My New Friend Craig (complete)

***Note that this version of the story brings together all of the separate chapters into one continuous narrative.***

***

All in all, it was strange that Craig and I ever became friends. We hadn't been boyhood playmates, college buddies, neighbors or co-workers... any of the usual ways that guys meet and bond. Temperamentally, we were pretty much complete opposites. And really, our whole life trajectories had been different. But for all that, a random party brought us together and launched our improbable friendship.

And everything that followed.

But I've gotten ahead of myself. I'm Andy. I've got a decent build, with dirty blond hair that covers my head, chest and all the usual guy spots. I'd say I'm good looking, and haven't had a hard time attracting the ladies. Generally professional in look, but a T-shirt and jeans guy at heart. I'd also have to say I'm more of an introvert. That doesn't mean I'm shy, and I'm definitely not a full-blown loner; rather, I'm perfectly fine being left to my own devices. I'm happy to have my own place and live alone. I can be kind of quiet, particularly at first... but for all that, I'm known for warm friendliness, plus having a wildly offbeat sense of humor.

I had just turned 30, and was beginning a new phase of my life. I had started to finally settle down into respectability, but had taken a long way around. I was intensely curious about the world, and had both traveled and lived abroad for a time while I had figured out my life. Along the way I had had a number of wacky adventures--the kind that served as fodder for all kinds of bar stories. But at last I finished up a graduate degree and secured a job in the Midwest city I had grown up. I've had a long-standing, low-grade relationship with a girl named Carrie for some time. We had finally veered into "official relationship" territory a few months ago, and overall things were going great. I felt like I was coming into my own, on track to becoming a stable, secure adult in charge of my own destiny.

Of course, "destiny" can sometimes throw you a curveball.

It all began when my girlfriend and I were invited to a party thrown by an old college friend Laura and her husband. As was often the case, I was specifically put in charge of making margaritas for the evening--I had learned how to make the real Mexican cocktail at a favorite cantina in Mexico, which is nothing like the slushy foo-foo drinks served on this side of the border. They were real, and had a real bite to them, which made them particular, if notorious favorites among my circle of friends. I dutifully brought in the makings to lubricate the crowd.

I should say that Laura and I were like brother and sister, and at times we had laughed that there had never been anything between us. In truth, we had never had a chance, as neither of us had been single at the same time. And after many travel disasters from back in the day (seriously... do not go traveling with the two of us... ever), we were just two very good friends who had zero secrets from each other. I was happy when she married her husband Jack, and happier still when they welcomed their twins.

While Laura and I went back quite a ways, I actually didn't know many people there at the party that night; most of the party goers were friends of a much more recent vintage, along with several members of her husband Jack's crew. Craig was one of the later--a college buddy of Jake's who remained a good friend. He was there with his wife. Laura, seeing me kind of standing around, brought him over and introduced us.

Both Craig and his wife looked like they had come straight from Central Casting, but Craig was particularly good looking. The textbook definition of "masculine." And it was an easy, casual masculinity that was all the more interesting because it was... authentic. Most "hot guys" seem to be artificially toned, shaved, sculpted, oiled, and primped so extensively it's like they are the Photoshop version of themselves. Not Craig. His build came naturally from hard work, which was still evident even though he was fully dressed. His features, if not exactly chiseled, were strong and masculine without being hard. His scruffed jaw felt more "lived in," and less a fashion statement. His light brown hair somewhat softened his look, making him seem younger than the 30 or so I gathered him to be. His wife was a lucky girl.

Laura brought us together and exclaimed to me, "Andy! This is great. I want you to meet Craig. He and his wife Shannon are a couple of my best friends!" Craig and I shook hands. He had a firm grip that was electric with old-school, friendly masculinity. She turned to him, "Craig, this is the guy I always talk about... the one with all the disaster stories. Andy's life is... colorful. Oh! And Craig, make Andy tell you the stories about when he used to sell sex toys over the phone. Those stories are the

best

."

Craig looked at me with a look of utter astonishment. "You... you sold sex toys over the phone?"

