Toon

Just be yourself. We're not all obsessed with size out here.

Note from Toon: Some of this story is based on real events and the people are composites of a few characters I really met. The locations are somewhat fictionalized. No real names are used and most of the sex stuff is entirely fictional. THIS A WORK OF FICTION PART 1 Kansas City, 1989 This story may be called "Ice Storm", but it all started about five months earlier. It was a horrible, record-breaking high temperature, humid Summer. I was 22 and doing freelance artwork for some rich,crazy woman who fancied herself some kind of expert on educating young people. I drew characters that were supposed to have no identifiable gender or race. I'd spend hours trying to sketch just such a thing. Never got it quite right, but she still paid me for my time. She'd come up with some crazy idea and I would try to help her realize it. I made enough for rent and a food - plus a few luxuries. It wasn't the life I'd dreamed of, but what else can you expect from some kid who'd just graduated with a fine arts degree? My ass was virginal, but my mouth sure as hell wasn't. I started sucking dick a week after I got my driver's license. I would sneak out to the rest area on I-35 in the middle of the night and suck off anybody who wanted it. Gross dudes, fat, old, ugly -- I didn't give a damn. I just swallowed as much semen as I could. I knew about HIV and AIDS. I knew it was mostly spread through butt sex...which I couldn't imagine even trying. It didn't even sound fun to me. I moved into a cheap apartment in a very gay community. I only picked the place because the rent was ridiculously cheap. It was known as a 'gayborhood' or a "gayted community". Waiters, addicts, students, starving artists, strippers, hookers -- we all formed a community here. At least my building had very thick walls and I didn't hear my neighbors unless they had fights...which happened a lot during this heat wave. I was mostly a friendly person, but not an especially confident one. My abusive dad had beaten all the self-worth out of me when I was a kid. Boo-Hoo, Poor me. I was over it. Don't feel sorry for me. Childhood sucks because that's the way it goes. I fantasized about eating pancakes on his grave some day. At least I had an excuse to not to visit him during holidays. Mom had died of lung cancer when she was 40. She didn't even smoke. I got up the courage to go to one of the twenty gay bars that were open back then. Most of them were close enough to walk to. I went to one of the sleaziest cruise bars called "Plantation". It was a collection of fetish enthusiasts of all types. I saw a few leather dudes which was a whole world I didn't know the first thing about. They all looked tough, mean and sexy as fuck. I was developing my ideals and new fetishes almost daily. I focused my attention on these guys and hoped they'd make eye contact. None did. Oh well - I wasn't about to go out and spend a fortune on leather clothing... only to find out they were all nelly and submissive. I just wanted dick. Hard dick. And cum. I moved up to the main floor where people danced and were more social. I hadn't danced in public ever. I never went to school dances or any of that teen bullshit. I liked music a lot, though. That's when I saw a neighbor from my building. Greg -- pretty average-looking, very tall and he had a 'roommate'. He also had a big, friendly doberman that I always petted and fussed over when we were in the elevator together. We were friendly - but all I knew about him was his name...and that his roommate/lover always had hickeys. "Hi! Glen -- right?" "Yeah. Hi, Greg." He seemed shocked that I was here. I had never given out much of a gay vibe. "I didn't know, man. It's good to see you." "Where's your boyfriend?" "Who? Oh, you mean David. We just share the rent - nothing else. I'm moving out soon... just a few blocks away. It's a house on Cherry street. Hold on - be right back...." He took off to greet some friends. He was one of those guys who knew everybody. I figured he came here a lot. He disappeared in a crush of people and I just sat at a little table with only one bar stool. Loser. It must have been stamped on my forehead. I watched people come and go. I decided to have one more beer and leave. I guess there must be a rest area close to here somewhere. I could always just go there and suck an anonymous dick. No sooner than I took my first swallow of the cold beer than Greg and his crowd walked by on their way out. "See ya, Greg." "Oh hey .... Glen. We're having an after-party at my new digs. I want you to meet my new roommate - Mark. He found the place. You can follow us. I held up my nearly full beer. "Don't worry about it...just stand in the middle of us. The bouncer don't care anyway. His pals helpfully moved me to the center of fags as we headed out. This place had a confederate flag in the window which I didn't like too much. As we walked out into the tropical night I felt some big hands with long fingers on my shoulders. "Hey! You're not allergic to dogs are you?" It was Mark. 6'4" and kind of gawky. "No. I love dogs. Does Greg still have the doberman?" "Two of them now." "Cool." "How old are you?" "23" (I was actually adding a year to my age back then!). "Cool. What do you do." "Art. Some writing." "You work for Hallmark?" "Nope. I applied and submitted a portfolio -- but they never called me. I just freelance now. What do you do?" "Maintenance." Well, that could mean anything. I kinda didn't care enough to ask more. "Finish your beer, man. You don't want to get stopped with an open container." I guzzled it down quickly just as we passed a mailbox. i dropped the empty bottle down the chute. Fuck the government. I hated Bush Sr. "What's the address?" "I'll ride with you and give directions. It's close. We'll be there in two minutes." "Cool." No attraction whatsoever. I could probably go for Greg -- but this guy? No. No way. We got there behind all the others. The party was on the porch I guess. Rainbow flags were everywhere, up and down the street...from porches, from poles. "I'm going to get you into bed tonight." Was he kidding? "Sure. Sounds good." Really cheap beer was being served in cans and I wasn't in any kind of position to turn down free beer. I just couldn't get rid of this Mark guy. He wasn't ugly or anything -- I just didn't sense anything between us would ever happen. The party moved inside once everyone got sick of the mosquitoes. I had to figure that at least a few of them were HIV +. It had finally hit the Midwest with a vengeance. There were no drugs for it except AZT and antibiotics for all the infections. It was looking pretty bleak back then. There were two bathhouses in town but I couldn't to do that. There was a bong being passed around. There were ten guys there -- I had plenty of experience with weed but among a bunch of strangers. It wasn't too long before before they were loading the bowl with a mixture of weed and cocaine. Fuck this. I was stuck in the background as always. SIGH. I wondered where the dogs were. I saw one of those baby gates blocking the kitchen. doorway. I walked over but Mark stopped me. This guy, I swear. "Careful. Georgie is pregnant and will bite you if you get too close." "OK. I think I'll go now." I could just grab another beer, drink it on the porch and go a few blocks home. Of course the Mark dude followed me out the door. "You're not much of a party guy, are you?" He rubbed one of his giant hands up and down my back. "Neither am I, really." "Why the hell would you burn up cocaine? Doesn't that destroy it?" He shrugged. "It must not. Greg does it every night. He has connections. Come back up on the porch and I'll get you another beer. We can sit on the swing." Maybe he wasn't so bad. He was friendly and I was sorely lacking friends in this city. "Where do you do maintenance at?" "Actually -- I'm just a janitor at the county hospital. It pays decent -- and I get benefits." "You see AIDS guys there?" "Oh yeah! Most of them are needle users. Heroine. Shit like that. But some are more and more gay guys who fucked around too much." "Wow," What do you say after that? I didn't have time to think before he was kissing me. Groping me. OK. I guess he was worth chance. For tonight anyway. He was tall and his giant hands were an indication of something, right? Still, I can't imagine our previous conversation had led to a make-out session. "We're kinda out in the open here...let's go inside." Sure. We each grabbed a beer and went past the party people who had taken their shirts off and were randomly pairing up to fondle each other's crotches and smooch. In just a few minutes - all sorts of unsafe behavior would be going on soon. Mark took me back to his bedroom even though there was no actual bed in there -- just a mattress with sheets on the floor. I had so many one night stands in the 90's with guys who didn't own a bed frame. It was pretty common. There was nowhere to sit except on his mattress. "Ha! See? I told you I'd get you into bed!" "Yeah." It wasn't that clever of a joke, but I smiled. We fooled around for a little while but he didn't seem too into it. He stopped me from trying to reach into his shorts. OK. I didn't get it, but I hated being the only one interested. We both silently agreed to call it a night. I showed myself out. The only two people left from the party were Greg and some random guy. They both still had pants on but you could tell they'd come off soon enough. I just got in my car and drove the few blocks home. I can't say it was a 'fun' night, but it was an experience I'd needed to have. Funny how I'd start getting obsessed with this Mark guy over the next few months. I'd see him from to time at Plantation and I tried like hell to get him interested in me again. I had a female friend (Gretel) who had told me that some guys would pursue her for weeks and, then, would get all cold if she expressed an interest back. I had so much to learn about relationships. In the Fall, I was finally hired by Hallmark as a writer. My art was not their style, but they liked my writing...and my ability to mix art with words. That took up most of my time. I became the 'golden boy' there and got raises almost every 8 weeks. This was back when people actually still bought greeting cards. It was a great time for me in most ways -- EXCEPT -- I still didn't have a boyfriend. Everything would have been completely perfect if I had a regular, a familiar dick to come home to. Mark's specifically. Oh well. I kept hunting. Had some luck with a few safe sessions with dudes from the bar. One guy was from out of town had stayed with me the whole weekend. I was sick of him as soon as soon as I'd cum. But he stayed until Sunday night when I dropped him off at the train station. His was the first ass I had eaten. I still wan't sure if I liked it. It seemed a little unsafe to me. By then the ghastly holiday season had begun. I had nowhere to go and no one to call...or send cards to. Whatever. I had upgraded my TV and my premium cable choices. I also bought a Nintendo and had already beaten Tetris to the end. Twice. Wasn't my life supposed to be better than this? I was getting stoned regularly and going to Plantation. I didn't see Mark much but I almost always saw Greg. He was friendlier than usual one night and wanted to chat. "You still single?" It was none of his business, but I needed a friend. "Yeah. How's Mark?" "I don't see him much these days." "I thought he and I would be a good match -- but he's all weird when we talk." "Don't worry 'bout it. You're too good for him. He's into older guys with facial hair." Well, fuck -- I couldn't grow a beard to save my life. It's probably lucky my parents weren't Mennonites. "Oh." "I can introduce you to people. I'm a big bar slut and know everybody. You're cute -- maybe too innocent, but still cute." "I'm not that innocent, Greg. But thanks." He grinned at me and led me down to the basement level where those leather guys were. Ugh. I guess I'd be single through the end of the year. It wasn't as unfriendly as I remember. I guess just being with Greg was like my ticket to join their world. Or maybe it was the leather bomber jacket I'd treated myself to. "I don't see anybody good enough for you tonight." Was he kidding? Just trying to be nice? Flirting??? "I'm not all that great, Greg." "I think you are." It was his roommate I was interested in, but you know it goes with beggars trying to be choosers. He wasn't so bad. Reddish brown hair, facial scruff that was pretty patchy. He wasn't quite as tall as Mark, but I wouldn't mind kissing that mouth. Just as we were about to maybe kiss -- one of his buddies interrupted - "Greg! You gotta come upstairs -- there's a fight! I think the cops are gonna come!" I'd seen the other guy here many times. I remember somebody telling me he was a thief. He'd come home with somebody and steal shit. I was pointedly not invited to join them as they raced away. Alone again....naturally. I saw Mark lurking in the corner. O bought two shots and took him one. "Hey, Stranger. I hear there's a fight upstairs." "It's already over." "Oh -- I got hired by Hallmark finally. I'm a writer in the humor department." "Cool. That makes you a catch. Good job, status. You're the whole package now." But obviously still not for him. I should go home and get really high while playing Mario Brothers. He took the shot but didn't bother to thank me for it. I needed a vaccine for my crush on him. He didn't want me, so why did I still want him? "Later." I bolted with what little dignity I had left. I ate at Denny's on Thanksgiving -- just so I could feel extra sorry for myself. Not bad. I even made a stop at the liquor store as a final 'fuck you' to the holiday. I got extra drunk and listened to the new New Order cassette I'd just bought. It was so, so good! I still love that group. It evokes a time and an emotion that will never happen for me again. Longing, hope, anticipation....I don't ever feel those things now. I made some friends at work. A lot of gay guys worked near there. I met one of them and we were almost sort of dating for a week or two. His thing was to have me kneel down in front of him as he ejaculated on my head and then rub his fingers through the jizz in my hair afterwards. Was that a thing? He was obsessed with my hair. We kind of fizzled out as a couple soon. I'd never date another person from work ever again. Too weird. Hell -- I'd just jack off every night. So much easier. I actually made it through Christmas without sinking completely into self-pity. But.BUT, New Year's Eve was coming -- and I needed to find someone, anyone. I needed a kiss at midnight just once. The Winter was especially cruel that month. The worst ice storm in history was heading our way. Of course. The perfect end to a very imperfect year. PART 2 December 30, 1989 Friday. Hardly anybody was at work. It was a Friday right before a holiday. I still had no plans yet. Fuck it. I'd find somebody at Plantation -- anybody would do. I'd suck whatever dick was there -- I'd even fuck without a rubber if I had to. Fuck safety, fuck shyness -- I'd dive into the first crotch I saw. I left early. The parking garage was empty. Just my lonesome. piece-of-shit car. The sky was getting ominous and the wind had a certain dangerous, freezing smell. I stopped at the bar before happy hour had even officially began. The bartender was a Falcon Video come to life. Muscular, mustache and mostly silent. He was friendlier than usual and gave me happy hour prices on my beer. Maybe he knew the storm was coming and he wouldn't be hauling in big tips tonight. He looked like a complete boss top, but I found out later that he was a total bottom that moved to Florida to live with some doctor. Still nice to look at. I scanned the bar for a dick, any dick to bring home before the storm. Looks and age didn't matter anymore. Oh, Jesus -- there was Mark. He'd found somebody already. A big guy with a salt and pepper beard and weighing about 350 pounds. Yeah...I'd never be his type. Not for a decade at least. And a strict diet of french fries. And probably a fake beard too. The super-hunk bartender tapped me on the shoulder. ''Hey, cutie -- it's starting to rain ice out there. You best get home." He handed me a free shot and a card with his number on it, Cool! His name was Thomas. I left feeling a little hopeful. I knew better than to fall for a bartender -- but, hey, I had to give it shot. Maybe the storm would pass and maybe the temperature would get warmer and maybe, maybe , maybe. Maybe I'd resolve to start being more optimistic in 1990....starting now. Right now. No, really...NOW. No sooner had I decided that when I slipped on the icy sidewalk and landed hard on my ass. This was going to be worse than I thought. Shit. The short drive home was definitely going to be treacherous. My dad used to be an expert at driving in bad weather, but I'd never paid attention to anything he ever said or did. I hated him. It took almost 40 minutes to drive seven blocks. I made it safely despite the multiple fender-benders and the slow as hell salt trucks ahead of me. The doorman let me in. "Hope you got food stored - this is going to be a bad storm." He was a geeky blonde college kid who I'd seen play Risk -- by himself. I wasn't sure if he lived in the building or not. "You live far from here?" "No. Like four blocks away, with my girlfriend. I just walk." Oh. OK. I wondered how many gay residents here had hit on him. Probably more than a few was my guess because he pulled that girlfriend story out right away. Whatever. Looks like I'd be trapped here for the weekend. I guess I could always just start knocking on doors. 'Hey. Want a blow job?' At least we hadn't lost power yet. I had almost a half ounce of weed, a twelve pack of beer and the Nintendo. I thought of my dad who lived still lived in the same house I grew up in. He'd be in the dark already if the same storm had hit there. I needed to eat something. I'd start with stuff from the freezer first in case the power did go out first eventually. Something so sad about a sexless single guy eating frozen pizza four nights a week. SIGH. Forty minutes later and I was playing video games with the AM news station. At least, back then. it wasn't constant right wing hate 24 hours a day. Man, I hoped Bill Clinton would really become the next president. I thought he was kind of sexy. "Authorities are advising people to stay off the streets and highways. If you're stuck in traffic right now--please be patient. We're getting some initial reports power outages in outlying areas. Keep it here on 790 for more on Ice Storm '89." Wow. It already had a name and everything. Even from seven floors up, I could hear tires spinning uselessly on the icy avenue. Poor bastards. I needed to get stoned. For a bit of college nostalgia, I made a makeshift pipe from an empty aluminum can. It's easy. I got a a decent buzz quickly. Time for headphones and tunes! It was a normal Friday night for me after all. Tomorrow was New Year's Eve and I could wait until then to get good and depressed. I was getting really into old Pink Floyd these days and thought "Wish You Were Here" was just about the most perfect thing I'd ever listened to. Every song seemed personal to me back then. It was like being a teenager when you let the Top 40 act as your diary. I became 13 right when rock was fading and New Wave was hitting the airwaves. Let the whole world freeze over now, I didn't care anymore. At some point I woke up feeling super hungry. It was 11 at night. I sat in the kitchen and ate two Snickers bars from the freezer. Then I opened a cold beer and sat at the kitchen table where the phone was being so obviously silent. No messages. No nobody. I needed to call around and see if I could find some company. I figured Thomas was still working or stuck somewhere, but I called anyway. No answer. I looked in the silverware drawer, under the tray where I'd kept phone numbers from random hookups. I tried to remember the faces that went with the names. They all had dicks worth sucking. Who was that one guy, that flight attendant who wanted to fuck me? I just had never done that. Even if I had an actual vagina back there, it just seemed too invasive, too dangerous. It also felt 'weak'. Like I'd be giving up too much. Fuck it. If I could come across a dick tonight, I'd let it do whatever it wanted. Some of them were different area codes -- had to rule those out. Mark! Maybe he'd be done with his new Santa guy by now. I waited until I'd opened my third beer before I finally called his number. Greg. "Hello?" "Hi, Greg. It's Glen. Is Mark there?" "No. Do you know where he is?" "Nope." Idiot. Why would I call if I knew where he was already? "I'm getting worried. I wrecked on Prairie Drive. Nothing major. I just hit a fence outside that Korean church. No tow trucks or cops gonna come in this weather." "Well, I'm glad you made it home safe." "Yeah. I am just now thawing out. What are you doing?" "Not much. Got a little stoned and listened to music. I was going to watch "Up All Night" on USA. It's always something terrible but funny." "Cool. The dogs are so nervous. They hate storms and they hate it when both of us aren't home." "I haven't even looked outside. Is it still coming down?" "I think it's stopped, but the damage is done. Ain't nobody going nowhere tonight." "Well. I haven't got any plans for the weekend. So I'll let the city figure it out. Hey - did you sell all the puppies already?" "Sure did. Got 200 bucks apiece." "I bet they were cute." "Yeah. It broke my heart every time I sold one. There should be a new litter by Spring. Want one?" "Maybe. I started a new job at Hallmark and should be moving to a bigger place some day." "Congratulations! That's so cool." "Yeah. I like it a lot there." "It's nice talking with you, I wish you were here now, I want to be with you," The same thought had been going through my mind. "Same here, Greg. Your house is only a few blocks away. I can't drive, but I could always walk." "OK. That'd be great. If you walk on the grass, it's not so bad. Just be careful crossing the street." "You got any beer?" "No. Nothing. You got some?" "Sure. Give me about 30 minutes." "Bye." CLICK I couldn't believe I was so horny that I'd walk on pure ice to get some cock, some cum. From a guy who'd never commit to anything long-term. He had a needy boner just like I did. I'd taken a few photography classes in art school and some relative had given me a nice leather camera bag. It was big enough to put eight cans of beer in -- if you left the camera and equipment out. I also put two cans in each of my coat pockets too. I also rolled a picture-perfect joint and took that too. I was so glad we hadn't lost electricity in the neighborhood. As I walked through the lobby I saw the dumb-ass doorman playing Yahtzee with himself. "You're not driving in this, are you?" "Nah. I'm just going to get some photos of the storm damage." I pointed to my camera bag as if there was a camera in it. "Make sure you have your keys. I might not be here when you get back." "Got 'em." Jerk "Well, be careful." I didn't even answer that as I walked outside and felt the arctic air wash over me. It was cleanest, purest atmosphere you could ever hope to breathe. Greg was right: the sidewalks were not safe to tread upon. I walked o the crunchy grass before I had to cross the avenue. I didn't own any shoes with tread made for this weather. I just slid diagonally over to Greg's street like I was riding a surfboard. I only fell once. The steps up to Greg's house were tricky, but I managed to crawl up them like a panther on the prowl. His porch light was already on. Greg answered the door wearing only pajama bottoms, socks and a bathrobe. Cool. There'd be sex!! "How is it out there?" "You gotta be careful but it's not too bad walking." "Come sit down, get warm." I took off my coat and put down the camera bag. He already had the heat turned up pretty high. There was no TV in the living room -- I'd never seen such a thing. He had a boom box which was set on some bubblegum pop station I never listened to. 94.6 FM. So I guess we were going to have to fill the time making conversation. "So have you been, Greg?" "Not so bad -- until tonight. I didn't really mess up the car too bad. I only have liability insurance, but I guess I don't have to worry about paying the church for damage to their fence. " It was so warm in here. "Want a beer?" "Hell yeah!" I opened my camera bag and opened two of them out for us. Still cold. I thought I drained beers fast, but Greg swallowed almost all of his before I'd even opened mine. That gave me yet another excuse to drink a lot, quickly. "How are the dogs?" "They spend Winters at my brother's farm in Texas. It's warmer there." We opened more beers, "Is that where you're from? Texas?" "Yeah. You can't tell by the accent? Where are you from?" "Oklahoma." "Wow. You sound like you're from Chicago or somewhere like that." "I've tried my whole life to lose any trace of how my dad talked." Greg nodded. I guess most of us had shitty relationships with our dads. "You're tense. Why?" "I'm not. I'm just....I'm not tense." I was more horny than tense. He had very hairy legs. I couldn't stop looking at them. Oh hell -- I found the joint I'd brought and held it up. "Care to partake?" "Wow. You are a great guest! I would have never guessed you smoked." So we shared the weed and I moved down to the floor (I've always been more comfortable on the floor). Maybe I'd get glimpse up his robe -- not that he wouldn't have just let me open it and get a good look. "Look -- I'm sorry you and Mark didn't work out. He's a flake, man. If I had a guy like you interested in me -- I'd be over the moon!" I was starting to not mind the music so much. Madonna's "Like a Prayer" was on and I loved that song. "Thanks. Did you ever see the Pepsi commercial with Madonna in it? I only saw it once before they pulled it." "No. The video is weird."We finished the joint. And I opened more beers for us while he lit a cigarette. "Want one?" Sure - what the hell? He handed me the one directly from his perfect lips. I kept looking at his long, thick fingers. (also hairy) "You have great hands, Greg." "Yeah? Talk to me about those hands." His voice got deeper. I grabbed his hand -- and slowly sucked each finger. I didn't even know I was into hands until now. "You have manly hands. Big knuckles, I just really like them." "Nice. What do you like to do?" "I pretty much just like to suck dick." Did I really say that out loud? I was fucked up! Shit. "Well...that's a place to start..." He opened his robe and I saw his dick was already hard. It was an usual specimen.,,tiny head and a shaft that quickly got fatter as it went down to the base. Like, WAY fatter. "You like this?" I didn't even bother to answer. A hard dick was inches away and I put my mouth on it immediately. DAMN! I needed this badly. I sucked and sucked until I wore both of us out. "Whoa -- take a break for a minute." I needed to pee anyway. "Where's your bathroom?" He pointed in a general direction as he lit another cigarette. I found it and closed the door. I'm ashamed to admit that I always snooped in other people's medicine cabinets when I used their bathrooms. Good God! The whole thing was full of prescription bottles. Nearly half were for Greg, the other half for Mark. Fuck! AIDS? Right? Fuck! Wait, wait...maybe they just both had allergies really bad. But in the middle of Winter? Dammit -- I'd pretend I never saw all that shit. I just peed and left. I didn't see anything. Nothing. Greg was stroking his boner. "Take off your clothes already!" I did. Even the socks. He was just in his socks but soon peeled those off too. We were completely nude together. I had a stiffy that just wouldn't go down. "You sucked me so good -- I need some lotion on my dick." "Sorry." "Don't be sorry -- just follow me. I got some special lotion you can put on it for me." I was in a trance just watching the tiny, round butt attached to his long lean backside. His bed was perfectly made and there was a small nightlight on an outlet near the floor. He already had a tube of "lotion" uncapped on the nightstand. It was very obviously lube. Butt sex lube. OK. I knew this was day was coming. I was going to have to take it up my butt. Life is full of doors. The doors to sorrow are numerous and always open, but the there are very few doors leading to joy. I finally found one and couldn't turn back now. I went through that door and flopped on the bed. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw that the headboard was this weird imitation leather and there were two wrist straps attached on the sides. OK. This guy was hardcore. We were both naked and both very hard. I was on my back. He sat on my chest with his bare ass. "You want one last taste before I put the lube on?" Yes. I wanted him to fuck my face and gag me with that fat, pointy dick. He pretty much did just that. I gulped and only gagged a little once. He was really going to town, but pulled away just as it sounded like he was going to cum. "Stop!" His sweat was dripping all over me. "Did you bring a condom with you?" "No. I had no idea it would get this far." "Well...I will try to pull out before I nut." He put a generous amount of lube on his cock and a little bit on my asshole which I worked in with a finger. I was about to let a guy with a tons of prescription bottles enter me with no latex covering his dick. So be it. "I don't have the greatest luck" "I want you, Greg. ALL of you." He put my wrists through the straps, hoisted my legs over his shoulders. "Can you turn a little more light on? I want to see you." He had to stretch to reach a little table lamp. It was a very low wattage but at least I could see more of him. He was not a particularly handsome man, but he looked like an angel in this lighting. I wanted him to kiss me, but he was so horny that he wanted to fuck. And so it began -- He worked that tiny head in and it barely hurt. It wasn't until he pushed the fat shaft further that I had decided to change my mind. "NO!" I could barely handle it. "NO! STOP!" "Shh. Just a little bit more. It'll get better. Just hang on." I'd asked for this. As I got used to his cock inside me, it felt better...much better. It wasn't like I could push him off of me anyway. That helplessness helped me enjoy the throbbing waves of pleasure radiating from my inner rectum. My whole body was shaking and that seemed to really get him enthused. My complaints had turned to moans. "Fuck I'm gonna cum." "Don't pull out, Greg. Get me pregnant." "You sure?....ahhhh...DAMN! Here you go, man!" I felt so gypped that I couldn't feel the spurts go into my guts. The mental image was enough, I guess. He fell on top of me and started sucking on my neck hard. He was leaving a hickey for sure. I couldn't stop him. He was so sweaty and had a certain smell that wasn't quite B.O -- but close. Greg was exhausted. He undid my straps and flopped down next to me, breathing heavily. He was asleep within five minutes while I just wanted to go home. I mean, he'd already told me he was a bar slut and couldn't be tied down. I knew I'd just had very risky sex and would probably need to get tested in a few weeks. I had a good medical plan, but it wouldn't kick in until next month. I was told I would not be covered if I was injured jumping out of an airplane. That's pretty much what I'd done. I'd landed safely --but in a nest of scorpions. I went to the living room and got dressed. I knew it was rude to take the rest of my beer with me. You're supposed to leave it with the host, but this probably wouldn't happen again anytime soon. I sat on his couch and drank one of them as fast as I could. I also grabbed his pack of cigarettes, lit one and put it in my coat pocket. Double rude. I could hear Greg snoring from here. It was still icy as fuck outside. Like I even cared now. At this point, even falling and breaking all my teeth out would be OK compared to what I'd just done. What I'd just done to myself. It was a weird sensation to be out at this hour and not see a single car on the streets. Just the haunted sound of Northern wind and crackling, snapping branches. It was the sound of tiny bones breaking. Yep - the doorman was gone by the time I got to my building. I fished out my keys and my hands were numb (I seriously needed to buy some gloves). The power was still working. Miracle. The phone was ringing as I got in the door. Greg? Thomas? I rushed to the kitchen and answered. "Hi." Its was Gretel -- my old high school friend. The first person I came out to. The oven on my clock said 1:10 AM. She rarely called me and never this late. "What's up." "I saw you guys had a big ice storm down there. It was on the news even." "Yeah. It's something else alright. No parties tomorrow night." "Remember that one New Years Eve when we drove around until we found somewhere that would sell us beer? It didn't take long." "It was smart of us to let you go in alone. That guy was so in love with you." "They're called 'tits', Glen." She'd only bought a six-pack but it was enough to make us sick. We were amateurs. I'd gone on to college while she stayed behind for some guy who ended up dumping her when she told him she wanted a baby. She'd only ever planned to be a wife and a mother. "What have you been up to, Gretel?" 'Well..." I knew what she was about to tell me. "I'm pregnant." "Funny. So am I." END

I already knew the myth wasn't true about big feet. And 6.5" isn't small at all. Like I said - if a guy likes a good foot rub and likes his toes sucked, that's all I care about. Anything else that follows is a bonus.

