Things changed.
In 1997, about six years after the start of the arrangement I had with John, his father died, not unexpected since the man smoked like a chimney in spite of the Surgeon General’s warnings. Shortly afterward, John met someone while teaching a night course in real estate at the same junior college where I’d eventually gotten my degree in computer accounting. He fell in love with the guy, decided to come out of the closet, and they moved in together.
“This will have to be our last time, Sweetcheeks.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, John. I’ve enjoyed our times together. Would you like to bring your friend around? I’ll do the two of you. A farewell gift.”
“You’d do that?” He had once confided a threesome was his favorite, most illicit fantasy, although none of the other boys had t
