Heart and Soul Chapter 13
Thank you for continuing with Emory's story. I have appreciated the emails.
13
Heart and Soul
(Two and a Half Years After I Met Don)
Saturday mornings in late June were a gift. It wasn't too warm in the morning, so Don and I could hold each other naked without feeling hot. He had no meetings on Saturdays. It was "our" day with no interruptions or obligations. It was usually a tender time of just holding each other. On occasion, it would progress into sex. If I woke up with a hard-on, it was automatic. Sometimes I would jerk him off as Don always woke up with an erection — infuriatingly so, yet wonderful at the same time. But usually, it was all about being in each other's arms. Simply holding each other was its own mystical weekend holiday.
My cell rang. I could see it was a local number, but it wasn't anyone in my contacts. It wasn't quite yet 9 o'clock.
"Surely, this isn't a spam call this early."
"This is Emory," I answered, my traditional answer to unknown callers. (Never "hello.")
"Hi, Emory. It's Trent."
Oh. My. God.
"Trent Kyriazi," he further explained.
"Right. Yes. Hi."
"I'm so sorry if this is too early. My life is kind of early with the radio program, but I wanted to catch you before you perhaps had a chance to leave the house."
Oh. My. God. Trent Kyriazi called ME.
"As you know, Cooper and I run together from time to time. We just got back from a Las Vegas trip. He told me about your ... meetings."
"Heart and Soul?"
"Right. Yes, that."
"I asked Cooper for your number. I hope that's okay."
Oh. My. God. Trent Kyriazi wanted MY number.
"Sure. That's fine. No problem. Um ... what can I do for you?"
Don looked at me. I mouthed "Trent Kyriazi" while holding my hand over the bottom of the phone. Don's eyes widened. His eyebrows went up.
"Well, I'm actually a little late to the game here. July is almost upon us, and I want to ask if you'd do me a favor."
"What can I do?" I asked, honestly confused.
"We like to have locals from time to time on The Morning Show, and I thought it might be interesting to talk about Heart and Soul next week. I need some interviews, and I'm a bit behind."
I sat up straighter. "Wait. You're not ... you're not asking me to be on the radio, are you?"
Don clutched my wrist.
"Yes. Actually, I am. I want to give some exposure to your efforts. I applaud them."
"Oh. Wow. Um. Yeah, that would probably do the program some good." I was excited and honored and nervous and overwhelmed. "So, do I come down and we record it?"
"Nothing like that. We just talk on the radio."
"Live!??"
"Sure."
"Shit," I said under my breath.
"I don't know if I can do that. I'd be too nervous."
"Don't be. You and I have spoken before. It's just a normal conversation."
I knew it could be good for the program, but ... SHIT!! What if I sounded like a total fool to the whole town?
"Gosh, Trent, I'm honored. Really. I – I – I just don't know. I don't think I'd be good."
"I have confidence in you. And really, it would be a favor. With July 4th that week, people are out of pocket. I need someone on July 1."
"I see."
"Can I count on you?"
"Uhhhh ... sure. Okay."
"Great. My morning producer will call this next week and get you set up for the 1st."
"O – okay."
After we hung up, Don clutched my shoulders. "Are you really going to be on the radio with Trent Kyriazi!!?"
"It would appear so. I guess I have one week to be scared shitless."
—
For a week, I was indeed scared shitless. I worried about sounding like an idiot or an old coot or making the program sound stupid. I was terrified.
"Do you want me to come with you?" Don asked.
"And do what? Be my mommy in the lobby? No thanks. It would be a waste of your time. I'll just attempt not to humiliate myself."
Don kissed me. "You'll do great. Go knock `em dead."
I blew out air. "I hope."
The drive to the station wasn't even fifteen minutes, but I wanted to make sure I wasn't late. As it was, I was twenty minutes early. The person who welcomed me said it was no problem.
I waited outside the studio for a few minutes. The couch in the hallway was comfy, but it could have been made out of pinecones for all my lack of relaxation.
"Don't fuck up," I whispered to myself.
I could hear Trent and Tara from a speaker overhead. He was so good at what he did. He was a natural. Even when we meet up and I know him just a little better, I am still admittedly star struck each time.
"Hi," he said, opening a door. "You're nice and early. Good. How are you feeling?"
"Kind of nervous."
"You'll be fine. It's just the two of us. Nothing more. Talk like we would at any party."
"I'll try."
"Our segment is at 9:10. We'll do a few minutes of news at the top of the hour, and then we'll bring you in on a commercial break just before."
"O-o-okay." My heart was pounding so hard, I knew Trent could hear it. The people in the studio could.
Trent noticed my hand trembling. What if he called it off because I was a lunatic? What if he thought I'd ruin the whole segment and felt it wasn't worth it? He went back in. Tara had been handling the anchor duties while he had talked to me.
"Fuck," I whispered to myself. My knee was bouncing in a crazy jackhammer rhythm.
