house was designed so that the second story had two bedrooms and two bathrooms. Taking advantage of the water view, the bedrooms were on the same side. A long hall ran down the other side of the house, with windows looking out on the back yard and pool. The bedrooms were at opposite ends of the hall, and the bathrooms, which only had access from the adjoining bedroom, were side-by-side in the middle.
I had never noticed any noise from the other room, which I attributed to a well-built house. But tonight, standing in my shower with my ear close to the wall, I could hear water running and soft laughter, giggles, and moans of pleasure.
For some reason, I was surprised. Sure, I knew that Greg and Chuck were gay, that they shared the same bed, and of course they fucked each other. But I had just never been faced with the audible reality of all that.
To be clear, I was not, and am not, a voyeur or any shit like that. I knew what sex sounded like from having made all the noises myself many times. And I didn’t care what other people did. In fact, I was kind of glad that these two men had each other.
But something about hearing their play in the shower turned me on. In fact, it made me ache to have sex with them! I pressed my ear to the wall and tried to make out all the sounds, all the while jacking my cock for the second time in fifteen minutes.
Sure enough, their love-making got louder, and I could make out words.
“Oh, baby.” “Give it to me!” “Fuck me, Greg!” “Yeah. Like that, Chuck.”
As the sound of their ecstasy reached a crescendo, I shot another giant load across the bathtub, onto the tile wall. My body shook with pleasure and I found myself panting with exhaustion, almost as if I had been in the shower with them.
I heard the water turned off and the sounds of my two hosts moving into their bedroom, so I went back to bed and closed my eyes, falling asleep in no time.
In the morning, I woke up with another raging boner and relieved the pressure in the shower. Before I turned on the water, though, I found myself pressing my ear against the wall to see if anything was going on that I could hear.
After my run, I found Greg and Chuck at the breakfast table, looking at each other with sly grins.
“What’s up?” I asked, smiling.
“Oh, nothing,” Greg said, looked at Chuck and giggling.
“We just. . . well, that is. . .” Chuck tried.
“We hope we didn’t wake you up with our little fun last night.”
I played the innocent. “Wake me up? You gotta be kidding. My head hit the pillow, and I was out like a light. Didn’t open my eyes once until daylight.” I smiled at them again.
“Good.” Greg sounded relieved. “I mean, I’m glad you slept well.”
After a minute or two of silence, I looked up, “So, just what was it that you two were doing that you thought might wake me up?”
They both blushed. It was so cute—two grown men, gay lovers for perhaps years, shy about anyone hearing their moans of sensual delight!
Seeing their discomfort and not wanting to inflict any embarrassment on them, I hurried to add, “I mean, I assume that you two make love, maybe every night, and I know that making love often requires making sounds, so even if I did hear anything, I’d just be glad that you have each other.”
They both sighed, relieved. Chuck looked at me earnestly, “Well, to tell you the truth, we were more concerned about how you might feel, since you don’t have anybody. . . uh, right now.”
My face darkened. “Please don’t worry about my sex life. Right now, that’s the farthest thing from my mind.” I was lying. I had begun to think about sex all the time lately. I guess it was proof that Alison and Freddie had done no lasting damage to my libido, but I wasn’t ready to talk about it.
“Oh, no. Of course not,” Greg spoke for both of them.
I grinned at them naughtily. “Relax, bros. I’m just fucking with you. I’m as horny as the next guy, and, as soon as I can hook up with someone, you just might hear noises coming from my shower.” As soon as I said that, I realized I had gone a step too far.
Raising his eyebrows, Chuck said, “So, you did hear us last night?”
“Well, maybe a little. But only when I was in the bathroom taking a piss.”
They stared at me in silence for a while. Then Greg said, “Well, Bruce, any time you’re ready—and interested—you’re welcome to come over to other side of the wall and join us!”