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1220 Much Loved

About Toon

  • Rank
    Sex Addict
  • Birthday 04/13/1967

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  • Gender
  • Location
    Suburban Kansas City
  • Interests
    Books, 90's music, zombie movies, rocks, fossils & minerals, paranormal stuff,
  • HIV Status
    Neg, Recently Tested
  • Role
    Versatile Bottom
  • Background
    Midwestern laidback dude with a good brain. Professional, casual,sane.
  • Porn Experience
  • Looking For
    Verbal, aggressive guys who mostly like to top. Poz guys, bearded and hairy guys, and men who like to called "Sir".

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  1. Pt. 2 is here: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION Ray escorted me up the back stairway while carrying his clothes. "I think you might want an enema now. There's a special hose in your bathroom that Kevin will teach you how to use." Really? Just the word made me uneasy. Kevin was already awake when I went into our room. "Well? How was it?" "How was what?" "Getting fucked by Ray. You need to drop the innocent act pretty soon." He was already mad at me for some reason. "Hot. He sure knows what he's doing." "Uh huh." "He wants me to use the enema hose or whatever. How do I do that?" "I need it too - you can watch me. It ain't glamorous, but it's part of this." I won't describe what I watched Kevin do. I sat on the toilet and tried to act like this was most normal thing in the world. "So is this party going to be all gay guys?" "Mostly. There are usually some women for the bi guys and for Earl. You won't see Rhoda, but you will see some sort of famous people. Be casual...unless they want you to know of them. It's tricky." "Ray says I'm going to be getting a tattoo? What's that about?" "Shit. I kinda forgot to tell you about that part. He wants us to mark us both with an 'R'...like on the rings." "No way." "Yeah. It's his trademark. Almost everybody in his life gets the same tat. It's small and you can get it somewhere discrete like on your ankle or something. Watch enough gay porn videos and most of them have an 'R' ink somewhere. I guess if he's gonna let us live here, we'll have to do it. Don't worry about picking out something to wear...no clothes allowed at the party. You can wear one of those white robes on the bed. Most people go barefoot as well, but I usually wear sandals because I don't want to get athlete's foot in addition to everything else." 'Everything else' worried me somewhat. Ray's sex basement was a lot like Kevin's, only bigger and grander. I guess I expected to just see a pile of naked bodies. but no actual fucking was happening yet. Ray and Earl were tending bar and that seemed to be where most of the action was, people sucking down the fantastic booze and making small talk. It could almost be any cocktail party in the world except that everybody was wearing the same white robes. Ray saw us and made two people get up from their stools to make room for us. "The guest of honor is here!" We sat and were served some kind of red drink that smelled like cherries. "Drink up and try not to look so Kansas." "Anybody famous here?" "John Travolta is around here somewhere, but the real talk of the town is the new star over at the end of the bar. Jeff Stryker. Mostly straight, that one. But I've seen him in action and he really does seem to enjoy men. I'll introduce you later. Oh...we've got our first couple going at it." Sure enough - there was some fucking going on right there on the carpeting. I couldn't see much because a crowd of onlookers surrounded them. "This is how it always begins. Peter North fucks some guy or gal within the first 20 minutes and then everybody goes at it. Go watch if you want," I stayed put and made small talk with Earl who was helping Ray behind the bar. She'd put on makeup and it really didn't do much to make her look for feminine, but at least she is a good enough mood to be somewhat friendly. "I was asked by someone about you. Too bad the drinks are free because he would have bought you one." "Who? Who is it??"f "Calm down. I can't rat him out, but right now he's pretty close...within five feet. If you moved to your right a little, you'd be getting warmer." He was probably sitting at the bar too. I wasn't cool enough to act casual as I openly checked out the other guests nearby. There was Tony who I'd just met but there was also Dick. Both of them were looking at me and smiling. I couldn't read anything definite in either pair of eyes. Dick wasn't wearing his glasses so maybe he didn't even know who was looking at. I wasn't sure what to do. but being shy didn't make any sense. I was attending an orgy after all. So I swallowed the rest of my drink and went over to sit with them. "Hey Scout!" Tony invited me to take a seat between the two of them. "We were just talking about you." "Oh yeah?" "Actually we were talking about bondage too...how neither of us were all that interested in it." "Same here." "But about the Spider Man stuff we heard about? When you were a kid?" "No. I was young and playing around with my neighbor. It wasn't about sex at all." "Everything is about sex, kid. Even at that age." This wasn't an argument I wanted to get into. All childhood games could probably be sexual if you tried hard enough. The phrase 'Tag. You're it.' went through my mind. "Maybe so. Who's ready for another round?" They both nodded and I signaled Earl to set us up. "Where's your fellow Kansan? I hear he likes to get head. Cock sucking is about all I'm up for tonight." "I don't know. He seemed kind of moody earlier, so maybe he left. Who knows." "Well, I promised Kelly I'd leave you two talk alone for a bit. I'm off to hunt down a suck-able prick. Ta!" And Tony left me alone with the guy who I only knew as 'Dick'. I guess his real name was 'Kelly'." 'Tony' probably wasn't his real name either. "Alone at last," Kelly/Dick said as Earl brought the fresh drinks over. "If Tony likes to suck dick so much, why didn't you let him suck yours?" "He has before. Before we became good friends. I'm only good for one load a night and I want to save it for someone special." "Just one?" I was amazed by that. He was a porn star for Christ's sake! "Yeah. My health isn't so great these days." Uh oh. "My back hurts all the time and I get one cold after another. I never had a single cold the whole time I was growing up in Texas. California is full of bugs...of every kind." "Have you seen a doctor?" "Not yet. So what did Ray tell you about me." I really didn't want to repeat what I'd heard already. "Very little." "Tell me." I was trapped. "Well, he did mention that you had a hard time keeping a boner." I didn't see the point in lying now. From what I gathered, everybody talked shit about everybody. "Don't take that to mean I have an issue down there. It's just the business, man. I mean -- There's a crew of strangers with equipment and bright lights and the guy you're fucking doesn't even like you or want to talk to you. AND he looks exactly like the last guy you fucked. I know I'm only having filmed sex is because my dick is so big." "But you have so many fans! Doesn't that tell you something?" "Fans of my penis, maybe. It's hard to keep an erection when that's all you are." I guess he had a point. I thought about telling him how much I was addicted to Kevin's dick and it was nothing special, but I didn't want to think about him right now. "But that's not all you are." "Thanks. Whoa...looks like the party is heating up." He gestured over my shoulder and sure enough, many robes had been discarded and bare asses were everywhere. I saw some jiggling boobs that were obviously 'enhanced'. Not many visible cocks because they were all buried in mouths or holes. Not a condom in sight. I turned away and looked back at Dick. His features were fine as they were. Handsome. "So if you don't like fucking in front of strangers, why are you here tonight?" "I haven't been here for a long time, but then I found out you were going to be here. The famous Scout. Ray said he thought you and I 'had chemistry'." Suddenly Ray approached us. "You need to go talk to Kevin! He puked in my bathroom and it's way too early for that shit. Earl is pissed as hell too. I sent him to bed. If you want to sleep in another room tonight, go to one of the two opposite yours. You can even bring a friend if you wish." He winked at Dick and walked away. "Does your Kansas friend have a drinking problem?" "Probably. I might too, but my tolerance level is insanely high." "Not me. It doesn't mix well with pain pills. If you drink on some of them, your brain can forget to tell your lungs to breathe. I'm fine with club soda for now." I glanced back at the action. Jeff Stryker was fucking some guy doggy-style but was clearly wearing a condom. Some redhead woman was watching with pure hunger in her eyes. She obviously had a thing for this up and coming 'star'. Nice ass. "He's kind of an asshole." Dick had obviously noticed who I was watching. "At least that's what I've heard. He won't kiss a man on the mouth." "What about the other guy...Peter North?" "He's a definite asshole. He's mostly done straight porn, but he'll fuck any hole no matter who owns it. Gay porn pays men better than breeder porn does." "OK. I know it's the thing out here, but I'm not cool with trashing people behind their backs. I suffered for years because of mean gossip." "Sorry. You're right. I did too...Texas is maybe even worse than Kansas when it comes to verbal abuse." I decided right then and there that I wanted to have sex with this man. I let my hand wander over to his and let the heat of my touch do the talking. "Want to go somewhere upstairs?" "Yes. I do, but I want you to have a true orgy experience first. Do you mind if I just watch you mix it up with the crowd a little? It'll help inspire me." Huh? I had already decided I wanted him and now he wanted me to go fool around? "I don't know how to do these things. I've never done anything with someone I don't know." "Start letting your dick do the thinking. I'll get you a shot first...Hey Earl!" There was a shot of whiskey before me now. I drained it in a gulp and waited to get horny for anonymous sex. "Maybe this will inspire you..." Dick opened his robe and revealed his monstrously big dick. There was nothing soft about it. "One kiss, and then you have to go get it on." I bent down and gave a tender kiss to the over-sized head. I tasted the salty pre-cum even after the shot of whiskey. OK. U was ready. Jeff Stryker was already gone. There was a pile of bodies writhing and I just let myself fall among them. I kind of got twisted around a bit and ended up landing on my back. Some guy's naked ass was a pillow under my head. How embarrassing! I just turned over and started kissing some stranger's butt cheeks. He'd shaved his butt because I could feel stubble on my tongue. I don't know why I loved that so much. I wondered if he even knew who was rimming him because he was so busy fucking some guy whose legs were flailing around either side of my head. I remember reading an article about AIDS prevention that advised people not to brush their teeth before a 'date' so you wouldn't have any tiny abrasions in your mouth. Any kind oh opening to your bloodstream is a way for the virus to get in, but I guess it was already too late to worry about that now. Just as I'd finally gotten up the nerve to dip my tongue into the guy's crack, somebody grabbed my shoulders and hoisted me upright. "Hey -- Spider Man is here to rescue you!" Huh. I turned around and looked at some dude who was an inch shorter than me and Ray's age or maybe older. He looked the part of a 70's porn star. Broad hairy chest and a somewhat sleazy mustache. He even had a gold chain on. I have to say that he was appealing because everybody else here was so shaved, waxed and mannequin-like. "Recognize me? No, I'm probably a little before your time. I still work but not as much as I used to." I didn't admit to not knowing who he was so I just reached and touched his chest fur. "Hi. I'm Dennis." "Yeah. I know all about you, Scout. Would you lick my ass too? It's been so long since anybody's rimmed me. I'm strictly a top and it seems that only bottoms are entitled to get their ass eaten...on film anyways. I never understood that." "I..uh...yeah. Why IS that?" "I dunno. Most bottoms like to be dominated and what's more dominating than sitting on some dude's face??" I really had nothing to add to this conversation because I'd only tasted my first butt thirty seconds ago. He was working his healthy-sized cock into a throbbing stiffy. "You like this?" I did. "Yeah, man. It's beautiful." "Come on. Let's find someplace where we can stretch out a little." Mr. Mustache guided me over to a corner where there was more space. He had been carrying his robe and was now turning it into a makeshift pillow. He lied down spread eagle and closed his eyes for a quick second. "Get down here." I didn't have access to his butt now so I just knelt between his legs and took his fat boner in my mouth. "Yeah...good boy. Get it nice and wet for us." He tasted of soap and a tiny bit of man funk. He had a huge bosh of dark brown pubes and more than a few stray hairs ended up in my mouth. His knees cracked as he got up on them and forcibly fed his dick to me. He was a little too eager and was going at a faster pace than I was used to...and his dick was so slick that it kept slipping from my mouth and leaving little trails of slime on both of my cheeks. No finesse. He let out a huff of air, obviously losing patience with my efforts. He pulled away, lied on his back again and lifted his legs. "Kiss that hole Scout." I went for it. I kissed and licked and made appreciative noises. I knew right then that I would always love doing this. The musk, the hair and just the idea of serving a man so shamelessly were all so intoxicating. "Wow. You better stop or I'll shoot right now. Lie down on your stomach. Want some poppers?" I knew what they were and there many bottles being passed around, but I'd just never felt like trying them. "No. But keep them handy." "Spread your legs a little. This is my favorite way to fuck." It hadn't occurred to me that he might be bisexual or even straight until right then. He allowed me to pleasure him in various ways but had made no attempt to touch me or even offer a kiss. Whatever. It's not like I was in any kind of position to make requests. "Damn, I'm still leaking all over the place from that rim job -- no fake lube required, Scout. Sorry I don't have any rope to tie your wrists together...I know you're into that." Goddammit. That Spider Man story had really gotten out of hand. It was just a stupid game! He was not seductive or teasing in the least...he just plowed right in. I lifted my head and groaned loudly, but I doubt anyone could hear me over the relentless fuck music coming from the speakers. I tried to just relax and enjoy what I could from this. He pumped recklessly and harshly. I'm glad my first time wasn't with him. I could see bare feet all around my limited scope of vision. Watchers. He didn't hesitate for even a second as he occasionally found that one little spot inside my ass that radiated pure pleasure. He lowered his mouth to my ear and started in with some dirty talk that could have been taken directly from a generic porn script. "Take that big dick! Yeah! I'm gonna cum in your tight little ass! You want that?" That mustache tickled my ear. This position wasn't so bad after all. Just as I was starting to enjoy myself, my top announced he was about to cum. He shivered and quaked as a rope of hot semen shot straight up my bowels where it would percolate and decide what to do next. "Thanks, man. Ray's got my number if you want to meet up again. I gotta go piss but you can come watch if you want." Uh...no. "Thanks, but I need to go clean up a little." "Cool. There's boxed of those moist wipes at the bar." And the he was gone. I wondered if Dick had seen the whole show and what he thought of it. I would have gone back to ask him but he wasn't there. Shit. Ray was sitting at the bar wiping his face with one of those wipes. I went and stood by him. He handed me the box of wet towelettes and I cleaned my ass. "Here. I saved your robe. Did you enjoy yourself with Glenn?" "I did. Where's Dick?" "Gone. Earl was telling me the reason before she got busy. Here she comes." Ray had a drop of cum on his right shoulder. "I brought you a beer...it'll hydrate you faster than a well drink." "So what happened to Dick?" "He wasn't feeling good. His back or something. I guess it was so bad that he had to take a pill and Ray put him up in one of the bedrooms. Probably not a good idea to join him...he's in no shape for sex." Was it selfish of me to be a little pissed off? "Poor guy. I was worried he didn't like seeing me be such a slut just now." Earl looked at me with an almost sympathetic expression. "That wasn't it at all. You want a little something to help you relax?" "No. I think I'm done here for the night. I need a shower and sleep." "That's probably a good idea. Ray set up a casting call for you tomorrow." "A what?" "Yeah. You're on the road to fame. Take these two Xanax tablets with you in case you need them and I'll see you in the morning." TO BE CONTINUED
  2. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION 2001 I'll skip the beginning, my personal history stuff and just get right to the part where I moved to Sun Crest Apartments during the Summer I turned 22. I had a semi-okay job and could finally afford to move out of my grandmother's house. I'm pretty sure I'd been to a party in this complex at some point and remember the units were clean and solidly built. It was one of those places that are built on The Holiday Inn blueprint. You know -- two stories of apartments with a long deck on the upper floor and wooden stairs separating the levels. The people on the bottom floor had little enclosed patios. I had my key and a car full of stuff. Grandma had bought me some furniture that wasn't due to be delivered for a few days. No big deal, I had a sleeping bag, a TV. my stereo and a microwave. I'd could "rough it" for a while. I was instantly aware of how cool all the cars were compared to mine. The second thing I noticed were the half-dozen or so men just leaning against the wood railing and watching me. They seemed friendly and I guess these were my neighbors. "Howdy!" Smiles all around. "Hey there! Are you moving into 208?" "Yep. I'm Josh." It was kind of odd to be introducing myself from down here. I never liked being watched or sized up. Invisibility was comfortable and would be my first choice for a super power. I started to unload my TV since that was the heaviest and everything else wouldn't be too hard to carry up stairs. Two of the watchers lumbered down to help me. "Nice TV. I'm Freddy by the way." He was probably in his late 20's/early 30's and looked like a big teddy bear in jean shorts and a baseball cap. He radiated friendly vibes. "I got this. I lug much heavier stuff for a living." He hoisted it chest level like it was nothing. The other guy was tall, skinny and distinctly Latin. "That's Ernie. He don't talk much. Grab the stereo stuff, Ernie." I grabbed a laundry basket full of clean clothes and quickly got upstairs so I could unlock the door. It was strangely unlocked already...either that or I did the key thing incorrectly. My car was unloaded in minutes. "Is this all you have? You're not making a second trip?" Freddy seemed amazed that I owned so little. "This is it for now. I've got some new furniture coming in a few days. I'm fine." "Yeah. You got that right. Well, we'll leave you to feather your nest or whatever. When you're done, come join us out on the porch." Ernie was studying my meager possessions and seemed to want to linger. Freddy left and Ernie quickly took my hand as if to shake it but just held it for a second. "Ernesto. Hello." He quickly exited and closed the door gently. I got the feeling he didn't speak much English. Well I plugged in the TV and stereo, laid out my sleeping bag on the newly carpeted floor and was pretty much done. I wasn't all that eager to go meet my neighbors because I wasn't entirely ready to be social right now. Poor Grandma. She asked me to call her when I got moved in but I'd completely forgotten to buy a phone. I'd never had to do that before. Phones were always just there. You know? I was not getting this whole 'being independent' thing off to a good start. Oh well. "There he is! That didn't take long." Freddy was the ambassador of the crew. "Have a beer. We're just here for the scenery. Tomorrow night there will be fireworks, but the amateurs shows already started a week a go." Oh yeah. It was July 3rd. "You should have been here on New Year's Eve last year...2000 and all." "Yeah. It was kinda cold I bet." Freddy handed me a can of Coors Light. Ewww...but I said 'thanks' anyway. "We kept warm." A few of the guys chuckled, and all I could offer was a smile. Another neighbor moved up to shake my hand. "I'm Edward. We usually make the new guy bring the beer, but we didn't even know the unit had been rented until this morning. That landlady is supposed to clear new people with us first, but you've passed the test...so far." Edward was a mixed-race guy with a body like Freddy's. "Are you even old enough to buy alcohol?" "Oh yeah. For over a year now." I noticed that most of the doors on this level had deck chairs in front. I guess I needed to buy one. Maybe that was one of the 'tests'. ? Another man who seemed closer to my age asked "You're gay, right?" Fucking hell! I'd only recently begun to admit that to myself but I guess it was apparent to this crowd. This gay crowd. Gays. I went from knowing none to knowing a whole community of them. "Yes. I am." Quick murmurs among the guys. "Shit, Jack...let the kid finish a beer first before you start in with all that." I'd stick close to Freddy for now because he seemed like the only grownup here. The Dad. "You don't have to answer any question you don't want to." Grandma was probably making pot roast right now and watching the news. It would be safer there with her. Her front porch had a swing and potted plants while mine had a bunch of gay guys who seemed a little pushy. I drained my beer and asked for another. I needed a buzz in the worst way. "Ooh! Rush Hour is over. Who's first tonight?" Some guy I couldn't see seemed to be waiting for some kind of game to start. Freddy put a thick arm around my shoulders and led me toward the stairs. "Hold on, Jeff. I'm going to show our new neighbor around first." I knew my way around this place already because the landlady showed me everything before I signed the lease. The laundry room, the pool, my assigned parking spot, etc. "So you guys are waiting for a game to start? Like 'Simon Says'?" Freddy laughed. "Not exactly. Let me ask you something...why did you move to this particular place?" "It's close to work and not far from my grandmother who is pretty much the only family I have. And plus I could afford the rent." "So you haven't heard any stories about us? We're known in some circles." "Known for what?" I'd moved into some sort of adventure without knowing it. "You smoke? Want a cigarette? It's a complicated story." I'd never smoked in my life, but it seemed like a good idea at this moment. "You're sounding nervous, Freddy." "It's like this. All of us on the second floor are gay. It just sort of happened. We hung out at the pool and on the porch, and some of us hooked up a few times. It was all very friendly and casual. It didn't take long before we realized we all had things in common....we all had bad relationship experiences and we were all HIV positive. Some recent, some not-so-recent. Still with me, Josh?" "Yeah." Fucking hell. I wasn't expecting to hear anything like this. "Well...we started a contest/game or whatever you want to call it. We, uh, began to entice delivery boys, joggers or just random strolling guys up to join our party. The goal was to fuck them raw and convert them. We called the game different things: 'Poz the Pizza Boy', 'AIDS Outreach', 'Virus Victim Roulette'. Now we don't call it anything. It's just what we do for fun. Tell me what you're thinking?" Uh. "I think that's kind of awful, Freddy." I wanted to be watching a bad Lifetime movie with Gran right now, with the door locked. He took my hand in his hairy paw. "It is, isn't it? I know. I'm being honest with you. You don't have to do anything you don't want to...nobody will rape you or anything. I'll make sure of that." I was in way over my head. "So this game starts after rush hour?" "Usually. It's a holiday weekend now, so it's 'round the clock. The guy who's gone the longest without sex gets first turn. After that, we wait to see who the potential victim fancies most. We're not sure if Ernie has ever pozzed anyone because he really doesn't know much English. He's got a lesion above his right eyebrow." "Ernesto." "Yeah. I think he likes you. Speak Spanish at all?" "I know a little. I took it in high school but cheated on all the tests because my friend Becky was an assistant in the office and could get me all the answers beforehand." Becky. I wondered where she was now. "I don't know his whole story...I haven't even seen his dick yet." "Do you drug these guys first?" "NO. That's against the rules. Actually, I have no idea what the others do behind closed doors. I've never done that. There's kind of an unspoken rule that says we're not allowed to stealth either." "Stealth?" "God, you're so green. That's when you make the bottom guy think you have a condom on, but you either take it off mid-fuck or you tear it." That was heinous. Ugh. "Some guys do that pretty regularly." "Do you?" "I won't say I've never done it, but..." "WHY? I mean - did you ever stop to think that the reason you've never had a successful relationship is because you do stuff like that? What if you met Mr. Right one day?" "I gave up on that years ago. Look at me." I couldn't look at him right now. "I've already seen you, Fred." "Then you know what an ugly guy I am. I'm past 30, overweight, drink too much -- and I have the ugliest feet in the world. They're size 12 and completely flat. You should see the footprints I leave at the side of the pool...no arch at all." "Nobody looks at feet, Freddy...and the rest of you is fine as it is. Maybe you'd have a life partner by now if you weren't playing games." "That's a sweet thought, buddy. It's too late for romance now. But you're young and healthy and nice -- you could actually have a boyfriend. Look, I'll talk to Lydia and she'll let you out of the lease. This might not be the right place for you." "I'll be fine. Sorry if I upset you." "You didn't. So you really think I'm fine as I am? Physically?" "Oh hell yes. I'm not crazy about where your head is at right now, but otherwise, I think you're a catch." I had to be careful not to let him think I was somehow flirting now. I'd known people who took compliments as invitations. "Wow. We've walked a long way. There's empty apartments in this area...want to go in one...just for a few minutes?" "How? You have a key?" "No, but I know how to open locks around here. Come on." No. No. No. He was rubbing his crotch and I think he thought I wanted him. "Not right now. I need a beer." "Yeah, OK. But can I kiss you first?" Jesus, really? "Absolutely." And then he gave me a stubbly, coarse kiss on the mouth. It was my first kiss. I agreed to it so as to not get him mad. Maybe I'd go sleep at Grandma's house tonight. Let's go. It's getting dark and I need a beer too." We made it back up to the deck and everybody was still there, smoking cigarettes and drinking beer. That guy I recall was named 'Jeff' spoke up first. "Enjoy giving him the 'tour', Freddy?" General whispers from the group. "Nah. He turned me down. Just leave him be for now." Fuck this guy. Ernie was instantly by my side with a fresh beer. "Gracias." He smiled shyly and I looked above his eye to see if I could see the lesion Freddy told me about. I couldn't tell in the dying light. "I ordered a few pizzas. Mario's has a whole bunch of new delivery boys. I expect you all to chip in." It was Edward talking. "We'll get a look at him first," Freddy answered "Sometime's Mario hires boys who are legal to drive but not to fuck." "Well, Ben wanted Chinese because of his thing for Asians, but they sometimes send girls." "Any joggers come by?" Freddy seemed to have completely forgotten about me. "That cute Italian guy ran by but he had headphones on and couldn't hear us call out." It was night and various fireworks shot into the moonless sky. Nothing too impressive. The pizzas were delivered by some kid who wasn't the least bit interested in hanging out. Ernie was still next to me. He had cologne on and it smelled very nice combined with his sweat. Sexy. God, I wish I could remember a few Spanish phrases. Freddy was chatting with various guys in the group -- no doubt telling him what a wet blanket I was. Whatever. I'd drink a few more beers and then go to bed...with the door locked and the chain secured. Ernesto was only too happy to fetch me free beers. I could feel a major buzz coming on. He smelled so good. It would really piss Freddy off if I flirted with this handsome guy. "Como estas esta noche?" I had no idea if I said that right. He flashed a dazzling white smile. "Fine and well." He moved closer and I could feel all eyes on us. Some drunk frat guy stumbled by and Edward called out to him. "Are you lost?" "Do you know where Brice lives?" He was wobbling and confused. "Yeah. I'll show you." Edward was down the stairs in a flash. "Come this way." They went off into the darkness. And so it had begun. I just didn't get it. Ed was good-looking enough to snag a normal boyfriend...all of them were. I drained my beer and gave Ernie a good-night hug. "Disfrutar." I think I said 'enjoy', but probably mangled it. "No. Not me. Have the good night now." I turned on the AC on 'high' to drown out the sounds of the party and slept with the TV on. Maybe I should break the lease. I totally missed the 2001 Independence Day because I didn't want to join that group. I liked Ernesto, but he had AIDS...or the start of it. I'd gone to Target early in the morning to buy a telephone. I called Grandma as soon as everything was connected. "Sorry I didn't call sooner, Gran. I forgot to bring my phone from the bedroom." "Thank goodness you called now! I was so worried about you for some reason. I hardly slept a wink. The firecrackers didn't help. I'm turning off my hearing aid tonight and hoping to God one of those bottle rockets doesn't land on my roof and set the whole place on fire. How do you like the new place?" "I don't. I made a mistake moving here." "Well come home then. I'll pay whatever you need to get out of there." Just then somebody knocked on my door and then tried to turn the knob. Freddy. "I think I need to leave soon." I let the sob in my throat be audible. "Tonight? Your room is all ready and I put a new air freshener in there." "Not tonight. It'll be crazy out there with all the fireworks and parades and stuff." "Whatever