This story is an entirely fictional work of adult erotic fantasy, copyright Boy Mercury X 2018.
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MANTOWN by Boy Mercury X
There are a lot of things about us men that sadden me, like how women see us as such bastards, thought Jesse King. He chuckled, imagining his buddy Cal saying Which we are.
But seriously, he was feeling more than a little fed up with the state of things. His 39th birthday was coming up, and looking in the bathroom mirror to shave he wondered when this all happened. There he was with a mustache, glasses and his handsome jaw now softened by middle aged flesh. When was the last time he'd really thought about his appearance?
In college he knew he was hot. Hot enough to get laid nearly at will. He'd let things slide for sure. That's going to happen with a career, marriage and kids. His hair was more coarse. He wore a 38-inch waist and that was snug. But he just wore whatever Lyssa bought him. Re recalled his button fly jeans used to be 30 inches, and he remembered how good his slim hips looked in them. When his frat had a fundraiser carwashes they put Jesse out in front on the street shirtless, intending his Apollo's belt to draw in soccer moms and gay guys.
He stepped back to look at himself with honest eyes, He focused on his shirtless torso, trying to put out of mind Lyssa's clutter of lotions and cosmetics and hair care gear. Thicker than he used to be for sure with a thicker waist and some curve to his belly, But his pecs and shoulders were bigger now too so he was proportionate. And the mustache - on the dad side, yeah, but he was blessed with a good jaw that helped. No double chin, just a little more thick necked and jowly. He lifted an arm to flex his bicep, and that still looked good and would look better with more time in the gym. Unwrapping his towel he saw his cock was of course unchanged, a healthy 7 inches and two handsful of balls. Turning to the side he saw he still had the same slight slope to his lower back that gave a nice curve to the swell of his ass.
Not bad bro, he said to his mirror image, giving himself an upward chin nod. Fuck shaving today, he decided. He wrapped his towel snug and low, just over his pubes and turned into bedroom, where Lyssa was dressing.
She was the hottest girl in college, the one he had to have. Foregoing all others, as they said in the marriage vows. From behind he noted how she sure still had it. He ran a hand over her back, his palm against the silky blouse. She stopped mid-shoe and turned to him. Couldn't blame her - it'd been a long time since he made a move, especially in the morning.
"I was thinking, my birthday is coming up," he said with his side smile, the one that rove girls wild in college. "Maybe my gift could be a little --"
"Did you take care of the toilet?" she asked. The plumbing was screwed up and every use required at least two flushes. Three for Jesse with his full blown man dumps.
"No," he shrugged, wrapping one hand around her slim waist, "but --"
"Get that taken care of please," she answered with a slight sigh and returned to dressing. She glanced over her shoulder, adding, "You forgot to shave."
"Y'know, it's all bullshit," Jesse said to Cal, between hammer curls. "We get led around by our dicks for just a crumb, and then when we get it we roll over on our backs in gratitude. Like fucking us is such a big favor."
Cal wasn't much for talking at the gym. Jesse wasn't typically either, but he was stuck on something that day.
"I haven't jacked off for a week," he continued "Lyssa's always around. I'm going to have to steal a few minutes in the bathroom. That's my sex life now."
"Jesus, Jesse," said Cal, glancing around to see if anyone else was in hearing range.
"I'll tell you," Jesse said, holding the dumbbell up, feeling the strength in his bicep and forearm, "if men were in charge - really in charge - there's be fucking jerk-off stations around the city. Nice ones, right on the streets. Horny? Duck in, stroke one off, nice lubes in dispensers. Finish up, wash off, get back to your day."
"Sounds like you've thought about this a little," Cal said.
"When I was a kid I thought it would be so cool to be a man," Jesse continued. "Men seemed so... capable. You know? Like they could do anything they set their mind to."
Manhood had become so tarnished by sexual harassers, deadbeat dads, catcalling assholes. None of that was what Jesse thought it meant to be a man. He thought instead about the amazing things he'd known men to do. Fighting in just wars, building homes and communities, coaching and mentoring. In particular he often thought of a video he'd seem of two men pulling children in a flash flood. They were just ordinary men but they acted with such strength and purpose and endurance, without regard for their own safety.. It was idyllic, sure, but these things really happened. It seemed to him there was no beast so inspiring as a man untamed.
