James

Here we go, everyone! The long-awaited new part to "James." This part picks up at a point some time after the previous one ended. Normally I am not the type to ask people to email; I much prefer it that people email if they feel moved to do so. I am moving the story along a new path now, and I would like to know how you, the readers, feel about it. Due to constraints on my time (as a busy college student ... STILL), I can't promise a response to every email, but you can be certain that each one is read and considered. Thanks in advance!

And now, to the many dedications:

To Chris and D.Z., my fellow writers: thanks for the many hours of conversation about ANYTHING but writing.

To Alex, my number one fan: you're still the coolest!

To all of the readers: thanks for being faithful!

To Skuyler, my new friend: thanks for the late-night chats.

To all of the people who are living with HIV, you are in my prayers.

To all of those people in troubled relationships, remember this: communication is key. You'd be surprised how much someone could NOT be saying, and how much pain and resentment this could cause.

Two special dedications ... to Bryan: I know you'll probably never see this dedication, but it's out there. You're going to make it dude. I wish you all the happiness, contentment, and prosperity in the world, because you deserve it.

And to David: what can I say? This has been one hellacious amusement park ride, and I can't wait to see where it goes. I hope I can be as good a friend to you as you have been to me so far.

And now ...

James, the Continuing Story: Evolution, Part I

I unlocked the door to the apartment and let my forehead rest on the cold wood briefly before I opened it and walked in. It had been an exhausting day. Hell, it had been an exhausting semester so far. As much study and work as I had put in during grad school, I was still unprepared for the amount of work being a full-time professor would be. Working at a private college meant that I wasn't bound by the ever-present need to "publish or perish," so my workload wasn't as large as those of my colleagues who worked at the public universities and colleges. My time was spent trying to be the best, most "hands-on" professor I could be, and my students sure responded to it. I was getting rave reviews, and that made it easier to get through each exhausting day. But when I got home, the couch always looked so inviting.

I dropped my bag on the floor next to the door and strode into the living room. In the months since James and I had gotten hitched, his apartment had truly become "ours." I looked around. My keyboard sat next to the entertainment center now. My favorite rocking chair from my place sat next to James's leather couch. In the bedroom, above our bed, were three black-and-white pictures. One was the photograph that had been taken of James months before. Next to it were two new ones. We had decided to go to the same photographer to get some shots of the two of us together. When we showed him our rings, he squealed and gave us both a huge hug (actually, he felt me up pretty well when he hugged me) and offered us a free picture like the one he made of James. As it turned out, he remembered that picture well and some companies actually requested James for some shoots, including a well-known clothing manufacturer known for its racy underwear ads. James blushed at me and had told me that he didn't feel right doing it, that modeling wasn't his focus or plan for life. I put it in the back of my mind to bring it up later.

So the photographer had asked me to strip and he posed me much like he had posed James before. I had to admit the picture looked awesome. The shadows emphasized my broad shoulders, pectorals and arms really well. Also, my legs were brought up to show off their size as well. The picture revealed nothing, yet revealed everything. Then the photographer had posed the two of us together, naked, in a pose to emphasize our bond. James had sat, Indian-style, on a gray cloth. I was leaning against a block that was covered in the same cloth, and my arms were wrapped around my love. My chin rested on his shoulder, and he leaned back into me with a look of rapture on his face. My eyes were directed toward him, and my lips were grazing his neck. The picture kicked major ass. We had it enlarged and had arranged them on the wall. The picture of James was above my side of the bed, and the one of me was above James's pillow. He would have it no other way.

We'd also had many other pictures made of the two of us that day. Some in formal wear, and some in casual stuff. The personality pictures were awesome. One was of me sitting at a grand piano, and James was sitting on it holding a microphone. The picture resembled an old shot of a lounge singer. I gave a copy of it to his parents, and they loved it. The best one was one of me sitting on a stool, arms crossed, wearing a gray t-shirt under my navy blue sweater that brought out my eyes, and a pair of jeans, my normal clothes choice. My hair, freshly buzzed for the day, had a bit of gel in it to give it some texture, and I was clean-shaven. James was behind me and to the right, with his left hand on my left shoulder, and his right hand on my right forearm. James was wearing his dark red sweater, the one that hugged his awesome body, and a pair of khakis. He was grinning big at the camera, with that impish look in his eye. I was giving the camera a normal "Dave smirk" as Barry called it. The shot has been specifically arranged for the flash of the camera to catch the glint of light on our rings. When we got the pictures, everyone we knew wanted one personality pic and that picture. Actually, Barry threatened legal action to get a copy of the black-and-white nude of us, but James flatly told him that that picture was for us alone.

