This is a true story, taking place in the early 1990's. After originally meeting over the phone, Andrew and I decided to meet in person over Memorial Day weekend in 1990. Overcoming insurmountable odds, our long distance relationship was no more, as Andrew found work at the company where I worked at the start of 1991. Although our first year together as a closeted gay couple was one of extremes, we emerged most unscathed, but as 1992 came to a close and 1993 was about to begin, I had committed the ultimate sin and cheated on Andrew.
Please feel free to contact me, Austin T. Charles at austintc@aol.com I appreciate all feedback on my story!
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Austin and Andrew, Chapter 16
The drive home from Madison on that snowy Sunday afternoon in 1993 was a little hectic but knowing that my truck had four wheel drive made me not too worried about arriving safely at the apartment.
I had plenty of time to think about the letter I had just written and deposited in the mailbox near the truck stop just off the interstate. There was a feeling of certainty in my gut knowing that the correct decision had been made. Of course there was hope that Josh would still want to remain friends with me and judging from what he'd told me about his previous relationships, remaining friends and keeping in touch would certainly be possible.
But now my focus was on how to mend my seemingly broken relationship with Andrew. In essence he had every reason to treat me the same way and hurt me the same way as my relationship with Josh had done to him. If he did, clearly I deserved it. Fortunately for me, his love for me and belief in us as a couple would keep him from making the same mistakes.
We picked up the pieces of our fractured relationship, put it back together, and moved on. The make-up sex was phenomenal. It felt good to have him back in our bed, holding him tightly as we made the love that our relationship was based on: sensual kissing, caressing each other, sucking each other, lying on top of him while our wet, hard cocks exploded on his belly as we kissed deep passionate kisses until our orgasms subsided.
Our lives once again found normalcy. We resumed doing the fun things on the weekends that we used to do like taking day trips to Chicago and even staying overnight in a hotel in downtown Chicago so we could spend more time at the bars in Boystown. Not surprisingly, we took quite a bit of time before we returned to Madison together. Neither of us had any desire to return to the New Bar for understandable reasons. Josh did call me after he received the letter, and did state that there were no hard feelings, and that we could remain friends. He also commented as a side note that he knew all along that moving to Madison was something that I'd never do. He was right.
Soon spring was upon us. Andrew and I began making plans for another trip to Seattle. This time though, we planned on driving instead of flying. Our plans were to leave the third week of June. We definitely had something to look forward to.
Due to the lagging economy and issues in the aerospace industry, there was an impending layoff that was going to happen around the time we had planned our trip to Seattle. As an effort to avoid laying off people, the company offered a one-time deal to move interested workers from Rockford to Fort Collins, Colorado. Right away this seemed like a sure-fire way to escape Rockford on the company's dime and start a new life with the same company in an awesome state where the mountains would only be a short drive west. Since the company was aware of my interest, they flew me to Colorado to check out the plant and the city. Since one my close friends had already taken advantage of the offer, she was more than willing to show me around the area once the company was done trying to woo me to move there.
The area was nice. Very nice in fact. My first reaction was to tell them ABSOLUTELY YES! But upon further review, the offer wasn't quite so sweet as it seemed. To make matters worse, no matter how much I tried to sell the deal to Andrew, he refused, saying that there would be a zero chance of him transferring with the company. Once again it also came down to him finding the excuse not to tell his parents about us, as he was certain that the move would lead to them needing the real reason why he followed me to Colorado.
The company allowed me to make up my mind while we were on our trip to Seattle. Weighing out the pros and cons on the trip, no conclusion was made. Basically we focused on having a great time in Seattle and once again in the Olympic Mountains. Since we had the truck, we were able to bring more camping gear. Instead of doing longer backpacking trips, we opted to camp in KOA campgrounds. Since I drove the truck, I was able to bring a larger tent to use. It was also nice to have nightly showers. We did however backpack on the pacific shoreline, finding a remote camping place that was away from the high tide, yet close enough to discover the marine life in the tide pools once the tide had gone out. Although the shoreline is nothing like the white sandy beaches of Cancun or Florida's western coast, the sea stacks, huge volcanic boulders, and black sand make the beaches of the Olympic Peninsula shoreline so unique that it will always hold a place deep in my heart for the times spent roaming and discovering its beauty.
