If the week after Brian had left Pittsburgh had been the worst of my life, then the week I spent with him in Manhattan was without a doubt the best. The most accurate way of describing it would be in two words: Fuck Fest.

Brian and I spent a glorious weekend together at his loft fucking, napping, fucking, eating, fucking, napping... and fucking again. He only put on clothes to answer the door for food deliveries, otherwise we were always naked and usually in bed. We occasionally talked between fucking, napping, and eating, and I told him about everything that had been happening in my life since he had left.

He wasn't exactly happy when I revealed how I had broken down and told my parents about our relationship.

"I don't know what happened. They were sitting there practically demanding to know why I want to go to NYU, and I cracked under the pressure."

"Why do you want to go to NYU?" Brian asked, although he knew it was so I could be close to him.

In lieu of an actual answer, I gave him a kiss. "Don't worry, though. The cops can't do anything and Dr. Perkins won't do anything, to save the reputation of the school and himself. We're safe. As ‘punishment,' I'm not allowed to go to prom or the graduation ceremony, but I don't care about those. Mom seems to be a little bit disturbed by the fact that her sweet baby boy fucked a teacher, but she doesn't hold it against me. She's seen you, so she understands. My father on the other hand... I already knew that he was a homophobic prick, and he'll never approve of my lifestyle."

"Fuck ‘im," Brian said. "You owe it to yourself to live your life as you want to live it, and to be happy despite what he wants and how he feels. If I ended up doing what my old man wanted me to do, I'd be fucking miserable. Hell, I probably would have killed myself by now. I always say that the best revenge is to live your life to the absolute fullest and become a big, fat, fucking success. Homophobic assholes hate successful queers. You'll feel even more successful if you're able to make something out of your life without his help."

I raised my eyebrows. "Well, I'm going to need someone's help, because I have no money for college. My only hope now is to work and wait to go to school until I'm twenty-four, which is the earliest that I could apply for financial aid without my parents. I'm not going to let my mom go into debt to send me to college, and I'll never make enough money to pay for it on my own."

"Luckily my parents were fucking broke and my old man was a veteran, so I was able to go to school for free," he said as he wrapped his arms around me. "It would be a tragedy if someone as brilliant as you wasn't able to go to college until your mid-twenties. We only get dumber as we get older."

I snuggled closer to him. "Maybe I'll win the lottery... or find a sugar daddy who will pay my tuition."

That particular conversation ended when our next round of fucking began.

We went to a dance club in Chelsea on that Sunday night. Despite it being a "school night," the place was packed. It was a lot like Babylon, just... more. Bigger, louder, and even more sweaty men. I was worried that Brian would drop me for the first hot guy that gave him the eye, but he never left my side. He literally couldn't keep his hands off of me the entire time we were there, as if he didn't want anyone to think for even a second that I was available. We danced, drank, and fucked in the backroom. That was the first time Brian had topped me in public, and I loved it. We even had a little audience that seemed to enjoy watching our performance.

Brian had to go into work every day that week, since he was still a new employee and hadn't earned any vacation time yet. I spent most of my time alone at his loft sleeping (more accurately, recovering from all of the fucking we were doing), watching TV, or playing on his computer. I also read Brian's copy of Babbitt by Sinclair Lewis, which I had never heard of before but really enjoyed. I ventured outside a few times to go to Central Park, the Public Library, and to the store to stock up on actual groceries so I could cook some simple meals for us.

He normally stopped by the gym after work each day before coming home, but he picked me up on that Wednesday so I could come with him that evening as his guest. I had gotten used to working out five days a week, and jogging on his treadmill at the loft was not enough. Brian said that he could not find a gym anywhere in the city that specifically catered to gay people, unlike the gym back home on Liberty Avenue. The one he joined in Chelsea was very nice and, according to him, was frequented by a lot of gay men.

We spotted each other during our workout, though of course he lifted much heavier weights than I did. I had never seen Brian lift weights before, and damn was he sexy as he sweated and grunted through his sets. After we were done, we showered together in a private stall, and I couldn't help but drop to my knees and suck him off. He returned the favor before we left.

