---

"Dear God! What's wrong with me? Why did that happen?" David cried out in agony.

"Because you wanted it to happen, David... that, and a lot more!"

"But I don't!! I don't! Can't you see?"

"Forget it!" Thad shouted. David's refusal to see the truth was forcing Thad to anger… so, he turned and went into his bedroom to dress. David sank helplessly into a heap on the divan, completely unaware of the sudden jolt of a spring jabbing him in the butt.

Nothing else was said while Thad dressed. Then he walked from the bedroom to the door without so much as giving David a quick glance. They made no eye contact. Thad opened the door, stepped into the hall, and

slammed the door behind him. David sat on the couch, almost lethargic, almost as if he had just awakened from a nightmare - only he knew he was awake, and what he feared had actually happened… and he found himself sobbing loudly.

Nearly half an hour passed before David stood up, going to the bathroom to wash his face. He stared at the unfamiliar David he saw looking back from the mirror. His mind whirled as he thought of what he had done. The idea of calling Jenny forced itself into his thoughts. Yes, Jenny would be an anchor for him, would give him stability again. Reaching for the phone, he dialed rapidly and heard the phone ring. Please be home! He thought. Then Jenny answered, and her voice showed her concern.

"David, I'm so happy you called. I wanted to call you, but I had no number to reach you. Guess what just happened? You remember, I was sending resumes out, trying to find somewhere I could intern?" It took a moment for David to catch up mentally, before he answered, "Oh, Yeah, honey. Why do you ask?" "Well, I just got a call from a public relations firm in London. They said they'd pay for my flight over, if I wanted to interview about the position. They'd have to be really interested, if they'd do that, right? And it wouldn't be an internship; it'd be a real job with pay and everything!" Her voice sent her excitement broadly over the phone.

David knew he had to respond, but what should he say? "That's great, Jenny, but would this be a short-term thing or what? It sounds like you really want this - do you?" A brief hesitation was followed by her saying, "I know we were talking about us, and a life together; but David, this is such an opportunity! Do you want me to pass this up? I will, you know, if you think I should." Her voice seemed to have taken on a plaintive sound, asking silently for him to release her from any commitment they might have had.

Sitting in Atlanta, David thought about the reason for his calling Jenny: Mark, Thad, his total confusion about his feelings. "Jenny, this may be a blessing, or a curse for you - well, for us. We've talked in the past about going to Europe, so this might just be a sign, a nudge from the gods, telling you what to do. I'll totally support any decision you make, you know that; so, just let me know what you want to do. You and I can always pick 'us' up again when you return."

The relief in her voice as she answered dropped the bottom from his world and, at the same time, gave him immediate room to find himself. "Oh, thank you, David, for feeling that way! I was so afraid you might try to stop me." She began to bounce with excitement verbally, as she went on. "I'll let you know where I'm staying in London. And it probably won't turn out to be what I want - but I just have to see!" "How soon would you be leaving?" he asked. "They'd like to see me on Monday, so I have to finish packing." "OK, Jenny. Let me know how it turns out, OK?" Saying their goodbyes, David felt relief sweep over him. Jenny's blessing might just prove a blessing for him as well.

After hanging up, David wondered what his next move should be. He wanted to meet with Randy, but would Randy ask him to stay overnight? God, what to do? He thought of calling Chris, but Chris would never understand. David couldn't decide whether to take his suitcase with him to meet Randy, or to leave it until later. At least, leaving the suitcase would give him an excuse to leave Randy if, for some unknown reason, he felt he had to.