One of the end tables next to the couch had an arrangement of pictures on it with family and friends. There was one of Tanner, Dana, and Kristen. I made another mental note to call Dana and check up on her new pregnancy. Another Collins male, I thought to myself. How will Mom manage? I could hear her voice now, making a statement that had emerged from her mouth hundreds of times over the years: "This family needs a little estrogen!"

Right behind that picture was my brother Joe's official Army picture, in his dress uniform. In the frame was also one of him in a ratty old sweatshirt with a backwards ball cap, making a funny face. That's my brother, the clown, I thought. Then there was one of my parents at their most recent anniversary party. My dad the stoic, and my mom the bitch, I thought with fondness. In a flash, I was remembering the endless happy bickering at my house over the years. Strange that we expressed love in that way, but our family did have genuine love.

Then there were the scattered pictures from James's family. In the months since their reconciliation, there had been a flood of pictures that we'd had to put in albums and frame. On the "table of honor" rested pictures of all of James's siblings. Paul, in his low-slung jeans and old faded t-shirt; Deanna in a ponytail resting on the couch, showing a toothy grin; Elizabeth in front of her mirror, mascara wand at the ready; Lauren in her cheerleading uniform; and Gary in his ever-present baseball uniform. Then there was a nice picture of Linda and Brian Kennedy all dressed up, apparently taken at a church picnic. Then there were pictures of our various friends. Todd and Barry had a picture somewhere in the muddle, as did Matt and Laura. Our other gay friends, couples and singles, filled out the rest of the table.

On the opposite end table were various pictures of us. There was one of me in my college football uniform, looking all butch and tough. There was one of James in a very brief swimsuit, with a nearly obscene bulge showing. Then there was a formal picture from the wedding ceremony, and one of us feeding each other cake. A picture from the park, taken early in our relationship, rounded out the "scene."

I flopped back into my favorite chair, my rocker from the old apartment. An old man in a rocker, I thought to myself as I stretched. I looked at my thighs pushing against the fabric of my suit pants. Nah, old men don't have legs like this, I thought with pride. Then I felt the pants. Would I ever get used to wearing a suit? Nah. Sooner or later, the dress code for Dr. Collins would get rather lax. The college didn't have a dress code for their professors. I had continued to dress up to make a favorable impression on the faculty, who would hopefully offer me a tenure-track position at the college, but one of my colleagues had told me that my work was making much more of an impression. The emphasis at my school was on teaching, and in a few short months I was making quite an impression.

I turned my head toward the window. The sky was gray and the clouds were low. The weather had forecast snow for the evening. That would be great, I thought. We hadn't had a lot of snow thus far in the winter. I leaned back and closed my eyes, reflecting on the semester thus far. September 11 had caused a huge hubbub on campus, as well as at James's school. I'd thrown out two days from the schedule to devote to discussion of the events, and I had been well pleased by the discussions. James had been an impromptu counselor to many of his students as well.

"Married life" was treating us well, although our work schedules didn't allow us a lot of fun time. I was looking forward to Christmas. For our first Christmas as a committed couple, our families were letting us off the hook as far as big holiday celebrations went. They knew we'd worked hard for the last few months and needed time together. Of course, we were going to find time to get to see our families during the holiday, but the majority of the time would be mending neglected friendships and getting in some needed "couple time."

I let my head fall back and drifted off into sleep. I was awakened a short time later by the soft lips of my husband. I kept my closed and smiled. "Mmm," I murmured. "Darling, we can't do this now. My husband will be home at any moment."

