The Downlow Alpha (The Identity Crises Book 1) (7 page)

              I woke up disoriented, feeling my head pounding. I had drunk way to much beer, I thought as I struggled to open my eyes. The light shining in from around the curtains were blinding to my sensitive eyes. I looked around, not recognizing my surroundings. I struggled to remember, and it started coming back to me slowly, brief images of Clint as he made love to my manhood flooding my mind.

              A rustle next to me caught my attention, and it took a minute to realize what I was looking at. It was Clint, sleeping next to me. He was naked, and despite a part of me that wanted to look away, I couldn’t tear my eyes off of his wide shoulders, his muscular back. His muscles in his shoulder blades had dimples in them, dimples that were appealing, pleasant to look at. His body tapered down as I looked down at the small of his back.

              Then my eyes came to rest on his hard ass cheeks, and despite my hangover I felt a vague stirring in my cock as images of me fucking him in that ass flew through my mind. Remembrances of the sensations I felt as I was pressing into his backside, feeling him squeeze me inside his forbidden tunnel.

              I thought I was going to be sick as it fully hit me I had sex last night with a man. I slowly rolled off of the bed, desperation filling me to not wake him. Not to have to confront the conflict raging inside of me over my actions last night, our actions. I looked around, and panicked when I didn’t see my clothes. Then it dawned on me they were in the game room, and I tiptoed out and wandered the house till I found it.

              I hurried into my clothes, and was almost running to my car once I was outside. As I drove home, I kept looking in the rearview mirror, trying to see if there was something tangible I could see, some indication I was gay. As I pulled into my driveway, I felt like crying. My life was out of control, and I was careening around in my pain, making everything worse. If anyone I knew found out about last night, my life would be ruined. No one would understand. I would be a laughing stock.

              I pictured all my friends finding out, finding out and turning their backs on me. Sheila finding out, and telling me she couldn’t be with a fag. Not letting me see my daughter because she didn’t want her exposed to a gay lifestyle. As my mind was wrestling with it all, I stripped and hopped in the shower. I turned the hot water on hotter than I like, burning my body as I tried to scrub off what I had done last night, desperate to scrub off some intangible something that would make me straight again, undo the night's events.

              After I dried off, wincing at the sensitivity from the scrubbing as I wiped myself with the towel, it hit me what I had to do. I should have done it to start with. Jeff had said there were three options. I should have went with the first one right off, and just reached out to Sheila. I felt anger well up in me as I thought about my talk with him. This was all his fault for saying going out was one of the options. He was to blame for me laying with another man.

              My mind flashed quickly back to scenes of Clint sucking me, and despite my anger and confusion, I felt myself stirring as it came back to me how passionate it had been, the pleasure he had created in me unlike any I had ever felt. I pushed the image out of my mind as I finished getting dressed. I grabbed my cellphone, and cursed when I turned it on. It was still on text message, the text from Clint giving me his number searing my horrified mind. He had my number. I had forgotten.

              What if he reached out again? I quickly tried to reason why he wouldn’t. I was just a one night stand for him, I reassured myself. Everyone knew gay men lived for the random sex, seeking out as many partners as they could. The thrill of the strange. I relaxed a little as I pretended I knew gay men were actually like this. In hindsight, I knew I was just grabbing onto the stereotype in my desperation not to see Clint as an individual. It helped me disconnect from what I had felt with him, to view him as the stereotype.

              I dialed Sheila's number, and felt my nervousness grow as it started ringing. I heard her answer, and her voice made me cringe.

              "What the fuck do you want, Jeremy?"

              "Sheila"…I stammered, "I think we should talk. Face to face. Fix this," I said, hating how pathetic I sounded as the words came out. I winced as she started laughing.

              "There is nothing to fix. Mitch is twice the man that you are, and knows how to treat a lady. Especially in the sack." She laughed at me again as she said the last part, pleased with her dig at my manhood.

              "Do us both a favor," she continued. "Don’t call me again. I have an appointment for an attorney later this week, and when you get served the papers, it will spell out the conditions for seeing my daughter."

              I was starting to protest as I heard the click, and knew she had hung up on me. Rage filled me as I threw my phone. The fucking bitch. Her daughter? Who the fuck did she think she was? Megan was our child. I knew I needed to retain counsel, and quick. After hearing the delight she was taking in punishing me with her actions, I had no doubt we were over.

            
 
I took another swig off of my beer, and wiped my eyes again. I thought back over my marriage to Sheila, all the things I wish I had done and didn't. The little things. The things that didn’t matter until it was to late, and you realized how big those little things really were. I realized it probably would not have saved us, as she had a flaw in her character. It was bad enough she had left me for my best friend. But out of all the men in the world, it had to be my best friend. Mitch and I have known each other since second grade.

              But to keep my daughter from me, to think of her as a weapon to use against me, that was unforgivable. Despite all of my flaws, my inattentiveness, it did not call for the extreme malice she was displaying towards me. I tried to comfort myself that one day Mitch would go through the same thing, be punished similarly by the bitch.

              I looked around, disgusted with the shambles my house was in. Almost all of my clothes were dirty, and dishes that needed washed had spilled out onto the counters. I felt a new resolve after my self-reflection of my marriage. I rinsed the dishes and put them into the dishwasher. They all wouldn’t fit, but that is ok I thought. Several of them needed to soak anyway. I filled the sink up with hot water, and put them in to soak.