Almost too many too count. Maybe I was improperly potty-trained or something. I love feet above all else. If a guy has nice big feet, I don't care what the rest of him looks like. I like tatts, body hair, tall men, sweat, piss....and so much more.

Note from Toon: This is my very first attempt at science fiction. I'm one of those rare nerds who never got into Star Wars or Star Trek.When I was 15, one of my sisters gave me a collection of Ray Bradbury stories. I liked most of them. I could never compete with his writing skills, but this work of fiction is dedicated to him. For Ray PART ONE Greenville, Mississippi 1961 I was in my senior year of high school and just hoping to scrape by (by the skin of my teeth) and get a diploma. It had been a year of distractions. Mama had one of major nervous spells and was now in that ugly brick institution next to the woods. Daddy owned a hardware store downtown and was there almost always. I sometimes worked there, but he wanted me to focus on my studies so I could get into Ol' Miss. I'd already gotten my rejection letter, but hadn't told anyone. My other distraction was Carl -- my best friend since kindergarten. At thirteen, we'd started "messing around". It started with us just comparing our dicks - when soft and when stiff. It then progressed to yanking off together, followed by us yanking each other off. Just last year we started sucking each other's wangs. I liked it way to much. Just this past December, he'd corn-holed me in his tree house. It didn't hurt so bad and we both enjoyed it a lot. He always asked before he came if he could unload inside of me and I always said "Fill 'er up!" He taught me to smoke and could always sneak some of his daddy's booze up to the tree house. He was my favorite distraction in so many ways. The newest distraction, however, was Vena - our new maid. She came in every day but Thursday when Daddy and I went out to eat burgers and fries. She wasn't one to tell on me, but she was a religious woman and would look at me and say "Mm Hmm". She was a very pleasant, round black woman who made the best fried chicken you've ever had in your whole life. Wonderful desserts as well. I adored her despite her long, shameful looks at me after Carl and had been off on some adventure together. She liked it when I would sit in the kitchen with her and just talk about the world. We'd smoke cigarettes and chat away while the radio played her station. If she was in a really good mood, Vena and I would have afternoon cocktails in front of the TV so she watch her stories. She liked Daddy too because he paid her very well -- more then even some of his workers down at the hardware store, and her daughters were always welcome in our house. She'd usually have only one drink while I always had two or three. She also liked it when my 'girlfriend' came over to study. Becky and I had really never done much together except kiss. I played dumb and never took any of her hints about going further. Carl had a fake girlfriend too, One night, she stayed later than usual because Dad would be kept down at the store 'doing the books'. I didn't need a babysitter but I guess she had found something in my room and wanted to talk about it. "I tell ya somethin', Andrew...if ya'll want to keep secrets in your room then you best learn to clean it your own self." She'd found my rejection letter from Ol' Miss. "I take it your daddy don't know 'bout this?" "No." "You need to tell him." "I will." "Let's go sit on the porch...it's a nice evening and this house is gettin' stuffy." That's when we saw it. It was a rainbow of puke colors twisting in the sky. "Looks like the Northern Lights - but they shouldn't even be visible from here." "What cause that?" "It's got a name, but I don't remember it. (bad student, remember?) Supposed to be caused by the magnetic poles." But the colors didn't seem right. The photographs I'd seen in science books made the lights look very pretty. This, however, was particularly ugly. It seemed very close as well...like you could almost touch it. And then it changed -- you see thousands of thin strands twisting apart from the light. "It look like cobwebs, don't it?" It did. It seemed like they were raining down on the dense woods just outside town. "Maybe we should go inside. I smell something funny." "Oh that just Mr. Larry from next door. He was out sprayin' his bushes with a damn gas mask on. I ain't never seen nobody spray as much chemicals as that man." It was starting to make me sick so I told Vena I was going inside." "OK. There's some pie left. Your daddy should be home before too long." Vena made the best lemon creme pie I'd ever had. "There's over a half a pie left. Take it home to your family." "I just maybe might eat it all on the bus ride home, Andrew!" If Vena wasn't so wonderful, I might miss Mama a lot more. I walked over to the bar and made a pitcher of martinis. Vena arched an eyebrow. "You ain't but barely 18, boy - no need to start all that so soon. Don't be in a hurry to be a grownup - you gonna have to be one for the rest of your life." "It's for Daddy. I'm going to tell him about the letter when he gets home." "Mm Hmm. You do that. See ya'll in the morning." "Good night, Vena." She gave me a quick hug "Good luck, Baby." I decided to have a quick drink myself before he got home. I watched the night sky through the window, The lights were all but gone and I was relieved. I called Carl's house from the kitchen phone. "Hello?" "Evening, Mrs. Holland, is Carl there?" "Nope. He's out somewhere. I thought he was with you." "No," "Well, he should be home soon. I'll tell him you called. Good night, Andrew." So I just sat at the bar and had a cigarette and sipped a martini. And then another. I guess I always knew I'd be a smoker and a drinker when I grew up. I'd just be smart about it. Another hour passed and another pitcher was made. My drinking with Carl had built up a tolerance in me I guess. I saw his lights come up the driveway. I could tell by the way he slammed the car door that he was not in a great mood. Maybe I'd show him the letter tomorrow. He blustered in the front door. Yep - he was unhappy already. "Hi, Daddy. I made you a drink. Figured you might need one." "Goddamn right I do. Shit day." He was getting used to Mama not being around because he would never say swears in front of her. It occurred to me that she might never come home. "I might need you to come back to the store and help keep an eye on things. Some fucker has been stealing!" He was scratching the back of his neck furiously. "I can do that." "On top of it all, I got some kind of bug bite on my head and on my neck." "Mosquitoes? So early?" "Hell -they never leave. It was that or a spider. Power went off for a few minutes too. Did it go out here?" "No - but there was a weird magnetic storm over the woods tonight. Maybe a solar flare or something." "Take a look at the back of my neck, would ya?" I l did...it looked like a tiny blackhead is all. "Looks like a small bite is all. I don't think it was a mosquito though. It's not hardly red." "Christ. You been smokin'?" "Yeah." "Well, You're not a kid anymore. Your growth sure as hell can't be stunted now, I suppose." Dad drank fast and I poured him another. He never liked olives or lemon twists or cocktail onions in his drinks. I loved olives. I them poured one for myself. He shook his head. "I guess that Carl showed you how to drink too. Kid's bad news, Andy. I told you that from the start." "But aren't you glad I'm not hiding it?" "I s'pose. I need you to do me a favor, Son." "Sure." "I need you visit your mother tomorrow. It's been too long. It's been too long since she seen you." "I've written her, sent cards -- she never wrote back. She has never called neither. I know they're allowed to use the phone if they want to." "But you miss her, right?" I shrugged. "You only get one mother, Andrew. It might do her a world of good to see you." I knew better than to mention he hadn't been to see her in months. "Vena left you two pork chops, green beans and mashed potatoes in the fridge. I can warm it up for you." "Don't bother -- I'll just drink my dinner tonight. We got any of them spicy nuts left?" It got to be near 10 o'clock and Daddy had already gone to bed nearly an hour ago. I stayed up in case Carl called, but the drinks had made me tired. I lingered a bit and watched the TV news a little before finally going upstairs. Damn Carl. Where could he be so late on a Thursday night? Who was he with? As I passed by Daddy's room, I heard him groan. He was prone to nightmares sometimes. But no. I could hear his bed springs sing out and the unmistakable sound of him yanking off. I knew everybody did it. But I'd never heard him do it. So weird. He was really, really enjoying himself. I left quickly and went to brush my teeth. Both me and Vena and a few other people thought he was screwing Miss Leibert from the the bank. I remember Vena saying "He a right handsome man - if he was to have an affair with that cheap-ass woman, I wouldn't even be surprised." I guess he was getting all he needed from his right hand now. PART TWO Mom's car had pretty much become mine now. I gave myself permission to skip school that Friday morning. Vena was surprised to find me still in bed when she arrived. "What in the hell, boy?" "Leave me be, Vena. I'm goin' to visit Mama this morning." She sucked her teeth and thought a minute. "You sure you ready for that? It been awhile." "Yeah. It's no big deal. Last time I was there, she didn't seem to know who I was." "Your daddy know 'bout this?" "He's the one making me go." "Get up and get ready. I'll make you some breakfast and then I got to go to the grocery." I didn't bother with a shower because I just didn't care about what any of those nut house people thought of how I looked like. I just put on the smoke-soaked clothes from yesterday. I got downstairs to keep Vena company while she cooked. "Did you even bother to comb your damn hair? Wash your face?" "No. Why bother?" "Ain't got no time for this horse shit, Andrew. I got a bunch of bug bites waitin' for the bus last night." "Look - you can take my car to the market. I'll just wait til you get back." That cheered her right up. She put some pancakes down in front of me with a glass of milk and a glass of pineapple juice.I gave her my keys and she started to walk out. "Oh I almost forgot. My youngest drew a picture for you." She pulled it from her purse. It looked like a worm with teeth and legs. She'd written 'FoR AndREw' at the top. "She knows how to spell already?" "Oh she's a smart one. Knew all her letters by three. She impresses the hell out those ladies at the preschool." "Is it a bug?" "I don't never ask her what somethin' is - I just tell her it good. It's to build her seff esteem." "I like it. I'll draw something for her too." "That'd be real sweet. I should be back in an hour. I got to pick up some dry cleanin' for your daddy first." As soon as she left, I dumped the breakfast in the trash and went over to make myself a coke with whiskey in it. Wasn't no way I was gonna visit that place without a drink or two in me. No sooner had I made the drink and lit a cigarette than I heard a knock on the patio door that led to the back yard. I somehow knew it was Carl. I mean, who else? It was. I held the smoke in my mouth and opened the sliding glass door. Was I mad at him? He never called. I guess we'd never put a label on what we were to each other, but I needed him. Lousy cur. "I guess you decided to skip too." "No," I answered coldly,"I'm going to visit my mother in a little while." "Oh. Come outside for a minute. I got somethin' to show you." We'd played this game before. He'd say just those words and it usually meant he was going to show me is his big, hard wang and then I'd suck it or let him fuck me with it. Not today, pal. I wasn't in the mood. "Nah. Vena will be back soon." "No she won't. I just saw her drive away while I was walking over. She acted like she didn't see me. I guess that nigra don't like me." "No. You don't use that word around me....ever. I've gotta go. Have fun." "Wait! What's wrong?" "Did your mom tell you I called?" "No. I haven't been home all night." "Why? With who?" "I went to the woods. Alone. I thought I'd see what was going on with where those lights led to. I thought it was a UFO or something." "You did that for the whole night?" He so full of shit. "Yeah. It was magical." His arms and face were pocked with the same bites my daddy had. "How?" "I got to show you. You can leave if you want, but I still got to do this..." And then popped out his fat red dick and started yanking off right there on the patio. I couldn't help but watch. He was so much bigger than I was. "Sure you don't want to get down here and help out?" "Nah. I'm good." And then he shot his wad. And - it was jet black. Like ink. The hell? "What...what happened?" There was a black/dark brown puddle of it right there on the brick patio, "I don't know, Andy. I've beat my pud six times since midnight. If your bedroom was on the first floor, I would have come in the window and fucked your ass 'til morning." "Maybe you need to go see a doctor, Carl." "Hell no. I've never felt so good. I don't even think I'll ever need sleep again -- that's how good I feel." "But that's abnormal, Carl. Your sperm is black. It's toxic." "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just wait til it happens to you. You'll see." And then he left. I'd have to clean that wet stain up later. I wanted another drink. What was going on? Bugs and masturbation? What was the connection? And the lights? I felt queasy. I went back inside and found that all the ice had melted. It was watery now. I took a few long sips and then added some more whisky. Had another cigarette. I was thinking about all the weirdness that had happened since last night. Vena was home. Thank the Lord she didn't arrive while Carl was here. I rushed to help her with the bags. She could smell the whisky. "I swear, boy. I ain't in no mood for your nonsense. People are drivin' crazy today. You best go now and get off the streets before it gets too nuts." She realized what she'd said. "Sorry. I didn't mean..." "Don't worry about it." "You do like yourself a drink don't you. Don't turn into my husband or I slap the mouth off your face." "I'm going now. I just want to get this over with." She shook her head and watched me leave. There was something up alright. So much careless driving and loud honking. I couldn't wait to get out of town and onto to the two-lane highway. I wasn't looking forward to this. Not all. And then I was there. Ugh. There was plenty of parking space because nobody came here unless they had to. First thing you notice about Klaussen Hospital is the strong smell of ammonia and pee. It would be a long time before I ever came back. Vena's sister worked here somewhere but I think it was in the kitchen. I signed in at the desk. "Oh. The nurse from Diane's floor is right here -- let me fetch her. A plump nurse with a blonde beehive came out and smiled. "You came on a good day. She likes sitting outside these days. It gives her color and helps her sleep better. She'll be happy to see you. I'm Nancy." Whatever. I followed her out to 'the garden' where I saw her right away. Her eyes were closed and she was soaking up the late morning sun. Nancy had the attendant bring another chair so I could sit across from her. I sat and she opened her eyes. "Hi, Mama." "Yes, yes. Absolutely." She just grinned at me like an idiot. "How are you feeling?" "Perfect! I remember you. Henry?" That was her brother's name. "No. I'm Andrew. I'm your son." "Hush now, Henry. Will you read to me? Play your records for me?" "Sorry. No." I left. The attendant opened the door for me. I just left and drove home. "That was fast." Vena saw me come in. "She was so out of it, she didn't know who I was." "Go rest, baby. I'll bring you a snack later. They drug them pretty heavy there. Don't let it fret you none. I put clean sheets on your bed." I remember falling asleep to the memory of Carl's dick spurting that black goo. It was well past five when Vena finally woke me up with a sandwich and a cold bottle of coke. She stroked my hair lovingly. "It'll all be OK, baby. There's part of your mama who loves you deep inside somewhere." You eat up and come downstairs and keep me company." The sandwich was peanut butter and marshmallow fluff. My favorite. She was also baking a chocolate cake -- I could smell it from here. I sat at my desk and drew a picture for Poppy - Vena's four year old daughter. I was pretty good at drawing.Best in my class. I drew a beautiful woman sitting on a picnic blanket with flowers all around around her. I signed it and wrote 'For Poppy With Love' at the top. I put my shoes on and headed downstairs with the drawing, my plate and most of the coke left in the bottle. Vena was singing one of her gospel songs. She had a perfect voice. I stopped at the bar and topped off the coke with more whisky. "Thank you, Vena." I meant that for so many reasons. "Come sit with me for a spell. Tell me all about it." We smoked and shared my spiked Coke. "I hate that place. I hate everything about it. I'm never going back." "Hush that now. She jus' a little sick is all. She'll get better and move back." I could tell even she didn't believe that. "Carl has called three time today. I don't like that boy." "He's okay, really. My best friend." "Mm Hmm. I think your daddy want to cook out this weekend - can you go out and make sure the grill is clean?" "Yeah." It was still light out. Would I call Carl back? Maybe. I was getting curious." And then I saw that not only had the puddle of his spunk, dried --but it was moving. The hell? I got on my knees and looked closer. Tiny, tiny little bugs. Aphids? No. They were worm-like with scorpion tails and pincers on the head. They were scattering fast. I jumped away and went back inside. Holy fuck! I do believe the world was ending. Carl's weird black sperm had turned into actual bugs. I brought the whole bottle of whiskey to the kitchen. "What? You look like you seen a ghost." I could breathe again. "Have you seen weird things lately, Vena?" "Like what?" "Bugs?" "Little, black, shiny things? Yeah I saw a bunch of them when I was changing your daddy's sheets. I'm a tell him he need to call the exterminator." A man's nut was changing into bugs now. "There's an infestation of some sort. I saw them out back." "Mm Hmm. It's somethin' new. I find new weeds in my garden near ev'ry day. Things I ain't never seen before." The oven timer went off. Vena took the beautiful cake out of the oven. It was looking perfect - just like everything else she baked. "It got to cool first before I can frost it, Don't touch it boy. We need to talk, Andrew. Your Daddy is gonna be late tonight. He done got hisself a date, That lady from the florist store. Ain't none of my bizness what a man do, but he wanted me to tell you. I think he jus tjhink he wanted me to tell you. What you thinkin' 'bout?" "I guess he's lonely. Mama ain't never coming home." "Well - I told him all what you said 'bout your visit. He my boss, Andrew. I wasn't tryin' to tell on you. Want me to stay late. We can play cards and look at TV. I'll make that cheese popcorn you like." "No. Just give Poppy this." I handed her the drawing. "Dear Lord! She gonna love this! You got talents, boy! You did this all on you own?" "Yeah. I like drawing." "This lady look kinda like your Mama in those pictures I seen hangin' in the living room." "It's Paula Prentiss." "You put in shading and ev'rything. She gonna be in love you more than she already is." She got up on her tip-toes and kissed me on the forehead. "You so sweet." The phone rang. "I'll get it, Vena. It's probably Carl." She nodded and started to go mix her frosting. "Hey Buddy!" (Carl) "Hi." "My folks are goin' to a party tonight. Want to come over and watch 'Nightmare Theater' with me?" Carl and his bug-filled sperm. Could I handle that? "What time?" "Sometime after supper. Come when it gets dark out." "OK. Want me to bring booze?" "Nah. I got everything. Bring your sleeping bag and your toothbrush." "See you tonight." CLICK. No sooner had I hung up the phone when it rang again. It was Becky. "Where were you today? We had a pep assembly and a pop quiz in Chemistry." "Pep assembly? For what? I thought everything was over for the year." "Silly! The basketball team is in the run for the regional championship." "Oh. Who cares." "Oh, you're in a fine mood." "I went to see my mama today." "Oh. Is she not better yet?" Idiot "So I guess you don't want to go see that new Vincent Price movie tonight." No "Well - I'll go with Mitch Montgomery I guess. A girl can't go by herself to a movie on Saturday night." Fine with me "Okay. Bye." CLICK I'd forgotten to ask if she'd gotten any bug bites recently. Maybe it didn't affect women the same way it did men. Vena seemed the same. I went back out to the kitchen where Vena was frosting the cake. It looked like something out of Good Housekeeping magazine. "I added some orange zest to the icing...make it a little extra special. Who called? Was it Becky?" "Yeah," I answered. "Something goin' on with you two? I don't hardly never see her these days." I shrugged. I poured myself some more whisky into what was left of my already spiked coke. Vena pretended she didn't notice. "Oh Lord - it look we gonna have a storm coming through tonight." "You can take the car, Vena. I'll just walk over to Carl's. He lives close." "I swear -- you is the sweetest boy ever." "Not really. But thank you. No sense in getting rained on or getting more bug bites." "Oh, they fine now. Healed right up already. Don't even itch none." I turned on the TV to see the local news. Hurricane season had just begun and the last one did a number on our roof. Rain was likely but they said it wasn't due until close to midnight. Less than an inch. I went to report to Vena what the weatherman said. "Yeah - they sayin' the same thing on the radio. I had to change the station because they was playin' that same commercial for the used car place over and over." "Daddy always says not to ever do business with a place that advertises too much -- they have to make back that money somewhere." "He right. Smart man. You gettin' hungry, child? Or is your stomach too full of whiskey? I think that's why you ain't had an appetite lately. Too much drinkin'." "Yeah. And I'll probably have supper over at Carl's. They eat late. Make something for yourself though. Daddy didn't eat those pork chops last night." "Nah. Since I got the car, Ima go pick up pizzas from that new place. Girls are having a sleepover with they friends tonight. I ain't gonna get no sleep tonight. It OK that I can't bring the car back 'til Monday mornin? Maybe I best leave it." "No. It's fine." PART THREE It's not too often that I had the whole house to myself for the night. If Daddy started seeing some woman, I guess I'd have more of these nights. " I cut myself a big slice of the cake and ate most of it in three bites. SO good! Mama would make me another cake. I had to face facts. (I'd have no idea that right as I ate the last cake crumbs off my plate, my mama was getting raped right there on the hospital grounds. We wouldn't find out until weeks later.) I was pretending to be grown man with my own house as I sat at the bar and poured whisky into a fresh coke. I smoked two or three cigarettes while playing the radio on a rock and roll station -- louder than I'd ever play it around Vena or Daddy. I sat and thought about what Becky and Mitch might probably be doing right now. I hope he was giving her what she needed, Unless he had bitten by the weird bugs -- then God only knows what she was getting. Not my problem now. I still had Carl to deal with. Why was I so eager to see him again? He was poisonous now. Why did it turn me on a little? I got my sleeping bag from the closet under the stairs. I then went up to grab my toothbrush....and a new bottle of Listerine. It was dark out and ol' Larry from next door still spraying his roses and cussing up a storm. I wonder if he saw the little alien bugs already. He wasn't wearing a mask tonight. It was probably kinda late for him anyway - his hair was falling out in chunks already. He then started cussing at me. "Tell your father to use a smaller watt bulb in his porch light. It's attracting every bug in the county here. And why the hell don't your maid wear a goddamn uniform. We got standards in this neighborhood. You know how it looks with her wearing whatever she wants? Like she's a friend or something?" "Fuck off, old man." He was shocked into complete silence. All I heard as I walked away was some thunder in the distance. I didn't care if he told my daddy. I hadn't got but a block and a half when one of them landed on the back of my arm. An alien bug had bit into my and I immediately slapped it with the palm of my other hand. Nothing. It was gone. But I felt the bite...a tiny little sting that didn't feel hardly hurt. Well - it was bound to happen eventually. I guess there was nothing left to fear now. It was only the one bite so far and I was almost to Carl's house. He was sitting on his front steps. "We best stay out here for a spell -- they're running late and fighting about it." I could tell from just the light from the street lamp that he had dark circles under his eyes. "Have you slept at all, Carl?" "Yeah -- well, I tried. Had some very horny dreams about you." "I'm worried