you think is best. The key is still under the cement turtle. It'll be so good to have you back, Josh!" "Thanks, Gran. Don't forget to take your pills in an hour." And it was settled. I'd forget this whole experience and pretend people like this didn't exist. Except...except Ernie. I'd miss him a little, I guess. My lunch and dinner consisted of the awesome cookies Grandma had sent with me. I watched a million dumb movies on TV and flinched every time somebody knocked on my door or tried the knob. I was pretty sure I'd made it clear to Freddy that I wanted no part of this crap. My mistake was saying anything nice to him and kissing him. I'd take it all back if I could. To add to my unease were the random booms and pops of pyrotechnics in the sky. What a wretched holiday. I drifted off to sleep despite the noise. Sometime around 4 in the morning there was another knock. For fuck sake, didn't he ever give up? The knock was softer and the doorknob didn't jostle. "Josh. Sleeping?" It was Ernie. Maybe Freddy had put him up to this and was waiting to pounce as soon as I unchained the lock. Fuck it. I had access to 911 now. I opened the door and there was Ernesto wearing nothing but a pair of red boxers. "Sorry for wake. Can I see you this a few seconds? "Entrar." "Thank. Is scared?" "Que?" He scanned his brain for words. "Is scared come out?" He seemed to want to know why I didn't join the crowd last night. My Spanish was exhausted and I was still woozy from sleep. "No. Just tired. I don't know much Spanish. I'm sorry." "No. Fine. I was am worried for you." "Thanks. You're a nice guy...and you look great in underwear." He really did. The only light in the room was from the mute TV screen. I openly stared at his nearly nude body. He liked that. "How was tonight's party?" He shrugged and then looked down at my sleeping bag. "Camping?" "Sort of. I was just using it as a mattress tonight because it's too warm to get inside. I've had this thing since I was nine years old." I had no idea if he understood any of what I was saying. He walked over to my AC unit and switched it 'maximum cool'. ?? "Time for camp." The pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together. He wanted to get in the sleeping bed with me, He also had a very visible boner beneath his boxers. I moved closer and touched it ever-so-gently. "Nice." He wrapped his arms around me. "You suck?" Well, I'd gotten my first kiss out of the way...time to give my first blow job. I knelt down at his feet and pulled the boxer shorts down. Ernie's dick shot straight up, almost reaching his navel. Thick black pubic hair framed the meat beautifully. I kissed it before I could have any second thoughts. "So nice!" he said over the roar of the air conditioner. "More." I couldn't speak much Spanish but it turns out that a was a natural-born cocksucker. I gagged a little but was savoring the feeling of a throbbing, hot penis in my mouth. The flavors and the smells must have short-circuited my brain because I had concerns about his status or his lesions or anything like that. Nothing mattered except for his cock. The room was getting cold and we both had goosebumps. "Inside for camping, Josh. OK?" I unzipped the bag and gestured for him to get in with me. He was a little tall for it, but we fit together nicely. I was completely horny yet still appreciative of the coziness. "Fuck?" "Yes. I'd like that, Ernie." "Good." He got on top of me and I felt his leaking cock head move down my stomach and between my legs. I knew what pre-cum was but hardly ever produced it myself. Ernesto seemed to make a lot of it. Dude was oozing. "Is ready?" I was. I think. I'd never once thought my virginity would be taken by a poz man inside of a sleeping bag. Maybe I'd seen too many soap operas and romantic movies with Grandma, but I thought everything would be softly-lit and traditional. Whatever...this seemed exactly right to me now. It burned like a motherfucker when his dick first snaked its way into my ass. I didn't yell out, just breathed in and looked up at him. I finally saw the lesion above his eyebrow in the flickering TV light. I reached up and touched it softly with my fingertip. It was slightly raised and I swear I felt a snap of electricity from it. I had just read a book about a guy who could magically heal people just by touching them. He'd take in their pain or illness inside of him and then disperse it. I wanted that kind of power now. I don't know what my facial expression was saying, but Ernie looked at me like his heart was breaking. I didn't want him to stop now that my hole was getting used to his dick's invasion. I reached down and held his tiny butt, pulling him in deeper. That was all the encouragement he needed. He bucked and thrust like a pro. I winced occasionally as the pain bit a few times. The feelings of pleasure were beginning to take me to new places. It was a sensation of being filled and being mastered by this man. Despite the coldness of the room, Ernie's face was sweating and a drop of it hung to one of his eyelashes. I'll never forget that tiny detail. His eyes were closed but mine were wide open and that famous purple sore on his forehead was my focus, its glowing beauty. He grunted and let loose a few volleys of poison semen inside of me. No going back from here. He lied his damp body down on top of mine, exhausted. I remember a 'safe sex' commercial on TV that ended with "Sex...It's not worth dying for." But it was! Oh man, was it ever. We slept off and on for the next few hours as the sun came up. He finally pulled away and said "I better get back before any of them see me come out of your apartment." "What? How...?" He smiled shyly. "How did I suddenly learn to speak English so well?" "Well, yeah. What's the deal?" "I don't know exactly why I started to pretend I couldn't. Shyness, maybe. It was easier to pretend I didn't understand the language when I first moved in. I didn't have to make small talk and I could listen in on everything going on like I wasn't there." I guess I understood that. "But..." I had so many questions, but nothing was forming. "I hope you decide to stay here with us. Freddy is all worried that you want to get out of your lease because of him or because you're scared of AIDS. I knew that you were just a little freaked out is all. " "Freddy is a predator." "Not really. He's just insecure and tries to overcompensate. We all have something in our bloodstream that makes us feel inferior to regular people. Maybe this whole poz party thing is a way to take ownership of the diagnosis. I'm not a psychiatrist, but that's my theory." "Makes sense. I guess I really do belong to the group now." He shrugged. "Maybe, but it's not certain. It can take a few times." He hugged me and left in the early morning light. I switched off the air conditioner and smelled the air. So much gunpowder was in the atmosphere that the world smelled like it was burning. It started to rain while I was in the shower. It always seems to storm on July 5th. Maybe the clouds were pissed off at having been shot so many times. Cloud seeding. Much to Grandma's dismay, I didn't move out. I joined the party. Freddy and I made peace and even fucked up a few times. I eventually hooked up with every single one of my neighbors,but never once made it with an unsuspecting delivery guy. Not my thing. Ernie and I talked a lot in private, but never in front of the group. This was my community now and that's why I still live in #208. END
  3. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION Pt. 1 is here: By the end of August, I was having some second thoughts about actually going out to L.A. and living with a man who had molested Kevin and regularly held orgies in his house. It didn't exactly seem ideal. I was pretty happy at home now that Kevin and I were regularly fooling around and spending our time being bums. He rarely fucked me because he mainly just loved getting head. I liked doing it too...even though it never lasted very long and I had to beat off to the memory of it later. Kevin seemed fine with delaying plans as well. So of course I read as much as I could about the AIDS virus. Our stupid little town had a pretty decent library that had always smelled the same. I religiously read all the news magazines, specifically to know what the early symptoms were. It was in a Newsweek that I read that you can have it and not test positive for HIV for up to a year. I wondered if Kevin really had it and if he'd really taken the test. Why lie about something like that. "Where did you get the AIDS test?" We were lying out in Kevin's backyard in order to get good tans. The lawn sprinkler was occasionally spraying us from a few yards away. "Holton. They got a free clinic there and you don't even have to give your real name. Why? You worried?" "I'm just wondering. Did you get it from Uncle Ray?" "Probably. It was from somebody I had sex with that night. You can get it from any kind of contact which is why I told you that everyone will have it in a few years. Even Reagan." "I guess." "If it bothers you, I'll go with you to the clinic. There's a tanning place on the same street. We need to get darker before we even think about showing up in California." "Sure." "You should probably start working out a little too. It's all about looks out there. Does your dad still have a weight bench?" My dad quit drinking for five days back in 1980 and he got into this whole fitness thing. The weight equipment was dusty but still like new. Kevin and I both used it for the next month. I really got into it...and I always got horned up watching my buddy lifting and sweating in just his skimpy gym shorts. Often we would get all sweaty and start making out. It was during one of those occasions that I asked him to fuck me again. "Can't. Ray made me promise to let your hole tighten up before he has a chance at it. We can go upstairs and I'll let you swallow my nut." "Sure, but didn't you say he didn't want me to be a virgin?" "Yeah. 'Virginity' is more mental than anything else. It just takes one fuck, and you're never the same again." I guess he was probably right about that although it sounded like he was quoting somebody. Ray probably. I liked Kevin, but he was never known to have many original thoughts. What he did have was a scrotum full of tasty cum. I always let it stay in my mouth as long as possible because the flavor was similar to sweet herbal tea. He knew I could never get enough of his loads. The Summer of '85 really overstayed its allotted time on the calendar. The hot, pretty days lasted well into late October. Kevin and I decided to stick it out in Kansas until after Christmas. I'm the one who said that we needed a definite date to leave or else we'd just keep putting it off. Jan. 8th was THE DAY. We decided to drive there instead of fly because Kevin loved his car and it was way better than mine. "Ray was like seven cars -- you won't need that dusty clunker." The thought of driving in L.A. scared the fuck out of me but that was kinda low on the list of my worries about this major life change. Winter limped into the Midwest at last and I finally told my parents that I was moving to the coast to pursue acting and also that Kevin was going with me. I actually had to tell them several times because they were always so drunk and had developed memory problems. They seemed vaguely supportive. My sister, however, was wildly enthusiastic...and jealous. Janice wanted out of this town so badly. "But why is Kevin going? He's an idiot with no skills." "We're going to stay with his uncle and figure it out from there." We were sharing gin and tonics in her room while the parents were passed out downstairs. I'd hoped we could finally start talking again. "OK. Just don't addicted to drugs and don't catch AIDS." "Don't get pregnant. And stop sleeping around with married guys." She looked at me like I'd slapped her. "Who? ...oh...Kevin. I don't do that anymore. I've decided to apply to K State and join a sorority. I'm only going to date rich guys after I get there." Well, I guess we both had some pretty iffy goals in life. 1986, Los Angeles, California We only got lost about a hundred times upon reaching the outskirts of L.A. I was flat out amazed at how HUGE this city was. It felt like we drove through so many separate areas. Kevin kept saying 'This looks familiar. I know where we are now.' After arriving at Ray's house on the beach, I was only about 50% sure I had made a good decision to come here. When I got out of the car I stretched and felt revitalized by the warm ocean air. This was obviously a wealthy area and I didn't see one car that wasn't worth ten times as much as the one I just got out of. Fucking hell -- this was the most Not Kansas place I'd ever been. "Well! My farm boys finally made it! I expected you hours ago and had to cancel brunch with Valerie Harper. Poor dear has made so many failed pilots." Ray was so obviously not really related to Kevin. First of all he was dark, hairy and possibly Greek. I would have guessed his age at about 40. He was wearing a tiny blue speedo and had a tad too much gold jewelry on. While Kevin made excuses I thought about the two of them having sex. Pictured it. "Rhoda? You know Rhoda??" I can't believe what a dumb hick I sounded like. "Oh my! You must be the famous Dennis! So cute! Well, you look positively native already with the tan and white-blonde hair. Hmm. Come on inside...Earl will collect your things and bring them in." I was guessing that 'Earl' was a butler or valet or something. The house was amazing. It smelled like an expensive candle and everything looked stylish and new. "I wasn't sure whether you two wanted to share a room or be separate. I'm ready either way." "We'll share for now. Dennis and I get along really well and I also need to fill him in on a few things." I was not consulted. Kevin and Ray started a private whisper conversation...probably about how clueless I was. Oh well. "Go freshen up and change. There's new clothes and shoes for each of you. It's almost happy hour." Huh? "Don't worry, Dennis. Kevin filled me in on all your sizes...all of them, ha ha." Kevin was oddly quiet the whole time we were getting ready. It turns out 'Earl' was a muscular dyke who had a permanent scowl. We gathered in the living room which was the size of a football field. I was giving off strong mental suggestion to Kevin that he say something, anything. "Where are we going, Uncle Ray?" My telepathy worked. "Just round the bend to Tommy B's. We can order appetizers there too -- if you're hungry. I bet you're hungry." "Yeah, but is that such a good place to take Dennis on his first day here?" Ray gave him a look. "This is L.A., Angel Pie. Things move fast and none of us live forever. We have hours to kill before anybody gets here. Go change and don't question me any more. Go!" Despite that moment of tension, I was strangely excited. Kevin kept his eyes down as we went upstairs. The road fatigue was erased and I was in a good mood despite the weirdness and cryptic clues being dropped everywhere. What was Tommy B's all about? Who was coming over? Was it a party? An orgy? "Well, Ray has good taste in clothes at least. This shirt will look good on you." It was a bright peacock blue. "The bathroom is right there. Just take a mini-shower ...watch your ass and dick and your pits. Your hair is fine. There's like a jillion colognes on the dresser." Once we got downstairs, Ray was at hos own personal bar making cocktails. I admitted to myself that he looked sexy as fuck. Maybe it was the danger or take-charge attitude I was responding to. I was drawn to that in Kevin. "Hey boys. Why aren't you wearing any of the new jewelry I bought especially for you?" "I didn't see it, Ray. I'll go get it now." "Forget it. You both have that 'fresh off the farm' look. No wait, go get the rings at least. Hurry up before your drink gets warm." Kevin scurried away, leaving me alone with Uncle Ray. I wanted a drink in the worst way. "You look good in blue, Dennis. Perfect...although I meant that shirt for Kevin. Blue is your color." "You have a beautiful house, Ray. What do you do?" "Oh my God! You Midwestern Protestants always ask that right away. I'm an investor, movie producer and dabble in publishing. I understand you want to be an actor -- well you know somebody now." Kevin returned with two gold rings with the initial 'R' on top. "I had to guess the sizes. Just put them on any finger that they fit best on. Right hand please." They both fit perfectly on our ring fingers. Of course. "Why the right hand, Ray?" Kevin shot me a quick look. "Oh, just add that to the list of questions I'll answer once I've had more cocktails." A horn honked somewhere outside."The car is here, boys. I'm using my service tonight because too much traffic makes my chest hairs turn gray." This Tommy B's was typically nice and reeked of the California attitude you could practically see in the air. No women...it was obviously a gay bar. "Act bored and don't take anything anybody gives you. Stay close." Kevin seemed way more nervous than I was. People cleared from a table Ray wanted to sit at. Drinks were served and I never once asked what they were. I had the alcoholic's genes from both sides. Whatever. Nobody lives forever anyway. "So...Dennis. Any nicknames?" "None I'd want. I was called lots of nasty names in high school. Right, Kevin?" I was still carrying around my personal demons. "Oh it never stops, does it? He told me about your performance in the Charlie Brown play. I'm so sorry. It was worse in my generation. I thought the 60's would change everything, but then Reagan happened." He ordered us another round even though none of us had even gotten halfway through the first. He wanted to get me drunk and I wanted to let him do just that. Kevin left to go use the bathroom. "Can I sit next to you, Ray?" "Of course, pet. Does this place scare you?" "Not especially. Why?" "Well -- it's full of working boys and they're sizing you up now. New face and whatnot." I looked around and nobody was looking at me. I sat next to my host and smelled the sophisticated sex fumes he was releasing. I let my shoulder touch his. "You need to drink faster, Scout." I guess 'Scout' was my new nickname. It was better than 'Faggot' I guess. "What is Valerie Harper like? I always liked the 'Rhoda' show." "I'll tell you as soon as you give this a squeeze." He guided my hand to the monster hard-on he's let loose from his khaki shorts. I gave it a loving grip and then put my fingers to my lips. "So soft and gentle...I bet your asshole can clench tighter than that. Here comes Kevin." He didn't look happy to see me sitting next to Ray. "Scout was just asking me about Ms. Harper." "Scout?" "Yes. He's adventurous and prepared for anything. Valerie is so full of stories about just everyone in this town. She wants another series which has eluded her lately. She won't do game shows or even TV movies. She's a fighter -- like most Jews." "Maybe we should go now, Ray." "Darling, it's early! Just keep drinking and don't ruin the fun." Ray's leg moved against mine. We drank and our glasses were never empty. Kevin eventually lightened up, After a few more swallows of whatever this was. He started to talk recklessly like he always did when he was drunk. "Can you nickname me 'Spider Man'? Kevin is weirdly into that guy. We used to play around in his backyard..." His train of thought petered out. "You told me all this. Remember? I might end up calling you 'Spidey' if you behave tonight. Scout hasn't made the rounds yet. I need to see him interact with strangers." Kevin shot me an apologetic look. "The rounds?" "Yes. It's a rite of passage. Go walk around and talk to people. Finish the drink and wander into the crowd." OK. I drained the glass and just went and shuffled among all the pretty men. I'd never been to a single party in high school, but that was a whole other lifetime. I locked eyes with a dark-complected guy with a neat, fussy beard. "Can I bum a cigarette from you?" He smirked. "Just get off the bus from Alabama?" It was a mocking tone and I should have moved on but he handed me a smoke. "Is my accent that strong? I'm new in town, but from Kansas. Same thing, I guess." "Nah. You actually don't have any accent at all but you look fresh from the heartland. I'm Tony." He offered his hairy hand to shake. "Dennis." "Ray showing you the sights?" "This is my first sight, actually. He's watching us right now." "I see. You're 'making the rounds', huh?" "Huh? Why?" "I used to be one of his crew. I have the same ring you do. I'm going to laugh now -- to show him how entertaining you are." And then he held his head back and did just that. "You don't wear the ring now?" "No. Do you recognize me?" He looked 'famous', but I had to sadly admit that I hadn't seen him in anything. "Were you in 'Tron'?" Tony laughed genuinely this time. "Not that I remember. I am in porn under the name 'Tom Harding'. Ray has produced everything I've ever been in. We're still 'old school' and don't use condoms....even though most studios do now. It's a joke. Guys can wrap up their dicks, but nobody watches what they do off-camera. You can get a clean test one minute and then infected the next." He had a valid point. "Is the money good?" "Not bad if you bottom without protection. The real money is made...on the side." I nodded as if I knew what he meant. "So you don't care about diseases?" "Hell no. Everybody on Earth is going to have AIDS in a year or two." That sounded awfully familiar. "I've been monopolizing you for too long. You need to move on. See that tall guy leaning against the jukebox? Go up and tell him you're a big fan. His name is Dick Masters and he is the nicest guy ever. Ray will like you two meeting because he's going to be at the 'gathering' tonight. Don't let him fuck you though. His dick is giant and you won't poop for three years." "OK. Should I buy him a drink?" Tony bit his lower lip and searched his brain. "He's not a drinker or a smoker. Just offer him a shot of Jack. Here, I'll order it. I'm on Ray's tab tonight. About seven guys here are." I approached the famous 'Dick' and worked my face into a look of awe. He was very tall but his body seemed made of tiny bones somehow. He also squinted as if nearsighted. "Hi! I'm a huge fan of yours!" His face brightened and I offered him the shot. I made my eyes not look at his crotch. "Wow. Thanks. What movies have you seen?" Shit! I needed a somewhat vague answer. "I can't remember the name, but you had glasses on." He knew which one I'd insinuated and smiled again. "I'm so glad you said that! I can hardly see anything without them." He reached into his shirt pocket and put on his wire-framed glasses. "Wow. So much better. They wanted me to get contacts, but they were too much of a pain. You look like a kid -- are you old enough to drink?" "Apparently. I'm Dennis by the way." "Oh. 'Scout'. Everybody knows you already. What exactly makes you a fan of mine?" "Oh. Well, you have the biggest dick I've ever seen -- but your ass is nice too. You're handsome (lie) and you have a great voice (true)." He blushed. Even in the low light I could see how much he liked being flattered. Who didn't? A group of other guys had crowded around us. Either they wanted to meet Mr. Big Dick or cozy up to Ray's latest pet. I was dragged into various conversations guys who may or may not be porn actors. It was all so false and Californian. Then I felt a hand grab my upper arm. Ray came to rescue me. "OK, Scout. You're a hit. I approve...not necessarily of your choices of who to talk to. We're going to have one for the road and leave." Back at the table, Kevin was trouble keeping his eyes open. His fault. He hated me driving his precious car so he was at the wheel most of the trip. "Thanks, Ray. Interesting crowd." "I at least saved you from a boring conversation with Jon. He's semi-new and a total mess. Heroin. He only does hay when he's high and he's always high. I'm pretty sure he's the one who gave me herpes. You won't see him later tonight. Dude would rob me blind." "I think Kevin is about ready to pass out." His eyes were closed. "Poor dear. He has enough time to get a nap in before the party. Drink up while I go sign out here." I finished my glass and Kevin's mostly-full one as well. Damn...I must have the same capacity for booze as the rest of my family. Ray came back. "So who did I talk to that you didn't like?" "It doesn't matter, Scout. You were just mingling like I told you to. Let's go." "How are we going to Kevin out of here?" His head was on the table and he was snoring. "I've got people to do that." Sure enough - a couple of beefy muscle studs who could have been twins came and hoisted poor Kevin from the chair. "Put him in the front seat. Scout and I will sit in back." The stud twins exchanged looks, mumbled a little. The driver didn't look the least bit surprised to have a passed-out boy next to him. He'd probably see everything. "So you're having a party tonight?" "Yes. It's in your honor! It will be a proper 'welcome to the big city' gala." Oh. I'd been feeling a little tired but was wide awake now. "Come sit closer to me. Need a bump?" I knew what he meant. I'd read about it in some book. "No, thanks. I promised myself and my sister that I wouldn't do anything beyond weed out here." "Good luck with that, Scout. I don't have any pot -- it's a wood-killer." "OK. I'm fine with no drugs at all. I think I have an addictive personality anyway." "Yeah. I know you're addicted to eating cum. Kevin told me he feeds it to you almost daily." I could sense a sly smile on his face. c "Yeah. He's addicted to feeding me as well." "While you were making the rounds, he also told me he fucked your ass at some motel in Colorado. I'm not mad because I was 18 once myself." It was true. I'd been rubbing his crotch for the first four hours of the trip and even gave him a little road head. He would have settled for that, but I wanted his dick inside of me so badly. We hadn't unpacked before I was riding his boner on a bed that smelled like cigarettes. Super 8. We were back at Ray's estate in a flash. Earl met us out front and grunted 'hello' before lifting Kevin out of the car and slinging him over her shoulder like a backpack. "Take him to his room, Doll. Then get back to your post. Some people are tacky enough to show up on time." She answered with another grunt. "I wish I had a camera so I could get a photo of Kevin being carried around by a big lesbian. He made my life hell for many years, and I don't know why I ever forgave him." "Well hell is in the past, dear boy. You are in heaven now. Let's go to the lounge and I'll give you a tour." I figured we'd go to his sex room or whatever it was called, but no. We went to a brightly-lit room that was sort of attached to the kitchen. There was a TV mounted on the wall and a little bar. Ray stripped down to nothing and watched my reaction. He was covered with thick black fur and his dick hung huge, dark and limp between his thighs. "You're the best host ever, Ray." "You are too sweet. Let me make you a cocktail. Want some music?" "I'm good." He mixed the same fizzy clear drink Kevin always served. "Goodness doesn't last long around here. I need to prepare a little. I got these herbal pills from Indonesia that keep me hard for 12 hours. Want one? They're not technically 'drugs'." "Nah. My boner almost never goes away as it is." He swallowed a little white capsule and chugged his drink. "God! To be 18 again!" Ray sat down on the stool next to me and I could smell his personal musk. "Hi." "Hi." I wanted him to touch me and I wanted to touch him. "You have a great dick." "Thanks. I'm a lot thicker than Kevin. Poor boy has a pencil dick just like his dad." I don't think I wanted to know if he'd had sex with either of Kevin's parents. The doorbell rang. "Ugh. Horrible people! Why not just show up the night before with a sleeping bag. Never EVER show up early for anything, Scout." "I promise." I watched his perfect fur-covered ass as he moved over to the TV. "I'm gonna show you some of the films I've either produced or directed." I knew Sally Field wasn't going to appear on screen. Ray made gay porn. "You'll see some familiar faces. You met several tonight and you'll see some of them again tonight." I'd never seen a gay porn movie before. I don't think there was even an XXX theater in the whole state of Kansas. "I'll start with the guy you seemed to like the most....Dick. I wish I could remember his real name. He was there! On TV! Oh my god. He was fucking some hot hunk and his penis was indeed furiously giant. "He's a decent guy." "You think so? I always found him boring. His endowment is the only reason he has a career. He fucks like a librarian and it takes so long to get him hard. I've had more fluffers quit because of that guy. You two seemed to have a connection so I invited him." Fluffer? I could pretty much guess what that was. "Cool. No rubbers in your films, right?" "Exactly. They're probably going to pass laws against that soon. Whatever. I'll film in Mexico if I have to." He changed video cassettes and suddenly there was a scene that looked like it was set in a ski lodge. Lots of hot men with facial hair. "That guy right there is Jeff Turk. Nice guy but one of the worst actors in the world. I was so sure he was straight but I guess he's one of the few true Bi's. He full on kisses men even off camera. He'll be here, but don't expect much conversation. Jeff Fisk said he might be here but he's not been feeling well lately. Ominous, I know. It was too much to take in. I had a major stiffy, and Ray was working his fat dick up to full mast. Goddamn! He should be filmed! "Ray..." "I know. Get undressed." The doorbell kept ringing as I stripped. "Good. I will make you a star, Scout. Want to go to my bedroom?" "No. If it's OK with you, I want to do it right here. Right now. Please fuck me." He pushed me to the tiled floor and spread legs as wide as they would go. "Keep your voice down as much as you can. I know it'll hurt, but there's no telling who can hear." I nodded. His hairy body covered me so perfectly. My blanket and me His dick felt so big as it prodded around the perimeter of my eager hole. "Found it. Grit your teeth, Scout." And then he just plunged in. FUCK! I tried not to yell out, but I mean, come on. This wasn't like being fucked by Kevin at all. Ray didn't seem all that concerned with my comfort or readiness. He was thrusting ans sweating. "Hell yeah! Did I already inform you that you'll be getting a tattoo next week? Oh Shit! I'm tattooing your insides for now. Shit -- I never even made you suck me first. Later. For sure. I'm gonna shoot in ya. NOW! DAMN!" He wasn't exactly keeping his voice down. And then his wide dick got even wider as he shot. Hot toxic sperm was inside my intestines now. My back hurt a little from the hard floor and his heft, but the pleasure overruled discomfort now. My bliss was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell and a murmur of guests. "I'll help you upstairs and we can both clean up. Rest a bit and tell Kevin to get his buns downstairs. You alright?" "Very alright. Thank you." TO BE CONTINUED....