"But we're not even men," Jesse sighed. "We're boy children. When's the last time you bought your own clothes? Honestly?"
"I don't know man. Gloria and I were at the mall a few weeks ago --"
Jesse slammed his right hand fist into his left palm, interrupting Cal and drawing the attention of other members.
"My point exactly!" Jesse hissed. "My fucking point. Y'know even before we were married Lyssa started picking clothes for me. You men don't know how to dress, she'd say. And I didn't care so long as I was getting laid. Sure baby, whatever you want. Now I don't even know where my clothes come from. They just appear. Like a dog doesn't ask where its collar comes from. And I held up my throat for it, Sure baby, whatever you want."
Jesse showered, dressed and drove home. But the whole time he was caught up in his thought of all the men who do the right things generally speaking - decent guys who work hard, partner in raising kids and household work, have a social conscience - but who were nevertheless designated as virtual children. And why? Because they didn't meet the standards of women. They didn't talk enough about their feelings enough. They ate the wrong foods. They wanted sex too much. They were too loud, too hairy, too big, too smelly. Too male.
Of course men didn't meet the bar. It was designed for women. Women's values, tastes, biologies. Not men's. And in an age if diminishing gender roles, at a time when women and men could both be nearly anything they wanted, outside of giving birth there remained one naggingly inflexible set of roles for men and women. At the crux of it all was sex.
There was a vast and eternal war between the sexes, and although Jesse knew sex was less consequential for men than women it didn't feel like he had the upper hand. And, in fact, he didn't want the advantage in a war of the sexes. He didn't want the war.
That night he and Lyssa went out for dinner. It was their monthly date night. It was supposed to keep some spontaneity in the relationship, but to be honest it seemed like a chore to both of them. He knew they both hoarded conversation topics in the days leading up to date night to have something to say because they were expected to talk. He wished they could sit at a bar together the way he would with a guy shooting the shit, but he knew that wouldn't be romantic enough. She probably wished for something different too.
Over this particular dinner he was seized with an impulse of unusual frankness. "Do you ever think maybe men and women are just two different species that happen to be sexually compatible?"
"What's that about?" Lyssa asked in response.
Why don't you just say it, he thought. This is your life. You've blown a lot of the first half, do you want to blow the second half too? Time to man up.
He told her he thought the way men and women interacted was bullshit. He said the way women led men around by their dicks was fucked up, and the way men failed to meet women's emotional needs couldn't be satisfying for them either. He said the paltry sex life they had seemed too much for her and not enough for him. The words fell from his mouth without premeditation or even an agenda. Society and biology conspired against them both, he said, setting up a fucked up system in which men and women both were deadlocked in an endless war of contradictory urges and instincts. Didn't it seem like a formula that could only result in everyone's unhappiness?
"Well too bad you men can't just fuck each other," she responded.
Jesse looked up at her trying to discern whether she was joking or pissed off or honest. It was funny you could know someone so well and still have such blind spots. But it was just his kind of gaming he was done with. Why couldn't people just say what they really meant?
"All wars are about resources," she continued. "Land, oil, or in this case, sex. If you men could just fuck each other you wouldn't need my resource."
Jesse mulled this over. "It is too bad," he said, throwing back a Manhattan.
"Frankly Jesse, I could live just fine without the fucking. It's not such a treat for me," she said. "Find yourself a bunch of guys and start your Mantown. You have my blessing."
He recalled once when the boys were little and said they were running away from home. Lyssa said she'd miss them and made them each a PB&J for the road. Of course the boys were back home within half an hour. How they had chuckled about it when she told him about it in bed that night. Was she playing that same card now?
"A toast?" he asked, his face turning up into his most boyish smile.
"To Mantown," she replied, raising her glass by the stem.
"To Mantown," he agreed, tapping his heavy glass against hers lightly.