about you, You remember you blowing your wad on my patio this morning?" "Yeah. And you wouldn't help me with it." "Remember how it was black? It dried up and turned into bugs. hundreds of tiny little black bugs." "SO?" "So it worries me." "Why? Those little bugs mature fast and are biting everybody. Think they won't get to you too? "I got bit on the way over here. Am I gonna end up like you? - unable to sleep and beating my meat all day?" "Just one bite? I don't know. I got bit about fifty times the other night and maybe that's why it happened so fast. I actually think they burrow into you fast as a bullet. Who cares?" "I care." "Don't care and don't worry. These things came from outer space for a reason for a reason Andy...ever think it's to help us evolve?" "What does it do to women? Vena got bit the same night you did and she's entirely normal. Maybe even a little nicer than usual." "I guess they need men only." "It's still weird. Everything is weird now. I think I broke up with Becky. She's out with Mitch Holland. And my dad is on a date right now." "Yeah. I blew off Janet too. She's got big tits and will find some other dude fast. I just want you. And I'm pretty sure you just want me." His folks were still fighting. "But is it a disease? If they're from outer space, they might be hostile." "And you can do WHAT about it?" "Nothing, I guess. I can't fix my sick mama or my shitty grades or my anything." "It will all change soon. I promise." Just then, Mrs. Tollis came huffing out of the front door, leaving a trail of perfume, gin and hostility. She was wearing a really expensive dress and jewelry was clinking everywhere. Mr. Tollis followed, in a much better mood. "How are you, Andrew? Haven't seen you for awhile. Excited about graduation?" Mrs. Tollis honked the car horn and seemed really eager to leave. "Shit and goddamn. Gotta go." They practically burned rubber leaving the driveway. "Well," Carl stood up, "Let's go inside and have some cocktails." We went in. "Mama is having an affair with one of Daddy's bosses. A divorce is coming." "Yeah. I think one's on its way my way too. Let's have a drink." "Would he really divorce your mama while she's in the nut house?" "She's never coming home, Carl. She's gone for good." "Here, I made us screwdrivers. Heavy on the 'screw'." I wasn't sure what he meant until I tasted it....mostly vodka with just a little orange juice. Perfect. Carl went over and put his new Ricky Nelson album on the record player. I preferred Del Shannon, but this wasn't so bad. "You got any peanuts or pretzels? I'm craving some salt right now." "Already made us some popcorn and added lots of butter and tons of salt." He fetched it and brought it back to the living room. I loved how ridiculously salty it was. Maybe the little bug inside of me was making me crave sodium. Whatever. "They like salt and sugar." Carl was possibly reading my thoughts all the sudden. "Maybe not. My supper was a giant piece of cake. And that was before my bug bite." And then he just stood me up and planted a big ol' kiss on my mouth. He was grinding his hard crotch against me. "We got time before the movie starts....wanna fool around a little?" I did. I really did. I mean, I would have black semen myself someday soon. I'd be shooting out my own bugs soon enough. I had always craved his dick anyway. We'd never kissed like this before though...it was nice. Perfect. I could have lasted much longer except I was unzipping his pants to free that gorgeous pecker of his. I Just got right down on my knees and sucked him like it's the only thing in the world that mattered. I took him deeper and deeper -- I wanted it to tickle my lungs. Carl was into as well, holding the back of my head and humping away. "Yeah...yeah, Andy. I want to unload down your fucking throat." And then he did -- while "Hello Mary Lou" was blaring in the background. I suddenly felt the need to shoot my own wad. Badly! I just stood up and pulled out my pecker. I'd barely touched it when I shot. It was still white and watery, but Carl caught most of it in his hand. I'd never felt so good. He slurped up my spunk and licked his fingers. "Wow." "I know. You feel really good, right? It get's even better." I wanted to kiss again, but I guess the moment had passed. "Whoa! Look! It's started again!" He was looking out the window at those weird lights that were back again. "Let's go out and look. It's almost directly over us this time. Cool!" We stepped out into the night. The storm was closer too -- those ugly lights were all blotched from the clouds. It started to rain and the wind picked up. This could get real weird, real fast. We stood out in his front yard and looked at the bizarre light show above us. And then there was lightning on top of everything else. "We should go inside, Carl. You're not even wearing shoes." I was pretty afraid of lightning. Nearly phobic. Catching pneumonia too. I had been raised to be afraid of almost everything - back when my parents still cared. "Two more minutes." I decided to go stand on the porch and wait until he was drenched. There were about half a dozen of the little bugs crawling on my skin and clothes. I wiped them away even though they really couldn't do too much more damage to me than they already had. I still got bit. I felt it. Suddenly, a blinding, bright white bolt of lightning struck across the street. I mean, you could feel the heat from it. "Carl!! Come back inside, shit head!" "OK. OK." He stepped up onto the porch with bugs crawling all over him. Gross. I wiped off as many as I could from his body. "They crawled down my collar too. No bites yet. There must be no room in me for any more if them. Tickles." We went inside and settled into the living room. You should change clothes -- you're soaking wet. Towel off and change." He padded upstairs and I quickly made us both drinks and grabbed the popcorn. His folks' bar was nicer than ours. Nightmare Theater wouldn't start for another twenty minutes - if the power didn't go out. It seemed to have passed already...leaving just a steady rain. Weird lights were gone too. My guess was the whole state was infested by now. So be it. I was powerless to do anything, to fix anything. Carl came back, dry but naked. I guess I had to be OK with that. He was way more comfortable with his body than I was. I remember a time when my parents used to bring me to church every Sunday...even though I had no idea what the minister was babbling about. I just doodled on the church program and pretended to sing the hymns. We'd get home and Mama would make waffles. "You polished off all the popcorn already?" I avoided looking at his groin. "Yeah. Sorry." "We got chips if you want 'em." "Nah. Sit and have a drink with me." "Perfect. Got an extra cigarette?" "Yeah. Here." I lit it for him like a husband would light his wife's cigarette. "Hell, Andy -- this drink is too weak! Let me re-make a batch." He took away our glasses and dumped them in the little sink. He made a fresh pitcher --'heavy on the screw'. We sat and smoked and imbibed. He would sometimes tug at his prick, but not too obviously. I used to make fun of that song'Earth Angel', but ya know -- I'd love to sing it you right now." "Go ahead." "I can't sing - you know that." Yep. He couldn't carry a tune to save his life. But it was a sweet thing to say (Earth angel - will you be mine?). "Nightmare Theater is about to start...do you know what they're showing?" "Bride of the Monster." Ugh. Ed Wood. "Again? That is a total shit movie." "But Bela Lugosi was hilarious. and that big, bald guy." "Let's just sit here and talk. And get shit-faced." "Cool. I like that idea. Have you told your old man about not getting into college, yet?" "Nah. I doubt he's too interested in that anymore. I'm going to work for him I guess...the rest of my life." "Think he'd hire me too?" "Probably. Hell, I could probably demand it." We were kissing again. I might probably like kissing more than fucking and sucking. His tongue was stretching so far it was touching my molars. Glorious. He pulled away first. "I've got a great idea." He always did. "Let's hear it." "Let's finish our screwdrivers, go out back to the tree house and listen to my new transistor radio. I've got a camping lantern out there too." "And your sleeping bag?" "Forget it. We'll share yours." Fine with me. We'd done that before. "Drink up. I can hardly wait." He was openly stroking his big, hard wang. I just drank up and lit another smoke. I was also very erect just then. "The record ended. Don't have you anything....'blacker'?" "The Marvelettes? Is that colored enough for you?" I hated that word but didn't say anything. "Chubby Checker?" "Just pick one." He picked Chubby Checker. "Is this what Vena listens to?" "She likes blues and gospel mostly." We drank and smoked. I was drunk. I might have even bent down to kiss his dick once or twice. "Let's go out now!" "It's raining. Hard. Is your tree house roof going to hold?" "Who cares? We'll get wet. Just take off your clothes and leave them in here." I did just that and we banged our boners against each others for a few hot, amusing seconds. "Let's go!" At least Carl was still sober enough to grab my sleeping bag and smokes before we headed out. I watched his wet ass bob in front of me to the tree where his little hideaway was. Same ladder made from planks nailed into the tree. Same smell too. God, we hadn't been up here for awhile. He turned on the battery-powered lantern. Some of those bugs were scuttling around. I didn't care anymore. I was one of them now. I had already accepted it. "Where's the radio?" "Here." It was in the sketchy shadows. "Any station you want?" "Whatever you listen to when you wank off." "Yeah?" He was so goddamn erect and his pecker was making dancing shadows everywhere. I just lied down and put my legs up into the air. He wasted no time. He was all the way inside of me before I even felt a twinge of discomfort. "Go as deep as you can, Carl! Make me hurt!" He obliged. twisting and tilting and heaving until he shot that inky, black load deep up my intestines. More bugs. I welcomed them. We fell asleep in each other's arms as a second wave of the storm passed above our naked bodies. I loved the idea of my alien space bugs mingling with his. Maybe we'd create a whole new version of them. END

Glen Steers. He died too young and would have turned 60 this year. All of the images I could find of him were copyrighted,

Thanks, man. I was worried this one was just too weird. I hope you're well. xx

This work of fiction is dedicated to Lisa a Canadian peninsula, 1937 I was never told why exactly our people came to this land. Some say it was to escape the Civil War that many feared would last forever and we'd never know peace. Others say it was to start a religion that ultimately failed to take hold. We were a region without faith -- possibly because of the abominations that inhabited the lush valley in the middle of the island. The soil was rich, black and crops grew well but no one dared to raise livestock because the abominations would snatch them up for food. They were giants, near sixty feet tall. Some of them had two eyes and some just had one. It was said that one should never look into their eyes because they would steal your soul. I'd heard the tale that my own father had wandered too close to the valley in a stupor. Some say he'd been hypnotized, but my own Mama told me he had simply 'taken to drink' and just disappeared during a blizzard. . No one would go near the valley out of fear and also because of the stench from their waste. My mother sold her canned vegetables and berries in town along with her handmade quilts and such. Near her shop was old Mrs. Silven who sold jewelry and was known as an oracle. She could predict things. She's the one who warned my mother to keep a close eye on me. "He's a boy, Hannah. Boys are daring and foolhardy and this one.." she pointed a gnarled finger at me and looked into my straw-colored eyes "..this one is drawn to the valley." Mama thought her a kook, but still kept a close watch on me. I was strangely drawn to the valley. The smell was no worse that some others I had smelled. I'd never seen one of the giants before and really wanted to at least catch a glimpse. Mama believed in God who was some giant man in the sky that I'd never seen. There were giant men here who could be seen -- why were they were not worthy of worship? That's the other thing...there were only male giants on the island. No females. According to the old woman, the added stench in the air was from the rotting bodies of giants who were succumbing to sickness. "They harpoon each other in their backsides which causes them to take sick and die. It comes from the unnatural acts. Sinning against nature brought about their plaque." Mama and the old witch thought they'd all be gone from the valley in a year's time. I hoped not. I was older now and had found ways to sneak off every chance I got. I smoked hand-rolled cigarettes on my walks to the valley. I could hear them at times, but still hadn't see one. One Summer, Mama took to her bed with a sickness of her own. Her heart had always been weak and she went through bad spells. I tended her shop and her garden and made her meals. The rest of my time was spent in the valley. There was an ice cold creek running through the bottom and rumor had it there was a little waterfall somewhere nearby. I pretended to be in search of that, but I wanted to see the giants, see them committing unnatural acts with each other. What I finally found though was a giant's corpse. He had died lying down on crushed trees and boulders. He hadn't been dead long and only had a slight, sweet smell of rot. I saw a raggedy coyote approach the body and sniff it carefully. I wanted to chase it away. If only I'd brought my rifle. And then a giant hand reached down and snatched away the unlucky predator. Standing nearby was a living giant who had been waiting by the body, using it for bait to attract food. At least they weren't cannibals, as had been rumored. The living giant smelled worse than the dead one. He had moss growing between his enormous toes and actual toadstools on his toenails . And then he finally saw me. Was I done for? I'd bring my rifle and hunt game for this GOD. I told Him as much with my mind, He was naked of course. He reached down and grasped me lightly with one hand. I could look down at the tops of trees when he lift me up to his face. He looked right at me with eyes the size of large crates. I didn't care if He took my soul with the stare. I wasn't using it for much anyway. He stuck out an enormous red, pointed tongue and licked my chest. It was softer and not nearly as rough as one might imagine. It was a test as well as a taste. If He ate me, I believe it would only be painful for a second, maybe less. He smiled with a mouth full of jagged teeth that were mostly rotted. I inhaled the vile smell of his breath as if it were holy incense. Hot and humid. He then set me down at His feet. I bowed my head and vowed my allegiance to Him for eternity. And then he made water which washed me completely as it shot me right on my scalp. I understood I was being baptized. It strangely didn't have much of a smell. Or else my sense of smell had been deadened by His other odors. He turned and left, making a new path through the ruined brush and downed trees. I was unable to move for a minute or more. Maybe many minutes more. I was new. I took a short swim in the creek even though it was washing away some of the holy Man Water away. Mama could smell anything, weak heart or not. And old Mrs. Silven was tending to her and she'd know what I'd done. She was part Indian and knew all about root doctorin', herbs, teas and such. I'd avoid her as much as possible. She'd sense my recent conversion and worry Mama's poor heart. I took the long way home so my clothes could dry some. I was barefoot - so at least I didn't have socks or shoes to worry about. It was a hot Summer day and I was nearly dry as when I left from the homestead. No Mrs. Silven when I got home, but Mama was callin' for me. "Boy -- bring me a cold wet cloth for my head. I must be almost mended because I no longer feelin' chilly. You been swimming? I smell the water." "Yes, M'am. I went for a dip in the pond out back." "Careful of snapper turtles -- they'll bite the toes clean off your feet. Did you tend the garden?" I hadn't. "Not yet. Let me fetch you that wet cloth first." I fetched a cloth and soaked it in the cold well water, wrung it out and brought it back to put across her forehead. "You want some Supper, Ma?" "No. Mrs. Silven brought over a concoction made from plants and the web of some special spider. It made me feel stronger but my appetite id completely gone. I'll be able to get up tomorrow." "Good. I might be going out to camp with Luke and Jim tonight. Will you be fine here without me?" "Yes. Have fun. But come here." She took my hand. "You're a man now, Joseph. I know you crave adventure and new things. Please have a care about the bad things in this world. You've strayed from the Lord and I can't make you come back. But know I pray for you always." "I'll tend to the garden now, Mama." She sighed heavily as I left her room. I checked the garden for weeds and grubs. It was thriving in the hot sun and regular rainfall. Was I just imagining it -- or were the gourds getting bigger and riper as I stood near them? The tomatoes too. No. I'd been blessed. That's why the valley was so lush and verdant -- God, Gods lived there. I hadn't strayed from the Lord, Mama. I'd found Him/Them. The strawberries were huge. Getting bigger, redder before my eyes. Thank you for this abundance, Giant Gods. I went back inside to tell Mama that the berries and tomatoes were nearly ready to harvest. "'Tis not possible, Joseph. It's too early." I took her hand to spread my blessed powers to her heart. " "You'll soon be well enough to check for yourself." and she suddenly gasped. "Yes. I want to see. Now. I am feeling perfect." I helped her up and we out to the garden while she she was still her nightgown. "I'll be! 'Tis a miracle!" "I was going to eat some bread with cured ham before I left. Want to join me?" "I do! I surely do!" I prepared us some plates of crusty bread and chunks of ham. Cheese would have been good too, but the price was too dear just now. Mama ate everything on her plate. She had her color back. I helped her to the chair where she liked to read by the light of a kerosene lamp. "It might get colder tonight, Son. Take some matchsticks from the kitchen and build a fire if you have to. This hot spell can't last forever. Take one of Grandmother Tarsie's old blankets too. Just please be careful." I wouldn't just be careful, Mama -- I'd be cared for. I packed my rucksack and headed to town first. I stopped behind Jim's papa's shop and purchased some moonshine he brewed. I knew my own father took to drink and it killed him eventually. But I hankered for some tonight. I was immortal now. I wore shoes this time. I'd be mindful of my God's droppings by just smelling for them. I made it down to the creek just as the sun had set. I found where the previous giant had made a path. Did He want me to follow it? I chose a spot to build a bonfire. I gathered some kindling from nearby. Summer storms had dropped many limbs, thin branches and sticks. Those plus some dry, dead brush made starting a bonfire fairly easy. It grew brighter and larger than I'd thought. This would draw Them to me. I sat near the luxurious warmth of the flames and drank some of the moonshine. I wasn't hard on my tongue or my throat - but it hit my belly like a grenade. I fought to breathe. I smoked my last cigarette and took another sip. Maybe They were fearful of fire. Maybe They were all deep in slumber. I drank more and wished I'd brought another cigarette. The sounds. They were coming this way. I heard trees falling under The weight of Their heavy, strong feet came crashing toward the fire. I'd see all of them at last. There were six or seven of Them. Standing near me - plus two more on the other side of the creek. I knelt down in plain sight, praying, sending them my mental promises of devotion and servitude. They didn't talk exactly -- it sounded like barks and hoots. I think the giant I'd met earlier was the one who picked me up and started passing me around to the others. Their hands were rough and Their long, nails tore my clothes to shreds. Each of them drank in my soul through Their eyes (two of Them only had one eye). I was happy to feed them. Their voices became murmurs. I was put down again and They each started to pleasuring Themselves with Their hands. I got undressed completely and stood naked before them . I knew seed would rain down on me. I had so many cuts on my body from Their nails. I was willing to sacrifice as much blood as I had in me to Them. It didn't take long for a large puddle of holy sperm to land on me. It was heavy and knocked me to the ground. It smelled wonderful. More kept falling and splattering on my prostate body. I just couldn't believe how much weight each drop carried. One of the spurts nearly put out the fire. There was white/gray/milky puddles all around me. My open wounds were exposed to it and it must have gotten deep inside me; it felt like the force of life itself. I sat down and rubbed Their goo with my hands. I swear as I held a pool of it in my pal close to the flames, I could see thousands of tiny baby minnows wiggling around. I used a finger to coat it well and buggered my own back-end hole with it. Why? It felt like it's something They wanted me to do. My Gods were watching me. I needed to sit now. I settled down into a puddle of Their living liquid. The fire was keeping it comfortably warm. I opened the rucksack and dug out the mason jar full of moonshine and drank some lethal gulps. It further warmed me. They were still around me. I knew somehow They wanted to protect me as I slept. Maybe They'd watch the fire in case it spread out of control. I s'pose it was possible They didn't want me wash off Their fertile gift in the creek. I wouldn't dare. I let the fire dry it to a crust as I slowly drank myself to a dreamless slumber. I woke to the sound of thunder. It usually rained much later in the morning. I felt the first drop fall. My clothes were but shreds now. I'd walk home and just tell Mama the others had pranked me. What I hated most was that the rain was starting to wash Their seed off of me. it was becoming lumpy paste as it slid off. I took shelter in an old, rotting barn to wait out the heaviest of the downpour. One of my wounds was still somewhat opened. But the rest had scabbed over nicely with no sign of infection. It occurred to me that I could heal myself -- but what of the virus within me? I'd welcome it and its devastation. None of my Gods last night seemed ill. The rain was lighter now. I finished the moonshine as the sun came up. Mama always said that when the sun shone while it rained - the devil's daughter was getting married. Such nonsense. All of my gift from the Giants had washed away and I was soaking wet by the time I made it home. I hurried inside and the house was quiet as a tomb. I cracked Mama's door a bit and saw that she was sleeping soundly. Her breathing was much better and I knew she's be up soon. I got dressed in all new clothes Mama had made for me and put on my old pair of shoes. No sooner did I go to the kitchen to start a fire in the stove than Mama walked in with her dressing gown on. "When did you get back, Son?" "Just now. I changed to go run the shop for you." "It's Sunday, Joseph. The Lord's day. Where's your new shoes?" "I was pranked by the boys and Luke hid them somewhere. I was going to go look for them after tending the garden." "You do the gardening now while I make us some breakfast. The shoes can wait." I couldn't believe how many ripe tomatoes were ready to be picked. I filled my arms with ten of them and went back inside. "Look, Mama!" "Lord be! It's an early harvest! Let me chop a few and we'll have them with eggs and sausage. Also toast if you want." "I'm not too hungry right now." "But you always love breakfast. Let me touch your forehead. Oh no! You've got a fever! You took in too much night air and got caught in the cold rain. It's just a little sickening is all. I'll brew tea." I left her to busy with the kettle and fled the house. I knew I could be dying. I was a smaller, weaker man than They were. Perhaps I was being claimed for the same eternity They shared. I stopped to spill what little was in my stomach. My fever was climbing still higher. I would not have much time before weakness would take my legs from beneath me. I'd be well soon. They would heal me -- unless I had the same sickness they had. But perhaps because I was a mere mortal, I could be healed. Perhaps I would become one of Them. I sat on the creek bank. The rains had made the water level rise. It sparkled and begged to be tasted. My fever was spiking. I called to Them, prayed to Them. I lay back on the soft mud and closed my eyes. I felt Them coming before hearing the trees breaking. They were in a hurry. My salvation had arrived. Amen. END

Thanks! Yeah - it really does end there. In my head, Danny and his Gifter stay together and he does ultimately test positive. The story gets published and Danny gets offers from other publications, but he stays in the city to be with Salvador. I wanted to move on to other ideas which are bugging me to get told.

