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. Now after making amends with Andrew, 1994 found us together, a happy couple once again. But would we survive the year together?
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 17
After a night of miserable sleep, tossing and turning with dreams that were not remembered as the new day dawned, I woke up feeling as if I'd only slept ten minutes. We had recently celebrated our fourth year together if you count meeting for the first time during the Memorial Day weekend in 1990 as being the start of the clock on our official time together. It had been an incredible ride as I'd spent my more than a third of the decade living my life as a gay man. But now the storm clouds had gathered on our otherwise storybook relationship. I had to make a decision as to whether I should buy the dilapidated house that would allow me to fulfill one of my dreams of remodeling a house, or should I pass up on the house and continue to live with Andrew and hope that I would still be able to hide my identity from my parents and family.
It was a clear and sunny start to that warm Sunday in June. I got up, took a shower, and made a cup of coffee. Andrew had not yet emerged from his room by the time I decided to go to the park for a walk with hopes of coming to a decision on the house.
The drive from the house we shared to the park where I liked to hike was roughly fifteen minutes. Since it was a Sunday and still somewhat early, I got to the west end of the lake, parked the truck, and started walking west along the creek that formed from the run off from the dam, then took a right on a shared trail that ran along the edge of the woods. At one time this meadow, which now had smaller trees growing amongst the grass was once farm land, as there was a definite difference between the old growth oak and hickory trees and the small scrubby trees that were trying to establish their roots in the meadow to one day provide shelter for the many wild animals that called the park home.
Being alone and one with nature helped to clear my mind and weigh the pros and cons of buying the fixer upper house in South Beloit. Pro-wise, I'd be closer to work. I could expand my knowledge of fixing up a house. I could design the entire house the way I wanted it to be. By fixing the house, I would gain instant equity in the house, as even though I'd have to put a fair amount of money into the house, I could get it appraised once the repairs were done and then refinance any outstanding loans I had into one lower monthly payment. Most of all, I would be out of the city of Rockford.
Con-wise, I would run the risk that Andrew and I would be over. The repairs could end up costing a lot more than originally thought. It might be tougher living back by my parents, especially if Andrew did decide to move in with me.
In the end, the reasons to buy the house outweighed the reasons for not buying the house close to an 8 to 3 margin. If Andrew carried out his threat that we would be finished as a couple, that would be a chance I'd have to take. With the sun shining brightly, the birds singing their happy morning songs, on a trail that ran along the woods in the expansive state park on a Sunday morning in June of 1994, I decided to proceed with the purchase of the house in South Beloit. If it meant the end of my relationship of four years with the man I professed my love for, the same man who helped me overcome the odds of a long distance relationship to be together to live as one, then it was a risk I decided I would have to take, in an effort to hide my sexuality from my parents, no matter how much it hurt the one who loved me.
But it wasn't that simple, or that easy. I had made the decision, yes. I tried getting financing for the house by going to a local bank, but was turned down, saying that the house itself did not have enough value to justify the loan. Essentially, they felt that the property was worth more than the house was. They would not give me a loan based on the idea that I was going to fix up the house either. Sadly, I called my dad and told him of the decision by the bank I chose and told him I'd probably have to let the house go. He had gotten a call from Archie about the house sale, and he was ready to list the house with a realtor, so Dad told him to give us twenty four hours and Dad would talk to his banker and see if they could do anything for us.
In those days, there was still value in having a good name at the bank. Dad's banker said that he would let me buy the house with a cash loan by signing a one year note on the house, giving me time to do the repairs. Once the repairs were complete, I would then get the house refinanced and consolidate any extra expenses into the one mortgage loan.
When I originally told Andrew that the loan for the house was going to fall through, his only response was that "maybe miracles do come true" which meant that I would not move out of his house. So when Dad's banker helped us out, Andrew was defeated, and the reality that I was going to move out started to sink in. I reassured him that I had no plans to move out until the renovation was complete, which probably wouldn't be until the end of the summer. Three months ought to be enough time, I thought to myself.
Boy was I wrong!
From the moment I took the first swing of the hammer, the project grew exponentially. Originally I had planned on fixing the bedroom first, then moving into the house and working on the rest of the house as time allowed.
