WARNING: SLASH!
Inequalities
Ivo was not simply the dominant member in our relationship; he devoured me. I realize now that my infidelities were a calculated effort to save myself from wholly losing whatever identity I had as a man. I would never be his equal in intellect, never make up the vast differences in experience he wore as negligently as the silver chain around his neck. By definition, I would always be younger, the student, and he would always be older, the professor. No amount of time would ever close that gap.
The one arena where I wielded absolute control over him was our sex life. He needed me in a way that made him weak, subservient. He would come begging to my bed, often drunk to hide his shame, desperate for relief from those painfully ordinary bodily desires that equalize all men. I had only to beckon and he would skive off class, call in sick to an out-of-town conference, cancel a meeting with a colleague. Ivo might have walked higher than me in the Great Republic of Learning. But I owned his dick.
My last year of school, when I was home much of the time writing my novel, he took to appearing midday so that we might eat together. Ostensibly it was so that he could break up the monotony of my day, give me a sounding board if I was stuck on something. But as these prandial discussions invariably turned into wild sexual romps in various rooms, it was clear to me that he worried I might be losing interest in him and our domestic existence. I therefore took it upon myself to surprise him.
He returned home one Wednesday, the day of his late seminar with his graduate students, to find me lying in wait. I had shed my usual practical jumper/sweats ensemble to appear beguiling, enticing the moment he laid eyes on me. I wasn't altogether certain howone in my position should dress; Ivo and I led such a secret existence. I had never seen any other homosexual couples, at least ones who were "out". I stripped to ragged-hemmed jeans, held up by a Wild West sort of brown leather belt. The rest of me I left bare, save the dog collar around my neck – a statement of my place in his household. Ivo took one look at me and could barely suppress his laughter. "Our Lady of the Flowers, I presume?" he asked, his mouth twitching. "All dressed up for the rent boys' ball?"
Oh, he could scorn me all he wanted. What a tongue he had in those days. But we both knew then he was my absolute servant. He didn't even bother with the niceties. He dropped his coat and briefcase hastily and succumbed entirely to lust, taking me then and there in the hallway.