Note from Toon: One of my first reprimands on BZ was because I posted a bug-chasing story that contained some chem references. It was me not knowing the rules and it was also lazy writing. I didn't think the story through ahead of time, and added the "and then he drugged me" part just to get to the ending. I never forgot the original idea for the story and I hope I've matured enough as a member and as a storyteller to finally get it right. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION PART ONE 1999 - some city in the Midwest Hi. I'm Danny. I tried to go by 'Dan' for the longest time, but I guess I must just look like a Danny because nobody could ever call me anything else. Another thing about me is I'm gay. I used to blame Mr. Rogers because he was the one who said he liked me just how I was. So I always thought it was okay that I'd rather be a girl than a boy. I had two much older sisters and used to envy their lives. The clothes, the makeup, the way they laughed with their friends and the boys...THE BOYS! who showed up at our door every other night. They shared a room and I was never supposed to go in there, but I always did because I loved looking at all their perfect stuff. I once tried on a tiny little bit of their perfume and got nailed for it (I maybe put on more than a 'tiny' bit) I got in trouble so bad and also spanked -- just for being who I was. Mr Rogers would never ever spank me. So I stayed in the closet, trying to never want to be a girl ever again. I stayed very much pretending to be boy until my college years when I finally just admitted the gay part of me was real and wouldn't go away. Another thing about me is that I'm either dumb or just have dumb luck. Possibly both. I chose journalism as a major and entered the workforce just as every newspaper in the country had cut its staff to the bone. Cable news and the fucking internet was killing my opportunities. The big local paper didn't even have any openings in the mail room. I finally landed a crummy position as a copy & paste guy for one of the town's free alternative weeklies. You know the type -- lots of 'scene news', concerts, local bands and city hall corruption. Luckily it was liberal and anarchist in tone. The staff was a bunch of people not much older than me and at least four of them were openly gay. I adapted right away and got along with the editor/owner (Ed) really well. It didn't pay much but my parents and the one sister who still liked me helped me stay afloat those first few months. I lived in a very shitty apartment - but so did everybody I worked with. Except Ed. We brought in tons of ad revenue because it was free and everybody read it. We made a shit-load of money from the personal ads which catered to every sexual appetite. I remember having lunch with Ed once and we talked about everything. "I wish I was gay -- there are so many guys looking to hook up with no strings attached." Ed was an idiot sometimes. "It's not all that great. Be glad with the hand you were dealt. I was thinking of placing an ad myself, strings optional." "Don't. No offense, Danny, but you are so young and would be easy prey for all the weirdos out there. Why don't you and Lance meet up for a drink sometime?" "He lives in my building - that would be too weird. You know I'm a journalism grad, right?" "Look - I've tried to explain it to you already. You're too new here and don't know 'the scene' yet. You don't know the clubs, the local bands, the art galleries...all that." "What about features? I could pitch you some ideas, some spec pieces." "OK. Let's meet next week and you pitch me some ideas that will knock my socks off." "Deal." "Well, it's Friday. I guess you'll be leaving early - especially since it's Halloween. I'd be surprised if half the office is still there when we go back. You kids." He was right. I suppose they could all claim they were 'chasing a lead' or some shit like that. Lucky bastards. Thank God Lance was gone too. I didn't need Ed trying to initiate something between he and I. I was once alone with him and he asked if I dyed my hair and wore colored contacts. He said he asked because he'd never seen such a perfect Aryan specimen before. What do you say to that? 'Thank you'?? I got my blonde hair and blue eyes from my mom who is mostly Irish. Fuck him anyway. I stayed at work because I had no real big plans even though I'd always loved Halloween. My only weekend plans were to get stoned and listen to some new CD's. Same as old. The only person left by 5:00 was this friendly fat girl named Lana who claimed she was named after Lana Turner. I had to swallow my laughter but most other people couldn't. She was a notorious flirt and I couldn't be stuck with just her for another fifteen minutes. I took off. Ed was right. I hadn't really bothered to explore the city. I'd start now. Right now. There was this ratty little bar I passed on the way home every day. I'll stop. There might not be a story there, but there were surely some characters there. It would be a start. There was plenty of parking because it was so early. I got carded the second I got in the door. The doorman was at least nice about it. There'd soon come a time when I'd never be asked for I.D. again because we all age -- if we're lucky. "You're lucky, kiddo...at six we start charging a dollar cover to anybody not in a costume tonight. "I'm going as Tab Hunter." "What's that?" I laughed and handed him a dollar anyway. He might be a good source some day. You never know. I didn't even know what the name of this place was but there was a rainbow flag on the wall behind the bar. OK. My first gay bar. The bartender was a bald guy who smiled but looked at me like I was lost. "Happy Halloween. young man. Where's your costume?" I wasn't going to try the Tab Hunter joke again. "Not my thing. Where's yours?" "I'm going as Earl, a grumpy old bastard whose back and feet hurt like hell." "Well done. I'll take a Bud draw." It was well past happy hour before the crowd started getting larger. I'd nursed my beers slowly because there's no way I could afford a DUI. And then I saw the first one. The patrons here were mostly skinny, unwashed guys not much older than me. The one who sat next to me had a cotton pad and surgical tape wrapped around his inner arm. Drugs? Drugs weren't a new story. Maybe he was injured somehow. The wound dressing looked hospital fresh, very professional. "Were you hurt? What happened?" "Buy me a shot of jack and I'll tell you." I ordered one for him and one for me. What the hell, right? I'd never tried whiskey before. I downed it and turned the glass upside down - just like he did. "So what happened?" "Some guy paid me fifty bucks to cut me. It's his thing I guess. Hardly hurt at all." Oh, there was a story here. "What does he do with the blood? Or does he just get off cutting?" I'd never heard of such a thing. "Every piece of information is gonna cost you another shot." Well, there was an ATM on one end of the bar. It might be worth it. "Hold on - I'll be right back." I went to the bathroom as fast as I could and then took out 50 bucks from the machine. On my way back, I saw another grungy guy with another big bandage on his arm - in a different spot, closer to his wrist. I stumbled onto something. For sure. I sat next to the same guy and asked him if he knew the other wounded customer. He pointed to his empty glass. "Two more shots, Earl." "Yeah. I know him. You could say we work together. He goes to see the same freak I do, gives a little blood." "But you don't know why or what he does with the blood?" "Look, man. I really can't tell you much else. But you can suck my dick for twenty bucks. Check it out." He pulled out a greasy penis that I wouldn't touch with Rubbermaid gloves on ." WHAP! Earl slapped the dumb kid on the side of the head so loud it caught the whole bar's attention. "I've already warned you about that shit, Randy. Now get the hell out of here!!" The doorman was right there immediately to escort the dude away. Earl looked at me. "Sorry to disturb you, young man. I put up with a lot here, but hustlers get in my fuckin' nerves. This place is a little too close to the bus station. That's the problem." "I was asking him about the cut on his arm. Some freaky guy pays to cut him to bleed." "Yeah. I see 'em here all the time. Fucker probably uses the same knife to do it. Why do you care? You some kind of humanitarian or somethin'? A liberal" "I'm a reporter. He really wasn't good for too much information. Do you know anything about it." "I know some of it. If I tell you anything BUT, you can't ever use my name or the name of this pub." "What IS the name of this place? You don't even have a sign out front," "Well, it used to be called Ernie's Place, but Ernie passed on and left it to his son. He agreed to keep the place open but not with the same name because he's an Ernie Jr. and some kind of asshole, We ain't decided on a new name yet." "OK. For a really nice tip, tell me what you know about the guy who cuts these kids." Earl poured us some tall glasses that were half filled with jack and ice and then coke added on top. I left him a twenty. "Well, I hear a lot. I may wear a hearing aid, but it's an expensive one and I catch a lot more than these jerks think I do. This weirdo is some rich artist who lives in one one of those big expensive lofts they built not far from here. He prefers the blood of young, drugged up hustlers. I guess he doesn't suck their dicks or do anything sexual with them - just collects their blood...and then mixes it with paint for his fuckin' art!" "You're shittin' me." "No. Ain't this some kind of shit world Clinton left us?" "How can I find this artist?" "That I don't know. But I think Jerry knows. The bouncer. He's pretty busy right now, but he'll be able to tell you more when it slows down. This ain't exactly gonna be the hot spot on a night like this. We got a pool table and a couple of pinball games over there. They're all working tonight -- which is a big fuckin' miracle in my book." I got a few bucks worth of quarters and left him another five buck tip. I guess I could eat sandwiches from home for lunch all next month. I had honed my pinball skills in the college dorm I lived in for two years. Everybody else was getting laid and going to keg parties while I just played whatever game they had in the student lounge. I could basically make two bucks in quarters last all night if I had to, I was familiar with both games and was in the process of tallying up high scores when one of the bandage guys approached to ask if he could play me. "Sure." I'd already won a bunch of free games, so what the hell? He wasn't very good as I took stock of him. He looked a little unwashed, but not too bad. Almost cute. "You won. His name is Salvador. I can't tell you how to find him. That would be putting me in danger -- which I don't need any more of. Let's just say he's close to here." Just then Earl came by with a fresh pitcher of beer for me. "Don't waste your time, Greg -- he ain't buyin' and you sure as hell ain't sellin' in here. Move along." "I'm gone. Gotta get back to work anyway." "You do that." We watched him walk out the door. "Listen, kid... I know you're tryin' to be Brenda Starr or whatever, but nothin' good can come from talking to them types. It's starting to slow down a little. Come on back to the bar and wait for Jerry." I had like five bucks worth of free games left and it was only midnight. "Leave the games - I won't charge you for the beer. AND give you a shot of whatever." Well, OK then. It really had emptied out a lot. I guess this was another one of those 'starting-off bars' - you come here first for a cheap buzz and then move on to bigger and better clubs. That or they were locals just looking to drown their sorrows. Earl laid down a shot of something red. "It's a Hot Damn. Most popular shot we sell." It was like swallowing a mixture of Big Red gum and Draino. I tried my best not to make a face. "I think I've hit my limit, Earl. I haven't even eaten any dinner today." "It's OK. One more shot and you'll get your second wind, How far away do you live? Suburbs?" "It's only about five blocks from here, but my car..." "Jerry has a sticker he'll put on your windshield. I can even have Jose walk you home if you don't feel safe. Big Mexican kid who stocks the cooler and cleans up. He'll be here by 2. Here- have some pretzels." I dug into them with the gusto of a starving man. "You sure you don't know anything else about this guy who cuts up hustlers?" "Oh - I was gonna tell you one thing I overheard once. This freak lives in one of them lofts over on Grant. You know -- it used to be a factory or something but they made these giant apartments on each floor. Imagine paying over a thousand bucks each month to live in one big room?" "You don't know which one?" "No. But it's a good location to find all the hustlers around here. Here's my thinking -- you should just let this go. Anybody with money like that can probably have you killed." It was pretty weird alright. Maybe it wasn't worth it just to get a slightly better paying job at a free alternative paper. But still -- there was something about it that captivated me, possibly turned me on. Maybe all this time in the closet had warped me beyond repair. Somewhere Mr. Rogers was shaking head in disappointment. Was he even still alive? No idea. Jerry joined us. He was the typical ex-con-looking muscle dude you always see manning the door at dive bars. Tattoos, shaved head and various scars. "Hey Jerry - the kid here has been maybe over-served a little and his car is still in the lot. Can you go put the yellow sticker on it so he can leave it overnight?" "No problem." He was a friendly sort of thug. "But I need a drink. I'm parched." I bought us all pitchers of beer which Earl gave me a great discount on. "So - Earl tells me you might know something about that guy, that artist guy who pays hustlers to give blood." "Goddamn Earl! All I know he came in here once. I guess he was "shopping". He looked like pure evil, man. A tall dude dressed in black with an energy that was black as well. Not young, not old...hard to tell his exact age. He seemed sick to me...in every way. The thing I remember most is the neatly trimmed beard and mustache that looked like the devil himself . He left with some piece of trash and never came back. Why the hell are you so interested?" "I'm a reporter -- well, I'm trying to be one. My boss wants me to find a really good story. I think this might be it." It was pretty much just the three of us left. Some stragglers who had clearly partied all night would peek in, look around and stumble back away out into the night. "You two need to look prettier", Earl joked. "Fuckin' Hell -- Jose is here early. He knows I let him drink free before he starts work, but I guess he wants a little more...fat bastard. The door opened and in walked a large Hispanic male who was nearly as wide as he was tall. He kept his eyes to the floor as he walked toward us. Very shy. I recognized that mannerism in myself at times. Eye contact could be a problem for me too. He sat on the other empty stool next to me. A big silent lump. "Now we got us a party!" I was drunk. "C'mon guys - it's Halloween !" Earl looked at me and shook his head. "Why don't you go show Jerry where your car is and he can sticker it. Do it now before you forget what it looks like." Jerry helped me up and we went out the front door. I thought I was walking just fine but He kept one arm around my shoulders as we walked to the lot. Mine was an 88 Subaru, piece of shit that nobody would steal. I didn't know it at the time, but I'd parked right under a bright security light. It looked like last prize on the worst game show of all time. Jerry slapped a little round, neon yellow sticker on the driver's side window. "Hold on, Danny Boy. I got something for you. Don't look at it now.."He shoved it brazenly down into my right front pocket. "Some underage punk had gave it to me accidentally when I asked for id. It's the freak's business card. It's all gobbledy-gook, but you're a reporter. Don't try to figure it out tonight. Look - also promise me you won't go see him alone. Take somebody with you. Take me with you. I can kick anybody's ass. Promise me you won't go alone." "Yes." That wasn't really an answer, I guess. And then I kissed him. I just felt like it. "Whoa. I swing that way sometimes. but you're pretty out of it. Don't try making out with Jose when he walks you home." He laughed like I'd never consider it but I probably would. Earl was unplugging the games when we got back. It was barely even 1. I guess he wasn't expecting much business tonight. I was technically the only customer left. "Hey Earl! Three more Hot Damns!" "Already waiting for you and the guys along with the drinks you already ordered. But then you gotta scram. Deal?" "Yes." I went to the ATM one more time so I could pay and leave a really nice tip. I sat down in my spot between the two big guys and all was right with the world. I understood why people became alcoholics--because it's so much fun. "Jose was a real gentleman -- he wouldn't touch his free booze until you two got back." Earl gave a quick look at Jerry, wondering. I was freely talking about nonsense and they were all nice enough to listen. And then I got double vision and knew I needed to go home. You pay the price for fun. Earl looked at me. "Want me to call you a cab, kid?" I tried to focus. 'No, no -- that would just keep you here longer. It's only five blocks. I can do it." I put all the money I had left on the bar and stood up. Yeah - I could do this. I wasn't that far gone. "Go with him, Jose. Get him home and then get your fat ass back here. Fast." The night air was nice, just chilly enough to wake me up. Jose made me walk slow and kept a hand on my back. "Why do you let him talk to you like that, Jose? Call you names and shit?" I felt him shrug. "I'm fat. I've known that my whole life. I can't get too mad at somebody telling the truth." "It's rude. I think you're handsome." "Because you're polite -- a drunk, polite idiot. I heard about you trying to find that cutter guy. That's stupid." "Yeah. I just want to be a reporter, Maybe too much." "There are other stories in this shit town. I got two brothers in prison and one in the ground, Gang shit." "Man, I'm sorry." "I buried my anger and sadness with food. That's what I do." I had nothing to say -- so I just stopped and hugged him. He hugged back. We were standing next to a little park. There was a trash can with a fire in it. A cowardly little bit of Halloween vandalism. "Let's go in here for a minute." "You gotta hurl?" I just walked a little ways past the fire and Jose followed. He seemed concerned. I just held him again and gave him a huge kiss on his perfect lips. He liked it so much that he wrapped me in his arms and squeezed the life out of me. It was the kiss that never ended. Then he stopped and looked at me. The fire flames made him look like a movie star. He really was handsome under all that grief and blubber. I unzipped his jeans and took his fat, stubby little dick out. It was rock hard. I just got down on my knees and sucked it passionately. He kneaded the back of my head and humped my face. In less than a minute he shot a big load in my mouth. It didn't taste like anything. I guess the booze had killed my taste buds. I fell when I tried to stand back up. He caught me by the arm and helped me stand. "Wow. I wasn't expecting that, Dan." "Neither was I." He zipped himself up. "It's not just because you're drunk, is it?" I had to answer him honestly. "I might not have been so bold if I was sober, but I would have still wanted to. I've never done that. Ever. I had my first kiss already -- with Jerry. This was another first." "So when you wake up tomorrow, you won't regret this?" "I'm sure I'll regret drinking so much, but not this part." "Good. Because it was my first time too. I'd like to see you again. Think you'd ...that we could date maybe?" I took his hand. "Yes, Jose. I'd like that." I really meant it. He was still breathing heavily after his orgasm. "Can I have your number?" "I don't have a pen. Do you?" "No. Can you come back to the bar tomorrow -- around 11?" "Sure. I promise I'll just drink Cokes" We walked hand in hand all the way to my building. "Wait. You live here?" "Yeah." "My sister Mara lives here too! She's on the third floor." "I'm on the eighth, #801." "Cool. How 'bout I drop by and pick you up for a late lunch. Around 2?" "Perfect." I watched him walk away and missed him already. Once I got back inside my apartment, I raced to the bathroom and started puking before I could even lift the toilet seat. It was red and smelled like Hot Damn. And it just kept coming. I was so tired and yet there's no way I could make it out of this bathroom. After I was sure I had nothing left to get rid of, my stomach decided to just heave all the nothing. I'd never do this again. I finally just slept right there on the floor, shoes and all my clothes on. Never again. NEVER! I swore. I actually didn't feel all that terrible when I woke up -- just thirsty. I kept Gatorade on hand always, not because I exercised or anything. I just liked the taste. I knew it was good for hangovers because of a roommate I had in college who was a major party animal. I sat on my little kitchen stool and drank a full bottle. I thought of the previous night. Of Jose. Of the bandaged kids. Of the bar with no name. Jerry. Hot Damn. (shudder) Oh wait! That card in my jeans. I retrieved it and looked at it as I helped myself to another Gatorade. It was glossy black with red typography. It said "Larva Sod" which was an obvious anagram for 'Salvador' - but the phone number looked too weird, not local. I needed to eat something. I ate a dry bowl of Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch and followed it up with a hot cup of instant coffee. I took a long shower and put on some boxers. I looked at the card again. Not a local number...except if you looked at it backwards. Then it started with this city's area code, followed by the same prefix as mine and then it became a local number. Pretty lazy and easy if he was trying to be all mysterious. I'd have more cereal and another cup of coffee. It wasn't even noon yet. November 1st. I dialed the number. A few rings later, a woman answered "Gallery. This is Valerie..." I swear it was Julie Andrews herself. "Yes. Hello. (I needed to sound like a rich guy) I'm an art collector and I'd like to see Salvador's work." "It's by appointment only and I'm afraid the earliest I can get you in Wednesday at 3 PM." "I see. That would work on my end. I'll Be there, Can I have the address please? Ring the buzzer at the door of 311 Westbury . It's in the old garment district. And your name? " "Daniel Sherwood." That sounded like a rich man's name, to me it did. "See you next week, Mr. Sherwood. Have a most pleasant day." CLICK I scribbled the address down on a post-it. OK. I would pitch the idea to ED as soon as he had a spare minute. I was excited, not scared at all. I'd go alone too. I'd just never mention it to the guys at Nameless Bar. Speaking of which -- there were still three hours to kill before Jose got here. Wait - did he say 1 or 2? I'd be ready by 1 just in case I got dressed and went to the grocery store. I'd use a credit card I kept for emergencies. I'd call home tomorrow and make up some reason I needed a little extra this month. I bought some basics along with two six-packs of Corona...it seemed like Jose would like it. We had our late lunch at Applebee's because that was his favorite place. He was a little sweaty and unkempt because he did yard work during the day. Leaf blowing, raking, mulching. He made a comment or two about how he couldn't believe I still remembered everything from last night and still wanted to be with him. "You didn't eat much, Dan. Are you nervous?" "Maybe. I've never been on a date before." "Me either. I'm a virgin -- but I want to have sex with you." "I want that too, Jose. Neither of us will know what's what, but we can figure it out together." We had sex. I'd never bothered to buy condoms or lube because I hadn't seen this day coming anytime soon. His size made it awkward and clumsy. It felt like one of those giant rubber bounce houses was on top of me. It only hurt a little and he came fast. It was not memorable sex, but I have to say that I'm glad it happened for both of us,My futon really got a workout -- I couldn't wait to get a bigger place and have an actual bed. He was breathing heavily. "Did you like it?" "Yes, Jose. It was perfect. Thank you." "Mind if I take a nap right here. And hold you? You could probably use some rest too." Oh yes. His cum was inside me and it made me feel complete somehow. I loved the heat from his body, his smell, his calloused feet on my leg. I drifted off, dreaming of blood. Not a nightmare. I went back to No Name Bar on Saturday. It was later than I'd meant to go. Jose kept me busy for hours. He loved blow jobs more than anything else. I found out I had a thing for armpits and sweat. It was all so new for both of us. "Well hello again, Danny Boy! You sure kept Jose out late this morning. You didn't? With that fat piece of shit? "Be nice to him -- he's gone through shit you can't imagine. No. Nothing happened. I just had to puke a couple of times. He waited." He looked taken aback. Hurt. I wish I'd never kissed him. "Sorry, man. It's pretty crowded tonight. There are three of them cut scumbags here already. Remember you promised not to go to that guy without me?" "Yeah. I couldn't make sense of the shit on that business card. The number doesn't work. Weird." Earl was tending bar again and almost in a good mood. I guess everybody's glad to see a good tipper. I'd walked here wearing a windbreaker. "Well -- you're looking better than I thought you would. Oh - and I know you and that fat piece of shit did something last night." "Stop calling him that. I mean it. All he did was wait while I puked my guts out in that little park,,,and again when I had to puke again three minutes later. " "Yeah -- I know that big smile he couldn't get off his face for an hour. Watching some kid vomit always cheers me right up." He gave me a rum and coke on the house. Making amends, I guess. "I'm sorry. I'll be nicer to him -- he's actually a decent guy." "Thanks. I like him a lot. Just give him a break with all the fat jokes." "I'm not one to judge. I'm 68 fuckin' years old and married to a woman with a face like a boot. I love her though." "Hopefully I can meet her some day." He smiled and nodded. "Jerry tells me there's some of those cut kids here again tonight. I'm not going to let this story go, Earl." "I knew that too. Well -- one of them is actually pretty normal. Never had no problems with him. Seems decent and pretty together. He's looking to play pool with somebody. Name's Benny. Short guy red hair. See him?" Yeah -- I suck at pool but give me two bucks in quarters." I walked right up to this guy who had to be around my age - maybe younger. "Benny? Hi. I'm Dan. You up for a game?" He gave off a good vibe. "Well yes! You're the reporter, right?" Goddamn Earl. "Hardly. I want to be one. But now I just do paste-up for 'Urban Rag'. I'm so intrigued by this Salvador guy. Let's play." I put in fifty cents into the slot thingy. "You rack 'em (I had no idea how to) and picked out a cue stick that looked straight. I chalked the tip like I even knew what that was supposed to do. "You break." What? I was so clueless when it came to this game. So I gave it a try -- and actually pocketed two striped balls with that first shot. I kept making lucky shot after lucky shot. Miracle! He ultimately beat me, but I hadn't embarrassed myself. "Good game." I hadn't said that since little league baseball when I was 10. Now THAT I really sucked at. "Let's take a break. I need to tell you something." "Sure. Let me go get us some drinks." "Nah. I'll just share your pitcher- if that's OK." "You sure? You won. I should buy you you a fresh drink." "NO. Just sit while I talk." He looked serious. "Let this go, Danny. If you're intrigued with Salvador already -- you''ll be a goner when you meet him. He casts a spell. He is a powerful presence." "Have you given him blood?" "Not anymore. I work the escort game now and pays just to fuck me. I have AIDS now. I can't prove it was him who gave it to me -- but I just know it was." "I have an appointment to view his gallery on Wednesday." "DON'T GO! I mean it. Chase another story. I'll let you interview me --I can talk about the sex trade. How I was molested by my stepfather when I was nine and for seven years after that when I poisoned him with antifreeze in his scotch." "Wow. I'm sorry, Benny. I may take you up on that. Let me write my number down and give it to you. Call anytime. I don't have a cell phone yet, but I'd like to talk with you." I made sure I had a pen and mini notebook in my back packet. I gave me my number and he gave his. Just then Jose walked in -- a full hour before he was supposed to. "Cool. I gotta go work now." He got up to leave and shook my hand. I wanted to hug him but Jose was glaring at me like I was already committing some kind of crime. Jealous. Shit! "My fella is here." Benny left. Jose walked over and seemed ready to explode -- "Having fun? Do you have something going with that motherfucker?" "No! It's not like that. He knows more about that freak artist who paints with blood. I was just working on a possible story. He's a hustler with HIV." "I told you to drop that shit! I swear -- I love you, but I'll kill you before I let you pursue this any further." He stuck out his chin. "Or I could have you killed. It's not like I don't know people." "Relax, Jose. I'd never do anything to mess up what we have." I acted