Reunion at Forty-eight--section

By Mi Wisco

Published on Oct 18, 2024

Gay

Reunion at Forty-Eight chapter 5 By Ezra Randle

Five Months Later

The emails were erratic over the next four months, mostly discussing Ellie's condition. They skirted around the possibility of seeing each other again but when he mentioned he'd be at a convention in Madison in early October, staying overnight, Ben responded.

"Dan. I think Thursday will work. Ellie showing some improvement and may go back to work next week. Remission begins at one year--seven months to go."

Ben was very distracted that evening, eager to receive an extended massage and to quickly complete the sexual moment, but reluctant to say much. Dan hadn't pushed the conversation either, content to feel Ben's body in the quiet of the room, not caring that the rub had not been reciprocated. Nor did he feel upset when Ben dashed off after little more than an hour of companionship, always aware that Ellie's condition had to be paramount in Ben's reality. While the evening felt incomplete, it was, in most respects, simply a variation of the summer meeting. Neither one of them had an interest in discussing the repercussions of what they seemed to be plunging into--or the courage to do so. They were teenagers whose bodies were racing ahead of their thoughts, and, in many ways, this abandonment of restraint and slipping into this thicket of sensuality as a fifty-year-old was a complement to what he had done a generation ago when he'd begun to explore the wonders of Jenny's body. A compulsion pushed him forward, as he acted out what was left of the teenage desires that had lain fallow for so many years.

The emails diminished after that, and his inclination was that he was now confronting Ben's latest strategy for ending the liaison. Though this time Ben was certainly letting him crash in a more civil way. In the months that followed, he made himself adjust to this change, letting his cognition catch up to his lust. What his understanding had been telling him all along was proving accurate. The wisest direction was to discontinue the connection, to follow Ben's silent lead. He questioned how satisfying their time together had been in these three meetings. Even though he knew that second and third meetings had been exceptional. For both of them. His desire to touch Ben was still acute if he let it surface.

This disjointedness had become more acute as the days lingered through the winter vacation and into the second semester at work. The more he coldly sorted through the details of the encounters, the more frankly he seemed to arrive at the same conclusion. A vast plain of discrepancy existed between what he'd always fantasized about loving a man--and in his mind, Ben had always been the focus of such a love--and what had evolved as he attempted for the first time in his life to break into this secret world of passion. Though their affection for each other on many levels was genuine, they were two greenhorns cut lose with a wild urging. They had followed each other's lead in the second and third meetings, though Ben had always been the leading orchestrator. The heat could easily arise in his groin if he let himself drift back to the moments in the motel rooms. He still felt a type of compulsion to hold the forbidden fruit, but he had little comprehension about how to peel it and taste the juices so that he could walk away with the satisfaction he had always anticipated would automatically follow. They needed more time together for that to happen. The fantasies had become real and were driven by real biological cravings, but the maneuverings they shared had been little more than those of two friends attempting to discover something that was, perhaps, undiscoverable and unattainable for them.

Just when he had given up on hearing from Ben, he was startled to read his email at work in late February.

Will be in your neck of the woods next week. My turn to get the motel. 3:00 sound good? Won't be able to stay longer than a few hours as I've got to get back home and take Ellie to her sister's birthday later in the evening. She's still free of cancer after nine months.

When Ben opened the door to the motel room and exuberantly said, "Danny, good to see you," Dan was overwhelmed by the joy that resonated throughout Ben's facial expressions and in his voice. Ben opened his arms and pulled him in totally dispelling any fears Dan had that the purpose of the meeting was to end the relationship. This level of affection sent him back to their days of early college when their appreciation for each other was real and contagious. Ben gently pushed him back, still grasping his shoulders. "How have you been?"

"Good. Been a while. Surprised you emailed, to be honest. Wasn't sure you wanted to continue this."

"Things got very complicated around the holidays."

"Ellie OK?"

"Still headed toward remission. Holding up very well. But it was overwhelming with so much family around from mid-December until just after New Year's. Then Ellie's mother came up from Florida in mid-January and stayed for a month. Been busy at work, too. But I'm really glad to see you."

"Me, too," Dan said.

"Want a beer?"

"Yeah."

Ben opened the window and pulled in two beers from the window ledge. Dan eyeballed several empties on the bedside table, which made him reflect on the source of Ben's joy. They sat on chairs, Ben slumping down in the comfortable one, Dan upright in the rigid desk chair while he sipped the beer. "So, tell me more about Ellie's condition?"

"She's been responding to chemo like the docs say she should be. She's good. Hey, Danny?"

"Yeah."

"No offense. But can we not talk about her this time."

He nodded. "Glad you brought the beer. Hits the spot."

"Know what I did a few weeks ago?" Ben said.

