Terry

Terry wanted to know me.  He was using the library to find a job and another place to live since the friends putting him up drank.  As I was leaving one day I saw his arm waving and wasn’t sure he got my returning wave back.  He disappeared. 

He reappeared, having been visiting his stepdad in N Carolina.  We left the library together.  He was going for a coffee.  I asked him back for one.  I found out he’d been living in a menage a trois, him and the husband drawing a line at sex with each other.  Drunkenly over a dinner out he passed the keys back across the table, saying he preferred homelessness.  He was leaving me to have another dinner out and then scouting for a place in an Ealing hostel when I offered my floor should the hostel not work out.  It didn’t.  He stayed over last night. 

I persuaded him my bed would be more comfortable than the floor or the chair.  He could sleep on top of the duvet with shorts for modest night wear and a sexual security blanket over him while I slept beneath the duvet.  Further I assured him he was not sexually attractive.  Young heterosexual men need all the assurance they can get the men they think homosexual aren’t after their bodies as they self-flatteringly assume.  I think I reassured him.  I’m not used to sleeping with other people so wasn’t expecting to sleep much and didn’t but it wasn’t because of any sexual tension on my part.  

I made us breakfast and we met up again in the library where we became Facebook friends.  He wasn’t coming back for lunch but did drop in to ask would it be all right to stay overnight again and will be back at six for tea.

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About johnbrucecairns

I'm a retired history teacher who's written for most of his life with a book readied for publication.
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