Last month I moved into my apartment in Southwest Washington not far from the capitol. I got an unbelievable deal because my mother’s ex-husband, Greg, owned the place but he was going to be stationed in Japan for, at least, a year. He knew I was finishing my studies at Virginia Tech and hoped to find work in DC. I had no money and plenty of student loan debt. He brought up the idea of me living in his two bedroom condo. There is no way I could afford it normally. He said he wanted to have someone in the unit since he wasn’t going to be back for months. All he asked was that I pay the utilities and monthly homeowner’s fees which together were usually about $350.
The apartment was close to many government buildings and would normally rent for multiple thousands of dollars. It was perfect for me. Greg said I could have a roommate as long as the person didn’t smoke. I didn’t try to find a roommate originally because I had lived with three or four guys in apartments and houses in Blackburn, VA. I was tired of the mess that inevitably comes with four guys living together. Even though I got along well with my roommates they were constantly be changing. The only constant was my best friend from high school, Jason.
Jason wasn’t able to move to Washington because he had his mandatory ROTC military service to complete before he could join me. In my first month I interviewed for several intern jobs in the departments of agriculture and commerce. None panned out. I got the proverbial, ‘We’ll get back to you.’ I had a fallback. I had tended bar in Blackburn so I felt I could find a bartending job if I had to. I wanted to get a real job before I fell back on bartending.
One afternoon as I was contemplating my career I was sitting on the small screened porch off of my living room. It was furnished with a glass top table, two plastic web chairs and a lounger with a green cushion. I was naked, which is the way I was usually dressed at home if it’s warm enough. I didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing me because construction on the condo building next to mine was not completed. Occasionally, I saw one of the Hispanic construction workers at a window across from me. I hadn’t noticed that the workers paid any attention to me.
One afternoon I must have fallen asleep on the lounger. When my eyes opened I could see several people in the yet unfinished condo. I quickly pulled a tee shirt that I had hanging on the chair to cover me. If they saw me naked it was probably while I was asleep. In a few minutes what looked like three men were gone. I relaxed.
Over the next month as summer came into its hot, muggy time I found I could only sit on the balcony in the early morning or after the sun went down. I was aware of activity in the building as realtors showed various condos. I could clearly see into the three units directly across from me and one condo a floor below me. The longer I watched the more I wanted to know what the condos looked like. While I had not interested or had the ability to buy a unit I decided to go to the sales office and ask to see what was available. I specifically asked to see the unit across from mine.
The sales lady looked the unit up and told me it was under contract so she couldn’t show it to me. I requested the one immediately below which was available. She took me up and unlocked the door. The emptiness was in stark contrast to my nicely decorated space. The floors of the new condo were big white marble squares. The kitchen was to the right with dark cabinets and a battleship gray stone island where the sink was located. The sales lady showed me the lighting which was impressive even in the middle of the day.
The two bedrooms were to the left of the main room. Both had their own bathrooms and were well appointed. What impressed me the most was the balcony which stretched from the front bedroom across to the living area. It was not as wide as mine but could be reached from either the bedroom or the living room. The sales lady knew I couldn’t afford to buy the place but she was pleasant and gave me the sales material. I almost chocked when I saw the asking price of $850,000.
My search for internships continued to be unsuccessful so I fell back on my old standby of bartending. I wanted a bar not too far from the apartment because I would have to return home late at night. My area was relatively safe but I was still finding my way around. I was offered a bartending position at The Salt Line. It was a well known restaurant on the Potomac with water front patio and plenty of fresh seafood.
Originally, I was one of two bartenders for the patio bar. When the owner, Mr. Zimmerman, found out I knew how to make many exotic drinks so I was moved inside to the main bar. My hours were later inside but the tips were better as the night went on. Congressmen and Senators who I had seen on TV came into the bar. I couldn’t remember their names but they were always surrounded by good looking young men and women who were in positions I would like to have.
