Postcards From the Ledge (and Other Extraordinary Folk): Some Men Go Crazy (Story 2) ~ Part A

Ken Painter By Ken Painter, 27th Dec 2014 | Follow this author | RSS Feed | Short URL http://nut.bz/3cnjpjrv/
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>General Fiction

Join me in a stroll through an eclectic collection of short stories filled with gay and straight characters in the mid-Michigan communities of Lansing and East Lansing and surrounding areas as they laugh, love, and find their lives intertwined in inexplicable ways. (Some of the stories - not all - contain softcore male/male sex scenes, and some of the material contained has been previously published on Wikinut by this author and have been modified from its original form.)

Is It Only the Winter Blues?

(Author's Note: Certain parts of this 4-part story contain STRONG SEXUAL CONTENT between consenting adult males. If for any reason this offends you, I'd advise you to steer clear of this story.)


Jeff Abernathy carried the feeling around with him inwardly that his life was splitting apart at the seams. While it may very simply have been a nagging sense of dread which had been slowly building within or not he wasn’t exactly certain, but ever since he’d turned 40 just two months earlier in January, he’d really become cognizant of the problem. Jeff felt really certain about this after he’d graded those damned exams he’d given his 5th graders shortly before the end of the first semester and then after reviewing the sorry results, he’d spent a snowy weekend off and on wallowing in his self-pity writing a poem while his partner of almost 12 years Dr. Timothy Doolittle watched basketball games. It was one of those inside weekends pretty much because of the inclement weather which only heightened Jeff’s sense of doom and gloom. Tim kept warning Jeff about SAD (Seasonal Affected Disorder) otherwise known in the old days as “Cabin Fever,” but somehow Jeff wondered if it all was perhaps something deeper than that.

He’d returned to his classroom that following Monday morning at Marquette Elementary School to face his class with the dismal results, and as teachers all across the world so often do Jeff tried to put his best positive spin on the situation. And then he spent the rest of the week through Thursday re-teaching the very same concepts in and around the other work at hand before retesting on Friday. That Friday night’s marathon exam correcting session showed improvement. Not stellar results but certainly sufficient enough improvement so that he could begin grading report cards more confidently since they were due the following Monday morning and not feel embarrassment for his class or himself. Such is the teacher’s worst nightmare, that nagging feeling that I can’t teach . . . I’m losing my ability to communicate.

By late Saturday afternoon all of Jeff’s records had been completed and even though Jeff felt exhausted to a certain degree he recognized it as emotional rather than physical exhaustion, so it didn’t take much to talk Tim into going out to No Limits their favorite of the gay hangouts in the area and the one in which they’d met so many, many years earlier. Time for a little unwinding and dancing. Healing.

Even though Jeff and Tim were both graduates of Michigan State, it’s a vastly huge university and neither had ever run into each other on campus or throughout the area for the longest of times. Jeff being two years older than Tim had gone through his teacher education program to graduate earlier while Tim had graduated much later from the School of Osteopathic Medicine at MSU due to his longer and more involved curriculum. Jeff also happened to be a local too while Tim had come down to State from Saginaw, and so Tim hadn’t always been around the area during the summer to accidentally bump into. They both had had boyfriends prior to meeting each other, but each had been experiencing that dry period so to speak that single folks seem to go through from time to time when they just happened to run into each other quite literally in No Limits one warm spring evening almost 14 years earlier. And while the air outside was saturated with the smell of flowering dogwoods, crabapples, cherry blossoms, and other assorted blooming trees, love was in the air and theirs just sort of blossomed from there. They dated exclusively for a full two years though before finally moving in together going on 12 years ago this coming May, and they’d never looked back.

Boywatching with Results

Jeff had been reflecting somewhat uneasily back upon all that ensuing time period several weeks earlier when he’d first given a name to his complaint: the winter of my discontent though he’d never been that big a fan of old world literature nor had he given voice of this to Tim, it’s just that he’d heard or read it somewhere during his college education, and it seemed to fit what he felt he was going through at that particular moment. And as he ruminated upon his restless angst that late Saturday afternoon in mid-March just before St. Patrick’s Day, Jeff suddenly realized he wished that he hadn’t been so agreeable to letting Tim attend his doctor’s conference in Chicago that weekend. It was just one of those little boring conferences that happened two or three times a year that Tim really needed to attend to keep up on products and procedures. The really big ones that were several days long or were in more exotic locales Jeff would always go along if it could be arranged around his school schedule and most often they could, but these little ones if they were in Chicago, Grand Rapids, or Detroit, Tim would just drive over and that was the end of it. Their relationship had always been built on mutual trust.

