For the Love of David
by Charlie
First Alternate Reality
Part Three
Life was good. We all really enjoyed each other and the sex. But I noticed a slow change in our relationship. When one of us was gone it had always been OK for the other two to have sex, and that was still the case. But it seemed that Mike and David took advantage of that more often. Mike kissed David with more enthusiasm, and David returned the favor. I was never left out, never refused any wish. Nothing was hidden from me. But it was clear that the three-way was moving to a two-way.
One evening when Mike was back in his own room studying, I decided to be frank with David, "You're falling in love with Mike, aren't you?"
"Does it show?"
"Yes."
"Yes, I think I am. God, I am so sorry Charlie. I just sort of assumed that we would always be together. But then things began to drift in another direction."
"David, it's OK. We never laid any claim on each other. It was always fun. And it was always genital based. Hell, we hardly kissed each other before Mike arrived. Mike has always been more into an emotional relationship than a physical one, not that he doesn't love sex, especially being fucked by the two of us in a row.
"I guess I sort of thought we would just go on being friends, enjoying sex and each other. But love doesn't work that way. We might have fallen in love. I am not really sure why we didn't. But we didn't. And now you and Mike have. I have no right to say anything but 'Wonderful' and 'Congratulations.'
"But I guess it still hurts. I am not jealous of either of you. I think I am jealous of your love for each other. I want someone to love. Shit, I need someone to love. And finding that someone in this world is going to be tough. I should have grabbed you while I could. No, I shouldn't have said that. I don't want to do or say anything that would get between you and Mike. Go for it, and enjoy your lives together."
Later that evening Mike joined us. I knew I had to say something, but I wasn't sure what. I wasn't able just yet to be kind, so I greeted him with, "Hello, Lover boy!"
He looked thunderstruck. "What, how, do you..."
David came to his rescue, "Mike, Charlie and I have been talking. He knows; he figured out that we were falling in love. He's OK with it. Really."
"Really?"
"Really." And this was followed by a lot of what David and I had said. I wasn't sure that Mike believed it all, and I wasn't positive that I believed it either.
David asked no one in particular, "What does this say about sex in this group?"
I didn't think that it was my place to answer that. They had to make that decision. Mike was quick to reply: "Both of you take of your clothes and let's find out." I was included.
David looked at me and said, "Be quick about it, I'm horny."
I can't say that the sex was any better that night, but it wasn't any worse. We slept in one of the worst cum messes we had ever made. And we slept very well.
I was always included in the sex when I was around. But David and Mike needed time to talk, hug, kiss, love, and dream. I gave them breathing room and they gave me all the sex I wanted. They had the next year to plan for, and I had to think about a new roommate for the fall. The idea of going back to pretending that masturbation didn't happen sickened me, but that was the norm for roommates then. Phil eventually came to mind, and he was as relieved to find someone that he could be open with as I was. So it was a done deal for the next year.
David and Mike were looking to grad school-David in physics and Mike in math. What a team-a Nobel prize was waiting for them about twenty years down the road. But they were determined that they would either go to the same school or schools in the same town. When you need admission and fellowships, that was tough. But it worked out. David was accepted at M.I.T. and Mike at Boston University. They were going to rent an apartment somewhere between the two schools. They had their summer all planned. They had pooled their savings from working previous summers and bought a decent car. They were going to spend the summer doing the "Grand Tour of the West"—Yellowstone, Rocky Mountains, Yosemite, all of it. Just the two of them. Camping some nights and staying in motels some nights. I think they had their nights planned more carefully than their days.
I returned to my camp counseling job for what I expected to be my last summer. I was looking forward to it-I always did. But I wasn't looking forward to the fall with no David and no Mike-especially no David. I would just have to see what the future would bring. In any case, I knew the summer would bring no sex.
