Michael's Secrets

by Milton Stern

  A red flag went up in Michael’s head. He can’t separate sex from friendship?

  Within a minute, Steve was naked, and Michael reluctantly joined him.

  They started making out while standing next to the bed, then Steve lifted Michael up and tossed him on his back on the bed. He lay on top of Michael, and they made out for quite a while. When they finally parted lips, Steve whispered into Michael’s ear, “I want you to fuck me.”

  Michael’s eyes popped open. “What?”

  “I want to sit on that big, fat Jewish dick and ride it. I want to feel it up my asshole,” Steve growled into Michael’s ear.

  “Listen, I’m not really into anal sex,” Michael said as he tried to squirm out from under Steve, but Steve was a bit stronger, or he didn’t try hard enough.

  “Come on, don’t you want to fuck my big hairy ass?”

  Michael stared at Steve for a second, then said, “The condoms and lube are in the nightstand,” remembering where Eric said they were on his amazingly complete list. As Steve leaned over to grab the necessities, Michael wanted to slap himself. He didn’t know what kind of hold this guy had on him to make him do something he didn’t particularly enjoy.

  Steve ripped open the condom pack with his teeth, then slipped it onto Michael’s stiff cock. He then squirted a bit of lube on his hand and a liberal amount on Michael’s sheathed tool. And, without a bit of hesitation and in one swift movement, Steve sat on Michael’s cock and took it all the way in, smiling the entire time.

  “Oh man, your big dick feels so good inside me,” Steve moaned as he proceeded to ride up and down, while Michael did his best to try and enjoy the situation, but this was one thing that did little to turn Michael on.

  He just could never get into the appeal of anal sex. He tried being a bottom a couple of times, but he didn’t enjoy it in the least, and as a top, he found it boring, especially since condoms caused his dick to go numb, so there was very little pleasure in the situation.

  Steve’s eyes were closed, so he couldn’t see the bored look on Michael’s face, and they remained closed while he stroked then came only minutes after impaling himself. He slipped off Michael and lay beside him and said, “That was amazing, now you.”

  “Now, me, what?”

  “Come,” Steve said as he slipped the condom off Michael and stroked him. It took Michael a while, but he did finally come.

  Again, they showered together, and Steve was gone. This time it took twenty minutes for all to transpire.

  Afterward, Michael was a mess. This kid was only thirty. The worst part was the fact that Steve dropped by just to surprise Michael made him start to have feelings for Steve.

  Two days later, Steve showed up at Michael’s front door again. This time, he walked in, undressed and proceeded to seduce Michael without any invitation. The following week, however, Steve had spent the night at his boyfriend’s house and come over to Michael’s straight from there. Upon hearing this, Michael asked him, “You just had sex with your boyfriend, and you show up at my door?”

  “Oh, we didn’t do anything. That’s one of the problems. He always wants it, and I have a low sex drive,” Steve said as he removed his clothes, talking as if he were reporting on the weather.

  Low sex drive? Michael thought. Steve didn’t have one around him. Talk about confusion.

  They made out for quite a while then Michael sucked on Steve’s dick before Steve once again asked Michael to fuck him. Michael obliged, this time doing it doggy-style. The way Steve moaned, you would have thought Michael was a pro at topping guys, and he never told Steve how much he really didn’t enjoy anal intercourse because it was all about Steve’s pleasure.

  After they were done, Steve said he was leaving on a work-related trip to Texas in a couple of days, and he would call Michael when he got back. Michael was glad Steve was leaving as he seemed to be losing control over this situation, and the further away Steve was, the better Michael would be. The following week, Steve called from Texas just to say hello. Michael thought that simple act was one of the sweetest things he ever experienced, but little did Michael know that it would be the last time Steve would ever call while out of town.

  Is this guy for real? Is he falling for me? Michael thought. What is happening here? Michael knew he was falling for him, or he wouldn’t have allowed him to drop by unannounced. He also knew that if they became lovers, it would only be a matter of time before Steve left Michael’s apartment to have a tryst with someone else on the way to work. This was Steve’s obvious MO.