One night before closing a young guy with blond hair was talking with two friends until they got up to leave. He continued sitting at my bar. Since I didn’t have much to do I inquired what he did. He was well served but not drunk. He smiled, “I’m an ass kisser to that Congressman over there.” He pointed to a small group of older people sitting at a corner table none of whom I recognized. I smiled and didn’t know how to respond. I couldn’t tell if he liked or didn’t like his job. Without me saying more he said, “Don’t get me wrong I like my job. I hope he gets re-elected so I don’t have to go looking for another job.”
“Where is your boss from?”
“Seventh Congressional District of California which is the district east of Sacramento.”
“That means he’s probably a Republican?”
The guy said scowling, “Unfortunately, he a Democrat. He has primary opponents from both parties. We’ll have to see since this is only his second term.” The guy pushed himself up, “Got to go, what’s your name?”
I wasn’t sure he really cared but I said, ”Jack.” He stepped away. I was sure I wouldn’t talk to him again even if he came into the bar.
As summer days and nights merged into crisp fall days I continued to work at the restaurant and followed job leads not only in government departments but also other internships that came to my attention. I wrote the Congressman from my parent’s Virginia’s District #4 which included Petersburg where we lived after my father retired from the Navy. The Congressman, who I knew was a Democrat, wrote me, or a staff member wrote me, and told me they didn’t have a paid position but had an unpaid internship. My interview was scheduled when the staff member returned to Washington. If I got the internship I knew I would have to continue to tend bar.
When the interview occurred in October the fellow, whose name was Mark Botkins, seemed to like me. He said I would have to be available on a moment’s notice. I was honest and told him I had to continue to work but my hours were evening and night hours so it might work. He was skeptical but understood and told me he would get back to me. I walked out dejected because I had heard those words many times before. I walked to my apartment and threw my dress clothes on the sofa and walked onto the balcony.
The sun was bright and warm as was the air temperature. I closed my eyes. I noticed directly across from me was an older man sitting on a lounger which was the only piece of furniture on the new balcony. My immediate reaction was to get a towel to cover myself. I felt unappreciated and stood unmoved. Eventually, the guy got up and I could see he was wearing underpants and nothing more.
He disappeared into the condo which I had l had originally asked to see. I presumed he was the person who had the condo under contract. I went inside to prepare for work. When I came home the light of a full moon shone as I walked the quarter mile from the restaurant. I turned on one lamp and went outside to enjoy the full moon before I went to bed. I undressed and got myself a beer from the refrigerator. The clock read one o’clock. I opened the balcony door and the moon was bright enough to read by. I sat down and looked across at my neighbor’s condo. He was sitting there and didn’t move. It was dark enough so I presume he couldn’t see me. I sipped my beer but my mind was really blank.
As the weather turned cool my afternoon or evening sessions on the balcony were discontinued. I didn’t see the older fellow because decorators came in and put in floor to ceiling shades that were drawn most of the time. I assumed he travelled and wasn’t in his condo much.
Before the Congressional recess at Thanksgiving I got a call from the staff member in my home Congressman’s office inviting me to come in again. This time the staff member said that the job had a small stipend. I was excited and anxiously waited for the interview which took place right after the holiday. Apparently my Congressman had been easily elected and had gained some seniority which gave him more salary line permitting hiring a couple of additional staff members. That allowed me to cut back my bartending hours to Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights.
The first Saturday night of my new bartending schedule I noticed a man who I thought was my across the building neighbor. He came in with a group of six men and women. He didn’t look my direction so I assumed he didn’t recognize me. I was busy making drinks and opening beer bottles. I hadn’t noticed that my presumed neighbor, a tall distinguished man with white, short hair had seated himself at the bar. When I turned to ask what he wanted he smiled, “I think you’re my neighbor.”
I’m sure I blushed, “Yes, sir, I believe I am. I haven’t seen you very much.”
“Oh, I’m with the State Department so I have been traveling a great deal lately. I hope it is over until after the holidays. What about yourself?”
“Basically bartending but I’m excited that I got a job as a paid aide to our Congressman from the Fourth District in Southern Virginia. I’ll only be here on weekends.”