              I walked the house, gathering all of my dirty clothes and got them to the utility room. I separated them, and decided to do my pants first. As I grabbed the pants I was wearing last night, an image of my kiss with Clint flashed through my mind, remembering the feel of his hands deftly unbuttoning them and falling to his knees in front of me. I felt the sexual energy start dancing, as my cock tingled and grew hard. My nerves recalling the mind blowing pleasure he had created in me. He had worked a magic on my senses I had never dreamed possible, I had to admit.

              After I got the wash started, my mind was pulling at me to call Clint, see if it was possible he thought of me as more than a one night stand.

              My hand was trembling with nervous energy as I listened to his phone ring, hoping he would answer before I second guessed myself and chickened out. He answered on the third ring.

              "Hey Jeremy," his deep voice said. "What a nice surprise. The way you just snuck off without a goodbye or note, I had written you off. Thought maybe you regretted the closeness of last night."

              Shame filled me as he had hit it on the head. I decided to fess up, keep honesty between us.

              "I have to admit I panicked this morning when I woke up next to you and saw you naked, remembered what we had done. I have never been with a man before. I still have conflicting feelings on the whole thing. My whole life I have been taught to look down on people who are gay. Taught it was wrong, gay people to be shunned. That God punishes gay people. And yet…," I paused, uptight about saying it aloud.

              "I am listening," he said, and the excitement in his voice gave me the strength to say it.

              "I have never felt so alive, brimming with passion as you created in me last night. You ignited something within me I never dreamed was possible, and try as I might to block it, my mind is obsessed with you, with us. Of the magic that manifests when you touch me."

              My heart was pounding after I said it, admitted it.

              "Jeremy, you don’t know how good it is to hear you say that. I don’t know what it is about you, but I was instantly attracted to you last night. As the night went on, I felt myself pulled to you more and more. It helps I feel such a strong physical attraction to you. But I felt so at ease with you, and was touched by your openness as you shared of yourself last night. You talked so candidly with me, so openly it felt like we were the best of friends, who have known each other forever."

              I felt a warm feeling in my chest, and realized I was smiling.

              "Are you doing anything tonight," I asked.

              "No, no plans. What do you have in mind?"

              "Would you want to come over to my place? See where I live, and talk about things?"

              I cursed myself as it came out, hating how vague I had just sounded. Even now my mind was rebelling against what I wanted to do with him, fighting against saying it.

              His laughter set me at ease, as though he knew my dilemma and was not insulted. His voice had a kindness to it as he said he would love to come over. I gave him the address, and we agreed on seven.

              I felt butterflies in my stomach as seven approached. I kept looking out my window, my heart fluttering every time I saw headlights approaching. I finally saw his car, and almost ran to the door when I saw him turn into the driveway. My quick burst set my heart to racing, and took a deep breath to calm myself before opening the door. I saw him walking up the walk, and he was dressed really nice, dark khaki's and a dark blue polo shirt. His shirt fit him perfect, accentuating his wide shoulders, tight against his powerful biceps. He was stunningly handsome.

              He smiled, and I marveled at how white and even his teeth were. He was Hollywood handsome, I thought to myself as he stepped up to me. I started to offer my hand to shake, and he grabbed me and pulled me to him, hugging me. My first thought was fear that the neighbors would see, but feeling myself against his hard body excited me, and I felt a slight stirring down below.

              I let him past after he let me go, and shut and locked the door behind us.

              "I am sorry I don’t have much in the way of entertainment. My ex cleaned me out," I apologized.

              He smiled understandingly.

              "I understand. Besides, we are just going to have a few brews and talk, and maybe whatever else comes to mind," he said. My mind pictured his mouth enveloping my hardness and I could feel myself growing hard with desire as I waved him to sit on the couch.

              "Let me get us a couple beers."

              I could feel his eyes on my ass as I left the room, and wondered what it would feel like if I let him penetrate me, let him fuck my ass. A quick flash of fear hit me, fear of how painful it must be. I returned with the beers and sat next to him on the couch.

              "Be patient with me," I blurted out. "This is all so new to me, against everything I have ever been taught. I don’t know that anyone in my life will understand, and I am so confused. The only thing I am not confused about is how you make me feel."

              Without saying a word, he leaned over and I felt his lips press against mine. I instantly melted into his energy, allowing my passion to merge with his as I kissed him back deeply. He moved his body as we kissed, shifting himself onto his knees, and I felt his hands grab my face. My cock was throbbing hard, and I could feel myself leaking in my need for him. A need whose fire was growing in intensity with each passing second we kissed.

              "What the fuck…you’re a fucking faggot," I heard her say, and my teeth hit hard against Clint's as my body jumped. I turned and looked, the image of Sheila staring in horror and disgust filling me with fear. I watched her turn and run from the room. I jumped up and ran after her, but as I reached the door, I saw her car backing out of the driveway, spitting rocks as she gave it to much gas. I watched her drive off down the road, feeling myself grow sick.

              I heard Clint walk up behind me, and he put his hand lightly on my shoulder.

              "Maybe I should go for now, give you time to sort this all out," he said. I was to numb to say anything, and nodded agreement as my mind was thankful for his understanding. I went in and shut the door, hearing his engine start. I stumbled to the couch, and sat down, chugging the rest of my beer. I had gay sex one time and was already outed. Already known now to be a fag. And I still was trying to sort out what I was. But to Sheila, and soon the world I imagined, I was now a full blown fag. My world was over. I knew I could never return to normalcy ever again now.