Chapter 2

Ray couldn’t imagine ever loving anyone the way he had loved Penny. Even the thought of casual sex with another woman was not appealing. However, these feelings didn’t seem to extend to sex with men. This both confused and concerned him. However, he was a young enough man that his sexual needs soon outweighed any reluctance on his part, and he decided to explore his long dormant same-sex attraction.

That decided, now came the question of just how to go about it. The thought of picking up someone at a gay bar or meeting someone on a website for casual sex seemed unappealing. He didn’t want to get to know his would-be partner, form a friendship, and he certainly didn’t want to get emotionally attached. He didn’t intend to have a romantic involvement with another man. He just wanted to have sex. He just hadn’t the faintest notion of how this was accomplished in the gay world. How did a guy find someone with whom to get your rocks off without some degree of personal interaction?

Then, too, there was the fact that he still worked for Penny’s father’s business: a conservative Christian publishing company at which Ray was editor-in-chief and destined to become its CEO when Penny’s father retired. His foray into man to man sex, if it ever happened, would have to be done very discretely, and in such a way that it was understood it was just for sex, no strings attached, with no chance of emotional involvement, not even friendship, and as anonymously as possible.

But where could Ray find such an arrangement? 2

“That’s it! I’m done with this fuckin’ shit!” Br’er Harris exclaimed as he came into his apartment and slammed the door behind him.

“Well, hello to you, too, Sunshine,” Mazie Hudson, Br’er’s roommate, said dryly. “Would you mind not scaring the piss out of Mickey?”

She got up from the couch, picked up the trembling Chihuahua, and pointed to a wet circle on the carpet.

Br’er sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up,” he said and went into the kitchen to get paper towels and the bottle of Urine Pro Plus pet stain and odor remover they kept on hand for these occasions—which occurred much too frequently in Br’er’s opinion.

When he came back into the living room, Mazie had reseated herself on the sofa and was reassuring Mickey that Br’er was not mad at him.

“So what’s the crisis tonight?” she asked as Br’er knelt to clean up the mess his outburst had created.

“Ricky!” Br’er said. He sighed deeply as he knelt, squirted the odor remover on the wet spot, and began to soak it up with the towels.

“You want to tell Mazie and Mickey all about it?” she asked in a motherly tone. “I thought you and Ricky were hitting it off.”

“So did I,” Br’er said sadly. He finished the initial steps of the cleanup and sat down on the couch.

“Before you start your tale of woe, you have to say sorry to Mickey for scaring him like that,” Mazie said, her tone teasing.

Br’er rolled his eyes and, reaching out to the little dog, said, “I’m sorry, Mick, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Evidently Mickey was not ready to forgive for as Br’er reached to pet him, he pinned his ears back and showed his teeth.

“Mickey! Be nice,” Mazie admonished the little dog. “Br’er’s apologizing.”

At her words, Mickey relaxed some and allowed a reluctant Br’er to scratch his head.

“Now kiss and make up,” Mazie said.

Br’er looked at her, shook his head, and cautiously bent to give Mickey a quick peck on his nose. Before Br’er had quite landed the kiss, Mickey raised his head and began to lick Br’er on the lips.

Br’er sat up, making a face. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“There, all is forgiven,” Mazie said brightly. “Now tell me, what’s the latest crisis in your love life all about?”

Br’er sat back, leaned against the couch, and stared at the ceiling. “Rick and I decided to go dancing at The Stampede. We weren’t there five minutes—five minutes!” he repeated for emphasis. “We got drinks and were walking to a table. This twink comes up and asks him to dance. So the big jerk hands me his glass, says, ‘find us a table’, and goes off with the guy.”

“And?” Mazie prompted when Br’er was silent for a time.

Br’er sat up, turned, and looked at her. “And he didn’t come back for a half hour. He just left me sitting there—alone—like a dumb shit while he’s off flirting on the dance floor with this…this…guy,” Br’er finished lamely as if he couldn’t think of a name to call him that was derogatory enough to do him justice.