Mortimer and Myrtle A Love Story
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I was in my late twenties, and had a huge circle of friends, mostly male. Everyone was straight, many of the guys having girlfriends or wives. It was a social group too; lots of barbeques, parties and get-togethers; we'd basically use any excuse we could to be together. Sports were a big part of our group; everyone loved the 'Vikes'.
I cared about most of the people in our group and I truly enjoyed our time together. I was one of the quieter members of the gang though I wasn't shy. I dated often, liked sex, but rarely let a relationship develop. I guess I'm good looking, sometimes overhearing nice comments about my looks. I'm a fairly big guy, 6'2" and 195 pounds. I work out a lot, not for bulk, but to keep lean; high-reps, low-weight and lots of aerobics thrown in. I'm blonde with very bright blue eyes, 'classic Nordic stock' as my dad would say. I keep my hair cut short, close to my head.
Women seemed to want my company and I was always getting set up on dates. I took advantage of this, and my bed was almost never empty. There was a problem though, it wasn't a woman I wanted in my bed; it was a man. Whenever I had sex, I wouldn't be thinking of the woman I was sharing my body with, instead I'd be fantasizing about some man's cock in my mouth or in my ass.
Minneapolis does have a gay scene, but I could never bring myself to go to it. The stigma would just be too great if anyone found out. My friends would probably ostracize me, or at the very least make me their long-term joke. My parents would never, ever understand; they were 'old, old, old school'. I love them both; I mean I really love them. They've been great parents, my dad supporting me through my very athletic high school sports career, my mom always there with love, but they would never understand my need to be with a man.
As far as vocation, I worked for a fairly large financial services firm, having quickly advanced through the hierarchy, the youngest to ever hold my position. There was currently a rumor going around that a merger was going to take place. The rumor circulated for several weeks when it finally became true; we were to join forces with a similar firm from San Diego, California.
There was a caveat to the merger though; key personnel were to be exchanged between offices so as to better integrate. There were only three other people working in the same position as me but they were all married and settled into the 'Minneapolis life'; having homes, mortgages and k**s in school. It looked like I was the 'likely candidate'. Would I go to San Diego? It didn't take long to make a decision though, maybe thirty seconds; yes I'd go. I spent the next few weeks making sure everything was in order, not wanting to leave anything messy behind; my coworkers had always treated me well.
I drove my SUV to San Diego, taking a few days, stopping whenever I felt the need. Once I got there, I met with the local company's liaison; his name was Jean-Claude. He was of French extraction with dark hair and eyes. He'd been in the US since he was a teenager and had a very light accent, his English near perfect.
He explained that it was his job to help me find a home, settle in and to help me better know the whole San Diego scene. Jean-Claude drove me around San Diego, helping me explore potential places to live in. He'd often make comments concerning the various neighborhoods we visited; he was there to help me decide where to settle. At one point he said, "Now this neighborhood is considered 'gay'. I am not sure how you feel about that, but the homes are very nice, and the streets are clean and safe. I should know, I live nearby," he laughed.
"I hope you don't mind if I ask, but are you gay?" I said.
"Why of course! How can I not be this beautiful and not be gay," he said in an exaggerated French accent.
I laughed in response. I'd warmed to this Frenchman during our brief time together. "Would you like to see something here, or shall we go on?" he asked.
"I think this may be just right," I answered, surprising myself.
We looked at several homes in the neighborhood when I finally found what I was looking for; it was a beautiful town home. The current rent was very high, much more than anything I'd ever paid, but I'd received a massive relocation and 'semi-severance' bonus along with a salary increase as part of my agreement to transfer to the new firm.
"Will you take it?" he asked.
"Yes, when'll it be available?"
He discussed things with the agent and returned to me. "I've arranged for your move in three days. The unit will be freshly painted and re-carpeted prior to your moving in." He had also negotiated for a minor reduction in rent and even a reduced deposit.
"Amazing, you're incredibly efficient."
"It is what I do," he said. He then titled his head slightly to the side and continued, "Besides, I live only two blocks away and I think I may enjoy your company."
He drove me to my hotel, a fairly long drive. During that time we spoke of our respective homes, Minnesota and Bordeaux. The conversation then became more personal, slowly slipping into the sexual arena. He asked, "Do they have gay men in Minn-e-a-po-lis?"