He maintained a neutral smile and even moved on to topics she'd enjoy. No point in continuing the conversation in which you may have been given the very thing you wanted.
The next day it took till 10:30 am to remember he'd even had the conversation. How much did he drink to say those things to Lyssa? He felt lucky she hadn't blasted him then and there.
Of course she said she didn't care if he found a man. They both knew how devoted he was pussy. You might as well tell an agoraphobic they were free to go anywhere in the world, knowing they'd never take you up on it.
He looked across the office at Terry. Terrell. He wondered how gay guys do it. It must be a sweet deal and maybe that's why Terrell rarely said a thing about his love life. Jesse had never thought about it before, had never been particularly curious. He would have guessed it was because Terrell was the only guy guy in their group, but maybe it was something else.
Hey man, Jesse messaged him across the office, forgot my lunch and have to go out. Can I treat you? Maybe I could pick your brain about a few things?
He watched Terrell's surprised face as the message hit his desktop. He saw the bewildered Terrell read and re-read the message. They'd never done a single thing together, the two of them alone, for the three years they'd worked together.
Terrell looked across at Jesse and shrugged. Jesse responded with open arms.
Sure. Vietnamese? Terrell responded. I don't do burgers.
Jesse pinged back an emoji of a thumbs up.
It figured Terrell didn't do burgers. The guy was fit as fuck, and always looked sharp. Jesse had chalked it up to good genes, not even thinking that there were choices involved and probably some work too. And Jesse could stand a few fewer burgers too.
At lunch Jesse let Terrell order first and got one of the same, a dish with chicken breast and rice noodles and vegetables in a sweet spicy fish sauce.
"So what's up?" Terrell asked, picking up a strip of chicken and noodle.
"Heh, I'm pretty obvious," Jesse chuckled, trying to mimic Terrell's deft use of his chopsticks.
"If you needed something from marketing I don't think you'd be buying me lunch," Terrell responded, sinking the meat into his mouth.
"This is awkward," Jesse began, "but I have questions and you're the only guy I know who, uh -"
"Is black?" Terrell asked.
"What? NO!" Jesse gasped. "Who's gay."
"Good," Terrell said, looping noodles around his sticks. "At least I don't have to humor your white curiosity."
"Straight curiosity okay?" Jesse asked.
"Oh yeah that's fine," Terrell answered, with a smirk.
"I've been having this, epiphany, I guess you could call it," Jesse explained, "about the battle of the sexes. And I wanted to know more from someone who I guess is just not even participating. I have these ideas about what it would be like if men just did what they wanted to do unencumbered by women's rules and I figured a gay guy would know."
Terrell laughed. Being gay did not mean he lived in an all-male world. But Jesse pushed, and Terrell rolled his eyes and said, "Look, okay there's stuff that goes on that gay guys don't talk about in public. But it's the stuff we all know about." He leaned in to whisper, "Like glory holes, pick up places, open relationships." He leaned back and resumed a normal speaking voice. "We don't all do that stuff but you have to know it happens."
"I want to know everything," Jesse said, spearing a piece of chicken with one stick after fumbling too long to satisfy his hunger.
"Well that's not exactly lunch talk," Terrell said, raising an eyebrow.
"Drinks then?" Jesse asked. "After work?"
"Come by my place if you want," Terrell said, shaking his head. "I can't talk about this shit in public. If the gays find out I'm telling our secrets I'll lose my membership card.
"Is that a thing?" Jesse asked. "Don't fuck with me bro. I'm just learning."
"Yeah there's a membership card," Terrell laughed. "We get 20% of at Crate & Barrel with it." He put a palm up to his face. "Y'know I'm doing this for two reasons only."
"What's that?"
"One, you're the only person in the office who calls me Terrell instead of Terry. And two, I had a crush on you for the three weeks after I started." He smirked. "Still want to get drinks?"
Jesse was shocked to hear that, and felt a warm glow spread over his cheeks. He couldn't help but smile as he answered, "Yeah, real sure."
"But Jesse, man," Terrell said, holding up a fork, "you can use this while you learn. You don't have to master everything the first try."
