Last Year's Model

Chapter 1-2

Then Blake talked a bit about how happy he was with the forty-year-old Adam.

“He worried a lot at first about the age difference, but I think I’ve finally convinced him it doesn’t matter.”

A few minutes later, Blake picked up a fry, dipped it into his catsup, and then let it dangle as he asked, “So, how has your life changed since you made sergeant? Are you getting any?”

Ray chuckled. “Not very damn much. The last s*x I had was in the cab of a pickup.”

Blake grinned and shook his head. “That’s just sad, man.”

“I think that may have been the last straw, the thing that finally got me off my ass and convinced me to find this place.”

“So now gay Colby had better look out. There’s a new stud on the loose!”

“It takes more than just having an apartment. The pool of unattached gay guys isn’t really that big. And you’d be surprised how many don’t want to get involved with a cop.”

“That sucks, man!” Blake said.

Later, when Ray drove him back to Adam’s house, Blake said, getting out of the SUV, “Tell ya what I’m gonna do. I’ll keep my eyes open. See if I can fix you up with somebody.”

“You make it sound like I’m really hard up.”

“Well, aren’t you?”

“Maybe you’re right,” Ray said with a wry grin. “Say hi to the prof for me. I’m glad you and Adam seem to be working out so well. And thanks, man. I appreciate the help and it was good to get caught up.”

Instead of going back to the apartment, he headed for the mall. He’d realized while eating take-out with Blake that he needed dishes, pots and pans, a toaster—all kinds of kitchen stuff.

* * * *

It was a mid-May Saturday night at Nellie’s. Ray was beginning to feel more at home in his new apartment. The new furniture had been delivered and most of the boxes were unpacked. So he’d decided to drop by Colby’s only gay bar and see what was going on. He walked the mile from his apartment to the bar so he wouldn’t have to worry about driving home afterward.

The University’s spring term was over. The seniors were graduated and gone. The first summer term would start on Monday. It should have been quiet, but the place was surprisingly busy. There were no empty booths, so Ray took a stool at the bar and ordered a Boston Lager.

As he sat there sipping his beer and watching the busy scene, someone slipped onto the next stool. About Ray’s height. Blond. Early twenties. Obviously a CSU student. After placing his order with the bartender, the younger guy turned to Ray, looked him up and down, grinned, and said, “You’re the cop, aren’t you?”

Ray looked the guy straight in the eye and said, “Yeah, and you’re the slut, right?”

Unfazed, the younger man said, “Bernie Caldwell. And let’s just say I know all about making guys feel good.” He raised an eyebrow. “You know, I have a thing for older men, especially redheads.”

Before Ray had a chance to reply, a large hand came down on Caldwell’s shoulder.

“Get lost, kid. This guy’s with me.”

Ray looked up. And up. The voice had come from a head the top of which had to be at least 6’5” from the floor. The head had black hair, brown eyes, and a pronounced five o’clock shadow.

The last time he’d seen it had been when the two had made out in the guy’s truck a while back.

“Spike! Good to see you, man! What’s it been, three months?”

Bernie wasted no time getting away, and Spike took over the stool he’d been sitting on.

“Yeah. Look, there’s a booth about to be available over there. Why don’t you go grab it? I’ll get a beer and come join you. Or were you waiting for someone?”

“Nope. I’ll go hold the booth.” As he walked through the crowd of customers, he felt his c**k begin to chub up. Spike seemed to have that effect on him. He slid into the booth and thought back to the last time he and Spike had been at Nellie’s. This evening might turn out much better than that one had.

After a brief wait, Spike showed up with a mug of draft and a double-sized order of onion rings.

“So, did you find a place to live?”

The only other time the two men had seen each other Spike had said he was staying with friends.

“Nope. I’m still living with my buddy and his wife.”

He didn’t volunteer further information, so Ray didn’t pursue the topic.

As they had done on the previous occasion, however, the two talked easily. This time Ray learned Spike had graduated from college in California with a degree in sociology but that he’d never actually worked in the field.

“I hadn’t figured out what I wanted to do when I grew up,” he said with a grin. “And I don’t think I know yet.”

It turned out he’d done all kinds of things in the past five years. He’d been assistant manager of a McDonald’s, a tutor at one of those places that, for a stiff fee, will tutor kids who aren’t doing well in school, a summer worker keeping the trails clear in a national park.

“Hell,” he’d said with his infectious smile, “I even shoveled s**t on a dude ranch for a while.”

“What are you doing in Colby?”

“I’m working for Brown, handling packages in their warehouse. For the moment.”