“Please excuse me for being noisy but how can a young guy like you afford your apartment?”
I laughed, “I’m house sitting for my mother’s former husband while he’s living in Japan. You are correct with my student loans I could never afford his place.”
In a formal manner he continued, “Young man what is your name?
“Sir, my name is John Robert Springfield but everyone calls me Jack.”
“When I see you I will call you John Robert which is more in keeping with your handsome, youthful appearance.” I began to think he was trying to pick me up. I wanted to remain pleasant because you never know in Washington who can help you. I was wrong because he paid me for his drink and pushed himself up. He said, “Hope to see you again, John Robert.”
That did not happen until after the New Year. I would look over at his condo and it was almost always dark. If there was light inside it was blocked by the shades which were always drawn. That was fine with me because I was busy learning my new job as constituent representative for my Congressman and tending bar. I was able to join a volleyball league which played every Tuesday night. I could make most of the practices. I had no regular time off but occasionally I was able to ride my bike on the bike trails around Washington either toward Mount Vernon or out along the old Chesapeake Canal.
I don’t remember whether it was a Friday or Saturday night my neighbor whose name I didn’t know came into the bar with a young fellow who looked to be about my age. He was good looking and I figured my neighbor had found his boy. I smiled, “Good evening, Sir, what can I get for you?”
I got in return, “John Robert, I want you to meet my grandson Chad.” Awkwardly, Chad held his hand out to me. I took it and solidly shook it. “I’ll have a brandy old fashioned and what for you Chad?”
“What IPA do you have on draft?”
“I’ve got six but if you like lager I recommend On the Wings of Armageddon.”
“OK, I’ll give it a try.” After fixing the old fashioned I drew the Armageddon. He pulled it to his lips and smiled. “Good aroma, full taste, I like.” At that point the hostess came up to them to tell them their table in the restaurant was ready. They paid me and went to their table. I thought that was the end but it wasn’t. After dinner they came back in and sat at the bar. The older fellow spoke first, “John Robert, I don’t think I have ever introduced myself, I’m Charles Stockton and my grandson is Chad Springfield.”
My eyes got wide. “Springfield is my name.”
“I know but I don’t think you are related because Chad is from Tennessee. I think you said you were from Southern Virginia.”
“That is true, but my father was Navy. When he retired he decided to stay close to Norfolk. He’s a civilian contractor for the Navy. My grandmother lives near Crossville, Tennessee. I don’t get to see her often because for some reason my father doesn’t seem to get along too well with his family.”
Chad said, “Shit, we must be related because I’m from Kingston, Tennessee.”
Mr. Stockton said smiling, “Chad, but you know there are many Springfields around there. Why don’t you ask you mother if she knows any Springfields in Crossville.” After a few more pleasantries they departed. Before they left I wrote down my cell phone number for Mr. Stockton. A few days later Mr. Stockton called and asked if I was free to have dinner with he and Chad before Chad returned to Knoxville. We agreed to meet at a Lebanese restaurant in the Eastern Market the following evening. They were seated when I arrived dressed from work.
Chad cheerfully started, “We must be relatives. My mother asked if your grandmother’s maiden name was May Springfield? If that is her name she is my grandmother’s sister.”
Mr. Stockton interjected, “John Robert, I used to be married to Chad’s grandmother but we’re divorced. I knew she had several sisters and brothers but I really didn’t know any well except for one brother who lived in Kingston. He is Chad’s father. He and I kept in contact after the divorce. That’s how I kept up with Chad and his brother.
Chad said, “Jack, that means we’re second cousins. Grandmother remembered that your dad was in the military but really didn’t know much else. She returned to using Springfield after their divorce. She said that after her divorce she and your grandmother were in regular contact. She said your grandmother rarely mentioned your family because she had three other children who live close to her.”
“That’s interesting news because I really know little about my father’s family. We were much closer to my mother’s family.” The conversation turned to what the three of us did or planned to do. The most interesting to me was what Mr. Stockton told us or didn’t tell us about his job.