I heard a soft chuckle and then a really awful falsetto saying, "Oh damn, honeybunch. I was hoping to get in a quickie before the troll got here."

I ran my hands up and felt a pair of muscular cheeks. "Ah, well, the so-called troll has the sweetest ass in the western hemisphere."

Then the lips returned. I moved my hands up his back and pulled him in so that he was sitting on my lap. The kiss deepened, with his hot tongue probing in my mouth. All too soon, we separated. "Ohh," he groaned as he put his forehead to mine, "I needed that."

I opened my eyes and looked into the deep chocolate brown of his. I tightened my arms again. "Rough day, babe?"

"Not rough, just long," he said as he stood up. He stretched. I grinned and sat back to enjoy the show. Watching James stretch was entertainment that I would gladly pay for. Good thing I didn't have to, because I would be broke.

James finished and turned to look at me. He smiled, and then I felt his gaze move down to my crotch. As always, just the sight of my husband got me hard. He turned a little bit more to give me a good look at his hot backside, then stretched again. I groaned a bit. "Man, I wish I had a bit of energy. You look like your backfield needs a good plowing."

James groaned at my pun, then he turned fully and wiggled his ass at me. "You know it, stud." He walked toward the kitchen. "Any thoughts about what you want to eat for dinner?"

I stood up and maneuvered my head to try to work out a developing crick in my neck. "How about James-ka-bob?"

He poked his head out the door. "How do you make that?" he asked as he winked.

"Easy," I said as I leaned against the kitchen doorframe. "You skewer James on ..." My description was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Shit," I muttered.

James laughed. "Hold that thought, stud." He pulled out a pot and placed it on the counter and started rummaging through the cabinets.

I rolled my eyes and headed for the door. I was the cook in this family. This could get interesting. I got to the door and pulled it open, revealing a smiling Barry and Todd. "Howdy! Are we interrupting anything good? I hope so," he said, looking around. "Anybody naked?"

"No," James said from the kitchen.

"Darn," Barry said as he walked in. Todd followed him in, holding a covered dish.

"You know, I was working on rectifying that situation before your horribly bad timing kicked in," I said, glaring at Barry. He flipped me off and headed for the couch.

Todd grinned at me. "He's always hoping to walk in on you two in a `compromising situation.' You know he's just a horny old pervert."

"Hasn't bothered you for the better part of a decade, bitch!" Barry yelled. Todd winked at me.

I smiled back and took the dish from him. "What have you brought us?"

"Lasagna," Todd said. "Barry thought you guys might not feel like cooking tonight, and I'd made this huge pan, so we decided to bring it over."

"That's nice," I said. "So, ho, you're feeling generous tonight?" I yelled toward Barry, who flipped me the bird again. "He wishes," I muttered as I walked into the kitchen. I placed the pan on the counter and kissed James on the cheek. "Lasagna," I said, indicating the pan. "Saved by the cooking bartender and his thoughtful husband."

James looked at me in relief. "Great," he said. "We have nothing here to eat."

I looked in the refrigerator. "Anything here for a salad?"

"I don't know," James said. "Give me the butter. I'll put some on the bread with some garlic and that'll be nice."

I dug out enough for a decent salad while James fixed the bread. We were a great team in the kitchen. In just a few minutes, we had the provisions for a great meal together. "Hey Barry," I yelled into the living room, "if you're through having your bitch-fit, can you set the table for us?"

"`Kay," came the reply. Barry came in and started pulling out plates and glasses. He was whistling some unrecognizable tune.

I looked at him curiously. "Are we in a good mood tonight? You seem awfully chipper."

Barry grinned at me as he pulled out silverware. "Yes, very much so," he said. "Todd and I decided to have a big dinner for Christmas at our place."

James whistled. "Wow, that's a production in the works." I nodded in agreement. When Todd and Barry decided to throw a party, it was a big deal. "Who's coming?" James asked.

"Well, Todd's family isn't having a big dinner this year, so that's why we're not going there. And of course, my mother will be traveling with her latest husband. I think it's husband number 6. I lost count a long time ago." Barry's mother was a wonderful woman who lost her first husband, Barry's father, to a heart attack when Barry was 19. She'd been heartbroken at the loss of the love of her life, and had remarried several times trying to get over the hurt.