insulted. Pouted. "Sorry. Kiss me now -- in front of everybody." I did. He worked a tongue into my mouth and there were some jeers and hoots from the crowd. It was so wonderful to have his massive body next to mine. He calmed down. Pacified. "Don't get crazy on me, Jose." "I'm sorry. I just...I can't lose the one good thing in my life. The best thing. I'm Latin -- you gotta understand we are passionate." "Gotcha. Let's go sit at the bar. Give Earl a hard time.." When we got there, Earl was smiling and shaking his head. "I knew it. It's not even 10:30 and Jose is already here. You guys hooked up. That sure as fuck came out of left field!" "Get me a Bud and refill his pitcher. NO Hot Damns." "Fine. If you guys are going to do anything tonight, make sure This...make sure Jose is back by 2." He kept shaking his head. "I just don't get it." We drank fast - and got the hell out of there. I left Earl a ten dollar bill and practically drug Jose out the door. I would always love holding his big, chubby hand. I tried to peel off the sticker from my window but only got about half of it off. Fuck it. We got in and peeled out. "Wait. Stop here. Pull into this drive." It was the park again. "You sure? We're almost back to my place." "This is our spot. Will you suck me again?" Well, duh. Of course I would. He had already pulled it out - that fat little mushroom was as perfect as I remember. He was hard and oozing already. I dove for it and we repeated the scene from less than 24 hours ago. Only this time he was more urgent and I actually tasted the semen this time. Salty and organic. And a little sweet. Perfect in a way I could never really explain with words. He was breathing so heavily again. "Let's go chill at my place for awhile. We can watch TV and drink some Coronas. Sound good?" "Sounds wonderful, Dan." We walked in and he made himself right at home. My poor futon creaked under his weight. It wouldn't last much longer if we stayed together. Fuck it -- maybe I'd suggest having sex on the floor. I was about to turn on the TV when Jose interrupted me... "No. Play some of your music for me. I can a learn a lot about you from hearing your stuff." I fetched us two beers while thinking long and hard about what I'd play. He'd already taken off his shoes when I returned. I liked that he felt comfortable enough to do that. "I'll play you the first CD I ever bought. This chick from Sound Warehouse just sensed I'd dig it. The group is called Frazier Chorus -- it's the only one they ever released -- as far I know. It'd called 'Cloud Eight'. I used to listen to this after getting completely baked with the headphones on." "It's perfect. How old were you?" "22... Why?" "I love this music. I brought the weed this time. There's hash oil in it...so we'll take it slow." He pulled out a little baggie of weed and I loaded the bowl of my bong. And we smoked and kissed. The music sounded better and better. I was rubbing his socked feet and then we were kissing again. I could feel his heart beat against mine. We were in synch. Yep -- this was love. I mean, it had to be love, right? I just couldn't get enough of his body heat. "I want you to fuck me this time." Well - it was worth a shot. I was not exactly hung, but my dick was bigger than his. I grabbed this Vaseline moisturizing lotion I'd put on sunburns before. I always burned with the least little bit of Summer sun. Jose had already positioned himself on the floor. "I figured it would be easier this way." He'd stripped down to just his socks and so did I. His ass was huge. My first move was to get down behind him, pull apart those giant cheeks and plant my tongue in his pink hole. It smelled and tasted like a pond down there...but I was into it, as was he. He kept arching his back and moaned as I let my tongue wander as far as it could go stretch. I stopped liking it after a few minutes and rubbed lotion on my boner and a generous amount on his hole. It was as hot as a blast furnace inside of him. "Go slow, Dan." Oh, I would....mainly because I had no idea what I was doing. It felt good in there, even though he made a few grunts of pain. I went easier and slower. He said something in Spanish between gasps. I guess he was liking it. I was enjoying it to, but so many things told me if I came in him, we'd have completed a connection that could never really sever it. He came right there on my carpet -- and I just pretended to. We pulled apart and just lie together and breathed heavily with smiles on our faces. "Well, I guess we've popped each other's cherries." He seemed deliriously happy about that. "Yeah." Neither of us could know had no how badly I'd betray him within the next seven days. PART TWO On Monday morning. I cornered Ed and told him I wanted to meet with him sometime that day. He agreed we'd have a lunch meeting because his day was mostly packed. "I'll order us a couple of subs from that place across the street," I'd written everything I had down on a legal pad. He wanted his socks knocked off? We'd see. We sat in his office and ate our sandwiches, talked a little football until I pulled out my legal pad. "Oh boy -- here it comes. Don't tell me you tracked down some stories over the weekend." "I did. Three different stories, and I'll save the best for last." He finished the rest of his Italian sub in two bites. "OK. Shoot." "First - there's a gay bar in down that was named after the owner, but he died and left it to his son who was a Junior and doesn't want his name on the place. He's greedy enough to scrape whatever profits even those he's some kind of uptight Christian. So it's currently unnamed. Maybe we could have a contest or something. I mean, that could be fun." He didn't seem that impressed. "Maybe if it was a strip club, it could go somewhere. We'll sit on that one for awhile." "It attracts a lot of young gay hustlers. I could do a piece on their lives - get a look inside the sex trade." "Hmmm. We've done something about that before - but that was back when crack was the worst drug out there. Now there's so many different drugs, worse drugs. Let me think on that one for a bit. Would you be willing to go undercover as a hustler?" "Maybe. That sounds like it could be dangerous though." "Yeah -- but it's something to consider. Some day." "OK. This next idea is for a human interest piece. I met a guy, Hispanic guy who's lost two brothers to the prison system because of gang activity -- and another one was killed. Anyway, this guy is morbidly obese because he consumes food before grief can consume him," "Yeah! Now that's good! Do you think we could get him to agree to be photographed?" "Probably. I can ask him." "Even if it's just a shot from the back standing at his brother's grave. How fat is he?" "About your height, at least 330 pounds, maybe more." "Is he a friend you just met?" "Yeah -- so much of what I found is connected to my neighborhood. I just stopped at the bar with no name and the stories found me." "See? I told you to just get out and explore the city." "One more -- there's an artist on town who paints with blood. Human blood that's not his own. He pays street hustlers, homeless kids to 'donate'. I've talked to a few of them bit they're too scared to give me too many details. BUT - I got hold of one his business cards that I had to decode because he's just so, so mysterious, I guess. Anyway - I've got a 3 PM appointment to see his gallery on Wednesday. I'll need that afternoon off." "YES! THAT'S IT! Hell, Danny -- take the whole day off - with pay - turn something good in and I'll put you on the writing staff immediately." I beamed. "Think you can get some photos?" "Not right away. I'm posing as a rich trust fund kid who collects art." Ed suddenly looked doubtful. "Do you have the wardrobe to pull that off?" "I've got the clothes I wore to my graduation -- they might not be stylish now. No idea." "Here's a company credit card. Take Lance with you and go pick some stuff a rich kid would wear. This is too good a lead for you to blow it by wearing cheap clothes. I'll give you both the afternoon off. Let me talk to him first. Keep all receipts." Wow. I sorta all the sudden had a expense account. Things were looking up. Well Lance and I drove over to Damien's in the suburbs. "Thing is -- you have to wear these clothes casually because you live a life of leisure. If you're wearing two hundred leather loafers and just act as if you were wearing flip-flops from Wal-Mart. Everything should be loose and look expensive. You need to act like you don't care." 200 dollar shoes? "Think I can pull this off?" "You look the part. You're handsome and speak very well. I won't ask why you're posing because Ed told me not to pry. Hold your nose up a little and try to look down on whoever you're talking to." There's a type who sees dollar signs when they see that. " We racked up almost 900 dollars worth of stuff -- including some hair products and ridiculously expensive cologne. I had begun to feel rich as I carried the shopping bags out to the parking lot. "Well, Lance -- we've got the rest of the day off. Want to grab a drink somewhere?" "Sure. Where?" "You'll like it. It's the bar with no name and it's where I found some great characters -- including a boyfriend." "Wow. Let's go. I haven't been laid in two weeks."Two Weeks? Try 22 years. "Wait -- this place? It's a pit. Don't hustlers and drug addicts come here? No thanks." "What do you want, Lance? A fancy martini or some interesting local people?" He had to admit I had him there. It was business as usual when we walked in. A few old regulars and dirty street kids. No Jerry, but Earl was tending bar. God, did he ever go home? "Well...what have we here? You move on from Jose already?" He was smirking. "Earl - this is Lance. We work together. He's a real reporter." "So I could call Jose and tell him you're here?" "Sure. Go ahead. I want Lance to meet him anyway." Earl arched an eyebrow and made us our drinks. Lance leaned closer -- whispered, "A Mexican? Is he part of the story?" "Not really. We're dating. Earl doesn't know me that well yet, He hardly trusts anybody." There were hustlers here, but none of them were wearing bandages. They left us alone. "So you're into Latins? Is that why you never asked me out?" "What? No. We work together and live in the same building -- that could be a disaster," "Yeah. Maybe. I tend to just go for it and not worry about consequences." "That's kind of my attitude going into this story." "I'm intrigued." "Found the seeds of it right here." Earl came over and asked if we needed a refill. "And hey, Mr. Reporter -- I got a fake shoulder courtesy of North Vietnam. Hold on -- I just two of them punks go into the women's room together." That was against the rules...big time. Lance was plum amazed. "You were right about this place, Danny." "Told ya." "But we should really get back and get those clothes out of the bags so they won't smell so new," "Good idea. Should I hang them up or leave them just laying around like I don't care?" "Wear them to bed tonight, sleep in them and then take them off in the morning and hang them up. Do you smoke?" "Just a little weed sometimes." "Really? Can I come smoke some with you?" "Sure." I wasn't the least bit attracted to him and, plus, I think I was in love with my big ol' Jose. I was pretty sure. Almost 100% sure. We got back to my place and he admired what I had done with the tiny studio apartment. He probably had a bigger layout than this. I'd upgrade if I got the reporter job. I put in a tape I'd recorded the movie Blue Velvet on. I loved watching David Lynch films when I was stoned. "Go put on the new duds on -- including the socks and shoes. I promise I won't peek." I went to the bathroom and put everything on. The shoes were a little uncomfortable. I'd told him I was somewhere in the 10 to 11 range. Should have gotten the 11's. When I returned, Lance had to marvel at his own great taste. He was smoking a cigarette. "Got an ashtray?" "Hold on..." I went to the kitchen and fished out an empty Coke can from the trash. "This will have to do." "So ghetto - love it!" We smoked a bowl or two as we watched this fucked -up movie. He seemed to be moving too close and I just didn't trust my capacity for lust anymore. "You're pretty cool, Lance. But I'm seeing somebody. "Yeah - I know. I just get super horny when I'm baked. It's cool." "Thanks for helping me out today." He left me about five of his cigarettes. "All rich kids smoke." Made sense. And then he was gone. I sat there and smoked one of them and watched the rest of the movie. I heard a rustle outside my door. When I opened it, there was Jose taping a note to my door. "Oh. You're home! And look at those clothes!Wow." "Yeah. I had a job interview today." I hated having to lie to this totally honest man, but it wouldn't be the last time.. "Cool. I was babysitting for Mara while she ran errands and I...here." Hr handed me the note. It was a crudely-drawn heart with 'Jose and Dan Forever' written inside. I'd keep that forever. "Have you been smoking in here?" "Yeah -- it's a habit I picked back up again recently." He pulled out a pack of Merits out of his pocket. "I smoke too, but never wanted you to know." That was sweet, I guess. God, his poor heart. I needed to worry about that. "I just don't have an ashtray yet. I've been using this can." He lit one of his smokes me. "You look so nice. Can we go out somewhere so I can show you off? I want Mama to meet you. And you can see my room." "Sounds good." "Let's go! Let's take my truck. I've got a lawnmower in the back and - no offense - but this ain't a great neighborhood." "Yeah. I know." We got into his old, dented white truck. He immediately lit another cigarette and offered me one. "You're gonna love my Mama -- and I know she'll love you. She knows I'm gay, but we never talk about it. Nervous?" "About meeting your mom? A little." "It will be so fine -- don't worry. She hated that I was alone." "Why do you have a lawnmower? It's November." "It chops up the dead leaves and helps fertilize the grass." Ah. I guess that made total sense. We arrived at his fairly normal two-story house. Two little twin girls greeted us at the door, They hugged his legs and then looked me up and down. They were so cute. "Mia, Josephine -- this is Dan. He's a friend." They hugged me too. So this is what is like to have a family you loved. "Miguel is probably down in my room playing Sega. He's a pill." His mom was in the kitchen cooking something that smelled wonderful. "Mama -- I want you to meet someone." She turned around and regarded me with half-closed eyelids. "It's a pleasure to meet you. You're just as beautiful as Jose said you were." She smiled widely and gave me a huge embrace. "So handsome! You must eat supper with us. I need another grownup to talk to. Jose is always in his room and the kids are always fighting. Thank God I'm going through the change -- no more babies!" "I was the baby of my family. Probably an accident." "No, no. Just a surprise." I loved this family already. "Now go - I have to finish in here. I'll call you when the food is ready." We went down to Jose's room in the basement. It was pretty nice. There was a preteen boy - 11 or 12, playing the hell out of some video game. "Miguel. Pause that shit and meet my friend." Another beautiful kid. He was miffed and turned around to say a quick hello. "Is it your boyfriend???" "Go do your homework, cabrone." He left angrily and then it was just Jose and I. We embraced and I inhaled his musky, sweaty man smell. I was getting addicted to it. I wanted to get him naked again. "Mama won't be done cooking for another hour. Want to fool around a little?" "Fuck yes!" "Okay - but I want to tell you something -- I'd rather fuck you than the other way around. That alright?" "Absolutely. You're good at it." We got naked and he fucked me like a mad man. I loved the idea of his seed inside of me. It felt right. He glistened with sweat and panted, "I love your ass, Dan. It feels so good in there." "You have a talented dick, Jose." "We better get dressed now, Supper will be ready soon, Hungry?" "Not really - but it smells so good." "Eat as much as you can, please. Mama takes great pride in her cooking. She really likes you." Dinner (what I called the evening meal) was delicious. I ate as much as I could, but not nearly as much as Jose did. "That was great, Miss Martinez. I need to walk some of some of this off." "Yes, yes. You boys go have fun. I'll get the girls to help me clean up." We went back down to Jose's room. I thought we were going to have round two, but he was changing clothes. "I want to go show you off in those clothes some more. My aunt owns a cantina here in town, not far. It's not gay but somebody in my family is always there." I met his aunt and two of his cousins and we had some tequilas. Every single relative of his was beautiful. Jose wanted to go to no name bar. He could drink for free and kiss there. Well -- second time in one day. What the hell? Sure. I doubted very much that these clothes would smell new by Wednesday. Shit. I needed to be careful not to say a single word about any of that. Jerry was at the door and was still being cold towards me, towards us. It wasn't that busy. Earl was nice enough not to mention seeing me already once already today. "Look at you dressed all fancy. Jose here can drink for free, but you I gotta charge you." "No problem." "I'll pay if he has to," Jose offered. "Goddamn it, kids. I'll charge you both half price." I'd really liked the tequila we'd had already. I ordered two with beer chasers. "Uh oh. Don't tell me you like tequila now?! Be careful. My dad liked it too much and I think it's why Mama eventually kicked him out of the house. I haven't seen him in ten years." "Don't worry, Babe. I'm too invested in my career -- and you -- to waste my life away." "Oh look. One of those victims of the cutter is here. I'm so glad you're letting that go. I was worried." Man, I sucked. I was already withholding information stuff from him. Big stuff. We moved to a little table because Earl tended not like to see public affection right there at the bar. We kissed openly. I only regret the hateful glare we were getting from Jerry. "Let's go, Jose. It's been a long day and I have work in the morning." "Aww. Really? One more drink and a cigarette. Please?" "OK." I really had to give him that much after lying to his face. I really liked smoking. I hoped it wasn't going to become a habit. Too expensive. We got back to my place and I gave him a quick blow job. I couldn't get enough of his pure, all-natural life milk. I told him as much. Tomorrow would be a Tuesday...and then Wednesday PART THREE I kind of don't remember much about Tuesday. I'd always kind of thought of Wednesday as an unlucky day -- mainly because I always had to think twice about how to spell it. Lance and I went out for smoke breaks on the rusty fire escape. "Did you sleep with the clothes on last night?" "Nope. Didn't have to. I went to two bars and put them in a pile while I had sex. I hung them up and they look just perfectly abused now." "Tell me about your guy." "He's the sweetest man on Earth. Genuine. But he's...heavy." "Like 'fat'?" "Yeah. Very much so, but I don't use that word." That's pretty all that was noteworthy about my Tuesday. Oh, I talked with Jose on the phone and he sort of invited himself over. He fucked me, sweat all over me and left. OK. I had the next 17 hours to kill before my appointment tomorrow. I decided to smoke a lot of weed and listen to Depeche Mode with the headphones on. I really couldn't believe the bad review 'Rolling Stone' gave this CD. Violator was genius. It meshed with a good buzz so perfectly. I drifted off somewhere around four in the morning. I woke up around 10 am. Shit. Why couldn't I have woken up with only an hour left to get ready. I showered and used all the beauty products Lance had suggested. My hair looked ridiculously good. I got dressed in the new-ish clothes. I couldn't pace any more. I decided to leave the apartment at noon. I drove by the address. I shuddered for whatever reason. I needed to calm down. I saw a sports bar called 'Innings' (or something like that). I parked on the street. They'd have bar food and tons of TVs. I could kill a couple of hours here. Lance had warned me not to show up too early. "Rich dudes are always late and drunk by mid-afternoon. They don't have jobs." Done and done. I ate a plate of loaded nachos and watched the one TV that wasn't playing ESPN. Some game show. I would kick so much ass on one of these shows. No brag, but I would. Their tequila was a better brand than any I've tasted so far. the dudes here were all talking about the upcoming Sunday football games as I ate and got a little drunk...just a little. The food made me feel better. I still had an hour left. I joined the guys at the bar. You never knew where you'd find a story. I ordered another tequila and pretended to be straight. Every single person there was smoking. I lit one from the pack Jose left behind the night before. I didn't belong here, but I still had an hour to kill. The bartender turned his attention to me "You gotta college team, kid? "Nebraska". Groans from the other guys. I just knew it was a college with a good team. "Best keep that under your hat. What can I get ya?" "Tequila. House brand." The conversations here were boring as hell. What the fuck was "fantasy football"? They were really into arguing about their "leagues". No stories here...just boring straight man shit. I used to have teen crushes on those jock types in high school, but it was never enough to get me interested in sports. It was Wednesday but they were all watching highlights from Monday Night's game - like it even mattered. "You're new here. What do you do?" "I'm a reporter for the alternative weekly." "That free one? With all the gay shit in it?" "It's mostly about the local music scene. I cover actual news stories." "Oh yeah? There was a dead hooker found a few blocks from here. Strangled with the very necklace she was wearing -- or else it cut her throat, something like that. Paper never covered it." "Does that happen a lot around here?" He shrugged. "If it was the work of a serial killer -- then I would cover it." "Yeah -- I see." Less than 40 minutes to go. I must be developing a higher tolerance for alcohol because I only felt slightly buzzed. I tried not to think about how important this appointment could be to my future. I had to be cool. "One more tequila, and a pitcher of Miller Lite." "Comin' up." I couldn't stop fiddling around with the gold bracelet Lance had lent me to wear. I was not a jewelry person. "Thanks, man. Nice place you got here." "You think? It does OK." I had one of my mini notebooks and a palm-sized pen in my front pocket. I really should buy one of those tiny tape recorders. I'd put that on my Christmas list. Also a cell phone. I just hated the idea of always being available. 24/7. Jose had one because of his landscaping work. I was finally getting slightly drunk and decided it was close enough to 3 to leave. One more cigarette and a trip to the bathroom and I'd be good to go. I peed and stood in front of the mirror and took a look at my pretend self. The clothes looked just unkempt enough, but my hair was not messy enough. I put a palm full of water through it. OK. Better. I looked as close to a rich kid as I ever would. The shoes were finally stretching out a little. I walked out and let the chilly Autumn air wake me up and put some color in my cheeks. And there I was. Not Dan or Danny -- Daniel was here. I pressed the buzzer and waited. "Yes?" It was Julie Andrews again. "Daniel Sherwood. I have an appointment." "Yes. I see. Come on up to the fifth floor. I'll be waiting." The door clicked. I was in. The elevator was an old, iffy freight lift that was very David Lynch. The whole building was. I practiced my bored look as I made sure my fly was closed. "Mr. Sherwood?" There she was. She didn't look anything like Julie Andrews. She was dressed like a spinster librarian with glasses and a bun in her white hair. She also didn't seem the least bit pleasant. I could give that attitude right back to her. She unlocked a door and let me in to the gallery space. Impressive. "Of course there's no photography allowed." There were no prices on anything - because rich people just bought whatever they wanted without caring about trivial things like cost. "At this end, we still have a few of Salvador's earliest pieces." They were distinctively rust-colored, an ominous brown that I guess blood dries into. "Most of those were done before he started mixing blood with oil paints. As we move to the right, you'll see the colors get richer and more defined." "Yes. I see that." I tried to look bored - even though the man obviously had talent. Every single canvas was done in shades of red. "Just early this year, he began to get more abstract. weird red you'd never see in a Sherwin Williams store. 'Hustler blood' was all I could think. "I like this much more, but I believe I'd like something done with my own blood. Something personal. Does he do commissions?" "They may be arranged, if his schedule can be freed up. I'll have to talk to him first." "I see. It's for a gift." Her portable phone rang. "One moment please. Feel free to look around." She answered it with her Julie Andrews voice. "Gallery. This is Valerie. Yes, Mrs. Mallory... oh. Oh! Well...yes, yes. I understand. Of course. I'm not sure." She moved back out into the hall. It was about then that I heard the music. Loud metal music. I followed it to another door at the far left end of the loft. I wondered if Salvador was actually in there, working. I chanced it. It was another huge room that had a plastic tarp on the floor and many opened tubes of paint. The music was godawful shit that I thought Nirvana had killed off already. Salvador was wearing a painter's smock. And nothing else. I could see his bare ass. He didn't see me, but moved to turn the music off. "Ah - the art collector is here." "I'm sorry to disturb you." He turned to face me. He was astonishingly handsome. Jet black hair and a neat little mustache and goatee that Lucifer himself only wishes he could have. "You aren't a patron of the arts and you're not wealthy. You fooled Valerie, though. That's not easy to do. You were just drawn here, drawn to me." "No...I..I mean, I just...." Damn. I was busted. "Look -- I'm a wanna-be reporter and I'd like to do a story about you." "Want it bad enough to give me some blood?" Oh fuck no! "Well..." "I bet you have that ice cold Northern European blood - which is not easy to find around here." "OK. I'll do it. Now?" "No. Can you come back later tonight? Around 10?" Valerie burst in. "Mr. Sherwood! This is not allowed! I'm so sorry, Salvador!" "Go mind those receipts, Valerie. We're discussing business." She harrumphed and left abruptly. "But first...mind if I make one small cut? Just to see the color, maybe have a taste." "Uh..." This better get me a better job somehow. "OK." "I'll let you photograph me --even if it's just a silhouette. I have a fantastic camera. We'll talk more tonight." "OK, But not too deep -- and somewhere I can hide it." "How about a little nick on the cheek? You can say you sneezed while you were shaving. That OK?" No. "I guess. As long as you use a fresh blade. And only make a little cut." "I use Exacto blades -- you can watch me put in a new blade. Smart. I like that." I watched him take a fresh blade from a little plastic box and he replaced the old one with it. Was I actually going to let him do this? "Just a small cut, OK?" "Absolutely. Mr. Sherwood." And then he made a quick little jab on my cheek and I barely felt it. He collected the drips in a small glass vial. There are a lot of little blood vessels on the face and the little tiny cut bled a lot and wasn't clotting anytime fast. "Beautiful! It's so pure." He then leaned down and licked the fresh wound on my face, I'd never agreed to that! Fuck! "Mm... you've smoked some weed recently and drank alcohol very recently. You don't use drugs -- not a virgin. " Was this guy a vampire or something? "You can taste all that??" "Oh yes. My sense of smell, taste and vision are very refined." "OK. Do you, um, have a band-aid you let me put on." He fetched one and I hoped no blood had gotten on my shirt. "See you at 10 tonight. Valerie won't be here. It'll be just us." I left and walked back to where my car was parked. As much as I wanted to stop at No Name, I couldn't. I was wearing the same clothes as I was on Monday. Plus -- even though the shaving accident excuse would probably fly, I'd met my quota of lies for the past couple of days. I knew I'd have to probably find a way to avoid Jose. We were having sex almost every night before his shift. Another lie would have to happen. There were messages on my machine but I just wanted to take a nap. I took off the shoes and lied down on the futon. I didn't wake up until it was almost 8 PM. Phone. "Hello?" "Hey! I been trying to reach you all day. What's up?" "I'm sick -- stayed home in bed today." I actually did feel a little unwell right then. "Oh no! What's wrong?" "Sore throat, coughing...no fever. It's just a bad cold." "Oh man. It's about that time of year I guess. Can I bring you anything?" "No. I hope you don't get it too." "OK. Call me tomorrow. Just rest and drink some fluids. Good night, Dan. I love you." "Me too, Bye." While I was on a roll, I'd call Ed. "Hey! I left you a message. I was worried. How did it go?" "Well...I'm part of the story now." He audibly gasped. "He'll give me an interview if I agree to give him some of blood. It's later tonight. I can also score photos that he wants final approval of." "Holy SHIT, Danny! Are you sure about this? Will you be safe? I mean - look, if you want to drop this now, I'll let you