"What?"

"Got a massage from a professional?"

"How was it?"

"Almost as good as yours," Ben said.

"Shit."

"I mean it. You're pretty talented."

"Man or woman?"

"Powerful guy. Really worked me over. Didn't have your loving touch though," Ben said.

Dan smiled. "I appreciate the compliment."

"That's one reason I wanted to see you again. Thought maybe you'd give me another rub."

"Be my pleasure. Whenever you're ready," Dan said.

"Let me take a leak, first."

Dan took off his shoes and sweater, then looked into the mirror and saw much of his doubt slipping away and a layer of delight begin to surface in the turn of his mouth. The toilet flushed and Ben returned undressed to his undershirt and the pair of red briefs Dan had left in the shower. He tossed off the shirt and spun around showing off his body in the briefs grinning and with his arms outstretched again. "They almost fit. What do you think?"

"I like the snugness on you. I'll bet your big balls feel a bit trapped in them."

"Yup. I only wear them when I want to think of you and what we did." Then he approached Dan again. "Give me another embrace, buddy."

He could feel himself sink into Ben's arms more deeply than just a few minutes earlier, and their first kiss seemed to touch something in him that he could only remember from nights he spent with Ben when he was nineteen imagining his love and desire taking flight. He felt himself drifting away from the motel room. Early morning along the Chippewa River, the two of them perched on boulders lining the shores, shirtless, grateful for the breeze singing across the band of water. They had stayed up all night drinking and laughing in the oppressive humidity. Weary of thought and word, they blissfully watched the pastel light penetrate the five in the morning skies in the July heat that promised to reach nearly one hundred degrees later that day. He felt awash again, swimming in the river waters of the predawn, desperate for sleep but exhilarated at being this close to him. These same temptations had been present then, camouflaged inside his confused sexuality, but now the weight that had held those surges within him for years, boulders as overwhelming as those they sat upon along the river, began to shift and loosen. Soon the boulders, miraculously, were floating down the river and he was holding Ben as they stood chest high in the cool waters. He didn't want to come out of the river, but Ben's voice brought him out of the spell. "You ready to work me over?"

"Sure. Lie down while I get out of my clothes."

When he looked up after dropping his khakis on the chair, he saw Ben flat on his stomach, completely naked. He took off the rest of his clothes except for his orange briefs and knelt on the bed alongside Ben and let his hands begin to slowly and lightly touch Ben's fleshy backside. Before long, he was digging deeply into Ben's shoulders and mid-back muscles. A golden liquid seemed to flow out of his fingers allowing his hands to glide into and out of the muscles. He worked up a sweat, realizing he had never been this immersed when giving a massage. His perspiration, dripping off his forehead and from his arms, added to the ease of the massage. Occasionally, Ben would moan or even wince at the force of his arms and hands, but when he asked if he had penetrated too deeply, Ben simply grunted, "More. I'm at your mercy."

He let his hands drift to Ben's arms, then to his ass and legs, working the muscles there as well. When he began to slow down, he eased his hands from Ben's shoulders to his waistline then back up for several more minutes. He looked over at the clock and was startled to see that forty-five minutes had elapsed. He tapped Ben lightly on his back and stretched out alongside him, "You still awake?"

"Barely. What did you fucking do to me?" Ben said.

"Guess I got a bit carried away."

"Thanks for the ride. It's like I just took the biggest exhalation of my life. I don't know if I can move."

"You don't have to."

"When you first started out, Willy was pretty stiff, but your hands on my back shriveled him down."

"I don't know if I wanted to do that."

Ben laughed. "He's coming back."

Then he turned on his side toward him. "Come here."

They kissed again, as deeply as he felt his hands had been imbedded in Ben's shoulders, and Ben pulled him toward his chest. Ben's hands slid his briefs past his ankles as he descended into a state of ecstasy that sent him back to the river diving deeply into a narcotized cloud of purple dawn. His hands ran through the hair and underneath each hair that covered Ben's belly and groin, but it was unlike any touching of skin he had ever known. As their hands took hold of each other's cock, they continued kissing with wild determination. The passion of their tongues along lips and whiskered chins and necks brought his rigid cock to heightened tension. And now, the slippery touch of Ben's hands to his swollen glans lathered in precum pulled the juices from him. He did little more than that to Ben and felt him surging against his belly as well. The moments of completion had lasted less than five minutes, but no session of lovemaking he'd ever experienced had been so complete. They had been far less adventurous than their two previous meetings, but somehow this was more deeply felt.

When he woke, thirty minutes later, he was still in Ben's arms, and the slickness of their juices had dried binding them together. He looked up and Ben smiled, wide-eyed. "You fell asleep in my arms."

"I don't remember falling off, only the pleasure of our touch."