Barry started carrying the dishes to the dining table in the other room. "So we've decided to invite our friends over and have a big fag-fest Christmas dinner. Can you two come, or are you making the trek to the homesteads?"

I looked at my husband, who nodded. "Sure, we'll come," I said as I put the lasagna down on the table. "Who else?"

"Let's see," Barry said. "Todd and me, you two, Jim and whoever he's dating," he remarked, mentioning one of the other bartenders at Todd's club, "and some other couples we know. Some of the singles, too."

"If this were a porno, it would be an orgy in the making," James joked as he sat down.

"No way," Barry said. "No orgies in my house!"

"Not since the last one, anyway," Todd jibed. Barry shot him a withering look.

James grinned big. "Oh boy, story time!" he said excitedly.

I laughed. "I can tell it, I was there for this one." James looked at me, surprised. "Well, I was!" I looked at Barry, who was giving me a look that promised swift, painful death if I told. I was feeling risky. "It was when I'd just started my masters," I said as I took the salad tongs and started dishing out some veggies.

"Oh God, do I have to relive this?" Barry moaned.

"Yes, now hush," I said. "It was all your fault anyway."

James looked around at all of us. "Go on," he said.

"Well," Todd said, picking up the story, "it was back during Barry's and my last `adventurous period'." He dished some lasagna. "We're monogamous, but every now and then we like to spice things up a bit. Well, Barry was feeling antsy one night and so he decided to throw a party. He invited everyone we knew, and made sure that they knew that playtime would be allowed. Condoms and lube all over the place."

James was staring, openmouthed. "I can't believe I'm hearing this."

I picked up the story from there. "So, after a little bit, the party really gets going. Guys everywhere pairing off, getting into groups, all sorts of stuff."

"And Barry's eating it all up," Todd said after swallowing some food. Barry was sitting in his chair, a sullen look on his face. "But not the next morning."

"That's for sure," I said, laughing at the memory. "After the hormones and poppers wore off, all he could see was the stains left everywhere."

"Four thousand dollars to clean everything," Barry said through clenched teeth. "And I made a vow then, no more sex parties."

"Four years, and he's held to it," Todd said, smiling at his lover.

We carried on through dinner, talking about our Christmas plans and making the occasional jibes at Barry. The whole time, though, James kept giving me sideways glances, and a few times I caught him openly staring.

"How come you never told me about that?" James asked as we washed the dishes. Barry and Todd had left shortly after we'd finished eating, sensing the tension in the air.

"What do you mean?" I asked. I put the glass I had just dried into the cabinet.

"The sex party. Anything like that. Have you ever fooled around with those two?"

I looked at James. "No, I haven't. It would be too weird, and it would've been even back that far. Why?"

"I don't know," he said as he washed a plate. "I guess we haven't talked a lot about this stuff."

I thought about that as we finished washing the dishes. He was right. As much as we had shared about our lives, we hadn't said all that much about our past sexual histories. Sure, we'd talked about our past boyfriends and I knew about his former "job," but we hadn't delved much into it. "I just assumed we'd talk about it when it came up. I know I'm curious about some of the stuff you've done in the past, but I just haven't felt like bringing it up."

James frowned at me as he handed me the last dish. "Why?"

I shrugged. "Just figured it would be a sensitive subject."

James lifted his eyebrows. "Since when have you ever known a subject to be sensitive with me?"

I put the plate away and closed the cabinet. "Okay, sensitive with me," I said, still facing the cabinets. "I have this wicked possessive streak, and ..."

"And you get insanely jealous every time you imagine me making it with some other guy?" James finished as he drew up next to me.

I looked at the floor. "Yeah."

James smiled. "You want to talk about it now?"

I looked at him and nodded. We walked into the living room and sat on the couch, facing the window. James reached over and turned off the lamp, casting the room into darkness. The only light came from the window, where we could see the snow starting to fall. James snuggled next to me, and I wrapped my arm around his shoulder. "So where do you want to start?" I asked.