That idea got thrown out the window into the dumpster with the rest of the reconstruction debris I threw out during the project. Without really boring everyone with gory details of the rehab, let's just say that at the end of the three months when I'd planned to be moving in, I had a 360 degree view of the entire outer walls of the house when standing in the middle of the house. I could look up and see the inside of the roof, look down where the bathroom floor once was and could see the basement floor instead. The five grand I had saved for the project was almost gone, but in a project like this, the repairs had to be done the right way. The electrical system had to be updated, as was the plumbing, windows, doors, wall coverings, flooring and some of the exterior wall covering. As I soon learned, The right way can also be the expensive way.
In those first three months I spent nearly every waking hour away from work and sleep working on the house. Andrew and I spent literally no time together. He was still not happy with me and did not want anything to do with the house, or for that manner, me.
So at the three month mark I took my parents up on the offer to move into the basement of their house so I could save money by not paying rent to Andrew. My parents allowed me to live at their house for free, so it was a no brainer to make the move.
Moving day was difficult. A lot of the furniture in Andrew's house was mine, and so when the dust settled, Andrew was left with very little furniture and no TV.
When I had moved the last article of mine from the house, the time had arrived for me to give Andrew his house key back. As hard as it was, my intention at that time was to let him know that in my mind this wouldn't be the end of us, rather just time for me to finish the house project, leaving the door open for him to move in with me if he so desired. My thought was that we could still be together, albeit more difficult to see each other. That plan failed as the key was given back to him in hopes that he would want us to continue to be a couple.
"You know this is it for us, right?" Andrew told me on that warm Saturday afternoon in August as we stood in the kitchen of his house that now took on a foreign look and feel to me.
"That is up to you. Like I'd said before, the offer still stands. We can still be together and once the house is done if you want to move in, you can. I still love you. You know this was an opportunity that I couldn't turn down, right?" I almost pleaded now, hoping he would change his mind.
"You could have turned it down so we could still be together. I gave up my entire future at school in Iowa to be here with you. And now that you've done this, I have nothing keeping me here in Rockford. Not this house, not my job, not this town. You were the only reason I moved here. I love you very much, Austin, but I'm not going to keep a relationship going with you living in a different town and house. My entire reason for moving here was to be with you, in a house together, not separate. By you moving out, it's putting me in a deep financial hole because now I have to buy all new furniture, a television, and a new bed. I just do not want to be with you for a while. We are done. Good luck with your house."
He began to cry and walked away from me, going to his bedroom where he shut the door. I took one last look around the kitchen and dining room of the house that was once a happy place where we'd shared the last year or so, making love and had our dreams of living happily together until we moved on to the next chapter of our lives. It was bittersweet walking out the door of the house and driving away not knowing when we would see each other again.
Only time would tell.
For some reason, I didn't cry on the way back to the house. The fifteen minute drive had me almost relieved that this chapter of my life with Andrew had reached this point. In a good way, at least the incessant job of rehabbing the house had me so busy that I didn't have time for missing Andrew.
Looking back at that moment in my life I did realize that Andrew's reasons to be upset with me and for breaking up with me were indeed warranted. Although buying the rehab project house could be deemed for selfish reasons I suppose but then I think back about the main reason why I turned down the offer to move to Colorado with the company was that he did not want to move with me. It wasn't like I didn't try to make decisions based on our relationship, and after all I did offer him the opportunity to work on the house with me so it would be our house, designed by us and built with us in mind. In the end though my relationship with Andrew ended because ultimately neither of us were willing to fully accept who we were and who we had become. Instead we chose to stay closeted and hide our identities from our families. It wasn't just me; Andrew made that choice as well.
I tried to contact Andrew several times at work via company email, but my emails mostly went unanswered. The time between talking to each other stretched further apart now, and it would be weeks before we would talk to each other via phone or email.
One Saturday in September I was working at the house by myself. My sister's boyfriend had been helping me, but on this particular weekend he was busy doing something else. It was just about 11 o'clock in the morning and I had just taken a break from working on reconstructing a wall in the bedroom when I saw a familiar car pull in the driveway. It was Andrew.