What if I had a heart attack on the air?
Just a few minutes before 9, he opened the door again and poked his head out. "What do you take in your coffee?"
"Huh?"
"What do you take in your coffee?"
"Uh. Just a packet of sugar."
"Got it," he said before closing the door. I didn't even have a chance to ask why.
The news went on for five minutes. Then I heard my name from the speaker overhead being "tossed" for the upcoming interview "after the break."
A woman came out. "Emory?"
I sat up straight. "Yes?"
"I'm Amy, the assistant producer. You can come with me."
"O – okay."
Fuck. Shit. Damn. Crap.
"You'll sit right here. There is a microphone on the table. It isn't big, but it will pick up your voice. You don't have to talk loudly; just speak normally. You'll wear these headphones. You'll hear my voice until we go live, then it will just be you and Trent."
I nodded, forgetting every word she said.
Just as I put on the headphones, an intern came in with two cups of coffee. He handed one to Trent and then looked at me. "One sugar, right?"
"Yes. Thank you."
"Okay, Emory. No need to be nervous. I want you to pretend you and I are having a cup of coffee at Joe. Okay?"
I nodded and smiled. "Okay."
I took a sip. It was just right. It comforted me.
Amy's voice said "Thirty seconds out" into the headphones. I took another sip as well as a deep breath. I convinced myself that Trent and I were having coffee at Joe. That's all.
"Good morning, again, Jackson Bend," Trent began. "I'm sitting here having coffee with a friend of mine."
The sentence after that went in and out of my brain as I held onto the words that Trent considered me a friend of his. Wow.
"So, Emory, I only know bits and pieces of this Heart and Soul program. What can you tell us about it?"
That was easy.
"Well, it goes back several months. I had a stroke last year and-"
"Goodness. I'm sorry to hear that."
"Thanks. I've made great gains. My recovery has gone well. But, near the end of last year, I went out to a ... a bar. My partner was wanting me ... encouraging me to get out. To put myself out in the real world again. I was glad I did. It was a bit difficult at the time but worth it."
"Difficult ... physically?"
"Yes. And a little bit psychologically. I didn't want anyone to see me that way. I used a walker at that time."
"I see."
"There was a very kind man who was encouraging. We struck up a conversation. In the weeks following, he opened up a little. He was in his 40s and admitted that he had not come out to his family or coworkers ... or anyone. He only felt safe in the gay bar ... you know, to be himself."
"Okay."
"I eventually got the feeling that he felt alone. He felt there was no one to talk to."
"To a lesser degree, I feel that. When I was in college, I couldn't dream about talking to anyone. I was terrified to bring it up. I get that. It took me to my senior year to finally come out."
"Perhaps it is easier for younger folks nowadays. But ... everyone's situation is different. Families are different. Job situations are different."
"I agree. I have a close friend who was kicked out of his home when he was honest with his family. He was 17."
I knew that was Jakob, but I didn't mention his name on the radio. The radio. I had forgotten that I was on the radio. Trent and the coffee had made me calm.
"In time, I asked my friend if having people like him to talk to would be helpful, he said it would, and it made me start thinking."
"So, this ... arrangement ... is the result of your efforts. You spearheaded it, correct?"
"Yes, I suppose."
"So, what happens at these meetings?"
"Well, we've only had two. They are relatively small ... at least right now. More than anything, it's a safe space. People come to listen and to share and be heard. To belong. To be seen. It's completely judgement-free."
"It's not a dating club or anything like that?"
"No. No, nothing like that. I mean, I suppose people could potentially meet someone, but the focus is being able to say what you feel and feel safe about it. Everyone has fears and anxieties. But we're not alone. Nobody. This was created for people — particularly those that come out later in life — to have a place to be heard."
"Are there dues?"
"No. It's free. We meet on the first and third Tuesday evenings of the month. You can find it on the community center website."
"Good." Trent took a sip. "So where did the name Heart and Soul come from?"
"Well ... you."
He was about to take another sip, but his eyes grew wide. "What?"
"Weeks ago, the friend I was speaking of was talking as several of us were having coffee. Your husband had expressed that he was hesitant to come out to coworkers as well, but he encouraged my friend to do so. When Lor- ... when my friend asked how he knew it was the time to do it, he said it was because of you. He loved you with his heart and soul and no longer wanted to hide it or lie about it."
Trent was stunned. "I – I don't know what to say. I had no idea. Truly, I'm gobsmacked."
"We came up with some lousy names, but when he suggested that — that was what he was hoping to find. And it fit. People who are afraid to come out know deep in their heart and their soul that they are gay, and no matter how hard you try to push it away or lie to yourself, they know it to be true."
"I agree. I can relate to that."
"So far, that's the most rewarding thing to me, knowing those who have attended don't have to feel alone anymore."
"Did your friend come out?"