He went to the phone, took out Randy's card from his back pocket and called. Randy was pleasantly surprised to receive David's call and said he would come by and pick David up to go out for a drink or whatever. David felt like a fool, when he had to tell Randy that he didn't know the address where he was, or even in what part of town he was in. All he knew was that Thad lived on one of the multitudinous Peachtree Streets, Avenues, Ways, Drives, Vistas, or some other thoroughfare named Peachtree… why hadn't the city fathers named the whole city Peachtree, he wondered? It'd make more sense. Laughing at his dilemma, David asked Randy to wait while he went outside to look at the street sign, or find some marker to use to find Thad's apartment. Fortunately, a young man was walking down the street, and David ran to ask him where he was. The young man thought David was either joking, or an escapee from the asylum. 'Who wouldn't know where he is?' Finally, the young man decided that David was in earnest, and gave him the exact address. David repeated it three times, before running back into the apartment to tell Randy. Randy was amused at David's naiveté, but David was having the same reaction concerning a visitor's 'Peachtree dilemma' that everyone had on their first visit here. Fifteen minutes later, Randy drove up in front of Thad's building and honked his horn. David ran out to meet him, got into the car, and they just sat for a moment looking at one another.

"So, you don't know your way around the big city, huh?" Randy joked.

"Whoever named the streets down here was a total idiot ... and he probably hated peaches anyway!" David retorted, smiling.

"David, do you mind if I just sit and look at you?"

"No ... but why?"

"Just looking at your face and into your eyes reminds me how much I loved Mark. You look so much alike."

"Only a couple of years separated our ages, actually. Everyone in River Oaks knew us, but strangers ... visitors ... often thought we were twins, in spite of the actual difference in years."

"I can see why," Randy said, retreating into himself, reliving the moments he'd treasured with his former lover.

"If you'll pardon me for being blunt, while we're talking about appearances, I can see why people call you Atlanta's pretty boy."

"You've heard that, huh?" Randy's look was self-deprecating.

"You must be used to it. It's very obvious how handsome you are."

"Hey! I thought you were straight! You're not coming on to me, are you?"

"No, no ... but a fact is a fact!"

"Well then, I guess I should say thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Now, where would you like to go ... a bar? A restaurant? A coffee house?"

"Please! Any place that isn't on a Peachtree Street."

As Randy laughed, David couldn't help but notice Randy's perfect teeth. Even the back molars showed when he laughed, and all were pure porcelain specimens.

"So, what are you in the mood for? A cocktail? A coke? A bite of food? A joint?"

A joint? David thought. How does a stranger offer someone marijuana so casually? "I'm not much of a drinker ... I mean two drinks, and I'm flat on my butt."

"Two?" Randy grinned. "That was Mark's limit, too." His grin faded. "The night we met, I'm afraid he'd had more than two and ... well, I guess I took advantage of him."

"You and Mark had se… I mean, you made love the first night you met?"

"And every night thereafter, to be honest ..."

David stared at Randy, and suddenly he could believe that Mark would have fallen for Randy quite easily. Damn! His face ... as pretty as any woman's; but without being at all effeminate.

"Listen, David, my place is only a few minutes from here ... a little better neighborhood though. If you like, we can take a run over there, kick off our shoes, and talk in private for as long as you like. I have liquor, diet-cokes in the fridge, a new espresso machine, or if you prefer a cappuccino, a latté, or mocha latté. I also have food in the freezer, if you're hungry."

"Before I say, 'yes', you do know that I'm straight?"

"Good lord! Do you think I'm some kind of sex predator?"

"I didn't mean to imply that, Randy."

"Hey! You'll be totally safe."

"I hope I didn't insult you ... it's just that..."

"Have you been approached by some gays in Atlanta?"

"Slightly."

"Might I ask where?"

David didn't want to mention Thad's name, so he quickly said, "In the men's room at the Very Close Vane."

"You've already been to the 'Vane'? When and why, if I may ask?"

"Last night ... and I'll tell you about it later."

"Jesus, you're lucky you didn't get raped, or have a dick shoved down your throat."

"Nothing happened ... believe me!"

"I'm sure of that!" There was a pause in the conversation. "So? My place, or not?"

"Sure. Your place!"

"Settled!"

Randy's neighborhood and apartment was everything Thad's wasn't -modern and expensive looking with big rooms ... two bedrooms with a bath and a half, a built-in kitchen with a side barbecue grill next to the stove-top range. The microwave was also a combo convection oven. In the center of the kitchen was a large cutting board/dining island made of pecan wood. The living room was ultra-modern ... all glass and chrome with vividly colored couches and chairs. When given a tour of the apartment, David saw that Randy's bedroom was done in hues of deep purple and ebony, making the room seem dark, even with all the lights turned on. The extra bedroom was decorated with shades of green ... from chartreuse to forest green. The three walls surrounding the bedhead were furnished with large growing plants ... real plants, not vinyl or rubber. David was in awe of the place, and told Randy as much.