  They e-mailed each other quite a bit, sometimes talking dirty and sometimes just saying hi. Michael did notice somewhat of a pattern around this time. If he asked Steve a question, it was never answered. Steve wouldn’t even dance around it; he would just ignore it. Michael asked him what he was doing for Thanksgiving, as he was worried Steve would be alone, and wanted to invite him to go with him to Sharon’s house. Michael didn’t tell him about the invitation as he did not want to sound too clingy.

  Michael just asked, “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

  He asked him about four times, until Steve finally answered, “Tom and I are going out for Chinese with a bunch of friends.”

  Michael thought he and Tom were on the outs, but then Steve told him they were working things out, and Michael’s heart sank as he realized he was in way too deep, and that he was definitely falling for someone else’s boyfriend.

  They did not see each other for the first few weeks in November, and on November 22, Steve called Michael to wish him a happy birthday, and Michael was surprised Steve remembered his birthday as he only mentioned it in passing. Michael told him to have a Happy Thanksgiving, and Steve even called him on Thanksgiving morning to say hello. Then, Michael noticed another pattern beginning to take shape. Steve never answered the phone when Michael called. Steve actually preferred e-mail to actual conversation. On the rare occasion they did talk on the phone, it was Steve who called.

  Michael was available to Steve, but Steve was not available to him. He started to realize he had relinquished all control over his feelings and time to someone who was someone else’s boyfriend. But, for some reason, Michael could not extricate himself from this situation entirely.

  The Friday after Thanksgiving, Steve called Michael from work and asked if he could stop by on his way to the gym. Michael, who at this point was starting to crave any moment with Steve, while becoming leery of continuing this situation, said yes anyway. When Steve arrived, Michael sat on the futon, and Steve sat on his lap sideways as usual, but still dressed in his work clothes.

  Michael looked into his eyes and asked, “What the hell is going on here?”

  Steve looked into Michael’s and answered, “Oh we’re just friends having some fun.” He then leaned in for a kiss, and they made out as they practically ripped each other’s clothes off.

  Once in the bedroom, they continued to make out, but when Steve uttered the usual, “I can’t wait for you to fuck me,” Michael stopped.

  “I’m not in the mood to fuck today,” he said, proud of himself for expressing his feelings.

  “That’s cool,” Steve said, surprising Michael by letting it go, then scooting up Michael’s chest until his cock was resting on Michael’s chin, “Then suck me, boy.”

  Michael obliged giving Steve a great deal of pleasure, while he became quite oral himself, saying things like, “Yeah, you like that daddy dick, don’t you boy? … come on, milk my bone … take it all down your throat.”

  Michael got so into the dirty talk that he did something he hadn’t done in years. He swallowed Steve’s load, which just about made him scream, “Holy fuck! Oh shit! God damn!” And, Michael came without even touching himself.

  Steve caught his breath and hopped off Michael’s face and looked down at the pool of cum on Michael’s belly, “You really liked that didn’t you, boy?”

  But, Michael said nothing. He suddenly felt dirty and ashamed at what he did.

  Th
is time, he let Steve shower alone and was pretty quiet, barely saying goodbye as Steve left.

  Afterward, Michael made up his mind that would be the last time he would see Steve. This was not healthy for him, and he knew he was falling for a guy who was unavailable and crossing a dangerous line with him. The following Friday, Steve e-mailed Michael asking if he wanted to go shopping with him on Saturday. Michael hesitated before answering and foolishly e-mailed, “Sure, call me. I should be home all day.”

  The next day, Michael did something he hadn’t done in a decade. He actually stayed home all day, waiting for a man to call him. He never once dialed Steve’s number, and by around four, he realized Steve had no intention of contacting him.

  Steve finally contacted Michael around five-thirty, and by e-mail, telling Michael he just got back from shopping and asking how Michael’s day was.