do the fat guy story." "Yeah -- I'm part of that story too." "Oh man ...Danny...I mean...." "Look, it's fine. I'll be OK. But I may be in late tomorrow." "Take the day off. Get rest, scribble some stuff down and try not get too personally involved with your work. You're just like I was back in the day --and it nearly killed me." I hung up. And wanted to shower and get ready. I could just dress as myself this time. There was no need to pretend for Salvador's sake. I was ready. I sat in front of the TV and opened the bottle of Mexican wine Jose had bought over the other night. I knew nothing about wine, but it wasn't bad. I'd chilled it even though I didn't know if I was supposed to. Some of them were supposed to be warm I suppose. I had fresh mini notebook in my pocket. I smoked two cigarettes and checked myself in the bathroom mirror. The bleeding had stopped on my cheek and was barely noticeable. I could always let some designer stubble grow in. I'd look like the other trendy dudes in the office. I needed to go. Even though I still had 45 minutes to go. No Fear. PART FOUR I was early again. I'd parked at that same random sports bar to have a few drinks. I'd put this on the company account. Small crowd again, but different bartender. Same insanely boring hetero talk. this new barkeep carded me. Asked me if I had a college team too. "M.U. for football, K.U. for basketball." (I went to Creighton and had no idea where they were in the standings -- or if they even had sports teams) "No way - you can't have the best of both worlds -- pick a state, kid!" Fuck him. I ordered some double shots of Captain Morgan rum and handed him the card. "Want to run a tab?" "Yeah. What time is it?" "8:50. Got a hot date later?" Sorta "No. Not exactly." I wanted a really healthy buzz by 10 -- and I needed to calm down. I know one thing: I was not going to let him lick the cut he made on me. That had to be somewhat unsafe -- the human mouth was full of bad-ass bacteria. I'd brought a little box of my own razor blades from home. I only ever shaved with a traditional razor. Those electric shavers just didn't do a good enough job. I kept getting them for Christmas from different family members, but always re-gifted them eventually. "Damn, Kid! You some kind of camel or something? You're supposed to sip rum, not down it like beer." Fuck him twice. He had no idea what lie ahead for me. I got out my little notebook and looked at all the questions I'd thought to ask. I'd done some internet research and discovered Salvador wasn't the only artist who painted with blood. There were more than a few, but he was the only one I'd found who used other people's blood - and the only one who mixed it with regular oil paint (that I could find). I underlined a few key words and added some thoughts. I had to get this right. The bartender handed me a tall glass this time. It was a rum and coke, with a 'heavy pour'. "It's almost 9:30....what's that? Your diary?" "No. I just take notes all the time. I'm a reporter." That still wasn't exactly true. But after tonight.... I just hated how easily I could lie these days. I remember ,as a kid, thinking only kids lied. Adults just wouldn't, couldn't tell a fib. Kids are dumb. I was numb but had work to do -- I'd get there early. So what? I was no longer 'Mr. Daniel Sherwood". Just Danny. Punk. asshole, wanna-be reporter. I buzzed the door. Silence. Then I heard a harried voice answer... "Daniel? You're a little early and I've got somebody here. Can you..? Oh never mind -- come on up. I'll leave the door unlocked." It buzzed. Maybe he had another 'donor' up there. This was usually about the time I'd started seeing them filter into No Name. Why was I jealous? Simple - I was very much attracted to this demonic vampire freak. Not in love. Just ... just something else. I went inside the gallery space and saw Salvador and some grungy kid sitting together,forehead to forehead. The hustler kid was bawling his eyes out and Salvador was saying quiet, comforting words to him and gently putting some gentle pressure on his bandaged forearm. "Sh, Sh. You need to go home and relax.Don't smoke any more T tonight and stay off the street. They'll all be waiting for you tomorrow. Take those iron pills I gave you and maybe some B-12." The scummy kid was still crying, but tried to compose himself. I'd never seen such a tough-looking dude show so much vulnerability. I pretended to be interested on one of the paintings. You can pretty much hear everything in one of these big spacious lofts. Had the hustler freaked? About the cut? Or was it the drugs he had probably taken? I had no idea what 'T' was. It could be smoked was all I knew so far. I needed to ask Salvador. I needed to know so much. The guy left. We were alone at last. I felt my dick harden. "Lose your shoes and socks -- we're going back to the studio and there's paint on the floor. If you step in anything, you'll know it right away...and you won't track it back out here. Old painter's secret." I was a little embarrassed about my feet. I needed to take better care of them. His bare feet were extra long and looked very groomed. "Actually -- get completely naked and I'll give you the gifts I got for you." Oh no. Get naked in front of this guy?? I wasn't ashamed of my body. I was lean and had a fairly nice penis -- that I wish wasn't so erect. 'Gifts'. I'd eventually get one more than I bargained for, and only know about it a few weeks later. "Does this excite you a little?" Don't be embarrassed. Let's go on back to the studio. I just left my clothes and shoes there on the floor. Was I supposed to bring them? The cold air was going to kill my boner for sure. The work area was covered with a new plastic tarp with paint spills everywhere..,god, I hoped it was paint and not blood. "Here" he held out a paint-spattered flannel shirt. "You look a little cold. And then we'll get started. I'm guessing you don't want the cut on your arm. I can do it on your upper thigh -- it'll be easy enough to conceal under your boxers." "What about the interview?" "After. I have some surprises for you after we cut." Well...It's not like I had a lot of options here. "Oh. Should I stand?" Was this all really happening? "Yes! Blood flows downward, thanks to gravity. I won't need to cut so deeply. I'll have to be careful -- your femoral artery is down in that area. Now I'm really wanting to use some arterial blood eventually because it's more bluish. But I can't take that risk. Not with you. Do you have a lover, Danny?" "Yes. He doesn't know anything about this. We're still new to each other. My first boyfriend." "Spanish?" "Yeah -- how did you..." Forget it -- he was some kind of weird psychic freak. "Try to stand still. I have to be careful in this area." Shit. I'd left my fancy new razor blades in my jeans pocket. "Do you have more clean exacto blades?" "I still have the one I used on you earlier. All washed and everything. Still sharp as hell. I even accidentally cut my thumb with it as I dried it off. Why wasn't I smart enough to ask if he'd washed it again? With alcohol? I didn't think of too many other things except -- maybe I should get the hell out of here. "OK." My boner was rising again. I loved that was kneeling down with a knife in his hand. I stayed as still as I could. This cut hurt more than the one he made on my cheek. He went deeper. and I felt the warm blood start flowing down my cold bare leg. "Uh oh. That maybe went too deep. Stay put." He collected several glass vials of the gushing blood and of course put his mouth on the cut and sucked dome up. I was still wasn't OK with that. "Saliva is a natural coagulant. This won't last. I didn't hit the artery. This is why I usually use the guys' arms and wrists." "Wow. Did I just lose too much blood? I'm dizzy." "No - less than a pint. Or about just about a pint. I'll get you some juice and cookies in a second. Hold this cloth over the cut and put some pressure on it. Let me go get you some of your gifts, He came back with two boxes, his fancy camera and two folders. "I have my own darkroom and took some pictures of the gallery, the studio and myself -- partially shadowed and distorted in an antique mirror. That old glass that warps everything. These are for your story. The other photos are for you -- and just you, Not for publication. I put the appropriate negatives. in the photos folder that can be published. I'm keeping the other negatives. Don't look at them now.Now - open this box. It was a tiny little recorder - just what I'd wanted. "I know you like to write in your little notebook, but I talk a lot and I talk fast. This will be easier to transcribe for your article. "Wow. Thank you so much, Salvador. I still have my notebook with questions written in it. This is perfect!" It's got a fresh cassette in it as well as new batteries. You're all set. Okay....open the other one. It was a mini digital camera. "That's for you to use next time. You have a computer, right? With a USB port?" "Three of them." "Nice. You look pale -- let me get you some juice and some Oreos." Gross. "Let me check you out for paint and blood. Lift your feet up. OK. Your cut is already clotting." We can go out to the gallery and have a seat. I was still naked. I sat on a sofa as he got me the promised glass of orange juice and a handful of cookies. I was hungrier and thirstier than I thought. I needed it too. I felt stronger. "Need the bathroom? It's right past the studio door. I went. But I didn't really have to go. Nothing came out from either end. I was still deathly pale, but I was usually looked too white anyway. I came back out and Salvador was sitting on the couch -- totally naked. Stimulating himself. Shit! OK. It's not like I didn't want this to go further - but I needed my interview. "Whoa -- you are one confident man, Salvador!" "I'll behave -- for now. I recorded some personal thoughts already. You can listen later. Let's get started." "OK. When did you first get interested in painting with blood?" "Call it a fetish. I love the life force and I think most art is too cold. Blood painting is warm. I used to just use my own blood, but it was too personal -- I started asking others to donate blood - friends, lovers. family. It freed me up creatively. But blood changes color because of the iron content. It also flakes off unless you use a fixative. I was selling my work while still in school. I got interested in using strangers' blood. The easiest donors were these street kids who had drugs and disease in their system. It makes a difference in texture and color. I got inspired. Bit it still rusted and flaked. So I began to mix the blood with oil paint -- which stays around for centuries. Obviously. I still like the color red. So do my customers." "Do you feel like it's reckless to paint with blood when there are some serious blood-borne diseases out there?" "Possibly. I don't like the word 'reckless'...I prefer to call it 'daring'. I need to be as brave as the young men who volunteer to let me cut them. I've had the AIDS virus for ten years -- from my own activities unrelated to art --and some of the paintings you've seen in the gallery are tainted -- but the virus dies quickly outside the body. I don't use drugs, but I do get a secondhand high when I smell or taste chemical blood. Turn off the recorder." I did. "Are you scared now?" "No -- Yes. A little. I'm new to sex. I was a virgin until this past weekend. I think I'm in love with the guy." "Love is as dangerous as sex, Daniel. OK. Turn the recording on again." He stood up and his dick and hairy torso were beautiful and in plain view. "I'm going to paint now as we talk. I hope you don't mind -- you are inspiring me. He put his smock on and left the room. That furry ass of his was so perfect. He came back with a new bottle of wine and a corkscrew. It's still corked so you know I didn't put anything in it. Some guys assume I'm going to drug them, but that's not my style. I understand their distrust." He mixed a vial of my fresh blood with a small amount of crimson paint. " I only had 50/50 luck with uncorking wine bottled on my own, but I couldn't fuck this up in front of him. "Glasses?" "What? Oh - no. We can just take swigs from the bottle if you're comfortable with that?" Yes. No. Oh fuck it. I took a generous gulp from the very dry red wine. He was already painting on the fresh canvass. "Is seduction part of your work?" "It's possibly part of this one - but not usually. I'm just sourcing materials for art." "Do you consider your work ethical?" "I hate that word. Nothing is 100 % ethical. Vegetarians make such a big deal about their 'cruelty-fee' diets, but tons of tiny animals are killed when grains and vegetables are harvested. Rodents and such. Is that ethical?" He was talking in circles and I needed to reign this in. But then he had the brilliant idea of cutting his own groin and mixing his blood in with mine. I involuntarily shuddered. "When and why did you start going abstract with your artwork?" "Earlier this year. I felt like brushes were putting too much distance between me and the canvas. I started finger-painting like a pre-school kid. It was a revelation!" His groin was still bleeding. It was alarming. "The work progressed towards abstraction just by not using traditional tools. "You might need to tend to your cut, Salvador." "Perhaps...in a bit. I'm just too into this now. This piece will not be for sale!" He added some dark blue. Making violet. "Do you see yourself working with blood forever? Is this your permanent medium?" "I don't know -- that's a very good question. It will always involve something provocative -- I once considered using snake venom mixed with blood. Or doing something 3-D, sculpture or something. Right now - I'm still so drawn to blood for now. I'm always thinking of new ways to incorporate it. These street kids are using different drugs now. Opiates are really intriguing to me currently. The blood is a little lazy - which is why yours is so unique. It's lively and clean but chilled like glacial water. I once tried mixing urine with paint but there was no life in the art. And it was just too distasteful to my eye." "Why do you think people are so drawn to your paintings?" "Some people are just morbid -- like those people who bought John Wayne Gacy's paintings that he makes on death row. I think even Dahmer's father sold some terrible drawings and wrote a book. Some weirdos are just always looking for something new, something dark. Other's are just attracted to me -- to a kind of danger they think I represent. I'm actually harmless, but it's easier to just take their money and let them think whatever they want." I drank more of the wine but Salvador hadn't touched it. I guess maybe he saw a little bit on concern on my face because he walked over and took a long swag. His large penis was half erect. I just reached over and touched it. I just had to. "I've got an idea. Come with me." I didn't even think twice about following him. He had me stand at the easel and gave me the blood/paint. "This will be my first collaboration. Paint something - go with what's already there and carry it for a while. There are brushes over there or you can use your fingers, whatever. I put my index finger directly on his dripping wound. I held to my lips. "What's it taste like, Danny?" "Passion. Hot, risky passion." "Go with that." I painted using just his blood and then with some of the maroon paint. My own cut was still dripping a little and I added that too. I added all three liquids. and reached what I thought was a natural stopping point. He was impressed. "Done! I love your instincts! I guess writing and painting are very similar. We just finished the first the first chapter in our story. Together." It looked like a piece of organ meat to me, but of course I didn't say that." And then we were kissing passionately His fully hard dick was rubbing against mine and I reached around a grabbed his furry butt. He took my face in his hands. "Are you sure?" No."Very!" He brought me down to the floor and mounted my body. Our bloody, paint spattered naked bodies merged and he entered me. I wasn't thinking this through very well - we were just just making another creation, still collaborating. This way more painful than when Jose first nailed me with his stubby little member, nut I was infinitely more turned on. That makes a difference as it turns out. I wanted him in me deeper and deeper despite the pain. He was jabbing away the same he stabbed his fingers directly onto the canvas. Art was being made inside of me. I should remember to write that phrasing down. "I'm signing it now...I'm coming!! He heaved as he shot a hot load deep into my guts. I wouldn't need a test to confirm I was now infected. I was a walking, talking, writing work of art. The way I lived my life from here on would be different. He stayed inside me as his dick got soft. "Want the shower first?" "Yeah -- do you have hydrogen peroxide?" "No! That makes the cut heal slower. Use soap and warm water. Not too hot. You don't have anything in your hair, but some of the paint may be hard to get off your skin. I've got a special mixture of stuff you can use on that later. It's a little hard on your skin - so use some moisturizer afterwards. I'll send you home with everything you'll need. What are you thinking? "Only good things, Salvador. Only good things." He grinned at me and I finally saw the glowing light behind his 'evil' disguise. We hugged again. And then I showered. When I came out of the shower, all clean (on the outside at least) Salvador was trying to extract the blood and semen mix I'd left in the spot where my ass was during sex. "You don't mind if I use this, do you?" "No. Not at all." "I've got clients from Italy flying in tomorrow morning. Think we could meet again on Friday? After 6 PM? This new painting of ours will be ready for you to take home." "Wow! Thanks! Sure. Think you get some quotes from these clients? Maybe a photo? I can messenger some release forms to Valerie first thing in the morning." "No. I've already got all kinds of legal forms on hand. I even signed some for the photos in the one folder. Remember -- those other photos are for you only. Don't share them or reproduce them in any way--not that you would. I'm lawyered up, man. You can understand why, "Yes. Well, I've got a story to work on. It's almost 1." "Read all the instructions and learn to use it. It shouldn't be that difficult for a smart guy like you." "I appreciate all this, Salvador." "That's another thing. My real is Simon. Simon Goldman. I chose to go by Salvador when I was in art school. I'm 40 years old." "What would you prefer to be called by my me?" "Your lover." I just kissed him and left. "See you on Friday." I was too wired to go straight home. I had tomorrow off -- but a lot of work to do. No way could I go back to No Name. I could probably never go there again. I'd have to lose that place, I'd have to lose sweet Jose, his wonderful family and my negative HIV status. Things would change now. I went back to the sports bar and there was a different bartender working. I couldn't drink tequila ever again now so I ordered a pitcher of beer, got some quarters and went to play some pinball. Jose had probably called me to see if I was feeling better. Maybe he was hoping I'd be well enough to host him again before his shift began. I couldn't. I had my lover's virus replicating inside my bloodstream -- even sucking his dick was not 100% safe now. People think playing mindless games is just mindless and an escape from reality don't understand that, yes - it does occupy the detail-oriented part of your brain while the rest of your mind is processing other things. It's also true when you're drawing or writing and even when you're washing dishes. The mind is most active when you're in the deepest stage of sleep. I bet my lover knew that already. I finished my third beer and decided to call it a night. I wanted to look at the photos and listen to the tape. Was it still recording while we had sex? I drove home without incident even though I knew I'd never pass a breathalyzer test just then. Messages from Jose, Mom and Ed. All of them were probably worried, but it was a little too late for that. I wouldn't start the story or listen to the tape until I'd had a good sleep. But I would look at the photos he'd taken just for me. The first few were gorgeous photos of his face and torso. A couple of shots of his hard dick with every single vein, pore and pubic hair shown in glorious detail. I didn't beat off or even attempt to read up on the digital camera. I just slept. Let it all work itself out in the my dreams. END

I'm sharing my Instagram account because I'm always looking for new pals. There's no porn or even anything remotely sexual on my feed -- just some random artwork, cartoons and photos. Find me at russKC Do you have an account? Let us know.....

I just started an account and follow pals as well as some random, anonymous studs - but there's a 'no porn' rule there. I just post my artwork and cartoons there. I wouldn't mind a few new friends there. Let me know if it's OK to give out my account name. Thanks. (sorry if this has already been addressed)

Note for readers: I always appreciate and read comments - one that I get a lot is "not enough sex". Well I added more sex (starting in part 6). But as I added more sex, I added more characters and the story got more massive. It covers all sorts of sex and does contain some violence. Approach with caution if you are the gentle sort. It's not autobiographical, but there are parts me in the Brian character. There really is no Ted -- even though I sort of wish there was because I really grew to love him as I wrote this story. He's based on several people I've known, met, chatted with or read about in other forms of fiction. I almost hate that this story is finally finished. All characters and locations are completely fictional. Toon I dedicate this work of fiction to a man I was too stupid, selfish and shortsighted to hang on to. I miss you, Sir. 1. BEFORE TED -- 1989 I'm not entirely sure when I turned into such an asshole. I think it all began when I moved away from home and decided to kill the sad loser I'd always been. I needed an extreme makeover. My initial plan to become straight pretty much died when I arrived on campus and saw all the hunks in shorts sand bare chests walking up and down my dorm hallways. It was one of those famously athletic schools with excellent sports teams and generous scholarships. Yikes. I was pursuing a degree in industrial design because I'd heard they could have their pick of high-paying jobs if they had talent. I groomed myself thoroughly and tried to keep abreast of everything"cool" to wear, think and listen to. Little by little - I began fitting in. I worked on my voice, my walk and my smile. The egotistical asshole in me was emerging. I was engaged in my classes and worked hard. Professors and classmates would say nice things about me, and I'd horde every compliment away like I was a squirrel storing nuts away for a long Winter. Nourishment for the jerk I was becoming. 2. A LITTLE CLOSER TO FINDING TED -- 1993 St. Louiburg, Missouri - Well, I'd done it! I landed a great job in big city with a company you've heard of. The stage was set! I moved into what I considered to be a really nice apartment building. I still didn't look the way I wanted, though. I used a few of all my new credit cards to buy a weight bench, go to a tanning bed and get tinted contacts so that my dark brown eyes looked even blacker. I found it easier and easier to meet people and talk to them. I made tons of work friends (mostly women). Jana was my favorite. She was beautiful and smart -- a little on the sarcastic side. We'd have lunch together and she knew the dirt on everybody. She was the kind of bitch you do NOT want to get on the bad side of. Ever. We'd been friends for almost a year when she confronted me about my fashion sense. Her look was serious but there was kindness in it. "Brian, Honey...We need to talk. For a gay man, you have terrible taste in clothes." Huh? I never told her I was a homo. I've since noticed that certain women just know. She had a big mouth--so I guess the whole 'coming out' process would be out of my hands at this point. "I dress just like my manager, just like the guys in my department." "Hopelessly straight bores. I'll take you shopping on Saturday...and then we'll visit my hairdresser." Gulp. OK. You can't refuse Jana. "But I'm not so sure I want to look like upper management. I think I mostly just want to be good enough for a hot man, I'm lonely." "I'll think on that later, Dear." So we shopped at the snootiest menswear stores you can imagine. She picked out formal clothes, casual clothes, underclothes and a few pairs of shoes that cost more than my rent. The haircut was OK - but not terribly different or better than the ones I got at Super Cuts (the ladies are so nice there). We hit some skincare shops before finishing up for the day. All she was doing was gussying up the arrogant prick I'd become...making things worse. 3. TED AT LAST -- 1993 There was a really hot new gay club in town called "Ledge". It was apparently so cool and exclusive that hip. straight couples flocked to it every night of the week. Jana dressed me up one Friday night and took me there in her ridiculously expensive new sport car. She looked like a million bucks and I maybe looked like a thousand at most. She smelled like the kind of perfume you couldn't find at Rite-Aid. The Ledge was in an iffy neighborhood and so she parked a million miles away....in a well-lit lot with cameras and a security guard. I paid and slipped the guy an extra twenty. He was almost ready to hug us both. Once we got to the sidewalk, you could already hear the music and assorted frenzied activity from the club. Jana paused under an exceptionally bright storefront and sized me up and down. She looked pleased. "My god! I'm a miracle worker. Everything is on your tab tonight. I don't think I got your cologne just right -- but it'll be so smoky in there, nobody will notice." "Just stay close to me, Jana. I'm nervous right now." "Don't worry my poor little virgin farm boy. Mother won't leave you." She laughed. This was going to be OK. Maybe even great. And there we were - at the entrance. I was impressed already. It was a HUGE place! I mean, Wow! The cover charge was pretty steep, but it probably had to be. "Don't let me do anything stupid." She nodded and held my hand. This was going to be so cool. We were a bit early for a weekend evening but it was still pretty crowded. We lucked upon an empty table that a couple had just abandoned. Jana adjusted herself primly on one of the tall stools. "Do you see those big, glowing blue drinks people have? Want me to get you one?" "For starters. Just don't fall in love with that hunky bartender. They're perfect and they know it. Tip-loving parasites. This will be your first test, Brian." Well the bartender was a hunk alright. He gave me a wink as I ordered two of those bizarre drinks which were famously called "Neon Windex". He let his fingers linger over mine as I handed him the cash. Sorry. I know your story, shit stain. Jana arched a perfect eyebrow as I approached. "Well done." "What do you think is in these?" "Who the hell knows? Rum is my guess -- with a generous helping of nuclear waste. Drink!" It was good. It didn't taste like booze at all. I suddenly remembered a girl from high school who got pregnant after drinking Long Island Iced Teas 'it don't taste strong, but it IS'. I wonder what happened to her. Not many good things is my bet. It may not have tasted strong but I could already feel a heavy duty wave of something making me giddy. I watched the beautiful crowd. I was not worthy of this scene just yet. I needed more work. I saw a few men that I wanted to undress in jack-off fantasies later tonight. I'd almost forgot about Jana until I heard her slurp the last of her toxic drink. She never drank anything without a straw so as not to mess up her perfect lipstick that probably cost a hundred bucks a tube. I was looking at her pretty face, feeling drunk. "You're beautiful, Jana." "Yes. It's true. Don't think I'm not watching you. I see who you take extra long looks at. You like 'em tall, dark-haired, and I'm almost certain you have a thing for Hispanics. Yes?" A person can only take so much of Jana in a single dose. "Yeah? What about you, Sweetie? Who have you noticed?" "I'm not even window shopping tonight, Darling. I just switched birth control and can't even take the chance of having a penis inside of me." Sensible gal. "Speaking of which - you know not to let any part of a man inside of you that's not covered in latex, right? I refuse to lose you before your time, Brian." "I have a keen eye for news when it comes to AIDS prevention, statistics. and have rubbers at home that I bought the minute I decided I wanted man sex. The box has never even opened. They don't go bad do they? Expire?" I didn't see how they could. "Oh they can...and do! I'll take you to buy the kind I swear by. But remember -- condoms are a little less than 90% effective. Make sure it's worth the risk. Get a guy's history first." "I know all that, Jana. I know condoms can break...because I think I am the result of a faulty 70's condom. My folks were pretty old when I was born. They never wanted to be parents..that much was pretty obvious from the beginning." I'd been coming to terms with that for a long time now. I just didn't want that part of my tragic shit broadcast to a potential mate/husband. "Well -- I'm going to introduce you to my therapist. She'll fix you up good. Now go out there and dance!" Was she serious? No way. "I can't. I haven't danced in front of people since the homecoming dance when I was a sophomore in fucking high school!" "Well...OK. Just go up there and look open to the possibility, OK? Make eye contact with someone you fancy and see what happens. I'll save your seat." I was not going to win this round. Fine. I worked my way through the gorgeous crowd, careful to avoid their careless cigarettes and drinks. At least the music was excellent as it blasted through the billion speakers embedded in the walls. It was that cold British pop/new wave I'd grown to love lately...right after my grunge phase. Good shit. The Darling Buds, Charlatans UK, The Sleepers, etc. The DJ was some kind of genius- mixing snippets of some 80's beats in the songs so delicately you'd just assume they were recorded that way originally. I was transfixed by the sounds as I passed by some big guy hunkered down at a cigarette machine and obviously fighting with it. "GODFUCKINGDAMMIT!" I stood next to him. "Need another quarter?" He stood up fully and cast an enormous shadow over me. My guess is that he was 6'5" or taller...maybe 250 pounds. 