I was very surprised to see him and of course I welcomed him into the house. This was the first time since I'd started the project some four months earlier that he stopped in to see the house. He was really surprised at the magnitude of the project I'd undertaken. I showed him everything I'd done to the house thus far and he was almost surprised to see just how much work was accomplished and what was still ahead of me. When I showed him the patio and the garage, he was pretty much grossed out by the condition the patio and garage were in. We then went into the area on the west side of the garage where my future workshop was going to be. I had all of my tools and other assorted junk stored in this area. I turned on the lights in the workshop and we now stood looking around while I told him what my plans were for the room. What happened next caught me completely off guard.
We were standing close together as I was talking and before I knew it we were in each other's arms embracing. Our lips met and just like old times we were kissing like the lovers we once were. He whispered that he really missed me, and I agreed with him that I also missed being with him. Before I could say no, he dropped to his knees, undid my belt, unzipped my jeans, pulled down my briefs and took my stiffening cock deep into his mouth until his nose touched my pubes. Other than jacking off when the need would arise, I had not been sexual with anyone else since moving out of Andrew's house. So it would be easy to understand just how good his blow job felt. He always did give great head, and it didn't take long before he swallowed my entire load without missing a drop. The blow job was amazing and very quickly I realized just how much I missed being with him as well.
When he finished, he stood up, wiped his mouth on the back of his and, then apologized for what he had done. Remorse, perhaps? More than likely. Did I reciprocate?
I did not reciprocate. Yeah, I should have, but for some reason I couldn't. Maybe I feared someone like my dad showing up again like he did that first summer in my little house in South Beloit. Maybe if Andrew would have stopped blowing me before I came I would have dropped to me knees and took him in my mouth. The scenario definitely could have taken on a porn-like scene and made a heck of an amateur video, one in today's world that would have had several thousand likes. But instead we walked out of the workshop with only me being completely satisfied. Once I'd shot my load deep down his throat somehow the desire to do him had left me.
After the blow job in the workshop, there was an aura of awkwardness surrounding us. I think Andrew regretted it because he didn't stay much longer. We talked and did agree to see each other again soon. The remainder of that Saturday and Sunday all I could think about was how amazing his lips felt around my cock again, and how nice it was to be in his arms once again.
A few weeks later I found out that my grandfather had hip surgery that left him unable to live alone at night. Since I was the only single grandchild and even though I was up to my neck in work at the house, I volunteered to stay with him at night in case he needed any assistance getting around. Also since he'd giving me money for the rehab project on the house, I felt obligated to help him in return. My new weekly schedule now involved me getting to his house, which was located between Rockford and South Beloit around sunset and staying until morning. My day started by first going to work until three, then go to the house and work until seven, then shower at my parent's house before heading back to stay with Grandpa.
I did this same routine for close to two months before he started feeling better and no longer needed my assistance at night. During those two months it left me with little free time to do anything other than work at my full time job and work on the house. I didn't see Andrew or find time to meet anyone new.
This routine also gave me time to focus on living a lifestyle that wasn't a lifestyle that included have sex with guys. You see, what I failed to mention before was that another reason for moving out of Andrew's house and getting up to my neck in the rehab of the new house was that I felt that I wanted to try dating girls again. Andrew accepted this idea and understood my desire but had an inkling of where I would eventually end up.
He was right.
Once I had my phone service hooked up at the rehab house -- remember cell phones were a new technology then and was not something everyone had -- and I found myself answering an ad in the personals section of the Rockford newspaper. They had a new service in the paper where people could place an ad looking for love, sex, or whatever. Since I found it amusing to look at the ads at work, even at one point laughing about some of the postings with my coworkers, I secretly answered an ad for an eighteen year old guy who was looking for someone older like me.
I left Kevin a message after hearing his voice and waited for a response. A day or so later I got a response from him, and we began talking and finally agreed to meet. At first I was like a kid with a new toy. While he wasn't what you would call a cute guy, he had a thin build, wasn't very muscular, which was a total turn on to me, but seemed to be slightly slow. By that I mean that he almost seemed to be what we called in the nineties somewhat mentally challenged. But I overlooked this and reminded myself that my main reason for getting to know him was to get him in bed.
