Snow flurries mixed with sleet bounced over the windshield on my brief drive to work that morning. Predicted warmer weather later in the morning meant that work was not canceled. Not that it mattered, either way, I’d be at work, either here at the office or at the IKEA table that served as the dining table in my small apartment. I lived about a mile away from the building that housed the company I worked for, and I preferred walking, but today was simply too cold.
I slowed the car as I reached the turn for the parking garage, and I felt the tires skid slightly before grabbing onto the pavement again. It wasn’t that slippery, I thought, but I wondered whether anyone else might be experiencing slick spots on the road. I found my usual space, and after parking the car, I struggled to get my jacket on. I should have worn my Bearskin Hoodie with all the pockets. I actually laughed out loud as I thought of the commercial that had the handsome older men promoting its benefits. I’m not sure I felt more handsome or virile when I wore it, but it was definitely less bulky in the car.
The wind whipping through the parking garage slapped me hard and left a sting on my skin. The temperature had better warm up, I decided; otherwise, I’d insist my team head home after lunch. Precipitation was in the forecast, and the freezing rain predicted for the area north of us could easily envelop us as well.
That Friday morning was pretty routine. The end-of-the-week meeting wasted a good forty-five minutes of time as each department reported that it had almost reached the goal for the week. I reported the same even though I always planned for four days of work, and we had reached our goal by the end of Thursday’s work day. Occasionally I would announce that we had completed things early, but I didn’t want to set expectations that the database maintenance department were miracle workers. We worked hard and got our job done. No one needed the burden of the stress of overpromising and the risk of underdelivering.
By eleven o’clock, the outside temperature had reached thirty-eight, and most of us were disappointed that we weren’t leaving until four. I would have preferred working from home. I’m an introvert, and it takes a lot of energy for me to interact with people in the office, especially when it has nothing to do with work.
People like to small talk. I don’t. Tell me what you want and go away. That’s one of the problems I had with trying to get a boyfriend. I’d had a few dates, but no one clicked. Even when I chatted on line with someone and thought he might be a match. Usually, the guys were too needy. I tried to convince myself that I was better off this way. Porn and a handjob was enough when I needed some sexual release.
On that afternoon, I was clearing up some loose ends when Tommy Dahl came into my office. His face was one of stressed seriousness, and I was certain that I didn’t want to hear what he had to tell me.
“First of all,” he said, “I don’t want you to be offended by anything I say.”
The possibility that I would be offended just went up, but I remained stoic and quiet.
“My group of friends,” he continued, then he paused as he considered how to delicately say the rest. “My group of gay friends, you do know that I’m gay, right?”
“I hadn’t really thought about it,” I told him. “You never wear rainbow shirts or have dildos on your desk, so it never really crossed my mind.” I wondered whether he got the deeper meaning of what I was saying. I believed that your love life and bedroom business had no place at the office, so I never brought it up with anyone.
Then a dreadful thought crossed my mind. Was he about to ask me out? I said a quick prayer. Please don’t ask me out. Tommy wasn’t my type, not in the least. He was a nice enough guy, I suppose, but I’m not interested in you, Tommy. I didn’t tell him that though...
He interrupted my train of thought. “Well, I am, and since you never talk about girls, I assume you are, too.
I didn’t react. Big assumption, I thought, even though it was correct.
“My friends and I have decided to have a get-together. Each of us is supposed to bring a gay friend who is unattached. The hope is that one or two of them might meet someone at the party, and love will blossom. It sounded like a great idea when we first talked about it, but now I’m not sure. Plus, I don’t have an unattached friend to bring.”
Well, at least he doesn’t consider me a friend. I remained quiet but irritated. He assumed I was unattached. The fact that I was had no bearing on the case. I guess that he assumes no one likes me well enough to be my boyfriend. I felt my insecurities rising.
Sure, I was a twenty-nine-year-old male with no true friends and a non-existent list of lovers. HIV had frightened me into celibacy during my college years, and a lack of social skills had prevented me from finding someone with whom I could share my life. My doctor suggested I get on a PReP program thinking it might ease some of my concerns and make me a little more sociable. While I wasn’t on the autism spectrum, I did share some traits, and I’d overheard people saying I was weird.
Despite my initial reluctance, I found myself accepting the invitation. In a large part because Tommy said he would owe me a favor if I did this for him. Plus, I had nothing to lose, and maybe, just maybe, I could find someone who would see beyond my awkward exterior. The party was at Stuart and Tommy’s place, and as I approached the door, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the evening ahead.
Inside, the atmosphere was lively, with couples mingling and unattached men making the best of the situation. I immediately felt out of place. I counted three couples and five unattached men, making me the sixth. As I scanned the room, my eyes immediately fell on Neal. He glanced up at me as I came in. His green eyes sparkled with an intensity that drew me in, and his brown wavy hair added to his allure. Neal was average in the looks department, but he was fit and slightly muscular, a stark contrast to his introverted demeanor. He was sitting by himself and after giving me a quick look, he began to study the pattern in the carpet. While no one seemed to notice him, I was intrigued and decided to introduce myself. If nothing came of it, I could always tell Tommy that I tried.
“Hi, I’m Mark,” I said. I knew I should extend my hand, but I hated when strangers touched me. I didn’t want to have to excuse myself to wash my hands. “Tommy invited me.”