I gave Laura a sidelong glance and said, "Yeah... and it's not a party unless someone asks me to retell those blessed stories. Sorry if you're weirded out in the first 10 seconds of meeting me."

Craig started laughing in big, gusting bursts before saying "Oh no, man... you are my

god

! Tell me everything!" The funny thing is that I've found most guys seem to have the same reaction that Craig did....

My girlfriend rolled her eyes at this and said, "Oh no. I've heard these stories all a hundred times. I'm going to mingle." She turned to Craig's wife and said, "Shall we leave the boys to their fun?"

Laughing, the ladies beat a hasty retreat.

I soon began regaling Craig with all my best-loved tales, including times I was on the phone when clients were actually using the products, attempting to troubleshoot remotely. Or the cringe-worthy attempts of clients trying to return items that didn't quite serve their intended purpose. And of course, the time I found myself counseling a caller on how to correctly douche his blow-up doll. Craig roared with gales of laughter, at one point doubled over and in tears, and all the while clutching my shoulder companionly as if we were very old friends and not brand-new acquaintances.

At one point, with eyes sparkling he declared in resplendent faux-formality, "Sir, I salute you. In any other circumstances, your drinks would be on me!"

I laughed with him, and gave an exaggerated bow. "I live to serve, my liege. The fact is, I'm essentially the bartender for the evening, so allow me to do the honors." I poured off one of my famed margaritas and handed it to him. We clicked cups, and with a good-natured "Cheers!" took a drink.

"Holy shit," Craig immediately blurted out. "Did you make this? This is the best fucking margarita I've ever had. Excuse my French."

"No offense taken," I said as I bowed again. "Yeah, like my sex toy stories, this is another one of my most requested party tricks. I make them the real way... so tread carefully. It's essentially tequila, Cointreau and a splash of fresh-squeezed lime to tie them together. No mixers, no fillers, pretty much just booze. I learned it when I was in Mexico."

Craig's ears perked up when I said this and urged me to say more. It turns out he was fascinated about my travel stories, admitting that he had never left the country, and barely left the state. While I was out there finding myself and later running through the grad school treadmill, Craig's life had followed a very different track. He had worked a variety of construction jobs, before working in landscaping. After he and his wife had twin girls, he had tried to find something more "respectable" and moved into real estate, where he was working now. But he lived his life with gusto, collecting an impressive collection of stories himself.

We fell into an easy rapport. As introverted as I may have been, Craig was explosively extroverted, who just radiated a sense of good will and hospitality, even if it wasn't his party. We just... connected, as if there was no one else in the room. I think we both appreciated having a conversation where we both saw each other as our best selves. He envied my wandering, I envied his security.

And as we talked--and talked, and talked, and talked--I realized that he had fallen into a perfect career to match his personality. He must have made a formidable salesman... I swear that silver-tongued devil could have sweet talked his way into a seat on Air Force One. And he could listen. I found myself opening up about things I would never usually share, especially with a guy I had just met.

In the end, we ended up having one of the most animated, most enjoyable conversations I had had in years.

Eventually we broke apart as the party swirled around us, and I was asked to make more drinks and refill folk's glasses. But somehow, we kept running into each other and falling back into our conversation. Inwardly I was quite pleased... it's hard for adult men to make new friends at the best of times, but as an introvert I found it particularly challenging. Craig felt... comfortable, and I was enjoying myself immensely.

I gather that Craig thought the same. I was surprised a few days later to get a message from him--apparently he got my contact info from Laura and Jake. I was tickled he had gone to the trouble. He had remembered that I was still newish in town and building up my social circle. He was hosting a group of guys for poker night... any interest in joining them? I carefully waited an appropriate amount of time to respond so I wouldn't come off as way too desperate for human company, but absolutely agreed to join him for a poker game he was hosting.

The game went well, and I was pleased both that I didn't lose my shirt, and that I didn't make a killing. The guys were a bit rough around the edges and gave me a bit of grief about being "bookish," but it was all in good fun and I was able to hold my own nicely. Craig himself... well, it was almost like I had my own hype man. Overall, it was a great night, and I snagged additional invitations and joined them again.