Of course we spent ample time in Seattle. This time we sampled several gay bars and drooled over the cute boys in each. Yet as much as our eyes wandered, we still stayed committed to us and what we had. We also camped at Mt. Rainier, saw where our favorite show at that time -- Northern Exposure -- was filmed in Roslyn, Washington. Located about an hour outside of Seattle, it was neat to walk on the streets of the town where the outdoor scenes were filmed. For those of us old enough to remember the show, there still sits a black coffee cup with the show's logo in gold on my bookcase, a reminder of that day and a reminder of the show. It seems way too crazy to think that I purchased that cup twenty eight years ago this June. Doesn't seem possible.
Our vacation time was quickly winding down, so we began the long drive back to Illinois. Instead of going the same we came, we opted to drive south and follow the Columbia River Gorge east until we reached Idaho. We stayed in the tent one final night along the Gorge, and the following morning I woke up with a terrible upper respiratory infection. I had a fever and felt like crap. As we headed east into Idaho, my conditioned worsened and it was difficult for me to drive let alone ride in the cab of the truck. Since the truck had a camper shell on the back, we had brought a foam twin sized mattress from home, and I actually spent the rest of that day in the back of the truck sleeping while Andrew drove. That night we got a hotel in Salt Lake City, Utah. My fever reached 104 degrees and somewhat surprisingly, Andrew left me in the hotel and went out. That night all I could possibly do was attempt to sleep, enduring fever induced hallucinations, tossing, and turning wondering when Andrew would return to the room. Whatever he did that night, he never did really tell me. It would not have mattered since my condition was not good. If there was ever a time that I felt death knocking on the door, it was that night.
Thankfully, the next morning the fever calmed down, or at least enough to ride in the cab of the truck. We had decided to drive to Fort Collins in a last ditch effort to sell Andrew on a move to Colorado. We hooked up with my friend and she let us spend the night at her apartment. The following morning we left for home, and made it home the following day, after spending our last night on the road at a hotel in Lincoln, Nebraska.
We returned home and although I was scheduled to go back to work that Monday, the fever that started in Oregon several days earlier still persisted. The doctor at work gave me antibiotics and took me out of work for the remainder of that week. Over that week, we talked about Colorado. I wanted to go and was ready to tell human resources that I was ready. Sadly though, I did not. As hard as I tried to sell him on the notion that moving to Colorado would be the perfect steppingstone to Seattle, I could not convince Andrew to go. Once again, the chance to leave Illinois went by the wayside as I chose to stay here with Andrew.
As I looked back a year or so later at that decision not move to Colorado, it turned out to be a good decision after all. Colorado had a much higher cost of living and the company was not going to raise my wages to reflect this, so I would have been in worse shape financially and would have found it harder to survive. Still, it would have been a great chance to escape Illinois.
In the meantime, we started looking at houses in Rockford. One Sunday morning after going out for breakfast, we stopped at an open house. The realtor told us about a house that was just listed. It was an older two bedroom all brick house with hardwood floors. We jumped on it, and a month or so later we moved into the new house that was incidentally in Andrew's name, as my financial woes from dealing with my addiction to credit cards kept me in bad enough shape credit-wise.
It felt great to be back living in a house. For once, we were both happy being together in a house, not an apartment. We worked on the house together, cleaning up the yard, painting the interior and such. It was further from work for me to drive, but still it wasn't a bad drive. I recall getting home from work one day feeling quite horny waiting for Andrew to get home from work. As soon as he walked through the door in the kitchen we embraced, kissing as usual. I dropped to my knees, unzipped his dress slacks, found his limp cock in his briefs, and immediately took it all in my mouth, sucking it like there was no tomorrow. Soon he was rock hard, and I sucked his cock like my life depended on it. I sensed he was getting close and just as he was ready to shoot his load, I grabbed his ass and pulled his cock deep into my throat, so his load shot directly down my throat into my stomach. It felt great to give him such pleasure, just as if I was his little bitch worshipping his cock as soon as he walked in the door.
