I woke up early. Sleeping in an unfamiliar bed does that to me. Memories of last night with Jack flooded my thoughts. I had wanted to fulfill a daddy fantasy, and I did, in a way. I thought I wanted a dominant, aggressive power top to put me in my place. What I found, however, was a sensitive, caring, and passionate man.
Sharing that moment last night with Jack on that tiny island, our naked bodies connecting with intense heat, was one of the most erotic experiences of my life. It's awoken feelings in me, feelings for Jack. That's when the guilt set in.
I was selfish. I pursued Jack, and he met my advances. Sure we chatted on Grindr two nights prior and last night he shared his tale of his first male love affair, but this is my best friend's father. Jack's been married, for over 30 years, to a woman whose kindness rivals that of my mother. This was all wrong. I felt dirty, deceitful.
I got out of bed, leaving the guest room. The house was quiet this early Sunday. I found the living room, with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the backyard and lake. Jack sat on the dock, his long legs stretched out before him. He balanced a cup of coffee on the arm of his chair, steam swirling in the cool morning air.
I couldn't see his face, but I could picture his features. Dark stubble over a strong chin and jawline, a bushy salt and pepper mustache that matched his close-cropped hair, and piercing blue eyes. His powerful features were such a contrast to his soft, sensitive interior.
I wanted to say goodbye, to maybe even be embraced in his strong arms that still carried the strength from his military days. The angel on my shoulder told me to let him go, to leave before this became dangerous for everyone. I was not about to be the reason Sara's parents split up, months before her wedding. Best friends don't do that.
So I left. I didn't say goodbye to Sara, or wait for her mother, Diane, to wake up and thank her for such gracious hospitality. I didn't have that final encounter with Jack I longed for. I gathered my things, got in my car, and drove away.
As the small lake town of Skaneateles disappeared from my rear view mirror, I couldn't help but feel like I was fleeing. Fleeing from my friend, fleeing from my mistakes, and fleeing from the most amazing man I've ever met. I think I left a piece of my heart there.
The half-hour drive back to my hotel in Syracuse was a somber one. I got to my room just after 6 am. I lay on the bed, my head heavy with regret. I tried to sleep more to rest before driving back to Philadelphia.
I dozed and dreamt of Jack. In one dream, he was taking me on another boat ride around the lake. In another, we lay on a beach at sunset, kissing in a tight embrace. In a nightmare, Sara and Diane walked in on the two of us, naked in bed together.
I jolted awake four hours later when the alarm rang sirens. The shame and embarrassment from that last vision lingered. I silenced the noise emanating from my phone and skimmed the missed messages from Sara. I also saw I had notifications from Grindr. I figured a distraction was due.
I opened the app to the usual mix of profiles and checked the messages. There was one from a profile I recognized, Jack's profile. His photo was the same, cropped at the neck, showing off his hairy, muscular chest. His taut stomach and thick arms. Such a tease. The only thing new was his proximity. Before he'd shown twenty miles away, but now, he was close, only a few hundred feet.
Jack: Devin, Sara told me where you were staying, I'm out front, can I come in and see you?
Me: I don't think that's a good idea, I don't want this to get any worse than it already is
Jack: Please, I need to clear the air
Jack: Devin, I just need to see you one more time before you leave
I was torn. I didn't want to betray the trust my friend had in me, or cause any damage to her family. My phone dinged again.
Jack: If you change your mind, I'll wait...
Maybe he wanted closure. Maybe that's what we both needed. I threw on some fresh clothes. Against my better judgment, I sent him my room number.
After five minutes of mindless pacing, there was a quiet rap on the door. I released the safety mechanism on the door and opened it for Jack. He stood hunched over, this powerful 6'4" man almost looking meek. He smiled weakly.
"Can I come in?" he asked. "Just for a few minutes."
I nodded and opened the door wider. He squeezed by me, smelling of coffee and aftershave. He sat on the end of the bed, and I joined him, sitting crossed-legged. I melted in his presence. He leaned in as if to kiss me, but I stopped him with a hand on his chest. I could feel his firm pectorals through his flannel shirt, but I resisted him.
"This was a bad idea-" I started, but he cut me off.
"I wanted to apologize," he said, the remorse plain across his face. He seemed pained and conflicted.
"I'm the one who should be apologizing," I said, fighting the urge to take his hand in mine. "I'm the one who came onto you. It's all my fault. We could've been caught."
"I know," he said. "And I'm sorry I led you on. I just got so caught up in the moment. I haven't been with another man, not since Anthony."
He was referring to his friend, his lover, from the Army back in the early 90s. Anthony had been killed while they were both deployed.