He said, “John Robert, Chad wants to move to the District and find a job like you did. Any chance he could be your roommate? He should be asking but let me explain. You probably remember I work for the State Department. I recently learned I was being stationed in Egypt at our embassy. I will keep my condo but it will be vacant most of the time. I would like it if you boys could keep an eye on it for me. I’m sure you’re wondering why I don’t offer it to you. You see I’m an intelligence officer which the bad guys like to keep track of. If you and Chad want to have parties occasionally at my place that would be perfect. It’s important to be obvious and make sure the bad guys are watching. I want them to think I’m home.” We both sat intently listening.
Chad said, “So you want us to use your condo but not live there, right?”
Mr. Stockton said, “You don’t have to worry about cleaning up I will give you the name of the house cleaners. All you have to do is call them when your party is over. The only thing I ask is no smoking in the condo.”
I said, “The only problem I can see is my landlord coming back from Japan. I will have to move. ”
Mr. Stockton smiled, “John Robert, if that happens we will deal with if it happens. You have heard nothing so far?”
We ended our pleasant time together with Mr. Stockton paying for dinner and drinks. We returned to my condo so Chad could see where I lived. He liked what he saw and asked if he could return over spring break for a visit. I agreed.
Somewhat sarcastically Mr. Stockton said, “Chad, if you move in with John Robert he likes sun naked on his balcony when the weather is nice.” I could feel the blood rising up in my face. Chad shrugged his shoulders and the two of them left. I was so embarrassed but was relieved the next morning when Chad texted me and asked me to join him for coffee at our corner coffee shop.
As Chad walked in he said, “Sorry for what my grandfather said. I think he was a little over served. If I move in with you I am more than happy to go around naked all the time. That is my preferred dress code at home and sometimes out at the lake on my jet ski. I was relieved and we talked a more about how I thought Chad should go about getting a job since he wasn’t a bartender like I was.
I saw Chad in late March but was so busy with my job that I only met him late night. He had asked, and I agreed, that he could bring a friend with him. They did things together. I only had dinner with them twice. I offered the couch to Chad’s friend but they seemed comfortable dressed in boxers sleeping together in my other queen size bed.
I didn’t see Chad again until he moved in June. He drove up with his mother and younger brother. The sleeping arrangements were a tight but it turned out that Chad and his brother slept in my king size bed, his mother in the other bedroom and I slept on the living room sofa. It was only two nights and everything worked out.
Chad’s mother was interested in knowing about me and my family since it was her husband who was my father’s brother. I explained our Navy life and told her I did not know why my father had become estranged from the family. While she wasn’t a Springfield until she married Chad’s father she recounted that she had knew about my father and speculated. She said, “Chad’s grandfather Springfield was a decorated Army officer in World War II. He became infuriated when your father joined the Navy. Even after your grandfather’s death my husband didn’t reach out to your father, as far as I know.
As I had said earlier, “My father only spoke of his mother, May, by her first name.
Mrs. Springfield said, “I have gotten to know May in the last few years. Apparently she was married to several men but Chad’s father and your father were from her first marriage to a Mr. Springfield. She is a sweet lady and she would love to see you. I told Chad’s grandmother to tell May we were going to visit you.”
I said, “Maybe sometime I can come home with Chad and I meet her. I would like that very much.” We did the normal tourist things on Saturday and Sunday. They came to the The Salt Line for dinner Saturday night when I was working. Late Sunday afternoon since I had the keys to Mr. Stockton’s condo I took them over to show them the beautiful new unit. Neither Chad nor I explained what Mr. Stockton wanted us to do. Mrs. Springfield, Brad and Barry left Monday morning.
Things in my relationship with Chad changed quickly. He was usually sleeping when I left for work. When I got home he was usually naked cooking something delicious. I quickly got used to looking at his bubble butt and the hair on his body particularly his chest. He always had the curtains wide open. While other condos across from us could see in neither of us ever saw anyone.
