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eyes open, to get trapped in soft, penetrating green. But he wasn’t ready for the reality of the morning so he very slowly and gently untangled his body from Ross’.
    Parker slid carefully from the bed and quietly pulled on a pair of sweatpants. He went into the kitchen and tried to make sense of everything that had happened the night before and the swirling, colliding contents of his mind as he made coffee. He stared through his bedroom door at the bed and the body sprawled impressively across it. The steady rise and fall and the occasional ripple of chest and stomach muscles was mesmerizing. Whatever last night was, it wasn’t a one night stand. Not for you, at least, Parker decided as he leaned against the counter and watched Ross.
    A frown pulled at Parker’s lips as he considered what he knew about Ross. He lived in Virginia Beach, he had no family other than his friends, he was well educated and intelligent and he did something in “defense”. Basically, almost nothing. Parker took a long sip and shook his head. He knew nothing about Ross except that he smelled like heaven and tasted perfect. Parker’s jaw twinged as he stared at the corner of Ross’ neck. He was so good, right there. And the way his body felt against Parker’s, on top of Parker’s, beneath Parker’s… He clenched his jaw, trying to force his body to relax and his cock to stop throbbing.
    Even after years with David, he had never felt so in tune, aroused and satisfied with another body or sex. It had never felt so real or meaningful. And Parker knew everything about David. Their relationship had been about so many things but it had never been about sex for Parker. For David, sex had been a vital way for him to display his fragile virility. Being twenty years older, David always felt a need to prove he was still potent, even when he wasn’t. He relied on viagra and poppers to perform and had to get stoned before Parker fucked him. Christ, Parker hated poppers. They reminded him of the cheap, poorly shot amateur videos David scoured the internet for. They made him feel like those young boys that looked so exploited as they hid their faces while older men huffed from tiny bottles as they grunted and rutted behind them. Parker didn’t mind the pot as much, it was something he shrugged off as being typical for David’s generation. Parker loved David because he was brilliant, charismatic and mercurial. He looked like the fit, older Sean Connery before he lost his hair and when David taught, he was inspiring and incandescent. Parker loved to sneak in and watch David lecture. He’d sit in the back, completely spellbound and moved. The man that kept people hanging on his every word was night and day compared to the leering, demanding man that needed poppers to get wound up or weed so he could “submit”.
    Parker never understood David’s preoccupation with sex roles. He was either dominating their interaction or submitting to Parker. It was never spontaneous or natural and it was all very performance focused. David wanted to be praised for his stamina and coordination, his flexibility and the complexity of the poses he chose. When Parker was up, David expected to be impressed. He wanted Parker to behave like a porn star and to be energetic and creative. In hindsight, it shouldn’t have surprised Parker that David would eventually want someone younger and more exciting to appease his vanity.
    Everything with Ross had been so visceral and natural, so easy. Ross claimed that he wasn’t very good because he was inexperienced. He had no idea what that did to Parker. Not that Ross wasn’t good. He was amazing. Everything felt so honest, so sincere when he did it. Every touch held an energetic curiosity that gave Parker chills. Ross moved with an innate athletic grace that was far more arousing than the practiced bouncing of hips or contrived postures and glances. There was an exuberance and fascination, almost a sense of awe that Ross approached