Later that weekend we woke up in our usual morning wood/horny manner. After we sucked each other for a short time, I asked Andrew to fuck me. This time, he was up for the occasion. First he rimmed my hole, which felt amazing. With my hole now wet from his saliva, I sucked his cock until he was rock hard and ready to enter me. This time, I rolled onto my back with my ass in the air, my own cock pointed at my face. Andrew rode me good for what seemed like twenty minutes and I stayed hard the entire time while his cock plunged in and out of my eager hole. He was driving me crazy, and after I laid back down on the bed with my ankles now near my ears, Andrew made his final thrusts before exploding in my ass. I loved feeling his hot cum shooting out of his cock into my intestines and now I was still hard and ready for relief. As soon as he pulled out of my hole, his cock still dripping cum, he eagerly took my hard, dripping cock into his mouth. In hardly any time at all I felt the orgasm brewing from deep within, and in mere seconds later I shot one of my biggest loads down his throat. As my orgasm continued, I felt zinging sensations that emulated from my prostate directly through my back, causing me to shiver in sheer delight. It was one of the most amazing orgasms I've ever had, making me think about the lyrics from Foreigner: "it feels like the very first time." How true it was!
Our lives continued to settle into life in the small two bedroom house on Brown Street. I began to gain ground on my credit situation which reflected positively on my credit score. Since the truck now had over one hundred thousand miles on it, I decided to sell it and find something less expensive to drive. My search landed an older Nissan pick-up with low miles and no frills. It was hard not having the nice truck, and it was a humbling experience going to the little Nissan, but it taught me about making payments on time and working towards a better financial situation.
The summer faded away and soon fall returned. As the leaves began to change, a sense of restlessness cascaded upon me. One of my coworkers began to suspect that there was something going on between Andrew and me that went beyond us being roommates. She'd made the comment to me one day about a mutual friend from high school that came out as gay. I was shocked, because this person and I were decent friends due to a class we had together, and I never would have guessed that he was gay. But my coworker continued to tell me about him, as if to say, "it's okay to be gay". Coming out at work was the last thing on my mind, period. So when she asked if I wanted to meet a lady friend of hers like on a double date, I pretty much felt like I had to accept. Since I had dated and slept with women in the past before meeting Andrew, it would have not been a big deal. Ironically though, on this "date" where I met her friend, neither of us felt anything, and there was no reason to ask for her number as she showed no interest in me whatsoever.
About a month or so later, I did get set up on a date with the secretary from one of our freight carriers. Turned out she was the daughter of a pastor, and they were ultra-religious. While I did enjoy her company, I could not handle the idea of being around her father or holding hands with her brother at the dinner while he kept praying out loud during grace something like "Oh thank you Jesus". Andrew was patient, although he asked me why I was doing such a thing, repeatedly telling me that I was gay and that dating women was something I should not be doing. Keep that thought...
Christmas 1993 came in calmly for us. Andrew went home to Minnesota, and I actually stayed in town and did not tempt fate by going to Madison to the New Bar. Interestingly, I received a Christmas card from an ex-girlfriend whom I dated off and on prior to working at the factory. We were coworkers at the department store where I worked, and I had lost touch with her. It was great to hear from her, and I wrote her back, but we did not see each other that Christmas, nor did we keep in contact after that initial Christmas card. Due to the way Andrew felt about me talking to or going on dates with the girls I dated that year, I did not tell him about getting in touch with my ex-girlfriend.
New Year's Eve arrived and for once, we ushered 1994 in a calm manner. We did not go out to any bars, nor did we go to Madison as we'd done in the past. Instead, we opted to stay home and ponder what the year would have in store for us. Andrew's friend Emma came to spend the holiday with us, and my friend from Colorado also came to visit. It was nice to see her since we had developed a great friendship in the years that we worked together before she moved to Colorado. She was a very kind person, but I never felt anything for her either. I certainly do not want to come off as being hypercritical, but she was a large girl, and probably was twice my weight, which was something I could never get past even if I was interested in dating women.
