Colin
Let me start out by saying that I never intended for any of this to happen. I didn’t know what Dominus’ true plans were. If only I had…
I can’t go back and change the past, Zach. All I can do is tell you the truth and hope that you’ll be able to forgive me.
You have to understand—Ecclesium is not a cult.
We were doing amazing things, we really were. Our mission was to change the world one step at a time. We were going to help people clear away the wreckage of their past, to free themselves of their own internal limitations so that their future could be whatever they wanted it to be.
At least, that’s what I used to believe.
My life before I joined Ecclesium looks like a dream when I look back on it. I grew up in Kansas City with a pretty privileged lifestyle, if I’m being honest. My parents were loving and supportive, don’t get me wrong, but I never had to work for anything or suffer through any real trauma.
When I was young I thought this meant that I was lucky, that I wouldn’t be bogged down by the same things that other people had. But Dominus helped me see the truth. He taught me that I was drifting through life, that I had taken my hands off the driver’s wheel and was simply going wherever the wind blew me.
I moved out to LA when I was 18 because I had it in my head that I wanted to make it as an actor. I thought that movie star good looks and a set of abs would be enough to help me make it out here. After all, my black hair, thick eyebrows, and sharp jaw had always gotten me cast as the romantic lead in all of the plays in high school. I figured taking on Hollywood would be a breeze.
I quickly realized that I wasn’t prepared for the amount of hard work being an actor actually called for. Guys like me were a dime a dozen out here. You couldn’t throw a stone without hitting another Joe six-pack looking to make it big. I needed a strong work ethic to succeed, but I was too unwilling to put in the time and effort to grind and achieve the things I wanted.
So, I began to stagnate. I took on a job first as a waiter, then a barista, then a personal trainer. I told myself that I was working these jobs to support me until I made it as an actor, but the truth is that I only went to a handful of auditions in my first five years of living in LA.
That was, until I joined Ecclesium. I first learned about them when a personal training client of mine invited me to one of their introductory workshops.
“What the hell is Ecclesium?” I asked. “It sounds like some kind of church group or something.”
“Trust me,” she said. “They will change your life.”
For better or for worse, she was right.
My first session started off relatively unimpressively. I sat in the back of a stifling room in a building off of Pico Blvd, sweating through my shirt. I remember thinking that the man at the front of the room was wearing a button-down shirt two sizes too big for him and wondering what I was supposed to get out of this guy.
Then he showed us a video explaining something called an R&R: Revisit and Reframe.
The goal of an R&R was to take something in your past and reexamine it, something that you felt was holding you back from achieving your dreams. By revisiting it with the help of one of Ecclesium’s senior delegates, you could relinquish the hold that this event had on your psyche and actually move beyond it.
I’ll be honest, it sounded like bullshit to me at first. Sure, it was nice in theory, the idea that all of our cages were mental. But I was skeptical at the idea that your life could change forever in the span of an hour.
Then I watched as the man worked with a woman from the audience. Her husband had just left her for another woman and she was practically falling apart onstage as she revealed to the audience what he had done.
I remember feeling distinctly uncomfortable as I watched her crying onstage, detailing all of the private and humiliating aspects of her marriage for us all to see. I didn’t understand why she was okay being put on the spot like this. Shouldn’t they be doing this somewhere more private?
But I watched as he talked her through the events, through the subconscious limitations she had placed on herself as a result of her husband’s infidelity.
She was unlovable. She was damaged. She would never be able to find happiness.
He went through her limitations with her one by one, rejecting and reframing each of them into active assertions. She was settling for men who would hurt her because that was what she thought she deserved. Her inability to allow herself to hope was holding her back from believing she could find someone who truly loved her.
I watched her become visibly lighter throughout the course of her R&R. He wasn’t holding back, unafraid to push back against her and challenge her. By the time the man had finished, it was like a different woman was sitting on the stage in front of me.
I was hooked.
I walked right up to the delegate after the session and asked him how I could get involved. He stared back at me with such intensity that I felt just as on the spot as that woman had been just minutes ago.
“What is it you want from us?” he asked.
I was taken aback. “I... I don’t know,” I stammered.
“Surely you must want something.”
“I want to be an actor,” I said, a little bit more confidently.
He nodded. “Many of our members are highly successful actors. Each of them credited Ecclesium with turning the tide in their careers. But it’s not something that’s going to happen overnight. Are you willing to put in the work?”
I nodded vigorously. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
He told me to sign up for one of their extended courses. Although it cost $1000 (which was more than twice as much as I had to my name), I was willing to pay it in order to be involved. I truly believed that Ecclesium could help me find success as an actor.
So, I charged it to my credit card and began my journey into Ecclesium. My first session proved a resounding success—my senior delegate quickly helped me see that my upbringing had inspired in me a fear of discomfort and hard work. By avoiding any form of discomfort, I was robbing myself of the ability to grow and to get ahead.
Once I was able to reframe this in my mind, it was like a flip had been switched in me. I was no longer drifting through life. I grabbed the wheel and took charge, driven by a new sense of motivation and purpose. Within weeks I was going to auditions left and right, showing up to open calls, throwing myself at any casting agent who would see me.
Soon the roles came pouring in. It started with small stuff: a role as an extra on a Disney channel show, a walk-on role in Days of Our Lives. But then I began booking actual roles. A speaking role on an episode of The Walking Dead, a recurring role on This Is Us. My big break, of course, came when I landed one of the lead roles of the newest Netflix show Chasing Emory.
People finally knew my name. I would walk down Crescent Heights and people would stop me and say, “Are you Colin Baker?” It was surreal.
I was no longer Colin, the lazy bum from Kansas City.
I was Colin Baker, heartthrob.
I took the money I earned from my newfound success and poured it back tenfold into Ecclesium. I signed up for course after course, hoping to earn my way up to the role of senior delegate. You see, Ecclesium gave me so much more than just success as an actor. It gave me a purpose, a sense of community. It’s one thing to see the changes happening in your own life. It’s another to walk through them with someone else, to see them transform in front of you as they cast off this weight that they didn’t even realize was there.
I quickly rose up through the ranks, aided no doubt by my overnight fame. Ecclesium liked to reward the rich and famous, that’s for sure. I brought in recruit after recruit, spreading Ecclesium’s message to everyone I could possibly reach. I was only 23 years old when I joined Ecclesium. By the time I was 25, I had already gotten the position of senior delegate, faster than anyone else in the organization.
I had also caught the attention of Dominus himself.
Dominus was a quirky fellow. With his long hair tied back in a man bun and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, he looked more like a hipster than a 40-year-old multi-millionaire. But Dominus was also incredibly enigmatic. He had a way of seeing through all of your bullshit, of instantly engaging you in a way that made you feel seen.
The first time I met him, he was visiting the LA chapter to oversee the opening of our new Venice location. I was in charge of running it, having been awarded the position in what felt like the ultimate honor. He made a point of reaching out to me after the opening ceremony and we spent the entire night walking along the beach in Santa Monica.
I found myself instantly drawn to him. The way he spoke... it was like in one second, he was able to distill all of these complicated concepts into one succinct phrase. All of the emotions that I’d felt my entire life but could never express, he was able to enunciate with such clarity. He could read me like a book, and I instantly deferred to his better judgment.