Jesse looked at the fork. If pushed he'd have to admit he didn't really know what he was doing with his sticks. But if he stuck with it he'd get the hang of it with time, and planned on returning for lunch there soon.
"So at this Folsom festival there's porn star booths and people walking around naked?" Jesse asked. "And it's just like normal."
"And all sorts of gear. Dog tail butt plugs. Whips. Everything," Terrell confirmed.
It had been an instructive evening, Jesse was glad to admit. It seemed so liberated hearing about this gay male world existing side by side with the world he knew, where sex was ordinary and open, not a bartered commodity.
He looked around at Terrell's apartment, and noted how clean and uncluttered everything was. Not minimalistic quite, but no frills either. Clean lines, sturdy pieces. It all made sense somehow, in a way his own home often didn't, as if he was just a guest in a place made for women and kids.
"Fuck," Jesse said. "When I was in college - I was a fucking stud, man. I feel like I took a fucking wrong turn and just figured it out."
"Not too late to change it up," Terrell said. "Live the life you want."
Jesse felt hot in his face again. Had it really been so long since he'd been flattered that he was getting off even on a guy saying this shit?
"Thanks man," he said to Terrell, clapping a hand on his knee.
"I'll tell you this just because I had too much," Terrell said, holding up his glass, "but you remember I said I had a crush on you for the first three weeks at work?" He looked to Jesse who nodded. "Well it might have been a little longer than that."
Terrell poured them each another drink and continued, "On the gay market you'd be a piece of hot real estate. Your clothes are a little, business-casual, but that's part of the hot dad thing you have going on. You're pretty built for a guy only sort of in shape."
Jesse winced at that, and said. "Ouch."
"No, listen," Terrell continued. "The scruff on your jaw when you don't shave is hot. Hell, your jaw alone... your jaw is perfection. But it's not just that stuff. You're assertive. You're disciplined enough to know when to move, when to hold back. You get things done. I've seen you in action. So you're not a college boy any more. You're a man. You think that's a loss, but you leveled up. You're still a stud. A fucking bull stud."
Jesse inhaled and then let his breath out through flared nostrils. His cock swelled to a half chub. Fuck, it felt good to hear that. Especially from a good looking guy like Terrell, with his fit physique and fashionable clothes. Dude didn't look hard up for dates, if he wanted them.
"I needed to hear that," Jesse said, feeling the rise in his chest. "Bro you don't know... She doesn't care. I swear to God, she said if I found a guy she wouldn't even care." He took a swig of his drink. "How do gay guys who are on the prowl, I guess spot each other. For hookups?"
"Oh y'know," Terrell laughed, "There's apps and shit. But there's ways you carry yourself, ways that show off the goods. Things that draw the eye to the package. You het guy are walking around thinking life is just about work and politics and PTA meetings or whatever you do. But there's this whole subtext going on just below the surface. You're just not looking for it."
Terrell held up his tumbler between them and said, "Here. Don't move your head, but focus your eyes on the glass."
Jesse did as instructed and Terrell asked, "What happened to me?"
"You went fuzzy," Jesse answered.
"Now shift your focus to me. And then tell me what you see."
"Okay now the glass is fuzzy and you're clear."
"There you go," Terrell explained. "Everything's here, it just depends on where your focus. Sometimes I focus on the mundane stuff. Sometimes I focus on the subtle cues. But it's all right here, Jesse. Now look again. Jesse. What. Do. You. See?"
There was something about how he said it's all right here.
Terrell was very handsome, Jesse realized. His angular jaw and how he licked his plush lips from time to time and the rich color of his skin. Even fully clothed it was evident how fit he was. In fact his clothes emphasized it, tailored tight in his armpits and groin as if to emphasize his full pecs and thighs. And his package. He wore a wide black belt with a flat panel buckle that looked liked riveted steel. One of those fashion things Jesse didn't track. Slick enough to wear to work, but sturdy, strong and simple. Completely masculine. And after a drink in dim light there was something undeniably sexual about it and the way it drew the eye to Terrell's bulge. Was it always that prominent, Jesse wondered, had he just never noticed?