The first few months of the new year were quiet. We'd settled into a pattern of calmness; we just enjoyed being homebodies, doing a few home improvement projects on the house, which definitely was satisfying my need to work with my hands. We both had ideas about the house, and for the most part Andrew liked my ideas and was happy to let me implement them.
On an early March weekend, I visited my parents while Andrew stayed home. Rarely if ever would we go to my parent's house together. I would have liked to invite him, but the suspicion would have gotten stronger from my mom and sister as to what my actual relationship was with Andrew. In our minds, we'd pulled off the ultimate plan and the ultimate fictional story of how it was that Andrew came "back" to Rockford when in fact he'd never been here prior to meeting me. Ironically, our fathers had a lot in common as both were farmers and grew up on a farm. We were certain that they would have a lot to talk about, but once again there was no way on this earth that they would ever be allowed to meet as long as Andrew and I were still closeted, for fear that our lies would be exposed.
My dad and I were talking in his shop where he worked on the farm equipment and other mechanical projects. He told me about an old neighbor who lived about a half mile south of their house. His wife was in poor health and was more than likely going to pass away within the next month or so. I only halfway listened because my dad was the type of guy that never had an enemy and would talk to almost anyone, anywhere. But what he finally had to say at the end of this particular story about the neighbor named Archie, was that if and when his wife passed away, he was going to put the house up for sale and move to South Dakota. Always thinking of my "best interest", he told Archie that I might be interested in buying the house from him, so if he decided to sell to give us first chance. Initially, I wrote it off as just jibber jabber and only talk between two old friends. It really did not even seem significant enough to mention it to Andrew. As I drove past the house on the way back to Andrew's house, it looked interesting enough even though the house was going to need some work, it was located on one acre of land. I shrugged my shoulders as I continued the drive back to the house, and honestly forgot about it.
In April, Andrew and I took a trip to South Texas. It had been nearly five years since my last trip to the Rio Grande Valley, also known simply as "The Valley" by native Texans. My grandparents used to spend the winter in the Valley, and I had visited them several times, so many times in fact that I had a really good knowledge of the roads and the small towns that stretched from Brownsville to McAllen. For this trip, we flew into San Antonio, rented a car, and first drove to Laredo, where we followed the Rio Grande River down to the Valley where we stayed at a hotel located on the fringes of a town called Weslaco. We spent some time on South Padre Island, went to Mexico once or twice, and just enjoyed being in the nice warm weather of south Texas and did not have to think about work. This trip was so different than our trips to Seattle in the sense that there were no good places to hike or camp. But it was nice to just spend time together.
The week went by too quickly and before long we were back on the plane heading for home. It looked like the year would shape up to be a decent year for us as our fourth anniversary of meeting Memorial Day weekend was quickly approaching. Just as we'd done that first time we met back in 1990, we had planned to go canoeing on the Kickapoo River again and just celebrate our time together as a couple. Yes, we had endured the ups and downs of a relationship just like many other couples do. But through it all we had survived and were now comfortable being just us.
A phone call from my father in early June of 1994 became the phone call that was instrumental in changing everything. He called to tell me that Archie's wife had passed away and that he was asked to be a pall bearer at her funeral. Of course he obliged and was there for Archie during his time of need. A day after the funeral, once again Archie told my dad about his intention to sell the house and move to his sister's house in South Dakota, just like he'd talked about with my dad earlier. Later that week, Dad called me and asked if I was interested in the house. The conversation went something like this:
"Hey Austin, I got a call from Archie. He's going to sell everything and is giving us first chance at the house. Are you interested?"
I thought for a moment and then replied. "Sure, I can take a look at it and see what he wants for it and go from there."
"Well son, I am sure you want to get back into your own house again. I'm sure you don't want to rent from Andrew for the rest of your life, do you?"
"That's not really my plan, Dad. I'd love to get back into my own house again. This sounds like a great opportunity to do just that."
"Oh hell yeah. And I don't think he's going to ask much for it either. My guess is that it will be somewhere around $40 or $50 thousand. I know it needs work, but you have to remember that it is on one acre. It would definitely be a great opportunity for you."