300? "No. I put in more than enough money in, but the knob won't pull out. Piece of shit machine!" The problem was simply that his brand was all sold out. "What's your second favorite brand?" He picked and the knob pulled straight out. Ta Da! "Thanks, Kid." "Can I bum one?" "Least I can do. Sure. I'm Ted." He held out an enormous hand for me to shake. My fingers were almost sucked away in the gravitational pull of that giant paw. Hot. He lit the smoke for me and I inhaled gratefully. The crowd had gotten denser and I was pretty sure Jana couldn't see me. She hated smokers. "Brian. Want to dance, Ted?" He laughed wide enough that I could see his buck teeth that had mostly been disguised by his thick full beard and mustache. So what? Perfect smiles were almost always enhanced by a dental intervention or expensive products. "I look like a giant hippo on the dance floor." We went and sat down at a little corner bar that was strategically located where the dancers could quickly hydrate. The stools were all empty and so we settled in. Ted was the kind of guy you had to examine closely because the sum of his parts was too much to take in at once. Huge. Just so huge. "but I can tell you want to go out there....so GO! NOW!" He was bossy in a different way than Jana was. It gave me a thrill and I wanted more. "These really aren't my kind of guys, Ted." "You're kidding, right? What's you're type?" "I don't know. You. You're my type." I don't think I was saying that quite right. "Huh?! You're into big guys? Beards? Ugly faces?" He seemed genuinely perplexed. "I like real men. Authentic." "Well...that type is hard to find in places like this. I'm only here because..." His tone had changed and his face softened, "Well. My lover and I had some great times here -- he loved to dance. He died a few months ago. And it ... he..." I could see tears form in his eyes, Oh man. Dead lover = AIDS = Red lights, danger!! Run!! "Let me buy you a drink, Ted. We'll toast..." "Andy." I ordered us each a simple domestic beer from the overworked bartender who was too busy to flirt. I left him a generous tip. "I'm sorry for your loss. We can talk about it if you want. Or not." "Maybe not just now, Brian. Tell me about you." I gave him a general overview of my current life, nothing too specific. Then the DJ played a favorite song of mine: "White Shirt" by The Charlatans UK. It made me involuntarily bob my head to the beat. "Go dance already, Brian! Don't make me have to tell you again. I'll be right here." I just left him alone there and followed my eager feet to the dance floor. The booze or something made me brave enough not to care who was watching me just dance without a partner. My hips unlocked and I hit a groove. Was I maybe showing off a little - for Ted to see? Maybe. Arrogant assholes like myself always have a secondary motivation for doing anything. The song seamlessly segued into another, then another. Before I knew it, I had a dance partner. Cute guy, my age. He was a clone of so many of the pretty boys I'd seen around. His dance skills put mine to shame. I pantomimed an exhausted, sweaty dancer and moved off the dance floor. He followed. "Oh my god! It get's so warm when it's crowded like this. Oh my God! Hi - I'm Douglas..." He didn't offer a hand to shake. "Brian." I didn't want Ted or Jana to see me with him and assume he was 'my type'. "Want to go somewhere for a minute?" Like where? The bathroom? The parking lot? Uh, NO. "I can't. I'm here with somebody." "So what? I am too. Can I get your number at least?" And then a heavy arm went over my shoulder. "Hey, Babe. Who do we have here?" Ted. He bent down and gave me a whiskery kiss on the cheek. Before I could say a word, Douglas was gone. "Thanks, man." I kind of didn't want him to stop holding me like that. "No problem. You looked like you were trapped." "Ted to the rescue! Want another beer?" "Nah. I need to go now. Some other time, OK?" "Sure." I was about to compose a pout on my face when he took both my hands in his. "May you never have your heart broken, Brian. May you never know loss or pain." He looked as if he was on the verge of crying. He may have made it the other side of grief, but he hadn't made it back yet. He then tucked something into my back pocket. "Don't read this until I'm out of here." He gave me a full on kiss on the lips. Yep - I was into beards for sure. As I made my way back to Jana, I suddenly remembered a story a female friend in college once told me: "The first thing I thought of after my mom told me how babies were made was how horrible it must have been for Wilma Flintstone." I'd never once thought about she and Fred having sex - but it changed how I thought of cartoon men forever. I remember thinking how much I wouldn't mind doing it with Fred or Bluto from the Popeye show. Oilve Oyl should have chosen him over that freaky sailor with the weird forearms. Hell, I'd probably even let Homer Simpson fuck me if I'd had a few drinks first. Jana wasn't at our table. In the place where we'd been sitting there were two scary goth chicks with severely short hair and piercings everywhere. She wouldn't have ditched me. "Brian!" The weirder of the two shouted at me over the music. You're Brian, right? Jana just went to use the bathroom and told us to keep an eye out for you." I just smiled and stood there like a giant squirrel. "I'm Veronica and this is Anika. Go find two more stools, Anika." The meeker girl left as instructed. Veronica gestured for me to sit. "Nice to meet you, Veronica." "Oh just call me 'Ronnie'. Everyone does. This is for you," she gestured to a fresh Blue Windex. "Seriously? These things are lethal." "Yeah. I think she wants to talk to you about something serious." uh oh "About what?" I suddenly felt like I was waiting in the principal's office. Ronnie just shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe about that bear you were smooching." "That what?" "Wow. You're as green as she said. 'Bears' are big, hairy dudes. I've never seen them here before but you found the only one. Here they come." Anika and Jana were each carrying a bar stool. Jana and I were facing them which I didn't like because I needed to read her face in order to gauge her mood and see how much trouble I was in. I took a few heavy sips of toxic waste while we made some friendly small talk that ended too soon as Ronnie stood up and announced they'd let us have some privacy now. No! Stay! "It's time for me to go show Anika off and scare some straight people. Come on, you sexy little bitch." I could easily picture Ronnie walking Anika around on a dog leash. I frankly didn't know much about lesbians, what they did in bed. "Let's switch to the other chairs, Jana. We can't see anything from this side." "Exactly. I need your undivided attention right now." she turned the stools so that we were facing each other. She looked serious but not angry. "I saw everything, Brian. I followed you. covertly. We're here for an hour and you already need an intervention." "What? Why?" I was suddenly fed up with this Daniel/Mr. Miagi thing we had going on. I was a grown man for god's sake! "Look. You're new at all this. I get that, OK. But when I saw you go straight for the biggest, fattest, hairiest guy in the city..." "I wouldn't call Ted 'fat'. He's just husky, solid." "Ted? Ted's the pig's name? A Ted is someone who installs siding or fixes your alternator." "What about Ted Kennedy or Ted Nugent?" "Did you really just use those two names in the same sentence?" "Whatever - that's awfully judge-y coming from a woman with two ex-husbands! He's actually going through a hard time right now. He's grieving." She looked at me with something new in her eyes. "I'll be damned...I think I saw you show some empathy for a moment." "Moment's over, Darling. He's not interested in dating anybody right now." I didn't tell her about the dead lover or the note he gave me. I couldn't wait to read it, but not in front of her. "OK. Tell me more about him, about this Ted." I gushed about his rough hands, his giant boots, his warmth, his perfect beard. And on and on. "He only looks rough, Jana. But maybe that's my type. I'm still figuring it out." "It's a stage I went through in high school. I liked 'em rough and 'bad' on the outside but tender inside. I guess you're basically just twelve years old at this point. Welcome to junior high," That second drink was affecting me something fierce, My brain wobbled. "Think we can go pretty soon?" "Yeah. Fresh air will be good for us, Don't think I didn't see you with that cigarette....you may NOT smoke in my car or my house or anywhere within ten feet of me." We ran into Ronnie and her pet Anika on the way out. "You guys are leaving already? Well, drive safe. I'll call you next week, Jana." She stuck out her pierced tongue at us which I guess was considered a friendly gesture in her world. "Are you a lesbian now?" I was kidding, but you had to be careful when joking with Jana. "If only. I'm just too fond of men and what's in their pants. She and Anika run a vintage clothing store. We're all going to get pedicures at this place she recommended. I also gave her your number...in case you want somebody to accompany places where men like this 'Ted' hang out. I'm certainly not going with you. Plus, I think she has some decent weed connections, FYI. " Once we were back at the entrance, I noticed the hot bouncer. He obviously worked out intensely - like nine times a day or something. Huge shoulders and biceps, completely shaved head and a tough silver chain around his thick neck. Hot as fuck! "You folks leaving already? It's not even midnight!" His eyes sparkled like a demonic coyote's would. Jana came over and stood directly in front of me. Rude. "Sorry. I'm allergic to cigarette smoke. Ta!" She practically dragged me through the exit by my ear. "Honestly, Brian! He had to be 50 years old - at least." We made our way through the parking lot. "Here's the thing about those really giant dudes....their dicks are not in proportion. They look tiny on the their big frames even though they'd look perfectly fine on an average-sized man. Also -- that whole myth about big hands and big feet just isn't true. If it was, no woman would ever be stuck going home with a little penis." "Maybe I don't care about dick size, Jana." "Really? I tend not to care -- unless they're really small. Those little things hurt when they stab around down there. Hung guys are more bearable, but those guys tend to have little else to offer a girl AND they generally have some form of STD. I got crabs from one of those big cocks I brought home in my my 20's. Guess I'm just lucky I didn't get warts as well." She sighed. "I've lived a life, Love. God my feet hurt!" "Well, you're the one who had to wear those fuck-me heals and who parked so far away." "Hush now. We're having a sleepover at my place tonight. There's a nighttime moisturizer I want you to try. I have some decent wine chilling as well." "And "Grease" again?" God, I wanted to destroy that tape with a magnet or something when she wasn't looking. I guess it held some special place in her heart, the way movies do with some women who saw them at a crucial time in their lives. "It's either that or "When Harry Met Sally". Decide now or I'll just drop you off at Memorial Park for all the rough sex you want." God, what a bitch. The street got a little darker and creepier for a block or two. We saw some homeless guy standing up and singing/yelling some hymn: "He is my rooftop! My rooftop! You hear me, Motherfuckers?!" After we passed him, Jana grabbed my right arm. "If you do end up with some big brute, you have to let me borrow him as a bodyguard sometimes." "Deal." There was a new security guard in the lot when we got there. He came scurrying from his little booth "Pretty lady! Pretty lady! Miguel told me see for you! Nobody touch your car, Pretty lady!" She gave him an air kiss and we were on our way toward the highway. "I still have the shorts and t-shirt you left from the last time." "Did you at least wash them?" "I had them cleaned. Yes." "You live so far away!" I was all whiny like entitled assholes tend to be. 4. TED'S LETTER It was a fun night I guess, but I was still glad to be back in my own apartment. Ted's folded-up note was still in my pocket, exactly as he'd left it. His fingers were the last to touch it and I'd slept with my jeans folded up under a pillow. Jana was a known snoop...even when she was drunk. It was now time. It was almost a full page written on the back of a hot pink, photocopied flyer for an AIDS charity walk or something. BRian -- Sorry if this is hard to read. Bartender wiped down the bar and its still wet. Your a good dancer! I could watch you dan ce all nite. But I'd rather take you home and fuck you brains out!! (smiley face with devil horns). But I cant be a boyfrend for a long time - ....i9f if ever. Not that your interested. HA HA You mite be the best looking man in the whole city!! We cant date but I would like to be friends. Please call me at --- ----. Soon. OK?? You owe me a cigarett HA HA (smiley face with little hearts around it) TEd I read it twice. It didn't smell like him - just the bar. Why would I ever call him if there would be no sex happening? I kept it as a souvenir in a little stack of letters and cards I meant to put in an album someday. If I'd been a good person, I would have kept in touch. But, oh well. I needed someone to 'fuck my brains out'...and that's all that mattered. Ya know? 5. MY TED OBSESSION I went through a long dry spell when my only social contacts were with Jana and new pal Ronnie. I didn't try going out to the 'rougher' bars by myself even though Ronnie had offered to go with me to a few places. I was in love with my own misery and drinking alone while playing Tetris and listening to some new CDs. The drinking thing was becoming a problem I needed to be careful with. My parents didn't drink, but almost everyone in their respective families did. Fuck it. It wasn't my problem if I could blame genetics. I thought about Ted every single day. He was the perfect one for me and he was gone forever. I must have thrown away that note of his during one of my psycho cleaning binges because it was lost. Why oh why didn't I ever call him?? A better person would have called him right away. A better man. We had another sleepover at Jana's place - Ronnie included. We'd never stay at my place because I had the habit of leaving the toilet seat up, and Ronnie owned a tarantula plus a boa constrictor. Jana wouldn't tolerate much...but expected us to put up with her quirks. Like "Grease" and now "Xanadu". Dear God. She and Ronnie seemed to dig that movie for various reasons. They kept trying to convince me that terrible films with huge budgets and big stars were a valid art form. We were drinking some fancy wine made from pears - I think. Is that even possible? "I mean - you can just taste and smell all the cocaine involved with filming this shit. There were writers still working on the script while the cameras were rolling!" Ronnie was sitting on the floor with me. I like floor people. Jana was lounging on her huge leather sofa like Cleopatra. "It was the last great gasp of the 70's. It's a moment worth cherishing!" I was not in the mood for this bullshit. "A shitty movie is just a shitty movie, ladies. I saw "Flash Dance" at a pivotal time in my life but I don't feel a deep need to relive it a thousand times! Christ!" Ronnie paused the movie and looked at Jana. "It's time, Honey." They helped me up to the couch. Uh oh. This was serious. "OK," Jana said solemnly "We were going to wait until we finished the wine, but now is as good a time as any..." "You two bitches have been talking about me?! I don't need this bullshit. I'm leaving NOW!" Ronnie put her hand on my knee...a tender thing she'd never done before. "I drove you here. Remember? We're just concerned...you've been on this 24 hour bummer for too long, Brian. It's become exhausting for us. Can you just listen for a minute?" I really wanted to say 'no' and keep my bad mood but I was trapped. "Yeah. But no more conspiring. OK?" Jana put her head on my shoulder. Her hair smelled like expensive raspberry jam. "We've reached our limit, Brian. There's nothing left for either of us to say. You need to talk to a professional. I see a therapist and I really think she could help you too. Her name is Deb and she's very good. She takes our insurance plan and you'll only have to shell out for a small copay. I trust her." What could I say? Something did need to change. It was worth a shot. "Will you go with me?" She kissed my cheek and then so did Ronnie. "Of course! She's a counselor and a really good friend. We go out for drinks and dinner all the time! You will just love her! I'm going to go call her right now!" Off she went, leaving Ronnie and I on the couch. She was wearing an over-sized Johnny Rotten t-shirt that I secretly coveted. "Have you seen her before? This Deb woman?" "No. Well, I met her once. Complete and total Earth Mother. I tend not to mesh with that type. Doesn't mean she's not good at her job -- I just, I don't know. I mean, it couldn't hurt just to talk to her, right?" "I guess not. Thanks." "No problem. Want to help me hide that tape somewhere?" Evil grin. Jana came bounding back into the room with a happy bounce. "She'll see you on Tuesday at 6 PM. We'll go after work. That's it for details. She was up communing with the moon or Venus or something." uh oh I drank the rest of that bottle of pear wine all by myself. Jana complained about cramps and went to bed early. Ronnie and I felt like unsupervised children. We found a pay-per-view zombie movie on TV and smoked a little hash. "So what's up with Anika?" "Who? Oh. She left town all the sudden. I think it was something to do with a kid she had when she was 16 that's in the legal custody of one of her sisters." "Do you miss her?" "Not especially. I'm only a part-time gay." I'd never heard of such a thing. "Lucky! I was as given a full-time position - the workload is killing me. Did I say that out loud or just think it?" She laughed. "Oh Pumpkin! Is this all about that guy? That 'Ted'? What'd the deal with him?" "I don't know. I don't. He was so perfect and now I've lost his phone number. He wasn't even available. His lover died of AIDS. Don't tell Jana. I think he might also have it, but he looked healthy. Don't tell Jana." Her look changed. I'd said too much and now she would probably wake up Jana and tell her everything. On the TV screen in front of us, some muscle dude split a zombie's head in half with a shovel. I could relate to that feeling somehow. "Even though I look great in black, I don't want to attend your funeral any time soon. Wait...are you a chaser?" "Huh?" Her face was looking like Tetris and I was trying to make it fit together. I'm pretty sure hash and I would never be friends. "Are you a bug chaser? I always forget how new you are, Brian. Those are guys who are turned on by the idea of getting HIV from fucking. Is that you?" "NO! Not at all. The weirdest thing I want to do is kiss his feet, suck his toes." "Ewwwww!! I've heard of men being into women's feet, but never that. I've met every freak in the city and that's a new one. You need to discuss it with Deb. Maybe she knows what's up with that." "Yeah. Does it seem to you like this room is full of old bottles? Like, from the 1930's? I sense old bottles everywhere." "Maybe it's for the best that you're not with him. Maybe a part of you was smart enough to lose his number because calling him would lead nowhere good." Let's just say she wasn't the only woman in the city who thought the universe had done me a favor by severing the brief connection I had made with Ted. The crazy hippie therapist Jana dragged me to thought my 'higher self' was keeping me safe. That Deb bitch was crazy. There wasn't one New Age theory she didn't embrace fully embrace. Past lives, Eastern medicine, gem therapy, Native American spirits, dream interpretation, Taro cards, runes...you name it. I kept going back to see her for probably the same reason Jana did: She let me get away with anything and didn't judge my shitty behavior, Nothing was my fault. The universe was to blame. The only useful thing I got from Deb was the habit of writing in a journal daily. It's because of that habit that I remember all the details for this next chapter.... 6. HAVING SEX WITH EVERYONE EXCEPT TED Now we finally get to the good stuff. I started what I now I refer to as 'My Slut Era'. Getting laid and getting drunk the only things I cared about. I just missed out on a promotion at work because I was usually too hungover or too butt sore to do my job with the same flair as I had before...before I started chasing every dick in town. The upstairs neighbor I didn't even have to leave my own apartment building to lose my virginity. I often ran into Lex in the elevator and at the mailboxes in the lobby. He was a cute little gay guy That had assumed I was straight until one night when we ended up giving each other serious hickeys in the parking garage. My hunger for sex was obvious all over our necks for the next couple of days. It got more and more intense every time we were together. He was only about 5'6" or so, but he took care of his body. Hairy chest. His dick was nice sized and uncut. He was some kind of find -- or so I thought. There something troubling about him. I really liked sucking him off, but he wouldn't cum in my mouth even though I really wanted him to. I kept pestering him until he finally told me he'd never been tested for HIV. He was too scared. "What would I even do if it came back positive?" Well... I didn't know what to tell him. I had always just assumed getting tested was part of gay life and that wasn't likely to change any time soon. I was biding my time until we'd try the butt stuff. I was the one who brought it up first. "I've got some condoms and this new tube of lubricant." He didn't say anything. We were lying in my bed, watching "The Real World" and I just wouldn't let the matter rest. I pulled him on top of me and we kissed passionately. I reached for the box in my nightstand drawer. "Want to put one on?" He smiled and nodded quickly. Cute. So he fucked me right there on my new sheets. It really didn't hurt too much because he was so, so gentle and let me set the pace. I'd also used nearly half the lube on us. Problem: It just wasn't as hot as I wanted it to be. He wasn't into dirty talk, saying not much except 'your ass feels so good'. Maybe if he'd been a little more dominant. Oh well - he'd popped my cherry and I guess that meant we were officially boyfriends and would eventually become 'life partners'. I wanted to take his last name and let him fuck me every night That contented, domestic feeling lasted for almost six whole days before I started having doubts. He was just so meek. ..and he talked all the time. He told me about how he and his two older brothers used to all have sex together in the the same bed when he was a kid. It occurred to me that he might have more baggage than I'd have room for in my tidy little life. I finally decided he wasn't worth giving up other possibilities for. I needed something better than Lex. We drifted apart gradually - only to get back together a few times. I treated him like shit and didn't feel all that bad. Nothing was my fault. the upstairs neighbor's best friend I'd seen Tony around many times before. He and Lex hung out a lot, went to the gym together, etc. He was kinda cute in an exotic sort of way. I never even saw him naked. We just ended up making out in the laundry room once and Lex caught us. My rotten luck. They worked it out somehow but I was not forgiven. They each eventually moved out of the building which solved problems for all of us. I never saw nor heard from either of them again. Whatever. the dancer/stripper/escort/porn star I finally went to a bar by myself. Ronnie told me I should try a place called "Backstage" because it was just a regular gay club where regular gays went. I went there on a Saturday night that also happened to be Halloween and the end of daylight savings time which meant the place would stay open until 4 AM. It was a fun crowd and lots of guys were in costume. I wore a black shirt which was my only nod to the holiday. Most people seemed friendly and the music was pretty good. I just drank Bud Light and waited to be noticed. When a dozen hunks didn't immediately run over to pursue me, I just sat at a table by myself and pouted. Couldn't they see how great I was?? I must have been on my fifth bottle of beer when somebody finally emerged from the shadows and sat down next to me. He was tall, blonde, maybe mid-30's, and wearing braces. Not bad looking, really. He introduced himself as "Rick" which I later discovered was just one of the many names he used - depending on the situation (more on that later). We made the smallest of small talk as the crowd thinned out a bit. He asked if I wanted to come home with him and see the new litter of puppies his chihuahua had. He raised and sold them as a 'side business', I followed him in my car. He'd claimed he was a 'property owner' but he should have just said 'slumlord' because his building was a dump. Oh well. I'd seen worse, I guess. The inside wasn't so bad and not at all what I'd expected. First thing I noticed was a giant vase full of peacock feathers - just like my grandmother had. She was 85. He turned on the stereo and invited me to sit on the floor with him. It was a strange mix tape and he casually mentioned that he sometimes worked as an erotic dancer and was always looking for new songs. I mentally went through a list of songs in my collection that I thought a male stripper might dig. A week or so later, I brought over "Peek-A-Boo" by Siouxsie & The Banshees (a group I'd discovered in college). I remember sitting in roughly the same spot on the floor as he played the tape and tried dancing to it. I was embarrassed for both of us. He asked if I wanted to smoke some weed and I declined. After that recent hash experience where I saw old bottles and carnival glass all night, I was done with smoking any sort of herb. He would later tell me that my weed refusal was inspiring to him. ??? He started rubbing a hand up and down my thigh and I guess the mating ritual had begun. We got naked right there in his living room. Let me just say that he had the biggest, most impressive penis in the world. What I was seeing just didn't seem possible. I mean, I couldn't even fit it all into my range of vision from this close. GIANT! This is a quick sketch I made not long after my first night with Rick. Doesn't really do it justice "Go ahead and touch it if you want." I knelt down on the floor as he stood just inches away from me. I felt it with respect and care with my fingertips which just made it thicker and heavier and I finally just kissed the purple head. There was already some slime leaking from the slit. It tasted sweet. "Yeah!! Can you suck it a little?" I tried. I really did. But I got the head in my mouth and not much more. It was a piece of equipment that could not be properly cared for by someone like me. My lust wanted to take it the way down my throat and into my lungs. Rick seemed happy that I was making an honest effort. I let my fingers feel his toes. I still hadn't fully explored this foot fetish of mine with Deb, but knew I should. I guess there was no time to think about that now, with an 11 inch, fat cock hanging in front of my face. What that the hell was I going to do with this thing?? I guess Rick would teach me. Soon. He led me upstairs as I realized I never did get to see the puppies. My host had a very nice ass. I wanted to touch and kiss that too! His bedroom was super dark. I always slept with some kind of light on. Deb seemed to think it was because I'd been molested as a child, but I'm pretty certain that never happened. I let him lead me to the bed -- which was massive and so, so comfortable. Unmade. Over the years I'd have sex in many unmade beds - but I always made sure my own was made each morning. He wanted to fuck me with no protection, but I just couldn't. Wouldn't. He reluctantly found a condom and put it over that massive tool of his. He then started licking and french-kissing my asshole. Panic! Had I taken a shit before or after my shower? I didn't remember. I sorta didn't like him doing this. The sensation was nice, but the idea of it was all too wrong. Shouldn't I be licking HIS ass? Shouldn't he be sitting on my face? I had so much gay to learn. Seriously...I wanted him to stop. I didn't like being pleasured when I wanted to give all the pleasure. Let's just say it didn't go very well. His dick was just too big. That thing belonged in a museum - not in some helpless rectum. I tried my best to assure him the spirit was willing and so forth, but I think he was still pretty salty at being asked to wear a condom. I guess nobody had ever asked him before which was troubling in a whole new way. We slept together in the dark and parted in the morning. I didn't have high hopes for a future with him. But he called later in the day. "Good morning, Brian. Happy Halloween!"