"As a matter of fact, he has. He told his family — which is a work in progress — but his coworkers alleviated his fears. There was no retaliation. He said he has felt some support."
"Good for him."
We heard Amy say "Go to commercial in ten" in our headphones.
"We're going to go to a break here, but when we come back, if anyone has questions for Emory, call in at 226-555-1039. That's on our website as well. We'll be right back."
Wait. What? Amy said, "We're out."
"People are going to call in with questions for me?"
"It's no biggie. Just answer honestly," Trent said. "If you feel stuck, hold up one finger, and I'll jump in and help."
"Okay," I barely said.
"You're doing very well. The segment is going great."
"Thanks."
I drank some coffee. Soon, Amy said, "Ten seconds. We have two calls so far."
Crap.
"Welcome back. We're with Emory Pike, the ... what do you call yourself Emory?" Trent asked.
"I'm not sure if I have a title. Meeting administrator might work."
"We're talking Heart and Soul, a new group meeting at the community center for ..." Trent looked at me. "For gay men who ... come out later in life. Is that a fair way to describe it?"
"Sure. Yes. But all are welcome."
"And we have a caller." Amy told Trent the caller's name was Mark. "Is this Mark?"
"Yes. I'm interested in this whole idea. I was wondering if there is a certain age you have to be?"
"Not really. All our welcome, as I said. The most important thing is if you feel you wish there were others out there to talk to, then ... Heart and Soul is that safe space."
Trent introduced the next caller as Roger.
"I'm – I'm not gay, but a family member is. And ... and our family is having a hard time adjusting to it. Would it be okay if someone like me ... us ... came? It might help to listen."
"I don't see why not. The whole reason is for a judgement-free zone. So, if you can abide by that ... we don't have actual rules, as long as everyone in attendance respects each other and doesn't judge."
"Right. Yeah. Okay. Thanks for your answer."
The next caller was a woman. Her name was Elizabeth.
"Don't you think if someone is questioning their sexuality, that a group like this just encourages them to become gay? Perhaps if they weren't encouraged to be ... they might continue on living as straight."
Yikes. I held up a finger.
"If I can jump in here," Trent said. "You don't continue on as straight. A gay person was never straight. They might have denied their feelings, ignored them, hated themselves for them, but they ... weren't straight. I'm proof of that."
"I agree," I said. "People have gotten married. They deceived their wives, but they try to fake it and pretend. And I applaud them for being faithful to their spouses. I'm not saying they should dissolve the marriage or anything. But ... I know they are struggling. They feel trapped. And I don't say that like marriage is bad or anything like that. It's like a dual life. A close friend went through that. He was tearing himself apart; it was killing him. Sadly, he tried some other things hoping it would be a solution, but it only compounded the problem. Once he admitted the truth, he began to put his life together."
We heard the caller hang up.
I fielded four more questions, then Trent ended the segment. I took off my headphones.
"That was greatness," Tara said, re-entering the studio. "Awesome job. Hi, Emory. I'm Tara."
"I definitely recognize your voice," I said.
"You did a great job. Thank you for coming down."
My head was swirling. I survived and thought it went well too.
Trent walked me to the lobby and hugged me. "I appreciate you. Really, Emory. Great job."
I got to the car and exhaled. I didn't move for an entire minute. I tried to process it all. I had worried for days and days, and then ... it was over. My body had been so overwhelmed, it was almost tingling.
Don welcomed me with an enormous kiss. "You were marvelous, my darling. I'm so proud of you."
"You think it went okay?"
"It was wonderful. You sounded very natural."
"Who knows if anyone listened."
"We might find out tomorrow night."
—
I arrived fifteen minutes before the third Heart and Soul meeting. I noticed a couple of gentlemen in the hall. I wasn't sure if they were there for the meeting or not. I slid the sign in the holder; Cooper joined me a few minutes later.
"I caught you on the radio. Nice job!"
"Thanks. I'm not sure if it will make any difference, but I suppose we can still put out twelve chairs."
The two men in the hall entered. "Are we too early?" one said.
"No. Welcome. We're just setting up."
Cooper started coffee. The two gentlemen saw me take chairs from the closet and offered to help.
We stopped with the twelve chairs in a circle. Within minutes, they were full — to my surprise. All the men who had attended before had returned, along with several others. Cooper and I looked astonished. We grabbed more chairs and made another half circle on the far end of the room.
By 7 o'clock, all twenty chairs were out, and they were filled.
"Holy crap," I muttered to myself.
"This is impressive. Your radio segment really made a difference," Cooper said.
"I'll say."
We both agreed we would be fine standing. Cooper started a second pot of coffee.
At 7:03, I felt it was time to start. A couple more men came in and stood. I apologized that all the chairs had been brought out. Lorenzo grabbed a couple from the hallway. They didn't match, but at least two more men could sit.
"Welcome everyone. I'm Emory. I ... have to admit, I'm ... well, surprised doesn't convey what I feel. Astonished actually."