  4. THIS A WORK OF FICTION March 7th, 1998 It would take too long to explain how a gay man like myself ended up being a reporter for a right-wing website. I'd listened to a college adviser who told me that hate was a growth industry. So many people were angry about Bill Clinton being elected for a second time, angry about gays in the military, evolution being taught in public schools, flag burning, immigrants, etc. They needed to hear their own opinions validated. I've been extremely liberal since I was 14 and had accumulated more than enough hours of being bullied by ignorant thugs. I was also an atheist in a region that could best be described as the buckle of the bible belt. Now I had joined their media world. A paycheck is a paycheck, right? One of the editors was vehemently anti-gay and pro-Christian. I knew enough about his kind to speak his language. I'd meet with him on Tuesday mornings to pitch story ideas. I'd done some research about how much tax money was being on AIDS research compared to other diseases and could bang out an article about that in a day and just relax for the rest of the week. If need be, I could even follow up with how much aid we were sending to Africa. "Yeah. Good. Do that, but I got an idea for something with more shock value. My wife's brother is a fag and he told her about this new thing where gays are trying to get AIDS on purpose. Can you believe that shit?! He tried to make it sound like just a kinky fetish thing, but I think it's something else too. I think they want to collect disability so they can just live off the government's dime. Always follow the money and you'll find a story. It's not enough for them to spend eternity in Hell -- they want to rip us off as much as possible first." I couldn't imagine how I'd research this even if it was true. "Can I use your brother-in-law as a source?" "Maybe. Maybe not. He says the bath houses are full of sickos doing this thing. I wouldn't dream of asking you to find information there. Look online...or maybe go to one of them gay bars. We'll cover the expenses of course. Could you handle that?" Oh I could indeed. I'd already been to a couple, but they were all about looks, style and dance music. There was one establishment on my neighborhood that had a leather dress code and a seedy reputation. It was scary--even on the exterior. "Well...I don't know. It seems far-fetched, Boss. Even if guys are really doing this, they probably wouldn't want to talk about it." "Just fish around. Get a quote or two from an 'anonymous source' and we can embellish everything else, 'enhance' the details. Start online and go from there." Making shit up was encouraged around here. We all did it. I went back to my desk and tried to access a local gay chatroom. Blocked. I'd have to do this from my apartment. I took a few 'work from home' days and started my research. The first thing I did was call my friend Randy. He was gay and pretty experienced. "Hey, man. What's up?" "Just shaving my balls again. I can't believe pubes can grow in gray! I blame my mom's side of the family. Bitch. Are you home?" "Yeah. I'm researching a story about gay men who seek out the AIDS virus. On purpose." "Bug-Chasing?" "That's what it's called?" I wrote down the term on a post-it. "So it's real?" "Where have you been, girl?" "Do you know any of these chasing guys?" "Yes. I do, but I'm not going to help you write a story for that fascist web site. We've talked about this. I won't connect you with a chaser or a gifter. You'll have to do that on your own. Go to Club 1815. That's all I can tell you." He sounded somewhat indignant, and I really couldn't blame him. "I don't have enough leather to wear there." "As long as you have boots, a vest and a leather jacket - they'll let you in. I can loan you some stuff, but that's where my participation ends. I love you, but I have principles." "I may take you up on that. So thanks, Randy." Gifter. There had to be those as well as Chasers. 'ScottsdaleM4M.net' was a local chatroom that you had to join and set up a personal profile. Fine. I could do that. As soon as I signed in under the name 'Dino'. There were a dozen users there, but not much chatter. Dino: Any chasers or gifters here? DesertCub: Why? Are you looking for a death fuck? Shubby80: Ignore this guy. He's only been a member for three minutes. Dino: I'm new and curious. I want to learn. DesertCub: Just hang out at Club 1815...lots of toxic sperm exchanged there. I could give you a quick education now...where do you live? I signed off. It was real after all. Maybe I could just invent a story and nobody would ever know it was fiction. Credibility counted for nothing these days anyway. Randy called me. "How's it going, Lois Lane?" "Ugh. I hate it when you call me that. Get some new material, dude." "Be nice to me or I won't take you shopping tomorrow. And lose this grumpy attitude." "Sorry. I went to the local chat room and it was a little scary." "Could have told you that. See you tomorrow morning at 11. You can buy me lunch." March, 1998 I met Randy at his apartment and he waved me in. "God. Do you ever look hungover? I swear this clean living of yours will be the death of me. I've dug out all the leather gear I own, but I doubt much of it will fit you. Maybe the boots -- size 12, right?" "Yeah. I can fit in those." "Everything else we'll have to buy. I have a thin, girlish figure and you...don't." We went out and ate lunch at a taco place before hitting a bizarre adult store called "Playpen". Randy said I could just wear faded jeans and a white t-shirt, but I needed a tough leather jacket and a leather cap. He got me good and outfitted after an hour of shopping. My t-shirt said 'Just Do Me'. The jacket was very Village People and expensive. But I guess I was going undercover. For good measure, Randy insisted I also get some mirrored aviator sunglasses and a leather baseball cap. It was exciting, embarrassing and just so time-consuming. I liked Randy. He was my only gay pal. "Thanks for helping me, guy." "It's all against my better judgement but I'll go with you to 1815 this Friday. You will need my help. I've changed my mind bout the sunglasses... Forget those." "I appreciate that." Randy showed up a little early Friday evening and my hair was still wet. "Change of plans, Sweetie. I've decided to take you to Belle's first. There's a bartender there who knows everything going on in this town. Absolutely everything. He could be a good source for you. Want a drink? I brought some Schnapps." "I thought you'd started A.A. again." "I usually slip on that sixth or seventh step." He bit his lower lip. "I need an elevator instead of steps." The Schnapps was a potent cinnamon swallow -- like liquid Dentyne mixed with radioactive waste. "Ugh. Is this 300 proof or something?" "I'm loving the boots and the jeans. I still think you should have bought that 'Hard Rock Cafe -- Sodom' t-shirt, but you were right. Nobody would get it. Put on the jacket and the cap.on and let me see the whole effect. Hmmm. The jury is still out on the cap. Never mind. Just mess up your hair a little. Here. I'll do it." "Let's finish this and then we'll go. I'm so close to backing out now, just making up a fictional piece and calling it 'news'. It's pretty much all they do there anyway." "Oh. That reminds me...don't bring up the name of that website. Just tell people you're freelance. Did you remember your mini tape recorder?" "Got it." By the time we got to his car, I was slightly but pleasantly buzzed. Randy gave me a few last minute instructions during the short drive. "Act like you've been there a million times and this is nothing new. No offence, but you tend to get these big owl eyes when you're concentrating on something. Relax." Belle's looked like any other pub from the outside. Just the regulation neon beer signs and such. Inside was smoky and loud. I guessed the remainder of the happy hour crowd was still there, smoking and having 'one more for the road'. OK. I was fine with all of this so far. Randy and I sat at the bar as I felt dozens of pairs of eyes aimed at me. "Relax! You're just new and getting scoped out. There's Ted. Be cool and we'll get you a scoop." Ted was a short older guy with a Hawaiian shirt on. He and Randy did that European kissing thing where you peck each other on both cheeks. Randy gestured my way and had a whisper chat with him. I sat there like an alien from Mars. "Good news. Ted will tell you all he knows as long as you don't use his name...or the name of this place. You're with me -- so he knows you're cool. This place will quiet down in about an hour. This is just a place where people warm up for an evening somewhere more fun. He'll come over when he gets a chance. God, you're an owl again! Calm the fuck down. Get this...he almost doesn't believe you're wanting to report on bug chasing -- he thinks you are just a chaser using the writing thing as an excuse. That's not the case is it?" I acted like I was about say something, but just took a drink of whatever he'd ordered instead. I'll admit I was a little more interested than I probably should have been, but not in the chasers as much as the gifters. I needed to look at them and find out what was in it for them. I mean -- it was borderline murder almost. That was exciting to me. "No, Randy. I'm just doing a job. I have to write a hatchet piece about Planned Parenthood next. What is this drink? It's good." "Seven and seven. I'll make it a double next time," he laughed at me. "My little owl." "Here's the thing", Ted explained, "The gift-givers don't even need to advertise much. Some of them might have a biohazard tattoo or a visible lesion on their neck or arm or somewhere. They might weigh 90 pounds. Chasers will spot them and buy them drinks and bat their eyes." He stubbed out his cigarette and promptly lit another one. "But what do they get out of it?" "For chasers, it's a rush, a thrill ride. The givers either like the constant raw sex or they like someone flirting with them after years of considering themselves ruined and undesirable. Maybe it's a revenge thing..you know, like they want to take out their frustrations by shooting a poison load in some clean ass and taking them down too." I'd forgotten to even take out and turn on my recorder. I wasn't on the clock now anyway. Fuck that website. I was fully aware that the subject interested me intensely. Ted had unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his furry chest and nipple ring. "As for the chasers -- they don't have to do much of anything except take raw dick every chance they can. Parks, bath houses, parking lots. It's pretty easy to get AIDS these days. Now there are some guys who want to know the minute they take a dirty load. make it a memorable ritual. If that's the case, it can be tricky. Guys lie...about being negative or positive. There are chasers out there who claim they are HIV- but have had the virus a long time."It's a matterrof trust and you can't trust anybody." His nipples were as erect as a man's could be. Was he flirting? Seducing? Maybe. Did I like it? Yes. "Are there chasers and givers here right now?" "Of course, but I won't out them. I earn a living here, you know? I can't betray a regular, no matter how beautiful your eyes are. Can't. Won't." "I understand, Ted. Thanks. Where's Randy?" "Still here, waiting for you. Hate to break it to you, kid, but I think he wants your bod." "No way. Why? Did he say something?" "No. But you can't be this clueless. Maybe you can. It's after 11:00 now. You two should go to 1815 now. I made a few calls on my phone and lined up some people who will give you interviews. Maybe I'll tag along." "Don't you have to close up here? Finish your job?" "Nah. I'll just call the owner and have him come fill in for me. He just lives up the street and he owes me some favors." He winked. I went back and sat with Randy while Ted punched away at his cell phone. "He wants to come with us. That OK?" "Sure. Didn't I tell you he'd have lots of information?" "He gave me some new perspective. I think this could be a good story -- too good for that wingnut website. I might write it and then send a draft to a different, better outlet." "Here," he gestured to two shot glasses filled with what I guessed with tequila. "An admirer sent these over. I think your cover is blown. I didn't say anything, but word got out. somebody must have heard what you and Ted were discussing...or he told some of his pals." I did a quick scan of the dozen or so guys left in Belle's. If I had to go by looks alone, I'd say there were three guys with the 'AIDS look'. One guy in particular seemed to be trying to catch my eye. He was tall, skinny and had shoulder length black hair. I guessed he was Native American -- at least partly. I smiled at him and he turned away. Guess it wasn't him. A big bear of a man in his fifties walked through the door. Because he got immediately behind the bar, I assumed he was the owner here to relieve Ted. I was right. Ted came over and sat with us. "One cocktail and then we'll go. 1815 makes their drinks way too strong and I can't risk a second DUI." "Hey, Ted -- do you know that long-haired guy over there." "Dante? Yeah. Why? You like that type?" "No. Well...yeah. He's hot. Was he the one who bought us the shots?" Ted shook his finger at me. "I don't tell anybody anything like that. If whoever paid for the drinks wanted to be known, you'd know. You guys about ready?" Ken and the owner said a few words to each other and announced (loudly) "We're going to 1815 now. Wish us luck!" That one guy with the long hair looked at me with blazing eyes. He had to be the one who bought the drinks. I was sure of it. Out on the sidewalk, the wind had picked up and helped clear my head. We were going the opposite direction of Randy's car. It turns out Club 1815 was just a few blocks away. So we walked. Hoofed it. I was a little buzzed, but not enough to not notice the secret eye contact Randy and Ted made. Whatever. I looked behind us and saw a couple of lovey couples embracing and other loners smoking, trying to sober up a little before driving home. Our state had recently changed the blood/alcohol limit to .08. Damn red state. I'm sure my level was higher and was glad I wasn't driving. I turned around to glance back again The drink-buyer had finally exited. I swear his eyes had laser powers or something. He was a big guy and made an impressive shadow on the sidewalk. What part of me wanted to run back and hold him? The booze? The idea of him knowing I was becoming a chaser now. All of the above? God, he was HOT. "They're going to card you, Dean. God -- you should have worn sunglasses. It's cool, though. Like it or not -- you look like a child. No offence.'' "Hush now. I told him not to wear sunglasses. I mean, look at his eyes. He looks exactly like a chaser, doesn't he?" They were both smoking cigarettes, and I suddenly craved one. "Can I bum a smoke?" Ted held his pack out immediately. "Good idea, kid. Nothing ages you faster than a nicotine habit." Huh? We were suddenly outside the front of the famous/infamous Club 1815. "Today is a day that will live in infamy." Which president said that? Roosevelt? Truman? The thumping bass of the music found us and I suddenly kind of wanted to just call it a night and walk home. Maybe the cigarette had sobered me up enough. "He looks scared, Randy. Make him stop." "Give him a minute. Dean -- you have to change that expression. Ted went to a lot of trouble to make sure you'd get people to talk to for your story." OK. Fine. The inside of the place was somewhat insane. I instinctively grabbed Randy's upper arm like some little kid hugging his mom's legs on his first day of kindergarten. Nobody carded me but many sets of eyes turned my way. New Guy Syndrome. I'd never have this advantage again. Ted found a table that had just been cleared and we sat. Randy walked confidently to the bar to fetch us drinks, leaving me alone with lecherous Ted. "There's no story, is there? You are just chasing the bug." "No. There's a story. Really." "IF you are chasing, you just have to say so. I'd gift you and so would Randy. We're both bottoms, but fucking is fucking. My lover is the one who infected me...and we're still together after ten years. He has a huge dick and he'd get you pregnant on the first try." "Randy is positive???" "Yes. Shh. Here he comes." Randy gave us each a 7 & 7 and settled into his chair next to me. "What did I miss?" "Little Dino here wants the bug. He didn't come right out and say it, but you were right." "I didn't say he wanted it...I just said he was curious. He's a reporter, asshole." I just sat there like a potted plant. I shouldn't be here because I'd been outed. I looked around and saw that most of the men were dressed like I was. It was what they call "leather drag". I thought it was pretty hot, but you never saw guys dressed like this outside of a gay setting. Randy had once told me that you could tell tops from bottoms by what side of their body was most adorned with jewelry or chains or straps or something. I just don't remember which side meant what. The music was loud but I didn't see anybody dancing. The lighting was not 'high tech' at all. I wondered if this was the kind of place where AIDS began to first spread in the the early 80's. "OK. Now it's time to go meet the people you want to 'interview'. They're meeting us downstairs." "Downstairs,Ted?? It's his first time here." "He may look like Bambi, but he can handle this. Dean's got the hunger. Right, Boy?" "Yeah. I guess that's a good word for it. Let's go downstairs." There was a basement bar that wasn't as loud but just as committed to the leather fetish...maybe more so. We had just settled at the bar when I realized I had to pee. Badly. The tiny. dim bathroom had one of those long metal troughs instead of individual urinals. I had to go so bad and nobody else was in there. As soon as I unzipped and released a stream of piss, the door creaked open. "Alone at last!" It was a deep, smoky voice I didn't recognize. My dick retreated a bit and the urinating stopped. "Huh? I'm done." I turned and saw a man who was my size, dressed exactly like me, almost. He was late 30's probably and had a thick brown porn mustache. "You're the chaser, right? Ted told us you'd be down here, but he's been known known to bullshit people." "Ted told you I was a chaser and that I'd be here?" This was getting a little too surreal. "Oops. Don't rat me out. It might have been Randy. Is it true you still have your cherry? You won't much longer. I'm Matt...I'm sure we'll meet again soon." He unzipped and hauled out one hell of a penis. "Want to give it a little 'see you later' kiss?" The head of his dick was maroon, slick and shiny. Oh, I wanted to taste that penis. Was he a gifter? "I won't say a word. Will you come sit with us when you're done here?" "Let's go now. I didn't need to pee anyway...I just followed you in here because I wanted to be your first. I'm...well you'll find out later." OK. Maybe it was the booze or just nerves, but I touched my index finger to his piss slit. Sticky. We exited and joined Ted and Randy at the bar. Traitors. I guess you really can't trust anybody. They each looked shocked that I'd brought somebody back from the bathroom. "Matt! Surprised to see you here," Ted said with an arched eyebrow. "No, you aren't. I was lucky enough to meet with your Dean." "You didn't..." "No. No. I just let him get a glimpse. That's all. It was just a preview, guys...I swear." There was a drink waiting for me and I gulped it. The really overweight bartender was watching me and came over immediately and refilled my glass with a clear liquor that I didn't know the name of because his ham-like hand was covering the label. Whatever. I was in a sexy Fellini movie now. I reached my hand over and let it rest on Matt's crotch. I didn't even care if he had HIV...he'd been the first person to be honest with me all night...AND he had a magnificent cock! Randy was competing for my attention. He squeezed my wrist and whispered in my ear. "He's a jerk. Don't let him be your first giver." "You set me up. This was some kind of plan you had? We're no longer friends." "No. This all happened suddenly. Blame Ted. He organized the event." "Event?" "Shit. You're getting pozzed tonight, Dean. It's all set now. If you want to leave -- well, I'll help if I can." "What event?" The bartender turned a little blue light, siren-like thing. It didn't make sound - just spun and flashed. K-Mart Blue Light Special. My negative HIV status was on sale. So be it. About the half of the guys left the basement and went upstairs. The barkeep followed them up and locked the door. One guy was protesting, "Can I at least watch, Barry?" "Fuck no. Did you want an audience watching you that time in April? Either fuck him or leave." He was finally dismissed and the door was re-locked. I turned to Randy. "What's going to happen now?" "Oh, well...there is a warm up period where Barry puts on some porn and guys start taking off their clothes a little at a time. Most of them will come introduce themselves. Oh look -- your secret admirer is here." There he was, lurking in the darkest corner. The tall, dark guy from Belle's. He looked huge...6'7" or more. He had a leather trench coat on and looked so bad-ass. "Do you know him?" "Sort of. I think he's Eskimo or something. He's been after you since you first made a profile on the internet. He runs that website...and he knows where you live. He helped Ted set this whole thing up. I might have also helped." "What's his name?" "It's long and hard to pronounce. Everybody just calls him 'Eon'. Supposedly, he has a strain of the virus that can't be treated. That's just a rumor, though." Some of the crowd were bare-chested now. The bartender,Barry, brought new drinks and I had to wonder if he'd put something extra in mine. He was shirtless as well and his big hairy gut hung out like something alien. I estimated there were sixteen gift-givers here. Eon wasn't drinking and hadn't removed a stitch of clothing. Just stood there smoking. The TV over the bar was showing some vintage porn with no condom in sight. It was set on a farm or a ranch. The sound was low but you could still hear the slurping, slapping and moaning. More clothing was being shed. Matt - who I'd forgotten all about - bumped my shoulder with his. He had stripped down to his underwear and socks and was rubbing his erect dick. "You don't have to kiss it now, but could you kiss me? Hell, why not? Nobody else had come by to 'meet' me. I kissed his mouth and then pulled away. There was grumbling from the others. "I'm not really liked much, but I'm viral as fuck and want to be your first." I needed more to drink. Barry brought us fresh drinks and free shots. Randy was pulling at my sleeve. "Take off your jacket and shirt at least. Everybody thinks you're going to chicken out. And be careful of Matt. Why don't we trade seats...I'll deal with him." I stood up and took off all of my clothes -- even the socks and underwear. All sets of eyes watched and there were some grunts of approval. Others did the same - including Ted and Randy. I thought they were both bottoms. Was Randy really going to fuck me? My friend? The crowd gathered closer. Eon stood right where he was, sizing me up with his stare. I continued to drink as more hard, poz dicks surrounded me. Barry bought shots for all of us and said "It's time, yes? You get to pick your first AIDS fuck -- after that, it's whoever wants you next. You have ten minutes to drink and think while I go get the mat. Well, this was for sure happening. Ted was sporting a nice, fat boner. "You should pick me...I know how to be gentle. Your ass needs to warm up a little." "I thought you only bottomed." "I'll top for a good cause." Barry brought the mat and a big bottle of lube or grease or something. The group buzzed and moved in closer...but not Eon. Had he changed his mind? "OK, It's time to begin the breeding. Dino decides who he wants first and then the line forms. Well, Chaser...who's it going to be?" "Him." I pointed directly at Eon. It had to be him. There were murmurs from the crowd. "Better get the first aid kit, Barry," somebody said.Eon hadn't moved or changed his expression. Randy whispered in my ear. "That wasn't a smart choice, Dean. About half the guys here won't fuck you after he does. The rumor about his super strain are widespread. And he's got a giant dick....not in sexy way way. Just freaky. I wanted your first time to not be your last." Ted had left and then Randy followed. How bad could it be? Wasn't this what gay men did all the time? I was suddenly alone as people moved to make room for Eon who had finally walked over and sat next to me. Barry eyed us warily as he set two new drinks out for us. "Hi, Dino." "Hi, Eon. What happens now?" "We'll talk a little and get to know each other first, And then..." "This all happened pretty fast. Should I be worried?" He laughed and urged me to drink more. "No. This is a gossipy bunch of queens. I will not hurt you any more than what is inevitable. You've got a nice little boy body there." "Why didn't you just pick me up at Belle's? Why did this whole ritual have to be set up?" He lit a cigarette. "You enjoy the chase and I guess I enjoyed chasing you. Not usually how it works, but this is all for you." "Oh. Have you gifted before?" "Yeah. Four of the men carrying my babies are here tonight. I've developed a new lesion on my tongue. Want to feel it?" I didn't even have time to answer before his mouth was on mine and we were Frenching up a storm. There was a little rough spot there, like a little hot button. "Stand up." He removed his coat and nothing else. "Get on your knees and suck my dick." He'd hauled out that famous meat of his. It looked inhuman and darker than the rest of his flesh. "Make it hard." I fed on his dick like I was starving. It was too much for my mouth but I did my best. Ever so slowly, it got thicker and heavier. I could barely even get my lips around the head. Nobody ever told me I should practice this...I just assumed I'd be a natural at it. I thought my lust would give me all the abilities I needed. "Good. Now get on the mat and wait." I wasn't sure what position I should be in so I just lied on my back and looked at the TV light bouncing on the ceiling. Eon was greasing up his monster and his fingers. His shirt was off and I saw his huge tattoo of a wolf in the middle of his hairless chest. He wasn't exactly gentle as he poked a finger into my hole...and then another. "Relax. It'll be so much better if you can avoid tensing up." "It feels funny." "There's a numbing agent in this stuff. I'd never get any ass without this stuff. Ready?" "Yeah." Eon hoisted my legs up in the air and tried to enter me. No way would this work. "NO!!" "Shhh. Relax those muscles and let me in there." I yelled out again, and Barry or somebody turned on loud music to drown out my screams. Eon kept pressing ahead. Ripping, tearing, injury. I might die from this. I really might I opened my fear=filled eyes and looked into Eon's face. "Don't fight this. You only get one first time and you only get one true breeding. Imagine me giving you this gift and try to get your body to match your brain. There you go. See? There you go...I'm almost all the way in now." His voice was deep and so sexy. And he was right - I couldn't let pain ruin this once in a lifetime moment. He took advantage of my openness and started to thrust slowly but steadily. It was starting to feel okay, better than okay. His savage side came out as he got closer to coming. Harder and faster, faster still. "Okay Dino...It's time. It's....AHHH! FUCK! I'm seeding your ass!" His cock had expanded and pulsed as it shot. I didn't feel the load physically, but my mind did. My soul felt every venomous gush. Eon collapsed on top of me and I felt his heart thumping hard, pumping the infected blood throughout his giant body...blood that was similar to mine now. I had a million different thoughts in my head but I let them work themselves out while my animal self just leaned up and kissed his neck. "Thank you." I meant it. "Thank YOU. And you're welcome. You okay? You seem okay -- you're smiling." A few people applauded. "Yeah. I think so." Somebody handed me a plastic container of pre-moistened wipes. "You got three minutes before the next breeder's turn. Do what you need to do." Barry was trying to move the evening along. I cleaned up down there but didn't look at at the used wipes because I knew I'd see blood or poop or something that would wreck the moment. I don't think I even got a full three minutes before Matt was fighting his way to be next. If I could survive Eon, I could survive this guy. Hell - I think I could survived a baseball bat or a traffic cone inside me. I knew that my drinks hadn't been spiked with anything because my mind was wide awake and my thoughts were clear. "More," I thought. "Hi, Baby. Remember me? Ready for a back-up breeding? I'm used to getting Eon's seconds." "That's a great mustache, Matt." "Yeah. Thanks. I'm going to write my number on you with a marker. Lots of guys here will do that." He wasted no time in just planting his rod straight into me. It hurt, but either the magic lube or the defeated nerve endings in my ass kept it from being a painful experience. I could finally just enjoy the fucking. Matt's verbal skills and technique were superb, and I thoroughly enjoyed him. He came and I didn't get a second break before another guy was taking his turn. And then another. And another. Barry made me get on all fours so he could do it from behind. The only fuck that wasn't too memorable was Randy. He just wanted to blow his nut and leave. A few of the givers went at me a second time. "Hell, kid! You took almost 20 loads and it's barely even 2 AM! You can go use the bathroom by yourself now. If you want more toxic seed, we'll have to move this party to some body's house." Eon helped me to my feet and handed me my clothes and shoes. Swell guy. He walked me to the bathroom and told me he'd stand guard until I was finished. I sat on the toilet for a long time and tried not to hear the sounds coming from down there. I also flushed without looking at the aftermath. I got dressed and fixed my hair as best I could. It never once occurred to me to look into my reflected eyes to see the non-virgin, HIV+ changes. Who the hell cared?? The crowd had mostly cleared out when I returned. Only Eon, Randy, Matt and Barry remained. Ted must have left a long time ago because I don't remember sex with him. "He's back! Time for a toast!" I went and sat next to Eon as the shots were served. He kissed me on the cheek. "Have mine. I don't usually drink...kills my boner." "Your boner is amazing, man." I gulped both shots and kind of wished for another. "I'm going to have a beer - do you want a Coke or something?" "No. Have your beer fast and then we should go. The last call crowd is pretty crazy upstairs." Eon drove me home but wouldn't accept my invitation to come in. He seemed very tired, but made sure I had his number. I ended up quitting my job at the hack website and working for my first gifter. He needed help with his emerging web company and wasn't always feeling very well. We slept together as often as we could but didn't move in together. Either I loved him or was just obligated to him. Or both. He just called me from St. Luke's hospital. They are keeping him until his fever goes down. I need to wrap this up now so I can see him. THE END
  5. Thanks! As I just told another reader, I never really intended for this be a continuing story. Maybe there's more that needs to be told. Stay tuned.
  6. I really didn't plan for this to be a continuing story. I tend to end the tale once the gift-giver and bug-chaser complete their task. But that's not a hard and fast rule. I think I need to probably continue Kevin And Dennis's adventures.