Since I had not yet finished the rehab and was still living in my parent's basement, taking him there would have been a huge mistake. In fact, I made the mistake of showing him the rehab house. A week or so after meeting him he showed up one cold evening in December when my sister's boyfriend was helping me work on the house. It was awkward trying to explain to him who this young guy was and why he was coming to see me at the rehab. Thankfully, Tom never asked me about Kevin, so all ended well, but it didn't mean I nearly freaked out and certainly learned in the future not to bring anyone I met to see the house until I was completely moved in.
The rehab was finally completed in early February of 1995. I had poured my entire heart, soul, and financial resources into the house and was rewarded for my efforts by getting a mortgage that allowed me to pay off my entire amount of bills that had accumulated from the project. I also had raised the value of the house by just over twenty thousand dollars in less than a year after purchasing the dilapidated property from Archie. Needless to say the project was a success, was very rewarding, had exceeded my expectations, and gave me a ton of confidence and pride in knowing that I had succeeded in my efforts, a gamble that clearly paid instant dividends. My reward was now living inside a place I could once again call my own, a house that was completely brand new on the inside. Now I was ready to get on with my life and try to figure out what path I wanted to pursue.
That path was still one that led me back to pursuing guys, at least in the short term. In fact, for the early part of '95 into the summer, I succeeded in getting Kevin in bed. As mentioned before, he was not that cute, in fact looking back now all that interested me was getting him in bed and finding out what he had between his legs. He was the complete polar opposite of Andrew. He had dropped out of high school, had trouble finding a job, and really had nothing going for him. But still I persisted until I got what I wanted.
One night in early March I brought him back to my house and we wound up in bed. He was completely unexperienced and as I slowly took his clothes off and revealed the prize I'd been so waiting to taste, my haste to suck him off ended fairly quick with him blowing his load after about five minutes. His dick wasn't anything special, average at best. A small crop of pubic hair, a hairy sack with smallish nuts that shot a decent sized load onto his stomach as I brought him to orgasm while my own hard cock drooled precum all over the inside of my briefs. My efforts were not reciprocated this time, which was fine. Eventually a few nights later he blew me, which was sufficient I suppose, but nothing like what Andrew had done to me so many times. For me it was all about feeling his hard dick in my mouth, and eventually inside me. That seemed to be all that mattered.
While it was fairly easy to hook up with Kevin whenever I wanted, I quickly grew tired of the idea that there would be any future between us. The realization that this kid had no focus in life, nor did he have any desire to finish his education was a complete turnoff to me. Where Andrew had a college degree and was very intelligent, this kid was like a lost head case. I soon found myself once again looking at the ads in the personal section in the newspaper again.
All of this time Andrew and I did maintain contact with each other on a once a month frequency, but it was mainly through email at work and an occasional voice mail. I kept my activities in the personal ads away from him, and still maintained the lie that I wanted to live the straight life for the time being.
Soon my desires to find someone new led me to answering another personal ad. Danny's ad said that he was twenty three, five foot -- seven, one hundred and twenty pounds. Immediately the thought of being with a thin twenty -- something was an incredible turn on, one that made me hard at the very thought of being with a cute young guy that thin. He had dark hair, blue eyes and sounded like someone that would fuel my desire. My horniness reached such a level that just reading his ad made me jack off in bed, spraying cum all over my chest as I fantasized about being with this guy.
As luck would have it, he did call me back after hearing my message. We eventually decided to meet after having a few phone conversations. In order to meet somewhere safe, we agreed to meet at the mall in Machesney Park. When we finally met at the mall, his physical description sent me into overdrive thinking about how much raw sexual fun there could be with this boy. Just as described, he was almost pencil thin, not much more than skin and bones, in fact very waifish, if you will. He was even skinnier than Josh. That first night we met and talked for quite a bit, my cock was half hard the entire time.
There was one huge problem that struck me about Danny. He was very effeminate and while he was not out and proud like Josh, it was obvious his mannerisms and actions that he was indeed gay. That presented me with a problem if anything long term was to develop between Danny and me. But like Kevin, it was soon quite obvious to me that the only thing there would potentially be between Danny and me would be just plain and simply sex.