"If you didn't get coffee, this pot will be done in about two minutes," Cooper announced from the back.
"So ... since our group is so much larger than last month, I'll go over some simple things. First — and the most important thing — Heart and Soul is a safe space. No judgement. No requirements. It's a place where you can listen or share or simply belong," I continued.
I looked at Lorenzo. "Do you want to get us started tonight?"
"Sure." He sat up tall, and then because the group was large, he decided to stand. I wouldn't have asked him to, but it was a good idea. "Hi, I'm Lorenzo. A few people here know me. They know it took me to my 45th birthday to come out to someone as gay. I told my parents. My mother didn't take it well. In fact, we've yet to talk since. But Dad calls me each week. He knew it took courage. I've talked it over with my siblings; they support me. Surprisingly, my biggest worry was work. I expected — because my job involved the education system — that being gay would be an obstacle. Who knew Jackson Bend could be so progressive? It has been very uplifting. One guy told me to be careful, but other than that, everyone has been supportive. I have to thank Emory for getting me to this point."
"Your decisions, your courage," I replied.
Lorenzo sat down. People seemed apprehensive to go next.
"I'll share," Cooper said. "I'm Cooper. I really struggled with coming out. I was in my 30s and married to a woman. Now, I'm stunned it took me so long. When I was younger, I thought every guy looked at other men and compared themselves. If my thoughts lingered too long on someone, I ignored it. Prayed. Gave my wife extra attention. We had a pretty good sex life, I guess.
"As I advanced in my career, I attended a lot of meetings and business dinners. Alcohol was almost always available. I learned to like it. It came easy. Unfortunately, I also found myself drawn to men at these meetings. I can't blame the alcohol for that, but maybe my defenses were diminished. Soon, my longings were out of control. I just wanted to ... be with a man. The more I panicked about it, the more I drank. My marriage fell apart."
Cooper took a moment to catch his breath. Even after all these years, some things still had to hurt.
"I hated hurting my wife. We have a great son, and I am sure the situation turned his world upside down at age 11. I developed feelings for a man at work. He brought me into the gay world, when my old life crumbled. Then ... we didn't last, and I felt totally adrift. I felt I was so old entering gay life that no one would want an inexperienced man like me. Not that my first boyfriend and I ... well, I just felt lost and alone without him. Thankfully, I have found a man whom I know I will love forever. Even though I came out later in life, I am incredibly happy."
Once it was clear that Cooper was finished, a new man stood. "Hi, I'm Norm. I'm 52, and like Cooper, I was married to a woman. Our marriage ended when she found me in bed with my best friend. It's funny, he was just `experimenting.' I'm not sure he would even consider himself gay ... just `open,' if that makes sense. We had fun. We did it twice and she caught us the second time. Our position was ... well, we were in a 69 position. That ended things in a hurry."
Norm looked at me. "Was that okay to say?"
"This is a safe space," I answered.
"Along came divorce. I've been out for six years now. I'm not in a relationship. At first, I was okay with just putting myself out there. The apps helped, once I was brave enough to use them. But then I got off those because I wanted to ... you know, really fall in love. Sex was great, but it wasn't enough for me." He sighed. "So that's where I'm at now."
Another man stood up. "Hi, I'm Aric. I just have to say, this feels SO GOOD to hear others feel what I feel. Thank you for doing this."
I nodded.
"My story isn't as easy. I'm still married to a woman. She knows. I was honest with her ... and she accepted it. She doesn't like sex that often, so she said she was okay with me working out my ... desires, however I needed to. She still wants sex about once a month — and I oblige. She still wants the security of a husband and a household. We have one daughter in college. She doesn't know. So ... I'm out in the sense I have friends with benefits, I guess you call them. But I don't think I will ever be able to be in a relationship like many people here. I'd love it, but I'm going to support my wife, if that is what she wants."
Whoa. That was a tough story, but I was impressed with both Aric and the acceptance of his wife.
The shares continued.
Mac:
"I'm 68. I didn't come out until I was in my 50s. I found a good partner — finally — when I was 59. Well, my body has certainly changed, which I still find quite unsettling and disappointing. My shape and height have changed in the last ten years for sure. I've gone from six-foot-one to about five-foot-eleven. Some other parts seem to have shrunk too, but I won't go into that. Other attributes which I considered some of my best physical points appear to have deserted me too. My hairy arms and legs are almost hairless now, my plush chest hair now faded to gray and thinned out considerably, but hair has appeared in places I don't want it, like ears, nose and shoulders. As with an old building or car, there is a lot more maintenance required now."
People chuckled. A few nodded.
"Luckily, my partner and I find new things to love in each other since our physical relationship has reduced. Kindness and honesty are attractive now. Oh, and the issue of invisibility. It's difficult to describe, but younger people don't seem to notice older people, particularly in the gay community. I suppose this is due to attraction — or rather lack of it. No one under 30 probably wants to think of old people getting it on or being hot. And I do remember this being true of my younger self too — I certainly never tried to talk to anyone in a gay bar over 45."
