Karl's Deepest Secret, part 6

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Karl's Deepest Secret, Part 6
by Greg Scott

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All the usual stuff about you must be old enough in your jurisdiction, etc.  In other words, if you are underage, don't read this unless you have a really cool teacher who assigned it.  Otherwise, come back in a few years, when nobody will yell at you.

This is the twenty-fourth story in the series, The Lavender Line.

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At the end of a fun Saturday night, my brother Kevin insisted on driving me back to the hotel.  Greg and I said good-bye at Kevin's apartment as we were all leaving.

We kissed as if we were familiar lovers.  There was no point in talking about when we would see each other again, for neither of us knew, and yet we knew that we definitely would.  Our hands held onto each other as we walked in opposite directions until only our finger tips were touching.  Then, nothing.

"You've gotten yourself into a dilemma, haven't you?" Kevin said when we reached the parking lot of the hotel.

"You could say that," I agreed.

"Greg's a really great guy," my brother continued, effectively casting his vote.  "You two really seem to get along well."

"He is, and we do."

"What are you going to do?" Kevin asked the question that I had been trying to avoid all day.

"I don't know yet," I stated truthfully as tears began to form in my eyes.

"Some secrets can become very damaging, you know."

"I'm learning that," I said with the tears now streaking my cheek.

"I'll be coming home in less than four weeks," Kevin began.  "Thanksgiving, you know.  I'd be grateful for the company during the drive if you want me to bring along Greg."

"I'll call you when I know," I said as I reached for the door handle.

"I guess you're not going to invite me up to meet him?" Kevin asked, although he must have known my answer.

"I can't," I replied.

"I love you, Karl."

"I love you big brother," I replied thinking how very true that simple line actually was.

"Good luck," he called as I closed the car door and began to walk toward the lobby entrance.

When I entered our room, I was happy to see that David hadn't returned yet.  I needed time to wipe away my tears, get my emotions under control and, most of all, think.  It had been a very social day, and I desperately needed some alone time to process my conflicting thoughts.  I think that I knew that my decision had been made, but there is a difference between making a decision and becoming comfortable with it.

David arrived not long after midnight.  He looked tired as he gave me a quick kiss and started to remove his clothes.

"How was you day?" he asked.

"Oh, it was fine," I said without elaboration.  "Yours?"

"It was okay, too," he said matter-of-factly.  "I'm sorry about the whole coffee shop thing."

"Don't worry about it," I said.  I had come to terms with the incident and the emotions that it had aroused within me.  "It gave me some insight into you...into 'us.'"

"What does that mean?" David, now naked, asked as he began to remove my shirt.

"Well, I learned that you're not really against public displays of affection; you just don't want to publicly display your affection toward me," I explained calmly.

"I could lose my job if we're found out.  You know how these things spread," he pleaded.

"No, I know.  Don't misinterpret what I said.  I really do understand your situation--our situation.  It's a big threat to you.  I know."

By now we were both naked, and we sort of automatically walked to our awaiting bed.  We got into the bed, and each took what had become our own respective sides.  How quickly couples seem to fall into these tiny routines of "his side and my side."  The familiarity was comfortable and should not be taken lightly.

"I'm not sure I can live or grow with big secrets any more."  There, I had finally given voice to the central tension in our relationship.  "I want to be able to publicly celebrate love.  I'm not ashamed, you know."

"You can't do that," he said, and I heard a tinge of panic in his voice.  "We have to keep this a secret."

"I know.  Don't worry about that.  I would never do anything to hurt you.  I love you, David."

"After you graduate we can become more open," he said, trying to assure me.

I noticed that he said, "more open" rather than simply saying "open."  It had not even occurred to me that, a year and a half down the road there would still be limitations.  It made sense, though.  Even then we would not be able to talk to others about our history as a couple.  That would have to be kept from public view forever.

"I don't think that works for me," I said, thinking aloud as much as talking to my lover.

"What are you saying?" he asked urgently.

"I don't know what I'm saying," I replied as honestly as I could.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"I don't know.  I really don't, David."

"We could slow things down for a while or put them on hold for a couple years," he said.  It felt like a negotiation.

"Maybe," I said.

We had not had many fights in our five months as a couple, but each time we came close to a serious disagreement David used the same approach that he tried now.  That is, he took my cock in his mouth and began to work his physical magic on me.

This time, though, because I was still quite soft, he altered his technique slightly.  He took my penis and my balls into his mouth at the same time.  It was something that I had not previously experienced.  His tongue actually lapped at that spot below my balls as his saliva coated my dick and scrotum.

His licking had its effect on me.  Too soon my cock had grown to the point where he could no longer handle all of my genitals at the same time.  By that time, my cock and balls were thoroughly soaked with his spit.

He surprised me by moving to his knees.  His left hand began to alternately massage my wet balls and to tug on my scrotum, as if to stretch it to its limit.  At first, his machinations felt strange, then a little painful, but I soon began to enjoy the variety of this new adventure.

David grasped my wet cock with his right hand, as he continued his play with my balls.  He pumped it slowly with remarkable expertise.  We had never given each other hand jobs, unless it occurred simultaneously with one of us fucking the other.  This time, David brought all of his concentration onto his manual efforts, and I was able to focus completely on my own surprisingly high level of pleasure.

I closed my eyes to block out the sensory distraction of the overhead light.  As soon as I did an image of a smiling Greg flashed across my consciousness.

Naturally I had fantasized about others at times during our previous love making.  Previously, though, those fantasies included David in the action as some anonymous man gave one or the other of us pleasure.  This time, though, David occupied no space in my mind, although it was really he who gave me the intense pleasure that I incorporated into my imaginary lovemaking with Greg.

They say that sex is as much about the mind as the body.  This night proved the truth of that.  My explosive orgasm was due as much to my memories of Greg as to the expert handling of David.  The two worked together to give me an amazing high.

Of course, in real life David and Greg could not coexist.  Ironically, David's loving hand had helped me reach the necessary decision.  I needed to abandon my secret life, despite the security that it provided, in order to pursue a fantasy, a hope, a dream, a belief that love should be open to express itself to all.

First, of course, I needed to reciprocate.  After all, sex follows certain rules regardless of what will occur afterward.

I reached for David's puffy but not fully erect penis.

"It's not necessary," he said.

"I want to," I said, although I wasn't sure that my statement was true.

"I don't think I could cum," he said.

"All used up for today?" I asked what may have sounded like sniping about his time spent with his friend and former lover, Damien.  I certainly didn't mean it that way, and I don't think David took it that way either.

David nodded.  Then he got off the bed and walked around the room turning off the lights.

As he climbed back into our bed, he said, "Should we drive home tomorrow?"

"If it's okay with you," I replied.

"Do you want me to sleep in the other bed?" he asked.

"No," I answered as I wrapped my arm around his naked body and pulled him into a tight hug.  

I loved this man, but I needed to open my life.  The closet and romance don't mix, I knew.

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