They say that one knows exactly when it is time to say goodbye. They say our intuition tells us the precise moment to let things go.
Denton- I slept for the rest of the way, after my embarrassing outburst, I had no desire to be social. I listened to the hushed whispers of the two guys at the back, probably laughing at me, and Glass uncharacteristically humming to some Top 40 station on the way to the country.
I didn't think about anything. I just closed my eyes and slept. Time stopped and when Glass woke me up what seemed like a minute later, the sun was setting and the car was parked in front of a large cabin style mansion.
I couldn't believe it at first. The place looked gorgeous from where I was sitting. It was two, maybe three stories, with a balcony and a veranda that skirted the entire house. It looked like a huge picture of Southern Homes magazine or something.
"We're staying in that?" I asked breathlessly.
"All weekend," Glass said with a smile. "Welcome to how real men camp Denton."
Charles- I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. I didn't even bother socializing with the other guys on the team or the diving coach who I'd promised to be friendly with after lights-out. Instead, I showered my problems away with all of the hot water the hotel had to offer and crashed and before I knew it, I was fast asleep.
Jesse- Brooklyn was coming over and I was nervous. What was I going to tell him? What should I tell him? The truth? That was the basic moralistic answer. But what about what I wanted? What did I want? I wanted Matt and me to work, that was for sure. Matt made me feel better than anything I could ever imagine. And the drive wasn't far- he was willing to make it to see me. The thing is, I loved Matt. Did I love Brooklyn? How could I even begin to start thinking that maybe I did when I'd known for him all of two weeks? Did he love me? According to Charles he might be having stronger feelings for me than he did two weeks ago. And where did Charles fit into this? Where he and Brooklyn friends? They had to know each other because Charles knew Brooklyn was upset. But how?
I looked at my watch at a quarter to eight and still hadn't made a decision; in fact I still hadn't decided if I really even had to make a decision. For all I cared, I could keep screwing the both of them and not give a fuck about anything else.
When Brooklyn knocked on the door, I ushered him in and offered him a drink, like always.
"I guess we have the place to ourselves this weekend," he said nervously.
"Yeah. Actually, I'm not sure where Zach is, but Charles will be gone all weekend," I said coming back into the living room with two beers. I sat on the couch across from Brooklyn. "We need to talk."
"Ok," he said, sipping his beer. I looked him ready to say what I knew I had to but couldn't. Looking at him sitting next to me, sexy with his hair all shaggy and curly and his five o'clock shadow creeping in, I couldn't do it.
"I really like you," I choked finally.
"I like you a lot too," he said. "That's why I need to tell you something too."
"Ok, well you first," I said thankful for the few moments I had to think. He put his drink down on the table and leaned in and kissed me like he always did. Then he backed away and looked me straight in the eye like he had something unbelievably important to tell me.
"I don't know the best way to say this so I'm just gonna say it," he said making me nervous.
"Ok," I said.
"But you have promise not to freak out," he said.
"Umm... I'll try, but that's all I'm saying," I said. He was really making nervous. He coughed out of nervousness. I couldn't even begin to imagine what he possibly had to say that had him and I both so worked up.
Charles- I woke up at around midnight to find my hotel room quiet. The guy I was rooming with was on the junior varsity team, a step above the freshmen team I was still swimming for. He was sound asleep when I got up. I just lay in bed, trying not to think, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't help thinking that Jesse and Brooklyn were in my apartment having sex and I was here, thinking about it. I couldn't help thinking that I would have to listen to both Brooklyn and Jesse tell me how wonderful their weekend was and pretend like I didn't care, like I hadn't been thinking about it all night. I was beyond frustrated.
After about an hour of useless thinking, I looked at my watch that read 1:30 and decided to walk around the 24-hour lobby in search of either a drink or a treadmill, both a sufficient escape for the pent up energy and anger I had inside. If it weren't so late, I would have knocked on Coach Danny's room. Instead I took the elevator to the lobby and found the front desk.
A guy about two or three years younger than me was sitting at the desk watching late night black and white comedies on one of the smallest TV screen's in existence. As I passed by slowly, I caught him looking up at me for a few extra seconds. I walked on a little, intending to find the bar that was probably closed, but abruptly decided I would give it a shot.
"Hey," I said nonchalantly doubling back towards the desk.
"Hey," he said not taking his eyes off me. "It's pretty late. Don't you have a swim-thing tomorrow?" He was so cute.
"Yeah, but I couldn't sleep," I said. I took this moment to stretch out my arms in a fake yawn, showing off some abs. The kid didn't take one eye off of me.
"Oh," he replied. "You wanna watch some TV?" It was an offer I couldn't refuse at that point, so I sat right down in the stool he offered, and actually watched the black and white I Love Lucy rerun for a few minutes before I began feeling a little frisky.
"How old are you kid?" I asked with a sense of flirting in my voice.