"Whoa," Jesse said, sitting back and taking in his new perception of Terrell. He was like a panther, prowling and carnal.
Terrell knocked back the rest of his drink and said, "The signs are all there. Y'know?"
The air was heavy between them. Jesse wondered, could he do it? What would it be like to kiss Terrell? To cup that bulge - no, just think about the things he knew. Lips are lips, right? A tongue is a tongue. A hole is... well, not exactly a hole.
"So that crush you had," Jesse said, "how long did that last?"
Terrell laughed and rolled his eyes and said, "Ongoing."
Jesse leaned forward. It had been a long time since he'd put a move on someone other than Lyssa, and they knew each other's signs so well they barely had to flash them at all. He leaned in yet closer and reached out to wrap a meaty hand around Terrell's head, a sweat breaking out in his pits. Their lips pressed together and the last thing he saw as his eyes closed was Terrell's belt buckle.
It was funny to feel lips other than Lyssa's for Jesse. But it was so thrilling, and Terrell's lips felt amazing. They were so much more plush than Lyssa's, and equaled Jesse's in firmness and strength. But it was when their tongues met that Jesse's erection surged and he could hear his heart hammer in his ears.
Their kissing became more vigorous, more adventurous. Their teeth clashed, and Terrell penetrated Jesse's mouth with his own forceful tongue. Jesse had had a few aggressive women - hell, Lyssa was one once - but none that also had the physical force of Terrell behind the desire.
Encouraged, Jesse began to unbutton Terrell's shirt, roughly shoving his hand in under the fabric. Now that was really different. A hard male pec, harder than Jesse's own. Steely in fact, and covered in tight coils of hair but for the rigid nipples. But it was still just a chest, and even though it was harder than Jesse's he'd had his hand on his own before. It was doable. Jesse deliberately, eagerly, pinched a nipple with his stronger fingers, making Terrell gasp and Jesse's own cock gush a wet load of precum into his briefs.
With each tweak of his nipples Terrell quivered, open mouthed, and Jesse chuckled. Oh yeah, he knew how to do some tit play, he thought as he maneuvered his other hand up to work both sides of Terrell's chest. In response, Terrell grabbed Jesse's shirt by the column of button and pulled him closer to kiss again. He quickly popped each button, running his hands over Jesse's furry chest and belly. Then he buried his face on Jesse's chest, rooting out a nipple to latch onto to suck with his strong mouth and cutting white teeth.
Jesse dropped his head back driven by Terrell's insistent hands to let his torso be explored ans kissed and licked. He closed his eyes and ground his hips forward in his work slacks, sinking into the moment. He didn't know the last time he'd felt so worshipped, if ever. Even in college he'd been the aggressor more often, so eager to get his mouth on some girl's perfect titties and his cock in a hot wet taint. This was different. And good.
He thought he should be more responsive, more balanced in effort. But when he tried to sit up and engage Terrell nudged him back into place. So he rested back and felt his belt and the business casual slacks Lyssa bought for him be opened wide. He felt a little self conscious about his belly, especially in comparison to Terrell's hot body - something he'd never experienced with a woman. That all faded when Terrell planted his beautiful eager mouth on Jess's cock over his damp briefs.
Oh yes, God, let him do it, Jesse surprised himself to think. He'd already gone this far.
He made himself look down, readjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose. Don't do a thing if you can't face it. He could see the back of Terrell's head, his black coils of hair on top trimmed to a fade down to his thick neck, spreading out to broad shoulders. Really a man, and a built one at that. And all over Jesse's nearly forty year old body. Fucking score. He reached down to dig his thumbs into the elastic waistband and pull them forward, and Terrell took hold to pull them down, freeing Jesse's swollen cock.
Everything stopped and Jesse feared it was done when Terrell shook his head. But Terrell scoped out the pink erection, a fat seven incher, widest at the middle and crowning two jumbo egg sized balls. Terrell's body bounced as he chuckled, wrapping his long dark fingers around Jesse's meat and turning up to look him in the face.