I spent the afternoon of my last full day in Manhattan taking a tour of NYU. I had gone once before during the previous October when my parents and I were exploring all of the colleges I had applied to, but I wanted to go and see the college by myself. Walking around the beautiful campus made me want to go even more, and I knew I was only torturing myself by going on the tour in the first place.

Brian came home shortly after I had returned to the loft from the college. He could tell I was bummed over something and when I told him why, he fucked me over the back of the couch to make me feel better, sweetheart that he was.  

Once we were finished, Brian told me to put on something nice so we could go out for dinner. I put on the red sweater and gray slacks I had worn on Christmas Eve. We hadn't gone out to eat at all that entire week, so I was taken by surprise. I asked him where we were going, but he told me I would find out when we got there.

We took a cab to Pier 40 on the Hudson River, where we soon began to board a large yacht.

"I hope you don't get seasick," Brian said as we walked up the ramp to get on the yacht.

"I've been on three cruises and my dad owns a small sailboat."

Brian scoffed in disgust. "Rich people..."

I discovered that the yacht offered dinner cruises* around the harbor. We were shown to a table on the upper deck right before the yacht was untied from the dock and our cruise began.

"This is so fancy," I said as I looked at the menu. "I didn't think you'd be into this sort of thing."

"One of the guys at work recommended it."

I smiled. "I think this is the first real date you've ever taken me on."

"Don't tell anyone," Brian said sternly. "You'll ruin my image."

We shared an appetizer of crab cakes before being served our entrees. I had ordered filet mignon with mashed potatoes and Brian had salmon with fingerling potatoes. We shared bites of each other's meal, unable to decide which was better. We finished off with dessert, which Brian actually consumed in its entirety. He ordered a piece of angel food cake with raspberries while I had a decadent piece of chocolate mousse cake. He declined a bite of my chocolate cake, so I didn't eat any of his angel food cake.

Once dinner was finished, we got up and slowly walked around the yacht. The Manhattan skyline was of course incredible to look at from the water, and the yacht took us by the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, and finally the Brooklyn Bridge before turning around to return to the West Village on the other side of the city.

We stopped by the dance floor at the back of the yacht where there were several couples dancing. We spent a little time standing by the railing, alternating between watching the dancers and the sights around us.

"Save the Last Dance for Me" by the Drifters** began to play over the speaker system.

"Oh, I love this song," I said out loud to no one in particular.

The next thing I knew, Brian grabbed my hand and walked me out to an open spot on the dance floor. I didn't know that Brian knew how to ballroom dance, but I quickly discovered that he did when he started leading me to the beautiful song. Mom had made me take dance lessons at the country club as a kid, so I was able to keep up.

But don't forget who's taking you home and in his arms you're gonna be...

I was acutely aware that the other couples on the dance floor, who were all opposite-sex, were watching us. Whether it was in awe or contempt, I didn't know and really didn't care.

So darlin', save the last dance for me.

Brian spun me around, smiling down at me the entire time we moved to the music. I must have had a goofy smile on my face, since I could hardly believe what was happening. Brian Fucking Kinney, the former Stud of Liberty Avenue and formerly the sexiest, most handsome teacher at St. James Academy, was dancing with me on a luxurious yacht on the Hudson River to a ridiculously romantic song in front of a bunch of straight people.

Baby, don't you know I love you so? Can't you feel it when we touch? I will never, never let you go. I love you oh so much.

He pulled me closer to him, tilting his head down so our foreheads and noses touched. Some of the couples on the dance floor moved out of the way, mostly because they were too busy watching us to continue dancing. Brian then had plenty of room to spin me around several times.

But don't forget who's taking you home and in his arms you're gonna be...

Brian whispered "dip" to me, and I bent backwards while he dipped me. I giggled and wrapped my left leg around his waist while his strong arms supported me.

So darlin', save the last dance for me.

Once I was standing upright again, Brian lifted me off of my feet and kissed me. We continued to kiss as the chorus was repeated and the song came to a close. A few people clapped, and we both took it as our cue to part and give the crowd a bow.

An older lady came over to us. "You two are so cute."

"Thanks," Brian and I both said together.

We decided to politely move away from the dance floor so the other couples could get back to dancing without us distracting them. Up until then, we had been walking around the boat close together, but not holding hands or touching. After our dance though, we continued our walk hand-in-hand.

"Where did you learn how to dance like that?" I asked Brian.

"My mom taught me when I was a kid. She loved Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly movies, and she took dance lessons and wanted her kids to know how to dance, too. She actually grew up in an upper-class family quite like yours, so it was a shock when she ended up marrying a bum like my old man."

I could see that thinking about his parents was starting to upset him, so I changed the subject. "Thank you for bringing me on this cruise tonight, Brian. It was so awesome. The food was awesome, the sights were awesome, our dance was awesome..."

He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. "Just wait until we get back to the loft. I'll show you ‘awesome.'"

Indeed, he did. Once we were in bed and naked, he made me come twice before he even put his dick in my ass. I came two more times before passing out with a huge smile on my face, Brian spooning behind me.

The most magnificent week of my life finally had to come to an end the next morning. My return ticket to Pittsburgh was for ten o'clock, and I got up around eight to shower, pack, and have a some cereal before I needed to head to the bus station. Brian was pretty quiet as I moved throughout the loft picking up my things and getting ready to go.

I looked down at my watch and saw that it was 9:25. A cab would be coming to pick me up in five minutes.

Brian was sitting on the couch with the Times and a cup of coffee.

"Um... I should go outside to wait for my cab."

He nodded as he stared at his newspaper. "Yeah."

I stood there with my duffle bag on my shoulder waiting to see if he was going to say or do anything else. "Okay... I had a great time this week. Thanks for letting me stay with you."

Again, he just nodded and continued to look at the paper.

I sighed. "Well, I guess I'm going to go, then. Back to glorious Pittsburgh."

"Have a safe trip," he said. "Stay out of trouble."

I opened my mouth, but all I could do was exhale roughly. Before I could do something embarrassing like burst into tears, jump into his lap and beg him to beg me to stay, or say something foolish such as "I love you," I walked out the door without another word.

********

I had been back from Manhattan for two weeks when I came home from the gym on a Friday evening and found a Fedex package sitting on my bed. I was shocked to see that it was from Brian.

I opened it, not knowing what the hell it could be, and found what appeared to be a script of some sort. The top page read: Bound (Working Title) by Ace Morgan

Holy shit... it was Brian's new book. He had told me when I first got to his place that he was almost done with the first draft, and that must have been what he sent me. I wondered if he had even sent it to the publisher yet.

I eagerly flipped to the first page and spent the rest of the night reading. I saw that the book was written in first person point of view. I owned a copy of all four of Brian's previous books at that point, and each of them had been written in third person point of view. He said before that most of his favorite books were written in third person, so I found it odd that he would choose to write this book, the first one of his to be published by a major publishing house, in first person.

The story was told by a man named Bradley O'Keefe who worked as a pharmaceutical sales representative traveling throughout the northeastern United States. Bradley confessed to being quite promiscuous, rarely leaving a city without picking up at least one guy to take back to his hotel room for a night of fun. He was usually a top but got an "itch" once in awhile to bottom.

It became quite obvious that minus the career choice, Bradley was Brian down to his crooked front tooth, the right lateral incisor. I was not aware of Brian's "itch" however, since he had never let me top him and flat out turned me down the one time I gathered the guts to ask him, claiming that he never bottomed.

Bradley meets a man named Jason at a gay watering hole in Manhattan in the first chapter. The way that Bradley described Jason was exactly how anyone would describe me: young, blonde, blue eyed, pale, medium height and build, and adorable - your basic twink. Bradley was attracted to Jason immediately and only had to say a few words to get Jason in a cab. The hotel Bradley was staying at sounded a lot like the Library Hotel, down to the painting of Oscar Wilde over the writing desk.

