An Academic Love Affair
Philip Morgan came home from work one day to find his son, Michael, very agitated. He knew immediately that the boy was disturbed about something.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
Mike thrust a piece of paper at him. "It's a note from my English teacher," he whined.
Mike's IQ was very high, and he was accelerated a year in school. At 14, he easily breezed through his high school freshman year and half his sophomore year. Both father and son were a little apprehensive. This was the first time any teacher had ever felt it necessary to write to Phil about Mike. Phil unfolded the note quickly, and read it.
"What in the world did you do?" Phil asked.
"Nothing," the frightened boy answered. "What's it say?"
Phil handed the paper to Mike. The note was short and sweet, and the boy was even more perplexed. He read the note out loud to make sure he had read it right the first time.
Dear Mr. Morgan:
Please call me as soon as possible to set up an appointment. I need to discuss Michael's performance with you. My mobile number is 212-555-6677.
Carl Thompson
Phil immediately called Carl's number. When the English teacher answered the phone, Phil's face expressed surprise. Carl's voice could be described as young and sexy. He expected to hear a gruff middle-aged man.
Phil identified himself. After a few opening amenities, he asked, "What's wrong?"
"It's complicated. I'd rather discuss it in person, and without Michael being present."
They agreed to meet the next day after Carl's last class. Carl gave Phil his office number at the high school.
"I'll leave work early," Phil said.
Phil Morgan decided to celebrate his coming of age at a gay bar he had heard about. It was called The Male Room, and it was located in Greenwich Village. Phil had never been to The Village or to the bar, and he had to screw up his courage to go into the establishment.
Phil had no idea what a hunk he was. He stood six feet, two inches tall. His body was buff and muscled from hours in the gym. His hair was a light brown, but his eyes were a deep brown. His nose was the perfect size for his face. He had a square chin with a slight cleft. When he entered the bar, he caught the attention of more than one patron.
It took him a good ten minutes to reach the bartender's order station. He asked for a scotch and soda, and to his dismay, he got carded. As he reached into his pocket for money, a voice behind him asked, "Can I buy you that drink, handsome."
It may have been Phil's first adventure in a gay bar, but he knew he was being hit on. It both frightened and thrilled him. He turned around to see the man who was talking, and he literally lost his heart. The man was even better looking than he, and much hunkier. "Sure you can," Phil said.
"My name's Ron," the stranger said as he extended his hand.
Phil returned the handshake, and said, "I'm Phil."
When they both had a drink in their hands, they found a spot where there was enough room for the two of them to stand together. The bar was so crowded, and the noise level was so high, they could hardly hear each other talk. Ron motioned to the front door with his head, and they went outside. The Greenwich Village Street was teeming with people, but at least they could talk.
Boy, did they have a lot in common; they were both college seniors. Ron was going to CCNY and Phil attended NYU. They were both majoring in finance. Phil lived in The Bronx and Ron lived in Queens so they both still lived at home and hated that.
They talked on and on into the night, and by midnight they knew more about each other than their best friends did. Before the clock struck the witching hour, they both had a new best friend. In fact they had a BFF.
Instinctively, they knew that they would make love to each other. The big question was where and when. They both lived at home, which made a liaison very difficult.
"I hoped to go home with someone tonight so I told my folks that I was staying with friends in Manhattan," Phil blurted out. "How about we get a room at The Y?"
"I can do you one better. I'm the only one of my siblings still living at home. My mother decided that since I was twenty-one I was finally old enough to be left home alone. What a concept! Anyway, my folks went to visit my paternal grandparents in The Czech Republic. They won't be home for another week. We have a whole private apartment to ourselves just as if we were married."
They spent the rest of the night, and all the next day, making love. There was no reticence between them, and they did whatever came to mind. Even though it was their first time together they performed on such a far-out level, that they even participated in golden showers and rimming. They fucked each other under their armpits and between their legs. They enjoyed every moment of their wild, abandoned lovemaking.
Finally, Phil announced that he had to get on home so he could shower in the morning and put on fresh clothes for school. Ron pointed out that they were about the same size. He offered to give Phil fresh clothes, but he declined.
"If I stay, it'll be too hard to explain what's going on to my parents."
"Don't they know that you're gay?" Ron asked.
"No, but now I have a reason to tell them."
"Does that mean you want a commitment?" Ron wondered. "We only just met."
"You're wrong. We met many lifetimes ago. We're soul mates, and I swear, if you're not ready to commit, I'll hound you until you are."
Ron started to cry. He grabbed Phil, and they began a kissing marathon until they ached.
After graduation, when they were both employed and making a living, they moved in together. They leased a miniscule, one-bedroom apartment. It was like a palace to them. They made love whenever the mood struck them, and it struck them often.
When they were together for three years, New York still hadn't recognized same-sex marriages, so they went up to Toronto and legally cemented their union. It was while they were still touring eastern Canada on their honeymoon that they decided to become parents. When they got home, they placed an ad in the New York Times for a surrogate mother to bear their child. They both had good jobs and lived very frugally. They were still in their original one-bedroom apartment, and their expenses were minimal, so they had the funds to offer a hefty fee.
They only got two replies and arranged interviews with both women. They rejected the first one immediately. She was heavily made up and they suspected that she might be a hooker. The second was a beautiful young medical student. She had no family and was paying her own way through med school. She needed every cent she could get. Happily, she did not argue the price.
Madeline was inseminated with sperm from both men, and the men agreed never to do a DNA test to determine which of them was the father. As far as they were concerned they both were.
During the course of the pregnancy, Madeline, Phil and Ron became good friends. The men graciously offered Madeline the privilege of visiting the baby whenever she could. She declined and insisted that their legal agreement specifically state that she had no claim to the baby, and she was absolved of all parental rights. After Michael was born, she disappeared out of their lives.
They named the infant Michael Morgan. Ron had a long, nearly unpronounceable Slavic name.
They moved out of their small apartment and bought a spacious two-bedroom condominium in the upscale Chelsea section of Manhattan. They hired a wonderful nanny, who was more than a nanny. Leticia prepared their evening meals and babysat when they needed to get out once in a while. To use a trite expression, the world was their oyster. They had it all. A same-sex couple or not, they had realized The American Dream.
When Michael was a couple of months shy of his second birthday, Ron began to complain about being fatigued all the time. He could hardly ever get an erection anymore. That was followed by aches and pains all over his body. He didn't say anything to Phil, and when Phil asked him if he was all right, he said that he was.
Eventually, the pain became unbearable, and Ron could not hide it from Phil any longer. Phil wanted to take Ron to the doctor, but he insisted on waiting until his regular appointment two weeks down the road. One night, the pain was so bad that he began to scream. Phil called 911, and Ron was taken to a hospital. After running a bunch of tests, Ron was diagnosed with acute leukemia. He died two days later.
Phil was devastated. If it were not for Michael, he would have killed himself.
During Michael's early years, when he was too young to stay home alone, Phil never went out. Leticia often volunteered to baby-sit so that he could get out once in a while, but he politely refused.
Michael was exceptionally bright. By the time he was eleven, he knew that his dad was homosexual. He himself was straight, but the dear boy kept urging Phil to get out and socialize, and hopefully meet someone.
Phil told his son that nobody could take Ron's place, and he'd rather stay home with him. Finally, when Mike just passed his fourteenth birthday, and could well be trusted to be alone at home, Phil decided to get out there, as Mike and Leticia always put it. He wasn't starved for love, but he was starved for sex, and he decided that a one night stand wouldn't hurt him. He was tired of jerking off every night, and he worried that Mike might hear him doing it.
He thought about going to the same bar where he had met Ron, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. It was fortunate that he didn't go there. The crowd was way too young for him. He went instead to a place that catered to a more mature crowd, and he was glad he did.
When he entered the bar, there was no blaring music. A piano player was softly playing love songs, mostly from Broadway musicals. The place was dimly lit, but everything was visible. The first thing Phil zeroed in on was an empty stool at the bar, and he headed for it. The second thing he saw was the man seated in the seat next to the empty one. He was in his thirties, absolutely gorgeous, and Phil began to feel a stirring in his groin.
He decided that if all he wanted was a one-night stand, he had no time to waste. He sat down, faced the Adonis, stuck out his hand, and borrowed Ron's opening line. "Hi. I'm Phil. Can I buy you a drink?"
The man looked uncomfortable. He tried not to look Phil in the eye. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not into the bar scene. I don't know why I came here." He took one final swig of his drink and ran out of the bar.
Phil was flabbergasted, but not for long. He did score that night with a married, closeted man. Phil could not go home with him, so he decided to invite the man back to his place. Mike was always urging him to "get out there" so he was sure it wouldn't be traumatic for his son if he came home with a trick. Nevertheless, he decided to call Mike and give him a head's up.
"I'm bringing someone home tonight. I'll try to limit all our activity to my bedroom. He told me that he can't stay too long. I hope it's all right with you."
"Dad," Mike said, "I couldn't be happier for you. Go for it, Tiger."
After that night, Phil did not hesitate to bring home a contact whenever he could. It was very occasional, certainly not often. He had intended on going out the evening Mike presented him with the note from his English teacher, but now his nerves were too wired, and he decided to stay home.
When Phil entered Carl's office, his first reaction was to admire Carl's good looks. He decided that Carl was straight, so admiring his assets would do him no good. With that thought stored away, he became convinced that he had met Carl before, and not too long ago. He racked his brain, but nothing registered.
They introduced themselves. Carl shook Phil's hand without standing. He couldn't stand. His hard-on threatened to rip through his trousers. He beckoned to the chair facing his desk, inviting Phil to sit.