It’s just that this weekend Jeff was feeling skittish. Before he left for Chicago late Friday afternoon, Tim had encouraged Jeff to get out at least once this weekend and live a little. “Don’t stay holed up in the house all weekend and mope,” he’d added before kissing Jeff and hopping into his car and driving off. Jeff just stood for a moment in the drive and waved briefly and then ran back into the house. It was dry but still blustery in March. After all it was Michigan.

And thus far he’d had plenty of homework to keep himself busy. He did a bit of it Friday evening. And then Jeff worked on household chores Saturday morning. After lunch he got back to the last of his schoolwork and finished it, so that after a quick dinner he found himself feeling simply bereft. Lost. And Tim’s words echoed, and so he thought, why not? Jeff hopped in his car and drove over to No Limits. A couple hours of listening to music and a couple of beers couldn’t hurt anything, could it?

Walking into the bright lights and cheerful camaraderie of the bar Jeff immediately noticed some kind of celebration going on. Oh wow! Wilson Biggerstaff and his boyfriend were in the house, or I guess he had just announced on national TV the night before that the guy was his fiance. That must be what this was all about . . . some kind of celebration, because they had just aired that taped interview last night on WUSS with Frank Buckland that Wil had promised a few weeks ago. Cool. This was going to be a fun evening to boywatch at least!

Jeff grabbed a mug of beer on tap from the bar and managed to locate one solitary empty chair in the rear, because the place was virtually full and the music was good. And the vibes were good too. During the next couple of hours he managed to engage a couple of guys at adjoining tables in simple conversation. As time wore on he had a few more refills, perhaps a few too many he realized when he made his third trip to the restroom to relieve his bladder and noticed how really light-headed he’d become. He didn’t think he’d begun to slur his words yet, but he noticed that walking to the restroom was a tad more difficult than he anticipated on that last go round. Better get a bottle of water from the bar on the return trip and settle down he thought as he unzipped and let the piss fly.

No sooner had he let loose with his stream than he heard the bathroom door open and shut again and another man stepped up to the urinal beside him, unzipped, and began fondling himself before letting loose with his own stream. Jeff glanced quickly over at the man’s face to observe smiling pearly white teeth and recognized the younger 30ish blond dude he’d just been chatting carelessly with only a few minutes before. And the dude was smiling appreciatively at Jeff’s dick while he pissed almost to the point of licking his lips. Jeff merely looked quickly back staring straight ahead at the bare bronze-colored wall in an effort to look nonchalant as he finished his own business.

Just as he was doing so however the younger dude said, “Would you like me to help you with that beautiful thing?”

“No thanks,” Jeff replied. “I’ve got it under control.” And he very quickly shook the last drops off and began to stuff his member back in his jeans.

The blond dude was finishing quickly now, not about to let his prey get away. “You’ve got a beauty, and I’d really like to suck on that. I don’t expect you to return the favor though. I’ll even swallow!”

“No thanks. My partner takes good care of me,” Jeff said abruptly turning to walk away to the sink to wash his hands rather than running quickly out of the door.

“Well, I don’t see him here with you tonight,” the blond dude rebutted.

“He’s out of town,” Jeff said. Damn! Why the hell did I tell him that? Fool!

“Well, there you go! We can go in that stall right there,” the blond dude pointed over to one of three empty stalls. There was nobody in the restroom at the moment but the two of them. “We can close and lock it,” the dude was sweet-talking now as he stared innocently into Jeff’s brown eyes, “and it’ll be over in less than ten minutes. I don’t even want to know your name.” Where had Jeff heard that line before?

Damn, it was getting hot in there. The blond dude put his hands on Jeff’s shoulders and softly but steadily started pushing him back into the stall and locked the door behind them. This much younger blond-haired dude sort of reminded Jeff of Tim in a way in that they both shared the same color hair and each had approximately the same shade of blue eyes. Tim was a bit taller than the dude and about a decade older he guessed, but otherwise this guy could have been Tim’s younger brother if he had one. And so the dude momentarily mesmerized Jeff by locking his eyes intently upon Jeff while massaging his dick and balls through his jeans trying to lengthen him back out a bit before initiating the unzipping ceremony. And that’s when the blond dude broke the spell with his lone mistake. He moved in for a kiss, but when he touched his lips to Jeff’s the faint taste of stale cigarettes immediately broke the trance. Neither Tim nor Jeff smoked though Jeff used to a long time ago but had given it up when he began dating the young doctor, and, of course, no smoking was allowed inside the bar, but obviously the dude had gone outside a time or two during the evening to alleviate his habit which would account for it on his breath. While Jeff had been envisioning Tim’s face he suddenly realized at last what he was about to do, and he shoved the dude back against the door, found the lock, threw it open and ran past Blondie! Jeff ran for the restroom door and once outside he walked very swiftly for the front door of No Limits and outside as if his very life depended on it and his heart probably did.