  7. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION 1985 Xana, Kansas Worst year of my life. But then again, I've been saying that just about every year since I started high school. It really went to hell at that point people started to notice I was 'different'. Up until that point, I had a regular life. Almost regular. My two best friends were my sister Janice (a year younger than me) and the most popular boy in the world. He was everything I wasn't: athletic, good-looking, and fearless. Kevin and I started as friends because we lived on the same block and our moms would get together daily to watch soap operas and drink highballs. But then...but then puberty hit us all like a tsunami. Everybody was changing except for me. The girls got periods and boobs while the boys turned into actual men. The only different thing about me was my new love for music and acting. It was a discovery made when our music class would put on theatrical shows twice a year. At the end of the first semester we always did "A Christmas Carol" and something random in the Spring. I never got a leading part, but I didn't even care. Toward the end of my Sophomore year, I got the role of Linus in "You're a Good Man Charlie Brown". I was so excited because there was a solo part of me dancing and singing to my blanket. According to Janice, the whole school and even some of the adults were talking about my performance, and obviously gay I was. Apparently I was a little too into it and had practically glided on air. She claimed an older couple behind her were debating whether I was a boy or a girl. The news came as a heavy blow and it ruined my life. I was a "faggot'...and everybody knew it. Even Kevin turned on me. High school was going great for him and he couldn't risk hanging out with me. He couldn't even risk NOT bullying me out in the open. He would push me against lockers, spit on me and call me every possible homosexual slang term there was. And just to make everything worse, Kevin and my sister were dating. I felt like I'd lost everything and everybody. I held everything together waiting for this day...graduation. I wanted to get far away as if enough distance would erase the first 18 years of memories and pain. I'd skip college because that seemed like a continuation of high school and I'd already done my time. I had three possible plans in mind with what to do with the college funds set aside for me: 1. Move to Australia, work some menial job there and never come back. 2. Move to L.A. and try to get an acting job. 3. Take a trip to Hawaii and jump into an active volcano. What I ended up doing was just staying home and retreating into books, TV and booze. My parents were both functional alcoholics and not the violent, mean kind -- they were happy and clueless kind. They must have assumed I was just taking some time off to figure out a plan. My plan was to raid their liquor cabinet as often as I could. My sister did the same, but she was never at home. She'd broken up with Kevin for reasons she wouldn't go into. I'd already assumed she lost her virginity since Janice had been boy crazy since first grade. I was predicted she'd be knocked up and/or married before her senior year. We were both pretty much unsupervised, but she was the only one taking full advantage. I was just a boring, garden-variety delinquent. One July morning I got out of bed just in time to see Mom walk out the door with her big purse. This meant she was going over to hang out with Kevin's mom and get good and plastered. She'd left a note for me. Dennis -- If you can, please water the flower beds and also give the grass a good soaking. I love you! The fact that we had one of the nicest yards in town was a great disguise for the secrets inside. People talk in a small town no matter how green your lawn was. Our family unit consisted of two drunk adults, a teen slut and a fag. Whatever. I mixed a generous rum and coke in a plastic quart cup from the convenience store and went out to attend to the greenery. It was hot as hell and also very dry. There was a region-wide burning ban in place for the fifth week. I was almost finished with everything when I felt a tap on me shoulder. It was Kevin. "Hey man. There's two partying old chicks at my house so I thought I'd come over and say hi." Hi indeed. He was pretty obviously stoned...and looking really good. I'd made a point of never looking at him these past few years. He had filled out completely and still had the same dirty blondish hair I remembered. He was a few inches taller than me and solid as steel. He was wearing flip-flops, swim trunks and an ancient Foreigner concert t-shirt. Only a year ago I would have been thrilled to have him talk to me again, but now I had my guard up. "Why are you here? Won't you get point deductions for even being near me?" "I'm sorry. No. I really am. None of that shit matters now, OK? I should have never treated that way." "No you shouldn't have. But again, why are you here?" "Hey - can I have a sip of what you're having?" I hated myself for forgiving him so easily, but maybe I'd find out why he and my sister broke up. "Come on in. I'll make you one and we can play Atari or something." "Cool." We went into my dark living room and helped ourselves to the abundant booze. I was still suspicious, but this felt like old times. Kevin and I, squandering a precious Summer day. Only with cocktails. We sat like yogis in front of the TV and played "Burger Time". It was the only game I'd never beaten, but I was still beating Kevin's scores. After we'd had our fill of the crappy graphics and annoying music, Kevin suggested we go out in the back yard for a smoke. As nice our front yard looked was how crummy the back was. "I see your dad still has a hammock up. Remember how we took turns getting all wound up in in it and pretending we were one of Spider-Man's enemies caught in his web?" Of course I remembered that. Kevin produced a joint from somewhere and lit it. I guessed it might have been his third one of the day. Kansas deserves all the negative impressions people have of it, but the homegrown weed is hardy plentiful here. Janice and I gotten stoned together before we'd ever had a taste of booze. "So what happened between you and my sister?" "She didn't wait for me when I went to go visit my uncle in L.A. for three weeks. It wouldn't have lasted anyway, Dennis. She is a wild child. Did you know she had an abortion last Monday?" "No way!" "Yup. In Wichita. I had to pay for half even though I doubt the baby was mine. We should go to the pool." I wasn't in shock, just sad that she didn't tell me. Oh well. Janice and I were basically just strangers now. "Los Angeles, huh? I wanted to move there after graduation - to be an actor. Lost my courage." "You'd be a great actor, but it's a dangerous place. Trust me. I'm going to go there again and live with my uncle. Maybe I'll be a bartender or something. Maybe you can come live with us. Yeah -- that would be cool. My uncle would love you!" "I don't ever remember you talking about an Uncle in California..." "Well -- he's not my real uncle, but I'll explain more later. My parents are going to Chicago for the weekend....you can come spend it with me and I'll fill you in on everything. Can you?" "Yeah. Sure. My parents are going to the Ozarks this weekend. I guess you don't want me to bring Janice." "Oh -- maybe it's the Ozarks I was thinking of. You never know what they're up to." What? He was full of information about something. But what? I could have asked more questions but I had a real nice buzz going. For whatever reason I stood up, climbed into the hammock and spun myself into a cocoon, "Curse you, Spider-Man!!!" By Friday, I'd tried to put all the pieces together but there were too many missing. Were my parents going away for the weekend with Kevin's parents? Why did he have a fake uncle? Why was I so quick to forgive the guy who'd made my life hell for three years? And what was the deal with Janice? She and I used each other as a sounding board years ago. She probably needed one more than ever now. Oh well...it's not like she didn't know where to find me. My mom and dad were packed and ready to go by 4:30 that afternoon. It was an almost seven hour drive to the Ozarks. They would have left earlier but cocktail hour lasted longer than they'd planned. Mom had changed her hair and put on maybe a tad too much makeup. "So you're spending the night at Kevin's house? Good. You two used to be so close. He's a little cocky, but mostly a decent kid." They left the house in a flurry of cologne and alcohol fumes. Janice wasn't home. I helped myself to a drink while wondering what the hell I was supposed to bring over to Kevin's house. When I was a kid I always took my sleeping bag and pajamas, but that was a million years ago. Oh well -- I could always come back and get what I needed. I didn't want to walk half a block with an overnight bag in broad daylight anyway. "Hey! Come on in. Mom and Dad just left." "So did mine." "What a coincidence," he laughed. "So what do you know that I don't?" "Only thousands of things. Come on....we've got all weekend to talk." He led me to the basement for some reason. It was like all the other basements around here; bare concrete floors, mouse droppings and a ping-pong table that usually had boxes of Christmas decorations on top of it. It had changed. Big time. It was a large, furnished, plush area with carpeting and a bar. "Wow! When did all this get done?" "A few years ago. It's a 'play space'." What? It looked a little too fancy and grown up to be somewhere where you'd gather to play board games or charades. "And check this out..." Kevin walked over behind the bar a flipped on some dim colorful lights on the walls and ceiling. It was cool but still confusing. I sat on one of the giant leather couches and waited for the next magic trick. "I have some questions, Kevin." "I know. I'll tell you everything you want to know. In case you don't want to know any more as I'm talking, just say the word and we'll go upstairs and wait for 'Nightmare Theater'. Can you believe it's still on? Same old guy too." Talk." He was barefoot, wearing the same swim trunks and a Spider-Man t-shirt that he'd probably had since junior high. It was faded and way too small for the broad chest and shoulders he'd developed. "OK. I'll start out small and go from there. Remember, as soon as you feel uneasy -- we stop." "OK" "First of all, your sister is sleeping with Coach Glover, from school. They've been together for a few weeks now." "No way! He's old and married and has kids!" "Well, Janice has already dated every other guy in town. It's coach's turn now." I hated that guy. How could he fool around with young girls when he had a handicapped kid at home? When exactly did I lose her? "So are my parents and your parents going to the same place?" "Yup, but let's back up a little...does this room remind you of anything?" I looked around with new eyes. It was suddenly so obviously meant for sex and seduction. Why else was Kevin so cryptic? "It's a sex room, right?" "Very good! You've earned a drink. Come over to the bar and I'll serve you." It was so fancy. I took a seat on one of the stools and noticed the blue and red neon lights above the liquor bottles. Pretty. Kevin handed me some type of fizzy clear drink in a tall glass. "So your mom and dad remodeled all of this just for a place to have sex?" "Sex parties. They're swingers. You know what that means, right?" I did. I learned about them on HBO. "And guess what else? So are your mom and dad." Fucking hell! I could never look them in the eye again. "No. I mean...how do you know?" "Ready to go upstairs now, or do you really want to know?" The world had tilted so severely on its axis, that I was ready to hear everything. "Go on." "Well these people have parties all over the country. They all get in a room and it becomes a big orgy. And it gets very weird after they've smoked enough weed and snorted enough cocaine. Want to try some? Anyway, my 'uncle' Ray got super out of it and wandered up to my room where he fucked me in the ass." "No! How old were you? Did you tell anyone?" "I was legal...I was born three months before you. It hurt like hell, but just enduring it got me invited downstairs to join in. I fucked Miss Stucky from the library. Mrs. Strotkamp sucked my dick. I don't know if any of our parents noticed because they were either wrecked or ... busy." I gulped my drink all the way down. I knew too much and wanted to go home or go to Australia or kill myself. "Did you?...." "NO. I never did anything with your mom or your dad." "So your fake uncle molested you and you still went out to L.A. to visit him?!" "Don't say 'molested'. I could have kicked his ass if I wanted to. It hurt and all, but it wasn't that bad in the end. My California trip out there was a sex vacation. He hosted great swinger parties all the time. I had sex with so many woman and men." "But...but what about AIDS? Aren't you afraid of that?" He'd mixed me another drink. "Nope. By the time it gets here, everyone will have it. I already tested positive for the HIV. You can get it from kissing. These are The End Times, Dennis. Enjoy life while you still have it." This was too much -- way too much. I remember the days when I'd spend the night and we'd stay up and play poker while watching old scary movies. "So you've..uh..done stuff with gay guys?" "Oh yeah. It's no big deal. Sex is sex. You'll find out some day." I remembered all the times I heard him call me 'fag' and 'homo'. All I did was dance and sing to a blanket on stage, while he was essentially the same as me - actively. "It's not so bad sucking a dick when you focus on how it feels to get yours sucked. It's probably my favorite thing in the world to shoot a wad in somebody's mouth." He was looking at me carefully and I noticed how his face had changed. He was still genetically cursed with dark circles under his ice-blue eyes. The neon lights did him no favors. I finished off the second drink. "Is that all?" "Just one more thing. I talked to Uncle Ray last night and told him about you wanting to come to L.A. to be an actor. He's got a huge house near the beach and wants us BOTH to come and live with him. Wouldn't that be cool? Us in L.A.? It's a whole new world there." "I...So I...never mind." I wish I could be 12 years old again, sitting on Janice's bedroom floor and spilling out all the things I was thinking, feeling. We used to do that all the time. "That's all. Are you okay?" "Yeah. I...got any weed?" "Of course. You haven't heard the sound system yet. I picked up some great music in L.A. Bootlegs and stuff you'd never hear in Kansas." He magically produced a fat joint from somewhere and held it between his lips as he fiddled with some stereo stuff. "You should hear the thumpa thumpa stuff they usually listen to down here. Here's a mix tape i made from my collection. I like punk that's not the angry stuff. It has a melody, but not like what you're used to. Give it a chance." I was sitting on the floor, wishing we could just play poker or war or something. The speakers were hidden and I could swear there must have been dozens of them. The sound was rich and filled the room like a heavy fog. Any kind of music would have been a pleasure to listen to. "What group is this?" "'Heavy Disharmony'. The drummer gave me a blow job once, but that's not why I like it. This is just the sound I dig now. Like it?" I did. It sounded so different and so exciting...and kind of sexy somehow. Kevin came over and sat on the floor with me. "You always liked being on the floor -- I remember now." We shared the joint and listened without talking. It was good because I didn't want to hear anything besides this. "OK. This next song is a dud -- want another drink? I've got dry mouth something terrible." The song was in fact not very good, but the sound still shined. "My uncle says I could make a lot money if I started stripping in clubs out there. You think I could be good at that?" "Probably. You've got a good body. Like in a gay bar or something?" "Mostly. Those guys tip like crazy if you show a little ball sack...and even more if you fuck them." "Wow. The last time I danced in front of people, my life was destroyed." "You're taller and bigger now. You maybe need to work out a little. It can only help you get acting jobs if you're buff. I'll show you. Not to this song. The next one." "The songs are so long." "Because this was all recorded live. It's not three minute Madonna song, Dennis." Kevin stubbed out the roach and stood up. "This next song is one you're going to remember forever." I think he was building it up too much. But okay. The opening of the song was mostly drums and the bassist playing a ditty that I almost recognized somehow. Shit! What was this? Kevin stood a few feet away from me and started grinding his hips. He said I'd remember this song forever, and he was exactly right about that. He slowly peeled off his t-shirt and didn't miss a beat. He was only wearing those trunks and had obviously worked himself into a hard-on. Was he teaching me or trying to seduce me? I didn't care. Then the singer finally started in.... Spider-Man, Spider-Man/Does whatever a spider can/Spins a web, any size..." It was a punk/pop version of the old cartoon theme song. He smiled at me in the most delicious way. He was grinding away, humping the air. My face must have given something away because he started to tease down his swim trunks. There were his minimal pubes -- I wanted to smell them, inhale his funk. The dance was deliberately effective and I knew he's make a ton of money on the coast. It's about then that I realized I was still on my knees but standing up to his crotch level. My position was was just as suggestive as his dancing was. He stepped out of his swim shorts like a seasoned professional. ...To him, life's a great big bang up/Wherever there's a hang up/You'll find The Spider-Man Kevin's cock looked better, thicker than I would have guessed. Impossibly hard and sticking straight out. There's no way I could ever be as confident as he was. He said something, but I couldn't hear it above the music. He danced closer until his dick was just inches from my face. The momentum of all this had reached warp speed. The head of his dick poked me in the cheek, and then my right eye. I wanted him to stop dancing and just let me suck him off. Viruses be damned. I wanted this. As soon as the slick head of his penis went past my lips, he stopped the strip tease at last. I just swallowed as much of him as I could. There was a taste and a smell of a sour dishrag briefly -- probably from those damn swim trunks he wore constantly. He grabbed the back of my head and just thrust his strong hips back and forth like a machine. Is he strong? Listen,Bud/He's got radioactive blood I wondered if he was going to cum in my mouth and I wondered if he knew how much I wanted him to. But no. He stepped back as a line of drool strung out of my mouth and caught a random purple light from overhead somewhere. It glowed. He pulled a mat from underneath one of the plush couches and pushed me down on it. Wait -- didn't I get a say in any of this? It was an almost too familiar feeling of being abused in high school. I guess I'd given my consent by not even trying to fight back. I was on my stomach with Kevin's full weight on top of me. He put his mouth close to my ear "This won't feel good the first time, but I'll make it quick. Hang in there, buddy. He just jabbed his hard dick into my asshole before I even knew what was happening. gear GOD! PAIN! Maybe being everyone's punching bag for years had toughened me up because I didn't yell or cry. Those instinctive responses had been suppressed in me for too long. He pumped away faster and faster. This was gay sex. In a sex basement. It hadn't even ended and I was ready to do it again. He stopped, bent down to me ear again "I just blew my nut. How do you feel?" The music had stopped. "Uh...bathroom?" "It's to the right of the bar. There's a shower in there now. Just do what you need to do, take your time." I used the facility without looking at myself in the mirror. That would need to wait a day or two. There was mouthwash there - which I used while wishing there was such a thing as 'asswash'. When I came out, Kevin was back behind the bar and mixing us more fizzy drinks. "Everything OK?" "I'm fine. What time is it?" "A little after 10. Have a seat...want some peanuts or chips or something?" "Maybe later. So I guess I'm not a virgin anymore." What a retarded thing to say. I needed that drink. "No, but it was about time, don't you think? The good news is that you hardly bled at all. And I didn't even use lube. I bled like crazy the first time Ray fucked me. You were turned on and having fun -- that makes all the difference." "Yeah. Just think -- we could have done that years ago. But I guess you were too busy doing my sister. So I'm going to get AIDS now?" "No. You don't get it from just one fuck. You might possibly have the virus now, but it could be ten years or more before you get the disease. That reminds me...." He went and retrieved a cordless phone. Who the hell was he calling? Oh. Never mind. I should have guessed. "Hi! Did I wake you up from a nap or are you just out of it? Oh. Yeah -- he's here. Ask him yourself, dude. No. No. Oh just let him tell you. Uh...OK. I promise. I don't know, man. Ask him." I knew he was going to hand me the phone. He did. "Hello?" "Dennis! Having fun? Kev showed me your senior picture and you're a handsome young lad. Did you skip a few grades? You look like a kid." "No. Just a late bloomer I guess." "Well I can't wait for you guys to get out here so you can enjoy some sunshine. I'll hook you up with Hollywood people too." "Yeah. Uh huh." My butt hole hurt like a stomachache. Pause. "I'll let you boys get back to your Friday night. Good talking to you, Dennis." "Thanks. You too. Here's Kevin." I handed over the phone. "Yeah. Well -- he's a little shy. No. I know. Let me handle it, OK? Yeah. Bye." "So...that was Uncle Ray, huh?" "The one and only. Neither of you make good first impressions - no offence. He's super excited to meet you though." He handed me a fresh drink and then came out to sit next to me at the bar. "He knew that tonight was the night I was going to break you in. I told him it went just fine." "Break me in?" "I couldn't bring a virgin out to L.A. You understand. He wants me to get you used to the idea of sex for fun. Want to fuck again in the morning?" "Maybe. I need to think about stuff...talk about it." "Thinking is fine, but overthinking is a waste of time. Can you suck me again?" "Not now." I kind of wanted to taste his sperm in my mouth. There was no going back from here. In the chill of the night/At the scene of a crime/Like a streak of light/He arrives just in time
  8. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION 1995 I was in the middle of my sophomore year of college when I suddenly realized that all of my closest friends were from single-parent families or 'broken homes'. All of my crew had seen some trouble in their childhood. Alcoholism, divorce, suicide, periods of homelessness, etc. I knew nothing of those things in my own history. My parents were boring, white, middle-class and stable. I began to wonder why I had chosen these friends and/or why they'd chosen me. Years later I asked a therapist about this and her response was fairly sensible. "Maybe they're drawn to your stability...or you are drawn to their chaos. Or maybe it's just a fluke." OK. My best friend Andrea never knew her real father. She just referred to him as 'my sperm donor'. I always played with that term in my head. I'd imagine random dudes walking up to one of those red kettles you see next to people ringing a bell and jacking off into it. The whole thing would be close to overflowing with milky sperm by the end of the day. It was fun to fantasize about. I never talked about it, but probably everyone knew I was gay. I was never asked. 1999 I'd graduated with a degree in Industrial Design...which was just something I happened upon. You know your TV remote? The shape of it and the spacing between the buttons was all decided by an industrial designer somewhere. Not all that interesting -- except to other designers. I was recruited by a company in a decent-sized city with a depressingly-large Mormon population. I'd always thought those freaks were all kept in Utah, but apparently they had taken over other places. I'd put in a good year or two at this place before looking elsewhere. I pretty much hated everything about my new life. The job itself wasn't so bad, but most all of the citizens were religious zombies with six or seven kids. I couldn't escape them. The only people I talked to on a regular basis were the brassy, overweight secretary at work (I swear Bette Midler could play her in a movie) and one of the janitors in my apartment building. Roy was a friendly little Mexican bear with a winning smile. I guess he liked me because I didn't look down on his job or have the lofty attitude that so many of the white-collar young snots in my building had. I always said 'hello' when I saw him when he was mopping or vacuuming or whatever. He spoke perfect English (with only the faintest of accents) and came across as pretty intelligent. "Good morning, Roy. Are you always on the clock?" "Seems like it, doesn't it? I'm going through a divorce right now and I need all the hours I can get." "Sorry to hear that. Kids?" He shook his head 'no'. "No, I suppose that is a blessing." "Oh well...I'm running late. Gotta get to work." "Have a wonderful day, Tim." Well, it was the opposite of 'wonderful'. I fell om some rain-soaked concrete steps outside and broke my damn ankle, Because it happened on company property, the security team made me give a pee sample. My understanding is that if I were on drugs or drunk, they wouldn't be liable. Because I was clean, they had to cover all of my hospital bills and give me time off. It was a generous amount of leave because they were legally obligated. Luckily, it was a simple break and wouldn't require surgery. The pain pills kicked ass. I was pretty much helpless while medicated but I didn't care. I had cable TV and the internet. This would be a sort of drugged vacation. Worse things happened to people. I got around pretty well with crutches. TV game shows and reruns got tiresome within 48 hours. Computer porn didn't do much for my boredom because the pain pills had numbed me in all kinds of unhelpful places. I only left the apartment to get my mail, a newspaper or a soda from the vending machine. It was on one of those little ventures out that I ran into Roy. "Holy Christ! What happened to you??" "I broke my ankle, but I'm healing fast." "Your right foot - so you can't drive, right?" "No. Not for another sixty days." "Do you need things from the store?" "Nah. I have an attendant who comes by every other day to get me what I need. I don't even have to pay for any of it." "Thanks be to God. You look very tired." "Just the pills. I came down to get a Mountain Dew so I could wake up a little." "Stay there. I'll get it for you. Bottle or can? They have both." "Can's fine. Thanks." He returned with a Dew and wouldn't let me pay him. "It's cool. I got a key to the machine. I'll bring you another one later after I clean the windows down here." "I appreciate it, Roy. I'll leave the door unlocked because I sometimes fall asleep and don't hear the knocking." He seemed surprised by my offering of trust. "No no. Lock your door. I have keys to every apartment." "Oh. OK." "I will always knock first." "OK. Well...drop by any time. My schedule is all messed up when I'm not working." On the elevator ride back up, I wondered why I didn't feel uneasy about some guy being able to just walk right into my home. I guess it's the reality of apartment living. You never really own anything as a renter -- not even privacy. And Roy was a good person. I believed that, I watched some really dumb game shows for a few hours, and then there was the 'knock' I'd been looking forward to. "Come on in." Roy entered and was a little pissed off that I hadn't locked the door. He was carrying a six-pack of Corona and a Mountain Dew. "You think this place is so safe? It seems that way, but it's really not." "I'm pretty medicated, Roy. I forget things." "I'll lock it for you when I leave. I brought us some beers. You like Corona?" I'd never tried it. "Yeah, but I can't drink alcohol while taking these pills. Have one yourself, though." "Great. I need one. I like your place...your TV is very big. My soon-to-be ex wife kept ours and now I just watch a little portable thing with a broken antenna." He opened a beer and rested it on his knee. "Life sure hasn't turned out like I'd hoped." That was the kind of statement that is meant to prompt followup questions, so I obliged. "How did you want it to turn out, Roy?" "I wanted to stay married and raise a bunch of kids and give them happy lives. It wasn't meant to be." "Your wife couldn't have children?" "Wouldn't have them. Not with me anyway." "Oh. Sorry." "There's more to it, but I don't much like to talk about that stuff. Not now." He had a few more beers and then left the rest of the in my refrigerator. After a few more doctor appointments, I was told I was close to 100 % healed. Good news except they cut me off the pain pills cold turkey. I had no idea how much I'd depended on them, but at least I only had a few sleepless nights instead of some crazy freak out like you see on TV shows about addiction. I still had a bit of a limp but was assured that it would go away in a few weeks. During all this progress and healing, Roy was a frequent visitor. I wondered if I was his only friend. He had really been my only friend for the last two months. We talked for hours...well, he talked mostly while I listened. He needed an outlet for his frustration and grief about his failed marriage and lack of children. "I had nine brothers and sisters. Nine! We were so close and took care of each other." "Are you Catholic?" "Yeah, technically. But that's not why I want kids. I can't explain it. So, you back to work on Monday?" "Yup. I'm actually looking forward to getting back into a routine." "Well - we have to celebrate on Saturday night. I'll cook you dinner and bring some wine. You stopped the pain pills, right?" "Yeah, but you don't have to cook for me, man. We can go out somewhere." "Too late.I already bought most of the stuff. You have skillets? Pans?" "Yes. Rarely-used ones." He chuckled and left. My oven had only been used for cooking frozen pizza, and my stove had never been used. Mom had loaded me up with cookware when I first moved here. Is it weird that I was sort of thinking of the upcoming dinner as a 'date'? I told myself it wasn't. He was straight and not at all what you'd call 'my type'. So anyway. I got up pretty ear;y on Saturday morning and went to the mall. I needed the walk -- to help rebuild my leg muscles and also to burn off some nervous energy. I picked up assorted things here and there...throw pillows, scented candles, wine glasses and these really snazzy rock coasters with what looked like fossils inside. It wasn't a date, but I was preparing as if it were. I'm stupid. Roy was a friend - not a suitor. Of course he arrived early - before I had fully settled myself into the right mood. "Wow. It smells nice in here. Candles? I need to get some of those." He came with two loaded bags of stuff and went directly to my kitchen like he lived here too. "Cool - wine glasses! I forgot to even ask you if you had any." He clanked around at my oven and shelves while I just stood like a giant pigeon in the middle of my living room. I thought about turning the TV on but was thinking maybe I should go keep him company in the kitchen while he cooked. "You got some music? I like to hear music when I cook." "What do you like?" "It's your party, buddy. Pick something and I'll pour us some wine." This would require a little thought and I wasn't prepared. I stuck in David Byrne's first solo CD. I loved it and it was very influenced by Latin culture. It started and was maybe a little too loud. I went to the kitchen. Roy had pretty much taken over everything and was already browning some crumbled meat in a skillet and adding various seasonings. The oven was also on. He handed me a glass pf dark red wine. "Casa Medaro. It's not easy to find. Try it." I knew absolutely nothing about wine except that the few times I'd tasted it I hadn't liked it so much. "It's good, huh?" It was...which is good because he brought three bottles of it. "What are you making? It smells wonderful." "This and that. Pull up a chair and chat with me as I chop vegetables...these knives look like they've never been used." They hadn't. "Doesn't mean you don't have to sharpen the from time to time. My father taught me that." I finally noticed how Roy was dressed. I'd only ever seen him in his dark blue coveralls but now he was in a nice polo shirt, shorts and sandals. His short, powerful legs were covered with black fur and I had this image of him standing in the shower with rivulets of water tracing little paths through the thick black hair. His wife was an idiot for letting him go. The food was incredible and I might have overdone it with the compliments. We'd already polished off one and half bottles of wine by the time the meal was finished. I blew out the candles when we came back into the living room. Their scent wasn't making much headway against the cooking smells. I turned the music down a little and told my guest to make himself comfortable. Now what? I didn't want to overthink this. "Whoa. Cool coasters. Are those little fossils? You should have seen all the fossils I used to find in Coahuila. That's where my parents are from. Let's finish up the second bottle. My divorce was final as yesterday. I don't have any more legal bills, but I also don't have much of anything else either. Bitch got everything." "Everything??" "Yeah. In every way possible." "Your lawyer should have worked harder on your behalf." "Let's just say that she had me over a barrel. Let's open the last bottle. I have two more at my place if we decide we need more." He took off his sandals which I guess some would consider rude, but I liked that he felt at home here...plus it gave me a chance to admire his fat little toes. He padded back to the kitchen and fetched the tasty wine. I don't think I'd ever drank so much and still felt so alert and mostly normal. My antenna was up because I'd been around troubled people for so long and it seemed like he wanted to talk about something, but I couldn't push him right now. "Want to watch a movie?" He shook his head and handed me a way-too-full glass. "No no. Let's just talk. Tell me what your job is again...I still don't quite understand what you do." "I design everyday things to make them easier for people to use. Right before my accident, we were working on new ATM machines. They have to be the right height and simple to understand and also look nice. The bank rejected our first proposed design because it didn't look 'friendly'." Roy nodded as if he understood. "So yeah...I have HIV." What? Wow. I mean, wow. I wasn't expecting that. "Is that why you're getting a divorce?" "Pretty much. That's really your first question? Huh. I figured you'd ask me how I got it...." "I shouldn't have asked anything. I should have just said 'I'm sorry.' Blame the wine. I'm not a drinker." "So...do you want to know?" His eyes were full of hurt. "Only if if you want to tell me, Roy." He shrugged. "It was so stupid. I never went to college, but I always followed my friends when they went to Padre Island for spring breaks. Drunk chicks with hardly clothes on and lots of alcohol automatically guarantees a good time. But stuff goes on there. Bad stuff. That's all I can say for now." "It's fine, Roy. I mean it's not 'fine'...it's just... I'm fine. I was blessed with a really good pair of ears in case you need to talk." "I know this. My wife is still negative somehow. But she wouldn't go near my dick after I told her. I wanted so much to have kids... lots of them. Magic Johnson's wife didn't leave him and she had one of his babies even." "And that was a while ago. There are probably all kinds of new drugs now." "Yeah. Probably too expensive for me. You're a guy, Tim...don't you wish you could spread your seed? It's biological. I can't even give away my genes now." "Some people are missing limbs or have brain damage, Roy. Some people don't even get the chance to be alive. My mom had three miscarriages before I was born. I'm not diminishing your pain or anything, I'm just saying that life is a roll of a dice." He looked down and took another sip of wine. "I wish I had donated sperm when it was clean...then at least I might have some kids out there somewhere." I tried to cheer him up by telling him how I used to imagine guys donating sperm on the street. He looked at me funny. "That's a very strange thing to imagine, Tim. It's...it's so sad that nobody would even pay a cent for my seed now." "I would." "What? OK, no more wine for you, buddy. You have been over-served." "Not so much, really. You told me a big secret and now I'll tell you one -- I'm gay." His expression didn't change in the slightest. "Yeah. I guess maybe I knew that. You're too clean and too polite. I'm totally straight, but if I was gay I'd marry you so fast." That was a very nice thing to say. I would have accepted his proposal. "Thanks, Roy. You'd make a great husband -- even if you weren't handsome and couldn't cook such great food." He smiled at last. "You think I'm 'handsome'?" "Oh yeah. Very." "I still think you're just too drunk." Unless I was very much mistaken, he had dropped a hand to his crotch to hide a growing boner. "I can help you with that." Shit. Maybe I was drunk. "You...you'd suck me? Even with the HIV?" I hadn't even meant oral sex -- I was just going to jack him off, but okay. "It's pretty much safe. I'd even pay you for the chance." "Yeah. I won't touch you and I won't cum in your mouth. Ten bucks." "Deal." I hadn't even bothered to notice how things were moving. It seems like we were just discussing ATM's. I quickly got on my knees right between his furry legs in one liquid motion. He stood up and pulled down his shorts. No underwear. I had to wonder if he hadn't seen this coming (so to speak). His dick was not massive, but it was chubby and curved severely upward toward the tip. How his wife never managed to never get infected was one of God's mysteries. I was careful not to touch him with my hands. I just opened my mouth and let him put the head of his dick past my lips. "Ahhhh! I never thought I'd ever feel my dick sucked again!" He stabbed that dagger of a dong farther in with each thrust. I don't know if he knew this was my first time. He said he wouldn't touch me, but he grabbed handfuls of my hair as he did his thing. "Yeah...suck that cock!" I imagined he had his eyes closed or was looking at the ceiling - or anything else besides the male blowing him. "OK! Stop! I'm gonna cum! STOP!" I did. I missed that penis as soon as it was out of my mouth. He was shooting his load now over my head. I turned my face up to catch what I could and saw he was looking straight down at me. He knew I wanted at least a taste and he aimed it for my nose. Drops and dribbles landed on my eyelids and lips. It was so much warmer than I expected. "Wow." The CD had ended at some point and I hadn't even noticed. I stood up and savored the flavor of Roy for a a second before finishing my glass of wine. There were a few pubes in my mouth. "Thanks, man." He pulled up his shorts. "YOU are thanking ME??" "Thanking you for your kind donation. Thanking you warmly." It was kind of awkward to just continue the evening like nothing happened so Roy decided he should call it a night. "I'll stop by tomorrow and do the dishes. Good night, Tim." As soon as he was gone, I lied flat on the floor and beat off. If this is how satisfying sex always was, I'm sorry I'd never tried it before. After the orgasm, I realized I'd forgotten to give him the ten dollars. I'd finish the rest of the wine left in the bottle and wait until he was probably asleep and then go slip a twenty under his door. Hell, I'd leave a fifty dollar bill if I had that. I turned on the TV and found some B movie that only a drinker could possibly find amusing. I fished a twenty out of a little stash of money I kept on hand for emergencies. The building was quiet for a Saturday night as I took the elevator down to the first floor where Roy lived in a little studio apartment. I'd briefly thought of leaving a note too, but maybe that wouldn't be wise since he might have all kinds of second thoughts about what we'd done. I sure wasn't. I slept so soundly that night and woke up fairly late with only the smallest of hangovers. I showered, dressed and then went to wash the dishes. The twenty had been returned through the crack in my door. A little post-it was attached. You don't have to pay for donations, R Roy knocked on my door around 2 that afternoon. My heart did a cartwheel. He was in nice casual clothes again and looked like a million bucks. How did I ever think he wasn't my type? "How you feeling today, amigo?" "Fine. Really fine. Good to see you again." "I'm ready to help you clean up." "It's all done. You left your corkscrew and I even washed that." He plopped down on my couch and removed his sandals again. "The game is on. You follow the Diamondbacks?" "Off and on. I still have those Coronas you left a while back. Want one?" "Sure. Why not?" By the fourth inning, I was sucking his dick again. It wasn't planned or expected by either of us. I even touched the back of his calves this time. I knew he wanted me to swallow his load this time but he just wouldn't do it. He pulled out again and baptized me with hot seed. I got a big glob in my eye which stung like fuck, but I didn't indicate my pain in an way. He just pulled his shorts on again and we finished watching the game as if nothing happened. We chatted like buddies and drank the beers. The routine remained the same on an almost daily basis. We'd hang out, I'd suck him and he'd shoot all over my face. I kept trying to hold him in my mouth as long as I could...and one day he came in my mouth, and we didn't ever discuss it. By the middle of Summer, I'd swallowed a gallon of his cum. He enentually let me hold hold his hairy ass as he thrust. It was perfect. He got to release his seed and I got to be on the receiving end. On July 4th, he brought over a box of wine. I knew they sold it like this, but had never tried it. It was a 'blush' and Roy assured me it was "better than you'd think". It wasn't bad. Not bad at all. We were watching "A League of Their Own" on TV and enjoying the wine and friendly talk like usual. "Isn't it always weird how late it gets dark this time of year? It makes the days seem so long." It wasn't night yet but we heard random fireworks outside. "After dark, the park across the street is supposed to have one of those big public firework displays." "Can we see it from here?" "No. Not from this room, but my bedroom faces the park." I didn't mean for that to be any sort of suggestive invitation, but it probably came out that way. "Cool. We can watch it there. It should be dark in an hour. More wine?" We'd brought the box out to the living room and were just refilling during commercial breaks. I didn't want to put another movie in when "League" had ended. I wanted to talk as dusk approached. I needed to talk but had no idea how to start. "I read an article in Newsweek about all these great new AIDS drugs coming out. Some of them can make the virus undetectable in your blood." "Yeah, and I bet I could afford exactly none of them." "Too bad you don't look more like me. You could use my I.D. and insurance card to get care." "Yeah. If you had HIV, you could get those pills and we could share them." It's funny how an idea can spark and spread like fire through dry grass. I was thinking about things I never thought I'd ever consider. It was almost dark. "Bring the wine and let's go watch the show." My bedroom was as neat and nice as the rest of the place. Roy made himself comfortable on my bed and propped up on the pillows as I opened the blinds. I turned off the lights to better see the fireworks. I knew these things never started on time, but I wanted to lie in bed with him in the lush darkness. He'd undressed completely as if he had been reading my mind. "You know I'm not gay, Tim. Right?" "Yes." "Still, I'd like to fuck you and give you my HIV. Would you be willing?" "Oh yes. I was going to suggest that if you didn't." "OK. I've fucked a man before...it's probably how I got the disease in the first place. But you have to be sure you want to make this sacrifice for me. We can get those new drugs if you test positive." "My plan exactly." I turned over on my stomach without thinking too much about how it probably wouldn't be too practical for each of us to take half-doses of a medicine - it might even be harmful. I'd just let him have all of it, and I'd bide my time. There...solved. I wanted him to fuck me so bad. That was the goal. He spit on my butt crack and rubbed the hard head up and down to get some on himself. He spit again and then again. He was jerking himself off. "I want to make this as quick as I can for you. I'm almost ready... OK. Let's do this." I had never once imagined that it would be such a hot, searing pain. I winced and sucked in air between my teeth. "You OK?" "I...yeah..don't go in any more just now. Let me...ow...let me get used to it for a second." "Deal. Wow...it feels so nice! Hot and tight. Damn! How about just a little more?" "Yeah." I figured it couldn't possibly get any worse. But it did somehow. I could feel the sensitive skin down there rip a little. No way. I needed to stop this now, but then...but the the searing turned into more of an ache. Tolerable. It didn't feel good, but I could survive this. He was all the way in when he let himself collapse on my back. It was like a heavy, hairy cushion covering me and I liked that part. He kept up a steady pace of pumping and grunting. "I'm about to let it out..I'm ready to...FUCK!" He was shooting that tainted payload deep into my ruined ass. It happened faster than I could think. He probably did that on purpose before I changed my mind. We stayed prone like that for a good twenty seconds while he caught his breath. "Thank you, Tim. You doing that for me means so much." I needed the bathroom right away for obvious reasons. I took care of things as best I could and returned to the bedroom where I saw the still-naked Roy wiping off his dick of with some tissues from my nightstand. "You OK? The fireworks just started." They certainly had. "Yeah. You can use the shower if you want, I'll get you a towel." "Maybe later. Let's watch the show." We both relaxed on the bed and made random comments about the display...as if nothing even remotely new had happened. I couldn't stop my overactive imagination from picturing what the virus was doing in my body now. Was it blasting away my immune system like dynamite? Or had the fuse just been lit? Was it like there were little vandals in my bloodstream, randomly breaking things in random organs? The fireworks ended about an hour later and Roy said he was too tired and comfortable to get dressed and leave and the promptly fell asleep. So our breeding sessions continued for a few more months. It felt like we were lovers except that we didn't kiss or show any physical affection when we were together. I was just a release for a friend who liked to shoot his seed in warm places. I would also his means to medical treatment. Was I as okay with that and that only? For how long? I kept putting off getting tested and Roy didn't push me to get it over with. I was waiting for an appointment with my regular doctor in early November when I always went to get a flu shot. As November 2 approached, Roy hit me with the news that his brother had gotten a really good job in San Diego with a landscaping business. "He said he'd get me hired and the pay is really good - and comes with health insurance!" "Wow. Congratulations. It's supposed to be very beautiful there." I don't think I said that very convincingly. "When are you leaving?" "The week of Thanksgiving. I need to sell all my shit and just go." That's it? No mention of me or the damage he'd done to me? No apology? "We can go celebrate tonight if you want to." "No. Just go. We're done here. Goodbye, Roy." He looked surprised and hurt, but I mean -- what the fuck? I didn't give him much of a chance to say anything, just showed him to the door and locked it after he left. It was over, but it never would anything anyway. Of course I tested positive and my very cool doctor assured me she'd see to it that I'd have a long life. I also started seeing a therapist in the same building. He and I are still sorting through all of this. One concrete obstacle we keep hitting is how I could feel mourning for a love I'd never technically had. He encouraged me to write about it. I just did.
