or approve of me.”

His voice sounded distant and sad, like someone who desperately needed approval, and love. “I like you James. I like you a lot. And, why should I not approve of you?”

His silence was like a void. I sensed something terrible had happened with that question and the answer slowly formed in my mind but I had to know for sure.

“James?” I asked through the stillness, “What happened between you and your family? Why haven’t you ever been married?” But I knew, as sure as I knew the sun would rise in the morning. I knew why James had always been an mystery. I knew why nobody ever answered my questions about him and why he had been vague.

He sniffed and shifted nervously in the bed.

“Oh, fuck.” He moaned, his voice so full of grief and humiliation I thought he’d wither away. He was crying and I realized how heartless my questions had been. He thought I knew. Before we climbed into bed he thought I knew, and he just discovered I’d been ignorant all along. At that moment I hated myself.

“James, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” he asked sadly; bitterly. “Sorry to discover your friend is a queer, a fruit, a faggot?”

I reached out beneath the covers until I found his hand and grabbed it firmly. “No! Stop that. I’m sorry for asking you those things. I had no right.”

After more silence he finally spoke, quietly, fearfully, “I’m going to lose you aren’t I?”

My head felt filled with helium and my breath grew short. The pent up words of my affection poured out, “No James. You’re not going to lose me. Tell me I won’t lose you.”

His fingers slowly tightened around mine. “Oh Andy, you’re so much more than my friend. You’re my day and night.”

I felt giddy and my heart swelled with gladness. Nobody had ever talked to me like that.

“I love you Andy,” he said, his voice a whisper.

From somewhere deep beneath the armor of my trepidation I mustered the courage to reply, “I love you too James. The same way you love me.”

My face grew hot and my muscles tightened. I’d crossed a fearful line from which there was no retreat. The realization of what would happen next filled me with dread and nerve tingling anticipation.

He shifted his leg to rest alongside mine. I froze, not knowing what I was supposed to do. The rules of society and my own repressed past said I should extricate myself at once, but the beating of my heart and the growing muscle between my legs said to stay.

His leg slid over mine and he began lightly rubbing his hand over my chest. Gently his fingertips flicked over my nipple and an electric jolt ran through me. I breathed so hard I thought I’d hyperventilate and my cock stiffened demandingly. He pushed his hips forward and I felt an enormous shaft of heat press against me.

I wanted to respond. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to kiss him and feel his thick heavy cock in my hand and mouth. I wanted it all, yet I was so afraid.

He began slowly moving his hips against me. His hot heavy breath warmed the