"Fucking bull stud," Terrell laughed, "just like I said."
Jesse smiled back, so fond of Terrell, but gasped out loud as Terrell wrapped his lips around Jesse's cock and sucked the length into his mouth, the head tickling the back of his throat. Jesse let himself ease into it, feeling the hot wet mouth, so much bigger and hungrier than Lyssa's. As he sank into the sensation of being sucked off, he was aware of Terrell, unbuckling his own belt - that buckle Jesse had studied before - and undoing his own pants to free his own prick.
Jesse had a rush as he caught a glimpse of it. He'd seen other cocks, probably hundreds over the years of frats and gym showers. But never like this. Never hard and dripping. Never getting beat by the hand on same the body whose mouth was so devotedly sucking him off, and whose other hand was cradling Jesse's own hairy balls. And black skinned, unlike Jesse's, it looked so powerful and capable. He imagined briefly his own hand stroking it and his breath grew deeper.
Fuckkkk, Terrell was swallowing him hard and steady, with a gulping action that was sending spasms through Jesse's body. Maybe there really was something to the idea that men know what men like, because this was so fucking right. Jesse could thrust with his hips and Terrell sank down on his rising cock every time, meeting Jesse's pubes with those plush lips. When Jesse let a hand come to rest on the back of his bobbing head, Terrell groaned and swallowed hard to signal his okay.
Jesse ground his hips up and pushed Terrell's head down, the tender head of his cock butting up into the slick throat. He shuddered at the sound of Terrell near choking on his cock, but his face widening into a smile as Terrell came back down for more. He rubbed his hand over Terrell's head, from the wooly top to the fade, patting it and shoving down again to meet his thrust.
"Oh yeah baby... suck that dick," Jesse growled. "Swallow my whole fucking cock."
He thought he'd be embarrassed to say those things, but it felt right, like he was shedding more layers that let him get deeper into his buddy's throat where it was so good and warm and tight. He wanted to bury himself there, and his cock was doing a good job of it.
Terrell was stroking himself fast, one knee on the sofa with his face glued to Jesse's crotch, arching his back and raising his ass high. Jesse sure as fuck didn't know all the cues, but he knew he was being told something. And he could see the back of Terrell's pants riding back over the swells of his ass, like a dark cave beckoning him in.
Jesse gulped, looking into the shadowy invitation in Terrell's pants. It was just an ass maybe, but it was man ass. Fuck, what was he doing here?
Terrell pulled him back into the moment by gulping down, drawing Jesse deeper into his throat. Yeah baby, that's it, Jesse heard in his head. His hand trailed down Terrell's muscular back, his fingers sliding into the tent between the waistband and asscrack. It was just an ass, and Jesse would do about anything to feel that gulp on his cock again. It just took a shift in focus.
His hand ran between the firm muscles on either side, good lord so much harder than Jesse's ass. What kind of squats did this fucker do? And between them the skin was damp and hot. And Jesse's fingers traced down, into some more tightly curled hairs and an indent, oh fuck, that pucker. Jesse's heart raced again and he could feel a wave of precum pushing through his shaft and into Terrell's mouth where it was sucked out.
Yeah yeah, Jesse thought, feeling unexpectedly close.
His nearness to cumming must have shown because Terrell lifted his mouth to say "Give it to me Jesse," before diving back down. His voice was raspy with so much mucus.
Terrell worked Jesse's cock harder and faster and Jesse responded by wetting his fingers in his mouth - the same fingers that had just been against a man's asshole - and pressing them back again, making Terrell moan. Jesse felt his whole cock sinking deeper in with every thrust, could feel Terrell's hunger and how he wanted Jesse, wanted a belly full of Jesse's cum. It was more than Jesse could take. His cock swelled up and without warning flooding Terrell's mouth and gushed down his throat.
Take all that fucking cum, Jesse thought, hearing Terrell choking on the hot blast. But he didn't have to say a word. Terrell wasn't just taking Jesse's load, he wanted it. He was sucking out every bit of Jesse's rank semen, taking it into himself. It felt like it kept going, and Jesse bucked his hips to push it all out into Terrell.