We kept in constant contact through the next few years. Although the headquarters of Ecclesium were in DC, Dominus was bicoastal, frequently flying on his private jet back and forth the two cities to attend Ecclesium conferences and touch base with the senior delegates. I became one of his most trusted allies, keeping him apprised of the goings on of the LA chapter and identifying potential Hollywood recruits.
Just after my 28th birthday, Chasing Emory was cancelled. We had just completed our fourth season and my career was seriously beginning to take off. I was being offered the lead in a blockbuster movie that would have made me over $1 million, but my work for Ecclesium made me reluctant to commit to something that would take me out of LA to film.
My manager told me that I was crazy, that I was giving up what could be a major career move all for some self-help group.
But I didn’t care.
Like I said, I believed we were doing incredible things. I thought it was my higher calling. And I had become Dominus’s de facto right-hand man. He trusted me with everything, letting me take the reigns of the entire LA chapter and make it my own.
Well, his own, really. I was nothing but a puppet of Dominus at this point, although I didn’t realize it. I talked like him, walked like him, and thought like him.
So when he told me about you, about what I would have to do to bring you into the fold, I did what I had always done: I did what I was told.
____________________
When I got the call that Dominus wanted to see me in his office, I feared the worst. We had just had a negative piece written about us in the Atlantic, something that quoted a former disgruntled member named Stacy Chapman who had left the year before. The article claimed that we were a cult that masqueraded as a self-help group while robbing its members of their money and their ability to think for themselves.
I thought it was full of shit. After all the good we had done, it was unbelievable to me that people would want to attack us and slander our mission.
But Dominus had always explained that not everyone would understand the work we did, that we would be fighting against misperceptions in the media for as long as we lived in a world that allowed this kind of character assasination to go unchecked.
The real source of my shame, of course, was that I was the one who had brought Stacy into Ecclesium in the first place. I had seriously misjudged her, thinking that she would be a valuable and compassionate recruit who would be able to help us bring more women into Ecclesium.
How wrong I turned out to be.
So when I walked into his office, my head bowed in anticipation, I was fully expecting to get reamed out. To my surprise, I found him in bright spirits.
“Colin, come in, you spiritual gangster,” he said excitedly.
He beckoned me to have a seat in front of him.
Carl, his bodyguard, stared ahead with an expression that I couldn’t read. The man had always intimidated me, even though allegedly he was there to protect Dominus. After all, a great man like Dominus surely had enemies, no? But Carl always seemed to treat me like I was a threat, despite my trusted status.
I took a seat and stared at Dominus quizzically.
“I have a task for you,” he said.
That was how he always phrased it. I have a task for you. Usually it was something small, like taking a new member out to dinner or running a private R&R with a celebrity recruit. It didn’t matter what the task was—my answer was always yes.
“You know Zach Nelson, yes?”
“The president’s son?” I asked.
Everyone knew who you were. We’d never had a president with an openly gay kid before, and you had certainly made headlines for your outspoken opinions and sense of style. I had to admit, I admired how vocal you were about the things you believed in. You didn’t seem to care about what anyone else might think or what the headlines might say. You were just you.
Dominus nodded. “We want to bring him in. We think he’d be a good recruit to help get our message out there to a wider audience.”
I nodded slowly. “Okay… but why Zach Nelson? I mean, isn’t he just like, an artist or something? Why not a congressperson or someone a little more in the action?”
Dominus’ eyes shone. “Think about it. He’s got the ear of the most powerful man in the world. With him singing the praises of Ecclesium, we could get government funding. Enough to bring our mission throughout the entire world. You could be running R&Rs in Argentina, Tokyo, at the fucking G5 summit.”
I smiled. Dominus’ enthusiasm was infectious—all of his moods were.
He tapped a pen against the desk, scrutinizing me from behind his glasses. “It also just so happens that he’s a fan of yours.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Of mine?”
“Well, your character in Chasing Emory. He was interviewed for some gay magazine or other, and when they asked him who his celebrity crush was, he said-”
“Jason Middleton.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course. The name had followed me throughout the last four years, ever since I first got cast in the role. As you well know, Jason was a jock with a heart of gold, the studly football player who was just as comfortable on the field as he was chasing down criminals with his friends, a regular ragtag group of teen detectives.
The truth was, Jason and I were about as different as night and day. He was head over heels in love with his high school sweetheart, Cheryl, whereas the only serious girlfriend that I had ever had was Caroline.
Caroline and I had met at Ecclesium in LA, where we first started dating about a year into my training. The senior delegates were against it in a big way, telling me I was moving backward, that she was too new to be able to support me, and that I needed to focus on my training.
I couldn’t see it at the time, but they did everything they could to try to break us up. They would schedule me for hours and hours of training sessions anytime I wasn’t filming, which meant that I had no time to see Caroline. By the time I got asked to head up the Venice location, Caroline and I had grown so far apart that we decided to call it quits.
Jason and I were also different in that I didn’t know the first thing about sports, although to be fair I did spend my fair amount of time in the gym. But as much as I might look the role of the jock with my 6’2” height and my muscular frame, I was much more of an introvert. I was passionate about things like film and television, which is why I had been so intent on pursuing a career as an actor. I loved to tell stories, to inhabit the roles of characters and come up with rich, detailed internal lives for them.
Maybe that’s why it was so easy for me to play the part that Dominus wanted me to play for you.
“We figured you would be the perfect person to bring him in,” said Dominus.
“How do you want me to go about it?” I asked. “Do you wanna arrange a meet and greet with him or something?”
“Not quite, man. We were thinking it might be easier if you... eased him into the idea of us. We don’t want to put him off, make him think we’re selling R&R. That’s not our brand, you know that. The best way to win him over is to gain his trust before you even bring up Ecclesium.”
I stared at him in confusion. “Gain his trust? You make it sound like I’m doing espionage or something,” I laughed.
Dominus folded his hands and looked at me over his glasses. “Dude, trust me. I’ve been bringing in recruits for years. I know when someone is ready to join the spiritual path and when someone needs a little push. Trust me, this is the way.”
He handed me a file. I opened it to find an airline ticket and a pamphlet for an art show.
“We want you to come to DC for a while. We have an apartment for you that’s rented out for the next few months. There’s no telling how long this could take, you should know that up front. But we do know he’s planning on attending the Capital art fair this upcoming weekend, which is why we got you a ticket.”
I opened the pamphlet to find a ticket with my name on it.
Dominus leaned back in his chair, putting his arms behind his head. “Now, he’ll be sure to be surrounded by Secret Service, but this shouldn’t be a problem for you. One look at you and something tells me he’s going to head straight for you.”
“I don’t know,” I said, setting the file on the desk. “I don’t like the idea of lying to him. I mean, didn’t you say that he had a crush on me?”
“Exactly!” exclaimed Dominus. “It’s the perfect in for you.”
“But I’m not gay.”
“It doesn’t matter. Just get to know him, talk up the character, tell him what the show is like, give him a little behind-the-scenes info. Then, once you’ve warmed him up a bit, we can start introducing him to what we’re all about.”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “This is a lot to take in.”
Dominus frowned. “I gotta say, Colin, I’m surprised. I’d think after what happened with Stacy Chapman you’d be looking for a way to mitigate some of the damage you did to Ecclesium.” He raised his hands. “I’m just saying, you have an opportunity here. It’s up to you whether or not you want to take it.”