I laughed, "Of course, its not the North Pole."
He continued, "And are you gay?"
My expression dropped, I wasn't sure how to really answer that one. He noticed and said, "No, no, no, I have stepped outside of decorum."
"No, its OK, it's a question I often ask myself."
"Well, I 'am' gay!" he proudly said. "And I am tested often for everything!" he actually winked at me.
Rather than answer his question about my being gay, I said, "Would you show me the nightlife of 'our' neighborhood this evening,"
"But of course," he answered, again slipping into that exaggerated French accent. "I shall pick you up at nine sharp."
He dropped me off at my hotel. I went to my room and lie on the bed, hands behind my head, deep in thought. Here's my chance to finally be who I really am. Yes, I'd pursue this new life.
Nine o'clock rolled around as I waited in front of the hotel for Jean-Claude. The San Diego evening air was splendid. Jean-Claude pulled up in his black Cadillac STS, a very cool car. He was dressed in charcoal slacks, and a fine black polo shirt. The very few platinum accessories he wore offset his dark looks.
"Let us find this nightlife in 'our' neighborhood, shall we?" he said.
"Yes, we shall." I answered.
We drove to a semi-crowded area, parked and walked to a nice bistro. "Let me order please," he said. He ordered several things I'd never heard of, but every single item turned out to be delicious. We drank wine as we ate, French of course. Our meal was just the right size, not the typical huge meals I was used to back home. I wasn't full, but felt very satisfied.
We adjourned to a sidewalk bar, sitting at an outside table that allowed us to view the people passing by. Several times someone, always a man, would stop by to great Jean-Claude. He was very popular. This was becoming one of the most enjoyable evenings of my life.
We laughed and drank, touching one another as we exchanged barbs. He was a handsome man, a few years older than me, and he was in very good condition. He had a way about himself that made me feel very comfortable.
The evening began to get late when he asked; "It is a long drive to your hotel, would you consider spending the evening at my place?"
I immediately said, "Yes."
We returned to the car and drove to his place. It was very, very nice and tastefully decorated. We shared one more glass of wine. He said, "You of course know you are very beautiful. Those men that stopped at our table were stopping to look at you, not to speak to me. They were all very jealous."
I laughed and then deeply yawned, the day had been long. He said, "Tired? There is a spare room that I will prepare for you, or...?" He left the question hang in the air.
"Show me to 'your' bedroom please," I said.
He reached out for my hand and led me to his bedroom. The bed was large and comfortable looking. The sheets had been turned back. As I looked into his eyes I said, "I've never been with a man before. I think about it every day, but you'll be my first."
He smiled and bent forward to kiss me. He held my face in his hands and kissed me deeply, our tongues dancing with one another. The kiss went on and on, it was wonderful. He pulled away and began to undress me. There was a heavy sensual silence in the air; I was about to make love with a man.
He'd completely undressed me; I stood naked before him, my cock at full attention. He undressed himself, his eyes never leaving mine. Once naked, he returned to the kiss. I felt his hand grasp my stiff cock, slowly stroking me. I reached down for his cock; it was long and thick, matching my own. We kissed for a very long time, stopping only to catch our breath.
He led me to his bed where we lie down, side-by-side. He looked into my eyes, and then bent down to kiss my neck. He worked his way down my body and then engulfed my hard cock with his mouth. I cried out. He took the entire length of my cock into his throat, stopping and holding me inside himself.
I could feel his tongue massage the underside of my cock and could hear him breath through his nose as he continued to give me oral love. He was gently touching my balls with one hand, lightly dragging his fingernails over the skin. I caressed his head as I moaned in ecstasy.
I was getting close to cuming, and as I wanted this to last much longer, I gently pushed him away. I said, "I'd like to do that to you."
With that he moved to his back and stroked his beautiful, beautiful cock. I moved between his legs and bent forward, wanting to suck my first cock. I brought my mouth to his organ and held it to my face, feeling the heat of his blood against my cheek. I closed my eyes and sighed. I turned my face and began to lick that wonderful cock; the taste was different than I'd imagined, almost primal. I licked the head and shaft, gently holding him in my hand. I licked his balls with soft smooth strokes not wishing to cause him any discomfort. Jean-Claude was moaning, running his fingertips over my scalp.