James wiggled a bit, trying to find a comfortable spot. "How many other sex parties have you been involved in?"

I smiled. "Just the one. I'd come out to my folks then, as well as most of my good friends, but I wasn't very comfortable with it all yet. And that whole thing was never too attractive to me, ever. The only gay people I hung with for almost a year were Todd and Barry, and they never did anything like that again. The rest of my buddies were all straight."

"What all did you do there?"

"At the sex party?"

"Yeah."

I thought back. "Hmm. I did a three-way with these two twinky guys. A lot of sucking, being sucked even more ... nothing much else."

"Okay," James said. "What else have you done?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean ever. How much have you done?"

"Pretty much everything we've done. I haven't had the inclination to do much else, or the interest."

"Or the opportunity."

I looked down at James's head, which was snuggled against my chest. "Beg your pardon? What do you mean opportunity?"

I could hear the smile in his voice. "Keep in mind, Dave, I have more experience with people in this area than you do. I could tell you some stuff about yourself that you either don't realize, or don't want to admit to yourself."

I frowned. "Like what?"

James pulled out from under my arm and sat up to face me. "You're afraid of a lot of stuff, Dave. You are scared shitless of hurting people with your size, correct?" I nodded. I hadn't mentioned that to a lot of people. That was something James and I had covered a long time ago. "Okay. You keep a tight rein on your aggression." I nodded again. "You ever thought of just letting go?"

My mind reeled a bit. I just imagined unleashing all of my emotion and feeling, and felt a bit horrified. James grabbed my hand. "I can see that in your face, Dave. You don't trust yourself to let go, do you? To let everything come out that you feel inside. You have to control yourself." James didn't say it explicitly, but I knew what he meant. My mind flashed back to the Halloween party the year before, when in a drunken state, I had let all of my possessiveness and jealousy out in a driving, mind-blowing fuck in the middle of the dance floor. I had claimed James as my property, sending the message to everyone who was witness that he was mine, to keep their hands away. The thing that scared me the most about that night was how right it felt. I had unleashed the black monster inside me and let it rage for a brief moment, and I'd felt free, fully alive for the first time since I was a child. James hadn't pressed me on it, hadn't even mentioned it until now. He knew I needed time to process it. I'd been so disturbed about it that I had buried it.

I looked up at my husband, the man I loved and trusted most in the world. "I do have to control myself, James. I get scared at what I might be capable of."

James held my hand tighter. "And when are you going to realize that you don't have to be scared around me? Nothing you can do will drive me away. I'm here for the long haul, Dave. That's part of being together, learning new things about each other, and helping the other discover new things about himself."

I thought about that, then I pulled him back into our earlier position. "All right, your turn. What all have you done?"

James chuckled. "You name it, I've done it."

"Like what?"

James took a deep breath. "You know I never let myself do anything that I really loved doing, to keep my focus. I never bottomed or anything similar. Sure, what I did was enjoyable and pleasurable, but ... you understand."

"Sure."

"But other than that, I was part of a lot of stuff. Some of it got kind of raunchy."

I was intrigued. "Like what?"

James looked up at me. "You sure you want to know this?"

"Yeah. Tell me. Remember, trust?"

James grinned. "How awful it is to have one's own words thrown back." He sat up a bit, then stretched out on the couch so that his head was lying in my lap. I started playing with his right nipple through his shirt, and stroked his hair with my left hand. He purred his contentment with both, and started talking. "Well, let's see. I've topped a bunch of times, done oral stuff. I've been involved with water sports a bunch, both giving and receiving." I looked down, surprised. "You wanted to know, remember?" I sighed and started playing with his body again. "Yeah, I did. But you never once said anything about water sports with me."

"You weren't ready to hear about it," he said. "But yeah, lots of stuff there. I never took any in my mouth or ass. Some people say it's safe, some say it isn't. I chose to err on the side of caution."

I thought a moment. "Did you ever do anything with ... you know ... other ... body stuff?"