I stared at Dominus. This was much bigger than any of the previous tasks he’d had for me, and something about what he was asking me to do felt wrong to me. Playing a role as an actor was one thing, but this felt duplicitous.
Unfortunately, I was more than used to overriding my gut intuition by this point. Ecclesium had taught us that these reservations were just self-imposed limitations we had to work through, and I trusted Dominus completely.
“All right,” I said. “When do I leave?
____________________
I arrived at the art gallery with my stomach in knots. I chastised myself for my nerves—what was wrong with me? I had frequented my fair share of red carpet events in Hollywood, exquisite galas and fancy dinners that would make this art fair seem tame in comparison.
But even when I knew my every move was being watched and photographed on the red carpet, with stylists picking apart my outfit and fangirls sharing pictures of me on Instagram, something about being the center of attention in that context suited me. It felt almost natural.
This, on the other hand, made my skin crawl. Not a soul was even looking my way, but I found myself feeling as though I were completely naked. Why was I so nervous? All I had to do was make contact with you, chat you up, secure another meeting. Simple.
I quickly grabbed an hors-d’oeuvre from a passing waiter and shoved it in my mouth. I needed something to quell my nerves. I found another waiter carrying a tray with glasses of champagne. I helped myself to two glasses, draining one of them as I looked around the room nervously.
“Focus,” I told myself. “You can do this. You’re an actor, for Christ’s sake.”
That was when I spotted you.
It was almost impossible not to notice the two men in suits trailing a few feet behind you as you cut a swath through the room. But they were nothing compared to your presence.
The thing I noticed the most about you was your eyes. You had the most beautiful green eyes I’d ever seen in a man. They were brimming with inner life, a self-assuredness that intimidated me even from all the way across the room. I also noticed that no matter who you were speaking to, you kept your eyes trained on them throughout the entire conversation.
That was one of the things I hated about Hollywood. It didn’t matter how famous you were, people would always have one eye on the lookout for someone bigger and better to go and talk to. It was almost impossible to gain someone’s full attention for 30 seconds, let alone the length of an entire conversation.
But you were different.
I watched as you listened and nodded intently to a little old man who was explaining to you the difference between Renaissance and Neoclassicism. I sipped my second glass of champagne, studying you intently as I tried to decide whether or not to approach you or to let you come to me.
True to form, your outfit also stood out from the crowd. Unlike the black ties and cocktail dresses surrounding you, you were dressed in an army green jumpsuit and a pair of suede boots. You even had a dangly cross earring hanging from your left ear that reminded me of George Michael.
I recognized your chestnut brown hair from photos I’d seen of you from the inauguration several months prior, but your beard was new. In contrast to your perfectly quaffed brown hair, you’d grown a short and ruddy beard that made you seem like a secret ginger.
To be honest, I’m ashamed to say that part of me judged you. From your clothes to your hair to the way you walked, I thought you were loud and effeminate. Don’t get me wrong, I was raised in an accepting household. I had nothing against gay people.
But school was a different thing—I grew up surrounded by certain notions of what it meant to be a man. You seemed to violate all of them.
I watched as you rubbed elbows with artists and gallery owners, asking their opinions of the paintings and listening to the history of the artists. You seemed so comfortable in your own skin as you flitted around. After a minute of watching you, I decided that the best course of action was to let you come to me. I would wander somewhere within your line of sight while pretending to look at the art, then let you do the approach and engage me in conversation.
Suddenly you touched the man you were talking to on the shoulder and thanked him before turning to walk away. It was then that you turned and saw me staring right at you from across the room.
I quickly looked away, worried that I’d given myself away. I waited a few seconds, pretending to study the painting in front of me as I tried to regroup. I can’t even tell you what the painting was like, even though I must have stared at it for at least 30 seconds. But when I turned back to check, your green eyes were trained right on me. You smiled.
“Well, I guess it’s too late to play it cool,” I thought. “But I can still let you come to me.”
I nodded at you and flashed you one of my sexiest smiles, then turned and slipped into the adjacent room. I was pretty sure you would follow me, especially if what Dominus had told me about your crush was true.
The back room was much less crowded than the main one. It was lined with rare books in display cases against the wall. I walked along, pretending to be interested in the books I was seeing.
“Anything catch your eye?”
I turned to see you standing a few feet away, the Secret Service men hovering behind you. You were smiling at me, your earring glinting in the light.
“Just browsing,” I said coolly as I turned back to look at the books.
I heard you walk closer to me. My heart was pounding in my chest.
“Come on,” I thought to myself. “What would Jason Middleton do?”
“How about you?” I asked. “You look like the kind of guy who would have an eye for this sort of thing.”
You laughed. “I’m more of a Nancy Drew kind of a girl, myself.”
“Oh? Hardy Boys not up to snuff?”
“Well, Joe was hunky enough,” you said. “But Nancy was the real brains. She had those boys wrapped around her finger in all the crossover novels.”
I looked over at you to see you studying me intently with those green eyes. I hoped the nervousness I felt inside wasn’t showing through.
“I’m Colin,” I said, reaching my hand out.
You took my hand in yours, then clasped it with your other hand and leaned in.
“I know who you are,” you said. “Forgive me, but I’m a bit of a fan. I’m Zach.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I know who you are as well,” I said.
You raised an eyebrow. “Well, would you look at that? We’re already old friends.”
You were still holding my hand in yours. I could see your chest peeking out from the opening of your jumpsuit, a light dusting of hair leading down toward your sternum. Your hands felt warm, but soft. They reminded me of my ex-girlfriend’s hands.
“So tell me, Colin,” you said, letting go of my hand. “What brings you to DC? It’s a long way from Hollywood.”
“I’m shooting a film. It’s all very hush hush. David Lynch and all that.”
You lowered your jaw. “You’re kidding! I loved Twin Peaks. What’s the film about?”
I wagged my finger at you. “David would kill me. You understand.”
Of course, there was no film. But I wasn’t supposed to bring up Ecclesium, not yet at least.
You pursed your lips. “Perhaps I’ll get it out of you at some point. Are you in DC long?”
“Indefinitely. Shooting is supposed to go for at least another couple of months.”
“Well, maybe you’d be able to take a break from your busy schedule and join me for dinner this weekend,” you said, smiling. “I’ve been dying to try Fiola Mare in the harbor.”
“Is the dress as fancy as this?”
“Oh, this will do just fine,” you said, trailing your hand down my arm.
I could feel my heart pounding faster than ever. My skin was crawling with discomfort. It was painfully clear you were interested in me romantically, which made me feel sick to my stomach with guilt. I felt terrible for leading you on, but I didn’t want to put you off for fear of losing you as a recruit.
“I’m looking forward to it,” I said coolly.
You gave me your number before turning to go back to the main room.
“Oh, and Colin?” you said as you stopped in the doorway. “Leave Cheryl at home.”
You winked at me as you disappeared back into the crowd.
____________________
“This is perfect, man,” Dominus said to me as I sat in his office the next morning. “You did better than I expected.”
“But he’s clearly into me,” I complained. “What am I supposed to do about that? He thinks this is a date.”
“Exactly. Just think how close you’ll be able to get to him when he’s head over heels for you.”
I frowned. “I feel bad about this. I don’t want to be disingenuous.”
Dominus squinted at me. “I’m worried about you, Colin. This doesn’t sound like my guy. Why are you holding back?”