I wasn't sure I agreed with Mac on that. Lorenzo had spoken to me when I had my stroke, but then again, I wasn't looking for hookups. If so, I'm sure the younger crowd wouldn't have remotely considered me.
Rob:
"My story is the guy who didn't want to abandon ship from his marriage, after accepting and coming out gay. Both my wife and I joined the Mormon Church as teenagers, went on the two-year mission, married in the temple `forever,' raised our kids active in the church ... so, I was `all in' for over four decades. Until I wasn't. The LDS Church came out with a horrible policy against gay members and their families in November 2015 and we left about a year later. At this point I had been out to family and friends for 10 years, but I was a good boy and kept my pants zipped up.
"Two years later, after unwinding from the mental control of my former religion and still a gay virgin, I realized I needed to experience my authentic orientation. I hungered for male intimacy." Rob ran his fingers through his hair as he paused. "On my 63rd birthday, I had a strong spiritual affirmation that I could do this, that God was okay with me being gay and loving a man. I had a gay friend in town who I'd known for a few years, and we had mutual attraction, but we had always kept ourselves at arm's length. I didn't want sex with a stranger. This friendship easily fell in place intimately, and I broke my last gay barrier with him.
"I felt it was too late to walk away from my marriage and my wife, who now needs my daily care, and we still love each other dearly. She is fully accepting of gay people, but I knew she just couldn't handle the news that I needed a friend with benefits, so I chose to do my man loving on the DL, to spare her the anxiety and grief I knew she would go through if she knew. It's really hard to keep secrets from those you love, but in a weird way, I'm doing it for love.
"Everything was fine until one of my daughters intruded into my Messenger account and then all hell broke loose. My kids know how fragile my wife is, so she's unaware of what's happening. But my daughters have been pretty rough on me for the last six months. I thought if they ever found out, they would understand and be accepting of their gay father, but it's still an emotional siege. I don't know if I'll ever regain a fully loving relationship, which breaks my heart."
The man next to Rob placed his hand on Rob's shoulder.
Clay:
"I've only had two relatively long-term relationships, both ending badly and definitely for the best. My second relationship ended when I found out that my partner was using my away-from-home times to fuck every man in town while I was gone — and in our bed. I only found out for sure when my best friend told me.
"I decided that I wasn't cut out for relationships, and I became very depressed, but at the time I didn't know it. I only dated or hooked up occasionally, but a long-term relationship was the last thing that I wanted.
"After the layoff from my company, I was devastated, and my self-confidence and self-worth were in the toilet. I lost all interest and was barely surviving. Finding work wasn't easy either. Unable to find work, my car was repossessed and home foreclosed on. Luckily, I managed to find a job I liked, which has a mental health program. Slowly, I'm getting life back on track.
"I appreciate all of you listening."
Jamal:
"It was hard for Dad to accept who I was. He said I brought shame on the family. I had avoided coming out for fifteen years. I knew he would feel that way. Growing up, I had heard how he and Grandpa talked about `homosexual men.' Usually, the terms were slurs. It wasn't even a religious objection. He said Black men just shouldn't be gay. I really internalized that. I lived in fear for so long.
"When I was 23, I had my first gay experience. In that moment, that night, I was on Cloud 9. I felt like the person I wanted to be. When I went to my folks' house that weekend, it all began. I was torn inside for who I wanted to be and who I was afraid to be. Fifteen years. I could never have a boyfriend; if I did, I'd have to hide him. What kinda relationship would that be?
"Fifteen years.
"At 35, I finally told him. My doctor knew it was unhealthy for me to keep it in. But it was a tradeoff. I went from hiding the truth to accepting the consequences of the truth.
"Luckily, I have a partner who accepts me, in spite of my family. He's the only one who knows all that ... until me sayin' it just now."
Louis:
"I guess I'm different in that I didn't get married. I was close. But I was afraid to. I almost pressured myself into it, thinking it was the RIGHT thing. It would be the thing that would make me straight.
"I had fooled around with a friend in high school. I would hear things like `all boys do that.' I never knew if it was true, but it let me think that I would be straight and I was just like everyone else. But I went to a Christian college. I'm sure there was still sex all around me, but never in my circle of friends. We always went to devotionals and group activities ... spiritual. But when my roommates undressed, I looked at them. I longed to touch them. I thought about them when I masturbated.
"But after graduation, my degree in religious studies led me to be a youth minister. I was hired in my young 20s. It is amazing — ironic actually — how many talks and counseling sessions I gave on `God's direction' when it came to sex. It would either be in a class or sometimes talking to kids — not that I was that much older — who were experiencing temptation. I WASN'T with women, so I felt like this expert. But I was with men. I honestly lusted after men. So, I started dating ladies thinking that would do it. A young Christian woman at church was really nice to be with. Pretty too. We'd make out ... probably mild stuff by most accounts ... it would arouse me, but I never felt the uncontrollable urge to take her to bed. I was just glad to be in a straight relationship.