The time of parting approached. David announced at the beginning of the last week that we had a week to go. He said that it was my show. For the whole week it would be sex on my terms, any way, time, or place I wanted. It was a lovely gesture, as they knew they were off to a summer of fun and I was off to a summer, and who knew how much longer, of celibacy. I said that I wanted to have lots of fun with them and make it a happy time. Cum all over the place, and Mike's ass would just have to wait for David the next week. But then I turned to Mike and said, "I'm sorry Mike, but I would like the last night to be just David and me."
Mike said he understood and I really think he did.
What a week it was. They had graduation rehearsal to walk through and then the real thing, but classes and exams were over. Not much was going on, and we hardly had to leave our room except to eat and pee. Exercising my right to call the shots, I decreed that we would be nude whenever we were in the room. A few times this led to a little embarrassment as visitors knocked, but we grabbed robes or towels as needed. At this stage we really didn't care what people knew or thought they knew. I couldn't count how many times we had sex, or how many ways. Always messy-the messier the better, and even Mike joined in the enthusiasm. We sucked, used our hands, sucked again, even did some 69-though none of us really found that very satisfying. Finally the last night for Mike arrived. I told him that I wanted to fuck him one last time. I knew that was what he liked, and I wanted my last time with him to be glorious. I wanted him to have a lasting positive memory of Charlie.
By this time we had learned about KY, and that was liberally applied. I eased inside him without benefit of fingering him first. I went oh so slowly, and then back and forth oh so slowly. He told me to hurry, bang away, but I told him I wanted it to be oh so slow. It was, but finally I came and very slowly went soft and pulled out. We hugged and kissed, and he told me he loved me as well as David. I said, "I know, but it is a different kind of love. I want you and David to have a lifelong love of each other, and a lifelong friendship with me. We won't forget each other." Then I sucked him dry.
David watched all this, and said, "My turn." We hugged, kissed, and I sucked him long and hard. He came so hard I could hardly hold it in my mouth, but I did. No mess, I just swallowed all of him, and then lay with my head on his stomach. Mike lay with us, and we fell asleep. The next morning we did it all over again. Then David and Mike had to go and run errands, getting ready for their big trip which started the next day.
They returned around dinner time, and we ate together in the dining hall. Mike said he had to get back to his room. I knew he was honoring my request to be alone with David that night. But I said, "Mike, come up to the room with us. David and I will have plenty of time later." So the three of us went up to the room and talked.
We talked of the future, our future. David and Mike had the next two to four years mapped out in grad school in Boston. My next few years were less certain. But the real point of the conversation was that David and Mike assured me that I was always welcome with them-in their homes and in their bed. I wasn't sure I believed them, but I loved them for saying so anyway. The clocked ticked on, and it was time for Mike to leave. I would see him tomorrow, so it was a rather quick goodbye.
I walked to the door with Mike, said goodbye, and turned to look at David, who was now sitting cross-legged on the bed. He had a deck of cards in his hand, and he asked, "Want to play?"
Well, yes, I did. God did he have style. What better gesture than to take me back to our first night of sex together? He dealt us each a poker hand, and I won. I won three in a row, in fact. Then we traded back and forth a while and I ended up in my underpants with him in his tee shirt. We had been here before. He dealt the next hand slowly, and I lost again. David looked at me and said, "Wait, this time I want to pull them off you." And he did. Very slowly, and he let my hard-on pop out as he pulled down the elastic waist band. He pushed me over on the bed and got ready to suck me.
I said, "Take your clothes off first."
But he said, "No, the rules say I can leave my clothes on. You are the one that lost in strip poker, and I have you stripped. I want to keep you that way." With that he took my dick in his mouth and started sucking. Very slowly at first, and he never really sped up. I just lay back and relaxed and enjoyed what he was doing. And he was doing everything that a tongue, teeth (yes, teeth, but very carefully), lips and throat could do. From time to time he would pause and I would start to go soft. Then he would tickle my balls and harden me up. Honest to God he had me in his mouth for just over an hour before he let me come. And then I had one of the best organisms of my life. I almost blew his mouth open with my cum.