"18," he said. "My dad owns this hotel. He makes me work the red-eye shift on the weekends to 'keep me grounded.'" The impression of his dad was cute. He was cute, in that barely-legal-trying-to-be-older-than-I-am kind of way. He looked at me. I smiled at him. Then he made the move. His hand moved up my thigh the way only expert seducers know how. He leaned in close to my ears and whispered, "He has no idea what kind of work I do during all these late hours." He stressed the word work as he drew dangerously close to package. I gasped for a deep breath when he finally made the kill by kissing my neck and blowing hot breath in my ear. I wanted the kid right then and there.
Enjoying the sense of danger, of taboo sex in public, albeit in a deserted lobby, we made out furiously right there at the desk until I pulled his head back and asked, "Is there a place we can go?"
He just smiled and looked at me, stood and before I could say 'Hilton' he was on his knees before me. "Down is the only place I know," he said with a smile that made him look sexily boyish. Something about the youth, the charm, the innocence drove me over the edge and I had my pants down in seconds.
Jesse- "I want us to move in together," he said without blinking, looking me straight in the eye. I was floored. He was beaming, waiting for me to respond. I couldn't.
"Move in together?" I asked breathless.
"I know it sounds crazy, I really do. But we're so freaking busy. If we move in together we'll have time to see each other. Plus you won't have to live on campus," he was getting prematurely excited.
"I can't do that," I said.
"Why not?"
I was fishing for a reason why not. "I have a housing contract."
"So shift it. The housing department won't care. They'll find someone else to take your spot next semester," he was still grinning from ear to ear. It scared me. "Come on, Jesse. It will be fun."
He was scooting in on me on the couch, no longer nervous. I dodged his kiss and stood up, backing away.
"You're crazy, Brooklyn," I said. "This is crazy."
Here I was, planning to dump him tonight and instead I was contemplating moving in with him. What was crazy wasn't the request. It was the fact that I might actually be considering saying yes.
"What would Charles say?" I asked.
He paused, thinking. "He'd be bummed, sure, but he'll get over it. They'll find him another roommate in no time. Just say you'll do it."
I looked him. He'd obviously thought about this for a while. He had his curly hair ruffled and surrounding his head in that sexy, golden blond, god-like halo. His perfect face was smiling up at me. I didn't know if I could do it or not. I knew I shouldn't, and that it would probably be a really bad idea. At the moment, I couldn't imagine moving in with Brooklyn turning out any way but bad. But on the other hand, it would be exciting.
Without making up my mind, I sat back on the couch next to him and kissed him, searching his mouth for the answer I couldn't find in my head.
Denton- My room was right next to Glass' and after searching the adjacent bath and walk-in closet I prayed to God that one day I would be able to live in a house like this. It was sheer amazing.
We didn't waste any time enjoying the place. As soon as we were settled and packed, the four of us were enjoying the cool night breeze with daiquiris in the hot tub.
"So Denton, do you still hate camping?" Mitchell asked me.
"This, my friend, is not camping. This is luxury," I replied followed by a long sip of my drink.
Glass hadn't told me what Mitchell and Dylan's relationship with each other were. I didn't know if they were sleeping together like Glass and me or just Big/Little, so I spent most of the hot tub conversation trying to figure it out, to no avail. After about an hour of drinking and realizing these hot guys had no interest whatsoever, and furthermore were planning to cruise for girls in town tomorrow night, Glass excused himself to his room immediately followed by myself.
I went upstairs to my lavishly decorated oversized bedroom for the weekend. While I was doing a poor job of unpacking my things into the walk in closet, I heard some yelling coming from the room next door, Glass' room. I inched towards the wall to see if I could make out what he was saying, but the words were muffled. I only heard his voice, so I assumed he was on the phone with someone, probably somebody back at the Tribe Mansion. I strained my ears to make out what he was yelling, but all I got was "Make sure he is done for when I get there... I do not care what you have to do... then fix it." He got quite for a second as if he had lowered his voice and then he said, sending a chill down my spine from the other side of the wall "If he is still alive when I get back on Sunday, trust that I will kill you instead with my bare hands."
Charles- He had his legs hanging over my shoulder, his back resting on the desktop, putting his ass at perfect level for me to plow through. I was clutching his hard pecs with all my might, using his upper body as leverage to go deeper and deeper. No matter how hard I fucked or how fast I went, this stud always wanted more, turning me on beyond belief.
We had been going for half an hour and neither showed signs of slowing. He wanted me to pound him. I wanted to pound him. Sweat was dripping down my chest and every once in a while he would reach up slide his hands across me. Most of the time, however, they were spent clutching my ass, forcing my hips to go deeper and harder.
We were both losing our breath, breathing heavily as if we were running a marathon. Fifteen minutes later and it was time to change positions again. He grabbed my neck and pulled me down, stopping my fucking, but attacking my mouth with his tongue. He kissed me so savagely I thought I would soon taste blood if we didn't cool it. I moved away, pulled my dick out of his ass and he dropped his legs. This switch didn't take long because as soon as he was off the counter, he was turned around and I was fucking him from behind, this time grabbing his shoulders into me for leverage.