  9. Thanks for the follow. Your name looks familiar...did you have a tumblr site for a time?

    1. jaybird
    2. Toon


      That's it!! Thanks, man -- I've got some archives to go through.

    3. jackingymboy


      Hey man, Ya' that's my tumbler. It's gotten kinda dark n' twisted over the years. but I hope you guys can get off on it. thanks


  10. NOTE: I am revisiting and rewriting a tale I'd posted a while back that was removed because of it's violent/ death-oriented content. It was certainly not intentional, but it disturbed a number of members and I was reprimanded. It has always bugged me that I'd put so much work into that story only to fuck up the ending. I resubmit this revised version that will hopefully make amends for my previous bad judgement. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION 1990 I'm Joey. I tried to go by 'Joe' as I got older, but I guess I looked too much like a 'Joey' to be shed of that name. Whatever. I was 22 back then and still pretty pissed that Dukakis had lost the election. I lived in cozy little apartment near the company I worked for. It was a medium-sized city with a decimated downtown. 'White Flight' had left our once thriving city streets empty. This was no big deal to me because I'd never seen the 'glory days' when beautiful restaurants, jazz clubs and department stores thrived. I'd only known that section as decayed. The city council was making an effort to revitalize downtown by trying to build pricey lofts and office space. I kept track of the firs and starts of these efforts in the morning paper. One story that caught mt eye was about a little park near the bus station that was reportedly the scene of all kinds of unseemly activity (drug dealing, gay stuff and plain old vagrancy. The whole park would have been dozed over if not for the fact that it was WW 1 memorial, with statues of random generals. The lost souls who ended up there were spared. For now. This was also the time period when I realized I'd always be gay. For the longest time I thought I could break it like a bad habit by just not thinking about men. Of course that didn't work. I gave up efforts to cure myself and just surrendered to porn. There was an adult book store on Pennsylvania Street where I bought magazines and video tapes. I really loved the older pre-condom stuff. I developed a preference for certain scenes and certain performers. I liked 'em big, brawny and mean. Dick size didn't even matter to me as much as the way it was used. Jon Vincent was my favorite. Man! He always fucked his bottoms with no tenderness and a lot of verbal abuse. I had a type, an ideal. Even though I had no experience with gay men or even sex of any kind. I basically beat off a lot. There was too many lofts and not enough tenants according to the paper. Landlords were panicked and cutting rent across the board. Maybe I'd check a few of them out on the first weekend of April. The streets down there were set up in a very schizophrenic way. Some of them would change from two-way to one-way without much warning. They'd curve and change names as well. So I was lost. I never found the Bradford Building, but I did find the legendary park that had made the news so often. I decided it wouldn't hurt to just drive through it, It was a mild, sunny day and nobody would try to carjack my old clunker. It was nice and better maintained than you'd imagine. Lots of parked cars were everywhere. Most of them were empty, but a few of them contained a solitary driver. I saw a few young guys were wandering around like tourists, but others were lurking among the trees and bushes. I could pretty much guess the kind of stuff going on there. I hadn't arrived at a point where I could even imagine doing anything like that. I couldn't conquer my fears any more than I could my sexuality. Oh well. On the way home, I saw a little bar with a lavender neon triangle in the window. It was called 'Soaks' or 'Soakies' or something like that. I knew there were gay bars in the city but never driven by one before. OK. Here was one of them. I doubt I'd ever be able to step foot in the place, but who knows? Well, I knew by 9 o'clock that night. I'd go. It would be adventure for the year.There was very little chance I'd find my ideal there or anywhere, but this needed to be done. It was only 8 PM on a Saturday night, but it felt like I'd been getting myself ready for days already. Some aunt had given me a bottle of wine for graduation last year and I decided it was time to open it. Yuck! I would never be one of those 'wine people'. I drained about half of it before I felt I could leave the apartment. Maybe the whole bottle was needed because I still thought I might chicken out. It was like the time I took a public speaking class and just had to force myself to stand in front of my high school peers and act like it was the normal thing in the world. I did it back then so I could do it now. It was called "Soaks" and it was the only open business on the whole block. The whole front of the place was plate glass which indicated it had been some kind of retail shop in the old days. But it looked friendly and safe...but a little filthy. OK. At least was plenty of close parking on the street and coins in the meter weren't required after 6. I sat and waited in the car for a good fifteen seconds. The key was to just go in and pretend I'd been here a million times before. The first thing I noticed when I entered was the bartender. He was a very tall guy in his late 30's/early 40's. He had some blondish-gray stubble and a severely receding hairline. His arms were very long. Marfan Syndrome. Abraham Lincoln had it - a genetic thing I remembered from biology class. The second thing I noticed was the sparse crowd. The guys sitting at the bar were in their 60's and 70's. The dudes in the back were all young, tattooed and looked fresh out of prison. Mr. Marfan stopped me before I got five steps inside. "You got I.D.?" "Sure do." My face showed that I wasn't the least bit pissed off. I just fished it out of my wallet and handed it to him. "Oh. You're just barely legal -- don't blame me. It seems like a hundred years since I was asked for I.D." "No big deal." I tried not to study him like he was a slide being shown in anatomy class. "First time here?" I took a seat at the bar where there were empty stools on either side of me. I was still easing into this. "New visitors get a free beer." "Cool." He handed me a can of Miller Lite. A can. I assumed all bars served beer in bottles but I guess not. "Let me know when you need another. I own the place so you don't gotta tip." I almost said 'cool' again but caught myself in time. "Do you have a pinball machine here?" "Yeah, but it's out of order. Sorry. There's one of them touch-screen games right over there at the bar." I looked and saw what he was talking about, but there was a really drunk - almost comatose- old guy next to it. No. Not now. "Not much of a crowd for Saturday night." I sucked (and still suck) at small talk. "Take a good look because this is as crowded as it gets. I'm James by the way." He offered up his crazy long hand to shake. My own hand felt like a child's as I shook it. "I'm Joey. Or Joe. Whatever's easiest to remember." "Oh you'll be easy to remember. You just move into one of the lofts across the street?" "No. I'm thinking about lofts, but I'm still in midtown right now." "Can I ask why you're even in this place?" "I saw it earlier and thought I'd check it out." He noticed that I kept glancing over at the game. "You can play that. Don't mind Drucker. He's harmless. Need some quarters?" "Nope. I'm good for now." Years of dorm and apartment living had made me hoard quarters like they were made of gold. I sauntered over to the empty seat in front of the machine as if it was routine. I felt James looking at me. Sure enough, the nodding drunk guy next to me didn't even notice my presence. He smelled like my grandpa. Scotch. The crowd started to thin even more. I was waiting for somebody to approach me, but none of the did. My Jon Vincent was at some other bar tonight. That was okay. I was kicking ass at the trivia games. My initials spelled out 'J.A.T.' and I had the highest score in every category except sports. James came by and handed me another beer. "Tonight is a '2 for 1' special." It was a still in a can. but it was cold. Right after I ran out of quarters and was trying to figure out if I should leave or not, Drucker fell backwards and landed on the floor with a thud. "SHIT! James! Call an ambulance!" He looked a little annoyed. "No no. This happens every night. I call him a cab and charge it to his tab." I wasn't so sure. He was on the floor. I knelt down and tried talking to him. "Can you open your eyes? Can you speak? Just breathe, OK?" His eyes fluttered open. "It's Charlie Sheen! I can't believe it!" Uh. "No. Are you able to stand?" "I'll stand up if you kiss me, Charlie." No way was my first kiss going to be with a drunk, toothless old fart. And then he was out cold again. James walked from behind the bar in no great hurry. "Can you help me lift him up and get him out to the sidewalk?" No. Yes. It's not anything I'd ever counted on doing, but there was really no way I could say 'no' at this point. It wasn't so difficult to lift him with James' help but getting him dragged to the door was a bit more of a challenge. By the time we got him out to the street, the cab was already there. We poured him into the backseat and stood there for a few seconds before returning to the bar. "This happens every night?" "Pretty much. Sometimes I convince him to toddle home before he gets to that state." The place was empty now and it was barely even 11. "Glad I could help." "Well you earned a free shot, Joey. What would you like?" "Whatever. I'm not picky." Truth was I didn't know anything about hard liquor. I knew it came in brown or clear. "Here. Top shelf whiskey. I might as well use it all before the city shuts me down for good. That'll be fine with me because I own the whole building. I'll make enough to retire and go live on a beach somewhere." That sounded nice. "Hey -- want to hear some music?" "Sure." The shot was harsh but it went down easy enough. I think I actually even liked it. "I've got a bunch of mix tapes from the 80's. That's probably something you'd appreciate." Oh, it was. The bar may have been in sorry shape, but the stereo/speaker system was very decent. The opening sounds of 'Ghost Busters' came spilling out from the walls. Nice. I asked for another beer and insisted on paying for it this time. He lowered the volume a bit and emerged from behind the bar to come join me. He brought my beer and a whole bottle of that expensive whiskey. OK. This night had been full of the unexpected. James sat his lanky frame next to me. "I need to get off my feet for a little. We'll sit here in the VIP section. You mind?" "Of course not." "So is this really the first gay bar you've ever been in?" Did I tell me him that or did he just know? "Yeah. My diary was getting pretty boring, so I thought I'd add a little something new to it." He chuckled and poured us two more shots. "Most cute young guys like you usually go to dance clubs or the gym to meet men." "I always imagine places like that as being full of people who know how to be there already. They have their own secret handshakes and inside jokes. I...I don't feel welcome." "You think too much, Joey. Have another shot." James spun his stool around to face me and, when I didn't do the same, he turned me around too. I noticed how roughed up his jeans were. He'd worn two holes right over his bony kneecaps. There were some leg hairs visible and it was incredibly sexy somehow. Most of my porn favorites were shaved and waxed within an inch of their lives. The whiskey was starting to loosen my tongue and so I spoke about my particular tastes when it came to men and sex. I just came right out and admitted that I liked aggressive, verbal tops who were verbal. It's like I was reading a diary entry out loud. James nodded. "So what do you do?" "I just started at Plexico -- in the I.T. department." "No. What do you do when your dick gets hard? Just stay at home and beat off?" Id never felt so pathetic. I helped myself to another shot. "Well...I guess so.' "I'm sorry -- that was harsh. You're probably smart to go that route for now." I looked in his dark hazel/brown eyes. He was kind. I couldn't help but reach down and touch his exposed knees. Warm skin and bone. "Rapture" by Blondie played next. I was instantly a 13 year old again. Face to face, dance cheek to cheek/ One to one/ man to man/ Toe to toe/ Don't move too slow... Remember being that age? When music said so much and spoke to you in code. James returned my touch with his own. He stroked my hair with his skinny fingers. And then we were kissing. Warm, wet, whiskey-flavored lips and a touch or two of our tongues. Wow. Dear Diary.... "One more shot, Joey. After that, I'll have to call you a cab. Two more, and you'll have to come upstairs and spend the night." "Upstairs?" "My apartment is on the second floor. It's kind of a mess, but I wasn't expecting Charlie Sheen to show up tonight." "Oh, you heard that? I've never been compared to an actor before. Poor Drucker." "He's lived quite a life." James poured me another shot. And then another one. I wondered how long it would take for my stomach to start protesting. He was just taking sips from the bottle now. "Will you please kiss me again?" He obliged and it was a little more intense this time. The Bangles' 'Eternal Flame' began. Timing. I made a decision right then to just let James take over and direct the rest of the night. "For future reference - you don't have to ask. One more shot and I'll lock up and we can go upstairs." I downed it as he secured the door and register, set the alarm and tossed our shot glasses into a sink behind the bar. He shut off some of the lights and then led me to a door at the back which he unlocked. "Careful. These stairs are a little dangerous." He was for sure right about that. It was a steep climb and the steps were narrow. I couldn't imagine a guy with such long feet going up and down these every day. At the top of the stairs was a dimly lit hallway. It was very dark and retro...like a scene from some David Lynch movie. The inside of his apartment was nice, if a little unorganized. "Have a seat. Can you a beer or a Coke or something? Oh wait, I drank the last Coke this morning." "Beer's fine." He brought two cold bottles over to the couch and sat down next to me. Maybe it was my imagination or the booze, but I swear I could feel heat coming off of his body. Possibly he was running a fever. He put a long arm around me. "Where we we?" Then we were kissing again and this time it felt like he was consuming my whole face. We were both breathing deeply. The smell of lust combined with alcohol fumes. His tongue darted into my right ear which made me rock hard. I'd know from that point on that my ears were a weakness that any man could take advantage of. "I can give you what you've been looking for. Almost. I can't fuck you without a condom. I've got AIDS. I'd love to give you everything else, though." "Yes." I imagined the ways I could convince him to change his mind about the rubber. He stood up and started to strip with his back turned to me. He was so skinny, but also had some muscle definition in his legs. His butt looked a little odd -- like all the fat had been sucked out of it, leaving all the skin to just hang. He turned around and I saw his boner jutting straight out. It was a nice length, but kind of skinny... like the rest of him. "Take off your clothes, dumb faggot!" He noticed my mixed reaction. "You wanted verbal abuse, right? Or was that just a bluff?" I got out of my clothes in record time. "Good boy. Now get on the floor and crawl over to me. Now!" I did as told. It was as erotic as I could have ever imagined. "Stay! Now suck on this dick like your life depended on it...because it just might." He had a pocketknife in his left hand that I hadn't noticed before. Shit! He was good at this! His pointy cock was sizzling hot against my lips. I worked my tongue over the purple head and savored the subtle flavors and textures. Then he held the blade against the top of my ear. "If I feel any teeth, I'll cut your goddamn ear off. Think I'm kidding?" I felt the sharp blade press down a little. I don't think he broke the skin, but this was maybe going a little too far. Still, I loved having that hot boner in my mouth and performed what I thought was an excellent blowjob despite the fact that it was my first time. James must have liked what I was doing because he folded up the knife and let it drop to the floor. "Yeah. You got an AIDS dick your mouth, stupid fag. I can feel my oily, filthy precum leaking down your goddamn throat. Like that? Of course you do -- you're a fuckin' perv. " I thought I'd shoot my own load right there and then. "Sit there and savor the taste of HIV. I'll be right back. DON'T MOVE." I didn't. He came back with a bottle of baby oil and a wrapped condom. I was running out of time to talk him out of being 'safe'. "You're lucky, you dumb fuck. This is my last one. You better hope it doesn't break or I'll be flooding your guts with disease. Get on your hands and knees like a dog. Yeah. Like that. Good boy. Look at the floor and don't move." I heard him unwrap the condom and squirt some of the oil on himself. In seconds, he was working those greasy fingers up into my rectum. It was rough and so unromantic -- which was fine with me. I would be experienced after tonight, braver. "Stupid, tight virgin ass. You better pray this rubber is strong. It's going to take some work...and you aren't even worth it. Dumb fag." It started to happen. The solid, swollen head of his sheathed penis was suddenly inside of me. The fantasy shattered into pieces for me. Too much pain. What we'd already done was enough. "NO! Stop!" "Nobody said you could speak, asshole. Hold on. It feels nice in there....yeah!!!" He worked deeper inside of me...and it didn't stop hurting until it suddenly did. He kept up the abusive language..and that's probably what made me loosen up more. "There you go, boy. There's just a layer of latex...thinner than a human hair keeping you protected from millions of AIDS babies. Think about that, faggot." I did, but what I was thinking is that I wish he really were going to breed me good and proper. "Your ride is almost over...I'm gonna ....FUCK!" He stopped and pulled out of me. "Goddamn rubber broke." His voice and tone went back to normal. "Sorry, Joey. We can beat off together if you want. Shit. The thing was probably too old." "No. Go back in. You can pull out when you need to shoot." "That won't work. I can't. Won't." I stayed put and pushed my ass toward him a little. It was subtle, but my intentions should have been crystal clear. They were. "OK. But just for a few seconds.. We can't play around with....Ahhhh!" He had pushed back inside. The nerve endings on his dick must have been dancing because he stayed longer than a few seconds...and went back all the way to down his nuts. He resumed the pace but not the hot talk. I knew and James probably knew I knew what was about to happen. "NO! I ...." It happened. He hadn't really made much of an effort to pull out, and I guess that made him upset - with both of us. He sat down on the floor next to me and started sobbing. "No. I'm so sorry. So SO sorry. I can't take it back." We held each other for several minutes. "Are you mad at me, Joey?" His face was streaked with tears. "Not at all. I'm the one to blame...I wanted it." "I know, but.... I just ruined your life." "That's not certain. It's all up to nature now." He stopped crying and looked at me in the most tender way. "Will you stay the night with me?" I did just that. I went back to Soaks almost every night. I'd built up some upper torso muscles from lifting Drucker off the floor regularly. I might have even started a little bit of a drinking problem. Sometimes James and I had sex and sometimes he just didn't feel well enough. One night he came right out and told me not to come back again. "The city finally bought me out. Bad timing, though. I'm headed into a hospice on Sunday. It's the end, Joey. I don't want you see me like that. Please don't forget me." "Never." And that was the last time I saw him. I'd had all my fantasies fulfilled - which can be very satisfying unless you start developing even darker desires. END
  11. 1980 It's funny and a little depressing to think back at the time when I was so sure I wanted to be a newspaper reporter. I guess I could blame an old TV show called "Lou Grant". I was a little gay teen who had a confusing crush on a news reporter named "Rossi". I didn't know I wanted to go to bed with him back then, I just knew I wanted to sit behind a typewriter and compose copy about late-breaking stories. It's exactly what I wanted to do. Troy wanted to be a sports broadcaster, Shane wanted to be an actor and Karletta was going to have her own beauty salon. We were all 14 and the future seemed so close yet so infuriatingly far away. 1986 I never thought about any other line of work. Journalism. That was decided and I was in college now. The future kept coming faster and faster. I took all the classes I was supposed to. It would be at least two years before I could apply to work on the campus newspaper, but I imagined it constantly. Our school was pretty big and the campus paper had gained some prestige. I read it all -- except for the sports stuff or anything about frats and sororities. There was a lot of controversy about using university funds to supply us with free condoms. I knew about AIDS, and I knew it was mostly a gay sex disease that had no cure. I read it all with a detached interest. I knew I was gay, but had no idea if I'd ever do the butt sex stuff. Not anytime soon. I lived close to my parents and usually visited a few times a month. I did laundry and ate as much of Mom's home-cooking as I could. She always sent me home with food, little gifts and all their old magazines. My favorite was "Smithsonian". There was one issue with a feature about an AIDS activist in London. His name was Ian Furmedge and he was on the European forefront of raising funds for cures and treatments. He had the disease. One whole page was a black and white photograph of him where he was sitting at an antique wood table in his pajamas. He was thin, had a dark beard and his feet were bare. There was a window behind him. The shadows only complimented his thin, handsome face. I read that article so many times, always looking back at the photo. I needed to write him, but how? The only phone number I had was for the subscription department. They'd have no idea. I ended up just addressing a short note to him in care of the Smithsonian's address. It basically just said that I admired his work and also his photo. I thanked him for his efforts. College was hard - mainly because nobody made you do anything. If you failed, too bad. Nobody was there to keep you on the straight and narrow. I was not the most disciplined person back then. I just plugged along. I'd bought a nice frame for Ian's photograph and kept it on my desk so I could look at it all the time. My stoner roommate noticed it once and asked me who it was. "Who's that?" "My dad." He probably wasn't old enough to be my dad, but I was not an expert liar back then. "Really? You don't look anything like him. Is he sick?" "No. Just skinny." "Big feet. Huh. He just doesn't look like a dad." He wandered away in his own private haze. I'm pretty sure I had just failed my German 101 test. I hated that class, but journalism majors had to take eight credit hours of a foreign language. I wanted to just cry at how badly I was doing in that class. Back at the dorm, I checked to see if I had any mail. The slot was usually empty excepts for some little greeting card from Mom or credit card applications for my roommate. Any company that offered that moron credit deserved to go bankrupt. But today I got an actual envelope with an actual handwritten letter in it. It was from overseas! From Ian! Holy Shit! My heart raced. I was alone in the elevator with the prize in my hand. I sniffed the envelope for some reason. It just smelled like mail. Dear Bradley, Cheers from Eaton! Thanks so much for your very nice note. It's the only piece of fan mail I've ever gotten! I wish I liked that story as much as you did. It seemed a bit scattered to me. I'm pleased you enjoyed the photograph of me. I never like how I look on camera. Might I see a picture of you? Are you liking University? Is it stressful? I was born in Argentina and actually lived in the states for some years. New Mexico. I've never been to Denver. Is it quite beautiful there? I picture mountains and snow when I hear "Colorado". I'd very much like to visit there. There's a "World Health" conference in Boulder, CO in the Summer. I'm obliged to attend. Perhaps I'll see you there??? My health is improving at this time, and thank you for asking. I'm taking some new herbal pills from China. It might be all bollocks, but I feel much invigorated. It's good timing because I'm always busy. Are you active in campus AIDS causes? I wish to inspire you to do so if you aren't already engaged in that. It takes some courage, but it's so critical. Please do post me again. I want to know more about you. I picture you at the library, reading and studying. Always, Ian I don't think I took a single breath as I read it all. I hadn't even taken the backpack off my shoulder. I'd opened the envelope so carefully that the seal was intact. His tongue had licked it and I kissed every inch. Stupid and out of character for me. I supposed I was a teen-aged girl now. My Dearst Bradley, So surprised to get such a fast reply! Firstly, I loved the photo you included! So dashing...and so young. You're wearing a coat and tie -- was this a special occasion of some kind? I'm guessing you are 19 or 20. Yes? I'm 41. I probably look older nowadays but no gray hair as of yet. There is wisdom in that face of yours...as well as a bit of trouble. Pardon my query, but have you suffered a loss? Mate, we all wear our pain on a daily basis. Feel free to tell me anything as I am the most excellent listener/reader. Speaking of which -- would you ever imagine calling me? I know it is probably a bit dear to call such a distance, but it can wait a bit. I'm six hours ahead of you...which makes me a bit of a time-traveler (ha). I can tell you that future is fine and looking better each day. To answer your questions: 1. My favorite movie is 'The Maltese Falcon" 2. I listen to mostly classical music, but I do enjoy some pop songs 3. I'm not in a relationship right now. I just don't have the time at present. How about you? Are you with someone? He or she is very blessed indeed. I urge you again to contribute to your university's AIDS programs. Time is almost as valuable as money. It must be difficult to find spare time with your studies. Just try and accept that you are challenged by foreign language. Don't try to be the class prize in German class. Just do enough to pass (I predict you'll get a 'B' or better). Try absorbing the language willingly...without frustration or resentment. Anger and fear are harmful. More photos of me? Surely. I can send the outtakes from The Smithsonian shoot. Or would you something a bit more personal? I am not afraid to share. I'm thinking of you. Luv. I wonder what you are doing and wearing whenever I get a spare moment (not often enough!!) A kiss, Ian That night I called the campus hotline and asked about volunteer programs. The nice girl told me there were only millions of them. "What about 'AIDS prevention'? Or fundraising?" "Oh. Um... lots. Do you want something 'gay specific' or does that matter?" "Gay." I swallowed audibly. She didn't seem the least bit rattled. "Try calling GLSOC. They will help direct you to where the most resources are needed. Got a pen? Here's the number: --- -----. If you're on campus, you only have to dial the last four numbers." "Thank you." "No problem. Anything else?" "No. Good night." My Bradley, Such an uplifting letter from you! The photos stiffened me up nicely -- for a whole day!! I take it you took those in a mirror? Yes? I have the lot of them on my nightstand. You didn't show your willy, but I could picture it well enough from the outline in your skivvies. Quite nice! I am including some of my own. I'm a bit more furry than you. Hope you like them anyway. I know a bloke who works as a photographer. He will print any kind of XXX request you have. I am not pretty, but also not modest. I am here for you to see! I'm happy you went and signed-up with a program. It can make you feel vulnerable to hand out condoms and literature eight there in the open. You're right -- people will assume things about you. Swallow that and stuff it way down. It is worth the effort! We can make a difference, mate. I'm also pleased that you got an 'A' on your German vocabulary test. Congratulations, old bean! I knew you could do it, So funny how I once tried to inspire you and then you've gone and inspired me. Good luck on your final exams. Take care of yourself and get plenty of rest. Love, Ian I looked at each photo ten times. He was mostly in some stage of undress, but never completely nude. He was indeed a hairy man, which I guess I'd always kinda figured. A majority of them were taken somewhere tropical - a resort I'd guess. He wasn't quite so thin whenever these shots were taken. I wondered how I'd ever not think of these images all day, every day. In addition to my preparation for finals, I was also handing out condoms and manning the phone at the Help Line. German was going better after I'd taken Ian's advice. I stopped fighting this ugly language and just let it soak in. My trouble now was getting through a book called "Out of Africa". It was just so dry and so boring. Our final was going to be a surprise question which we would have two hours to complete. Themes, symbolism, etc. were all on the table. I'd read it twice and hope for the best. Sweet Man, Happy Christmas, Love! I hope you enjoy the season with your family. It must be a relief to be done with exams. I barely remember 'Out of Africa', but you were quite correct to zero in the underlying themes of mourning and purity. I gather you've got a brain in that skull of yours. Ha. I always knew that. Thank you for all the nice words about my photographs. You made me blush a deep scarlet!! To answer a few of your queries: 1. I am still doing well. There is a new pill I've been given that has a kick to it. We shall see. 2. Yes, I got a flu shot. Because of my condition, I am usually first in line for the vaccine. 