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Against his own desires, Craig succumbed. Robert could work his body into a puddle of desire without thinking. “God, your mouth…so good.”

Robert continued working on his cock, rolling his tongue over the head and tip which was freely leaking by this point, stimulating each nerve along his shaft as he pulled Craig’s pants the rest of the way off.

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Robert wet his finger and slipped it into the crease of Craig’s ass, snaking it towards his hole. Craig bucked his hips again, electrified by the intensity of Robert’s knowing hands. He glanced down, catching Robert’s lips pulling up into a wicked grin around his cock as he continued to invade Craig’s hole, hitting his prostate with each probe of his finger.

Craig’s cock became even harder, straining against his skin. Just as his orgasm began to build inside him, Robert released his cock. “Oh, no you don’t. Not yet.”

Robert’s eyes glittered with the lustful knowledge of his lover’s body, always able to stop at the precise moment before Craig came. “I’m going to fuck the cum out of you.”

The statement momentarily cut through his pleasure. The only time Robert paid this kind of attention to him lately was when they had sex. Stop. You told yourself to stop thinking like that. He allowed Robert to flip him over so he knelt on the couch. Robert’s hands cupped each of his ass cheeks and he lowered his head between Craig’s legs. Hot breath blew against his hole and then Robert’s tongue flicked over the surface, making him tremble.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get hotter, Robert sealed his lips around Craig’s tight opening and ran his tongue in circles, gently yet feverishly urging the ring of muscle to loosen and open for him. Craig moaned, a breath’s ahhh escaping his mouth.

With each circle, Robert’s tongue probed deeper into him until he fucked Craig’s ass with his tongue. He’s a sexual black belt. No doubt about that.

“You ready for me?” Robert’s husky voice was filled with need. Craig answered him by lifting his hips a bit higher and arching his back to give Robert full exposure to his wet and twitching anus. He grabbed Craig’s hips and positioned the head of his cock against Craig’s opening. In one smooth thrust, he shoved himself all the way in, eliciting a gasp from Craig as the shock of sudden penetration filled all of his senses. He controlled his breathing while adjusting to the stretch and burn, but after years and years of sex with Robert, his muscles relaxed to Robert’s body as naturally as his lungs drew in air.

Craig pushed back, matching Robert’s thrusts, his ass meeting Robert’s hips in a regular rhythm. Each time Robert thrust into Craig’s tight channel, his cock nudged his gland and sent ripples of pleasure searing through Craig’s body. Craig’s arms and legs began to tingle, his muscles turning to rubber, as his orgasm built inside him until he feared he wouldn’t be able to support his own weight.

Robert increased his pace and began switching his angle with each thrust. “You’re close, baby. Your hole quivers around my cock when you’re ready to come. Go ahead, let loose.”

Craig obeyed Robert’s instructions, arching his body as the orgasm built in intensity within him. Unable to hold out any longer, Craig’s nerves exploded deep inside of him, radiating out so his entire body quivered with pleasure. He grabbed his cock and began pumping as jet after hot jet of cum erupted from him and onto the armrest of the leather couch.

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Once his orgasm subsided, Robert quickened his pace and his grip on Craig’s hips tightened. A few more thrusts and Robert cried out, slamming his cock deep into Craig’s ass. Craig’s insides filled with hot semen as Robert’s cock pulsed repeatedly.

Once the aftershock of Robert’s orgasm passed, he pulled out abruptly, heading to the bathroom to clean up, Craig assumed.

Left on his hands and knees, spent from his orgasm, and abandoned without a word, Craig used what strength he had left to push himself off the couch and into a standing position. He went into the kitchen and dampened a washcloth, returning to the couch and cleaning the white liquid streaks of his spunk before they had a chance to set in and leave a stain. Robert will have a fit if this leaves a mark.

A single wry laugh escaped him. When they began dating, they had sex on everything, and then lay together in their own semen, kissing and talking, not caring whether it dried, stained, or leaked. Sex had been about being together and holding one another. Craig had enjoyed their after sex tenderness even more than the sex itself. The physical act was about the pleasure of the moment until release, the holding and loving after sex was far more intimate. Being held, talking in sleepy mumbles about their love and their futures and how good they felt together gave Craig far greater happiness and satisfaction than an orgasm ever could.

Once again, he pushed his thoughts aside. The days of snuggling and attentiveness had long passed and pining wouldn’t change anything. Besides, eight years is a long time.

I can’t expect the romance to last forever. A part of him always refuted that particular thought. Yes, I should expect that. But he never paid attention.

Robert came back into the living room, distracting him from his thoughts. “Why are you still naked? We’re going out.” Craig held up the wash cloth. “Oh, good thinking.

That couch cost twenty-five hundred dollars. I would be seriously pissed if it got ruined.” He checked the couch to make sure Craig had cleaned all traces of semen.

“Good. Get changed now. I’m starved.”

Craig walked into their bedroom, depositing the washcloth into the hamper, and selected a pair of comfortable jeans and a t-shirt. Once he dressed and had checked himself in the bathroom mirror, he walked back into the living room. Robert got up and the two headed out to grab dinner.

As they walked through the streets, Craig watched couples strolling idly hand in hand, stopping in front of store windows and cuddling. Other couples leaned against walls, sat on benches, or huddled together on stoops, enjoying each other’s company and stealing sweet kisses. With loving affection all around and Robert next to him, distinctly not giving him that kind of attention, Craig felt more alone than if he had actually been by himself.

Not wanting to ruin what promised to be a good dinner, Craig pushed his thoughts from his mind once again, a skill he had become disturbingly good at over the past couple years. By the time they reached the restaurant, he had successfully shed his sour mood, ready to listen to Robert discuss his day.