This was where I belonged, where I had fantasized about being for all those years. I brought my open mouth to his cock and slowly began to swallow Jean-Claude. I could feel the girth of his cock as it stretched my throat. I went deeper and deeper, gagging only momentarily. I worked his cock with both my mouth and hands; in much the same way that I'd fantasized about. I stroked and sucked for a long time.
Jean-Claude pulled me up to his mouth, wanting another kiss. We embraced; I lightly held his face as I kissed him back. I think I could fall in love with a man like Jean-Claude.
He finally pulled away from me and said, "Are you sure you have never been with a man before? You seem very natural at it." He'd pronounced the final word as 'eeet'; his French accent seeming to grow along with his passion.
"Yes, but I've thought about this, or at least things like this, hundreds of times. It seems easy and natural somehow."
"Would you like to try something 'more advanced'?" he asked.
"More advanced?"
"I would like to make love to you, to take you," he said.
"Show me, but please be very gentle, you're huge," I replied.
He had me lie on my stomach, resting my head on my arms. He got between my legs and pushed my legs apart and began to lightly caress my virgin hole. I could feel something wet being applied, probably lube. I felt his finger probing me, slowly entering me. We stayed in that position as he continued to open my hole, stretching it, expanding it.
I could feel him shift his weight as he brought his cock to my asshole. He was so gentle, pushing into me, watching for any painful reaction. Soon he was deep inside of me, his chest pressed to my back. He began to slowly fuck me, often going deep. The sensation was like no other I'd ever felt. I tightly gripped the sheets with both hands, my neck arched high. Suddenly Jean-Claude stiffened, I could the heat of his seed entering me, filling me.
It was too much, the cum in my ass and friction of the sheets beneath me was enough to set me off. I shot my load into the bed, feeling the warmth of my own cum against my belly.
We rested like that, his cock inside of me, slowly shrinking until it fell free from my hole. He turned me around and kissed me again. He said, "Thank you 'Minn-e-a-po-lis', you are a very good lover."
We spent the next few days' together, making love, sometimes four and five times a day. He showed me many, many new things.
I moved into my new home; Jean-Claude helping me to find the necessary furnishings, my place soon complete. Work began that Monday. It turned out to be much nicer than my job in Minnesota. The hours were occasionally long, but the work was challenging and fun. My 'gay life' grew too; I began to meet people from the neighborhood and was often invited to dinners and gatherings.
I loved this new life, feeling that I had finally found a place where I could be myself.
Six months went by when I returned to Minnesota, wanting to spend the holidays with family and friends. A big party at a close friend's house had been arranged, all my friends wanting to see me. There was lots of sincere hugging and many kind thoughts were given to me. It was nice to be back here.
The party continued, cocktails were consumed and I drank more than usual. I was at an impasse; could I finally tell my friends that I was gay? I was so happy with my new life and I truly wanted to be honest with myself and with those I loved. The alcohol gave me just enough strength to go ahead with my decision, I'd tell everyone. We were sitting in the large den when I said, "Look guys, I've got something kind of important to tell all of you." Conversations quieted, and eyes were turned my way. 'Here goes' I thought, "I'm gay," I firmly said. For several moments silence filled the room when suddenly everyone burst into laughter. I was confused, were they laughing at me?
In unison they all held up their drinks and shouted, "We already know!" The laughter continued, several people getting up to hug me. Through the conversations that followed I learned that every single person in the room knew of my 'choice'; they'd known it for years. I joined in the laughter, hugging these fine people. Later, one of my closer friends cornered me and said, "How about your folks, going to tell them?" I'd thought on that same issue for sometime, finally deciding that even though I knew it might hurt them, I would again have to be honest.
I spent the night at my friend's house, and then returned to my own that Saturday morning. My mother had prepared a large breakfast; country ham, thick wheat toast covered in creamery butter, scrambled eggs with sweet onion, black coffee and pulpy orange juice. My mother asked, "Did you have a good time last night?"
"Yes, I missed the guys a lot."
"Girls too I bet," said my father.
"That brings up something I need to tell you both," I said. They turned to look at me. "I love you both very much, and I think this may hurt you, but please try to understand," I continued.
"I'm gay," I simply said.
My mother approached me, and held me in her arms, "Why dear, we've always known. We were just waiting for you to tell us, we knew you would once you felt the time was right."