Jesse was still huffing and gasping as Terrell's hips pumped into his own fist. Terrell came too, intensifying his sucking and swallowing of Jesse's load. Knowing how much Terrell got off on his load hit Jesse with another wave of pleasure. He thought he should reach down and touch Terrell's oozing cock, to reciprocate in some way, but didn't. As the cum drained from his balls his focus shifted back into place.
Oh fuck, what did he just do?
He was still reeling when Terrell pulled up on his knees bringing their faces together to kiss. Terrell's mouth was slick with a thick mix of saliva and Jesse's own cum. When his tongue slid into Jesse's mouth he sloshed in a load of the stuff. Jesse froze for a second, but that was the point of this after all. He was a man and could do anything he set his mind to. He opened wide to receive more, sucking the physical essence of maleness off Terrell's tongue and swallowing.
Jesse washed up in Terrell's bathroom, the door open, the two joking about work and which coworkers were the biggest assholes. It was like nothing had even happened, and that was cool.
In the mirror Jesse looked against at himself critically, shifting his focus. He looked at his dumbass tortoiseshell glasses. His mustache. His tidy haircut. How did he become so much like this? Incrementally, he supposed, bit by bit. It would take increments to leave it behind.
"I'm thinking of shaving my `stache," Jesse said to Terrell, drying his hands on a thick towel.
"Don't you dare," said Terrell. "You have that whole hot dad thing going."
Jesse took in the flattery and bunched up his manly chin. He looked around again at Terrell's place, the subtle differences in style from Jesse's own clothes, furniture, life.
"Where do you get a belt like that?" he asked. "What is that thing even called?"
"This?" Terrell responded. "Got it at Butch Bloom. It's a ratchet belt. No holes, it slides in and stays in place - see?"
Terrell pulled the flat buckle against the leather, securing it. He watched Jesse's eyes on it, studying.
"Ah here," Terrell said, sliding the belt off, looping it in his hand and holding it out to Jesse.
"Oh no man, I can't take your belt," Jesse demurred.
"Go on," Terrell said, "keepsake."
Jesse doubted he could even get it around his waist. But seeing it nested there in Terrell's hand it looked so perfect, and offered so freely.
"Thanks man," Jesse said, accepting the gift.
Over dinner he was agreeable. More than agreeable. He joked with the boys and even Lyssa. They talked about their respective days. Everything was good. Jesse's thing with Terrell had taken the edge off, and he thought this was how it should be all the time.
After dinner Jesse thought about the other men he knew who, like him, might want out of the war of the sexes. He wanted to share with them the good feeling he had right now, and the news of another way. There was Cal, his next door neighbor and workout buddy. Other guys at the office. His sister in-law's boyfriend Matt. He compiled a list, not in writing, but in his head.
He didn't know if he should include Terrell, who had already said he'd had a crush on Jesse. That was a complication to Jesse's notion of sex free of entanglements. The still forming idea was not to trade in the war of the sexes for a different war, but to end the war. He wanted to free men and women from their expectations and needs - or what they had believed were needs - of each other. At the same time he couldn't exclude gay men. This would take some consideration.
He envisioned a small community of men coming together, building something for themselves and each other. Something good and affirming. He envisioned it growing from its humble beginnings, from a town to a city, to a state and a nation, to half the world. But it had to start somewhere.
He later sat in the bathroom on the toilet, not using it as anything but a seat for contemplation in the only private space in the house. He could hear the sound of Lyssa and their teens in the surrounding rooms. He mulled over his list, holding the belt Terrell gave him, flipping the metal buckle up and down.
He held the buckle out at arm's length in the bathroom decorated to Lyssa's specifications. Her flowered wallpaper, her towels, her scented hand soap. By an act of will he adjusted his vision to focus on the buckle with perfect clarity, and let all of Lyssa's things fade. The buckle was functional but handsome and durable, made of strong stuff, and it felt good in his hand. He'd have to thank Terrell again for it.
"Okay then," he said out loud. "Mantown. Population: one."
So far.
TO BE CONTINUED