3. The photos were taken in Greece a few years ago. 4. I wear a UK size 14 shoe. I believe that would be a 15 in the US. 5. I spend Christmas with my mum. She's a real plum and you'd like her. Alrighty then. I need to hear your voice so badly. Will you call ring me? Remember the time difference and call during your early afternoon. Or later. Or any hour. I'll leave you my home number and also my mum's in case you want to call during Christmas. I would love that so much. I love you, mate!, Ian It was nice to have time off from school. I'd been reading, studying and taking tests for so long. Would it ever end? My mom and dad treated me like a prince while I was home. I'd made the dean's list which surprised all of us. I'd been a very average student in high school. I'd missed sleeping in my old room..with our giant gray cat sleeping on my chest as I read old comic books late into the night. I ate and ate some more during my visit. One of the guys on my AIDS crisis team was spreading the message that gaining weight was important for being healthy. "Get Fat, Stay Alive" was his slogan. I wasn't sure that was the solution, but it wouldn't hurt to look beefy and ruddy while the plague invaded full force that year. "I wish you'd eaten like this when you were a kid," Mom noted. You need some extra pounds. Wish I could donate some of mine." The day before Christmas Eve, I told them I was doing volunteer work and that it involved global health and population control. My dad approved because it would look good to potential employers. Mom was just happy that I was coming out of my shell and being altruistic. Lying was become easier now. "I may get a grant to do outreach in London." "Oh my! Your passport is still in my dresser drawer. Take it with you when you go back next month. It's all up to date." "I may need to call them while I'm here. Can I do it from here?" "Call overseas? Well...." She looked at my dad. "Let's let Brad look in his stocking now." Inside the stocking (which smelled like our attic) was candy, a new Weird Al cassette tape, two twenty dollar bills and three MCI calling cards. So perfect! I couldn't wait to use them! "We switched to MCI a few months ago," Dad informed me. "It's going to kick AT&T's ass eventually which is why I bought some of their stock. You gotta get in early on emerging technology. "Thank you both so much! I am without proper words right now." I'd unknowingly started talking like Ian. "I need to rest now. I'll let you two men stay up and talk...but not too late. We have a big day tomorrow." Mom toddled off to bed while Dad and I sat at the kitchen table. He and I had been through some rough patches when I was a teen. I once went a month without saying a single word to him. "How about we have some eggnog, Son?" I nodded as he fetched two glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniels. No nog. Having a real adult drink with my father?...sure. "You think the Broncos will do anything in the play-offs? I am always a little pessimistic." We had that in common. "I don't know. Dad? I'm sorry I was such a shit when I was in high school." "That's all in the past. You make me proud, always have. It was my fault too. How's your eggnog?" It was just plain whiskey but I was game. It burned my throat and landed like a bomb in my stomach. OK. I guess this what adult men did. "Is it still snowing?" "I guess. I hope it keeps going -- so we don't have to go to midnight mass tomorrow night. I suppose you still don't believe in God? Your mother and I accept that. We will always love you -- no matter what." I had a feeling he'd been nogging already. "I've always known that, Dad." We had a few more drinks before he scooted me off to bed. I slept like a rock. Morning came fast. I smelled breakfast wafting up the stairs. I opened my eyes and saw that snow was still falling outside my window. Nice. Mom knocked on my door and then came right in. "Wake up, Sweetness! The mail came already and there's a Christmas card for you. It's from England! Season's greetings! I managed to find your home address at the library. They have phone books from all over the world. I hope it's okay to mail you there. I am just missing you now and always. I am finishing up some end-of the-year things before heading to Mum's. Do let your mother take plenty of pictures of you...and send me a few. I anticipate a call from you soon. Love, Ian. I was ecstatic. If the weather let up a bit, I'd have the house to myself tonight when everyone went to mass. I was going to call. I was. The day went by uneventfully. My sister was snowed in at the Boston airport and couldn't make it home. I was guiltily happy about that. She was five years older than me and had always been a bitch. I wouldn't miss her. Ever. Mom made a quick run to the grocery store while my dad and I sat in the living room and had more whiskey. "Can I ask you something, Brad?" "Is it what I think you're going to ask?" "Probably. I guess I don't have to bother with the question now, do I? Let's have another snort." "I'm gay and I've been that way since I could form thoughts. I'm not sexually active." "I don't care if you have sex, Son. Your mother and I were fucking before either of us were out of high school...just be careful. Was that card you got from someone special?" "He's very special, but he and I have never met. He..." I ran out of words. Ian. Mom came home with last-minute stuff from the grocery store. "It smells like a bar in here. What have my two boys been up to?" She grinned. Nobody is in a bad mood on Christmas Eve. "Look at the time! We're not having turkey this year. I'm broiling t-bones instead. The roads aren't bad at all -- I've driven in much worse." "So I guess we're going to Mass then? I hope they don't do a live nativity again." "Oh just go watch a sports game on TV while I get dinner going. Take your booze with you." There was some bowl game on. I hadn't paid attention to any sports except for The World Series. I was always studying, volunteering or thinking of Ian. Or else writing him. Dad and I had never bonded over a game on TV. "Oh hell...who cares about The Pringles Bowl or whatever this is? It's all about TV money." The smells of cooking drifted into the living room. Dad and had more sips of whiskey. "We should watch a Christmas movie. You think? I'll find one somewhere." He landed on some made-for-TV movie with a very holiday feel. We ate and it was nice. I had a nice buzz going so I didn't touch the glass of wine Mom had poured. They left for Mass around 10 PM and I went to my room and listened to the Weird Al tape. I had outgrown him, but what the hell...all my good music was back at school. I read a "Reader's Digest" I'd found in the bathroom. Dad usually talked my mom into going somewhere for a drink after the service, and I knew I'd be asleep by the time they got home. I had a dream about swimming in the ocean where all the sea creatures were rising up to the surface and speaking to me with English accents. I don't remember what they said. I snapped awake at 4:10 AM. I'd left the lamp on. I was so clearly awake. Ian and I were both awake on Christmas day. I needed to call him. BADLY. Deep breath. I fished out one of the MCI cards, Ian's phone number, and a photocopy of Ian's photo. "Hello?," a woman answered. "Good morning. May I please speak with Ian? Is he awake?" "I should say so! We've had breakfast already and opened gifts. Are you the American lad he talked about?" "I'm Bradley." "Yes! I was almost ready to say 'Bobby'. I'm a loon." "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Furmedge." "Hush that. I'm Dee. Oh...here he comes. It was nice speaking with you." "Yes? Is this Bradley?" "Merry Christmas, Ian. Thank you for the card." "I'm hardly believing this! You called! You sound exactly as I thought you might. How do I sound?" "Perfect." He laughed, coughed. "It must be quite early there." "Yes. My parents are still sleeping. Ian? It is so good to talk to you, but I'm suddenly at a loss of things to say." "Me too. Let's take about a twenty minute break and think of things to ask each other. Can I ring you back without waking the whole house?" "Yes. I have my own phone in my room. The number is --- --- -----." "Lovely. I will talk to you in a bit." I crept out of my room and went downstairs. The whiskey bottle was still there, next to the remote. That's exactly the kind of inspiration I needed. I took it to my room and sat at my desk.I dug out an old notebook and some pens. Even after a few shots, I couldn't come up with too much. I turned my radio on , hoping to find something besides Christmas music. 105 Hit Radio was doing top 40 business as usual. It didn't help too much. The phone rang. "Hello? Ian?" "I've not much luck, mate. We don't have to put so much pressure on this conversation. I've been meaning to ask you one thing for a while now...how long have you lived with HIV?" OH SHIT! He'd assumed this whole time that we shared the same virus! I needed to think fast. "A little less than a year." "Sorry, Luv. Still in shock, are we? Well -- you're handling it in a very healthy way. Activism is a form of therapy...at least for me it is." "Yes. Exactly." "I've some news that might cheer you up. Remember how I told you I had a photographer friend? He snapped a whole roll of nude pictures of me. I thought they looked quite artful. They're waiting for you back at your university address. I don't even know if it's legal to send such materials overseas, but it's done. I also sent you some literature about this Summer's conference in Boulder. It could be our chance to meet. Think you can come?" "I've already looked into it and checked with my supervisor at Outreach. She's going to fund it. She might go with me, but she's so cool. She's like Cyndi Laupner if she gained about 70 pounds." "You been having some drinks, Bradley?" "Yeah. A few. It's the holidays. Why?" "I can hear grain alcohol in your voice. It's not the best thing for your immune system, but it's allowed from time to time. One more thing... Can we arrange to stay in the same hotel? I'd like to make love to you." I finished a few more quick gulps from the bottle. "I...I think I'd like that so much. I've had a crush on you since I read the magazine article." "I hope it lasts until June." "I guarantee it will." "I should let you go to sleep, Bradley. Have a very Merry Christmas. I love you." CLICK I wondered how in the hell I was supposed to sleep now. I found an old paperback on my bookshelf that I opened and started to reread. "Love"? I'd just told a huge fib to a man who claimed to love me. I was on the spot. If he knew I was HIV-, there'd be no sex. I could not let that chance get away. I dozed off for what seemed like a minute, but daylight had crept into my room when I opened my eyes. Mom just burst into my room without knocking (some things haven't changed) and demanded I get up. "Come see what Santa brought you!" I would never be an adult in her eyes. Not ever. After gifts were opened and a big brunch eaten, we all wiped our brows and felt the relief mixed with melancholy that comes when Christmas is finally over. We lounged around the TV and watched one of those sleepy old movies from the 40's. More fake snow, sappy dialog and at least two covered bridges. Where'd all those structures go? "Supposed to be nice weather this week, but a big Winter storm is moving in on New Year's Day. When do you have to get back?" Dad had a fresh bottle of Wild Turkey that' he'd just opened. "I'm supposed to man a counseling hot line on New Year's Eve. Not many volunteers on campus until January 9th." "You counsel people? You're qualified?" "Yep. I took 20 hours of training, but mainly callers just need somebody to talk to." "Maybe I'll call it sometime." "You can talk now, Pops. Mom went up to take a nap." "Nah. Well... No. I'm fine." I was relieved he didn't start spilling out tearful confessions. We had a few drinks, but I insisted on mixing the alcohol with Pepsi. I was one of the few guys in my dorm who didn't drink or party with any other substance. My mom's father was a major alcoholic and it made me wary of my genetics. I'd just drink with Dad while I was home. I was usually too busy for numbness. The weather forecast did indeed look grim for January 1st. Record cold, record snow, high winds. I left on the 30th because I was eager to get back to the dorm and see if Ian's photos had arrived yet. It's not like I didn't visit home every other week. Mom loaded me up with brownies and other snacks. It was a short drive, but I gave Weird Al's tape another chance. Nope. I'm sure my roommate would appreciate it more than I did. The dorm was desolate and quiet as a tomb. The chubby girl at the front desk welcomed me when I approached to retrieve my mail. She had a Santa hat on that was meant to be whimsical, but mainly just looked retarded. There were two letters from Ian as well as a large manila envelope that I knew was full of photos. I'd save that one for last. Dear Bradley: I guess this will arrive after you've already left for vacation. I just wished to write you since I'm thinking so much about you, us. Am I moving too fast? I feel so good these days and it's all thanks to you. I hope we will talk on the telephone soon. I have a need to be intimate with you. Do you feel the same? I'm not sure how long of a life I'll have, but I intend to do as much as I can with the time left. I bet your finals went well. I'm sure they did. Love, Ian The second piece of mail was a greeting card. The cover was a goofy illustration of a teddy bear with a a heart-shaped patch on his stomach. It looked like something my mom would send. Cheers! I know this is a bit silly, but the little plush toy looks exactly how you make me feel -- warm, happy and a bit chubby. I've gained some weight back since Fall, and can wear my old jeans again without fear of them falling down. My doctor will be pleased. Thank you! I love you! Ian OK. Time to see the photos. Dear God!! He was a tall, furry dream come true. So many nude poses with his big, fat dick in various stages of hardness. Every single thing about him was perfect. I looked at each of them ten or eleven times before putting them back in the envelope and putting them under my bed. It was too late to call Ian now because I knew he'd be asleep. I called the GLSOC office just to see if anyone was there. Dan was. "Hi. It's Brad. I'm back. Need some help?" "Yeah, Bring me something from Arby's -- I'll pay you back. You can come keep me company until Shawna gets here." I had nothing else to do. So I went and took him food. Dan was a good guy, but a tad too intense at times...and so political. Conversations with him could wear me out. I stayed and listened to his chatter for awhile before finally leaving. My roommate came back a few says later and then classes were soon underway. It was work as usual, but this time I was more disciplined, more focused. Time flew by. Shawna had made all the arrangements for the conference. "Dan doesn't want to go, so you'll have a room to yourself. We both will. I'll print out an itinerary for you soon. I assume Ian already has arrangements since he's one of the speakers." She watched me carefully. "You fancy him, don't you?" "I admire him, Shawna. He inspired me to join the cause." "Whatever you say, Brad. Just remember what we're trying to do here." It was an insanely beautiful Spring...not that I had a whole lot of time to appreciate it. Finals were looming and I was more than prepared. I called Ian a few more times and told him how much I was looking forward to meeting him in person. It was often early in the morning when I reached him, and he usually made the comment he still had his 'A.M. stiffy' and would I mind if he whacked off while we chatted. I never minded but explained my living situation and how the roommate could barge in at any time. "Just talk to me...." I talked about how beautiful his dick was and much I wanted to feel it and taste it. It never took him long to grunt and finish. "My loads are huge these days. Perhaps there's more to Eastern medicine than I thought." "I can't to see that in person. Did you get a copy of my itinerary?" "I did. Thank you. Can you fetch me from the airport?" "Of course! There's no sense in you renting a car since it's so close to the hotel." "Thanks, mate. I can use that part of the budget to take us out for a nice dinner." I couldn't wait for June 10th to get here...and then it was here! Shawna and I took separate cars since I was going to the airport first. "I'm in room 762. Come find me when you get there. I want to meet Ian...if the two of you aren't too 'occupied'." She knew, somehow. The airport was fairly new and heavily subsidized by companies that had laid claim to all the restaurants, bars and shops. It was, however, easy to navigate and I got to Ian's gate an hour early. Those were the days when you could just walk right in with no security checks. I had a Stephen King paperback and plenty of time to calm my nerves and read. His flight arrived early and I stood up from my chair. I'm pretty sure I'd lost the ability to breath or blink. There He was! I was caught off-guard by the fact that he was walking with a cane. Eh -- who knows when and how things could flare up with AIDS? He saw me and smiled brightly. I couldn't help but run up and hug him. "Welcome!" "You should have seen your face -- it was like a beacon! A bright and shining beacon!" Our embrace lasted a long time because neither of us wanted it to end. "Let's get your bags...it's this way." "My doctor advised me to bring the cane because the altitude here is so high. Tall blokes like me could pass out very easily in environments like this. I've even brought little cans of oxygen, the same kind climbers use on Everest." The drive was short and scenic.I kept asking him if he could breathe okay and he finally demanded I stop the queries. "I'm fine, Bradley. Just being with you makes me stronger. It's so beautiful here. How do you get anything done without being distracted by all of this?" "You can look at the mountains from my parents' backyard. I used to stay out at night and try to watch for UFOs." We arrived at The Embassy Suites and parked. I carried both our bags to the lobby. I insisted Ian check in first so he could then sit down a bit. He had a giant suite on the top floor while my more modest room was on 5. "Let me rest for a bit and then I'll come get you. 501? Yes. It's been a long trip." He was helped with his bags from somebody on staff. I was too wired to sleep or even read my book. I'd just go see if Shawna was here yet. "Brad! Good to see you! Isn't this place nice? Why is your face all red?" "I'm out of shape and had to carry all my own bags." "Uh huh. Is Ian here?" "Yep. He's taking a nap now." "Let's hit the mini-bar. It's nice to have an expense account...I feel like I'm important." We each had a little bottle of vodka and relaxed. "What time did you get here?" "11 this morning. I wanted to get in as much time to prepare for tomorrow as I could. I'm not a main speaker, but I'm doing some of the introductions. I've gone over my notes a million times...and I still need to find the correct pronunciation of some of these names...especially the African ones." "You'll do great. You have a way of taking over a room and owning it." "Aren't you a doll. Want another drink? You can have anything but the wine...I'm saving that in case I meet some nice lady who likes chubby girls. My hopes aren't real high because it's almost all men here. Cute ones too. There's another vodka in there, but I think it's citrus-flavored. You mind that?" We drank a little more and watched a baseball game. I wondered if Ian was awake by now. I'd head back to my room and wait. The phone was ringing as I unlocked the door. "Hello?" "I had a wonderful rest, but now I'm famished. Care for an early dinner?" "Sure. Want to meet in my room, your room or down at the bar?" "I'm not dressed. Give me about thirty minutes to shower and get ready. OK? I'll meet you at the pub." "Sure." I'd just had a shower four or five hours ago, so I picked out something to change into. My clothes were mostly boring, but I'd upped my fashion game a little in anticipation of the conference...and Ian. I was ready in fifteen minutes. I went down to the restaurant and sat at the bar. It was too early for dinner so the place was deserted. The bartender was a young ginger guy who looked too young to serve alcohol. And yet he carded me. I wasn't old enough to buy a well drink so I just got a beer. I'd barely finished it when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Ian! "Looks like we had the same idea. I thought I'd get here first and have a drink while waiting. I never drink, but I am letting go on this trip. Even had a scotch or two on the flight." "You look great!" "As do you, mate. You look good in that color, and not many men are complimented by green." "it's only 5. I don't think they're seating people for dinner yet. Are you still hungry?" "Near starvation." "Well...we can get an appetizer and eat here." The bar menu was a complete mystery to Ian. "What on Earth are 'Loaded Potato Skins'?" "It's like pieces of baked potato with all kinds of stuff on top...cheese, bacon, green onions and sour cream." He looked doubtful. "Sounds very American. Let's get that!" We ordered and the bartender brought us another round of drinks. "It's probably going to be good. This is a four-star restaurant." "So tell me things, Bradley. Do you still believe in UFOs? I was a little tyke when we lived in New Mexico, and I remember so many tourists coming to look for aliens." "I pretty much don't believe in anything any more." "What about love?" "Yes. Because that is a real thing." We clinked our drinks. His smile was so beautiful. Our appetizer arrived and it was way too much food. Luckily, Ian loved them. For such a thin guy, he ate fast. "A bit salty, but I like it." I had exactly two of them before deciding I was too stuffed to eat a full dinner. "Yummy. Want another plate?" "No. I'm full." "Yeah. Me too. Why don't we sit here for a while and charm the barkeep. See which of us he fancies more." Well of course it would be him. It was. He sweet-talked the boy into serving me scotch as well. It was not unlike the whiskey Dad and I had shared. "We need to have a proper meal here sometime. It's kind of famous in the area. Hey - where's your cane?" "Left it in the room. I guess you'll have to let me lean on you if I get dizzy on the way back." "Can't wait." "Can't you now? One more drink and we'll go." As promised, Ian wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we got on the elevator. It was a long trip to the 10th floor and we locked lips the whole ride. He was an expert kisser and I never wanted to stop. Ding. We were here. His suite was very, very nice. All I'd ever wanted was about to happen. He shucked off his comically-long loafers and invited me to sit. He pulled out a can of compressed oxygen and inhaled. "Feeling light-headed?" "You could say that. Shed your clothes, Bradley. Relax and turn on the telly if you want." I got completely nude and couldn't help but notice how pale my body was. Ian stripped down and stood quietly, letting me look at whatever I wanted to. He had a full hard-on. I wanted to taste it, lick it. He read my mind and let it jut out inches from my face. No words were spoken as I took the pointy tool in my lips and savored the flavors. I always knew I'd do this one day. The sucking part was more of a challenge...I choked a little as it went over my tongue and aimed for my throat. "Well done, Luv. Lie back and let me suck you for a bit." I hadn't counted on that part. The fantasies had always involved my mouth and a penis. It would be exciting. My penis was not as large as his, but I was not ashamed of it. Oh my GOD! It felt perfect! His lips were amazingly expert and the fur on his beard tickled my balls in a delicious way. I sure as hell didn't want to ejaculate yet. "Stop! It feels just way too good." He pulled away while looking at me with dark, glistening eyes. He moved closer and hoisted my ankles over his shoulders. I felt one of his fingers poke in my anus. It was surprising and painful. "Oh no! I've been had! You're a fucking virgin who's never had a dick before! You're not even positive, right? What is wrong with you, Bradley? ??!" "It's not...I'm not...I'm..." He got up off the bed and opened his bag. He inhaled some more oxygen and then found a tube of something. "My fault, really. I somehow knew all this already. Why didn't you just come right out and ask me to convert you?" "It...it got too late. Don't blame me for falling in love with you!" That seemed to have taken the heat out of his anger. "Yes. I get that. But still.... There's good and bad news, mate. The good news is that you're going to get what you want. The bad news is that I can't trust you ever again. Without trust there can't be love." He looked sad but his hard-on bobbed and danced. "I understand, Ian. I'm sorry." He grimly oiled up his pecker and collapsed on top of me. He returned us to that same position as before as he rubbed some of that cream stuff on my hole. He was not even trying to be gentle with his fingers this time. I bit my lip. I deserved the discomfort. He wouldn't look directly in my eyes. I was getting so much and yet almost nothing of what I wanted. Maybe all sex was like that. He replaced his greasy fingers with his unsheathed penis. He pushed in urgently and completely ignored cries of pain that I couldn't help but let out. "Not now. Keep your mouth shut or I'll stop." I weighed that option for a few excruciating seconds. He'd obviously not lost any of his angry momentum. He pumped until the full length and width of him was deep inside of me. I wondered if I'd ever agree to go through with sex again. Ian was sweating and groaning and pumping with a frenzy. I felt like one big wound that was being violated over and over. At one critical point, the crashing waves of pain gave way to throbs of pleasure. I held his shoulders and he allowed that. His eyes were squeezed shut. He must have been getting close because his breathing was ragged and desperate. "Oh, Ian! This is...Oh!" I came. He'd driven the semen out of me. "HERE!!". He let out a volley oh his toxic seed deep within me. It was over. Was it worth it? It was. I'd answer the same even now. I met Shawna the next morning for breakfast. I had not slept but for a few minutes here and there. "You look like Hell, Brad! Did you and Ian have too much fun last night?" "No. I just had too much to drink." "You? I'm surprised. Well, I had a lovely time with Unia. She's a strikingly beautiful woman from Nigeria. Speaks four languages! We took a long stroll after dinner. She's speaking right after Ian Furmedge today." Just hearing his name gave me a sharp chest pain. "What's wrong? If I didn't know better... Oh no. Your heart is broken, isn't it? Shit. Let's get you a Bloody Mary and some food." Tears fell from my eyes despite my efforts to hold them in. "I'm just an idiot." The Bloody Marys arrived and the spicy cocktail did indeed make me feel better. I picked at the Eggs Benedict. Shawna ordered us more cocktails. I felt better about half way through the second glass. "Eat the celery at least. Want to hear the introduction I'm giving Ian?" I shook my head as the tears threatened to come flooding back. "OK. Why don't you just take the day off? You can start fresh tomorrow and take notes...and Brad?" "Yes?" "This too shall pass." Of course it would. It was a life lesson in the most extreme way. She ordered us each two more Bloody Marys and let me drink most of hers. I was going to be so dehydrated later. "You can stay here as long as you want, but I've got to get the hall now. This is all being charged to my room so order whatever you want." "No. I'm done. I'll ride up with you." Back in my room, I stretched out on the bed and read the collection of Stephen King's short stories. Most of them were quite good. Despite the addictive power of his words, I fell asleep and napped most of the day. No dreams. I raided my own mini-bar for a Snickers bar and a bag of pistachios. No way was I leaving the room. I watched "Sixteen Candles" on the TV and thought about my future. I'd have to get tested eventually and enter some kind of treatment. Fuck it. I'd go down to restaurant and eat a cheeseburger or something. As I put my shoes on, there was a knock on my door. It was Ian. "I'm sorry, Bradley. I treated you awful." "Come in. I deceived you and it was the worst mistake of my life." "You didn't come to my talk. I scanned the crowd, hoping to find you. Once I realized you weren't there, I hurried my speech and left out half of what I wanted to say. I talked to Shawna. She's a character alright! She wanted to know what I'd done to make you upset. What did you say?" "I told her nothing. She just saw it in my face. She's some kind of psychic or a witch or something." "Can we talk?" "Sure, have a seat. Can I get you something?" "I'm fine." He sat on the edge of my rumpled bed and let out a long sigh. "Do you accept my apology for being so nasty? I didn't mean to be." "Of course. I deserved it." "Nobody should ever be talked to that way." He took off his big gym shoes, peeled up the inner pad and produced a joint. "Fancy a spliff?" I couldn't believe he'd brought that on the plane with him. "How did you..." "These sneaks smell so rank, I knew none of those dogs would ever sniff it out." "I was about to head down to get some food. Want to come with me?" "I've a better idea. Let's smoke this and order room service. What are you watching?" I could smell his discarded shoes. "It's almost over." "Come lie down next to me." I did. He was so gorgeously long. Things were looking up. He used a book of paper matches to light the weed. I only knew about smoking from a Cheech and Chong movie I'd seen...and from watching my roommate. "It's not all that strong, but very soothing to the nerves. I had shingles last year and it blunted the pain nicely." "I'm sorry I wasn't there to see your speech, Ian." He passed me the joint. The fragrance was strong and pleasant. It was obviously better quality than the homegrown shit I'd smelled before. I inhaled and held it in. "I still love you, Bradley. I have to now because you're carrying my child." I suppose that was a nice way of putting it. This guy... "Oh look. The 'Amityville Horror' is on. Have you seen it?" "I don't think so. Hungry yet? You will be soon." We watched our clouds drift toward the ceiling. I started talking about the movie and the book, about how terrified I was. I talked about reading the book while staying home from school with strep throat. The pot made me so talkative. "I'll ring room service. Get some more of those potato skins up here. Tomorrow night we'll go out for a nice dinner." "Sounds good to me." We finished the weed and soaked up contented silence. After the potato skins were consumed, I might have dozed for a minute or two. I was awakened by Ian straddling my face with his enormous cock aiming for open lips. "Shh. You're still dreaming, mate." It was the greatest waking dream I'd ever had. I ultimately swallowed his thick, salty load. He indulged me with all sorts of 'first times' over the next three days. I liked everything except eating ass, but Ian assured me I'd come to love it eventually. OK. We had our proper dinner with Shawna and her new woman. It was a lovely evening and made me feel so lucky to be alive. I was harboring a deadly virus now, but feeling more immortal than I ever had before. When I drove Ian back to the airport, he came right out and asked me if I was going to write about us. "You've no doubt got the best story of anyone who attended." "No. I wouldn't compromise either of us like that. I have two hundred pages of notes to go through -- that's not including the taped interviews you arranged for me. You and I are off the record." We hugged a long time at the airport with promises to see each other again soon. Each of us exchanged several 'I love you's. And then he was gone. For now. I spent the Summer researching and writing. Shawna went back home to Wyoming, but we kept in constant contact. I sent her rough drafts of everything I'd written and she was very encouraging. I ended up splitting the rent on a small apartment with Dan. He was the best and worst possible roommate, but at least he had no problem with brutal honesty. He listened without judgement as I recounted my Boulder experience. Ultimately, my writing was published in widely-read journal put out by The World Health Organization. My interview with AIDS researcher Donald St. Pierre was published by the school newspaper. Shawna had arranged a really hefty grant to study in England and keep writing reports. I left for the UK that October and never came back.