Then he told me to undress him, and I returned the favor, but I couldn't go slow like he had. In about ten minutes he had popped. We lay together on the bed, wrapped in each other's arms. And slept. We woke in the night and used our hands to accomplish what our tongues had done earlier. I told David that I had one message for him, which he had to take away from this night: He was not to feel guilty for leaving me and loving Mike. I had no claim on him, and he was not being disloyal. He answered that both he and Mike did feel guilty. They had talked long about it, and decided that if they didn't feel guilty then they were not understanding my feelings.
David said, "You can never know how much it means to us that you have supported us and not resented our love. Yes, we feel guilty, but we know we are doing the right thing. And that you support us almost makes us feel more guilty. But, Charlie, we really love each other. I know that I could have grown to love you, and probably you me, but it didn't work out that way. I'm both sorry and happy. But please, Charlie, let us be friends."
"David we will always be friends. Good friends. Close friends. I hope that some day we can live near each other, and that I will have my own partner. But we don't know the future. We have to live in the present. And you and Mike must live your life to the fullest. Enjoy Boston. Enjoy each other. Remember me. Write often." With that we went back to sleep, again in each other's arms.
Morning brought Mike pounding on the door. "David, we have to move. We have a lot to do, and we need to leave by early afternoon if we are going to make Indianapolis by this evening.
"I didn't know you were going to Indianapolis. That is hardly the way West."
"It is time to have those little talks with our parents that we have been putting off since we were Seniors in high school. After Indianapolis it is off to Kansas City to meet Mike's parents."
"Mike, you've met David's parents, haven't you?"
"Yes, they're very nice, and were nice to me. But they didn't know that I was sleeping with their son!"
David, I hope it goes well. Your parents are nice people, they will understand."
"God, I hope so."
"You know, we decided that there was risk in telling parents. So we put it off until we were financially independent. With our summer earnings paying for the car and trip, and the fellowships for the fall, we are OK. We hope it doesn't come to that, but we had to deal with that possibility."
"Listen, you guys. Good luck. And write to me after each parental encounter. I really want, no need, to know how it went. I have my own parents to deal with some day."
They left for more errands, and to check out of the dorm. Shortly they were back. It was time to leave. I hugged Mike and said goodbye with a big sloppy, deep kiss, returned with enthusiasm. Then Mike left David and me together.
I took him by both hands and we just stood their looking at each other. Staring into each other's eyes. Then we hugged. Then we kissed. Deep, passionate, long. We hugged again. And we cried. Not just tears in the eyes, but real sobs.
I said, "David, I am just now understanding what I am losing. We found each other, but we didn't find love. I think I am just now beginning to understand the love I should have poured out to you. My love, go with Mike. Love him. Be good to him. Please remember me."
David was crying so hard, he could just barely say, "I will. I promise."
We stood there trying to hang on to the past. To those wonderful, glorious, fabulous years as long as we could. We just couldn't bring ourselves to break it up. We were almost holding each other up. Finally, I said, "David, have a good life."
"Fabulous." was his response.
"Ditto."
Then I said, "Fabulous."
"Ditto."
Then he moved to the door and opened it. Mike was sitting on the floor with his legs outstretched, leaning back against the door. He almost fell into the room. "How long have you been there?"
"The entire 35 minutes that you have been in here. I hope you got his clothes off and gave him a good last suck, Charlie."
I looked at Mike, grabbed him and hugged him. Nothing he could have said could have made me happier. Mike always said the right thing at the right time. Years ago he had come into this room and said, "Charlie never uses this bed." And our lives had been changed. Now he was telling me that our lives didn't have to change now. That I was welcome to take David's clothes off as I pleased. I simply said, "Thank you, Mike." I kissed him, and they were gone.
As I think back on it, it is interesting that I kissed Mike last. I don't think I would have had the strength to kiss David again that day.