“I’m not holding back, I just-”
“You are holding back,” Dominus said abruptly. He walked over to me and leaned against his desk in front of me. “What’s the limitation that’s keeping you from this? What’s the fearful lie you’re telling yourself?”
I sighed. An R&R was the last thing I felt like I needed right now.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I guess… I’m afraid that he’s going to develop feelings for me or something. And then I’m going to have to let him down.”
Dominus raised his eyebrows. “That’s a lot to put on yourself. Do you really think you’re such a stud that he won’t be able to help but fall in love with you?”
“No, but-”
“When we put ourselves at the center of the universe, when our ego is our guiding light, it blinds us. And you know well enough that the opposite of ego is service. In this case, you’re being of service to your fellow Ecclesians by bringing this new recruit in. Don’t put your own selfish fears ahead of that.”
I nodded. He was right. It was absurd to think you would fall in love with me after one date.
“Once I bring him in, then what?”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Dominus. “Just humor him for a little bit. Then we can start to introduce him to Ecclesium and we’ll take it from there. And remember—what you’re doing is going to help countless people. You’re going to help change people’s lives the same way I changed your life.”
Do you know what the sad thing is, Zach? I actually believed him.
You sent a car for me that Friday night. I knew the restaurant we were going to was classy, so I wore a dark slim fit suit with a skinny black tie. I found myself feeling butterflies in my stomach, which was strange. It was almost like I was having first date jitters.
I tried to shake it off. This was ridiculous, I wasn’t even gay! All I had to do was keep this going until Dominus gave the green light to bring you in.
As I walked outside my apartment, the driver got out of the car and opened the side door. I could see you inside, smiling at me.
“Hop in!” you said.
I slid in the car next to you. You sat there grinning at me in a tight black turtleneck and a pair of chinos.
“I’m feeling a little overdressed,” I said nervously.
You laughed. “Don’t be. You look very sexy.”
I blushed as the driver pulled away.
“I was sorry to hear about Chasing Emory getting canceled,” you said as we drove towards the harbor.
“Yeah, it’s just a shame I didn’t get to give Jason more of an ending to his storyline,” I said. I could smell a slight fragrance coming off of you, something light and citrusy. I suppressed the desire to breathe it in deeper.
“Still, a David Lynch film. I mean, that’s quite a step up, isn’t it? You must be excited.”
I nodded. “Yeah, it’s shaping up to be something really cool.”
I could feel a pit in my stomach. Lying to you did not feel natural at all.
When we got to the restaurant, I was surprised to see the Secret Service agents getting out of the car behind us. They followed us inside as we approached the hostess.
“Reservation for Zachary Nelson?” you said, smiling charismatically.
“Right this way, Mr. Nelson. We have a lovely little booth for you in the back here-”
“Do you have anything outside?” you asked.
“Oh, um… well, yes, we do have some tables with a view of the harbor.”
You turned and touched my arm. “Is that alright with you? I’d love to watch the sun set over the harbor while we eat.”
I shrugged. “Sure.”
One of the Secret Service agents stepped forward and leaned in. “Sir, we can offer you better protection inside. There’s too much to account for-”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m not going to live my life in a bubble. If they wanna shoot me while I’m eating oysters, let them.”
You grabbed my hand. “Come on, handsome.”
The hostess led us outside as I trailed along behind you, still holding your hand. I found myself smiling at your forthrightness. I was so averse to conflict that I would never have imagined asking for another table, let alone challenging someone for it.
The hostess left us with the menus. We sat at a table near the end with a clear view of the harbor. The sun was starting to inch closer towards the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the table.
“I don’t know about you, but I think it’s a sin to go to a seafood restaurant and not get oysters,” you said as you opened the menu.
I nodded. “I’m down for some oysters.”
Truth be told, I had never tried oysters a day in my life. But in the spirit of trying something new…
“So,” you said after we had both ordered. “I have a question for you.”
“You wanna know who the Saran Wrap Killer was on Chasing Emory.”
You chuckled. “No. I wanna know about you. Tell me, what made you get into acting in the first place?”
I shrugged. “I guess I’ve always loved it. I did this play in middle school, it was called the Apollo of Bellac. It was the first time I’d ever been onstage before, and I remember my teacher cast me as the lead even though I was sick the day of auditions.”
I smiled at the memory. “I was so nervous onstage. But it was a good kind of nervous, you know? Like I knew everyone’s eyes were on me, that I could mess up at any second and everything would come crashing down. But there was also this sense of power. I had everyone’s attention in the palm of my hand. I could do whatever I wanted with it. I could deviate from the script, I could dance... I could tear my clothes off and jump up and down if I wanted.”
You laughed, watching me with amused curiosity. “I can imagine your teacher would have been thrilled with that.”
“I loved that feeling,” I continued. “I loved getting to tell a story. And sure, sometimes you play a character that you don’t care for, or you’re telling a story that isn’t your own. But you get to make it your own. Because at the end of the day, it’s you up there. You’re the one with the power to shape people’s minds.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, my face turning red. “That sounds so arrogant to say.”
“No. I know what you mean,” you said, sitting forward. “It’s how I feel sometimes. Like, even though I’m not in politics or anything like my dad, I’m still a public figure. People care about what I say whether I like it or not. I try to use it for things I care about.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I was gonna say, I read about that interview you gave with 60 Minutes. It was about suicide, right?”
You smiled, shaking your head. “I got so much shit for that. My dad had just gotten the nomination in the primary and there I was, on national television, talking about the time I tried to kill myself.”
You blushed, your face falling. “I’m sorry, this is NOT appropriate first date conversation-”
“No. It’s okay. Keep going.”
“I don’t know, I mean, I was only 16. I didn’t know… well, anything,” you said, looking out across the harbor. I could see the sun illuminating your ginger beard.
“It’s an epidemic. Queer kids are 5 times as likely to try and kill themselves as anyone else. And yet shit like conversion therapy is still legal in more states than not. Somebody needs to talk about it.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said.
You looked at me with such a look of passion that I thought for a moment you were angry with me. But then your face softened and you gave me a small smile. “You know, it’s funny. I got so many emails after that interview. So many kids who reached out to me to tell me that they’d been thinking about killing themselves. They just needed somebody to talk to.”
I felt a pit in my stomach at that moment. Because as I watched you speak, as I watched the sun streaming across your face, I realized just how much I liked you. And it made deceiving you feel all the more dirty.
Part of me wanted to tell you the truth right then and there, to tell you that I wasn’t gay. Maybe there was some way I could recruit you into Ecclesium without having to lie to you. Before I could say anything, however, the waitress walked over with our oysters and two glasses of wine.
“Perfect timing,” you said, grinning as you picked up an oyster shell.
“I’m gonna need you to show me what I’m supposed to do here,” I said sheepishly.
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got you.” You winked at me.
I blushed. Fuck, how could I tell you the truth?
You showed me how to add the horseradish, the little red sauce, and squeeze the lemon. I held the oyster up to my mouth, fully expecting to hurl.
“Just swallow it whole,” you said as you demonstrated.
I followed your lead, letting it slide straight down my gullet. I winced in anticipation, but found myself pleasantly surprised by the taste.
“That was good!” I exclaimed just a little too loudly.
You laughed. “Try another!”
The next one I chewed a little before swallowing, trying to savor some of the flavor. It was much better than I had expected. I found myself slurping down the rest of the oysters as you laughed in amusement.
