Essence of Time by Liz Crowe

friend’s knee. “I was such a pussy. I swear on my mother’s grave I will never, ever let that happen again.”
    “All women aren’t that way, you know.” Rob insisted.
    “Yes. They are. Pass me a beer.”
    Rob handed one over. “No they are not.”
    Jack shot him a significant look. “One word my friend: Christine.”
    Robs lifted his brown bottle. “Two words: Fuck you.”
    “I rest my case.”
    They spent nights sitting side by side watching either ESPN Sportscenter or a live baseball or soccer game, sipping and contemplating themselves. “She laughed at me. Fucking giggled and stared at the fucking ring I had bought like it was roadkill.” Rob let Jack go on, “then proceeds to take off her necklace, hand it to me and describe in full detail how she got DP’ed by my roommates downstairs. Full fucking detail, dude. Really throws cold water on a man’s brain, you know?” He put a hand on Rob’s leg. Rob flinched, moving away slightly.
    “I should tell you something.” He muttered around his bottle realizing they were both drunk enough to handle this little moment of truth. As Jack leaned back, putting both arms across the back of the couch, Rob let a sense of peace settle over him. He was completely comfortable with the man, his friend, his compatriot, the guy he’d seen more up close and personal than any “friend” had a right to. It was okay. “I’m bi. I mean, in France, I…um…”
    Jack threw his head back and laughed until tears roll down his face. Rob gulped and finished his umpteenth beer. The room spun.  “My man.” He slapped Rob’s knee, got up and made his wobbly way to the bathroom. Returning, zipping up, he grinned at Rob who still sat, frozen in place, on the couch. “I knew that already. It’s cool. You are my brother. The end. Be happy, that’s all I want for you. Well, that, and you helping me land more pussy. You still okay with that?” He flopped back down on the couch, anger settling over his handsome features again. “Fucking bitch. C’mon let’s eat that gourmet whatever the hell it is that smells so damn good and hit the town!”
     
     
    Rob shook his head to clear it from that memory, stood and pulled a soft leather belt through the loops of his trousers. The club apparently had a dress code and even though he was going as an “observer” tonight, as Jack’s special guest, he had no idea what to expect. Less than no idea actually, “So, what am I supposed to do anyway? Watch you spank some chick to get her off?”
    Jack threw him an irritated look. Rob gave him a “what the fuck?” expression back. “No. I explained it to you. You and Kyle will merely observe the early selection. Where the people—women mostly—are there in various stages of moderate restraint, and the potential Doms, like me, present ourselves to them. I usually spot one I like right away, compel her to pick me. But at the end of the night, it is the submissive’s call who gets to play.” He adjusted his tie once more. “I’ve never gone without at this place I assure you.”
    Rob rolled his eyes and found his soft camel-hair jacket, smoothed his newly cut hair back and stared at himself a minute. How far he’d come. He clenched his fists, let himself recall last week’s clean bill of health and sent out a quick “up yours” to the cancer librarian. His book was still not due apparently. Might as well jump into this shit with both feet. “What if I want to participate?”
    “You can’t.” Jack stalked out, downed a huge glass of water. “You haven’t been drinking have you?”
    “No. You told me not to.”
    “Okay, good.” The guy looked a little nervous. Rob smiled at him.
    “Relax my brother. It’s cool. I’m not making fun of you or this…kink you’ve chosen.” Jack glared at him.
    “I don’t know anymore.” He sank into a kitchen chair, the light fading from his eyes. “I mean, I loved it. Fucking ate it up. But since Jenna.” He ran a hand over his