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door of the Mustang for me. As he got in and started the engine, he gave me an understanding smile, “I think we both need some more sleep,” he said.
    ~~~~~~~~
    It was well past noon when we both started to stir. I had finally fallen asleep in my favorite position – my head cradled in the small of his shoulder with his arms holding me, and our legs knotted together around each other, me playing with the hair on his chest. Normally on Sunday mornings after having a filling breakfast at the diner, we’d spend the time before falling asleep continuing to wind down, toying with each other, but that had not happened this time. Michael seemed a little distant – like he was deep in thought when we arrived at the apartment, and even though I did my best to distract him, stroking the inside of his thighs and fingering his cock, he was only interested in whatever thoughts were occupying his head.
    As I dozed off I wished I hadn’t said anything about Stephen being back in Chicago. Michael knew more about my marriage than anyone else I had met in the last six months, and he had not seemed bothered by it. Maybe it was that Stephen was gone, that I had no way of contacting him other than to call his mother’s house (and he knew how I felt about talking to that woman); maybe somehow none of it had been real to him – God only knows I was trying my hardest to make it all unreal for myself; maybe we were just too busy being stoned and fucking for him to pay attention, but whatever it was, this was the first time he had refused my attentions. Neither of us had ever talked about our relationship being any more than an extended one-night-stand. I mean sure, I had sensed it changing from just screwing to something else, more like making love, but he knew I was married… So what the hell was the problem? Goddamn it… why did I tell him?
    ~~~~~~~~
    Sleep seemed to have done the trick for Michael. Whatever had been bothering him the night before had evaporated, at least for the time being. “Want to come to the garage with me today?” he asked as he cozied up behind me in perfect spoon-like fashion.
    “Maybe; are you working on the Mustang or bike or are you meeting someone there?” I replied yawning.
    “I was going to change the sparkplugs on my bike.”
    “Hmph… that sounds terribly exciting.”
    He snickered in my ear saying, “Liar… I just thought it would give us a chance to talk… You could hand me the wrenches.”
    “Right, you know I don’t know one wrench from another.”
    “I’ll teach you,” he replied, and I could feel his smile against the back of my head.
    Hesitating a moment as I opened my eyes and started to stretch I said, “I have to do the laundry – I’m out of clean underwear.”
    “Now that’s what I call an exciting Sunday afternoon,” he chuckled.
    I rolled over facing him now, ran my hand over his strong shoulder and down the length of his arm feeling the gentle curve of his muscles, continuing my exploration over his hard, lean thighs. Michael lay still, hardly breathing. He kissed me deeply, for a very long time, holding me as close as possible to him, our hips pushing together. I lowered my head, kissing his shoulders, chest and perfectly flat stomach as my fingers found the soft inside of his thighs, making their way through his thick, dark pubic hair to cup his balls. I moved, pushing his back flat on the bed and rolled on top of him. His hands embraced my face, smoothing my long hair back so he was looking me in the eyes.
    “You’re beautiful babe,” he murmured. I gave him a half-curled smirk in return. “No, really, I mean it – you’re beautiful.” His hand held my hair at the back of my neck as he pulled me down on top of him.
    I was right. We weren’t just fucking anymore – we were making love. God help him .

Chapter Seven
Lying to the World
    The weeks seemed to fly by. I stayed stoned as much as possible, one of the best things I could do to keep from thinking about