“I told you you’d like them,” you said.
I blushed at my greediness. “They’re really good,” I said, my mouth still full of oyster.
As the dinner went along, I found myself feeling more and more comfortable around you. You were so easy to talk to, so easy to open up to. I knew you were going to be an excellent recruit. You were so charismatic, so full of life. I could easily see us running R&Rs together. I wished that I could tell you more about it, but Dominus hadn’t wanted me to mention the group just yet.
I felt giddy on the car ride home. I’d had a couple of glasses of wine at dinner, but I think the giddiness really just came from being in your presence.
“I can’t believe you don’t wanna know who the Saran Wrap Killer was!” I exclaimed, loosening my tie. “That’s literally everyone’s first question.”
You rolled your eyes. “Please. We all know the Saran Wrap Killer was Mrs. Aspen.”
I stared at you in shock. “How the fuck did you guess that?”
“She was literally the only person who had motive!” you said emphatically. “Plus everybody else was too busy fucking each other whenever somebody got murdered. I swear, that show was like a softcore porno.”
I laughed, then leaned in and said, “We used to have this intimacy coordinator on set. She would help us figure out all the different positions and stuff so no one could see the little modesty garments we wore over our junk.”
You opened your eyes in shock as a smile spread across your face. “You could have fooled me... I think I rewatched that scene between you and Cheryl in the shower like 10 times to try and see if I could spot your junk. They did get a great shot of your ass, though.”
You bit your lip and smiled coyly at me. My stomach was full of butterflies again.
Before either of us could say anything, the car pulled up to my apartment.
“This was really fun,” I said.
“Come on, I’ll walk you to your door,” you said as you opened your door to get out.
I reached for the handle and opened the car door. My heart was pounding in my chest. I didn’t know what was going to happen. Were you going to try to come upstairs with me? Did I want that?
Of course I didn’t. Or at least I thought I didn’t. But something in me was reluctant to part ways. We were having such a nice time and I wasn’t ready for the night to end.
As we walked over to the door to my apartment, the two Secret Service agents followed a few paces behind. I glanced back nervously.
“I’m sorry about them,” you said. “I know they’re kind of a buzzkill, but they’re really good guys. Plus it wouldn’t be a date without my shadows following me around.”
“It’s okay,” I said as we stopped outside my door. “I’m used to being watched.”
You laughed, then grew quiet as you looked up at me. I was surprised to see your eyes full of fear. I was the one who was terrified. What could you possibly have to be afraid of?
Suddenly I could feel your hands on my chest. You looked in my eyes, lips trembling as you leaned up and kissed me.
The thing that surprised me the most was how warm your lips were. I had never kissed a man before, so I had no idea what to expect. The scratch of your beard was definitely a surprise, that’s for sure. But your lips were so soft and warm, a part of me wanted to automatically open my mouth and kiss you back.
That thought terrified me.
Before I knew what was happening, I had lifted my hands and pushed you back. I barely had time to register the look of shock on your face as you stumbled backwards before I felt myself being pummeled to the ground. The next thing I knew I was staring up in a daze at the light above my apartment door with the wind knocked out of me.
“Stop it!” I heard you yell. “Oh my God, Colin, I’m so sorry.”
The weight on my chest was quickly alleviated. I coughed several times, looking over to see the Secret Service agent scrambling to his feet. The other one was standing over me, pointing his weapon right at my face.
“Stay down!” he yelled.
I weakly raised my hands, too confused to understand what was going on.
“Are you all right?” the other Secret Service agent asked you. I still remember the look of shock on his face as you smacked him on the arm.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked angrily. “He didn’t do anything!”
“He just shoved you-”
“Yeah, because I fucking made a fool out of myself, not because he was trying to attack me.”
You shoved the other agent’s gun away from me and grabbed my hand, helping me to my feet. I was still getting my breath back as you said, “Colin, I’m so sorry. Please excuse them.”
You turned to glare at them. “Give us some space. NOW.”
They backed off a few yards, still staring at me suspiciously.
“Well, I’ve officially fucked everything up,” you said as you turned back to me. You could barely bring your eyes to meet mine, but when you did, I could see they were full of hurt. I wanted to reach out and touch you, but I didn’t. Something in me was holding me back.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have sprung that on you. I just thought… I don’t know. I guess I just thought you were into me.”
You stared at me as if begging me to say something. I was at a loss for words, still unsure of what was going on inside me. This was all just a big misunderstanding. I wasn’t gay, I was sure of that… I had BEEN sure of that…
But this was what I had feared would come to pass. This was the reason why I was reluctant to go along with Dominus’ plan in the first place. I didn’t want you to get hurt. And now it seemed as if I was hurting you more than ever by being unable to give you what you wanted.
After a moment of silence, you turned away from me. I could see your eyes were glassy.
“Well, I should go,” you said. “Again, I’m sorry about all this. I did have a really nice time… Goodbye, Colin.”
I watched as you walked away and got back in the car. You didn’t turn to look at me before you left. I think you were too embarrassed. I watched the car drive off, wondering what on earth I was going to say to Dominus the next time I saw him.
Turns out, I didn’t need to say much of anything.
“I’m confused, man,” said Dominus, staring at me disapprovingly from over those horn-rimmed glasses. I could hear the veiled rage underlying his words. “See, I thought we’d agreed that you were going to bring him in. How does pushing him away make him want to join our cause?”
“I do want to bring him in, I just- I can’t give him THAT. I’m not gay.”
“Who said anything about being gay?” asked Dominus. “This is a mission, it’s the same as running an R&R. You don’t have to like the guy, you just have to give him what he wants long enough to get him through the front door.”
I stared at him in shock. “You can’t seriously be expecting me to sleep with him.”
Dominus shrugged. “That’s up to you.”
I scoffed. “I can’t have sex with a guy. Why don’t you get one of the gay members to do it, like Josh or Michael, I’m sure they would-”
“He doesn’t want Josh or Michael,” snapped Dominus. “He wants you.”
“I can’t lie to him. It’s wrong.”
Dominus sighed. “Let me ask you something, Colin. Why do you think that lying is wrong?”
I looked at him in confusion. “Because it hurts people.”
Dominus nodded. “Okay. And if the Nazis were pounding on your door, asking you if you had any Jews hidden upstairs, then by your logic you would have to say yes, because you wouldn’t want to hurt the Nazis’ feelings. And then the Jews would be taken and killed. Does that sound right to you?”
“I mean, obviously not-”
“The truth is that life isn't as black and white as you’re making it out to be. People do bad things all the time, but they’re usually for selfish reasons. You, on the other hand, are acting in the interest of being of service to others. Don’t lose sight of that.”
“I understand what you’re saying, I do,” I said. “But I just don’t understand why we can’t bring him in another way. Without lying.”
Dominus smiled at me. “Do you know what I think? I think this is all part of a larger pattern.”
“What pattern?”
He leaned forward. “Self-sabotage. You’ve said it yourself, that’s a limitation you struggle with. It kept you from getting forward in your career before you came to us. It almost derailed your training, when you decided to put a relationship with a woman before your commitments here. And now it’s threatening your ability to fulfill a task that you committed to. One that’s going to help thousands of people.”
He walked over to me and put his hand on my shoulder, looking in my eyes. “Stop getting in your own way,” he said.