He had really planned to sober up a bit more before driving home, but fortunately there was a Mom & Pop Stop which was open 24 hours just two blocks away, and so Jeff stopped and bought two huge coffees and a leftover somewhat hard bear claw, and he sat in the parking lot until all were finished. By the time he got home and safely into his garage he needed to pee very badly again making it to his own bathroom just in the nick of time.

And it was only then after unloading his bladder yet again in the safety of his own bathroom that the gravity of what had just transpired or almost transpired or he had almost allowed to transpire at No Limits fully hit him, and he flopped down on their sofa and began to sob. What was happening to him? How could Tim trust him when he didn’t know if he could trust himself? Or was he simply making too much of this? Should he tell Tim about this or just let it go? God, what should he do? He’d never sleep that night!

Jeff looked at their large wall clock in the front room. It was only 9:15. Still early, and even earlier in Chicago, only 8:15 there. Tim was still up of course, wherever he was, so Jeff decided to call his cell.

Tim answered on the second ring. “Hey you, I tried to call you a little bit ago, but you must have been out.”

Jeff looked at his cell and noticed two missed calls from Tim. “Jesus, I’m sorry Dude! I was at No Limits and between the loud music and all the noise from the people in there I never heard it vibrating. I’m really sorry.”

Tim was laughing on his end. “You had it in the pocket of that baggy plaid flannel shirt you love so much didn’t ya, so you didn’t feel it vibrating either, I’ll bet!” Tim was beside himself with giggling.

Jeff just nodded his head. He loved Tim so much, as the tears started to leak down his cheeks. Tim read him like a book. “You got me. They had a really big party going on in there tonight too for Wilson Biggerstaff and his fiance after his televised interview last night on WUSS. Did you happen to catch it?”

“Yeah I did,” Tim responded, “and they’ve even been repeating bits and pieces of it again during the basketball game I’m watching now.”

“Where are you?”

“In my room.”

“I thought it sounded awfully quiet,” and Jeff broke down and began to cry on the last two words of that sentence. He just couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Oh my god, Babe, what’s the matter?”

Jeff told him. He told him what had happened, how it had happened, and how he’d been feeling these past couple of months.

“Babe, I’m leaving to come home, now.”

You don’t have to do that!”

“Look, the conference is basically over. There’s nothing more to discuss. There’s just the breakfast in the morning, and you know I can skip that, I’ve skipped it before. If I leave now I can be home, maybe one, one-thirty your time. No later than that. The weather’s good, and I’m not about to sleep after this conversation!”

“Tim, I love you so much!

“And I love you, too, Jeff. That’s why I’m leaving within the next half-hour.”

Jeff sighed a huge sigh. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

“For what. Loving me enough to call me and tell on yourself? That took guts! You didn’t do a damn thing wrong, and don’t you forget it mister! Now we’re wasting time. Let me get packed, and I’ll be hitting I-94 as soon as I can get checked outta here. Good thing is the traffic will be light this time of night.”

“Drive safely though, Tim”

“I will. Bye Luv.”

“Bye.”

The night was cool and clear, and the traffic was indeed light on both I-94 and I-96 on that Ides of March as the two lovers were soon rejoined together. When Tim walked in through their backdoor shortly after 1:00 that Sunday morning they said nothing, but strong was their embrace. Needy. And their lovemaking fulfilling. Satisfying. Only after they had slept for many hours entwined in one another’s gentle embrace did they finally speak full sentences. Very late on that Sunday morning. And only then did they realize that the fateful day prior had been the Ides of March. Beware the Ides of March. Oh well, no one had died. What they did not yet know was that they’d reached a huge turning point. Their life together was about to be discovered.

Happy Reunion with Decisions

They never did dress that Sunday but got out of bed in their fuzzy robes long enough to eat a bit of breakfast, and then after a long hot shower together that included each one washing the other and a lot of giggling and kissing it was back to their bed for another round of slow, deliberate, touching, and gentle but passionate lovemaking. And then Tim and Jeff just dwelled in the afterglow and talked like they hadn’t felt free to do in years.