"How about a nice latté?"

"Can I be honest?"

"I hope you will be ... about everything."

"OK. I've never had a latté."

"Jesus, what kind of place is River Oaks?"

"Very old, very rich, and ultra-ultra-conservative."

"Good God! No wonder Mark loved Atlanta so much. He must have felt he had moved into another century."

"I've had the same feeling for the past forty-eight hours."

"Have you ever dipped in a hot tub?"

"I'm afraid I'm a virgin there as well ..."

"Would you like to give it a whirl? It's the best way I know to relax ... well, maybe second best..."

"Oh, I couldn't ... really ..."

"Nonsense! I'll even give you a bathing suit to wear to protect your modesty. We both seem to be about the same size ... and for God's sake, don't think I'm trying to seduce you. My neighbors ... male and female ... straight and gay … come here often just to use the whirlpool. Nothing has ever happened to any of them. They've only left here feeling more relaxed.

So, whaddya say?"

"OK, why not?"

"Great! Let me get you a suit. You can change in the bathroom. I'll get you a hangar for your clothes. In the meantime, I'll get the espresso and the hot tub both whirring while you're getting dressed ... or undressed!"

"Are you going to join me?"

"Only if you won't feel threatened ...?"

"You must think I'm some kind of hick from Virginia, me acting as I do."

"No, I quite understand. I remember I had almost the same conversation with Mark at the beginning. There were so many things he had to get used to ..."

"I can imagine ..." David retorted wryly, at which Randy smiled ruefully.

Randy got a white bathing suit and handed it to David, who promptly went into the bathroom to change. At the same time, Randy removed his own clothes to don a red and white Speedo, which fit like a second skin, and plainly revealed the huge bulge about which Thad had warned David. Then Randy went into the kitchen to fill the espresso machine, while stopping to hit the 'On' button on the hot tub.

Hesitatingly, David came out of the bathroom, feeling totally exposed and practically nude in front of the gay stranger … until he noticed the suit Randy was wearing, which was equally revealing. For a split second, David wanted to run back into the bathroom, put on his own clothes, and head toward the nearest exit. He suddenly felt that Randy, in that bathing suit, could not be trusted; and he immediately put every fiber of his being on guard.

"Say! That suit looks great on you!" Randy exclaimed, causing David to blush, and feel even more vulnerably nude. "Jesus! You've got quite a build on you! Do you work out?"

"Not all that much! I'm afraid my body doesn't compare to yours ... if you don't mind my saying so!"

"Mind? This old thing?" he joshed. "I don't work out with weights. I simply limit my exercise to nocturnal pleasures."

"I'm afraid I'm totally uninformed about that, as well."

"Straight guys don't get the same workout as gay guys. Most straight guys have sex, and it's over in a matter of minutes; while gays can hold off for hours."

"Well, I suppose that's something I'll never learn about ... at least, in practicality. My only education about gay life is from books at the library."

"I often think that bisexuals give their women more pleasure, because they learn what to do, and how to sustain it … and they learn it from other men. Their women reap the rewards of their men's gay activities."

David was rocked back on his heels at the turn the conversation had taken. "Before I set one foot in that hot tub, you're not suggesting that ..."

"God, no! I told you! Relax, and trust me!"

"I wouldn't want to harm your ... pardon the expression ... your 'pretty little face.'"

"Don't worry - you won't have to ... so get in, prop your feet up, lean your head back, and let the water do its thing."

Although he was still a bit wary, David eased into the swirling water and did as Randy had suggested - and he felt as if he was resting on a cloud of water. Nothing had ever felt so good and so relaxing. He could forget about Chris, Felix, Thad, and even momentarily about Mark, as he closed his eyes to welcome the rushing water on his back, legs, and neck. A hot tub was one thing he wanted to purchase for Jenny and himself when they moved into their own place. Thinking of Jenny and their seeming solution, allowed David to feel a twinge of pain in his neck to ease a little. So much had happened in such a little time, and the week wasn't half over yet! What more could happen?