Craig and I stayed in touch pretty regularly after that, and I found myself... huh, it's strange, but I don't know quite how to put it. I really warmed to his friendship. In fact found myself really looking forward to his messages, and maybe surprised myself at how fast I responded to them. Outside my girlfriend, he became the person whose opinion I most cared about. He lived on the other side of town, and with two toddler girls didn't have much time to meet, but we stayed in regular communication... and I looked forward to having a chance to hang out again in person.

And one day, such a chance presented itself. Craig called me at work and noted that he would be in my neck of the woods that evening showing a commercial property. He had no great desire to try and make it back home through rush hour traffic, so maybe we could grab a beer after work? I responded with what I hoped was breezy casualness, even though for some reason I think my pulse quickened. I'd be happy to!

Inwardly, however, I was cringing... this was broadly a terrible night to get together, as I was in the middle of a nasty project at work and it was distinctly possible I would have to put in some extra time. But I wanted to make this work. So I countered with a slightly later time than he proposed. I also noted that one of my favorite neighborhood watering holes was just a couple of blocks from my apartment. Parking was crazy, and he'd be better off parking in a guest spot at my apartment, and we would walk over on foot. He thought that sounded great.

I was, sadly, dead right about how my project was going, and realized I was running late. I was able to call him and stall, telling him I'd be about 15 minutes late. He agreed to hold tight.

Even so, I was later than that when I finally arrived. And even then I wasn't done. After abjectly apologizing for my tardiness, I asked, "Say... this sucks, but I'm going to have to review and send back one last thing. Do you mind if we go up to my apartment? I can log on and hopefully take care of it in like 5-10 minutes. I'll happily let you sample some of my special, premium rum I brought back from the Caribbean to get you started... I usually don't pull that out unless you're getting married or you lose a family member!"

Craig chuckled good-naturedly. "Sounds good, take your time."

We went up and I ceremoniously poured him a drink. He gave it a chef's kiss and remarked, "Man... this is the good stuff!" I laughed and warned him against drinking the whole bottle while my back was turned. I quickly fired up my computer and took care of business, which took a bit longer than I hoped, but finally was done.

I wandered back to him and said, "I'm so sorry... this has just been a shit show. But I'm done. We could still head out... or I'm happy to pour you another and we could hang out here."

Craig smiled warmly and responded, "No problem whatsoever, I know this was last minute and all. Hey, I mean... I'm happy here if you just want to kick back. I think you need some help with that rum. And whatever else you've got stockpiled." I laughed, and grabbed a glass, filled us both up and suggested we plop down on the couch.

Once again, the conversation flowed effortlessly and seamlessly between us, covering a huge range of topics. It was always so... easy with him. We commiserated, busted each other's balls, dreamed out loud, and solved several of the world's problems... all with the help of my best booze.

As it often goes, put a couple of guys together, and somehow the topic of sex comes up. Mostly, the unending lament that we're not getting enough of it. We bantered back and forth for some time, before Craig offered up, "Yeah, well enjoy your time now. Once you walk down the aisle, you'll never get a blowjob again. I think it's part of the Official Wife Contract."

I ribbed him just a little. "You can't tell me that a great looking guy like you isn't getting anything like that... I mean, is she nuts?"

"Andy my man, I am lucky to get 10 minutes of missionary once in a blue moon. She always has a headache, always is too tired, always has to take care of the kids. I talked her into a blowjob for Valentine's Day, and it was waaaaaaaay too much work for too small a reward. I mean, when we actually do it, she likes it and its great and we feel so much closer. We have this fantastic moment. And then it's just like in "Bull Durham"... 'moment's over.'"

I commiserated. "Yeah, I know. I mean, Carrie is a great girl. And sex with her is great. But It's nowhere near as often as I'd like it. And sometimes I feel like if I wasn't initiating, it wouldn't happen at all."

"Damn, Andy, that sucks. And here I though my good looking, unmarried friend was going to let me live vicariously through his sexcapades! If you're striking out, there's no hope for anyone. I guess I can see why guys buy those sex toys you used to sell."