(it was noon on November 1st) "Yeah. It was yesterday but that's okay. Thanks. Sorry about last night, Rick." He paused, probably to make sure that was the name he'd used. "No. I'm the one who should apologize. It was not okay for me to act that way with you. We probably should have talked more first. You just turned me on so much and I was trying to force something on you that you clearly weren't ready for. Can we start over?" "Sure." I really wanted a relationship that lasted longer than a day, a week. "Great. I need to go to the mall today. Want to come with me?" I did. Around that time in the 90's, giant malls were in the final stages of their glory days. You could still spend a whole day in one. No empty stores. No Libertarian headquarters. We ended up genuinely liking to spend time together. We saw "The Accused" in the theater (not really a great date movie), we went out to dinner, and he even took me to some pretty fancy parties where I got to meet some high-profile people. But we never got the intercourse problem solved. He insisted on not wearing a condom. "It'll go in so much easier for both of us without a rubber. It's like taking a shower with a raincoat on. Know what I mean?". He also refused to get tested. He claimed he was 100% certain he didn't have any diseases. '"Then why not get tested, Rick?" "Because I might get a false positive -- and that would ruin my life. I'm a businessman and need to stay motivated, excited about the future.'' OK. Flawed logic, but OK. We reached an impasse. I wouldn't get fucked without a condom and he just wouldn't wear one. We did other stuff and still thought of ourselves as 'boyfriends'. I thought that eventually I'd convinced him to get tested and he thought I might get horny enough to let him go inside me bareback. We did lots of oral stuff in the meantime and I thought that would last. But... But one night he decided to whip us up a pitcher (or three) of margaritas. I'd never had them before. Good shit! He also convinced me to finally get high with him. I should have kept my wits about me. I really should have. But it was a fun night and I liked being around him. I'd brought over a bunch of CDs that I thought he might like. His stereo system was excellent. I remember not being able to tell if the music was too loud or too soft...which should have been a warning sign. I remember him admitting that he was basically a stripper who did 'other things' as part of that profession. He was basically admitting he was a prostitute. He also claimed he'd made some porn videos in San Diego. I think I asked if he'd give me an autographed copy of one of them. I think he promised he would. I also think I gave him a foot massage but that might not have happened. Probably the last thing I remember is getting under the covers of his bed and him saying something about it not even being midnight yet. And the rest is a blank. It was morning. A few strands of bright AM sunlight found their way through his closed blinds. I'd just had a dream about being on a sinking boat. The water was strangely warm and I was all wet. A sliver of wood or a nail had stabbed me in the gut and I was going to die. Wait! No! I was awake! And that fucker was on top of me with his too big dick in my ass! He was either raping me or already had. It hurt like a mother and I yelled. Loudly! "Get the fuck off of me!! WHAT have you DONE??!! ASSHOLE! You slipped me something!!...you did something!!....I'M CALLING THE POLICE!" He looked like he'd just woken up too and was confused as well. He looked frightened by my fury. I found my clothes downstairs and got dressed. I bled all over his carpeting which had seen better days anyway. Fuck that shady bastard. Fresh air! I wasn't dead and could still breathe in this chilly Autumn air into my functional lungs. I had that at least. I was walking on some really uneven pavement. That was also good. I drove to Rick's but didn't feel like I could trust myself behind the wheel right now. Who knows how much blood I'd already lost. Plus the various chemicals in my bloodstream. As my head cleared, I puzzled out the previous night. He didn't drug me. I drank way too much -- which was becoming a pattern with me. I made that decision as well just like when I willfully accepted hits from his bong. I'd put myself in a vulnerable place. He made the decision to use that for his own purposes. I guess I'd get AIDS now. Plus every disease those hookers on "Cops" usually had. Sadly, my only thought right then was how much I needed a drink. I kind of knew this neighborhood. It wasn't so far from my apartment. I know I'd been down this street. I think. Thankfully I was wearing black jeans because otherwise the blood would be obvious and some cop would stop and think I was in danger. Oh I was! But not immediate danger. I turned down the street which had a name I recognized. OK. I wasn't lost. And there it was - a bar I'd never noticed it before. It was called "Pals". It was open and there was rainbow sticker in the window. I had to wonder who in the world would come to a bar at 7:40 AM on a Sunday morning. Oh right -- alcoholics. I'd fallen pretty far in the past year. Fuck it. I went inside and it was almost empty except for the bartender and one other customer. I got good feelings from this place. The bartender was a super skinny guy who was probably in his 40's. "Rough Night?" "You have no idea!" I sat at the bar and immediately felt a needle-like pain in my ass. I winced. "Honey -- we've all had nights like that. My name is Sammy. What can I get you? Want our Sunday Brunch Special? A bloody mary and a pitcher of domestic beer for five bucks." "Perfect!" He walked away to make the drink and I glanced over at the other guy at the bar. He was maybe in his late 60's and very, very drunk. He was either sleeping or dead. I mean, his forehead was almost on top of the bar. "That's James," Sammy said. "He's the mayor's brother if you can believe that shit." I believed all shit now. Every last turd that life had laid and would lay again. "Extra 'mary', please...or extra 'bloody'...whatever the booze part is. "Will do. I used a dill slice instead of a celery because you need the electrolytes." Perfect. Once it all arrived I no longer wanted a whole pitcher of beer. I needed to pay anyway -- but the wallet was in my back pocket and I didn't want to go near my ass. It was bloody and gross back there. No way was I touching my backside. "Sammy...I...it's just that my wallet is ...it's all bloody and -" "Forget it! New customers get the first round free. I'm the day manager here and I decide who qualifies. Hell - I'm the night manager too, I guess. I'm not the owner, but I sleep with him." "What's his name?" "Lester...but he has a big dick. People think his name means he is some hick with a tiny penis - but that is NOT the case." I'd reached my lifetime limit of big dicks. At least the smaller guys couldn't almost kill you. "Want my beer? I don't think I can handle it right now. The bloody mary is good though." He brought out the full jar of dill wedges and a bag of chips. "Eat. I can order a pizza from Pyramid...they're open already." He took a long, lusty swallow of the beer and I dug into the chips. "Want to talk about what happened?" "I was raped." He put the beer down. "By WHO?! WHERE?! I can call the cops if you want. I have a gun in the safe and will go kill the guy myself!" "No. No. I just got too drunk and smoked some herb...I'm the one to blame here. I've been making some awful decisions lately." "Doesn't mean we can't still kill him." He grinned a little. Drama diffused. "You can get AIDS from just one time, right? I'd only been fucked a few times in the past year. And I really bled a lot." "You can. I mean, it's possible. But not probable. Does he have the virus for sure?" "He said he didn't know, but told me he was pretty sure he didn't." "OK. Did he come in you?" "I have no idea. He was still hard inside of me when I realized it was happening. "So there's a chance he hadn't come yet. And there's a chance he wasn't infected in the first place...and even if he was, you don't know what his viral level is. Lot's of things have to come together in just the right way at just the right time for this virus to pass from person to another successfully. It's harder to get AIDS than people think. In fact - it's easier for a woman to get pregnant. My sister and her husband took over ten months of nonstop fucking before she got knocked up. My nonprofessional opinion is that you're probably fine. Get tested in a month and then in another month after that. Just for your peace of mind." I felt better. I ate the entire bag of chips as Sammy kept pouring me free drinks. I'd come back here soon and leave him a hundred dollar tip. Maybe even later today. "I can't believe how close I live to here and never even knew this placed existed." "Lester won't spend a dime on advertising. He believes that good service is the best way to keep good customers coming back." "Well, you've got a customer for life here now...and I'll be a walking neon billboard for 'Pals'." "Great. But you need to take care of yourself right now. Go home, take a long hot bath and then sleep all day. Eat a steak tonight if you can, Build up your iron and sodium levels. Maybe take a few days off from work. Abstain from letting anything near your ass while it heals. In tens days, you'll be tight as a virgin again." That was good. I'd been afraid I'd be ruined for good and no man (no Ted) would ever want to fuck me again. "When are you here, Sammy?" "Always! We hired a new guy but he lasted all of four hours." "I'll be back soon. Thanks for everything." I turned to leave. "Oh, Brian -- " "Yeah?" "Think about something, anything else for a while. Worrying won't help. And consider that maybe it all went down differently than you think. Hell, I've gone to bed totally wasted and started fucking some young guy while I was still mostly asleep. I was just hard and putting in the nearest warm hole. Poor kid freaked out a little and I was just like 'huh'? I'm not saying he's not a bad guy -- but maybe he's not as bad as you think." 7. HEALING ... FOR TED'S SAKE. AND THEN FAILING HIM AGAIN I had so many messages on my machine when I got home. the first was from Jana: "Where are you, Brian? You never call me anymore." (not now, dear) from Ronnie: "What's up? Jesus - will you please call Jana so she will quit bugging me. Did you find Ted or are you still with the stripper guy? I still want to meet him." (no way) from Deb's assistant: "Hi Brian. It's Laura. Deb wants to know if you can change your Tuesday appointment to 7 instead of 6. Call the number." (I'd just cancel) from my dad (!): "It's your father. Remember you need to renew the tags on your car before the month is over. Mom sends her love." (that's a new one) from Rick (!): "I'm really sorry, Brian. I still don't know what happened. Your car is safe. I won't have it towed. You can come get it anytime or I can bring it to you. Call me. I'm so sorry." (I needed a day or two before I could deal with this) from my boss: "Hi - it's Marcus. Sorry to call so early on a weekend morning. I'm just letting you know that there was a major water leak in our building and everything in the office is ruined and it will take several days to open our floor. Fucking Christ, I'm taking the family to the Ozarks. Enjoy your surprise vacation! Later." (sometimes the universe pays you back for a really shitty evening) I took a hot shower and cleaned every trace of that night away, being extra careful around my damaged anus which was still raw and throbbing. I retrieved the cash and cards (mercifully free of blood from my ruined wallet that I'd replace with the new one Jana had given me (she thought the one I had looked cheap). I had a three hour nap and woke up feeling new. I needed to make a call. Now. "Hello?" "Hi." "Oh my God! Brian?! I am so so so so sorry. I would never hurt you on purpose - I hope you at least know that much." "I don't know what I know right now...or what I think, Rick. But i need my car. If you drive it over, I will give you a ride back to your place." "Sure! Give me a few minutes. I've been painting some property and need to change." "Fine. I'll be waiting out in front of the building." CLICK It was a wonderful, crisp November early evening/late afternoon. I sat on the little iron bench in front of my building and watched people walking their dogs. Lots of dog owners in this neighborhood. I breathed in deeply and made plans. I needed to fix my life (again). I'd find a better therapist who would help me in real ways -- not just listen and allow me to make excuses for my shitty behavior. I needed to understand my need for sex and my weird kinks...and eliminate them. I'd go to A.A. (Ronnie knew people who were in recovery) I'd stop leading such a sordid life and totally get back on track. I would totally get the next promotion that came along and make huge paychecks like Jana did. Things were going to be different now. Startin-n-n-g-g-g...NOW. NOW!! And there was my car, looking way cleaner and fresher than I remember. Either he'd washed it or I was just seeing it with new eyes. I hopped up and ran over to it. I got in and sat next to the guy who might have infected me with AIDS. I wasn't that same man now. "You want to take the wheel? I can just drive us back and then you can take it home. Whatever you want." "Just drive, Rick." I'd keep my cards close to my vest just now. "It's kind of warm for this time of year. I was painting with the windows open and actually broke out into a sweat. I'm so relieved you're letting me do this for you, Brian." We were close to a steakhouse called The Yard that was sort of famous in the area. "Turn here. I haven't eaten much today." He did, parked. "Want me to just wait here while you eat? I didn't even bring my wallet." "No. Come with me. I'll buy." What was I doing? Asking to be violated again? No. I trusted the new person I'd become to know what to do...to be smarter than the old me. He was silently shocked. The place was packed, but Rick knew somebody there and we got a table within minutes. A client? I wondered. I wanted something, anything medium-rare. Bloody. T-bone maybe. I told him to get anything he wanted because I was just grateful my car was OK. The waitresses 'Kendra' arrived to take our drink orders. "I'll have a bloody mary - extra heavy on the hot sauce." I guess the new me could still drink socially if he wanted. Rick just ordered the same -- minus the hot sauce. "This is all surprising to me, Brian. Penny for your thoughts." "It's all OK. You'll need about a million pennies to hear them all." "I'm good for it." "Well, first -- I'm going to get tested in a month and you will too. We're going together." "Yes. I will do it. I owe you at least that much." "Secondly -- I want to know what you remember about last night. Go back as early as you can...because I can't remember very much." "Do you remember when you were trying to convince me I should try stripping to 'Born to Hand Jive'. You thought it would be brilliant if I could hand jive with my dick out. And then you tried to teach me how to do it and kept messing up. It was funny. We were getting so drunk." "Wow. I don't remember that part at all." "And then I remember you giving me this wonderful foot massage which was so unexpected and felt amazing. Then you just gave total attention to my feet -- licking and sucking and kissing. Nobody had ever done that for me before. Not even my ex-wife. I can still feel it even now. Seriously." "I remember some of that." The new me wasn't into feet. It was too weird. 'Oh man...I'd love for you to do that again!" I never will, buddy. Never. "Yeah, yeah. What else?" "Don't get mad - but you were super horny after that. I guess it's a fetish you have. It got me horny too. We were all over each other...and naked. You actually sucked me to the point that I think I was close to coming. I mean -- you were a pro. There are porn actors out there who couldn't take as much of my dick as you did." "Really?? I don't remember that at all. Did you come?" "No. I think I was too wasted because I got soft and that disappointed you. You kept saying you wanted me to shoot a load in you. And then you just went to sleep on the floor. I had to wake you up enough to get you into bed. The very last thing I remember was how good it felt to have you in my arms. It was perfect. That's all I remember. And then I woke up to you yelling. I swear that's all the information I can give you. But, Brian...? "Yeah?" "It's still my fault. You are not to blame for any of that." "I willingly got very wasted and apparently very horny. I have to share the blame." "No. I should have put the brakes on when I realized how out of it you were getting. I'm older and more experienced. You were raped...plain and simple. If I had a daughter and she got herself in the same situation - I would have killed the guy." I probably shouldn't mention Sammy and his loaded gun. That was that. We ate in pleasant peace and I drove him home. "It's still nice out. Want to go sit on my porch for a while?" "Sure." If that sounds like a terrible idea to you, imagine what I was feeling. He had a recently restored railing on his porch and a nice bench that looked new. I wondered if he built it himself...he had carpenter's hands. "Thanks for dinner, Brian. I haven't had a steak in forever." "No problem." I don't know where this forgiveness came from. It wasn't like me. The old me could hold a grudge for decades. He produced a fat joint from somewhere and lit it. No way was I touching pot for a long, long time. The new me didn't do drugs. "My mattress is completely ruined, if it makes you feel any better." "Aww. It does. Thanks." He laughed and kicked off his sneakers. No socks. Rick then propped his bare feet up on the railing. He knew what he was doing, I knew what he was doing and I'm pretty sure he knew that I knew what he was doing. He was the first man who tried to seduce me with his bare feet but he wouldn't be the last. I needed this test, I guess. "You crack me up. I'll have to pay a couple of my guys to go dump it illegally." "Tell 'em to burn it as well. Probably looks like somebody was murdered there." I really had bled a lot. I threw away those brand new jeans away already. "If I end up mysteriously murdered somewhere and they find that mattress - you'll be a suspect. You won't believe what forensic science is capable of these days." "Yeah..and,,." the weed was already having its way with him. Must be good shit. One toke wouldn't hurt the new me. The new me could do things in moderation. So we shared the doobie and talked about stupid stuff like nothing traumatic had ever happened in the last 24 hours. My eyes stayed on his toes as he curled and flexed them. Hypnotic. There was a fleck of emerald green paint on the edge of his big toenail. Green was a lucky color. Right at that second, his automatic porch light came on, putting us in a very harsh, indiscreet spotlight. Instinctively, we moved inside without saying anything. The couch had a pillow and blanket messily arranged on it. I guess he took a nap there today. He lied back on the couch and asked for another foot massage. The new me was not so new because I went to work right away. His feet weren't as big as Ted's but at least a size 12 regardless. I rubbed, massaged, probed and got a boner as he moaned with pleasure. The new/old me went ahead and kissed the big toes. We all know where this was going. While I was looking and licking, he'd freed his own full-erect penis from the fly of his out-of-style white jeans. If we're being honest here (and that is what I'm trying to be with this story), that legendary meat was the only reason I'd agreed to ever be around him in the first place. You can only imagine its glory, friends. Seriously. I never even hesitated as I moved to take it in my mouth. It turns out I really was a pro at sucking dick. I took more of that thing than you'd think a human was capable of. Fuck it. There was no new me. I wanted his cum in my throat this time...and whatever came with that sperm was worth it. There would always be time later for consequences. This time he really did cum for sure. The majority of it went down my throat, untasted -- but I got to savor a few drops on my tongue. It had a harsher taste than I would have imagined. For future reference for guys who like being blown: Avoid red meat, alcohol,coffee and salt. It didn't matter to me then, but I would later think of his cum as the worst I'd ever tasted. I knew Ted's cum would be sweet nectar but he was on Jupiter somewhere I suppose. I didn't even bother beating off. I would later. "You are the most surprising guy on Earth, Brian." Not really, as it turns out. "I mean, two hours ago we were talking about getting tested for AIDS and then...." "Sorry. There's something about you, Rick." your cock "Want to start over? Pretend like we just met?" "That's a great idea. But not right now. I need to do some stuff tonight." He looked a little hurt. "Well...I guess we could meet up tomorrow sometime." "Yeah. Do you know if I can get something 'to go' from The Yard? I want to stop there and get some more food." "You can. Want me to call for you?" "Yeah." I wanted to bring something to Sammy. The guy did not eat properly and I owed him big time. A steak would probably too hard for him to eat while tending bar -- something really hearty he could munch here and there. Fries suck when they get cold. Think, think. "OK. What do you want? They're waiting." "Prime rib sandwich - like a french dip. Horseradish on the side. No fries. Ask if they can substitute a side salad instead instead." Yep OK 'Brian'." He hung up the phone. "It'll be 25 minutes." "Perfect." "Since we just met....can we kiss a little?" And that's what we did. I was a little surprised he wanted to kiss me with his semen still in my mouth. It was maybe the most romantic few minutes of my life. He mentioned something about how he wasn't looking forward to the next day because he was going to be doing roof work for hours. He emphasized that he'd be ON HIS FEET for hours. Well I offered to give him a really good foot massage so he'd be prepared for the labor. "I mean, it's a weird thing to offer on a first date, but I've got about fifteen minutes to kill. I mean -- unless you think that's too weird. Never mind." "That would be so perfect -- Brian was it? -- I had a great foot rub recently and it did wonders." And you can guess the rest. I got up to leave. It was fully night now. Chillier. I have no idea what would have happened if I'd stayed the night. I was now a professional dick-sucker, foot massage artist...and not too shabby at role-playing. Time to go. "Hey, Brian...." "Yeah?" "This was the best first date I've ever had." I winked and left. I took the food to Pals (with five twenties stacked on top of the salad) and Sammy was there. He was wearing the same clothes as this morning. Poor guy. He needed somebody to take care of him -- the Lester guy wasn't doing the job very well. It was still early in the evening --the crowd was sparse. I needed to think of a way to to help the business. Somehow. I needed to think - but needed a drink first. 8. STILL NO TED IN SIGHT Sammy and I became became the best of friends, Jana who? The same old me was back -- but maybe a little more open. (and not just to cock) I had entered one of the early stages of alcoholism. I went to Pals almost every night after work and stayed until I stumbled three blocks home. Sammy was a better therapist than Deb could ever hope to be. It feels good to talk - just talk, QUICK EDIT: Sometimes it helps to just have somebody hear you. Feel free to contact me through this site...I know what it's like to need a friend when things are in a very bad place.. I'm not exactly the person who appears in these stories. OK? He never asked about my "rapist" and I never talked about that again. Rick and I were seeing each other pretty regularly -- doing everything except fucking. That's a good thing because I was healed up but starting to have rape fantasies. (!) Don't judge! I wanted him to fuck me so deeply that we could make a baby together. I felt a need to bleed! Why? I'd neglected Deb and Jana for so long. Ronnie and I still hung out, but she was into men now and always doing 'stuff'. "You are looking so much better these days, Brian. New diet?" He was kidding. You just have to know Sammy. We were doing shots with some random guy who had this armpit odor that was turning me on. New fetishes were emerging almost daily. I swear. I would consider a threesome with smelly guy and Sammy -- that's how drunk I was. My libido was somewhat out of control back then. Remember being 27? Armpit guy left and Sammy and I were just alone there. "Am I ever going to meet Lester?" "Yeah. He wants to meet you too. I told him about you, what a special customer you are." I hated that I always looked at him sexually. He had a small frame, and seemed like a total bottom. But.... "Do you think that guy was a hustler? That B.O. guy?" "Not sure. They tend to end up on Congress street where the bus station is. There's a few bars there that are very vagrant-friendly. Lester won't have them here -- but I welcome all. Like the Statue of Liberty. Hey -- are you ready for next week?" "Huh?" "It will soon be 30 days from that morning you showed up here after sex with the jerk who left you all bloody. Remember?" "Oh yeah." I barely remembered. I still had the smell of him on my shirt from earlier today. He'd been using paint thinner or varnish or something and reeked of it as I serviced his feet and cock. "You'll be OK. Want me to write down the address for you?" "It's the place next to that 7-11 -- with the bullet holes in the glass, right?" "Yep. Want me to go with you? It;s free...and you can give always give a fake name." "I think I'm ready to take this on alone, but thanks." What I needed to do was circle back around with Rick about all this again. We hadn't even mentioned it since that first discussion at The Yard. And to think I was all ready to live a completely celibate life that night. At least what we'd been doing wasn't all that risky when it was looked at scientifically. I didn't have bleeding gums and knew better than to brush my teeth right before one of our 'dates'. I was just so addicted to his dick and his cum. And I liked him. Genuinely liked being around him. He was basically a big ol' stoner who had some secrets I knew better than to pry into. What I loved about Pals was that it was like a home base for me now. I found a 'community' there. I met folks who were worthy even if they didn't exactly give that impression at first. I'd be so lost without this place. I was drawing a lot back then and had written and sketched some ideas to give this place a little publicity. My first idea was a new logo -- for the front of the building, business cards, matchbooks,and t-shirts. It was kinda fashionable for guys around my age to wear random tees under sports jackets. I made sure Sammy could me up with a time to meet casually with Lester. I had more ideas about this business for which he was not giving enough care. My opinions were the only ones that counted back then - remember? Here's a rough logo design I came up with: very early, very rough logo I made with markers and paper. Computer tools were not at my disposal at the time. A cleaner version was made and is still in use today. Sammy loved it and immediately set up a meeting between his Lester one early afternoon. He was an old fucker. I'd guess 67 - 70-ish. Not in the greatest of health and a chain-smoker. He could still out-drink anybody. "It's a little hard to read. But I still like it. The 'L' looks like a big penis." "Exactly. I'm a little sick of all the sterile, corporate 80's designs that are still around. This place is unique, human and invites a second look." "I know what them symbols mean. It means 'male', right? It does. I like the dick you put in there -- not too obvious." It was based on Rick's cock but I didn't mention that. "I'd wear this t-shirt, Lester. I know a guy who screen-prints shirts and stuff. He lives in my building. You could sell them here." "Sure, sure. Sounds great. I'll pay you for the design OR offer you another deal. I can offer you the opportunity to be an investor in this place...as well of some pother bars I own. They are just breaking even and I need somebody with fresh ideas as a partner. As long as you keep on thinking like this, keep giving me young ideas, I'll let you buy in for......100, 000 dollars. " I was not a businessman, but couldn't let him know that right then. "50,000 $ + all my ideas -- for a 20% stake." We kept negotiating until a deal was made. I basically drained the modest trust fund my favorite grandfather had left me and added all the money I was able to borrow against the profit sharing account from work. Also my savings account. I'd been saving for a nicer car - but this was a better investment. I thought so, at least. I hated my corporate job. It just didn't leave enough time for fucking and relaxing. We toasted the deal...many times with many shots. My tolerance for alcohol was becoming alarmingly high. I had almost no limit these days. Rick had even mentioned it offhand. He had has his own demons and was in no place to judge. As exciting as all this was - I knew I needed to get tested for the HIV antibodies. