Steve was one of the best looking young men I have ever met in my life. Long blond hair, lean muscular body, a basketball and baseball jock, pretty face, perpetually ruddy cheeks, and a dazzling smile. He was 17 when we met at camp. I don’t recall if he was in my cabin nor, if he wasn’t, how exactly we met. But then, everyone pretty much knew everyone at camp, even if you didn’t become friends. At any rate, Steve and I connected. I also connected with his younger brother, Ricky. Ricky was a somewhat troubled youth, probably a result of their parent’s divorce.
After camp, I met their dad, Loyal, and his wife Margie—isn’t that a great name, Loyal. They lived in San Gabriel, CA. Over time, I continued the connection with the boys and spent time with the family. Apparently, Ricky really looked up to and respected me. His dad and Margie approached me about moving in with them to be closer to Ricky and hopefully be a positive influence on him. After several discussions, I agreed. The fly in the ointment was that I would be sharing Steve’s room. Only one bed. I was both concerned and excited by the prospect. I wasn’t out at all, barely to myself. I couldn’t ignore the sexual attraction.
Life with the Ingersoll’s was pretty normal for the most part. I was working at the Old Spaghetti Factory in Hollywood. I was youth directing at two churches. I’d hang out with the family and the boys. Steve and I would sleep together. All well and good.
Until.
Maybe it was a night after ball practice or a game. How it started I don’t know, but Steve asked for a massage. We’d go to bed, in our underwear, chat about whatever, then he would roll over on his stomach and ask for a backrub. At first I was just beside him rubbing his back. Then rubbing his arms and legs, too, became part of the routine. Then it progressed to him turning over on his back and I would rub his chest and stomach. Steve had square pecs and flat, taught, six pack abs. His body was beautiful.
Naturally, I would get a hardon. I was never sure if he was responding the same way.
Until.
As things naturally do, the massages progressed in intimacy. When on his stomach, I would get between his legs for the back rub and leg massage, working my hands right up to his groin. Same thing when he was on his back. One time, while he was on his back, my hands went up to his groin and touched his balls—he wore boxers, so it’s not like I had to work too hard for that to happen. He didn’t move. Moving down his torso to his abs, the palm of my hand touched the top of his boxers. I felt his hardon pressing against the waistband. I might have even rested my hand on his dick, expecting some response. There was none, negative or positive. But he was always up for another massage.
It never progressed to me getting him off during a massage.
Until.
Ok, before I get to that…
As I said, life with the Ingersoll’s was pretty normal. I did spend time with Ricky. We even had matching fros, sort of, for awhile. He was trying, but I think his parent’s expectations were too high. He was just a kid trying to find his way, with a brother who was the perfect son, the golden boy. It was all good until I came home one time and my change jar was empty. A minor thing, really, but an invasion of my privacy. We confronted him and he denied it. Then confessed. The trust was broken.
They allowed me to get a dog—they already had a Bassett hound, Marge. I named mine Linc, in honor of Abraham Lincoln—Loyal’s birthday was the same as his. Linc was a Keeshond. Linda’s sister, Anna and husband Jim, were planning to breed their Keeshond and sell purebred puppies. Apparently, she had other ideas and escaped to find a mate of her choosing. Linc was the benefit for me of that union. I remember coming home one night, dealing with some crisis. I don’t remember what. Linc was waiting for me at the door. I sat on the kitchen floor in tears. Link sat on my lap and licked them away.
I was out on a date with Robin. We’d gone to see a double feature, Amityville Horror and Aliens. Yeah. Took everything I had to be a man that night. I took Robin home—she was a good kisser. It was late after a double feature. There was a long driveway beside the Ingersoll’s house. We parked four cars in the driveway. Since I was the last one in, I was at the back of the line. As I was walking between the cars to the side door into the kitchen, I thought, anyone…or anything, could be waiting for me between the cars—the movies, remember. Just as I was thinking this, something grabbed my leg. I don’t remember screaming, but my legs gave out. Steve stood up laughing. He knew what we’d gone to see and had been waiting to see my headlights pull into the driveway. He snuck out the door and waited between the cars.
I was a huge Styx fan. They were going to be in LA at the Forum, the Grand Illusions Tour. I got tickets for me, Steve, and Robin’s brother, Rodney. Robin and I may or may not have been dating at that time. The three of us drove to La with an ice chest of booze. We imbibed before and after the show, which, btw, was amazingly awesome. The show, I mean.
I remember the start of their show. House lights down. Music starts. The piano opening to Lady. A light comes up from a hole in the stage and a grand piano rises out of the depths. The crowd goes wild.
So, back to the last Until.
I wasn’t about to let Steve drive home, even though we’d taken his car. We dropped Rodney off. We got home. He wanted to go tell his parents we were home. The way he was wobbling, there was no way I was going to let that happen. I pushed him into our room, closed the door, and went to Loyal and Margie’s room and told them we were home safe and sound.
Steve was already in bed when I went to our room. I got undressed and got in bed. Out of habit, I guess, I started to give him a back rub. He turned over, so I went with the front rub. Supposedly, alcohol lowers your inhibitions. I know this to be true. Steve was hard in his boxers, naturally, his dick poking out of the fly. I don’t think I even thought about it before I went down on him. The only response from him was the moan and spasms when he came.
The next day we danced around what happened. I wasn’t sure if he remembered anything from the night before. He said something like, “All that alcohol, makes you do things you really want to do.” I responded, “I think alcohol lowers your inhibitions to do things you would never do otherwise.” That was it. Though I think he was right.
Life went on.
After Ricky’s theft of my money and the late-night blowjob with Steve, I decided it was time for me to move on. Linda offered to rent her guest room to me.
Another experience comes to mind, something that takes me back to an experience I had in high school.
Steve was dating a cute blond girl, Donna. The family, me, Donna, and Steve’s cousin, Kim, were going to the family cabin in the mountains for a weekend. Somewhere along the way, my car stalled out. Steve and his girlfriend and cousin were in the car. No such thing as cell phones, so we had to wait until Loyal and Margie realized something was wrong and came back to find us. We used katsup packages I had in the glovebox over snow for snacks. We were eventually rescued, and my car started.
The next day everyone had gone off somewhere except for Steve and Donna and me. I was upstairs in the loft, the boy’s room. Steve and Donna were in the room below, on the bed. I’d dozed off, but waking up I heard them being…affectionate. Maybe even intimate. It affected me very strongly, triggered something. And not in a positive way. Later that day, as soon as I could, I packed up my things and drove home. I have never figured out why them kanoodling affected me so strongly. Reminiscent of my experience with Sarah and Carlos in high school.
Steve came to visit me in Laguna Beach once. I think he might have known I was gay by then. We had lunch, walked on the beach, went back to my apartment. I needed a laydown before going to work, so I went to my room. I wondered, hoped even, that he would come join me. My feelings toward him were still strong. He didn’t join me. I never saw him again after that.
The here and now.
Steve lost all of his good looks. He’s now a rightwing conservative-Fox News devotee-Donald Trump acolyte. Discovering this more recently, I wonder if my relationship with him resulted in conflicts he could never resolve. I’ll never know
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