  Michael e-mailed back, “Weren’t you going to call me to go with you?” and he wondered why he was giving Steve so much control over everything?

  He e-mailed back, “Don’t be like that; I just needed time alone.”

  Without hesitation this time, Michael e-mailed, “Steve, I don’t think I can see or have contact with you anymore. I waited here all day for someone else’s boyfriend to call me. This is not healthy for me, as I am not comfortable with this whole situation. You and your boyfriend have issues to work out, and I need to get on with my life. I really like you, but I am too old to be doing this. Please understand, Michael.”

  Michael was proud of himself for cutting it off. However, he then sat at the computer waiting for Steve’s response rather than go out for the evening. Michael realized he was now becoming more obsessive while he was also becoming more miserable.

  Why are my relationships never happy ones? He thought. What the hell is this situation with Steve?

  Steve responded two hours later with “OK.” That was it, just OK. No goodbye, no protest, just OK. Michael was not even upset. It was over. It was time to move on.

  Throughout all of this, Michael had told no one that he had met Steve Smith or that they were fooling around. He did not even share it with Dr. Mikowsky.

  The secrecy had begun.

  Chapter Six

  Most of December was dull for Michael as he continued to work in the apartment and occasionally meet with Sharon, but he did not go out very much. He considered buying a car or renting one for the time he was there, but kept putting it off, finding one excuse or another not to do it. Michael would talk to a few guys at Results the Gym, but working out in the morning did not lend itself to establishing friendships as he pretty much kept to himself, and everyone there in the wee hours of the morning was concentrating on working out and getting to their jobs on time.

  This was surprising as Michael was such a social person when he was home in California, but he had changed – Washington had changed him. He was so used to the show biz environment that he didn’t know how to function in a city full of lawyers and federal workers. He just didn’t fit in. He missed being in a writer’s room at a studio. Although that was work, it was always fun, even when they worked past midnight. Michael would bring Aunt Clara to work with him, and she would sleep most of the day in his office or in one of the chairs in the writer’s room. He missed having a dog, but Michael knew he should wait until he returned home before considering adopting another pet. There were days he would not leave the apartment except to go to the gym or pick up dinner from the Chinese take-out on Mount Pleasant Street.

  He wanted to go home.

  As he was getting ready to go to Sharon’s for a New Year’s Eve Party, he decided to check his e-mail, yet there was nothing of any significance, except an e-mail from GayDC Weekly Magazine asking him to vote for the “Hottie of the Year.” Michael opened the e-mail and clicked on the link and looked at the profiles of the five finalists, and not surprisingly, Steve Smith was one of them. Michael looked at all five guy’s profiles and interviews, and Steve’s was the most confusing. He said he was “desperately lonely” and hoping to find a love interest and balance that with his need to be alone. Michael wondered what the hell that meant. Did he and the boyfriend break up? How does one become desperately lonely yet want to be alone?

  “Oy, am I glad I ended that situation, whatever the hell it was,” Michael said out loud.

  Steve’s pictures were perfect, and Michael had to admit Steve was the most photogenic person he knew outside of Tinsel Town, and one of the sexiest men he had ever met. But, Michael also wondered how someone posing in a jock strap or leather chaps and nothing else could work for a government agency, albeit as a contractor or a consultant, and still have a security clearance. Didn’t they know everything about everyone? Maybe Michael was right, and that was not his real name. But still, Michael was aware that the government even knew when one took his last crap!

  Michael decided to vote for Steve. Then he did something he knew he would regret. He e-mailed Steve to tell him he voted for him and wished him a Happy New Year. Michael then shut down the computer, determined not to sit there waiting for a response.

  “No more of that behavior for me,” Michael said to himself.