He suggested we get to know each other better. He was a sexy guy with blue eyes the color of a blue bird’s breast. After dinner one night I invited him into my bedroom. He seemed to want to do more than kiss. I was totally comfortable. We didn’t go all the way the first night but he did stay in my bed and sleep with me for the first of many nights. Nothing was said about us being gay. We enjoyed sex with each other. It was summer so he struggled to find a job.
I suggested he try to get a job at my restaurant as a bus person or an assistant in the kitchen. He said he preferred the kitchen so I spoke to Mr. Zimmerman and told him about the food Chad fixed for us. He talked to the Executive Chef Mr. Carlos about giving him a try. Chad was quickly Mr. Carlos’ “go-to” sous chef. That changed our relationship because I kept a regular daily work schedule on the hill plus three nights bartending. Chad didn’t start work until four and usually got home about midnight. Needless to say our time together in bed was limited. His nights off were Monday and Tuesday so I dropped the volleyball league.
In early September we each got an email from Mr. Stockton suggesting we plan a party. Neither of us was sure he knew that Chad was working. After much discussion we decided our party should be on the Monday night of Columbus Day weekend. We put together a list and sent Evites to twenty men and women from my volleyball league, my office and the restaurant. The week before our party I had been in Mr. Stockton’s condo bringing snacks, drinks and flowers. I intentionally left the shade up so if anyone interested they could see me. With Chef Carlos permission Chad made some beautiful hor o’dervers. Chad’s little brother, Barry, drove up for the party. The party was a big success with our friends getting to know each other. We communicated everything to Mr. Stockton who suggested we plan a party before Christmas.
Barry didn’t seem to care or comment about us being barely dressed or sleeping together. All he suggested was he wanted to return with a friend for the party at Christmas if we had one. That became more complicated because Mr. and Mrs. Springfield wanted to attend the next party, too. They asked if they could bring the two grandmothers. Chad and I discussed what to do about sleeping arrangements and whether we should come out to his parents. I was not ready to approach the gay issue with my parents.
Mr. Stockton wasn’t sure whether he would be home for the party. He wanted us to plan everything so we assumed he wouldn’t be there. That meant that Chad, Barry, Barry’s girlfriend and me would sleep at Mr. Stockton’s and the Springfields would have our condo.
Two years passed quickly. Chad and I continued to live together. Chad was promoted to assistant sous chef and stopped looking for a government job. In November our second year living together things changed. My Congressman lost his election. While I wasn’t directly involved in the reelection campaign I was aware of the difficulties he was having with his opponent an outgoing, charismatic African American who had significant national support from the Republican Party. While the race was close my Congressman lost by several thousand votes. I knew I was going to have to find a new job but I had so much work to finish I didn’t think about it.
Chad was putting on weight because he was around food all the time. I jokingly said something about it and he didn’t appreciate my comment. Our intimacy took place less often until one night Chad came home and I was not in bed. He had been drinking and said he wanted to have sex with me. He had never before come out and asked. I never was one to turn down sex because I enjoyed it. That night I did not enjoy it. He pulled me into our bedroom and almost ripped off my clothes. I pulled away a little frightened. He stepped back, “Something wrong?”
“Yes, you don’t have to rip off my clothes. I’ll take them off.” He stood dumbfounded but didn’t move. I took off my clothes except my underpants as he stood there completely dressed. “Are you getting undressed?” He staggered and slipped off his shoes before falling into a chair. I knew sex was as bad idea but he did manage to get undressed. Once in bed he seemed intent on getting his dick hard. He almost punished himself but he was finally able to get ready. He wanted to top me. I lubed myself because he was big enough to hurt me if I wasn’t prepared. We did have sex but I certainly didn’t enjoy it like I had before. He seemed oblivious to how I felt.
The next day nothing was said as he slept off his drunkenness after I went to work. Two nights later he again wanted to do rough sex but, at least he wasn’t drunk. Again he treated me roughly and I didn’t complain. That night we kissed and snuggled which I liked.