I bit the back of his neck and me moaned. One hand was pulling his hips to mine while mine thrust into his. The other massaged his great upper body, worshipping it for all it was. His youthful hairless skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat, making my chest glide smoothly against his back.
He wanted it deeper. He arched his back against the desk, pistoning his ass harder against my crotch, forcing me to go harder than I ever had in my life. I wanted to fill this expert bottom with as much as he could handle and as soon as I thought I was, he begged me for more.
After 20 minutes of savage fucking, he stopped again, this time getting on the desk on all fours, inviting me to climb up as well. My hands were on the edge for support, right over his, digging in as I held on. His ass was offered wide to me as I doggy-styled his ass from behind. His pants were growing louder and his moans were off the Richter. This position gave us less movement and control, but it gave him more pleasure. I was pumping in and out, in and out as hard as I could. I could feel myself getting closer, amazed at how long I had lasted. We'd been going for an hour and a half. I wanted to see his face when I spilled my cum into his ass, so the final position changed shortly. I sat down on the stool with my legs spread wide and taking my cue, he straddled me and rode my cock hard, up and down. We were facing each other, stealing kisses between pants and moans, watching each other's face contort to the rhythm of the coming eruption. Mine went first, spewing deep into his ass, drizzling down after overflowing him and dripping down my leg. I shot harder than I ever had before, emptying everything I had spent up for hours into his cute bubble ass. I wasn't on my third spurt when his erupted, hitting up both in the face and chest. His first shot hit his chin and my nose. I licked his face, moving up to his mouth as I felt shot after shot spew up against my chest and abs before I couldn't feel it shoot anymore. I looked down to realize that neither one of us had a hand around his dick, it had pumped all that cum out on its own. We kissed for another couple of minutes before the awkward after-sex silence ensued as I gathered my clothes and headed upstairs.
I stopped at the elevator and turned, greeted by his sheepishly boyish smile. "Are you working tomorrow night?"
"You mean tonight stud?" That's when he pointed at the window and I realized the sun was coming up. We had fucked all night long. I smiled when he nodded that he was working. I turned, took the elevator to my floor and found my roommate the exact same way I'd left him.
Zach- I didn't hear him right. I couldn't have. Did he really say that he was married? Married to whom? A girl obviously, but that didn't make any sense. Married- the word rang in my ear?
"Married?" I stammered after a confused fifteen seconds of silence.
"I didn't know how you'd react, that's why I never said anything," Chris said desperately.
"Married?" that was the only word that rang in my mind. The guy I'd been sleeping with, falling in love with, had a wife. What else did he have?
"Come on Zach, don't freak out," he said.
"Don't freak out?" I rose and started pacing. "How the fuck am I not supposed to be freaking out when I'm sleeping with a married guy? Tell me, Chris, what am I supposed to be doing right now?"
"Let me explain."
"That would be nice," I said still pacing.
"Would you sit down?"
"I prefer to stand," I said.
"I've been married for 6 years." I sat.
"6 years?"
"Since I graduated high school. I got my girlfriend pregnant at prom. Our parents, mostly hers, decided to keep it quite so we had a small ceremony, she had the baby and we moved here."
"So you have a little six-year-old child running around, too?" I stood.
"Five," he said sheepishly.
"Oh my god. What the hell is wrong with you?" I sat.
"Listen," he said. "We aren't your average happy family. Her parents are wealthy and she spends their money. She always has. I don't make her happy the way Gucci and Fendi do. She doesn't make me happy the way you do."
I was beyond outraged. I stood. "Oh, cut the bullshit Chris. You have a wife and a kid."
"Kids."
"Kids," I continued before realizing what he said and backtracking asked, "Kids?"
"Twins," he said sheepishly.
"Oh my god," I sat. I was speechless.
"It isn't what you think," he said fishing.
"What do I think Chris? That you are a bad husband and father? Yes. That you are a liar and a cheater? Yes. That somehow I should walk away and never see you again? Yes. All those things come to mind right now Chris."
"It isn't like that. We're separated," he continued. "She went back to New York to raise our daughters with her parent's money while I stayed here to get my Master's. She would rather walk down Fifth Avenue than be married to me, so when she found out I was staying here to finish my degree, she packed up and left."
"But you are cheating on her," I pointed out.
"And she's cheating on me."
"With a credit card. That doesn't count." I couldn't look at him. I stood and this time headed for the door.
"Don't leave me Zach. That's why I didn't want to tell you."
"No, Chris. You didn't want to tell me because you knew what you were doing was wrong. I don't have time," I stammered. "I have to go. I'm sorry."
I walked out the door. He called after me but I kept walking. The word married rang through my head.
They say that when all the chips are down and the decision is clear, it often means its time to say goodbye. They say that goodbye is one of the hardest things we have to do.
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