Who would have known, that day in October of our Senior year of high school that "The Love of David" would be for Mike, not Charlie. I guess I goofed; I blew it; I got the nerve to open my mouth way back then, but never to go forward to the next step. That was for Mike to do. I think that I was a product of the times. When we spoke or thought of homosexuality we didn't think of two boys or two girls in love. We thought of two boys or two girls in bed. The focus was on the sex, not the possibility of love. Mike showed us otherwise. He kissed us, and taught us to kiss each other. He taught us to love. While he and David fell in love, he taught us both to love. I knew that my next relationship had to involve both love and sex. Sex alone would never cut it for me again.
Years later I asked David about that farewell. He told me that he and Mike had talked about it in the car. Mike had walked out the door, expecting David to follow fairly quickly. When five minutes passed he sat down as we had found him. He decided that he wanted to be there when David came out, so he would stay put. More time passed. He knew the parting was going to be difficult, and he wondered what he could say to ease it. His remark, "I hope you got his clothes off and gave him a good last suck, Charlie" was not casual. He had thought about it for ten minutes. He had wanted to tell me, without being emotional or starting up the tears again, that my relationship with David could continue. That it was OK with him. And I had understood completely, instantly. And I had hugged him for it.
I asked David how he remembered all that in such detail, years later. His reply startled me: "Charlie, there are three days so etched in my memory that I will be able to recite all of the words when I die. The first was the day of the math problem in my house. The second was the day Mike walked into our lives. The third was the day I said goodbye to you in our room. All of them opened doors that I never knew could be opened. Without them, I wouldn't be me. I think that without them, I wouldn't be. I was the most unhappy boy you can imagine back in high school. You changed that overnight. Mike changed it again. And then you told me that night, that the happiness that you started in my life didn't have to end as I moved into a new chapter with Mike. Charlie, I am the luckiest guy in the world, and I owe it all to you.
I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. But David got a wonderful kiss. His dick got a few strokes as well!
Back to Evanston, Illinois.... Very soon David's first letter arrived:
Dear Charlie,
First, Michael sends his love. He is driving right now, so I have time to write. I hope you can read this. You should be able to, the road is pretty smooth. We will soon be passing through St. Louis on the way to Kansas City.
I hope our time with Mike's folks goes as well as with Mom and Dad. We walked in kind of late-my goodbye session with you took longer than expected! It was all hugs, for both me and Mike. I sensed that they were being very deliberate about welcoming Mike. I said we wanted to talk-even if it was late.
Mom made coffee and we sat at the kitchen table. I said, "Mom, Dad, I should have said this to you a long time ago. I am sorry that I didn't, but I was afraid. I'm gay." Dad looked at me and said, "That's pretty obvious. Has been for years. But we thought we should let you tell us in your own time. So, where does Michael fit into all of this."
Mike jumped right in. "We love each other. Very much. We want to live together in Boston, and then all of our lives." Dad said, "David, you didn't tell us that you had someone going to Boston with you. Your mother and I had kind of guessed that Charlie might move there in a year." Mom said, "Where is Charlie? I'm sorry, Mike, but I have to ask this. What happened between you and Charlie? Your Dad and I assumed since he moved to Northwestern that you two were a pair."
Charlie, it has been hard enough for Mike and me to understand the relationship between the three of us. We tried, long into the night, to explain it all to Mom and Dad. I think we failed. It would really help if you wrote them a letter and tried to explain what happened, and that Mike's and my love really has your blessing. They simply can't believe that I haven't acted badly toward you. Who would have guessed that when they were told I was gay, that their concern would be for my former partner, not about my being gay? I guess I do have really great folks.
[The letter went on and on, but that was the important part.] It ended "Love, David"
I wrote to them, of course. And they wrote back. But more was needed. In the late summer before going back to college I went down to Indianapolis to visit my parents. I took the time to visit David's parents. It was strange. It was very clear that they had mentally already adopted me as another son, and David's bringing Mike home had changed that. Their problem wasn't that I was hurt, but that they were. I promised that I wouldn't leave David's life, and that I wouldn't leave theirs either. I think that helped heal the wounds. And to this day I think of them as one of my sets of parents! They also talked pretty tough with me about having "the talk" with my parents-whom they did not know very well, thank God. I knew that I was going to have to do that, but it didn't happen that trip.
