Every Weekend, by Shannon Pearce
Anderson and his lover have been meeting every weekend for as long as the two of them can remember. During the week, each of them lives with a significant other in what they refer to as the real world, a world which seemed to have chosen them, or perhaps they did choose these real world lives long ago, not knowing the reality of their choosing. During the week, Anderson and his lover each play the part which is expected of him, but the weekends are theirs and theirs alone. Every weekend, their time together is fleeting, and the promise of a life together is, as of yet, unspoken.
The special knock on the door made Anderson’s heart skip a beat in the anticipation of seeing his lover who was waiting with equal anticipation on the other side of the closed door. Anderson opened the door to his lover, as he did every Saturday night, to find him waiting for him. Anderson motioned for his lover to come in, and then he quickly shut the door behind him. Sebastian threw his arms around Anderson. “The champagne is chilling,” Anderson whispered. He kissed Sebastian, and Sebastian unbuttoned the top two buttons of Anderson’s shirt. Sebastian kissed Anderson’s neck and he then kissed downward to Anderson’s chest where the hair became a thick mass of black curls. Sebastian looked up at Anderson’s face. “Champagne?” “Yes,” Anderson whispered again.
The two lovers walked hand in hand to where the champagne was chilling on a well prepared table next to a small bowel of strawberries. Anderson picked up a strawberry and fed it to his lover. Sebastian licked the tip of the strawberry and then very sensuously sucked the strawberry into his mouth, kissing the fingers of his lover when they met his lips. Sebastian then offered a strawberry to his lover, which was taken by his lover’s tongue and eased gently into the warmth of his lover’s mouth. Anderson kissed the lips of his lover. He then picked up the bottle of champagne, and gave the bowel of strawberries to his lover.
Anderson was in a deep sleep when the pounding finally woke him. He sat up in bed. I thought that pounding was in my head, he said to himself. Anderson pulled on his pajama bottoms and shuffled to the door. He opened it as far as the chain latch would allow. “Sebastian,” he said, and quickly opened the door. “Am I still welcome anytime?” “That is what I said, and that is most assuredly what I meant. Make yourself at home. I just need to get a shirt.” “Mmm, I think you look fine,” Sebastian told him, and patted Anderson’s butt. Anderson laughed, and hurried to get a shirt. “What time is it?” Anderson asked. “It is three in the morning. I hope that it is okay that I have come here at this hour.”
Anderson made himself comfortable on the sofa on Sebastian’s lap. He pushed Sebastian’s hair back and kissed his forehead. “Of course it is. But why did you come here? What will Masur say?” “I will not be going back to Masur, Anderson. I cannot continue to play his game. He is cheating on me, Anderson. I don’t know where he goes on the weekends or who he is with, but I hate it, the secrecy and the lies.” Anderson leaned in and kissed Sebastian on his lips.
It was now five in the morning on Saturday, and once again Anderson’s hope of having Sebastian all to himself was high, perhaps higher this week than in weeks past because of his own newfound freedom as well as Sebastian’s latest declaration. In weeks past, Sebastian had made no mention of leaving Masur for good, but tonight he had not only mentioned leaving Masur, tonight he had stated his intention with great surety. Twirling the buttons on Sebastian’s shirt, Anderson asked, “Where did Masur say that he was going this weekend?” Sebastian kissed Anderson on the top of his head. “He said the same thing that he says every week. He told me that he was visiting his mother and sister in Connecticut.” “And you know this to be a lie?” “Yes, Anderson, I do. I found something last week in his luggage.” “What did you find?”
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