Free Boys Will Be Boys - Their First Time by Mickey Erlach Page B

would end sooner or later. You ’ re never going to leave your wife. ”
    “ I ’ m sorry, ” said Mike, “ But you ’ re okay, man? ”
    Noah smiled. “ Yes. I ’ m fine. And I think you ’ re a great guy, but I need more than this. ”
    “ Get in and start your car, ” Mike said, smacking Noah ’ s ass, “ I want to make sure you get out of here okay , and no one rapes that pretty ass of yours … at least for tonight it only belongs to me. ”
    “ Thank you, ” Noah said. He wanted to say more, but just slipped into his car, started the engine and drove naked onto the dark highway. For a mile or so he felt safe; Mike ’ s headlights were in his mirror. He managed not to look back as he pulled off the highway and headed down a dark country road toward the rural Pennsylvania home where he ’ d been born and raised.
    About two weeks later, after calling his mother and father to let them know he ’ d arrived in Manhattan safely, Noah was standing beside his black college luggage with brown leather trim and hailing a taxi at the Port Authority. He was headed to his new home; a large, two-bedroom, dream-come-true co-op he ’ d be sharing with three other gay men. The ad on Craigslist had read, “ Three guys, ages 22, 30 and 33, looking to rent a room in Chelsea to a young, nonsmoker, willing to share one quarter of the rent. ” At first it all sounded too good to be true, but after several e-mails, and a couple of phone calls, Noah decided this ad was the perfect opportunity to leave the rural countryside and begin a new life as a city boy. The situation had been explained faultlessly: three guys were all together – in a permanent three - way relationship . Noah would have his own room and his privacy when he needed it, in one of the gayest urban neighborhoods in the world.
    The building, on 18 th , just off Tenth A venue , wasn ’ t awful, and it had a doorman who wore a long burgundy top coat, with epilates trimmed in gold and a matching cap. With a dull golden brick façade, chocolate brown window trim, and a sign over the lobby entrance that read “ Penny Lane , ” the place probably hadn ’ t been remodeled since the early 1970s. It backed up to a restaurant called “ The Park ” that appeared to go against its name until you figured it out. If you didn ’ t know anything about The Park you would assume a park-like setting, with trees and grass and benches, however, The Park Restaurant was actually a converted parking garage. Until he landed a real job, Noah suspected The Park might be a great plac e to wait tables .
    The doorman announced his name into a metal speaker , and Noah walked through the brown lobby toward the elevator. He pushed a button for the tenth floor and rode up to meet his new room mates.
    All three were home. Mike, the thirty-three - year - old, was the one who answered the door. Noah hoped his name wouldn ’ t be a bad omen. “ Hey man, did you have any trouble finding the place? ”
    “ No, none at all, ” said Noah. Mike looked more like twenty-three than thirty-three , with short blond streaks, a painfully thin waist and a chest and arms that seemed to pop from the tight white T -shirt he was wearing. His low-rise jeans with a three - inch zipper were as tight as the skin on his tanned face, and Noah liked that he wasn ’ t effeminate in any way. The small, square entrance hall of the apartment, covered with the most exquisite wallpaper of sage green ferns he ’ d ever seen, rang with sophistication Noah had read about in magazines. The gray marble floor complimented the sage ferns , and Noah actually touched the walls to see if the ferns had been hand painted.
    “ I ’ ve never seen wallpaper like this, ” he said to Mike.
    “ Thank you, ” Mike replied, “ I ’ m an interior designer, and a collector of vintage Florence Broadhurst wallpaper. She was a lively character from Australia , who didn ’ t begin to design wallpaper until she was in her sixties.