I laughed. "Seriously... I guess it serves me right for having laughed at those poor jokers back in the day. Face it, guys just have a much higher desire for sex than women. We're perpetually screwed, and not in a good way. I guess the only other option to get what we need is to start screwing each other!"

We both chuckled a bit at that, but the laughter slowly subsided, oddly enough, into thoughtfulness. And then... into thoughtful silence. I had been looking away, but as silence crept into the conversation, I glanced back at Craig. He was staring at me with... an expression I couldn't read. We both looked down. I took a healthy swig of my drink. After a second I slowly looked back up again, and saw he was doing the same.

Craig gave a low chuckle... it might have been nerves. But I had the distinct feeling there was something on his mind. After a moment, he tentatively floated, "So... I mean... have you ever...

you know

, with a guy?"

"NO!" I jumped in, before he even finished. "I mean, no. Never have. No." After a pause, I looked over at him with a raised eyebrow, and saw he wordlessly shook his head. We both stared ahead in silence. It was awkward... but the idea, once mentioned, still hung in the air. I hesitantly put it into words. "I guess the real question is... would you? Have you ever thought about doing something with a guy?"

Craig took in a slow draw of breath, and finally said, "Well, no sense in dancing around it. I think every guy has." He raised his eyes and looked at me. I held his gaze for a second before I gave a nod with an embarrassed half-smile, which he returned. "I thought as much. So 'fess up. What would it take to get you to cross over to the 'dark side'?"

I chuckled, took a long sip of my drink, and leaned back. Holy shit. How did we end up here? "Well, why not? I'm buzzed as it is, and we're just thinking out loud here. Ok. So... for starters, he'd have to be someone I trust. Someone I'm completely comfortable with... a friend. I'd be way too weirded out to do anything with a stranger. And I'd have to feel a connection to him, you know? Otherwise, I'm not sure it would work... mechanically." Craig gave a half-smile of his own, but let me go on. "But that's part of the problem, you know? I could never in a million years

ask

another guy, and certainly not a friend. I mean, unless you were damn sure he'd say 'yes,' there's a good chance you would torpedo the friendship... and likely get your ass kicked. I don't know about your friends, but I can't think of any of mine that would be game for anything."

There was a looong pause as we both contemplated my little monologue, and neither of us was looking at the other.

"I'd be game," Craig murmured, almost inaudibly. So inaudibly, I wasn't even sure he said it.

He looked up at me and we locked eyes. His eyes more than anything else told me he had indeed said exactly what I thought he had.

Shit.

Holy

shit. I said nothing, but damn if my pulse didn't pick up a bit. I couldn't... there was no way... what? After a very long pause, I quietly ventured, "You... you'd be up for that?"

"Yeah," he nodded. We stared at each other, and I imagine my expression was just as intense as his. Was this even happening? Shit. Holy holy shit.

My mind had been blasted empty. I had no rational thought to hang on. No thought at all. Finally I blurted out, "What would you... we... do?" Wait, what? What did I just say?

Craig responded, in a voice that he was trying to keep level, but was rippling with adrenaline--or maybe testosterone: "Give each other what we're not getting at home." I... was thunderstruck. Unable to form words. He went on. "Neither of us is getting blown... maybe we could help each other out with that."

I was getting a mighty peculiar feeling in my stomach. And if I'm being honest, it wasn't all jitters.

I sat back, looking ahead, and started running my hand over my mouth and jaw. I mean, minutes ago I was being 100% truthful... I was wishing for a lot more sex in my life than my girl was ever going to give me. And consciously or not, when I explained who I'd ever do anything with, I described Craig to a T. I was both excited and interested... but, holy shit what was I thinking?! This was fucking insane. Wrong. But the wrongness of it was part of what was so arousing. Taboo. Dangerous. Forbidden. Shit. And worse (or better...?), I was starting to feel it in my groin. The tingling in my stomach had moved to my balls, and my dick was starting to thicken. What the fuck was that?

"Cards on the table," Craig said finally. "I'm up for it. I've thought about doing it, and... I've thought about... doing it with you. I mean, we've become fast friends, but... I've felt a... connection with you. I mean... maybe?"

...oh... God...

And something... happened. To me. Inside me.