"When I was away at a training workshop, I had a night free in Indianapolis. As I drove around, I saw a pub had a rainbow flag hanging outside. I was alone. I was intrigued just enough to go inside and have a bite to eat. I didn't want to look like a dork, so I ordered a beer too. My second in my whole life. I saw a few couples. Not everyone was gay, but it seemed like most were. When I saw two men — I thought they were really handsome — started kissing, I got hard. Before I left, I went to the bathroom. Outside it was a poster of an upcoming event at a nightclub called Metro. The event was several days away, but I noted the address.
"Back at the hotel, I felt guilty and prayed and prayed and prayed. But I remembered the address.
"I found myself grabbing something to eat there the next night. I stayed for four hours. I saw some men dancing by themselves, and I talked myself into doing it. I'm sure I was terrible. Some guy in skin-tight leather shorts came up and danced with me. I should have been turned off — or terrified — but I wasn't in the slightest. I was having fun. I liked dancing with a man. He brought me to his table. I met a friend or two of his, but more than anything, I felt his arm on me: my shoulder, my leg, my chest. I couldn't believe how hard I was. At that moment, at 28, I knew unquestionably that I was gay. He kissed me before long, and I loved it."
Louis stopped and lowered his head.
"He asked if he could come to my hotel. I was such a fish out of water. I don't know if he thought I was a project to be fixed or an easy lay, but I let him. It was my first time with oral sex. I was in heaven.
"Until I was in hell. Thank heavens he didn't spend the night. Had I woken up with him, I might have done something drastic. But I was in hell. I knew I was gay and that wasn't allowed. For several months, I tried to get serious with my girlfriend. I tried to work myself up sexually ... but it really wasn't there, not like it was with my one-night stand. I thought maybe if I married her, it would all be okay. I thought about it hard.
"Until I knew that was a lie. I couldn't do that to her. Eventually, I told her. Then the deacons of the church. I resigned. And in two weeks, I lost every friend I had. All my friends were from the church mostly. And I no longer fit. It wasn't like they threw me out. I removed myself.
"But no one called. No one made sure I was okay.
"So, I moved to Jackson Bend. I can't say I jumped right away into the gay life. I blamed it for ruining my life — my job, my finances, my relationships, not to mention my family. I worked at Wal-Mart." He sighed. "I still do. One of our coworkers figured me out. He invited me to Daniel's. Then Indigo. It didn't take long before I jumped into the gay world feet first. The sex was fun. Booze was fun. Until I couldn't see my life more than a year out. I felt directionless. Friendless. Nothing seemed on course. It's all my fault, I know, but I couldn't picture my life at 35 or 40 or 50 — and that scared me.
"So here I am at 32. Alone. Lost. But I feel like I belong here. Thanks for the safe space."
People near Louis patted him on the back.
Then came Noah, Rand, Darius and Erwin. Each had their story. Each had unique details but common threads.
"It's 8, and we're supposed to finish by this time, although there isn't another activity in this room for the rest of the night," I said. "They lock up the center at 9. We can probably do a few more shares."
I saw Cooper go to the corner. He made a phone call.
Scott and Morris decided to share.
"Some of you maybe wanted to share tonight. So far, after each meeting, we've decided to go out, just to visit. But you might be able to share at whatever place we choose. Maybe you just came to listen. Or belong. You DO belong." I looked over the group. "Was this helpful to anyone?"
Every hand was raised.
"I called McGee's. The back room is available,' Cooper announced. "I didn't know how many of you would like to go out afterward, but they said the room is ours."
Cooper and I started to put things away. Jamal and Noah helped. Lorenzo headed over to McGee's to be a welcoming person for those that went over. Out of the twenty-plus men at the meeting, eleven went. Some had a burger and fries; one had an iced tea, several had beers. Cooper and I shared a plate of tots; I had beer, he had a Sprite.
The two of us had let Larry and Don know that we'd be later than usual. They were understanding.
When I returned home, Don welcomed me with a warm embrace. "I take it it went well?"
"Very much so. I'm a little overwhelmed."
"I'm sorry I missed it."
"I just never expected such a big turnout."
"The radio spot reached our audience."
"I guess so. Some of the shares were a little tough. But I think the people who ... just needed to be with others ... felt a sense of ... belonging. It's what they needed. Even those who had hard stories were all smiles at McGee's. It's like a small community."
"That you helped grow. I'm proud of you."
"Thanks."
Don placed his nose on mine. His lips pressed mine in the lightest, feathery touch. "Can my radio star take some fun pills?" he whispered.
Forty minutes later, Don lowered himself on my rod. My pole. My mast.