"I don't get much of this anymore," Ben said.

He didn't know what to say since Ben had said he didn't wanted to discuss Ellie. He felt sure this was likely the direction of their conversation now that the sexual tension had been eased. It seemed only natural despite Ben's admonition, but Ben took a detour. "Do you remember Orvy Watson?"

"A little bit. Some guy in our class, right?"

"Right. Just one of nearly two hundred, so you likely wouldn't know him if you saw him."

"Would I have met him at reunions?"

"Unlikely. He's only been to one."

"What about him?"

"When I was growing up on the north side, he lived just down the street and we were buddies in grade school. We both went to Jefferson Elementary, then to Eisenhower Junior High. But something happened at Eisenhower. I can't remember which year, but probably seventh grade. I met new friends and left Orvy behind. Then kids, me and my buddies included, started giving him a lot of shit. It continued throughout eighth grade and into early high school. He wasn't developing into the typical male of the species. He was smaller and frailer. A bit of a loner. Seemed kind of effeminate. He was good in band, played the trumpet. Maybe you remember him from concerts--he was first chair by his sophomore year. Really created a beautiful sound blowing out of his little frame."

"His face is coming back a bit. Didn't he have a nickname?"

"Yeah. `Orvy the Queer'."

"Really."

"Yeah. I gave it to him. In seventh grade. We were all feeling so cool going through puberty, pimping the kids who hadn't started. Orvy must have made the big change a little later. When they made us undress and shower for P.E. class, Orvy was nowhere to be seen. While the rest of us were showing off our developing penises. For whatever reason, despite the fact that Orvy and I used to be close friends, I had a need to be a prick. Maybe to hide the shame of having been his friend in the neighborhood. So I told my buddies he was queer. There was no reason at all for doing it. Made no sense. All anyone had to ask was how did I know, but my bluster carried me through."

"What happened to him?"

"I befriended him again senior year, in a minor way, when you and I were in choir. He wasn't a singer, but he was around the music rooms quite a bit. I never apologized and I don't think Orvy ever knew exactly what I'd done to his reputation. But by late high school, it was pretty clear to me that Orvy was queer, to use the language of the day. I didn't know what that meant, of course, except that it was the most serious failing that any of us could have. At the time, my hormones were jumping all over several girls especially during those last two years of high school."

"Do you know where he is now or if he turned out gay?" Dan said.

"Yeah. Here's the amazing part of the story. Orvy came to our fifteen-year reunion. I barely talked to him and wouldn't have even recognized him except for his name tag. But he ended up talking to Ellie for about two hours that night. She hadn't wanted to go, but I dragged her along anyway, so she was probably feeling just as alienated that night as Orvy. They talked all night, and he basically told her his life tale. After high school, he went to live in the Twin Cities, playing a little trumpet in oldies bands while he was going to the university. Fifteen years out of high school, he's working in accounts for a big music supply store. He told Ellie what a good friend I was to him in grade school. How we played endless outdoor games. How we slept out in a tent in his backyard in the summer during our grade school years. He was puzzled and hurt that our friendship ended back in junior high, but figured out why in the years since high school."

"What did he figure?"

"He knew he was gay from an early age. Knew that people like me couldn't deal with that. He was sad about how I dumped him at Eisenhower when he really needed a buddy the most, then pissed off about it high school, but now he was over it. It was just a coincidence that he started talking to Ellie that night. But when he found out who she was, he wanted to tell her everything about himself. And Ellie being a great listener made that easy. She told me he seemed genuinely happy about how his life had evolved. He was in a relationship, even though that was still the stone-age for coming out of the closet."

"But you never talked to him that night other than saying hello?"

"Nothing more than what-are-you-up-to kind of shit. I was probably still thinking of him as Orvy the Queer. That's about where I was in the early 90s. Here's the kicker. Orvy's never been back to another reunion for all the sensible reasons you could imagine. But every year at Christmas time, he sends Ellie a card updating her on what's going on in his life. She always sends him one back. But they've never seen each other or even spoken to each other since that reunion. It was like a magical connection between them. This past Christmas, when Ellie sent out her Christmas cards, she included a short photocopied letter that discussed her health issues. She couldn't bear writing all that out in each card. When Orvy got her card and the note, he sent the nicest, warmest get-well greeting. I tell you, Danny, it brought tears to my eyes."

"Where's he living now?"

"Still in St. Paul. Doing fine."

Ben paused and Dan could feel Ben's throat catch a little as he continued. "Every card he's ever sent has only been addressed to Ellie, but the last line in every note is always something like, `Give my best to Ben. I have great memories of our times together'."

"Did you ever tell Ellie about the nickname?"

"Couldn't bear to."

"Did Orvy know about the nickname?"