Spike changed the subject by asking Ray about his work. He remembered that Ray had been promoted to sergeant not long before their previous meeting and asked how the new rank and responsibilities were going.

They had another beer and kept on talking.

Ray thought he could feel heat radiating from Spike’s body, despite the fact that Nellie’s AC was blasting to mitigate the heat from all those bodies on what had turned out to be a warm night for May. As they chatted, he studied the other man. Spike wasn’t handsome, but his face was expressive and his eyes kept changing from amber to brown and back.

Although he’d never seen Spike with his clothes off, Ray was pretty sure the guy’s burly body would be well covered with dark hair. He was a bear. A really nice bear.

When Spike suggested a third beer, Ray said, “Like it or not, I’m a cop. I’m guessing you’re driving your truck tonight. And if that’s true, you shouldn’t be having more beer.”

Spike smiled. “Are you concerned about having to arrest me, sergeant? Or did you have something else in mind?”

“Well, this time I have a place we could go. My apartment’s a lot more comfortable than your truck. At least for some activities.”

“Why,” Spike said, doing his best Southern belle imitation, “I’d just love to see your new apartment!”

* * * *

The big guy turned out to be a gentle, caring lover. He seemed to derive great satisfaction from making his partner feel good. He slowly petted, stroked, kissed, and licked Ray, who reveled in the pampering.

“Honey, your skin is so pale and white it looks like marble,” he’d said. “But marble’s cold, and you’re soft and warm. Soft in a good way, that is. I can tell you work out.”

When, after what seemed like hours of delicious foreplay, Ray was on the verge of screaming, Spike took the lube from the bedside table and began to put it on his pucker.

“Grab some latex, baby, and suit up. I’ve never been f****d by the law before. Well,” he chuckled, “not literally.”

Ray paced himself, wanting to prolong the experience of being inside Spike for as long as possible. He loved looking down into the smiling face, the warm, brown eyes. He loved the way Spike could use his ass muscles to tease and stimulate Ray’s d**k.

When, much too soon, he released into the condom, he collapsed onto the big hairy chest and nuzzled into the fuzz there. Spike smelled faintly of cedar or pine or something evergreen. It was nice. He could easily have drifted off.

After he’d caught his breath, though, he asked, “It’s your turn. Which end of me do you want?” He was a little disappointed when Spike asked for his mouth. But he gave the big bear the best blow job he knew how to deliver. Spike’s moans and his constant caressing of Ray’s head made clear that he was happy.

Ray went to sleep happily, snuggled in Spike’s arms. When he woke up, he was lying with his back to his friend, and he could feel Spike’s morning hardness poking his butt.

He rolled over to find Spike awake.

“I’ll make us some breakfast, but would you f**k me first?” Ray asked.

“Yeah, I’ve already peed, so I’m rarin’ to go.”

“Well, let me pee. Don’t go ‘way.”

As he had been earlier, Spike was solicitous, worried that he’d hurt Ray with his big c**k, making sure that Ray was well stretched and ready to take him. He was so gentle that Ray had to beg him to do it faster and harder and deeper. Thus urged, Spike began to vary his position, being sure to hit Ray’s sweet spot often, speeding up and slowing down, driving him crazy.

They came almost simultaneously. That had never happened to Ray before. In fact, no one had ever f****d the c*m out of him before.

When Spike pulled out, he removed the condom, tied it off, and put it in the wastebasket near the night stand. Then they snuggled together and went back to sleep.

It wasn’t until about ten o’clock that they got up, showered, and dressed together.

After Ray had fixed breakfast and Spike was preparing to leave, he said, “Thanks, big guy. This has been a sweet time. Can we do it again soon?”

Spike kissed Ray’s forehead. “Sorry, buddy. I don’t think that will be possible. I’m leaving later in the week.”

Deeply disappointed, Ray asked, “But why?”

Spike smiled. “Don’t like working for Big Brown. Not much impressed with northwestern Ohio. I guess it’s time to move on.”

Ray wrote his cell number on a slip of paper and handed it to Spike. “I don’t have a landline yet. But I always have the cell with me except when I’m in the shower. Call me, huh?”

“I’m not very good about that kind of thing, baby. But you take care. Watch out for the bad guys.”

They hugged and kissed, and Spike was gone. Big guy, he said to himself, whatever it is you’re looking for, I sure hope you find it.

* * * *

That day the new apartment seemed empty. Ray didn’t feel like unpacking the last of the boxes. He turned on the TV, watched the Tigers play somebody for a while, and turned it off.

Later he couldn’t even remember who the opponent had been.