Ric and I were together for four years.
We had our stints where we thought we loved each other based off the out-of-this-world sex, but our downfall boiled down to our 20 year difference in age (I was 38 and he was 58 when we broke up), causing our undoing as he always wanted to remind me to "act my age," or mention that he was the father of the group and knew more than me about life being he raised three daughters.
"You have some kids while living in this cold world, then you come back and see me, tell me about your experiences," he'd say whenever he lost an argument of substance.
There was this constant power struggle between us as it felt like there was always something to prove, and it all spun off one night during the summer of 2016 in Virginia Beach, as we both were with friends at an oceanfront bar, everyone twisted off whatever they'd been drinking when he and I just started talking. He flirted first, trying to convince me that "a young buck like myself couldn't hang in bed," and that same night the both of us splitting a room at a hotel down the street, and me trying to split him in half with his legs in the air. We'd meet again, and again, as this would pass off as an exclusive "relationship" for a time until four years would pass and we were laying in bed in a dark room, when he read out a sentence that changed things.
"I just can't do it anymore," were his exact words.
He did us both a favor, as the love we thought we had didn't meet the requirements of soul mates, but more so glorified fuck buddies. Hell, even the sex dwindled weeks, maybe months before as I knew I had a wandering eye, and he'd drop hints that he didn't mind a threesome from time to time. I didn't put up a fight that night as he literally climbed out of our bed and went into a guest room of the home I bought for us moments later, and lived for two years in that space until he could afford to get his own place.
"Gabriel, I close on my place in Alexandria in three weeks," he told me in November 2022, surprising me out of the blue one evening as I watched television while eating cheese and crackers.
I congratulated him as I was happy on one accord, but now knowing the reality of me being in this four bedroom house all by myself. Ric, a five foot eight, 250 lb. Cuban bottom, by advising me of his power move let me know that evening it was time for us to fully move on, but I couldn't help but think that his presence, albeit distant in a sense, was still welcomed in a weird way. Through our union we both were masculine, but he enjoyed the submissive role in every facet of a male on male relationship as he was the one who cooked, cleaned, and of course gave up that ass upon my request. I prided myself on throwing my weight around as the breadwinner, and he being one of many guys I'd been with who could take my six foot four, 260 lb. frame with the attached nine inch dick. After all that, the love plug didn't spark, as we didn't connect there like legit couples. In those two years he lived downstairs, we hadn't touched each other, but the faded memory resonated, and he still living in the house along with that thought gave me comfort. It was time I truly prepared for my new normal.
"Time I get my piece of the pie now," he told me as he broke down the reasons why he decided to buy, ranging from a big promotion at his job, to wanting to get some returns back now that he was getting older.
Not once did he mention the oddness of us living as platonic roommates, but it was obvious.
"Congratulations," I said before getting up to give him a hearty hug, and three weeks later, I was following him in a U-Haul to the storage facility so we could gather his things for the move.
"You know, we should've never gotten to this point," he said once we made it inside the storage compound, a tall building with five floors of units of people's personal belongings. "That night at Virginia Beach should've never happened."
I didn't say a word as he talked, as this was my reminder of why he and I could never work. Ric could be narcissistic when it wasn't necessary at times, and this was one of those times as we agreed to go our separate ways, and should've been cordial at this point. I gave him a look as we entered the elevator, letting Ric ramble when I realized he was semi right. Same time, it crossed my mind how I enjoyed the way he cooed when I tongued his flower, and how it puffed up after I banged and bred him, only for him to tell me an hour later he wanted more. In my head I lusted over the way he gave head, sometimes spontaneously as we could be sitting on the couch and he'd rub my crotch, or tug at my shorts, sliding his hand through the cuff to get me rock hard and suck me off.
"You can have the couch, but I'll take the rest of my things," he told me as we made it to the floor where our unit was, me daydreaming so much I hadn't realized we made it.
I stepped out first, with him behind me pulling a large cart. We went a few feet to where it seemed our unit was tucked in No Man's Land, out of the way of a camera, and just tucked in a desolate spot. I pulled out the key, turned the lock, and pulled up the door, as a light came on to illuminate the space. We went for the pieces of his king sized bed first, then grabbed his cookware and a few other boxed items to place on the cart. Once it was packed up, he continued to ramble on about what could've been, guiding the cart while I simply pushed it and kept my mouth closed.
"You know Gabriel, I truly hope you find someone as nice as me," he said once we made it to the bottom floor.
"Ric, open the fucking door to the truck," I said.
"Excuse me," he asked.
