I am returning to my checkered history today. We are in the fall of 1979.
My summer job had gone well. I was in two musicals and a play that starred
one of my college professors. For
housing, I had been given a grungy room above a lawyer’s office and shared it
with a guy who went to my university, but who I barely knew. I was hoping I might be able to stay on at
the theatre, but they were not doing anything that suited my particular
talents. I went home and lived with my
parents for a few weeks.
Rob had also had a very busy summer—playing too many
big roles in quick succession and he was exhausted. While I had graduated, Rob, though older, had
not. (He had changed majors and lost a
tremendous number of credits. And he had
to work part time.)
He called me, once he figured out I must be home. He was now living on the upper floor of a
house in our college town. His roommates
were Theo and the guy who had lived with me that summer. I went to visit. It was good to see Rob again. After a quick 69 in his bedroom—we emerged. Theo was all smiles. They asked if I wanted to move in. I told them my big news. I’d just gotten a two-show gig at a dinner
theatre in west Michigan.
But I told them I would be happy to be here, if they
wanted me, once the second show closed right after Christmas. They all nodded and we went out to the bar…
*
I loved the dinner theatre. It was an old mill before it had been
converted to a restaurant and theatre. We
rehearsed on the third floor, lived on the second, performed on the main floor
and built sets in the basement. It was
everything I wanted—and they were doing good productions. Not dinner theatre schlock.
Rob came to see the shows. He was unhappy at the university and missed
me. He was thinking he might not bother
to graduate at all.
By January of 1980, my contract had ended and I needed
work. I went to see Rob. The housemates asked if I wanted to move
in. I did. I was settled, needing to bring next to
nothing but clothes, by the end of the week.
I needed a job.
Rob took me to where he worked. The
building was a gorgeous (and huge) Victorian house in the middle of town. It was now an educational research foundation
and they had just published a best-selling book. They needed a shipping clerk. Rob’s boss loved the arts (she’d come with
Rob to see me perform at the dinner theatre.) She loved me and adored Rob. She hired me on the spot and I spent my days
packaging and mailing books all over the world.
Rob was there when not in class.
It was a great test for our relationship. Being together for almost 24 hours a day
required some adjustment, but we loved it.
We were in our second year of being together—and still loved being
around each other. It worked. Really well.
The apartment was cramped—but with all those gay men
in it (the guy who lived with me earlier, finally came out) there was very
little drama. Rob and I had each
other. Theo was no longer seeing my
brother and was hanging around a gay guy I knew from our high school years. It all worked out just fine.
Things got even better when a woman who’d graduated
with me called and asked me to do a dinner theatre production. I could stay on at the office as the musical
only rehearsed at night. It was in metro
Detroit, so an easy trip. And the added
paycheck certainly helped.
By summer, Rob had decided he’d had enough of the
university. We parted again, both going
back to the summer theatres we’d performed at the year before. This year, I had a great featured role, but
was also asked to assistant direct. The
two men who ran the company liked what I did.
They asked me to direct the first show of the fall season there. And they needed another guy in the cast…and I
suggested Rob, who had just finished his less stressful summer stock season. They loved him, of course…
Everything was going really well. All this time, Rob and I were writing a
show. The dinner theatre in west Michigan
wanted to premiere it. After my first
directing job, we went back to the dinner theatre. Together now.
We worked with the director there to get our fledgling musical into shape.
Another show opened before ours went into production. We attended the opening. Rob was entranced by the look of a guy at a table
near us. He was tall, thin, and blond (Sound
familiar? That was me back then…) He
went over to chat. And again after the
show. Then they had a drink in the bar. I joined them for a bit before going to bed.
I woke up. Rob
was still not there. I went to the restroom
and pissed. I could here a bed creak. The current show had a very small cast—and no
one was living in the rooms next to the showers. I opened the door. Rob and the critic, both naked, were sprawled
on the single bed—and Rob was giving the guy head.
I shut the door and went back to bed. This hurt.
We’d been very upfront with each other about our occasional need for other
men. We had established our 100 mile rule
before I went to Texas. If we were working
that close to each other, we better be doing each other; if farther afield, then
we were both fine with finding relief as needed. I was 50 yards away…
Rob came in and apologized. Alcohol and someone cute.
I looked at him.
“It’s not that you were sucking somebody else. It’s the deception. Just tell me.”
He nodded.
“And I was right here.
Why would you not invite me to join?
I would love to have a threeway…”
“The guy suggested that just as you shut the door…”
We worked through it.
(And he worked on my cock for a long time that night…) It was a tiny hiccup—and in retrospect a good
thing, for we began talking more about what (and who) we wanted…
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