I looked in his eyes. I could still feel the pit in my stomach telling me that something was wrong. But I told myself it was just my fear, my weakness. I shoved it down further inside me and nodded.
“How do I fix this?” I asked.
He clapped me on the shoulder and grinned. “Don’t worry. I know exactly what you’re gonna say.”
____________________
You sounded surprised to hear from me when you picked up the phone.
“Colin? Is that you?” you asked, your voice slightly higher than normal.
“Zach, hi,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I had read lines from a script before, but never to someone who didn’t know that’s what I was doing. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for the other night.”
“It’s okay,” you said quietly. “I really shouldn’t have done that, I was being too forward-”
“No,” I continued. I paused for a moment, readying myself to read the next lines.
“It’s not that I didn’t want to kiss you. I just didn’t want to do it with all those Secret Service guys around.”
You were silent. “Oh,” you said after a moment.
“But I was thinking maybe we could hang out again? Someplace a little more private, if you had anything in mind?”
I had no idea what Dominus meant by that, nor what you would suggest. I could only hope that whatever our second date was, I would be able to get through it without having to have sex with you. As committed as I was to the cause, I seriously did not think that I could stomach having sex with another man. Not even you.
“I’d like that a lot,” you said after a moment. “And I think I have an idea of where we can go. Tell me, do you burn easily?”
You invited me along on a helicopter ride to a private beach along the Chesapeake Bay where your family owned a beach house. I climbed in the helicopter, my legs wobbling from nervousness.
“First time in a helicopter?” you asked, grinning at me from the other seat.
I nodded queasily.
“Don’t worry. It’s only a 15 minute ride. Then I promise to have you back on solid ground.”
I noticed you keeping your distance from me. I think that you were still feeling stung from my rebuke earlier. It pained me to think that I had created this rift between us. Despite my uneasiness at riding in a helicopter, I tried my best to make small talk during the ride to the beach. I think after a few minutes I had warmed you up to the point where you were your old self again.
When we got out of the helicopter and stepped onto the hot concrete, you grabbed my hand and dragged me up past the dune towards your beach house. I was already in my board shorts, so I took a look around the house as you changed into your swimsuit in the other room.
The house was right on the water, separated only by a small dune with a porch overlooking the Chesapeake Bay. I hadn’t grown up with money, and when I became an actor I spent all of my money on Ecclesium, so I wasn’t used to all of this luxury.
“Ready?” I heard you say behind me.
I turned around to see you in a blue and white striped speedo and an oversized button-down beach shirt that laid bare your torso. I turned red seeing you almost naked like that for the first time.
You were smoother than I had expected, mostly hairless except for the smattering on your chest and of course your ginger beard. Your body was lithe and pale, but I noticed your obliques were well defined and you filled out your swimsuit nicely. The personal trainer in me wondered what your workout routine was like.
You smiled at me as you caught me staring. “Come on, stud,” you said as you grabbed my hand, pulling me after you.
I remember feeling slightly embarrassed as I held your hand when we walked down the beach. It felt like we were being watched, even though there was no one else around. Perhaps it was the two Secret Service agents who were at least a dozen yards back, following us discreetly.
“So, what’s one thing you wish I’d ask you?” you said to me as we strolled along the beach.
“What do you mean?” I said, smiling. The discomfort was beginning to slip away as we fell into the same easy rhythm of conversation we’d had a few nights earlier.
“You know, like a wild card. Something you’d like to talk about but you feel awkward bringing up inorganically.”
I laughed. “I like that. I think I need some time to think about it first, though.”
“Take your time,” you said, winking at me. “I’ll be here all day.”
“What about you?” I asked. “What’s one thing you wish I’d ask you?”
You were silent for a moment, your face growing thoughful. “I guess I wish you’d ask me about my dad.”
I looked at you, confused. “I would think that would be the thing everyone asks you about.”
You laughed. “You’re right about that. But you’re different. The other night at dinner, you didn’t ask me a single question about him. What he was like, whether or not you could get a meeting with him, whether or not he dyed his hair…”
I chuckled.
“Seriously though. Normally I don’t really like opening up about my relationship with him. It feels like I’m... spilling government secrets or something. But you make me feel safe. Like I can trust you.”
The pit in my stomach came back. I shoved it down again, trying to focus on the plan.
“So what IS it like, then? Being the President’s son?”
You smiled sadly. “It’s like being in a play. And you know all your lines, and you know everyone’s watching you and expecting you to do and say all the right things and act a certain way. But you hate the play, and you don’t like your character, and you just wish you could go off-book and say whatever the fuck you want. But you can’t, because then the show would fall apart. So you go through the motions like you have a choice.”
“You don’t seem to be somebody who’s going through the motions,” I said. “I think you’re very outspoken.”
You rolled your eyes. “Please. That’s me at about 15%. Trust me, if I could say the things I was really thinking…”
I stopped and looked at you. “I wanna know what you’re really thinking.”
You looked at me with a sudden look of fear across your face. It was the same one from the other night.
“I’m thinking... that you’re the first guy that I’ve met who knows what it’s like to feel the way I do. To be in the spotlight 24/7. And I’m thinking that maybe you… maybe you would be able to hold my heart.”
You blushed suddenly. “I’m sorry, that sounds dumb-”
“It doesn’t sound dumb,” I said, pulling you in close to me.
I could feel your skin warm against mine. I didn’t have the slightest clue what I was doing. It was like my body was acting before my brain was able to respond. I wasn’t thinking about Dominus, or my mission, or even the Secret Service agents boring a hole in the back of my head.
All I could see was you.
“Can I kiss you?” I asked softly.
You nodded. I leaned down and kissed you gently on the lips, my eyes closing. I breathed in deeply as our faces crushed together, my hands gripping your lower back. You opened your mouth to allow my tongue to enter. I was surprised by how sweet you tasted, almost like you had been eating strawberries only moments before we kissed.
You lifted your hands and wrapped them around my neck, holding onto me as we kissed. I could feel the hot sun on my neck, the sweat dripping down my abs as we stood there in the calm ocean breeze.
After a moment, you pulled away to catch your breath.
“Wow,” you said breathlessly. “Cheryl must love kissing you.”
I laughed.
“Seriously,” you said. “Do you kiss all the boys like that?”
“I’ve never kissed a boy before,” I said simply.
You blinked. “What?”
I nodded. “This is my first time… with another guy.”
“Oh my God,” you said, removing your hands from behind my neck. You put them up to your face and stared at me. “This makes so much sense.”
“What does?”
“I’ve been wondering what’s going on with you. One minute you seem so into me and the next it’s like you cringe at my touch. I thought it was something I was doing, maybe I was coming on too strong-”
“It’s not you,” I said quickly. “I think... I’m still getting used to all this.”
“It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We don’t have to rush it. And if you just want to be friends, that’s cool too.”
You took my hand and gave me a small smile. “You’re a really good person, Colin. I’m grateful that I got to meet the real you, not the one that’s on-screen.”
I smiled. God, you were just so fucking perfect. It tortured me that I was deceiving you, that I was pretending to be gay…
But was I pretending? I had to admit, that kiss felt pretty real. I had done it out of pure instinct. Not because I felt I had to, but because I wanted to. And I had enjoyed it, truly I had. At least if my semi-hardon was any indication.
I wished that I could go somewhere to clear my head, to sort through all of the things that I was feeling.