"Ohhhh, yes, my love. I am glad we are doing this."
"Me too," I said, slowly pushing all of my cock up in him.
I hadn't fucked Don in a few weeks. We were good at oral sex and mutual masturbation lately. Don fucked me two weeks ago. We were due for a good bronco ride.
Don squirmed his hips around my hard-on. Pedro surged inside my partner, pushing in and rubbing flesh.
I reached up to place my hands on Don's chest towering above me. He moaned. I groaned as I lifted my hips to slowly fuck him.
Don reached back and held my knees as he rocked back and forth, riding my dick. He grunted as the pleasure coursed through his hole. "Baby. Emory. God, yes. Fuck me harder."
I thrust up inside him. My dick felt harder with each minute. I adored how the pills worked for me when we chose the nights to use them. Don was doing all the talking. I just groaned.
"Ohhh, Em. Yes. Yes. Fuck me, hon'. FUCK ME!"
"Ungh!" I grunted with each push. "Ungh! Ohhh! Unnngh!"
"Ohhh, yes. Fuck, yes."
Don and I looked like a gyroscope. I was undulating my hips; his swirled around my manhood. He leaned forward. He placed one hand on my shoulder and finally grabbed his cock with his other hand.
He growled. I yelled.
I thrust Sgt. Pedro up into my partner powerfully.
"Yeah. Ohh, yeah. Yeah!" I called out.
Don wailed, "Fuck me, babeeeeeee."
I watched him abuse his erection, pulling it, yanking it, pulverizing it. He craned his neck. I saw veins throb. My cock shoved up inside him. I felt veins throb.
"GOD YES!" he screamed.
"UNGGH!" I grunted.
"Don't stop, Em! Fuck me hard. FUCK ME HARD!!"
"OH YES!! Oh, Don. God yes!! OHHHHHH, I'm getting close."
"Me too, my love. I love your cock inside me. Fuck me with it. Don't ever stop. You feel so good inside me. You fill me."
"UNGH!! Don, I'm there. I'M THERE!"
"Yes! Come inside me. Fill me with all your wonderful cum. GOD YES!"
I felt the cum fire from my cock deep inside the man I loved. I screamed in the glorious release. Don rode me as he abused his own hard flesh.
"Don't take it out. Leave it in!" he instructed. "Keep your cock inside me!"
Don wriggled his ass around my monument. His wails almost sounded like pleading, begging, whimpering.
"OhhhhHHHHHHHHH! FUCK YES!!"
His first shot hit my chin. "Yeah," I breathed. The rest of his cum poured onto my navel. He screamed and came and rode my cock like a pogo stick.
When his moaning stopped, he looked down toward me. We were all smiles. "Jesus! That was good."
"It sounded like it," I said. "You're a madman in bed, you know that?"
"Someone my age needs some sort of creative outlet, right?"
I laughed. "You're very good at it."
"You bring out the best in me."
Don lifted off my dick, which was fine as Pedro was needing a break. My partner went to the bathroom to clean up a bit.
I remembered when Cooper told me that Mitchell preferred sex on the quiet side in the beginning. Jesus, what they were missing. Surely, he and Larry were animals with each other. I knew they had to be loud. Had I been 30, thinking about Cooper and Larry going at it would have had Pedro jumping to attention again, but I wasn't 30; I was 68. But the fact that Don and I still had wild, screaming sex was good enough for me.
Once we were ready to sleep, Don turned to me. He held me tight.
"You're very quiet. What's on your mind?"
"Tonight, I guess."
"And ...?"
"I ... feel proud."
"Mm?"
"When you and I became a couple, I was so down on myself that I was dull and boring and you were involved in so many social circles and were on committees-"
"Because I was alone and didn't have anyone to go home to."
"But you were involved, Don. You had purpose. Tonight ... I felt that. What Heart and Soul did for so many people tonight ... it makes me feel good. I feel like I did something useful."
"Because you did, my love. You touched many people tonight. I'm sure it helped them a great deal. I'm proud of you."
We kissed, and he moved into my arms. It wasn't long before I heard him breathing deeply in his sleep. His head was on my chest. I felt a whole new happiness from many directions.
—
Meetings stayed large through July.
In August, the city's gay circular distributed at the bars and restaurants did a quick interview with me. Once the article printed, I asked the community center if we could have more chairs delivered. In the second meeting in August, we had 31 people in attendance.
In September, I knew everyone by name. Not all men attended both meetings each month. A few came once or twice and never came back, but most of the attendees simply enjoyed being a community. Not everyone shared each time. A few people would say something that had recently happened in their lives. Many men were wrestling with relationships with relatives. Or work. Some were still married and talked about that.
In October, Corey's first choir concert of his junior year was being performed. Lorenzo and I asked if we could attend. Cooper said that would be perfectly fine. Don came as well. We weren't for sure if this small gathering of gay men, including Cooper, Larry and Mitch, stood out in the audience. We tried not to be too flamboyant.