“Why haven’t we ever made time like this for ourselves? What I mean is, Jeff, why haven’t we really taken it slow and easy? Taken the time to savor each other? My God, Jeff! We always rush through it! I think I’d actually forgotten what a gorgeous hunk you really are!”

Jeff responded by licking Tim’s left nipple and then suckling on it to which Tim responded with an “Ahhhhhhhh, don’t stop! Please, don’t stop! Oh my God that feels . . . so . . . good . . .”

Jeff continued for a moment more then moved his lips up to Tim’s and began kissing him hungrily, and after several moments he lifted off and snuggled into Tim’s chest hugging him warmly and said, “I hope that was a sufficient enough way to say thanks for that beautiful compliment.”

Tim kissed him back and then said, “Well, you are. And I sometimes think you forget how great you are.”

“Actually, deep down Tim I know you’re right,” Jeff replied. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking lately it may have a lot to do with turning 40. I know that probably sounds stupid. I didn’t want to dwell on it, but for a few months before my birthday it started weighing on my mind, and for some reason it still is. And then there’s school! God damn! Since No Child Left Behind everything has just gotten worse and worse. Sometimes I just feel like I’m drowning, Dude! Am I making any sense at all?”

“Yes you are, Luv,” Tim looked at Jeff with huge blue puppy dog eyes, and he brushed brown bangs gingerly out of his lover’s sweet, but sad brown eyes. He almost winced as he broached the subject with his lover, “Have you thought at all about talking with a professional maybe about going into some kind of therapy for awhile?”

Jeff sighed a huge sigh of relief. “Actually I have, and I was kind of hoping you could recommend someone.”

Tim looked deeply into his lover’s eyes. He’d never loved Jeff more than he did at that very moment in time. So fragile. So very aware of his own vulnerability. God, he was absolutely incredible. Tim vowed in his heart not to let him down. “I actually do know someone, and he seems to have good track record. His name’s Dr. Matt Dobson, and he’s a gay psychologist with an office in East Lansing. I think you’d like him, but you got to promise me one thing?”

“What’s that?”

“You can’t fall in love with him,” Tim said grinning from ear-to-ear. “He’s drop-dead-gorgeous!”

“Wow! Thanks,” Jeff responded laughing. “I’ll try to remember that. But I already live with a gay doctor who is drop-dead-gorgeous, and quite happily I might add, and this one pays me really nice compliments.” And on each of the last three words Jeff kept pulling Tim closer and closer and closer to him until their lips met in a warm, wet kiss.

After the kiss Jeff whispered more seriously in Tim’s ear, “Quite frankly, I thought you might want to send me to a psychiatrist rather than a psychologist.”

Tim leaned back against his pillow and confessed, “It’s an occupational hazard, Luv. Because I’m a doctor I tend to see the abuses. There are good psychiatrists, and I actually do know a few, but my problem with psychiatrists in general is that because they’re doctors they’re too quick to prescribe drugs as the quick and easy fix. It’s a problem I’m coming to think a lot of us doctors may have in common. Anyway, psychologists can prescribe drugs, however seeing that they’re Ph.D’s instead, in my experience I’ve found that they really try harder to question their way to their patient’s solution or lead you via their questioning rather. You get the idea. And call me bananas, but the older I get when I keep hearing good things about one professional or another in the gay community I really like to support the network. I’m really starting to believe that nobody understands us quite like us.”

“Mmm. I think I see. Give me the number. I’m going to see your psychologist.”


(End of Part A (of 4 parts) of "Some Men Go Crazy (Story 2)".)


Link to Part B of "Some Men Go Crazy (Story 2)" . . . Here

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Erotic Dance, Erotic Role-Play, Erotic Romance, Erotica, Gay Community, Gay Couples, Gay Experience, Gay Lesbian And Bisexual, Gay Love, Gay Marriage, Gay Marriage Rights, Gay Men, Gay Rights, Gays, Lgbt, Lgbt Community, Psychoanalysis, Psychological Problems, Psychology, Psychotherapy, Sex Appeal, Sex Life, Sexual Activity, Sexual Attraction, Sexual Behavior, Sexual Life, Sexuality, Short Fiction, Short Stories

Meet the author

author avatar Ken Painter
Retired Chicago public school teacher. Singer, songwriter, musician, author, & opinionated old curmudgeon. Married to my husband & living in Colorado, USA. Also a father & grandfather.

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