“Do you want to stay for dinner?” you asked me suddenly. “I was going to make shrimp tacos up at the house tonight, and I thought if you didn’t need to be back or anything, maybe you could stay overnight.”
You put your hands up in a gesture of peace. “I promise I won’t try anything. We can just talk, get to know each other a little better.”
I smiled. “I’d like to get to know you better, Zach.”
That much was true.
We got back up to the house shortly before sunset. We both changed out of our swimsuits into shorts, then you poured us each a glass of wine as we sat on your back porch overlooking the bay. I could smell the salt of the seawater wafting in through the breeze, my body in a state of warm relaxation from a day in the sun.
“How long have you owned this place?” I asked you.
“We bought it a few years ago but we used to rent it back when my dad was just a Senator. We’d spend a week down here every summer, my siblings and my parents and I.”
You chuckled. “It’s funny, I used to hate coming here.”
“Really?” I asked. “This place is like a paradise.”
You nodded. “You’re right. But when you’re a kid who just wants to play video games all day and gets sunburnt indoors at night, you don’t typically love the beach.”
You sipped your wine and pulled your legs up onto your chair, looking out across the bay. “I did like getting to see my dad though. It was hard not having him here most of the time.”
“Didn’t he come home on the weekends and stuff? I mean, I thought I’d read that. They said he would commute a lot.” I said.
You raised an eyebrow at me. “You know, it’s not exactly fair that you get to know all this stuff about me.”
“You’ve seen me naked,” I laughed.
You grinned. “Almost naked. The modesty garments, remember?”
You sighed. “But yeah, I mean, he would come home most weekends to Rhode Island. But it’s not like I got any alone time with him. There was always someone’s soccer game to go to, or a dinner, or he’d wanna spend time with my mom. I never really felt like he and I had something to ourselves. But here at the beach each summer, we used to go fishing. Everyone else in my family hated it, but my dad and I would get up at 6 am and go every morning.”
“I wouldn’t have taken you for a fisherman,” I said, smirking.
You looked at me. “I’m not. I never liked it. I just wanted something that was for us. And he liked fishing, and no one else did, so…”
You smiled, shrugging slightly. I could see your shirt slipping down over your shoulder, revealing your smooth skin. Not for the first time that day, I felt myself wanting to reach out and touch you.
You finished your wine glass and set it down on the table. “What do you say we get started on dinner?” you asked, putting your hand on my knee. “I’m gonna need you as my sous-chef.”
I deveined the shrimp while you sliced the limes and got together the rest of the ingredients. You cooked the shrimp on a cast iron skillet while the tortillas warmed in the oven. By the time everything came out, I was practically salivating from the smell.
Those shrimp tacos were the best I think I’d ever had in my life. We sat at the table, just the two of us, eating the tacos with some chips and salsa.
“Okay, so I have to ask,” you said as you dipped your chip into the verde salsa and brought it to your mouth with a crunch. “What do you like in a guy?”
I coughed, my mouth full of shrimp taco. “I don’t know,” I said, grabbing a napkin and wiping my mouth. “I’ve never really thought about it.”
You raised an eyebrow. “How have you never thought about it? Just because you’ve never been with another guy doesn’t mean you’ve never LOOKED at another guy.”
“Well, what do you like in guys?” I asked.
You pursed your lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you asked, winking.
You thought for a moment. “I like your arms. I remember there was this scene in Chasing Emory where you had just finished boxing and you had this sweat dripping down your bicep. God, I wanted to just lick it off.”
I pulled my sleeve up and flexed, grinning at you.
You laughed, clapping your hands together. “There’s the money shot!” you said.
I put my arm down, still smiling. I watched as you took another bite of chips and salsa, trying not to let it drip into your lap.
“I like your hair,” I said suddenly.
You raised your eyebrows, grinning. “Yeah?”
I nodded. “I like how wavy it is. And I like your beard, it suits you. Really, you’ve got a great style.”
“You are a very sweet man, Colin Baker,” you said, smiling at me. “Now, how about we continue our fiesta theme with a margarita?”
After we cleaned up, we moved over to the couch in the living room, sipping our margaritas. There were no Secret Service agents inside the room for once, although I’m sure they were lurking right outside the door.
You looked so cozy in your short shorts as you curled up on the couch next to me. Your legs looked so soft, just a little bit of hair on your calves leading up to your milky white thighs. I wanted to reach out and stroke your leg as we talked.
Should I? What would that mean?
“Okay, so I have to ask,” you said, putting your hand on my arm. “What IS the one thing you wish I would ask you?”
I stared at you, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew instantly what I wanted you to ask me. I just wasn’t sure if I had the courage to say it out loud.
You raised an eyebrow. “Time’s running out, Colin.”
I knocked back the last of my margarita and set it on the table.
“I wish you would ask me to kiss you.”
The look on your face made me want to jump across the couch and kiss you right then and there. You looked so surprised, flattered, and excited all at the same time.
You were silent for a moment as you stared at me. What you were thinking, I can’t imagine. But then...
“Will you kiss me?” you asked.
Before the words were even fully out of your mouth, I was on you. I covered your body with mine, my hands finally getting to glide along your smooth, soft legs. I kissed you hungrily, the passion rising in me like it would tear right through me.
Unlike our kiss on the beach, which was gentle and soft, this kiss was completely out of my control. My tongue slipped into your mouth and began to explore you as my hands did the same on your body. I could feel your sweet, supple cheeks in my hands as I slid them underneath your shorts. I wanted to feel every part of you, using my hands to chart you in my mind like an unexplored territory.
And you were doing the same to me. You kissed me back with a ferocity and a strength no woman had ever matched. You wrapped your legs around me as we kissed, your hands roaming up underneath my shirt to touch my abs. I moaned at the feeling of your hands on my skin. I got hard as I felt your hardness against mine.
You reached your hands up and ran them through my hair, moaning into my mouth as our bodies intertwined. I could taste the sweetness and sourness of the margarita in your mouth, but I could also taste the sweetness of what was there before—the strawberries.
I gasped when I felt your hand slip under my shorts and touch my cock for the first time. You started rubbing me through my underwear, your soft hands cradling my balls and squeezing them gently. I was precumming so hard that a giant wet spot started to form on the front of my boxer briefs. I was so wet I was afraid you were going to think I had already cum.
I reached my hand up and started to run my fingers through your beard, tracing the soft red hair with my fingers. I had never touched another man’s beard before, but something in me was drawn to yours. I could feel your tongue against mine, your hand in my pants, your beard underneath my fingertips. Every sensation was like a different thread on a tapestry, all woven together in a way that lifted me out of my body and onto a higher plane.
You rolled us over, your body now covering mine. You were beginning to take charge now, your tongue probing my open mouth, the fingertips of your right hand grazing against my chest as your other hand slipped underneath my underwear to firmly take hold of my cock.
All of a sudden you turned my head to the side, licking and sucking and kissing down the side of my neck as you stroked me. I let out a guttural moan, surrendering myself over to you and your touch.
Usually, when I was with women, I had always been the one in charge, the “aggressor” who did the ravishing. But you ravished me with such passion that I felt completely under your control. You stroked me to the point where I was so hard it almost hurt, my hard cock aching for release. Your kisses on my neck made my entire body shiver and my toes curl.