  12. Toon

    The Biohazard Bus

    I knew that people who'd lost a lot of blood tended to get dizzy and pass out. I felt fine, considering that little streams of life were still running out of me. I'd just read an article in National Geographic about victims of shark attacks. They'd lose so much blood that they fainted and drowned before the pain really set in. "It's a kid. One of Nick's finds, I presume. He looks almost dead. Sal....did you cut him?" "Nuh uh, Boss. He's just been worked over a little." How to describe Marco? He was a tall, Italian, good-looking guy in expensive clothes that were too heavy for Summer. He was young-ish but gaunt and obviously very sick. He was pure evil, pure demon. And hot. I was frozen in place. "What? Who said that?" Nobody had spoken. "Yeah - we definitely should take him down to Mexico. I can get a jet here in an hour." I remember one of the guys (Sal?) saying something about him suffering from dementia. Oh hell. Everything was very new and very ominous now. "You guys go to the back and get a beer. I need some time with this boy." Nick took a second to touch my back before leaving with the rest of the crew. "And get dressed. We'll need to get out of here afterwards." They stopped, took their clothes and scattered. It was just Marco and I. He shed his nice wool coat and let me see just how deathly thin he was. "Quite a night, huh?" I never once thought I was going to die until now. "It's an honor to meet you, sir." "Save it. Come here and take the dick out of my pants." I guess I had to. I walked to him on weak legs and knelt at his feet as if he were a saint or something. My arms and hands weren't working so well but I found the fly of his designer pants and opened it. He undid the top button himself which was very courteous. The crotch hair was dark black and abundant, but I didn't have time to see much of it before the biggest, fattest penis in the world sprang out. My vision was a little blurry, but I was still impressed in a perverted way. I kissed it and stroked my tongue up and down the pole. He stood completely still and let me work. It was at that point that I fell over on my side. "Get up. I don't fuck on a damn bloody mattress....so stand and turn around. What? Talk louder, God!" I was so dizzy, but I still somehow stood up. He bent me over a little and made zero effort to go slow. He just plowed that enormous tool right in to the hilt. "You might be my last fuck, Brian. Get ready." Brian? It would be the dumbest thing to correct him. "Too much blood...WAY too much. It better not get on my loafers - these cost 900 dollars." He did the thrusting motion I'd gotten somewhat used to now. "Oh GOD...you're so huge!!" I had the idea that compliments would make him feel good. The truth was that my nerve endings were long gone. I didn't feel anything but pressure and motion. No sting and no throb as he came. I wanted to sleep now. "There you go. You have the same seed as the rest of those morons got already. Let it take." I think he wanted me to stand still, but I collapsed. The shark had done its job. I thought of the ocean as my head hit the mattress. My bare legs were on the concrete floor. More bruises and more blood. I'd go ahead and die here, I guess. I was just playing dead though. Maybe he'd simply wander off in his own private craziness. Here's what I heard as he opened a door and exited. "He's dead, boys. Somebody take care of it. My limo is waiting. Nick -- we need to talk tomorrow. Not early. I'll call you." I used to pretend I was dead and imagine what it was really like. The white light, the dead relatives, my childhood dog running up to me with his favorite toy. But I was very much alive. A rush of heavy boots came up to me. Nick knelt down and shook me a little. "Jeff?" "Hi." "Thank God. I need to get you out of here. You're hurt bad." "If he's not dead, you need to give him those pills and leave him in the country somewhere. Far." Pete. I could still taste his cum. "I told you I'd take care of this. I'm taking the van." Things were so confusing. Where was I? Who was I? What happened? I must have had a car accident after the senior prom. Paula Abdul was singing. I was sitting in the front seat and Nick was talking a mile a minute. "We're going back to get your car. I know you can't drive, but I'll get you to the hospital. I have some stuff that will make you forget everything. I'm expected to drug you and dump you in the middle of nowhere...but I can't. If you want to forget everything, I'll give you half. I'm so sorry. Can you hear me?" We were back outside Chuckie's. My car was still there, like an old friend. Nick helped me to the passenger side because I guess he had also snagged my keys at some point. My wallet. I needed that because my insurance card was in it. "Can I please have the wallet back?" "It's already in your back pocket...with all your cards and all the cash. I'm not a bad man, Jeff. I just got involved with all this to make money. You're alive...and you can turn us all in. I wouldn't blame you. I'm moving. But I won't forget you." "I...I'm not breathing very well." "It's OK. You'll be OK. We're here. I'm about twenty feet from the ER entrance. Can you walk that far?" "No." "Well, I can't get any closer. Make it as far as you can while I park your car. I can walk back on my own. Or something." It was over. I was standing alone. I was cold and wished I'd worn a coat even though it was probably 75 degrees that morning. I wish the damn sun would come up. The warm sun. I made it about five feet before I collapsed. Blood and semen were dribbling out of my ass. I just needed a small nap and then I'd be fine. The asphalt in the parking lot was still warm from the day. So nice. "Hey! Do you need help?" If I remember right, it was a young married couple and the woman was heavily pregnant. I must have looked pretty bad because the guy seemed more concerned about me than with his poor wife. "I gotta get Kim checked in, but I'll tell them you're here. Hang in there." I either said or thought I said "Congratulations." Within less than a minute, a couple of men came out and asked me to talk to them, tell them what happened. I didn't feel like talking just then. I woke up in a very nice bed.The room was bright and a nice nurse lady was fussing with some tube attached to my arm. It was bright and sunny outside the window. I didn't know where I was and I mostly didn't care. "Hi." "Goodness! You're awake! You're in a hospital right now. How do you feel? Do you have pain?" "Some. What happened?" "The doctor will be in here soon and explain everything. Let me get him, and then we'll take care of your pain." She would be prettier if she lost a few pounds. You can't tell women stuff like that. I looked at the TV on the wall. "Facts of Life". God, was that show ever not being broadcast on some channel. Mrs. Garrett, Jo, Blair, Tootie, Natalie. It was nice to see them. "So I hear you've returned to the world! Welcome back!" The doctor was a pleasant red-headed man. His voice was warm and friendly. "Do you know what happened to you? Do you know how you got here? Did someone bring you? Who?" "I was going to go try and find a tire store. That's all I remember." "We'll get you some lunch. Try to think. Don't be alarmed, but a police detective will need to ask you some things. He's right outside the door now. Just don't try and get out of bed today. If you need the bathroom, press that blue button. You've got stitches in your bottom and we don't want those popping out." I talked to various doctors, cops and even a social worker. I gave no details...even though my brain was overflowing with them. Specific details. I had found the bus...it was real. I got to go home a week later. I couldn't drive myself because my car was confiscated as evidence. The thing that puzzled them the most was that only the passenger seat was soaked in my blood. They wanted to know who brought me to the ER. I told them I had no idea. There were stills from the parking lot security camera footage that they kept showing me. It was Nick's back as he walked away, "That's a big dude...you don't remember meeting or seeing someone that size?" I liked this detective the best of all of them. Mitch. "No." "Come on, man. Doc says you don't have any brain damage and that there's no reason you should have amnesia. You hiding something? Protecting somebody?" "I'm not." He shook his head and sighed. "Please try. You'd help us, the city and most of all - yourself. Would you agree to go under hypnosis? It could help us stop this from happening to anyone else." I wasn't legally obligated to see a hypnotist so I didn't. Once I was well enough to go home, the questions ended. My work gave me 12 weeks of leave. Supposedly they hadn't been told what had happened, but things have a way of leaking out. I guess my name was in the newspaper once or twice. My parents had no idea what I'd been through, but I had to tell them something. I played it down as just a mugging, and said I was completely recovered now. Mom wanted to come look after me, but I insisted I just needed time to rest. Dad sent me a check -- which was pretty much the only way he knew how to show concern. Not complaining. I used the time to write down everything I remember about that day/night. On the advice of the hospital's resident counselor, I went to a 'rape victim support group'...once. I was the only male in the room. I didn't need support or help or therapy. I was even strangely accepting of the fact that I most likely had HIV. I was supposed to get tested in a month, but wasn't really dreading it. It was what it was. You'd think I'd run out of details to remember about the incident, but they kept popping up every time I opened my blue notebook. I tested positive for the AIDS virus about a week before my time off from work was over. More questions, more advice, more lists of support groups. I'd learned to just keep quiet and nod. I really felt fine. At least I did until I retrieved my mail that evening and found a letter from someone that I knew instantly was Nick. I waited a good twenty minutes before opening it. Deep breath. Hi Jeff I hope you're still at the address that was on your driver's license. I also hope you are doing okay...I actually hope you're doing great, but I understand that things are probably complicated in your head. I now live in a small Missouri town just outside Kansas City. You might remember that I told you I was moving. I needed to get away from what I was doing and what I was becoming. I'm a good person. Marco's people would never think to look for me here. I am so truly sorry for what happened to you. So, so SO sorry!! I could have stopped it but I was too afraid of that bunch. I keep replaying the night in my head and imagining all the ways I could of kept you from harm. It keeps me awake every night. I guess what bothers me the most is that I really, really liked you. I wish I could turn back time for both of us. I want to date you and hold your hand at the movies and make love to you in a natural, gentle way. I suppose you'll never allow that now. Do you ever think of me? On the back of this page is my address and phone number. Please call me. PLEASE!!!! Love, Nick P.S. Please? I don't know. I guess I'll call.
  13. Toon

    The Biohazard Bus

    I wish I could say I was shocked. It was all coming together for me now. The Biohazard Bus was real and I'd practically bought a ticket by missing clues. The free drinks, the CB radios, the careful scrutiny, the 'accidental' strobe light. I was caught off guard by Nick's betrayal but even that was exactly what the old guy had warned me about...giving your trust too freely. I'd have to deal with my carelessness now, take my medicine. Nick pulled me into the huge, black SUV. The dome light was covered with some black plastic of some kind. I think it was a trash bag. "You coming with us, Nick? Don't you have to work?" The voice asking belonged to the guy sitting next to me. At first I thought he was naked, but was wearing a jockstrap. "No. I need to come along this time. This is Jeff." A few of the passengers mumbled "Hi", but I couldn't see what they looked like because there was almost no light. I could tell I was in the second row of seats between Nick and the jockstrap guy. My best guess is that there at least four others. "Is he legal?," asked the driver. "Yup. I got a hold of his wallet at the bar and checked his driver's license. But get this -- he came looking for us. He wanted to see if it was real or a myth." "A volunteer? That's a first. I don't know how Marco is gonna like that. Did you slip something into his drink?" "Didn't have to. He drank a lot and then succumbed to my charms." "Yeah right. There's not that much booze in the world." I'll skip the remainder of the short ride except to say that I was bizarrely not panicked. I didn't once think to yell or struggle. Also, Nick had his arm around my shoulders again, but I was no longer stupid or drunk enough to think this was real affection -- he was keeping me under control and that was all. We ended up in a glaringly bright garage...like the professional kind, not residential. Weirdly, I first noticed how clean the concrete floor was. No dirt and no grease spots. Mentally, I was either in shock or denial or possibly I was excited. Probably a combination. I got a good look at my six captors. The jockstrap guy was about 50 - 55. average height, very skinny except for a beer gut, no body hair and assorted tattoos -- including one identical to the 'BB' tat on Nick's wrist. 'Biohazard Bus'. That had to be it. Jockstrap guy was also massaging his crotch into a full boner that was visible beneath the filthy jock. He seemed to be the leader. "Fuck! Nobody blindfolded him??! He can see us! Nick?" "It's okay, dude. I get the feeling that he's cool with all this. If not, I'll take care of it. Just don't film this time." "Fuck you. Just because you're bigger than me doesn't mean you're in charge...I'll taze you. Marco will expect to see something." "Well, fuckin' call him down here and he can watch for himself." Nick moved closer to me. "I don't know. He's been in bad shape lately." "I'll call him," a tall black guy around my age said. He had a great body that was a marred with long scars on his chest and stomach. Jockstrap leader seemed doubtful. "This is not how we do it, Nick. You better be right about this or you'll be in the kind of trouble there aren't words for." The other three guys ranged in ages from 30 to 60. One was white and other two were mixed. None of them were gorgeous but they weren't awful either. They were stripping down, leaving on their socks for some reason. A range of hard-ons bobbed up and down as if there was a breeze in here. The black guy came back from wherever and said "He's coming. He sounded almost normal. Almost. Dude's head is all wrong. Hope I die before that dementia shit kicks in." "You probably will. Go get the mattress, Sal." Sal walked over to the wall and drug over a red air mattress and plopped it on the floor. "Good job. Get his clothes off so I can breed his cute little ass." Nick - who was still clothed - stepped me and Jock. "I get him first, Pete." "Don't use my name, goddammit! You're pushing it now. Why do you think you get to go before me?" "I may have the virus, but I don't have all the other bugs you guys do. I don't want to catch your shit." Pete paused, considered. "Well...I guess you got a point. We need you to stay healthy as long as possible so you can find us more fresh ass." Nick looked down at me. "It'll be okay. Get your clothes off." I did without really thinking too much about what was about to happen. I was naked, but I didn't have an erection...until I saw Nick get naked. He had a dick that was a work of art. It was big but looked below average compared to his giant frame. He had a nice line of hair that went from between his nipples and went straight down to his pubes. I popped a boner instantly. "Whoa! That's a nice boy dick! I think he's in love with you, Nick," Sal said in a teasing voice. "I know he is." He gave me a smile and a wink. Pete cursed a little as I went down on the mattress with Nicks mass of flesh covering me. We were kissing again. Deeply, roughly. His facial stubble was wearing my lips raw. He whispered in my ear with that delicious deep voice: "I will be as easy as possible. You've never done any of this, have you?" I answered with my eyes. I didn't know what sex felt like. If it felt as good as masturbation did then I didn't see the problem. God, to be that stupid again. "Get on your hands and knees...it's easier that way." He was still whispering but then shouted out "Get me the lube somebody!" Sal or one of the others brought him a king-size tub of Vaseline. I got on all fours, but looked over my shoulder to watch him rub down his super hard dick with the jelly. I could do this...I knew I could. I wanted it. It wasn't until he stuck a greasy finger up my ass that I thought twice. It hurt in an unreal way. I grunted. "Try to relax a little, Jeff. Push your ass out like you're farting." He put another thick finger inside me. I tried to relax, but tell me -- how in the world does one TRY to relax? Pete got impatient. "Marco wants to see rape, Nick. Not a fucking Falcon video. Just cum in him and let us have our turn." I hated that guy. "He's a virgin, you asshole! If I don't ease him into this you guys will have to fuck a corpse!" "Wouldn't be the first time." I knew Nick was on thin ice with these thugs. "Go ahead, Nick. Cum in me." Some hoots and hollers erupted from the small group. I was thrilled with the whole scene now. ..or at least I was before Nick's fat cock head went inside of me. DAMN! I was sure I was going to die. I yelled "NO!" "Ain't nobody can hear you, kid. We really should have taped this." I don't know who said that. I didn't learn any other names. Nick was as gentle and slow as he could be without pissing off the BB crowd. It felt horrible, like my guts were being stabbed. I just decided to ride it out. There was an identical tub of Vaseline in the bathroom of the house I grew up in. I used it for the frequent chapped lips I had back then. I always wondered why we had such a big thing of it if that's the only thing it was for. I pictured all the other things about my childhood bathroom, anything to take my mind off the pain. Only now it wasn't so terrible. He had the length of his shaft all the way inside of me, but still being gentle. "Lift his head up a little so he can suck me." Ugh. That Pete guy. Okay...how bad could it be compared to what was going on down below? As Nick sped up the pace of his fucking, A dick was suddenly pushing between my lips. It was fairly large, but not in a bizarre way. "Do a good job or I'll break your neck." I found it hot. A man's private organ was in my private mouth. I just sucked as much of it as I could and that seemed to satisfy Pete. I was more focused on the dick that was deep inside my body. It was exquisite somehow, the sudden throb of pleasure from within. "Shit. I'm gonna fuckin' cum now, Jeff. I'm so sorry." My nerve endings didn't feel Nick's sperm shoot but my mind did. My soul did. You'd think that climax would have liberated me of my own load. It didn't. I was so empty when he pulled out and sighed. I regret that he and I were done, but I concentrated on sucking the dick snaking its way toward my throat. Turns out I was a natural cocksucker. No gagging, no gasping. I don't think Pete was expecting that. His breath quickened and he grabbed the sides of my head. "No. Not..now... I..." He shot his goo in my mouth. I swallowed. "No way is this guy a virgin. He's done stuff." The black guy (Sal) said, "Just look at all the blood, man. Look...it's all over the place. Nick's cock is as red as a stoplight. He gets two minutes to recover and then I'm going to fuck that shit." A bottle of beer to hydrate. I caught my breath and looked at the other dicks around me. Sure -- I could handle whatever they wanted to do. I was also still hard. I didn't once consider disease or my fate, I just lied down on my back. It's exhausting to get everything you ever wanted. I may have closed my eyes for a second. "You want it like that? I like it." Sal was standing over me with his long black wand hovering and bobbing. I wondered if those scars came from knife wounds...from prison maybe. He dropped to his knees and stared into my eyes. "I'd eat your ass, but it's a mess." "I understand." I didn't feel the bleeding. He lifted my legs up over his shoulders. It may sound odd but I was ready to be fucked again....ready to be full of cock once more. Sal was all too happy to do to do just. His tool was thinner than Nick's, but there was still a quick jab of pain when I was entered again. "Shit! He's still tight as fuck...even after all that." His breath was a little rank as he exhaled heavily. "It's secondhand, but it's so nice in there." His two fleshy lips pressed down onto mine. It wasn't the slightest bit romantic, but I found it sexy nonetheless. My hands wandered up his back and felt more scar tissue back there. I wandered if he'd been in a gang. My ass was making wet sounds as he just plowed in and out like a farm animal in heat. I winced and sucked in air between my clenched teeth. "Get your damn bald head out of the way, Sal. I want to sit on his face." I don't know who said that, but I soon found a heavy,hairy ass covering my nose and mouth. There was no poo smell--which I'd assumed there would be. I knew I had to work up the desire to lick and kiss the hole forcing it's way down. So much of what I was doing now seemed natural...as if I were getting instructions from an unknown part of my brain. Moans and cuss words came from both guys. I think they were close to climaxing when a loud 'slam' sound came from somewhere. "WHAT'S THIS?? I told you to wait for me!" Both dick and ass left me in an instant. Nick walked over and lifted me up by my shoulders. "Just stand, Jeff. Can you? Be calm." I was feeling okay until I looked down and saw that my socks were completely soaked with red blood. I was standing in a puddle of it. No way could all of this had come from me. "Marco is here. I'm so sorry."
  14. (names have been changed) 1985 Who knows how urban legends get started? In the little Nebraska town (which could hardly be called 'urban') I grew up in, there was a story about an evil green skeleton that lived in the creek next to our grade school. He's grab you if you got too close to the water and then drown you. The origins and details kept changing over the years and supposedly, somebody had an actual picture of it. Our playground came right up to the chain link fence that kept us away from the creek. The boys made a game of who could get closest to fence. I once made it within two feet of it before running back. Our bravest, most toughest kid went all the way up and actually touched the fence! We couldn't hardly believe it. Years later, I spent the night at Kenny Grossmon's house and we snuck out at night and went to creek. Kenny had brought a flashlight and a little bottle of water he got from the bathroom at the Nazarene church. It sort of was like holy water as far as we were concerned. There were wild weeds and scrub trees surrounding the creek. We were both acting and talking casual, but we were both scared. We made it close enough to hear the water before a branch or something snapped and the sound made us run all the way back to his house where we watched Elvira and didn't talk about what we'd done. 1995 So I'm in my early 20's now and living in a big city, far away from the green skeleton. I work in a warehouse for a chemical company. I'd majored in English, but this job paid way more than anything I could make teaching. I wrote embarrassingly bad poetry sometimes, but never had dreams of showing it anybody or ever being published. I'd found my way into the gay world -- mainly from going to bars and meeting guys in my neighborhood. I'd even had dates here and there, but never any sex. AIDS showed no signs of ever going away or even being treated effectively. I didn't trust condoms because they could break. I once bought a box of them and played with them. They were just so fragile. It was from a friend of mine that I first heard about 'The Biohazard Bus'. Another urban legend that kept changing and was the subject of many bar conversations. Supposedly, there was a bus full of HIV+ men who would drive around the streets at night and capture guys right off the sidewalk. They'd all take turns raping the victim with no condoms on. It sounded so fake. I mean -- a whole bus?? How did they ever not get caught? The details were sketchy and ever changing. No, it was a van. No, it was an SUV. No, it was a stretch limo. The green skeleton sounded more legit than this bus. I finally got connected to the internet which provided me with a whole new way to waste my time. It was so primitive in those days, but I found a local bulletin board for gays and lesbians. It was mostly about community events, parades and charity stuff. There was one headline about the Biohazard Bus with 398 posts. I went right to the last few to see if there were any new developments. It was then that I realized I was maybe a little too curious about this. Keno: I know a guy who got abducted by them. He was coming out of Chuckie's by himself. Cub31: That is a shit bar. It's on Highland Street which is where many bad things can happen to you. People get shot. Keno: Only walk out of any bar with somebody else with you. I had never heard of the bar they were talking about. Or Highland Street. Why oh why was so drawn to this story? Danger and sex are an intriguing combo, I guess. There was a part of myself I was denying at that point. I will tell you that I was pretty sure I'd end up at Chuckie's eventually. I just had to find it. I started by searching the yellow pages for any businesses on Highland Street. There wasn't anything listed. I asked around. My seedy neighbor -who I'm almost sure was a drug dealer - knew where it was. "That area is pretty dicey. Your car will get stolen." He gave me some general directions. Back then, our city's downtown had been decimated by the suburbs and malls. I didn't even know if the streetlights worked there. My heart sped up at the thought of driving there. I decided I'd try and go to Chuckie's during the daytime. A Saturday afternoon, possibly. Was noon too early? I didn't know much about anything back then. It was a sunny June afternoon (around 2 PM) that I ventured out. I kept forgetting to breathe. You'd think alarms would flash in my brain or something...or that common sense would kick in. Nope. I passed the little bar called Chuckie's. twice. I couldn't do this. Maybe if I knew judo or something, I'd feel safer. This place was scary enough in the day...what the hell would it be like at night?? At least I knew where it was now. Fuck it. I parked right around the corner from the bar. "I'll have one beer and then go home," I told the scared,pale boy looking back at me in the rear view mirror. I can't even remember how I made it to the front door. I was technically sober, but nerves made me sort of stumble a little. A beer would be so good now. I'd earned it. Chuckie's was super dark and smoky. Not very crowded at all. The bartender was a jolly-looking guy in his late 40's/early 50's. "Hi! You here for the bust?" The bust? Did he think I was a cop or something? "The bust?" "Beer bust. For ten dollars you get a cup and all the beer you can drink. How old are you?" "24." "I'll believe you. I'll give you a discount...7.50. You get a free shot at the top of every hour -- which you just missed. I'll start you out with a freebie. It's nice to see a new face in here." I handed him a ten and got my mini cup of beer and complimentary shot. I was new at drinking, but I knew you did the shot first and followed it with a chug beer. Right? OK. I relaxed a little. There was a Chuckie doll up against the mirror behind the bartender. My guess is that this place had been named before the 'Child's Play' movie came out, but they just went with it. To this day I still don't know how to 'fit in' and strike up conversations with people. I stayed put on the bar stool that had been mended with duck tape. I heard the familiar sound of a pinball game in the corner but it was next to a table of scary-looking guys. "How come I never seen you before?" "I don't get out all that much. I needed to buy tires, but I got lost trying to find the place. I stopped here." Lie after lie poured out of my mouth. The truth was too sick. "No tire places around here. I'm Leslie, by the way. I've been here for years." "I'm Jeff. I moved here three months ago. It's not that busy today." "It'll pick up. Most beer busts take place on Sundays, but we changed ours to Saturday. The guy who owns this place is a mafia son with a coke habit...he wants to start making more money. Plus...." I waited. "Plus this area is the subject of many rumors." A-ha! He knew about the urban legend. I played dumb. "Rumors?" "Oh, nothing. You know how queens love to gossip." Leslie and I talked for a while as he kept refilling my cup and sneaking me extra shots. I began losing track of how many I'd had. I'd need to leave while the sun was still out. "Well...it's getting late, Leslie. I should go." "What? It's only 5:30. You got a hot date or something?" "Nah. I just don't know the area very well and want to leave while it's still daytime. Plus -- I think I'm a little buzzed." "The sun will be out for at least another two hours. We can always call you a cab...or have our bouncer escort you to your car." There was no bouncer among these guys. "His name is Nick and he's a huge guy. Nothing will happen to you." Fine. I just needed to slow down with the beer. "Does that pinball game work?" "Yep. It's brand new. Need quarters?" We made the exchange of bills for coins and he refilled my cup. I'd played this particular machine before. It was making the rounds, I guess. The beer was giving me stomach acid. I should have asked for a coke. In a minute. I played a dollar's worth of quarters and racked up the top three scores. I didn't want to sit down so much as I didn't want to stand anymore. I turned to leave and saw Leslie talking into what I thought was a CB radio. No way. Here? He caught my eye for a quick second and put the microphone thingy down. How weird. I walked about two steps before somebody grabbed my belt loop in the back. It was one of the scary guys I'd seen earlier. He had a Village People-type outfit on and was maybe in his 60's. "Have a seat." I didn't get a danger vibe from him. "I'm Butcher." "Nice to meet you. I'm Jeff." "Already heard that. You've been talked about since you came in." Was that good? Bad? "I...I guess I'm just new is all." "You need another beer, Jeff. So do I." He held up two fingers and Leslie scrambled right over with a pitcher to refill us. "Thanks, Leslie. I'm giving the game a rest now." "Well don't pay too much attention to this old drunk. He talks nonsense. Right, Butcher? You're full of shit, aren't you?" "Get away from us." Butcher had a seriously-lined face that you usually only see on old farmers who've worked out in the sun their whole lives. "You don't like him?" He made a spitting gesture. "Not at all. Let me ask you something....do you have a best friend?" I kinda didn't anymore. The best friend I'd ever had was Kenny Grossmon who'd moved away my sophomore year of high school. I never knew what became of him. I was about to tell him about Kenny but he continued talking. "You can't ever trust people. Not even best friends. You die when you trust too much." Top of the hour...it was 7 PM already. Leslie brought us shots and refills while he watched me carefully. "I haven't really trusted too many people in my life. My mom, maybe. I grew up in a small town." He nodded, probably wondering if I was a hick too dumb to talk to. "I got a lot of foreskin on my dick. I can fit a whole pool ball in ii." OK. I needed to excuse myself now. This old guy was no Yoda...just a cryptic drunk. "No, really. I live in the hotel down the street and you could come with me." "Maybe next time. I gotta go now." I forgot my cup and hurried back up to the bar. Leslie had been watching. "I'm glad you're back, Jeff. Did Butcher try to do something? Nick is finally here and he can get him out of here for you." "No. He was just getting too drunk, talking all weird." "Did he say anything about me?" "Not really. He doesn't like you too much. Why?" "You know why? He believes some conspiracy shit and lives in the land of make believe. I can't believe his liver hasn't given out yet. He'll pass out before 9." "Is that why you have a CB radio here? To call cabs for guys like him?" He paused a second. "Yeah. Or cops. Or a security company we use sometimes." "Makes sense. So this place is dangerous?" "Not so much...what did he tell you?" "He was vague." I wasn't about to repeat his foreskin story. "It's the top of the hour! Let's do a shot and I'll introduce you to the bouncer." I swiveled around to look at the front door. The incredibly huge guy was talking on a CB as well. So weird. I also noticed it was after dark now. Shit. At least this Nick due was as big as the Incredible Hulk. I could make it back to my car -- if it was still there. "The shot was something different this time...sharp cinnamon-flavored jet fuel. It woke me up a little. "Can I ask you something, Leslie?" He'd given me a fresh cup of beer. "Sure." "I've heard stories about this place, this street. Is there really a bus full of HIV guys who abduct people off the street and rape them?" "Butcher told you about that, didn't he? That story has been around for years and it's completely false. Why? Did you come here to find that out for yourself?" "No. I mean... sort of. I have a fascination with morbid urban legends. And...." "Say no more. I get it. I live nearby and walk home every night...by myself. I can tell you it's not true. I've seen drunk bums, drugged-out zombie kids, and runaways. But no evil AIDS bus. Ah -- here's Nick. The giant dude came and sat down next to me. He was large, but not all that muscular. He was wearing a tight t-shirt that just said 'SECURITY' on the front. He cast a shadow over everything he was near. "Is this him? Is this Jeff?" His voice was scary deep. He shook my hand. His own hands were the size of catcher's mitts. How was I known so soon? It's not like I'd talked to everybody or made a spectacle of myself. "Good to meet you, Nick." He and Leslie exchanged looks, and I swear there was a secret between them. "Yeah. We were just talking about the myths surrounding this place. He's heard about the bio bus." More looks. "Not that shit again. No wonder we're losing money. If Mario wants to turn a profit here, he needs to quash that shit." I could listen to that sexy voice all night. "Gimme a shot. Leslie. That scummy Dave guy kissed me on the mouth and I need to wash the taste away." We all had another shot. I guess these were my friends now. "Jeff here is interested in urban legends." "Oh...like the hook hanging from the car door? Stuff like that?" "Yeah. What purpose do they serve? How did they start?" I told them about the green skeleton we'd all been afraid of as kids. I was talking too much. I needed to sober up in the worst way. "I think the more important question is why do you go looking for them?" This Nick guy was so astute for a bouncer. "I'm curious. And this bus story got inside my head." There was more to it, but I was done talking about it. I noticed Nick's arm tattoos. He'd paid good money for them because they were well done and sharp. The one on his thick wrist was beautiful calligraphy. 'B B'. The bar had thinned out and we were pretty much just a group of three. Butcher had left at some point. "Time for shots! It's only 10 on a Saturday night and we're empty." Ten?? I'd been here far too long. Oh fuck it. I'd take a cab. We drank our shots. Nick kept getting closer to me and finally wrapped a big arm around my shoulders. "He's mine, Les. I'm sorry, but you've got a boy of your own somewhere, right?" Their conversation sounded like noise at this point. I was drunk but felt so warm and safe with Nick. "Call him a cab, Les. I'll walk him out." Yeah. It was probably time to go home. Leslie turned and made a 'call' or whatever you call it in CB language. I wanted to hear in case he started using that trucker language like they did on TV shows. He had stretched the cord and was talking too softly for me to listen in. He came back with a worried look. "He says it'll take 45 minutes." Okay. Whatever. I'd stop drinking and just go play some more pinball. As much as I liked Nick, there was no way I could picture myself dating him. It would look weird going out with some giant tattooed guy. People would talk. They'd assume things. I stood up from the stool and checked my front pocket for quarters. "Whoa, Hot Rod...where do you think you're going?" He had his hand on my shoulder. "I need to sober up a little. Thought I'd go splash some water on my face and play a little pinball." He and Leslie looked at each other. "Well...OK. Two games or ten minutes...whichever comes first. I'll bring you a coke or something. Deal?" "Sure." The bathroom wasn't nearly as bad as you'd think. It smelled a little like piss, but it seemed mostly clean. I rinsed my face and that didn't seem to help much. Right above the mirror, someone had scrawled "BEWARE" in marker. I just now remembered that detail. I left and went right to my machine. "You're time starts now!" Nick shouted from the bar. Why? What was the big deal? I was a paying customer after all. I mean, what the fuck? I guess my motor skills weren't all that impaired because I won a free game and beat my own high score. I guess I'd only freaked out because drinking was sort of new to me. Maybe I'd even be clear enough to drive home on my own. I hated the idea of leaving my car here and then trying to figure out how to retrieve it tomorrow. I was weighing the idea when Nick approached. "You've still got a few more minutes...I just wanted to watch you. You should see how you move when you play. You lean and work your hips and, well, it's sexy." He'd brought me a glass of Coke. "All he had was was diet. But it still has caffeine..." I'd lost the game because of the interruption, but I was done anyway. We sat down together at the same table Butcher had been sitting at earlier. Looking across at him finally gave me a chance to look right at his face. He wasn't bad looking at all - just big. His eyes were thinking eyes. "I don't think I'll be needing the cab. I feel a lot better." "I don't know, Jeff. You have to prove it to me. We'll take a walk around the block and then I'll decide if you're okay to drive." "A walk? Around here?! I don't think that's a good idea." He stood up. "Look who you're with, kid. Nothing will bad happen...except I might make a pass at you." He winked, laughed. "Just kidding. Finish your Coke and we'll go." I'd never had diet Coke before. It was kind of nasty, but I needed something carbonated that wasn't alcoholic. We headed for the door and Leslie and Nick said a few quick words to each other as I stood there feeling about 98% of my normal self. "Ready?" "Yeah. Can you just walk me to my car? I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine." "We had a deal. Don't go back on your word now." I was in a spot...I didn't want this guy mad at me, but walking around the block seemed pretty pointless. "OK. You have a flashlight? It doesn't look like most of your streetlamps are working." "Already got it. Let's walk, Jeffy." We headed in the opposite direction of my car like two dumb characters in a horror movie -- where the whole audience is yelling "Don't go!". It was strangely thrilling. I felt adrenaline chase the remaining alcohol out of my system. "Why doesn't the city fix some of the lights?" "We're low on the list. There are pot holes around here that are two years old." We went around the corner where it was darker still. "Hold on a second." He bent down and kissed me on the mouth. I responding by kissing back. Then it was over. Just like that. "That was nice. Think you'd ever go out with someone like me." "I know I would." "Cool." "Can we go back to the bar? This street is completely dark." "It's okay. I'll turn the flashlight on." He fumbled around with it started flashing like a disco. "Shit. Wrong button." "Why does it have a strobe?" "It's a signal for emergencies and stuff." I guess he wasn't able to find the normal light because we were walking again into total darkness. Headlights caught us from about fifteen yards away. As the vehicle slowly approached, Nick grabbed my wrist painfully hard. "Your ride is here."