  Michael called for a cab, which arrived in fifteen minutes and took him to Sharon’s party. He was never much for New Year’s Eve, as he was never much of a drinker, usually stopping after one. He was quiet to the point of being almost anti-social for most of the evening, and he was not in the greatest of moods. He attributed it to being a little homesick and nervous about going back to California for the premiere of Birthright in a few days. Michael did engage in small talk with a few people, but he really wasn’t himself, so he would use the excuse of helping Sharon and duck into her kitchen to help with the food, leading most of the guests to think he was a snob, which couldn’t be farther from the truth.

  After midnight, just about everyone left, and Michael stayed to help Sharon clean up. She was picking up cups and putting them in a trash bag, while Michael put all the leftover food into containers and into the refrigerator. Her boyfriend, Wes, who also didn’t drink, acted as designated driver and drove a few of the guests home, so Michael and Sharon were the only ones in the condo once the party was over.

  Sharon walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter looking at Michael. “OK, Michael, what’s wrong?” she asked with her arms crossed over her ample bosom.

  “Why would anything be wrong?” Michael asked as he continued the task of putting away the leftovers.

  “You haven’t said a word all night. You pretty much nodded at people and then would retreat into the kitchen and make like you were helping me,” she said. “You’re usually the life of the party. Everyone gravitates around you while you tell jokes and stories about your mother and her friends or some weird situation you’ve managed to fall into.”

  Michael glanced at her for a second, then placed the last container in the refrigerator, poured himself a diet soda, and sat at the kitchen table. “Do you have any cigarettes?” he asked, ignoring her question.

  “Michael, I thought you didn’t smoke,” Sharon said as she tied up the trash bag she had brought into the kitchen.

  “Only when I’m a little stressed,” he answered.

  “You and your secrets. I have some, but we have to smoke on the patio,” she said as she walked toward the refrigerator. She then tried to reach into the cabinet above the refrigerator but was having no luck. Michael walked over to the refrigerator and opened the cabinet and found her pack of Marlboro Lights and handed them to her.

  “Now, who has secrets?” he asked with a slight smile.

  They walked out onto the patio, and it was unusually warm for a December night in Washington. The view from her Adams Morgan condo was magnificent. One could see the Washington Monument and the Capitol Dome, and they could still hear a few partygoers whooping it up around town. Michael lit her cigarette and then his own, and they smoked in silence for a while.

  “OK, Michael, what’s up?” she asked with her brow fu
rrowed and looking directly at him.

  “I don’t know, Sharon. I guess my coming out here was a mistake,” Michael said, avoiding her gaze.

  “Why do you say that?” she asked.

  He took another puff and answered, “Well, I never really took the time to digest all that happened, what with the show being cancelled and Aunt Clara and Sylvia dying. I just hopped on a plane and came out here. I’m really lonely here. I don’t know that many people.”

  “You know me, you idiot,” she said indignantly.

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said. “I don’t go out to the bars. I’m not meeting anyone. I sit in that apartment all day writing. The only time I get out is when I go to the gym in the morning.”

  She looked at him and put out her cigarette in a plastic ash tray she had sitting on a table just for these occasions. “When you say you’re not meeting people, do you mean men?”

  Michael put his cigarette out and immediately grabbed another one. She gave him a look and proceeded to do the same. Did he mean men? Did he mean friends? Why was he so lonely? In Hollywood, Michael went to one party after another. He met people all the time, and he rarely stayed home on a Saturday night. But here in Washington, he had become a hermit. What has happened to me? Michael thought.

  “I guess that’s part of it. I just have no social life either,” Michael said.

  “Michael, when was the last time you had a real boyfriend?” she asked.

  “It’s been a long time,” he answered.

  “Why?” Sharon asked, interrupting his thoughts.

  “I only attract selfish jerks, who can’t love me as I love them. I gave up on dating as I was tired of falling into the same patterns all the time,” he answered. Intellectually, he could see where he was going wrong, but emotionally, he had no control.

  “Did you ever think that rather than attracting them, you are attracted to men who can’t love you back?” Sharon asked.

  “No. I figured I was a magnet … and now, you sound like my therapist,” Michael said, as if her question were ridiculous.