Mr. Brooks Locker Room Confession 2.3 | James
Men are strange. In my conversations with "straight men" -particularly ones that are in relationships with women, but somehow find their way to me - I make it a point to ask them. 'How would you feel about your partner having someone on the side?' Most admit to having a problem with it. But can justify our encounters.
This story may make more sense if you read the lead up to it. It's posted on my profile.
James hired me to work in the gym he was managing. I was fresh out of highschool and had fled to the city from my small town after being accused of... some gay shit - it's a long story. Anyway, I had been working for the gym for about two years at this point, and had recently started hooking up with my manager- James.
He's 6'3, solid muscle, almost competition shape. He wears these glasses that almost make him a bit nerdy...which I find kinda cute. In almost every respect, James is the boss. He's the guy that you turn to when you need a leader. It's innate.
Except he has a secret. A secret that I guess I started. He has a submissive side in bed. And he loves to be filled with dick.
It was a Saturday and I had just pulled up to James' house. We had fucked here before. When he revealed that he had actually had a crush on me for some time.
I'm still enamored by how prestine James' yard is. The grass, edged to a razor, was solid green with no brown patches or weeds.
I rang the doorbell and he answered right away. I always loved that. It was like he was waiting by the door, eager as a puppy to see me.
The inside of his place is straight out of some bachelor pad, GQ article. Everything has its place, and yet remains very masculine. I noted that James' office was very much the same way...nothing about his life on the surface was ever out of place.
James was different today. He seemed extra happy. He poured us some drinks ( I don't drink), and before I could protest, or sip and try and let the alcohol burn off in my mouth, he threw his drink back and swallowed the whole thing.
He sat there pursing his lips together for a moment before springing back to his feet and getting another drink.
"Are we nervous?" I asked.
"Nervous? No...no, not at all." He said. "We're celebrating."
"We are?"
"Yes!...I just hit a company EBITA record and my district is number two in earnings company wide."
"That's great!" I said.
He sat back down and grew, dark. "Yeah, that's great."
He became silent. We were sitting side by side on the couch as he stared into the bottom of his glass.
"I'm engaged." He said simply.
I swallowed hard. Something in me knew...Something told me that things between us were changing. I had convinced myself that I didn't have feelings for James, but the sinking feeling, and the lump that was swelling in my throat told me what my brain wouldn't.
I reached for my drink and swallowed it in a gulp.
"Congratulations man, that's great" I said.
"Yeah, I guess that is." His tone, deflated.
"What's wrong, don't you wanna marry her?" I asked.
He shook his head slowly. He looked at me for a long time...not as if to get a response from me. It's almost like I wasn't there. Like I was a painting.
"It's complicated now." He said. "You've ...It's not simple anymore."
When he speaks next he's not James' my boss, he's not even James, my sweet baby girl. He's smaller than that, and yet larger...I know it sounds weird.
"I've always done things, one way...the right way...I just..."
I know what this is about.
"What is it that you want?" I said, not really asking the question. He looked over at me and there's a weight on him that I hadn't noticed before. There was a desperate look in his eyes. As if he wants me to make the decision for him.
Then quite suddenly he jumps to his feet, as if he has somewhere he has to be. But he just stands there.
"I. Don't. Know...What. I. Want." His tone, measured.
"I'm not what you want dude." I supply "I can't make you happy...I mean we have fun together, sure. But then what? I can't do the things for you that she- I mean... You have a beautiful house, you're a star at work. You have a fiancé who loves you...you have a life that so many dream about, and you made that happen- "
"DID I?!" He screamed. I had never seen James like this. He was panting hard, beet red, and out of control. "Did I make it happen?" he began to pace rapidly around the room, I thought he may have a panic attack.
The whole time he was rambling about fanfair, and the locker rooms, and the protein shakes, and the long college hours and the 2 a day practices and the girls and being teased by the boys for his size so spending extra hours in the gym to put on mass and the macros and all the people telling him what a great job he's doing and what a great person he is.
He lunged at me so fast it freaked me out. His eyes were wide and scary. He was on top of me holding me around my collar. His voice was a seething whisper as he confessed...not really to me, I was just there...more to himself.
"I. Hate. Football." He said "I have always. Hated. Football."
It took a while for James to calm down. I had nothing to contribute, all I could do was listen.
"You know why I played football?" He asked, finally catching his breath. I shook my head nervously. "Because people who I was too afraid to let down...told me I should."