"Here's your latté, Mr. Stanley ..." Randy said, interrupting David's thoughts. "Set the cup into one of those slots beside you!"

David took the drink, sipped it, and found it tasted wonderful. He realized he had failed to ask if there was alcohol in a latté. Perhaps, Randy was playing a trick on him, and was trying to get him drunk with an ulterior motive in mind.

"This is fantastic! What's in it?"

"A little special blend of coffee, cream, and a few spices thrown in for good measure."

"No liquor?"

"No, David, no liquor! You simply don't want to trust me, do you? That must've been some experience you had in the 'Vane's' men's room ... or was it somewhere else. You know I never asked you whose apartment you were visiting when I picked you up."

"It was a friend of Father Chris'...a detective..."

"You mean Thad? Alex's lover?"

"You know Thad?"

"Know him? I've had him!"

"What do you mean - sexually?"

"Dear 'straight boy,' Thad's is one body that I will never forget. That light spread of black velvet on his chest ... oh wow! I can get excited just thinking about it."

"I ... I've never seen Thad's chest," David lied.

"Oh, man! I won't ask how much time you spent with Thad, but if you ever sleep with him, you'll remember it the rest of your life."

"I ... I did sleep with him ... last night ..." David said quietly.

"You slept with Thad ... all night?"

"Yes."

"And you're walking without a limp today?"

"What do you…? Believe me, Randy, nothing happened between us ... Thad and me."

"Was Thad stoned or passed out?"

"No, but before I spent the night, I made it clear to Thad that I was nothing like Mark; I've never been gay, nor have I ever had a homosexual experience of any kind in my life ... and he accepted that fact, and ... and nothing happened."

"Jesus! Thad's either getting old, or he's found God."

"He's around twenty-nine or thirty, wouldn't you guess?"

"Yes, but ... oh wow! I just find it difficult to believe he didn't try to jump you in your sleep."

"Well, he didn't! I went to bed with him 'straight,' and I woke up 'straight'!"

"I think I'll have to circle yesterday's date on my calendar. History was made, and you were a part of it, even if you didn't know it!"

"I'm sure you know Father Chris at St. Thaddeus Catholic Church ...?"

"Yes, but not intimately ... although, I've often thought if I gave him a wink, he would transgress on his celibacy. Frankly, I've never understood how a man with so much charisma, such good looks, education, and

charm, could go through life without a partner ... male or female. If Father Chris were a lawyer or doctor, he'd make a real catch for somebody."

"This is going to sound idiotic ... and again, very naive on my part; but Chris is the first person I've ever openly discussed homosexuality with."

"Jesus, you sound like a West Virginia rube!"

"Y'know, that's twice someone has said that to me today." He chuckled.

"Then if I were you, I'd change my shoe size and style..."

"What's that supposed to mean? Is that some gay lingo?"

"No, I was referring to the expression ... if the shoe fits ... making a play on words of being told twice that you were a rube."

"Well, I'm not a rube, and I'm certainly not a West Virginia hick. In fact, I've known some really great people from West Virginia. In my immediate circle of straight friends at the university, I'm considered quite knowledgeable on most subjects. I don't know very much about Muslims. But I seem to know more about Muslims than about gays; but as I said, I'm trying to learn. Anyway, Chris told me that gays in general were not predators, nor would they force themselves on straight people - yet, in the past two days, I've been in a couple of situations with gays, where I felt damned vulnerable … as if I were being hit on. That sure is contrary to what Chris said..."

"If you've felt that way, David, I can give you a number of reasons why. First, you seemed to be obsessed with using the word 'straight.' Usually, straight men don't go around advertising their sexuality, unless they might be trying to convince themselves otherwise. If gays are conversing with heteros, not once have I heard a gay guy say, 'By the way, I'm gay;' do you realize that you've referred to yourself as being straight almost a dozen times already during our conversation?"

"No, I ... I wasn't aware of that..."

"Let me go on ... Point two! You are a very good-looking, extremely attractive guy. I used to think Mark was beautiful ... I told him so often enough. And David, my boy, you are like a clone of Mark ... same looks, same smile, same speech... I knew Mark was gay the first time I laid eyes on him, and if you didn't advertise your being straight every-hour-on-the-hour like a TV station identification, I would think you were gay as well."

"Me? I look gay…?"

"You're not effeminate in any way, if that's what you're worried about, but you have a look that makes gays ... and probably heteros, too ... turn their heads to take a second look."

"I don't think I've ever considered how I look to other people ... especially other men."

"For some reason, you seem to sell yourself short. I'm not being conceited when I say I know I have good looks. Hell, I look at my face, my hair, my body, and my genitals several times a day, so I know...' Hey! You look great, kid!' Fact is fact. If I were bald or had bad acne scars, I would be constantly aware of my looks, so why should it be different if your face, skin, and hair look perfect when you see them in a mirror?"

David gave serious thought to Randy's verbal evaluation and dissertation, and let most of it sink in. "Can I try to disprove your theory?"

"Sure ... I'm game."

"What I'm thinking is rather awkward putting into words, so if I don't say it just right, don't rush to judgment ... OK?"

"David, among all the men I've known, I can vouch that Georgians are certainly not smarter than Virginians. We're all from the dumb South. We speak slower, and non-Southerners assume we think slower ... and we probably do. Point of proof? Listen to a speech by President Kennedy and compare it with one by Texas President George Bush. Hell, why do you think Gore lost the election? He was trying to speak so goddamned proper and hide his accent that everyone thought he was a phony. Sorry, I keep going off on a tangent every time you try to make a point."

"Randy, you said that Mark and I look so much alike..."

"And you do..."

"Then why didn't you feel about me the same way you felt about him when we met in the drugstore?"

"Are you asking if I found you attractive...?"

"I just wonder, why with Mark, it was 'love at first sight,' and I was just someone who casually offered you my handkerchief ..."

"First of all, your being straight had a lot to do with it. You didn't find me attractive the way you'd look at a woman and find her attractive. And physically, you didn't see me the way I saw you. I looked at you and was immediately drawn to you, but you just saw another person."

"Now, who's being modest? I, or any other man, would find you handsome as hell. Sure, I did. So what was different?"

"OK, let's play a little game ... if you're willing."

"What kind of game?"

"We'll call it ... 'Make Your Point'!"

"Go for it!"

"You and I are sitting more than half naked, less than four feet apart in a private place, a place where no one can see or hear us. The minute you walked out of the bathroom in that white bathing suit, my eyes were glued to your body, but mainly what you were concealing under the suit. Now, perhaps I went too far in my choosing a suit. Mine was tighter, and I purposely chose it to make you look at my crotch. I watched to see if you'd lower your eyes ... and you know what? Whether it was accidental or intentional - you looked, baby, you saw right through my red and white Speedo. What kind of signal do you suppose I got from your stare?"

"You honestly believe I wanted to see all of you?"

"Sorry, but yes, I do."

"Randy, you're wrong ... believe me ... you're way wrong!"

"Want proof?"

"What do you mean?"

Randy suddenly stood up in the hot tub and lowered his suit, releasing the package that Thad had so vividly described.

"Now, try not to look!"

To David, that was like saying 'don't think of an elephant'. He had to look! Who wouldn't? My God! Never in his life, had David seen such a large male organ ... certainly never anyone in the dorm showers.

"Randy, please don't ... please pull up your bathing suit."

"Does my naked cock bother you?"

"It doesn't bother me, but seeing something unusual for the first time ... I mean if you opened your bedroom door and brought out a white duck and threw him into the water, do you think I wouldn't look at the duck? I'm human! It's human nature to notice anything that's out of the ordinary."

"How secure do you feel about your manhood?"

"What do you mean?"

"Could you stand up and take off your suit without showing an erection?"

"Are you asking does your nakedness excite or arouse me? The answer is 'no'!"

"But you can't do it, can you? You're actually afraid that you couldn't remain flaccid while looking at another penis? I mean, that would take a real man to pass that test."

"I could ... if I wanted to; but this is ridiculous!"

"Then prove it, straight man! Prove it ... prove to me and, more importantly, to yourself, how straight you are!!!"

"I ... I won't ... I don't have to!"

"Stand up!"

"What?"

"I said, stand up!"

Slowly, David held onto the side of the large tub and stood. Quick as a flash, Randy dropped to his knees and grabbed David's white suit, pulling it down to his ankles. David's penis sprang to 'attention,' as if a close-order drill had been ordered by a general. David's hands were not large enough to hide his erection ... all he could do was place one hand above the other, and grip his organ like a golf club - or baseball bat. "Damn you, Randy!!"

"So? Did I make my point?" Randy exclaimed.

"You really are a son-of-a-bitch! How could Mark ever have loved you?"

"Let me help you figure that one out," Randy said, as he reached for David's erection and plunged his mouth down on it, locking his hands around David's hips, so he couldn't back away.

"Oh, God! Please stop, Randy! I don't want this! I'm not like you," David cried, as he grabbed two handfuls of Randy's dark hair and tried to pull Randy's head back; but Randy was relentless. He continued to move his head forward and backward as deep as he could, pulling David's cock into the back of his throat. David was angry, so much so that his eyes were welling with tears ... yet, he realized that this was Mark's lover - and now, he himself was experiencing what Mark had craved. David was experiencing a sensation he'd never felt before, from something he'd always thought of as forbidden and disgusting. And yet, the power of the pleasure was soon outweighing the vulgarity and grossness. This was a part of the education no book in the university library had ever described.

In the meantime, Randy had completely transformed his own reality and time as David's body made Randy recall all the wonderful nights he had spent with Mark. With Randy's eyes closed, David had become his brother, and no force in this world was strong enough to make him stop or to deprive him of what he missed most in life.

"Oh, my God!" David screamed. !"Stop! Please stop! I don't want this, but I can't hold back any longer!"

David's words were a familiar tune that he'd heard Mark cry out hundreds of times, and he knew it was only a matter of seconds before he would be tasting his true love's nectar once again. David's explosion made his knees weak, and he sank back down to sit on one of the hot tub seats. Finally, when he had his fill, Randy removed his mouth from David's crotch and looked straight at David's hurtful expression, and more deeply into David's tear-filled eyes.

David was humiliated, exhausted, and out of breath. He felt as if his spirit had been broken ... the same as a mustang when a broncobuster has tamed the beast. Slowly, David raised both hands level with Randy's head, and placed them behind Randy's neck. All David had to do was complete the circle around Randy's neck with his thumbs, and he could easily choke Randy to death. Randy was more than apprehensive about what might happen next, but he felt, If he wants to kill me...go ahead...maybe I deserve it, but having Mark one more time was worth the rest of this life.

David was still breathing hard as he drew his face close to Randy's, feeling more hatred than he'd ever known, and in that instant, he wanted to strangle Randy. It would be quick and easy, and for some reason, Randy was making no attempt to stop him. Does Randy want me to kill him? David kept drawing his face nearer to Randy's, until the tips of their noses were touching. Each could feel and taste the other's breath when he inhaled. David carefully placed his thumbs over Randy's Adam's apple and made contact with the death spot; and Randy still didn't resist. The two remained in that position for several seconds - murder … death - barely seconds away.

Then with a sudden jolt from nowhere, David forced his lips onto Randy's, and plunged his tongue inside Randy's mouth. Randy was totally surprised, and at the same time now feared for his life. Was this the kiss of death? Would this be the last sensation Randy would know in this life?

Randy waited to feel David's thumbs sinking into his throat, but David released his throat hold, lowered his hands to Randy's muscled clavicles, and drew Randy's body to him until their chests were sealed together. Cautiously, Randy raised his arms to go around David to complete the circle, then they were embracing, kissing each other passionately. Neither of them wanted to stop, and neither knew what to say...