  15. 1990 Was it really almost thirty years ago? How did so much time go by without my consent? It was a great time to be young and starting a new life in a new city. I got a job as a copywriter for a struggling ad agency that didn't pay all that great. I didn't mind because anything was better than being a poor college kid. I moved into a very old apartment building near the middle of the city. The whole area had high hopes to become "quaint", but it didn't seem to be working very well. The rent on my studio apartment was the same as what I'd paid for the student slum I'd just moved out of. It was on a rounded corner of the building which made my place curved and unique. It was noisy and very gay. This neighborhood had become a 'safe place' for low-income misfits. Young people with crappy jobs and alternative lives congregated here. My 'gaydar' had never quite worked which caused me to always get interested in guys that were batting for the other team. I ended up jerking off a lot. So be it. It didn't take long for me to join up with a ragtag crew of gay men who lived in my building. We'd all meet up at a park around the corner to gossip, drink and smoke. The park was actually quite beautiful for this area. It had an old iron archway at the entrance. There was no playground equipment or sandboxes because no families ever came here. We'd just take over a pair of picnic tables and hang out till all hours, passing bottles of whatever. This happened every single night, but I missed a lot of gatherings because there were TV shows I was addicted to and I hadn't yet splurged on a VCR. Twin Peaks was my number one favorite show back then. I'd sit and not take my eyes off my little 19" screen in, even if it was a repeat. I kind of hated missing out on the gatherings because this group loved to talk shit about whoever wasn't there. Vicious appraisals and rumors would fire them all up and I always wondered what was said about me. The de facto leader of the club was my next door neighbor, Kurt. He was pleasant to everyone but there were daggers hidden in his smile. There was a period of time when Kurt decided we should all have nicknames. Mine was 'Puppy Dog' - which I guess is better than other things I could have been called. That didn't last long because we kept mixing them up after the drinking had gotten underway. Let me editorialize here for a minute. I'm almost 52 now and the gay community has made so much progress in this country, but we still tear each other down on a personal level. Why? Weren't we all whispered about, laughed at and bullied when we were younger? Didn't we hate being called "fag", "homo", and "sissy"? It needs to end. We're all on the same side after all. A guy named Gene got it the worst. I'd seen him once or twice, but never actually met him. He worked for a sanitation company and, according to the group, smelled pretty rank all the time. He first encountered their scorn by using the park to cruise for blow jobs. It was a pretty large park with many trees and I had no idea what happened in the far shadows. Kurt had made it an unspoken rule that there was to be no sex within our club. He also didn't want a bunch of random horny men lurking about. Gene was also called "demented"."retarded" and "criminal". Everybody seemed to have a personal anecdote about Gene. "I was in the elevator with him once and almost passed out from the smell.","I saw him looking almost clean once like he'd showered and washed his hair, but the smell was still there. He can probably never get rid of it.", "Why does he come here at 3 in the morning, looking to get his dick sucked? No sane person would put their mouth on him.", "I was once trapped in a conversation with him and I couldn't make any sense of what he was saying." I didn't belong with this group. Poor Gene. I was stupid enough to try to defend him. "Garbage Men make a pretty good salary. They're Union." Kurt looked wounded. "Who cares? He obviously doesn't spend a dime on soap. You know what you say when you see him? You say 'Hi, Gene' ...you know like 'hygiene'. It's getting to be an old joke but it's still funny every time." Was it funny? Not in my opinion. Every time we saw a figure in the distance, the crowd would yell "Hi, Gene!!" Stupid. I decided right then to make this gathering an infrequent event for me. Kurt trapped me in the hallway and asked why I'd been so scarce. "I took on some freelance work and it keeps me very busy." I didn't sell the excuse very well and he started looking at me differently. Judging. I didn't want to give him any new ammunition to use against me so I stayed civil when I made small talk with him. I was really loving k.d. lang at the time, but I never played music very loud in case he tried to use that against me. Ultimately, I decided I didn't care anymore. It took me 22 years, but I finally started to not give a shit what other people said about me. I blasted my music after that. Apartment-dwellers know that you have to pick a really good time to do your laundry....not a peak hours. I usually did mine early on Saturday mornings when the rest of the building was sleeping off whatever they'd done the night before. That Spring I developed some severe insomnia. I was wide awake and staring at the ceiling one Sunday morning before the sun was even up. I decided to just go ahead and do a load of whites. I had a pocket full of quarters and a new book I'd started...I might even do two loads if sleep never came. Of course the laundry room was in a depressing basement. Most laundry places were glum. I started getting to the task at hand. 75 cents to wash and 50 cents to dry. I stayed there and read my book undisturbed. Say what you will about this chore but I always liked the smell of soap and fabric softener -- it was a fresh, hopeful scent. Right after I'd loaded the dryer, I saw him. Gene. He seemed like he was sleepwalking or on drugs or something. He looked dazed. Was he just now coming home? Or going out? I just gave him a smile and went back to my book. I wasn't about to say "Hi, Gene" because of those guys in the park. It seemed my smile was all he needed to walk right up to where I was sitting and say "Don't you sleep?" "Hi. Yeah. Lately, I've had trouble staying asleep, though. Thought I'd get this done since I was wide awake." How to describe Gene physically? It's not easy to penetrate that aura of weirdness to really see him. He was about 6'2" with a fairly average build...maybe a little underweight. Around my age. His jet black hair looked like he had cut himself. He did seem a little unclean, but whatever odor he had was masked by the laundry detergent smells. "I'm Troy. I moved in here a few months ago." "I'm Gene -- which is short for 'Genius'." Was he kidding around? His expression didn't tell me. "I've seen you around. You're on the seventh floor, right?" "Yeah. On the rounded side." "That's nice. Know anything about giant squid?" Huh? He might actually be crazy. "No. Not much." "He sat next to me. I smelled something a little foul but it wasn't so terrible. I grew up on a farm and had smelled far worse things. "Why do you ask?" "They can kill you. They shoot this thick cloud of ink out of their bodies and it's heavy and sticky." I didn't think that was true, but I just nodded. "Can you imagine? You're underwater and one of those fuckers releases that stuff all over you. You're glued to a rock or a reef and you can't breathe....so you die." "Wow." When would my stuff be dry? I didn't care if it was damp or not -- I was going to get away from this guy. "So you know that Kurt guy, right?" "I know him, but we're not friends." "He's out to ruin me for some reason. I never did anything to him or any of the park gang. Don't bother me none." "He's a viper in a ballerina costume." That made him laugh. He may have been a little unkempt but he had an honest smile -- perfect, white teeth. "What do you do, Travis?" "It's 'Troy'. I'm a writer. I work for an ad agency downtown." "Wow. You look like you're 15...and already a 9-5 professional? Impressive. I work for Duffy Sanitation. I only work 30 hours a week, but the pay is good. I am saving up enough to get the hell out of this place...maybe go take some college courses. I like to write too. I'm working on a book when I have time. Maybe you can help me with it." "Fiction? Like a novel?" "Yeah. There's a giant killer squid in the chapter I just started." OK. This was interesting now. I fed more quarters into the dryer. "Well -- I don't think squid shoot ink that traps people. I've read about them and they use the ink to get away from predators. It just clouds the water so they can escape." "Not in my story. It kills divers." He wasn't crazy -- just a writer. Same difference. "What are you doing up so early, Gene?" "Just stuff. I like to walk very late at night and see what's up in the park." "Is there ever anything 'up' at this hour?" I held my cards close to the vest. Nobody goes off by themselves to a park at this hour. "Sometimes. It's a pretty big park and the huge Cottonwood trees at the far West end and they hide some interesting people." I guess Kurt got some things right about him. "Isn't that dangerous?" "It can be. You should go with me some time." Oh hell -- Kurt and his posse would have a collective heart attack if they saw Gene and I cruising the park together. "Sure, but I usually don't stay up this late or early. I've just had trouble sleeping lately." "Try smoking hash. That'll solve it." He had to be kidding, right? I could never even handle regular pot. It made me nervous and helpless. "Nah. I'll probably call my doctor and try to get some Valium or something." "Just don't get addicted. I smoke hash almost every day before work. It's not like the day goes faster or anything -- it's just that it gets new and interesting. It's loud work and most of the guys wear ear plugs but not me. The noise is amazing when you're high. I can feel it in my dick even." I'd known some people in college who could function perfectly fine when they were on drugs, but I'm pretty sure I'd never be one of them. "Wow. They don't drug test you guys?" "Just the drivers. I think your clothes are dry by now...it's been over an hour." He was right. They were most likely baked to a crisp already. I took everything out of the dryer, folded the t-shirts and paired the socks. I did it mainly because I knew that if I left now, this bizarre conversation would end. I also wasn't even close to being sleepy. Gene watched me and kept talking. "Remember when you were just starting school and the teacher would tell the class to put their thinking caps' on? All the kids pretended to put on hats but I never did. I also never said 'God' when they made us say the pledge of allegiance." I would have liked to have known him as a kid. We might have been best friends. "I never took the words of that pledge to heart -- it was all just automatic parroting. Same with The Lord's Prayer. I had no clue what any of it meant." I was done and Gene grabbed my basket to carry it for me. "Oh, you don't have to..." "It's okay. I got it." Well, I guess he was going to follow me to my door. Would he want to come in? "Thanks. So you don't work on Sundays?" His aroma was a little more intimate inside the elevator. Either I'd gotten used to it or he didn't smell that bad. "Nope. Saturdays neither. We won't run into your neighbor, will we?" "I doubt it. He's never awake before noon or so. Don't worry." "I'm not worried for my sake...for his. I'll kick his ass and he knows it. I already know why he hates me." "Why?" "Long story. I need a beer first...got any?" We'd arrived at my floor. "No. I have a bottle of wine that somebody gave me when I graduated. I don't know if it's any good." "Yuck. No thanks. Put your clothes away and we'll go back to my place. I buy the good of beer." Well...why the hell not? I was curious if nothing else. Once inside, Gene complimented me on every single thing that caught his eye. My lamp, futon, candles, the neatness... "It's smaller than my apartment, but you've made really good use of the space." I thanked him and began putting my clean clothes away. He went on to study my collection of tapes. "Bonnie Raitt, Blondie, Lindsay Buckingham, Nirvana...you've got great taste. Never heard of k.d. lang before. Is it a she or a he? Country?" He picked it up and tucked in his back pocket. "We'll listen to this when we get back to my place." His hand was groping his crotch but I didn't read anything into it. Guys just do that sometimes instinctively. I did it even when I had no sexual thoughts at all. "OK. I'm done. Ready to go?" We left and I saw Kurt's closed door. He would flat out shit himself if he saw me leaving my apartment with Gene. I almost wanted him to be awake and see this. "I'm on 3. I don't have a nice view like you do, but I get to see the sun rise every day. You ever write poetry?" "No. Well...sort of. I've written slogans -- which sometimes rhyme. So why do you and Kurt hate each other?" He looked down at me and shook his head. "Not yet. I'll tell you everything after I have a beer in my hand." Ding. We arrived and I didn't even take one second to think what I might be about to see. He opened the door and I was expecting anything but what I saw. It was normal. Plain. He had a really nice stereo system and some assorted furniture that didn't look showroom new but not dingy. I sometimes saw random old chairs and sofas on the curb. I'm fairly certain he didn't get any of his stuff from the street. Yes, the smell couldn't be called "pleasant", but it was not horrible either. I thought of a friend of mine who'd worked a year in a candle store. She and everything she owned smelled like candles. I guess you couldn't help but bring odors from your job home with you. "That looks like an expensive stereo, Gene." "JVC. It's not all that fancy." He took out the k.d. lang tape out of his pocket and put it in. "Rewind it so we can listen to all of it." I noticed there was no dust anywhere. I'd left the tape at the end of my favorite song "Diet of Strange Places". I rewound it just a little so he could hear what I considered to be one of the best songs I'd ever heard. I'd never played this for anyone Starving, I've got this hunger/ Growling from deep within By the time I turned around, Gene had taken off his shoes and socks. He was sitting on the couch and stretching his legs. "Wow. It's a woman. She's got an excellent voice. How'd you find her? She'd been on TV several times, but I couldn't even answer before Gene went to the kitchen to get the beers. I guess he really really wanted one. "Can you play that song again?" "Let's listen to the rest of this side and then I'll rewind it." He arched an eyebrow as if I was challenging him. "Sure, Troy. Are you all comfortable there on the floor?" I actually was. "Yeah. This is good beer." It was. "It's imported." He suddenly got up and sat down on the carpet next to me, mimicking my way of sitting. "Don't sip that like it's one of your wines. You take good healthy swallows of beer. It's not like you have to get up for work today." I am an amateur when it comes to drinking. Well, OK. He'd already finished his. I chugged and handed him the empty bottle. The lack of sleep and the fast beer seemed to make me feel completely content. "Okay, Gene. Now tell me why you and Kurt have this feud." He sighed. "I'll start by saying we know each other already." Another sigh. "He and I moved in here at about the same time. We were pleasant to each other at first. I started checking out the park after a week and kept seeing him there...not at the picnic tables. He was cruising the shadows just like me. You won't believe this but I saw him get fucked by strangers. He knew how cute he was and used it to get so much dick up his little ass." I was blown away by these revelations. "Um. Did you and he...?" "Yes. Twice." "With a condom?" "There are no condoms in a park at 2 in the morning. I've gone through periods of time when I liked fucking...on both ends. But it's so much easier to just get your dick sucked. You shoot a load either way." "Wow. So he hates you for doing that with him?" "That's not all." He was deflated by the confession, but went and got us two more beers. I had so much to think about. Too much. This beer was so good. "He hates me for knowing something else." "Give me a second to have some more swallows." I was bordering a state of shock. Sleep would just not be possible for now. He was watching my face for any trace of what I was thinking. The tape turned over automatically. I finished half the beer before he continued. "I know he was HIV. I only know because we run into each other at the free health clinic on Poplar sometimes. I've got it too, by the way. What are you thinking right now?" I had no idea what to say. I'd just wing it for now. "I guess I have to say that I'm sorry." "For what?" "That you have the virus...and also that you haunt the damn park for sex when you're good-looking and smart enough to just date like regular people." He arched his eyebrow again. Maybe I'd said the wrong thing. Beer. "You think I'm 'good looking'? For real?" "Yeah. And tall and honest and.... Just go get a decent haircut. I'll take you to the place I go." He flashed that dazzling smile again and I felt the floor disappear from beneath me. "Look....the sun is coming up. It's never the same but always perfect." I turned my head to watch. He was right -- perfect. Pink and lavender were meeting up in such a beautiful way that words couldn't possibly tell you how perfect it was. I turned back to thank him for pointing it out to me but we weren't eye-level anymore. Gene was standing. He was rubbing his crotch again, but this was intentional. His eyes were so brown that they were almost looked black. I touched his bare ankle. I was developing some feelings for Gene. And now? I'd be passive and wait. He was the host. "Remember me telling you what I liked the most?" Of course I did. He unbuttoned the fly of his jeans and let a bare naked dick jut out into the air. It bounced even. I was still on the floor at his feet. "Do you think you'd like to help me out? It's not entirely safe, but I won't cum in your mouth...that should be okay." I let my hands wander up and down his legs. They were harder and more developed than I would have guessed. He did physical work after all...not to mention all his park walking. I figured my hands were answering for me. Yes. I wanted to give him the best blow job he'd ever had from a beginner. I knew what I felt like doing but wasn't sure it would be enough. The penis wasn't huge or anything, but it was so straight and so hard -- he could punch a hole in the wall with that thing. I'd have to move myself up on my knees a little higher. His hidden virus didn't once enter my thoughts. I put my lips on the plum-colored head. His gasp was one of absolute pleasure. "Yeah...go slow. Take your time." I could've listened, but my hunger for his beautiful organ was bordering on insane at this moment. I did what I could to take the whole thing. "Shit! I didn't expect you to make me feel so good. Keep it up and I'll shoot down your throat in about ten seconds." I redoubled my effort and, sure enough, he tensed up with a load ready to release. "Fuck, man!" He let a few heavy spurts loose on my tongue. Semen. HIV semen. I could do this every day. I pulled away and tried to recognize myself and where I was. I took some deep breaths and stood up...a little unsteady. "How'd I do?" "You earned first prize. Let's go to my bedroom and relax. Need another beer?" I had barely touched the last one he'd brought me so I said 'no'. k.d. was still singing and I heard new things. I was also loving the taste in my mouth. "Nah. I'm fine." "Leave the beer and let's go to bed." "Lead the way." His bedroom was pretty nice....the smell lingered, but I thought it was sexy now. I'd buy him some nice candles from a fancy store. "Get out of those clothes and get comfy." I was amazed at how calmly I did as told. His bed was super comfortable. He was fishing around in his nightstand. I almost asked him what he was doing but was too mesmerized by the sight of his nice bare ass. I could hear the music coming through the wall. He found his hash pipe or pot pipe or whatever it was. "You can have exactly two hits. It's not hash -- just really good weed. I'm afraid of letting you escape into your private thoughts. Infection from oral sex is pretty rare...so don't get wrapped up in regret just now." I was still rock hard and my boner didn't seem to care that it was so obvious and visible. Sex was unfair that way. Both partners should cum at the same time, every time. I felt kind of ridiculous. Gene was doing his weed thing and trying to light it. I wasn't real excited about this, but the smell was nice and exotic. He passed it to me and I made a good amateur effort to inhale it the correct way. How soon would this start working? My lungs absorbed the smoke. I suddenly didn't want a second hit...I was not a 'pot person' and likely never would be. Lets just see how it went. Nothing so far...except the music crept in and got louder. It's almost as if the stereo was right there in the room. You're drivin' me crazy/ Hey now, baby,please "I'm going to buy a CD player next week. This will be the first disc I get." He took a few more puffs of the magic herb while I just looked at his nude body. "You've got really nice legs, Gene." "Yeah? I don't have a sit-down job like you do. Manual labor is better than going to the gym. Damn, Troy....you have an intense erection. Horny? I'm flattered." It seemed wise not to say anything right now. He was fingering his balls and working himself up into an emerging boner. "Give me a minute to rest and we'll do each other again. Whatever you want. I didn't mean to be so selfish earlier...I just really love getting blown. I can blow you next or you can do me again. Take a minute to think. Really think. I don't want to hurt...." His words turned into scribbles as he talked. I was just happy to be near his warm, feverish body. My instinct was to kiss his mouth like we were in a romantic movie. I ignored the bizarre dreams waiting for me. My Gene. I decided I wanted him to fuck me,bust my cherry. HIV never figured into the decision. I wanted him to shoot a load inside of me even though I'd never been fucked down there. How bad could it be? Gay men did this. He needed to relax and build up another load. I waited. "So?..." He knew how to read me, so why didn't he just take charge??" "I want you to fuck me, Gene. Like we're on our honeymoon." "I was afraid I'd get you to this point. Shit. I have a dirty cock and no rubbers. I want to fuck your ass so much, but it's just too dangerous." He was high, but still reluctant to do the wrong thing. You have to admire that ethic. And I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to have some bare, raw sex with him. But I was going with the mood. It was already mid-morning, and the sun was snaking itself through the blinds. I was just really wanting my cherry to be popped by the wonderful dick which belonged to this wonderful guy. Viruses were a random thing...and so was mortality. None of us were guaranteed a long life. Despite all our fatal thoughts, Gene's cock was standing up straight like a soldier. My own boner had never gone away. "Let's follow through with what would happen eventually." "You sure? Put your thinking cap on, Troy." "I never take it off." "OK. No going back from here." He was stroking his meat faster and harder. It made a wet sound even though there was no lube involved. He leaked a lot of pre-cum which impressed me. How bad could this be? "Once I start, I don't stop. You're about to get a powerful fuck that will change you forever." He may have been trying to warn me, but all it was doing was making me hotter. "Yeah. It's going to happen eventually. I'd rather it be with you than with some stranger. Know what I mean?" He was thinking. "OK. You aren't too stoned to consent to this, right?" "Weirdly, no. I have a history of freaking out when I smoke, but I'm fine. I feel very clear." "It's good stuff. Very kind to the system." He had worked himself up into another impressive hard-on. I still couldn't get over how straight and steel-like it looked. "You have the most perfect dick I've ever seen, dude...not that I've seen any besides in magazines. But still..." "Thanks, Troy. Yours is nice and healthy-sized too. You'll fuck me one day, right?" "ANY time." That made him even hotter. "I don't have any lube. I wasn't expecting company tonight. I have Crisco in the kitchen...lemme go go grease my stuff up. Be right back...." He left me alone with k.d. lang's perfect voice still serenading me in the morning light. This lonely achin' heart of mine/ That now, folks, feels sublime Gene returned with his proud boner all shiny and perfect. I wanted that tool to take my virginity, but more importantly, I wanted this man to take it and be my first. His disease didn't factor in at all. I wanted this. I wanted HIM. "Move on down to the end of the end of the bed. Stay on your back so I can look at you and see if you're in too much pain. I really, really don't want to hurt you." "I'll be okay, Gene. This is for you too." I wished he'd fall in love with me and want to fuck every night...even though I'd never done this before. It must feel good if the whole world was doing it. "Ready? No turning back once I get inside you. I'll try to pull out before I cum, but I don't have a real good track record in that department. " I searched my brain for hesitation but didn't find any. "I'm ready." It was awkward getting adjusted, but he'd done this before so I just cooperated. It was almost like doing a reverse sit-up...with some help. His dick felt even larger than it looked, especially as it tried to find my little opening. He found it and a wave of pure pleasure washed over his face. Glorious anticipation. Then he was making a concentrated to poke his way in. I didn't expect the pain -- it felt like a cruel violation. "Too much?" "No. I mean -- please go slow." "OK. This is the worst part. It'll feel better pretty soon. Hold on." I took him literally and reached around to grab his butt with both hands. He moaned and that made me open up a little more. His hard rod inched forward and the pain was still pretty intense, but not any worse. In about six seconds, something inside of me down there ached in the most awesome way. Prostate. He must have known it after I let loose a sigh of satisfaction. "Found it!" I ejaculated right as he said that. No wonder gay guys were dying from this act -- it was worth dying for. Then he fell into a rhythm of going in and out, in and out. I was in ecstasy, plain and simple. He sped his pace up and I felt his butt cheeks clench and relax over and over again. He had his eyes closed. "I'm getting ready...I'm going to...hold on..." I really didn't want him to pull out. I wanted him to have his moment just as I had. "FUCK!" He tensed and then collapsed on top of me. His weight was delicious. "Wow. Thank you, Gene." "I came inside of you. Shit, I'm sorry. It just felt so good." "Don't be sorry. I wanted you to." "I guess I kinda knew that. I'm grateful, but a little scared for you." Gene and I ended up as a 'couple'. We fucked constantly and talked about moving in together. Kurt's little group broke up as guys moved or got tired of his bullshit. Gene kept dragging me along to with him to the clinic and I finally tested positive the week before Easter. He still craved sex with strangers from the park, and I went with him sometimes. It was kind of thrilling to watch him spread his seed. He always came home to me...my garbageman, my first and last love.

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