So of course it was now becoming easier to get just that. Where there was apprehension about sleeping with Andrew early on in our relationship, there was literally no qualms about getting these boy toys into bed after just one or two dates. The first time Danny came to visit me at my house, we soon wound up naked in bed making out. Where Kevin was inexperienced, awkward, and more than likely was a virgin when he shot his first load, Danny was experienced and more attractive.
This attractiveness was obviously quite a turn on for me. While we were making out, it wasn't long before he was sucking on my dick and my desires to be with a skinny guy finally came true. As much as he turned me on physically, his cock and balls left something to be desired. His cock was only about five inches and thin when it was fully erect, and his balls were quite small as well. Still this turned me on as my cock stayed hard all the time playing with him that first night.
For whatever reason, after making out for about an hour and kissing and sucking each other, my desire was to have him in me. That was an epic failure. He couldn't stay hard enough to keep the condom on, and even when he tried to bareback me in my own desperation to feel him inside of me, he could not stay hard.
It then dawned on me that this kid was a bottom boy. Why did I miss the clues? It seemed like to me that he'd have no problem fucking me, giving me what I needed, but in my own lack of gay sexual knowledge, it was something that was missed.
This did not become a problem. As much as I loved feeling a cock fucking me deeply, remember that prior to meeting Andrew there were a few girls that I'd fucked and really did enjoy it. So it was no problem when it came to fucking Danny.
Yes, he was quite a bottom bitch. But as much as he loved being fucked and I did enjoy fucking him, our sexual rendezvous were few and far between. Spring had arrived and spring soon became summer, which meant that the part time landscaping business with my dad started again, which meant that my free time was very limited again.
I did keep in contact with both of my two new fuck buddies and would see them each on separate occasions as necessary. The idea of being in a relationship with either Danny or Kevin never entered my mind There just was no desire to have anything else with them but sex.
The summer soon turned to fall, and I soon drifted away from both of them, coming to the realization that neither of them would equal what I had with Andrew. And the idea of getting back together with Andrew was something that was not part of my thoughts, nor was it a part of Andrew's thoughts either. We went for months without talking to each other, our former relationship of four years was officially dead.
At some point in early fall I had gone shopping one weekday to a local store that has long since faded away to being another big box store that has met its demise. Since I loved listening to music, this particular store had everything media related for the mid -- nineties. Media Play was like a toy store for me. I could never escape that store without buying at least two or three CD's or even a book or a video cassette movie. Yeah, a video cassette. Remember them? Predecessor to the DVD which has now given way to online movie rentals. Man, how technology has changed. How crazy is it now to think that you can go to the music section at Barnes and Noble and find more LP's than you can CD's? Seriously? What will make a comeback next...8 track tapes?
Sorry to jump off track there. At least we know the reasons why big box stores like Media Play no longer exist. Thank you Amazon...
The point is that on that nice fall day I was perusing the smooth jazz section of the CD's when my eye caught someone familiar walking by me on the opposite aisle. The casual glance didn't seem to register in my mind right away, as focusing on finding the desired musical selection was my way of pretending or refusing to acknowledge who I'd just seen.
But that method failed and before long the individual who I'd not seen in close to five years was now standing close by me.
"Austin?" she said, in an inquisitive voice, acting surprised to see me there.
"Lynnette. How are you?" was my reply, also acting surprised to run into her there at that store at that particular moment.
"I am well, and you? What brings you here during the day? Are you on vacation?"
"No, I work second shift and just came down here to see if I could find some new music. What about you?"
"I also work second shift at the newspaper. And I'm also here to find new music. Wow, it's great to see you."
"You too." I was still in disbelief that after breaking up with her some five years ago that I would see her again. Recalling what caused us to break up back then was that I'd made the comment to her that I was ready to settle down, get married and start a family. She pretty much ran away from me as fast as she could back then, which led to the five year hiatus in our relationship and friendship. Although that particular time was the second time we'd gotten back together then broken up, I figured I'd never see her again, let alone consider dating her again. But what's the saying, third time is a charm?
We talked for awhile that afternoon, exchanged numbers and vowed to get in touch with each other again.