Plans for the Christmas party were proceeding. We decided not to do a tree but found plenty of holiday decorating items in Mr. Stockton’s hall closet. As expected Mr. Stockton did not attend which meant there was room for everyone. As the holidays approached I was asked by my boss if Chad would provide hor o’derves for our office holiday party. Chad agreed and used Mr. Stockton’s kitchen to prepare for our party and my office party. The food he prepared was delicious and most important it looked really good. Chad was becoming a master at presentation. My Congressman was complimentary and impressed with the food. I saw less and less of Chad because the business at the restaurant was booming. Mr. Zimmerman promised Chad a week off with pay after the holidays if he would work six days a week. The restaurant was closed on Mondays except for private parties.
I was alone in bed more than I had been since Chad moved in. What puzzled me was his not coming home several nights. I chose not to ask but found out when he asked if he could bring his assistant in the kitchen home one night. I agreed expecting some cute young guy but was surprised when he introduced a short, brunette woman named Natalie. She had deep brown eyes and a cute dimple. I tried not to show my surprise. I could tell Chad wasn’t saying something he wanted to say so I decided to take the lead and said,” Yeah, guys what’s up?”
Still hesitant Chad quietly said, “Jack, would you be willing to have sex with me so Natalie can watch?” I was shocked but couldn’t bring myself to yell at him. I stood quietly as he continued, “She would be naked, too.” I still hadn’t answered his original question.
Natalie spoke for the first time, “Jack, I know it sounds kinky. I admit I like to watch guys on porn videos do it. I would like to see you and Chad get it on.” As angry as I was I smiled and stripped off my tee shirt and running shorts since that is all I was wearing. I said, “Let’s get to it before I change my mind.” I walked into our bedroom and waited. They walked in together and I watched as Chad’s protruding belly came into view. Natalie was slim, almost skinny, as she stood next to the bed. She grabbed Chad’s dick through his boxers and was massaging it as if he needed help getting hard. She jerked his pants off and he jumped on top of me. They didn’t know that I had lubed myself because I was sure Chad was totally into entertaining Natalie and could have cared less about me. The sex started as usual but I noticed Chad did not kiss me. I could see Natalie with her finger inside herself rubbing which made me horny. After Chad had done me a few minutes he pulled out, took off the condom and put on a new one and pushed Natalie onto her back. He inserted himself and she was writhing around. I was the observer but found it interesting to watch. I knew I had no interest in participating. Chad didn’t ask me to take a turn.
Since that happened only a couple of weeks before our party Natalie was over frequently and was a good worker. On the day of the party the Springfield’s arrived about three in the afternoon. Chad, Natalie and I had already moved into Mr. Stockton’s place. As expected Barry and his girlfriend were joining the five of us who worked to make sure everything was ready. The party went on well past the scheduled ending time at ten. The Springfields left with the two grandmothers before ten. By eleven all the guests gone and we had a mountain of dirty plates and glasses to wash and trash to empty. Barry and his girlfriend went to bed about midnight. Natalie, Chad and I finished up before going into the master bedroom. After a quick shower the three of us collapsed into bed together but that was the last time that happened.
I didn’t see Natalie again but neither did I see much of Chad as Christmas and New Year approached. The week before Christmas I got a long email from, Greg, the owner of our condo. He said he would be returning to Washington in early February. He hoped I had enough time to find another place to live. I was unhappy but knew the day that I dreaded would come. I didn’t bother to tell Chad until after Christmas but when I did it didn’t seem to matter to him. He announced that he and Natalie had enrolled in a culinary training program in Ft. Lauderdale which would start shortly after the New Year. He said they were leaving right after the New Year to drive down to Florida to find a place to live before classes began January 10.
If that wasn’t bad enough Mr. Stockton called me on WhatsUp to tell me he had decided to rent his condo since it looked like he was going to be overseas for another year. He said he needed the revenue to offset the expenses which he knew I could not pay. My moving in was not discussed. While my Congressman had not been reelected in November I knew I had a job until the first of the year. However, before he returned to Washington for the lame duck session he had major cardiac event which prompted his immediate resignation. I not only wouldn’t have a place to live by February I knew I wouldn’t have a job.