"Let's get right to the point," Phil said. "What horrible crime did Mike commit?"
Carl laughed. "He didn't do anything wrong at all."
"Then why am I here, Mr. Thompson?"
"Please, Mr. Morgan, call me Carl. You're here because your son is a genius, and he needs more than this school can give him?"
"First of all, please call me Phil, and second of all, please explain yourself."
"Sure thing, Phil. Michael has submitted many essays and short stories to me. They are flawless. I have nothing to correct. He recently submitted a story, and as I read it, I thought he had plagiarized it."
"He would never do that," Phil hissed. He was indignant.
"Of course not."
"Why did you think it was plagiarized?" Phil asked.
"The story started out very innocently, almost like a fluffy love story, and I thought that this was not Michael's style. But little by little, almost imperceptibly, a feeling of uneasiness came upon me. Michael built the story slowly, a step at a time. It turned out to be a horror story, and by the end, I was actually shaking with fear. It was so good that I became convinced that he had lifted a story Stephen King had written. When I shook off the fear, I knew he would never cheat. I was more than impressed. I'm going to see if I can get the story published somewhere."
"I'm so happy you told me," Phil said, "but why was it necessary to have a conference?"
"Michael needs to be enrolled in a school for gifted children. His potential needs to be explored and nourished. If you agree with me, I'll get together a list of some nearby schools, and I'll get them to you. I'd like to see Michael enrolled in one of those schools for the next academic year."
As Carl spoke, a lightning bolt struck Phil. Carl was the hunk in the bar, the guy who ran out on him without even telling him his name. Phil wondered if Carl recognized him. He tried to think back and was certain that he had only told Carl his first name. He decided not to mention their brief meeting to Carl. If he preferred living in the closet, Phil believed that he had no right to challenge that decision.
Be that as it may, Phil now knew that Carl was gay and that he lived in fear of acting on his yearnings. He determined to get to know Carl better and to introduce him to gay love. He wondered why he thought of it as "love," when he meant "sex."
He knew that he had to be bold and proactive with Carl. "Carl," he said, "you've been more than kind, and even more than a diligent teacher. Your concern for Mike is admirable. I didn't know how long our conference would last so I told Mike to have dinner and not wait for me. I'm not expected at home. Is there anyone waiting for you?"
Carl shook his head. He had a suspicion what was going to happen next, and his heart started to palpitate.
"In that case," Phil said, "I insist that you allow me to take you to dinner so that I can thank you properly."
"I accept. Where will you take me?"
"You'll see." Phil intended to take Carl to the bar where they originally met. They had a first class restaurant there as well as a bar.
"It's a little early," Phil said, but let's go now. We'll have a couple of drinks before dinner, and we can get to know each other."
Now Carl could barely breathe.
Phil hailed a cab and had him take them to the bar and grill. When Carl saw the building, he smiled and said, "I know this place. You came on to me here a couple of weeks ago."
Fuck! Carl did recognize him, and he never let on.
"So why did you run away from me?"
"I was scared. I've never made love with a man. I wouldn't be afraid now that I know you." There it was, "love" again, not "sex."
Phil had lots to say, but the waiter came to take them to their table. Once they were seated and their meals were ordered, Phil spoke up.
"Listen, Carl," Phil began. "My husband died twelve years ago, and I had no interest in sex. Frankly, I think I lost my libido. Finally, I came to this bar, and I saw you, and I got the most serious hots for you. I actually thought in terms of more than a one-time shot, but you ran away. I must admit to having had a few one-nighters since I first saw you. When I saw you this afternoon, I didn't recognize you at first, but when I did, I wanted to make love to you even more."
Phil was shocked at himself. He had said "love" again, not "sex."
"After I ran away from you," Carl said, "I wanted to kick myself in the ass. You are one hot hunk, and I thought I was crazy to throw away such a great opportunity. I am so sorry."
"You realize that fate intended for us to meet. Even though you botched your first opportunity, fate has given us a second chance."
"Please Phil, I have roommates. They're all straight. After dinner, take me home with you. Teach me how to make love to a man. Make all my dreams come true."
"Why are you finally giving in to your feelings?" Phil asked.
"Because I fell in love with you at the bar that first time. Now I am so heavily in love with you, I can hardly breathe."
"If that's the case, you'd better come home with me. I don't want you to burst your lungs. I just need to call Mike."
"Will he be very upset?"
"Hardly. For the past two years, he has been begging me to find a companion. He doesn't want me to be alone when he flies out of the nest. When I tell him I'm bringing home his favorite teacher, he'll be delighted. The more important question is, will it be a problem for you to fuck your favorite student's father."
"Take me home and give me a test."
Phil called Michael, who screamed with joy when he heard the news. Before the semester ended, Carl was living with Phil and Mike. A lonely man found love again, and dreams came true for an even lonelier one.