About a week or so later I gave Lynnette a call. We talked for nearly an hour after work until nearly three in the morning. This was my typical night after work, so it was a great way to spend my otherwise very quiet nights after work. I have to admit it was nice to talk with her again. We always had a fair amount in common -- we both liked the same music, the same type of movies, television shows, etc. We also knew how to make each other laugh and have a good time. Interestingly enough, Lynette was a writer, and was close to getting published. At the time I did not know what genre she wrote, but it turned out she basically wrote romance novels which is just a step above writing porn, correct? Okay, maybe not quite so close, but still sex filled just maybe not so blatant.
We began dating again. This notion probably has many of you shaking your head wondering what the hell I was thinking. I get that and probably should have seen a shrink. But the odd thing was that even though this woman wasn't what you'd call hot or even close, we did enjoy each other's company and when the time came for us to enjoy each other physically, I did "rise" to the occasion and satisfied her over and over again. In fact while fucking her at her upstairs apartment near downtown Rockford, I couldn't imagine being with Andrew, Josh, Kevin, or Danny. It felt that good, and I had nothing to hide.
We continued dating through the remainder of '95 and into the near year. We decided to go to Fort Myers, Florida on vacation to see some of her friends. She'd spent a year or so working at a newspaper there, so the best part was that we'd be able to stay with her friends most of the time and would only have to stay in a couple of hotels, mainly one in Tampa before flying back home.
The trip was awesome. It felt great to escape the harsh and brutally cold January winter for a week. We spent a great week eating good food, drinking quite a bit, and fucking just as much if not even more. She was on the pill, so thankfully she didn't get pregnant on that trip. I hated using condoms, so of course the sex was phenomenal.
At this point in our renewed relationship, I reflected back over the last few months and tried to rationalize what I was doing. In the last six months I had gone from screwing around with two random young guys I'd met through a newspaper personals dating section to rekindling a relationship with a woman I'd known for close to ten years who worked for the newspaper. Irony or just plain coincidence? As long as she didn't have anything to do with the dating section of the newspaper I'd probably be okay. In essence, my lifestyle for the past four and a half years was probably safely tucked away in the back of my mind and no remnants remained so she would find out. The main takeaway from the past three months of dating Lynette again was that I had nothing to hide anymore as far as being out in public with her.
I can imagine that several if not everyone who is reading this probably are shaking their heads and calling me a confused fool. I deserve that. But what must be reiterated is that I had dated women before and at this point in my life had felt that having sex with a woman was very enjoyable. From the first girl who stole my cherry and enjoyed giving me head on almost a daily basis when I was twenty one to the chick from work who had a tasty pussy to Lynette, having my cock firmly implanted deep inside them when I blew my load was indeed pleasurable. There was something natural about being inside a woman that did feel right to me. So how could I call myself exclusively gay if I loved fucking a woman? Did the bisexual label fit me better, if indeed I needed to wear a label on my shirt saying "Hello, my name is Austin, I am a bisexual!" No, I don't think so!
I decided to live for the moment and not worry about who I was.
Ironically Lynette knew two gay guys that she'd known since high school. Jim and James were a couple who had been dating since high school. They were in a committed relationship and were fairly active in the community. They were also out and proud. Both of them were super nice guys and they both treated me very well. Thankfully, I'd not run across them during my time with Andrew as most of the time while we would spend our time in Madison or Chicago rather than be in the gay community in Rockford. For that reason I was happy that we avoided the Rockford scene. I felt confident that their gaydar had not picked up any signals I might have been emitting; after all I was well over ninety percent straight acting and appearing.
When Lynette and I returned from our Florida vacation we both agreed that we felt like the separation after being together for a week was difficult. We both felt like we wanted to be with each other more than just a couple of nights a week. The discussion came up about living together. She suggested that I sell my house and move in to her apartment in downtown Rockford. I vehemently disagreed. It made no sense to me to leave a house that I'd poured my heart, body, and soul into for nearly a year only to sell it and move into a rented apartment. After discussing this idea for a week or so, she finally agreed to move into my house in South Beloit.
The move took place at the end of March. Her things mixed with my things and soon we had our home together.
So happily ever after, right?
I am sure many of you think that my story has come to an end, leaving you the reader feeling upset and completely pissed off at me for ending it this way.
Not so fast.