Shortly a second letter arrived from David. He said that Mike should really be the one writing, but that Mike simply couldn't. It hadn't gone well with Mike parents. There wasn't a lot of anger or hostility. Just a total lack of acceptance. David was not welcome in the house. Mike couldn't or wouldn't stay without David. They had left late at night, when they had finally had to accept that they weren't welcome. They had driven all night, with many stops for coffee. Mike was terribly hurt.
A third letter told of Mike's slow healing as David loved him more and more. That, and the joy of a wonderful trip, as well as a life laid out before them-beginning that fall in Boston-finally brought Mike some peace. It would be years before he saw his parents again.
Rooming with Phil that fall was a trip. He quickly learned that I had no problem with his jacking off after a date. I kept trying to explain that my tongue could do a much better job than his fingers. Once or twice he let me try to convince him. But he was a confirmed heterosexual. He had no problem with gay sex for others. But it simply didn't turn him on. He would jack me off from time to time, but only with his hand, never his mouth. And he did it just as a favor to me. I guess as sort of a thank you for putting up with his heterosexuality.
And, yes, my preoccupation with Phil meant that no other boys moved into my life to take David's place. Thank God for Phil. He kept me sane. David and Mike wrote to say that David was going to Indianapolis for Christmas, but that Mike had major work to do at school, and besides they wanted to save some money. Since I was going to Indianapolis too, it meant that David and I would both be there at the same time-and Mike wouldn't be there.
David and I visited often. Of course, we talked about sex. It seems that he and Mike had also talked about sex, and me, and David. Mike had told David that we should go for it while we were together-that he didn't feel threatened. I would have loved to, and I appreciated Mike's generosity. But I told David that I didn't feel comfortable having such a great time without Mike being there. David insisted on my spending the night at his house one night. We slept together, and, well, it didn't stop there. But that was it. David again raised the question of "the talk" with my parents. Then his parents raised the same question. They really pushed hard. David offered to come with me, since he knew my parents and they liked him.
Well, the long and the short of it is that I screwed up my courage, but not enough to do it without David. I sat down and had "the talk" with my parents. They were older than David's parents, of a different generation, and they couldn't relate at all to my being gay. It did help to have David along-at least they had a sample of two within their experience. I don't think they really took it in. It was clear that bringing home a partner was almost going to mean starting over from the beginning. But having said this much, I could introduce a partner in letters, and maybe make the first meeting easier.
David went back to Boston. I went back to Evanston. School wound to an end. Phil and I graduated. Phil married his latest girl-divorced within a year. I headed for Boston as the first leg of a job hunting trip on the east coast.
I was welcomed to Mike and David's apartment with a grand party. It turned out they had made many friends, straight and gay. And everyone at the party knew Mike and David were gay and didn't have a problem with it. This was 1963, six years before Stonewall, so it was quite remarkable that they had been able to achieve this much acceptance. However, in the broader world they were "roommates" not partners.
I looked around and found they had one double bed in their one bedroom, and wondered where I was going to sleep. I think Mike knew what I was thinking, and he pointed to the bed and said, "In there, with us."
"Mike, that isn't fair to you and David. You are a partnership, a family, and I am not going to intrude."
Mike would have none of that. He said that he and David has discussed their commitment to each other and what it meant regarding casual sex with others. They both agreed that sex was fun and weren't sure they wanted to say to no to everyone. But they finally decided that kind of an open arrangement was loaded with dangers. It was time for them to commit to each other and be exclusive partners. They had had casual sex with a few of their gay friends early in the fall. But right after Christmas they had made the decision-and frustrated some of their gay friends.
I said, "Mike, I think that's great, and I fully support that decision. But then I can't be sleeping in your bed with you tonight. I haven't got that kind of self-control."
Both of them said together, quite loudly, "You don't count!"
"What does that mean?"
"It means that there is no way any commitment we make now is going to change the commitment we made to you that you were always welcome and one of us."