James grinned. "You mean did I ever do scat?" I nodded slightly. "Hell no. That's one thing I would never do, no matter who or when. I got parasites once from some bad water, and that's an experience I don't care to relive." James noticed my exhalation of breath and laughed. "Feel better?" I smiled and nodded.

"Okay," he said. "Moving on. I've done some bondage scenes before, a few that were pretty intense. When I first started, I did those with someone else because I really didn't know what I was doing. When you get into the hard stuff, you need to be sure of everything. Anyway, there was some hardcore stuff. S and M, some punishment, all sorts of stuff involved."

I imagined James whipping someone. The image was pretty incongruous. "I can't picture you doing anything like that."

"You have to channel somehow. I just imagined what the guy wanted done, which was pretty easy for me, so I just did it." James looked up at me after he said that, and I looked deep into his eyes. Was he saying what I thought I was hearing? I filed it away for later consideration.

"What else?" I asked.

"For a while, I got pretty heavy into leather stuff. It could actually be pretty fun. But it's not something that can be learned. Some people have no taste for that stuff, some people have a little bit. It's instinctual, whether you get into the rougher play or not. The slapping, spanking, spit, all that stuff."

I started rubbing his abs. "How long did you escort again?"

"About three years."

I shook my head. "You did a lot in three years. In the same three years, I didn't do much of anything at all. Just did a lot of fucking."

James grinned. "You just needed someone to let out your inner tiger." He laughed and lifted his head to kiss me.

I leaned back into the couch. My left hand now rested under James's head, and my right had pulled out the tail of his shirt to rub his bare stomach. "So how come the admission of the sex party disturbed you so much tonight? That confuses me a bit."

"It brought out my curiosity. That was something unexpected. To start, I couldn't see Todd and Barry doing something like that," James said. He was starting to wiggle a bit at my touch.

"Yeah, I can see that. You have to know their history. When they started their relationship, it was one of the most open in the world. Barry's a huge horndog and had a habit of doing anything with a dick during those days. And you know how guys flip over Todd. But after a while, they realized how much they really loved each other and wanted to be monogamous. It wasn't something they could just do, they had to decide it together and agree. So they did. About once a year, they got the `itch' to play around, and they did, but only together. But that's been a while." I ran my hand even higher, headed for his nipples. "But that can't be the only reason you were reacting."

"No, it wasn't," James admitted, moaning as my hand found his right nipple ring. "I was surprised that you'd never said anything. It just was sort of a shock." He let out a full-fledged groan as I tugged on the ring. "And I was kind of turned on at the image of you in an orgy of men." He grinned and winked at me.

I rolled my eyes and pulled out my left hand. I used my free hand to start unbuttoning his shirt. "Want to recreate some of it?"

"Do you have to ask?"

My last class on Friday ended a bit earlier than had the previous day's classes, so I decided to use the time to get a few nagging questions answered. I kept thinking about James's statement that he'd channeled his own desires about the kinky scenes. Did that mean that he wanted to get into that stuff with me? Did I really want to do it? I thought about the Halloween party again, and the rough way I'd taken James on the dance floor. I recalled how much he'd gotten into it. Yeah, I needed to talk about this with someone.

I stopped by the club, knowing that neither Todd nor Barry would be there. They weren't the ones to ask about this. The mid-afternoon Friday group was there, getting an early start on the weekend. Sure enough, Jim was behind the bar washing glasses. Jim Evans was a good guy, and he'd always been cool to me since the night we met. He was sort of quiet, kind of a tough guy. I knew from our conversations and hearsay that he was into the rough stuff and leather. I walked up and sat at the bar. "Hey Jim, how's it going?"

Jim looked up and nodded. "Dave. Can I get you something?"

I shook my head. "Nah, I'm cool. I wanted to talk to you about something."

Jim's eyebrows lifted. "Oh?"

"Yeah," I said. "You get into the rougher stuff, right? Leather, kink, S and M, that kind of thing?"

Jim leaned closer. "Yeah. So what's the deal?"

"Curiosity."

Jim nodded. "Okay. Figured you'd get around to asking one of these days," he said as he signaled Teresa, the other person working the bar that afternoon. "Hey Teresa, I'm taking a break. Call me back if it gets busy." She nodded, and Jim motioned me over to a table in the corner.