One particular song where just the boys sang a particular verse was haunting. I loved it, and so did the men around me. We cheered loudly. Corey was a mature kid, but I could still see the child in him looking for his parents in the audience. Natalie and Daryl were in the row in front of us. When he found his "fans" in the crowd, he smiled at us but then tried to look professional again.
The concert was about 35 minutes. I wasn't expecting to like it as much as I did. I thought the teacher had selected a nice variety that showcased many styles, but it wasn't too eclectic where no one could appreciate it. "Rewrite The Stars" from The Greatest Showman was a great show-stopping ending.
When it was over, Corey's parents, along with Larry and Daryl went up to speak with him. Mitch wanted to speak to him as well. Don took the opportunity to hit the bathroom.
A sigh behind us caused us to turn. We looked up and saw a man a row behind us.
"Sorry. I ... I just ... never mind."
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Totally. I'm just ... sad. That man up there, in the deep blue shirt, he ... we went out years ago."
I looked to see that he was talking about Larry.
"You and Larry ...?"
"Briefly. I live in an artsy world, and I made the stupid mistake of feeling he wouldn't be happy in my world, so I broke it off. I thought I was saving him from being dragged into dinners and events that he wouldn't enjoy. I didn't give him enough credit. We hit it off and I didn't see it through. He's the one I let `get away.' I've always regretted it."
"He's very happy," I said.
"With a partner like that, who wouldn't be?"
"My regret is the man standing next to him, the one in the sport coat," Lorenzo said. "Mitchell was interested in me, but I was still cowering in the closet, too afraid to come out. He's now with a great guy. I blew my chance. I can totally relate."
The man stuck out his hand. "Roman. Roman Berringer."
Lorenzo shook it. "Lorenzo Barker."
"Aren't you on the city council?"
"That's a volunteer position, but yes. I'm with the education system as my paying job."
"I might have seen you at a city council meeting. I'm with the arts league. I occasionally sit in."
I watched the two men talk briefly. It was hard for me to picture Larry with anyone but Cooper. Of course, he had a past; I just never thought about it.
"It was nice meeting you, Lorenzo," Roman said, and he left us.
I looked at Don walking back. I noticed him staring at fathers hugging their kids.
"These dads seem so young. I guess everyone is young when you're my age," he said.
"Are you lusting after young men?" I joked.
"I hope you mean the fathers," he said. "But several of them are quite fetching."
"Yummy indeed."
Don could have possibly known the man we had spoken with. Don was involved in arts organizations. Unfortunately, I had forgotten his name already.
The adults took Corey and his friend Aiden out for sundaes. We showered the boys with compliments about the concert at their cars before we left. They invited us, but we let them go as a family.
Later that evening as we were ready to turn in, I had my mouth in a toothpaste froth. "Do you ever feel like a dirty old man?" Don asked me. I looked at him in the mirror with a look of total confusion. My expression — a rabid deer in headlights — had no answer.
A moment later, I spit into the sink. "Hold that thought," I sputtered with spittle of fresh mint hitting the faucet.
As we crawled into the sheets, both lamps on our nightstands were on. "How's this again??"
"My question?" he replied. "Well, you noticed me looking at those young fathers. I hope you know I'm madly in love with you and wouldn't dream of being unfaithful for a second."
"But ...?"
"Do you ever look at young men?"
"Meaning do I have eyes?"
"You know."
"Yes, I can appreciate attractive young men. Who couldn't?"
"I remember in my young twenties hearing my mother comment on someone — not even as old as me! — saying `he's such a dirty old man.' I still remember where we were. It was just a man that had turned to look at two young ladies that had passed by. His gaze lingered a moment, but I don't think he really did anything outrageous."
"Okay."
"And now ... it's me! I'm the dirty old man. I couldn't help but picture those young fathers ... out of their clothes."
I laughed hard. "I think you are probably a normal person ... gay person. When you start propositioning them and stalking them, then we'll move you into the dirty old man category."
"Propositioning. Sure. As if someone in their late thirties would even think about hopping into bed with someone my age."
"Probably straight too."
"I'm sure they were."
"Would you share him with me?" I grinned.
Don got a huge smile. He turned to look at me. "As in, between us? Here? In this bed?"
"Could you imagine?"
"Ohh, there was a young man with a beautiful chest and gorgeous hair — sandy brown. We could gladly take turns gobbling him up ... inch by inch."
I laughed again. "Us two dirty old men."
He giggled.
I was hard with our fantasy conversation. Pedro liked this kind of talk. I reached for his hand and placed it on my erection.
"Will you settle for little old me?"
"Not so little at the moment," Don winked. "I will always take you, my darling."
Seconds later, I felt my cock licked and swallowed. My hand reached below my partner as if to milk a cow. There we were ... two dirty old men still enjoying the pleasures of sex ... even at our age.
* * * *
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