"Mike, I can't do that. I would be asking you to break your commitment. I would love to have sex-I was hoping for it when I came. But things have changed, you have moved on, and I won't be a party to your breaking your commitment to each other."
"You won't be," said David. "We very carefully vowed to each other to be faithful and monogamous, except that we would keep our commitment to Charlie, without whom we would not have found our love."
"Should we tell him the rest?" asked Mike.
"I think we should."
"The rest?"
"Yeah," said Mike. "We figured that you were going to find a partner someday. And we agreed that we couldn't invite you into our bed without inviting your partner. So the deal is, you are always welcome, with your current partner, at any time. No question. No hesitation. And that means no hesitation on our part, and no hesitation on your part. And none of this crap like at Christmas, when you wouldn't take care of David's needs while I was back here in Boston. We all know the score: David is mine; you missed your chance. I am David's; you missed your chance. That was settled over a year ago. But we all love each other in a somehow different way. That won't change. We won't change it. You don't change it. Now, take off your clothes, I want to fuck you."
I did. He did. David preferred his mouth. I did a hand job on Mike and with great delight smeared it all over him-even into his hair. He cursed and laughed. And they pointed out that, unlike the Northwestern dorm, it was an easy-and private-trip to the shower. We all headed that way, washed each other, dried each other, and sat down naked for a late snack. In earlier days that would have been the prelude to more sex. I guess we were getting older. It was only the prelude for bed. And I learned that three in a double bed was a lot better than three in a single bed!
One of the guests at the party was Greg, one of Mike's fellow students at BU. He came back the next day for no particular reason. He just appeared at the door, said, "Hi," and invited himself in. He just wanted to talk. Mainly to me. He soon was asking me all kinds of questions: Where was I from, how did I know David and Mike, where had I gone to school, what were my next plans? Soon he was telling me about himself as well.
I had certainly noticed Greg at the party the night before. He was a Nordic God. Tall, about 6' 3", broad, blond, handsome, no extra weight, no trace of acne. Yes, he had been noticed! I had talked to him a little. But I had met a lot of gorgeous young men (I was finally thinking of myself as a man not a boy) and nothing had happened, so I didn't think anything would happen this time. But here he was back the next day, and certainly interested in me. Why? I wasn't half as handsome as he was; I was a stranger; there was nothing about me to stand out. But here he was.
This is really the story of David. So I will move the Greg and me stuff along pretty quickly. He was interested in me. Later, when we got to know each other much better, I asked him why. His answer was simple: Anyone who had the respect of David and Mike was worth a second, third and fourth look. He had, he said, fallen for me on the second look. I guess my count was about the same.
Things moved quickly for me in many ways that summer. I found a job in Washington, in a big non-profit, which is where I had decided I wanted to work. My interest in math and science had faded and public service was more to my liking. Greg and I saw a lot of each other that summer, found our way into each other's beds that fall (not quite as fast and David and I had moved), and committed ourselves to each other at Thanksgiving in Washington. Greg vowed to job hunt in Washington beginning in the spring, and we hoped to move in together in the summer after he completed his Master's degree.
Christmas was a hoot. I came to Boston. Greg had a roommate (really, just a roommate-he wasn't even gay). Greg had hinted about his sexuality, but the roommate was pretty dense and never tumbled as to what Greg was telling him. Theirs was strictly an economic sharing of housing costs. But I couldn't stay with them. So I stayed with Mike and David. I got to Mike and David's apartment about 1:00 p.m. Greg came by about 3:30, following his last class. We talked for a while, had dinner, and then David stood up and said, "Sex!"
Greg almost fell out of his chair. He had been around Mike and David's many times when the subject of sex came up. In their circle it was understood that Mike and David only had sex with each other. I think that at one time Greg had really wanted to "explore" Mike, and perhaps David also. But they were off limits. Everyone knew that. Now here was David wildly announcing "Sex!" Greg was stunned.