"Well, when are we going to meet him and talk about it?" I cautiously asked, knowing that rarely do I find myself in the right place at the right time when it comes to finding deals on something that has great potential.
"He said we can meet tomorrow morning -- Saturday -- if that works for you."
"Sure. I'll pick you up." I told him.
Saturday morning I picked Dad up and we made the short drive to Archie's house. I was on alert, looking at everything related to the house as we went in to meet the widower. The house needed a lot of work, in fact it was in need of a complete house makeover inside and out. Archie knew this. We talked about the house, his dearly departed wife, and his future. When the time came to talk about what he wanted for the house, I about fell out of the chair. He wanted $31,000 for the two bedroom, three car garage on a one acre lot. I knew this was a gift and could not turn it down even in the state of disrepair. It would be a monumental project, but it would be so very rewarding if it turned out the way my plans were starting to be formed. I told him I'd get back to him tomorrow, and he said that was fine.
"Austin, if you don't buy that house, I'm going to buy it, fix it up and sell it." Dad stated on the way back to his house. "You would be crazy to let this opportunity go." He warned.
"I know Dad, let me think about it tonight and I'll let you know tomorrow just like I promised Archie."
Everything about the house would be very positive except for two things. First, I would be back to living close to my parents and could therefore expect visits from them at any given time. Second, would Andrew want to sell his house and move in with me? I would get the answer from the last question as soon as I returned to Rockford.
"You're going to do WHAT?" were the first words out of Andrew's mouth when I told him about Archie's house that I was thinking about buying.
"It is a great opportunity. You know how much I love working on houses. This is a great chance to really make something nice out of the house and it would be a nice place for us both to live in a quieter area than where we now live." I had to put that spin on the house deal, so he would at least consider it.
"I know you like working on houses Austin, but the fact of the matter is that I cannot sell the idea to my parents of selling this house to move into your house, a house that from what you've told me needs a lot of work. I just cannot do it. Furthermore, why are you doing this to me?"
He had a good point. But just like Colorado, I could not convince Andrew to move with me to the house in Rockton. In fact, he gave me an ultimatum later that day after our initial conversation broke up with him going to his room.
"If you buy that house, we are done."
"But I don't want to be done, rather I want us to continue being us." I knew that this decision was going to represent a turning point in our relationship and my ability to remain closeted.
"Look Austin, I cannot go through what I went through with you and the whole Josh thing. Quite simply, if you move out, I cannot feel confident that I can trust you living ten miles away from me." He had a point, a good point. But I still wanted my cake and wanted to eat it too.
With tears forming in his eyes, I knew that once again I had hurt him. We had been through a lot together. We had overcome great odds to be together in the first place. Now a serious crack had formed in the foundation of our relationship. In fact, the building was teetering on the edge and was ready to come falling down. I tried to go to him again, to hold him, to try to convince him that we could make it work and still be us. But to no avail. He walked back into his room and closed the door.
I became an emotional wreck. I was completely torn between essentially appeasing my father who had issued me an ultimatum of sorts by saying that if I didn't want the house he would buy it. And if I didn't buy the house, he would clearly form the assumption that there was more to my relationship with Andrew than just roommates. If I was confronted by my father about his assumption, then it would clearly lead to me coming out to my family, which was a choice I did not want to make, nor was I ready to accept to myself that I was one hundred percent without a doubt a gay man. See that is the crazy thing. Andrew and I had been together four years, and I still could not convince myself that I was all in, one hundred percent, gay, evident by the dates with the women in the previous year.
Reminiscent of the time that I was seeing Josh, I went to bed alone that Saturday night. I laid in bed unable to sleep. My thoughts were consumed with the crisis that was now at hand. Pass up the opportunity to buy the house and run the risk of exposing the lie I had been living over the past four years with Andrew and remain a couple with him in his house or take a chance that maybe he would have a change of heart and be willing to move in with me after all. As the seconds and minutes ticked away that night as I laid alone in bed that night, I pondered our future and hoped that when the darkness of night gave way to the early summer morning, the answer to my issue at hand would be crystal clear and would reveal an answer that would be the best case scenario for everyone.
If only it was that simple.