"Had to, but he never mentioned it to Ellie. He was too good and decent for that. He had to know I had a big hand in the whole thing. If Orvy knew where I was right now, he'd be laughing his ass off."

"Maybe."

"Why wouldn't he?" Ben said.

"Maybe he'd figure what's to laugh at."

"I guess you're right. Besides, neither one of us is queer like him." Then Ben looked at the clock. "I've got about forty-five minutes. Can we make love again?"

"You know, what just happened when we jacked each other, kissing the entire time was amazing."

"Not that adventurous. But in terms of loving each other it was the best."

They kissed again, playing with each other's nipples as they did. "I'm getting hard again, Danny. You?"

"Yeah. What do you want us to do?"

"Cuddling is what I need more than anything. I get so lonely these days. So, just hold me cause I'm not sure when this will happen again."

Ben was weeping now. "Sorry. I wanted this to be all joy. But the sorrow and the joy are so intertwined one triggers the other."

"Something with Ellie?"

"Yes and no. She's still doing OK, like I said earlier. But nothing is like it used to be. And it has very little to do with us not having sex. We're not like we used to be in so many ways. We're still in love, but everything's changed."

Ben rested his head on Dan's chest. "Just hold me. I don't care if my cock gets hard or not. Just make me feel whole again until I leave."

Ben's crying turned into sobs then quieted until it felt like he was sleeping. Surprisingly, he spoke again. "I'm just resting. What I said before, about making love?"

"Yeah. I'm not holding it against you," Dan said.

"I meant it. When I have time to let myself feel it, it's solid. I'm not making this shit up. It's like a cool bed on a hot day. And it warms me when I'm feeling desolate. But it never lasts long. There's too much other shit. And I don't know if I can keep it going with you. It's too complicated. But right now, it's so very, very good for me."

"Your forty-five minutes are up."

"I know. Shower with me, OK?"

They soaped each other, kissing on a few occasions. When Ben touched his ass, he said, "Didn't get around to this again. Except when you massaged me and fingered me a bit with the oil. That was nice."

"I was trying not to be overly sexual," Dan said.

"You weren't, but I still couldn't stop thinking about the last time."

"Maybe one time, one of us will let the other one fuck. Or maybe take turns. To complete what he haven't done. But, as I said earlier, sometimes the simple stuff is the best. Was tonight," Dan said.

They dried off and dressed.

"You OK to drive after the beer?"

"I only had a few. There's some more on the window ledge if you want one."

"I've had my fill."

"Then take them with you. I don't need any more booze in the house," Ben said.

Ben looked around the room and checked his pockets. "Guess that's everything. If I didn't have to go, we could spend the night. Something else we haven't tried."

Dan watched him reach for the door knob, but then he turned back. "One last hug."

He pulled Dan into his arms and both of them pulled each other tight. Ben kissed him on the cheek. "A night to be remembered," Ben said.

And then he was gone. He relaxed on the bed, not wanting to leave, and closed his eyes. His mind took him back to high school, trying to remember the face of Orvy Watson, to the continual barrage of "fag" jokes that erupted in so many classes and social situations throughout high school and even into college. He could only nod in admiration at someone like Orvy who had turned out to be so aware of his dirty little secret and so resilient in the face of it. Orvy must have worked through the shit and the confusion, while he was just beginning to analyze it after burying it for so long. He understood it was not that simple. He had other urges. His relationship with Jenny was not a mistake. He knew he wouldn't have been able to mask his true sexual dimension for that long and feel so satisfied in all but brief moments during their years together if his desires for her were not authentic. But there was always a second need, and now, for the first time, after a few hours like this, it began to make some sense to him.

His memory took him back to three or four moments with Ben during their two years of intense friendship when something like what had just happened might have blossomed. He began to feel, once again, the intense love that had captured him during that time, that extraordinary desire to be alone with one other person--a sensation he had only felt with Jenny, especially during their two year courtship. The love he had for Ben thirty years earlier was fool's gold to a great extent. He never, for an instant, felt it solidly in his hands. The number of times he actually embraced Ben or lay close enough to him to feel intimacy were so few that they were mostly erased from his recollections. But the intense desire to want just that, in all the ill-defined form in which it had materialized, had been real. For the first time in this brief affair, he felt something like that emerge again. This time he was living out the urgings he had been too frightened to explore.

He turned on his side and glanced out through a slit in the draperies and watched the fading light of the early spring day through the still dormant trees. He imagined a whispering breeze touch his shoulders, run down his spine, through his legs and back to his abdomen. He willed his eyes shut again feeling the tilting of the stone in his gut that smothered his darkest secrets. The weight slipped aside and the love he had felt years ago for Ben slid out.

Next: Chapter 6


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