Mike came to his rescue. "Greg. The rules changed when you and Charlie committed to each other. You just came inside the circle. You and Charlie have to decide whether you are going to let David and me inside your circle.
It took a lot of explaining before Greg began to understand the unique relationship the three of us had. And now we were talking about expanding it to four. David and Mike admitted that they had, indeed, been matchmakers. It was not by accident that Greg had been at the party. Nor that in conversations before the party they had spoken so highly of me. When Greg had showed up at their door the day after the party, they had instantly gotten out of the way, left us together, and gone and had a celebratory beer in the kitchen. They admitted that they had listened in some, too.
They were pleased to welcome Greg into the circle, and started by stripping his clothes off, standing him up in front of us-hard as a rock. Mike offered, "God, your gonads are as beautiful as the rest of you. I have been drooling for a year. David, I knew there was a reason that we made an exception not only for Charlie but for his partner. Sorry, Charlie, but for right now you are second fiddle to this Nordic wonder."
I responded by saying that I was willing to share, but that at the end of it all he was mine. Greg was so embarrassed he turned from blond to red. But before he knew what had happened he had been pushed down on the bed and David, Mike and I were taking turns sucking every part of him that could be sucked. He came in a flash. Mike asked, "Are you still into cum messes, Charlie, and have you introduced the game to Greg?"
"Yes. Greg didn't know it at the time, but I would have had to think twice about him if he hadn't gone for it. He is kind of like you, Mike; he's into fucking. But he is also into 'anything his partner wants'. It makes for great sex and a good partnership."
"Well, guys, you need to add your loads to Greg's if we are going to initiate him into a real four man cum pile. Get your clothes off and your hands going." Mike was already ahead of us, and he shot his cum all over Greg's face. David and I followed, hitting each other as well as Greg's torso. What a lovely mess. Then David and Mike picked me up and laid me on top of Greg, rubbing my face in the biggest pile of cum. I came again right there on top of him. And I sucked him again and he came for the second time."
"Shower time," said David. We all headed that way, washed (everybody wanted to wash Greg and Greg wanted to wash everybody. Drying went the same way. When I finally knelt before Greg with a towel I carefully, and unnecessarily because he was already dry, dried has dick, balls, ass, legs, stomach, and finally has dick again.
Then I kissed him right on the end of his long (longer than mine), circumcised dick. "Welcome to the family," I said.
"I am the luckiest guy in the world."
There isn't much more to tell. Greg came to Washington that summer and moved into my apartment. Mike and David followed two years later when their Ph.D.s were completed. They got an apartment in the same building.
We slowly slipped into a pattern of spending Friday nights together, sleeping at one or the other's apartments. By now we all had king size beds, and we actually could sleep comfortably with four in the bed. Saturday nearly always started with a reprise of the sex of the night before. Sometimes we would stay together all day, sometimes with more sex and sometimes without, and sometimes it continued through Saturday night-it depended on which couple had other obligations. By the early seventies we were pretty open about our partnerships, and in 1980 we had a joint commitment ceremony. It was a big blast in a suburban hotel ballroom, with scads of friends. All of our parents came-even Mike's. Greg had had a good relationship with his parents-having had "the talk" in his junior year of high school. My parents had greeted Greg neither warmly nor hostilely upon first meeting. But he was such a nice young man that they slowly warmed to him. Dad died before the commitment ceremony, but my mother, age 80, flew out to Washington, and had a wonderful time. On that trip she became fully reconciled to who I was. David's parents were wonderful. His father's toast brought us all to tears:
To my son, and his life partner. To his good friend, Charlie, and his life partner. May they bring as much happiness to others as they have received from each other. May the whole world learn from the unique relationships of these four wonderful young men. May we all learn to face the world as they have, with love, integrity, honesty, fun, and don't forget, with sex.
That night we all went back to Mike and David's. Parents left for their hotels about midnight. As we kissed all the parents goodnight and turned back to the room, there was David sitting cross-legged on the floor. He was holding a deck of cards in his hand. "Want to play?" was all he said.
We did, and we did.
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