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Jeremy walked back to his classroom after the last of his second grade students had been picked up by their parents. The classroom was clean, due to his desire to instill a sense of responsibility in his students to pick up after themselves. Far too many kids believed some magic clean-up fairy materialized when they weren’t around and picked up after them. Jeremy was not playing into that fantasy.

He sat down at his desk and began leafing through the pile of stories his students had written about a memorable experience with their families. Story structure was an important aspect of second grade writing and Jeremy was pleased many of the students were beginning to get the hang of it.

He was looking for a clear beginning, middle, and ending and also wanted to ensure the children remained on-topic. The first few papers focused on topics typical of seven-year-old children. Neil had written about the Yankees game his father took him to see. Clarissa’s was about the time she went to the beauty salon with her mother and got her nails done. Joey wrote about the ski trip his family had taken during winter break.

The topic of Seth’s paper caught Jeremy’s attention and he read the story all the way through, taking his time, ignoring the spelling errors.

Two yeers ago, my mommy and daddy told me they were getting a davors.

Jeremy was immediately intrigued. He knew what divorce was like. His parents had divorced shortly after they moved from Massachusetts to Arizona. His father had only gone with them out of obligation. Never adjusting to a new life and new location, his parents had decided to split a year later.

My mommy and daddy told me to sit down because they had something inportan to tell me.

They both lookd seerius.

Jeremy thought about Seth. He was a quiet kid who rarely raised his hand in class.

He had plenty of friends in class, but he seemed a bit older than the other kids. An old soul was the phrase his mom would have used.

Jeremy could relate. He had become much more serious once they moved to Arizona. Losing his best friend, the one person he truly loved with all his heart, had taken a piece of his innocence from him. He had to acknowledge the world wasn’t perfect and fair. Sometimes bad things did happen. Then, when his parents had announced they were getting a divorce, he had become even more jaded. What ever happened to the dreams Craig and I had shared? They had evaporated the second his parents decided to move.

That wasn’t entirely true. He had allowed their friendship to slip. Calling once a week had been hard, but when he started calling twice a month and then once a month, the distance between them grew. Calling less frequently, had backfired. He had hoped 15

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Craig would call him more frequently. Instead, their conversations became more distant and strained.

Jeremy shook his head as he always did when he allowed his thoughts to return to Craig. He continued reading Seth’s paper.

Mommy told me that when mommys and daddys fall in luv, they get mareed. But somtims they don love eech othr anymore.

The depth of Seth’s story pleased Jeremy.

Daddy said even tho he and mommy didnt luv eech other, they stil love me. I seed both of them was crying.

Jeremy couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for such a young child to have to cope with his parents’ getting a divorce. He’d had a hard enough time coping when he was sixteen.

I got up and gav my mommy and my daddy a hug. They were sad. That is when I lernd somtims kids have to tak care of ther parents.

Jeremy put the paper down, impressed with this story. He would have to make sure to talk to Seth and tell him how proud he was Seth had been brave enough to tell such a hard story. He wiped a tear from his cheek, decided he’d had enough of work, and packed up his things to head out.

The air carried a hint of spring warmth, made more appealing by the cloudless sky and gentle breeze. His school, New Horizons for Young Leaders, located on Second Avenue and Twenty-Fourth Street, was a small private school with only one class per grade. Ever since he graduated college and moved to New York, he had taught at the school, loving the work more than he had expected. Although he’d completed his master’s degree five years later at City College New York, he had never used his qualifications to move to the public sector of education. Working in a private school provided a certain level of autonomy and freedom which didn’t exist in the public schools.

Heading down Second Avenue, Jeremy passed many of his favorite stores on the way to the East Village apartment he shared with his boyfriend, Andrew Jamieson.

Jeremy loved the East Village because, in his opinion, it was the most eclectic neighborhood in New York. Every walk of life coexisted without difficulty. He and Andrew walked down the street hand in hand past yuppie couples with kids tugging at their arms or punk skateboarders with pink spiked hair practicing their moves. No one seemed to care how anyone else lived their lives, so long as they didn’t create any problems.

He also loved the East Village because he could afford it. Jeremy had known that choosing to become a teacher, especially a teacher in a private school where the pay was meager, would limit what he could afford, but his current apartment was rent stabilized and he was able to pay and still have money left over for himself and Andrew.

Andrew had become increasingly pushy about moving over the past two years; ever since he got his promotion at work. Along with the promotion and increased 16

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earnings had come increased tension and arguments at home. Each time Andrew brought up moving, Jeremy had to swallow his anger to avoid blowing up at him. It wasn’t that he minded a difference of opinion, he had never backed down from arguments with Andrew, but this particular issue cut too close to Jeremy’s core. The fact Andrew couldn’t see how important it was to him to be self-reliant hurt. It sent the message that he wasn’t listening to what Jeremy was telling him. That had never been the case between them, at least it hadn’t until two years ago.

The smell of potatoes frying in oil carried on the breeze, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He decided to stop at Pomme Frites to buy some fries to curb his appetite until Andrew got home. He got his favorite, potato wedges with a creamy garlic dipping sauce, and continued walking east down Sixth Street towards his apartment located between First Avenue and Avenue A.

Continuing east, he passed several more stores, each bringing back memories of different experiences. He stopped at the The Record Mixer, a store which sold various albums with beats, vocals, instrumentals, and other random sounds which DJs used for mixing. Andrew had loved this store and Jeremy had indulged him on numerous occasions, by perusing the bins for a specific sound he needed. Back in the days when they had begun dating, when everything had been fresh and new, Andrew had mixed music all the time, his apartment cluttered with equipment and records. Jeremy loved every minute of it as they drank wine and Andrew shared stories of the college parties he had been invited to since he was the best mixer around.