The first sexual encounter between Bradley and Jason was quite lengthy and very, very hot. Their first round consisted of Bradley topping Jason after several minutes of foreplay, where Bradley gave Jason a rim job. Bradley spent two entire paragraphs just describing Jason's ass, how it looked and how it tasted. I had to put the book down for a few minutes to jerk off.

The next round of sex was even hotter than the first. Bradley was admiring Jason's perfect cock, admitting to the reader that he was a size queen, and asked Jason to top him. Jason said that he had only topped a few times before and preferred to bottom, but admitted that he would be a fool to turn down the gorgeous Bradley's request. Partway through, while Bradley was on his back and Jason was on top of him, Bradley grabbed one of Jason's hands and placed it on his throat. When Jason tried to pull his hand away, Bradley tightened his grip and forced Jason to choke him. Bradley came when he felt like he was about to pass out, remarking that it was probably the best orgasm he had ever had in his life.

When Jason was about to leave, Bradley apologized if he made Jason uncomfortable. Jason said it was okay, that he was aware that some people liked to be choked during sex but had never been with someone who did. Bradley confessed that he had never done anything like that before, but something just came over him in that moment. He gave Jason his business card, which Bradley tells the reader he never does with tricks, prompting Jason to give Bradley his card in return. Bradley sees on the card that Jason's last name is Tyler and that he is an independent website designer.

As the story progresses, Bradley cannot get Jason out of his head. He calls the sexy little blonde the next time he is in New York and the two meet up at Bradley's hotel room. Bradley topped Jason in another long, steamy sex scene. They laid in bed after and discovered that they shared a love of literature, especially erotic fiction. They commiserated over the fact that there was not a whole lot of gay erotic fiction available.

Bradley and Jason continued to meet up over the next few months, with Bradley introducing toys and BDSM tools into their sexcapades. At first Bradley used restraints and other fun things on Jason, but they eventually started switching off on who was the dominant and who was the submissive during their "scenes." Bradley eventually moved to Manhattan from his hometown of Boston, and the book ends with Bradley and Jason beginning a full-time D/s relationship with Bradley enjoying the role as the sub. It was a bit like the ending of Brian's third book Begging for It, but better since the man who started out the story as a rather dominant top ended up being the sub. Also, his characters in Bound had fallen completely in love with each other.

It was almost two o'clock in the morning by the time I finished reading Bound, and I was dog-tired. The book was absolutely fantastic, even better than his previous four. It was pretty long, and I hoped that the editor wouldn't have to remove anything for the sake of length.

Brian had grown as a writer and unlike in his other books, he really took the time to explore not only the physical side of his main characters' relationship, but also the emotional side. You could really feel how much Bradley loved Jason, and it was because of his love for him that Bradley was able to fully free himself and allow Jason to be his Dom. He trusted Jason to take care of his body and his heart. I wanted to believe that Brian's feelings for me had been the reason for that growth.

I was about to put the manuscript in my desk drawer and go to sleep before I noticed an envelope tucked in the back of the book. I pulled the letter from the envelope and saw that it was from New York University and had my name on it. The odd thing was that the mailing address was for Brian's loft.

The letter was from the director of the Department of English and began:

Dear Mr. Taylor,

Welcome to NYU! On behalf of the Department of English, I very much look forward to you joining us in the fall.

This letter contains information about registering for courses for your first semester, as well as some other helpful advice....

I read over the letter three times with my mouth wide open. I was completely baffled, since I had neither sent a letter of acceptance or denial to any of the schools that had accepted me, minus Dartmouth. The deadline of May 1 to contact schools was quickly approaching, and I knew I had to start drafting my letters to each school to let them know I would not be attending.

The way the letter from NYU read made it sound like I had not only let them know I would be attending in the fall but that I had already made a deposit on my tuition, which of course I did not.

"Brian," I whispered.