My father came to me and put his arm around my shoulders and said, "We're not nearly as old-fashioned as you seem to think. We both love you dearly and will support you in any decision you make. Did you tell your friends?" he finished.
With red eyes I said, "Yes, they were fine with it too."
I cared about most of the people in our group and I truly enjoyed our time together. I was one of the quieter members of the gang though I wasn't shy. I dated often, liked sex, but rarely let a relationship develop. I guess I'm good looking, sometimes overhearing nice comments about my looks. I'm a fairly big guy, 6'2" and 195 pounds. I work out a lot, not for bulk, but to keep lean; high-reps, low-weight and lots of aerobics thrown in. I'm blonde with very bright blue eyes, 'classic Nordic stock' as my dad would say. I keep my hair cut short, close to my head.
Women seemed to want my company and I was always getting set up on dates. I took advantage of this, and my bed was almost never empty. There was a problem though, it wasn't a woman I wanted in my bed; it was a man. Whenever I had sex, I wouldn't be thinking of the woman I was sharing my body with, instead I'd be fantasizing about some man's cock in my mouth or in my ass.
Minneapolis does have a gay scene, but I could never bring myself to go to it. The stigma would just be too great if anyone found out. My friends would probably ostracize me, or at the very least make me their long-term joke. My parents would never, ever understand; they were 'old, old, old school'. I love them both; I mean I really love them. They've been great parents, my dad supporting me through my very athletic high school sports career, my mom always there with love, but they would never understand my need to be with a man.
As far as vocation, I worked for a fairly large financial services firm, having quickly advanced through the hierarchy, the youngest to ever hold my position. There was currently a rumor going around that a merger was going to take place. The rumor circulated for several weeks when it finally became true; we were to join forces with a similar firm from San Diego, California.
There was a caveat to the merger though; key personnel were to be exchanged between offices so as to better integrate. There were only three other people working in the same position as me but they were all married and settled into the 'Minneapolis life'; having homes, mortgages and k**s in school. It looked like I was the 'likely candidate'. Would I go to San Diego? It didn't take long to make a decision though, maybe thirty seconds; yes I'd go. I spent the next few weeks making sure everything was in order, not wanting to leave anything messy behind; my coworkers had always treated me well.
I drove my SUV to San Diego, taking a few days, stopping whenever I felt the need. Once I got there, I met with the local company's liaison; his name was Jean-Claude. He was of French extraction with dark hair and eyes. He'd been in the US since he was a teenager and had a very light accent, his English near perfect.
He explained that it was his job to help me find a home, settle in and to help me better know the whole San Diego scene. Jean-Claude drove me around San Diego, helping me explore potential places to live in. He'd often make comments concerning the various neighborhoods we visited; he was there to help me decide where to settle. At one point he said, "Now this neighborhood is considered 'gay'. I am not sure how you feel about that, but the homes are very nice, and the streets are clean and safe. I should know, I live nearby," he laughed.
"I hope you don't mind if I ask, but are you gay?" I said.
"Why of course! How can I not be this beautiful and not be gay," he said in an exaggerated French accent.
I laughed in response. I'd warmed to this Frenchman during our brief time together. "Would you like to see something here, or shall we go on?" he asked.
"I think this may be just right," I answered, surprising myself.
We looked at several homes in the neighborhood when I finally found what I was looking for; it was a beautiful town home. The current rent was very high, much more than anything I'd ever paid, but I'd received a massive relocation and 'semi-severance' bonus along with a salary increase as part of my agreement to transfer to the new firm.
"Will you take it?" he asked.
"Yes, when'll it be available?"
He discussed things with the agent and returned to me. "I've arranged for your move in three days. The unit will be freshly painted and re-carpeted prior to your moving in." He had also negotiated for a minor reduction in rent and even a reduced deposit.
"Amazing, you're incredibly efficient."
"It is what I do," he said. He then titled his head slightly to the side and continued, "Besides, I live only two blocks away and I think I may enjoy your company."
He drove me to my hotel, a fairly long drive. During that time we spoke of our respective homes, Minnesota and Bordeaux. The conversation then became more personal, slowly slipping into the sexual arena. He asked, "Do they have gay men in Minn-e-a-po-lis?"
I laughed, "Of course, its not the North Pole."
He continued, "And are you gay?"
My expression dropped, I wasn't sure how to really answer that one. He noticed and said, "No, no, no, I have stepped outside of decorum."