Neal hesitated for a moment before offering me a fist bump. I made a fist and held it out.
“Neal. I’m here because Stuart and Tommy think I’ll never find a boyfriend. Stuart’s my cousin, but he thinks I’m a loser because I won’t go out with him to gay bars. He figures that in a group of losers, one loser might find another loser. But I’m not a loser.”
“I’m not either. Maybe your premise is incorrect. Maybe he realizes that people who don’t like crowds need another way to meet other people who don’t like crowds.”
“Those other guys don’t seem to have a problem with crowds.”
I felt a pang of empathy and a desire to run my fingers through his hair and have him look at me with those green eyes. I decided on a different approach. “Well, then, maybe we should go where there aren’t any crowds. We could go back to my apartment and talk and kiss and...”
““Could we fuck, too? I’ve always wanted to,” said Neal.
“I was thinking the same thin. Yeah, we can. You can fuck me. Can I fuck you?”
Neal’s eyebrows raised. “Of course. It’s only fair that we each get to. Let’s suck first, OK?”
“Yes. We can tell them later that we hit it off and spent the night together.”
Neal’s eyes widened, but he nodded. “Let’s go. Did you drive? I didn’t.”
And so, our crazy night began. We left the party quietly, escaping the awkward social dynamics and heading to my place. The drive was filled with a charged silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. As we entered my apartment, the tension between us was palpable.
I took Neal straight to the bedroom.
“Nice room. My room is in the basement; it was supposed to be the guest room.” Neal swept the room with his eyes as if recording it for an inspection. “Yes.”
I stood directly in front of him. His green eyes locked onto mine, and I could see the desire simmering beneath his introverted exterior. I kissed him, feeling his body respond to mine, and we began to undress each other, our movements fueled by a mix of curiosity and pent-up longing.
I traced the lines of his body with my fingers, feeling the contours of his muscles. Neal’s skin was warm and inviting, and I could feel the rapid beat of his heart against my palm. He reached out to touch me, his hands exploring my chest and shoulders with a gentle yet insistent curiosity.
We took our time, savoring each moment as if it were a precious gift. I lay Neal down on the bed, my body covering his as I kissed him deeply. His hands gripped my back, pulling me closer, and I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. We moved together, our bodies pressing against each other, seeking more contact, more intimacy.
I trailed kisses down his neck, feeling his pulse quicken beneath my lips. Neal’s breath hitched as I moved lower, my tongue exploring the sensitive skin of his collarbone. He arched into me, his body begging for more, and I complied, my hands roaming over his chest and stomach.
Neal’s touch was both tentative and bold, a contradiction that only served to heighten my desire. He ran his fingers through my hair, his grip tightening as I took one of his nipples into my mouth. I could feel his heartbeat race as I lavished attention on his chest, my teeth grazing his sensitive skin.
We moved in a slow, sensual dance, our bodies learning each other’s rhythms. Neal’s hands explored every inch of me, his touch both gentle and demanding. I could feel the tension building between us, a coil of desire that threatened to unravel at any moment.
With his hand encircling my penis, Neal examined it as if it were a lab specimen. “I’m fascinated by foreskins,” he said. He pushed the foreskin back, exposing the head of my erection. He licked the head tentatively before sliding the entire shaft into his mouth. He pulled back. “I like the way that feels.”
“You did that like an expert,” I said. “It felt really good.”
“That’s my first time, but I read how to do it. I’m glad you liked it.”
I shifted positions so that I could suck him as he sucked me. The intensity was incredible. As we moved together, our bodies mingling, I could feel the connection deepening. We changed positions. Neal lay between my legs; his eyes met mine, and in that moment, I saw a vulnerability that touched my soul. I kissed him deeply, pouring all my feelings into the embrace, and he responded with a fervor that matched my own.
Using saliva to moisten my hole, Neal again was precise. His entrance into my body was gentle and firm. It was more than being physically filled; I was joined to a man who seemed to complete me in a way that I couldn’t understand or explain.
The night was a whirlwind of passion and exploration. We discovered each other’s bodies, each touch and kiss a revelation. Neal’s reserved nature gave way to a fierce intensity, and I found myself captivated by his hidden depths. We moved together, our bodies in sync, as if we had been made for each other.
As the night wore on, we took breaks to talk. Neal was extremely intelligent; he admitted to having an IQ test that yielded a score over 180. “I don’t think like other people,” he said. “I have trouble relating.”
“I think we’re relating pretty well right now,” I told him. We interspersed our conversation with more intimate moments. Neal shared his insecurities and fears, and I found myself opening up in a way I hadn’t with anyone else. There was a connection between us, a bond forged in the heat of passion and the vulnerability of shared secrets. He seemed to understand me, and I wanted to understand him.
By morning, we were both exhausted but content. A light snow had started falling, and we stood at the window using the curtains to block our nudity from the world. “It’s snowing again,” I said.
“Ice crystals are beautiful things,” Neal commented and then turned to look at me.
“So are certain men with green eyes.”
“I like your chin,” Neal commented as he ran his finger along my jawline.
“Would you like to stay for more Saturday play?”
Neal smiled; his green eyes sparkled. “I’d like that.”
And so, our unexpected encounter turned into something more, a promise of future adventures and a chance to explore the depths of our connection.
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