Finally you lifted yourself off of my neck and looked deep into my eyes, your hand still on my cock.
“Fuck,” I said breathlessly.
You smiled, then leaned in and kissed me gently on the lips. We kept our eyes locked onto each other as you lowered your head down to my crotch. My dick was pulsing a deep, dark red in your hand. You kept your eyes on mine as you began to lick up from the base all the way towards the head.
I moaned at the feeling of your tongue as it flicked the slit of my penis. You pulled down my foreskin to reveal the sensitive head, covered in precum. You stroked me for a moment, then closed your eyes as you took me into you. My hardness leaked inside of the warmth and wetness of your mouth. I reached out and ran my fingers through your wavy brown hair, gripping and kneading it as you pleasured me.
My head was awash in a sea of pleasure, with thoughts and fears bobbing up and down amongst the waves.
What was I doing?
Was I gay?
Why did this feel so good?
The thoughts quickly dissipated as you took me deeper into your throat, your tongue lapping against my balls as you deepthroated me. I moaned, no longer caring about the thoughts as I found myself completely powerless over the feeling of pleasure you so freely gave me. You cupped my balls in your hand, rolling them around like marbles as you took my dick all the way to the base.
Being a Hollywood star, I had been with my fair share of women, but I had never been with someone who was able to take all of my girth into their mouth. I wasn’t the longest by any means, but my thickness usually meant that the blowjobs I received were mostly partial rather than all-consuming.
But you were different. You sucked me with such vigor and suction that I could feel my orgasm steadily approaching. A voice in my head told me to let it happen, to let you take me over the edge and feel that blessed release. My hips began to thrust up involuntarily as my body reacted to yours.
I put my hand on your head and lifted you up off of my cock. You stared into my eyes, your lips wet from my cock. I rubbed your lower lip with my thumb, surprised by the intense need and desire I felt within my heart.
“I wanna make you feel good,” I said.
You smiled. You crawled up and placed your lips against mine, kissing me softly and stroking my cheek.
“Okay,” you whispered.
I looked at you nervously. I did want to make you feel good, but…
“What’s wrong?” you asked.
“I’ve… I’ve never sucked a dick before.”
You smiled and traced your fingertips across my chest. “That’s okay,” you said. “I was thinking of something else, anyway.”
I looked at you quizzically. You took my hand in yours and began to run it down your body. I let you guide me as my fingers slipped behind you towards your lower back. You guided my hand beneath your shorts, beneath your underwear, until my fingers were resting on your smooth hole.
“Oh,” I said, blushing. “I’ve never done this either.”
“You’ve been with women, right?” you asked, your fingers rubbing against mine as my hand still rested in between your cheeks.
I nodded.
“Think of it just like that. Let your body guide you. I’ll let you know if I want more.”
You kissed me, your hands cupping my face as you pressed yourself against me once again. I put my arm around your back and held you as my other hand began to slowly trace up and down between your cheeks, feeling the smoothness of your hole. I closed my eyes, taking myself back to the last time I had fingered a woman.
The only difficulty was that, unlike with a woman, you weren’t getting wet down there. I wanted to slip my finger further inside you, but I was afraid that it would hurt you. I pulled my hand out of your shorts and lifted it to my mouth. I stopped kissing you long enough to wet my finger before returning it to your sweet hole.
I traced around your hole with my finger, circling in deeper and deeper with every rotation. You began to moan into my mouth, rubbing your cock against mine the further my finger penetrated you. I slipped my finger in past the first knuckle, wiggling it around as I explored your asshole. The feeling of your hole around my finger was curious and new, and I continued to move my finger in a circular motion as I felt it enveloped by your warmth.
You let out a high-pitched moan as I buried my finger all the way inside you. I began to slowly move it in and out of you, feeling you rub up against me as I brought pleasure to your hole. I had never seen a man so in tune with his asshole before, so quick to receive pleasure from the sensations down there. I kissed you deeper, reveling in the noises you made as my finger slipped in and out.
“I want your mouth,” you said breathlessly as you broke our kiss. “Will you eat me out?”
“I don’t know…” I said. I wanted so desperately to make you feel good, but I didn’t know if I was ready for this.
Your face fell slightly as you saw the look of fear in my eyes. “Please,” you whispered to me. “I want you so badly, Colin.”
Fuck. I felt my heart sink to think that I could disappoint you. I knew that no matter how much fear or trepidation I felt, I would do anything in that moment to make you happy.
I kissed you again, then flipped us over so that I was on top of you on the couch. I could feel your body writhing underneath mine as I sat up on my knees, staring down at you with my heart beating a mile a minute.
“Turn around,” I said.
You rolled over onto your stomach, clutching the pillow from the couch against you as you lifted your ass into the air. Fuck, your ass looked so good in those shorts. I could feel my mouth watering as I reached down and slowly began to peel them back. Your pale cheeks came slowly into view as I pulled your shorts down, revealing your smooth hole to me.
I pulled your shorts all the way off and tossed them to the side, turning back to see your legs spread open before me. You had your cock in your hand, stroking it softly as you presented your ass to me. I could see your hole peeking out from between your cheeks, wet from the saliva I had used to finger you.
I lowered my head to your hole and rubbed the side of my face up against your ass. I hadn’t shaved in a few days, so I had a layer of scruff that made you moan.
“Do that again, PLEASE,” you moaned to me.
I rubbed my face all around your hole, using my jaw to rub up and down your perineum as you moaned uncontrollably underneath me. Your moaning made my cock begin to leak even harder, which gave me the push I needed to stick out my tongue and lick your hole.
I braced myself for an unpleasant taste but was pleasantly surprised to find that your hole wasn’t unpleasant at all. In fact, something about it felt almost natural. I closed my eyes as I began to tongue your hole, kissing it lovingly as I pushed deeper and deeper inside you.
You reached your hand and held my head against your ass, your hand stroking your cock faster and faster. I could hear the sound of your hand sliding up and down your wet cock as I made out with your hole. Your breathing became heavy and your muscles began to tense as you got closer and closer to orgasm.
“I’m getting close,” you whispered.
Something in me took over in that moment, something primal and carnal. I sat up on my knees and took my leaking cock, rubbing it against your hole. I leaned down and began to kiss and suck your neck just as you had done to me as I thrust my cock in between your cheeks up towards your lower back.
“Fuck, I’m cumming,” you moaned as you began to shoot, your cock spewing thick ropes of cum onto the couch underneath you.
I wrapped my arms tightly around your torso and began to rub my cock between your cheeks even faster, feeling my orgasm fast approaching. I slammed my hips against yours as my cock began to spew its own sticky seed up across your lower back.
My fingers dug into the sides of your ass as I jerked against you, my breathing harsh and ragged. My knees gave out, causing me to come crashing down on top of you as my dick continued to pulse against you. I lay there trying to catch my breath as I felt the last of my seed dribble out of me, pooling into a puddle on your lower back.
Suddenly I felt your hand tapping me weakly on the leg. I lifted my body to allow you to roll over, then laid back down against your chest. You rubbed my back with your hand, resting your chin against the top of my head as you held me. I laid there with my eyes closed for several minutes, still reveling in the afterglow.
“How’s THAT for your first time with a man?” you asked, chuckling.
I looked up into your green eyes as they glittered in the light. What was I going to do with you?
If you enjoyed this story, consider supporting the author on Substack.