"No, its OK, it's a question I often ask myself."
"Well, I 'am' gay!" he proudly said. "And I am tested often for everything!" he actually winked at me.
Rather than answer his question about my being gay, I said, "Would you show me the nightlife of 'our' neighborhood this evening,"
"But of course," he answered, again slipping into that exaggerated French accent. "I shall pick you up at nine sharp."
He dropped me off at my hotel. I went to my room and lie on the bed, hands behind my head, deep in thought. Here's my chance to finally be who I really am. Yes, I'd pursue this new life.
Nine o'clock rolled around as I waited in front of the hotel for Jean-Claude. The San Diego evening air was splendid. Jean-Claude pulled up in his black Cadillac STS, a very cool car. He was dressed in charcoal slacks, and a fine black polo shirt. The very few platinum accessories he wore offset his dark looks.
"Let us find this nightlife in 'our' neighborhood, shall we?" he said.
"Yes, we shall." I answered.
We drove to a semi-crowded area, parked and walked to a nice bistro. "Let me order please," he said. He ordered several things I'd never heard of, but every single item turned out to be delicious. We drank wine as we ate, French of course. Our meal was just the right size, not the typical huge meals I was used to back home. I wasn't full, but felt very satisfied.
We adjourned to a sidewalk bar, sitting at an outside table that allowed us to view the people passing by. Several times someone, always a man, would stop by to great Jean-Claude. He was very popular. This was becoming one of the most enjoyable evenings of my life.
We laughed and drank, touching one another as we exchanged barbs. He was a handsome man, a few years older than me, and he was in very good condition. He had a way about himself that made me feel very comfortable.
The evening began to get late when he asked; "It is a long drive to your hotel, would you consider spending the evening at my place?"
I immediately said, "Yes."
We returned to the car and drove to his place. It was very, very nice and tastefully decorated. We shared one more glass of wine. He said, "You of course know you are very beautiful. Those men that stopped at our table were stopping to look at you, not to speak to me. They were all very jealous."
I laughed and then deeply yawned, the day had been long. He said, "Tired? There is a spare room that I will prepare for you, or...?" He left the question hang in the air.
"Show me to 'your' bedroom please," I said.
He reached out for my hand and led me to his bedroom. The bed was large and comfortable looking. The sheets had been turned back. As I looked into his eyes I said, "I've never been with a man before. I think about it every day, but you'll be my first."
He smiled and bent forward to kiss me. He held my face in his hands and kissed me deeply, our tongues dancing with one another. The kiss went on and on, it was wonderful. He pulled away and began to undress me. There was a heavy sensual silence in the air; I was about to make love with a man.
He'd completely undressed me; I stood naked before him, my cock at full attention. He undressed himself, his eyes never leaving mine. Once naked, he returned to the kiss. I felt his hand grasp my stiff cock, slowly stroking me. I reached down for his cock; it was long and thick, matching my own. We kissed for a very long time, stopping only to catch our breath.
He led me to his bed where we lie down, side-by-side. He looked into my eyes, and then bent down to kiss my neck. He worked his way down my body and then engulfed my hard cock with his mouth. I cried out. He took the entire length of my cock into his throat, stopping and holding me inside himself.
I could feel his tongue massage the underside of my cock and could hear him breath through his nose as he continued to give me oral love. He was gently touching my balls with one hand, lightly dragging his fingernails over the skin. I caressed his head as I moaned in ecstasy.
I was getting close to cuming, and as I wanted this to last much longer, I gently pushed him away. I said, "I'd like to do that to you."
With that he moved to his back and stroked his beautiful, beautiful cock. I moved between his legs and bent forward, wanting to suck my first cock. I brought my mouth to his organ and held it to my face, feeling the heat of his blood against my cheek. I closed my eyes and sighed. I turned my face and began to lick that wonderful cock; the taste was different than I'd imagined, almost primal. I licked the head and shaft, gently holding him in my hand. I licked his balls with soft smooth strokes not wishing to cause him any discomfort. Jean-Claude was moaning, running his fingertips over my scalp.
This was where I belonged, where I had fantasized about being for all those years. I brought my open mouth to his cock and slowly began to swallow Jean-Claude. I could feel the girth of his cock as it stretched my throat. I went deeper and deeper, gagging only momentarily. I worked his cock with both my mouth and hands; in much the same way that I'd fantasized about. I stroked and sucked for a long time.
Jean-Claude pulled me up to his mouth, wanting another kiss. We embraced; I lightly held his face as I kissed him back. I think I could fall in love with a man like Jean-Claude.
He finally pulled away from me and said, "Are you sure you have never been with a man before? You seem very natural at it." He'd pronounced the final word as 'eeet'; his French accent seeming to grow along with his passion.
"Yes, but I've thought about this, or at least things like this, hundreds of times. It seems easy and natural somehow."
"Would you like to try something 'more advanced'?" he asked.
"More advanced?"
"I would like to make love to you, to take you," he said.
"Show me, but please be very gentle, you're huge," I replied.
He had me lie on my stomach, resting my head on my arms. He got between my legs and pushed my legs apart and began to lightly caress my virgin hole. I could feel something wet being applied, probably lube. I felt his finger probing me, slowly entering me. We stayed in that position as he continued to open my hole, stretching it, expanding it.
I could feel him shift his weight as he brought his cock to my asshole. He was so gentle, pushing into me, watching for any painful reaction. Soon he was deep inside of me, his chest pressed to my back. He began to slowly fuck me, often going deep. The sensation was like no other I'd ever felt. I tightly gripped the sheets with both hands, my neck arched high. Suddenly Jean-Claude stiffened, I could the heat of his seed entering me, filling me.
It was too much, the cum in my ass and friction of the sheets beneath me was enough to set me off. I shot my load into the bed, feeling the warmth of my own cum against my belly.
We rested like that, his cock inside of me, slowly shrinking until it fell free from my hole. He turned me around and kissed me again. He said, "Thank you 'Minn-e-a-po-lis', you are a very good lover."
We spent the next few days' together, making love, sometimes four and five times a day. He showed me many, many new things.
I moved into my new home; Jean-Claude helping me to find the necessary furnishings, my place soon complete. Work began that Monday. It turned out to be much nicer than my job in Minnesota. The hours were occasionally long, but the work was challenging and fun. My 'gay life' grew too; I began to meet people from the neighborhood and was often invited to dinners and gatherings.
I loved this new life, feeling that I had finally found a place where I could be myself.
Six months went by when I returned to Minnesota, wanting to spend the holidays with family and friends. A big party at a close friend's house had been arranged, all my friends wanting to see me. There was lots of sincere hugging and many kind thoughts were given to me. It was nice to be back here.
The party continued, cocktails were consumed and I drank more than usual. I was at an impasse; could I finally tell my friends that I was gay? I was so happy with my new life and I truly wanted to be honest with myself and with those I loved. The alcohol gave me just enough strength to go ahead with my decision, I'd tell everyone. We were sitting in the large den when I said, "Look guys, I've got something kind of important to tell all of you." Conversations quieted, and eyes were turned my way. 'Here goes' I thought, "I'm gay," I firmly said. For several moments silence filled the room when suddenly everyone burst into laughter. I was confused, were they laughing at me?
In unison they all held up their drinks and shouted, "We already know!" The laughter continued, several people getting up to hug me. Through the conversations that followed I learned that every single person in the room knew of my 'choice'; they'd known it for years. I joined in the laughter, hugging these fine people. Later, one of my closer friends cornered me and said, "How about your folks, going to tell them?" I'd thought on that same issue for sometime, finally deciding that even though I knew it might hurt them, I would again have to be honest.
I spent the night at my friend's house, and then returned to my own that Saturday morning. My mother had prepared a large breakfast; country ham, thick wheat toast covered in creamery butter, scrambled eggs with sweet onion, black coffee and pulpy orange juice. My mother asked, "Did you have a good time last night?"
"Yes, I missed the guys a lot."
"Girls too I bet," said my father.
"That brings up something I need to tell you both," I said. They turned to look at me. "I love you both very much, and I think this may hurt you, but please try to understand," I continued.
"I'm gay," I simply said.
My mother approached me, and held me in her arms, "Why dear, we've always known. We were just waiting for you to tell us, we knew you would once you felt the time was right."
My father came to me and put his arm around my shoulders and said, "We're not nearly as old-fashioned as you seem to think. We both love you dearly and will support you in any decision you make. Did you tell your friends?" he finished.
With red eyes I said, "Yes, they were fine with it too."
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