We sat down, and Jim looked at me with a knowing look on his face. "So, you're finally seeing it?"

I looked into his eye. "I think I know what you mean, and yeah. How did you know?"

Jim sat back. "It's like gaydar, man. You can tell from people what they get into a lot of the time, where they have interests. I could see it a mile away the first night we met. Sometime, you would want to take a walk on the wild side."

I shook my head in amazement. "Funny, seems like everyone could see it but me."

Jim nodded in understanding. "Hey, it's cool. You have to figure out for yourself that you have the taste. And I'll bet I know how this is happening. That husband of yours." I lifted an eyebrow. Jim laughed softly. "It's all about trust, man. On both sides. Actually, there has to be more trust on the part of the bottom, but really you have to be with someone you can trust to let it out. I figured that's how it was with you."

"So if you could see it, how come you never tried anything with me?"

"We're both tops," Jim said, "and you weren't ready. You and I share similar tastes, and while we could've had fun anyway, you weren't ready to see your interest."

I slumped in my chair. "Wow."

Jim leaned forward again. "So what do you want to know?"

"Too much, dude," I said. "Too much. I'm flying blind, here. I don't know."

"You do," Jim said. "It's all inside. You know what you want and how to go about it."

"Maybe," I said. "I'll admit it's been something I've thought about for a while. But James and I had this conversation last night. Some stuff he said made me think that he would be into it."

Jim nodded. "Yeah, I can see it. He's pretty open-minded, into new experiences. I'd bet he'd enjoy it. You lookin' to share?" he asked, grinning.

"Hands off," I said with a grin, not quite kidding.

Jim picked up on it. "Say no more, amigo. Say no more. I know better." He looked up at the sound of Teresa's voice. "I gotta go, man. Anything else?"

I looked up as he stood. "Yeah. I might need to borrow something down the road."

"Whatever ya need, man. Just clean it up before you bring it back." With that, Jim walked to the bar. I looked down at the table.

I let myself back into the apartment. James wasn't due to arrive home for another hour and a half, and my mind was in turmoil. I stood in the middle of the living room and looked around. My eyes hit my keyboard, and I knew what I wanted to do. I sat down and began to play the notes of Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata." It had been one of the first pieces I had learned when I began getting serous about my piano lessons. Once finished with Beethoven, I moved onto other piano pieces and adaptations. I was deep into a piano version of Pachelbel's "Canon in D" when James walked in the door.

"Hey babe," he said as he dropped his bag by the desk. He picked up his mail and shuffled through it, then he noticed what I was playing. I only played Pachelbel when my mind was turning and twisting over something. He dropped the letters and walked over. He leaned on the wall next to the keyboard. "Everything okay? Something happen at school?" I shook my head. "Okay, not at school, but something happened. Is your family okay?" I nodded. "Friends okay?" I nodded again. James was getting used to this with me. When I had something on my mind, I wouldn't say a word until I was ready. "Okay," he said. "I'm going to work on my lesson plans. When you're ready to talk, I'm here." I nodded and once again immersed myself in the canon.

When I finished playing, I looked up. James was concentrating intently on his work. I admired his diligence with his school work. He was always three weeks ahead of where he needed to be, and that left him plenty of time to do the stuff he enjoyed. I decided not to disturb him, so I went to change clothes. When I went into the bedroom, I pulled on some jeans and some comfortable shoes. I was about to pull on a t-shirt when I saw the brown bag that contained the purchase I had made after leaving the club. I looked to the open door, then back at the bag. Dropping the t-shirt on the bed, I picked up the bag and pulled out its contents, a simple black leather armband. I looked at it like it was some alien artifact, then I put it on where my left bicep met my deltoid muscle. I pulled out a twin and fastened it on my right arm. I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror. Wow. Amazing what two straps of black leather could do, I thought.

"Woof, Dave. Looks hot."

I jumped a bit at the voice. Leaning in the doorway was my husband, and he had a big grin on his face.

End of Part I

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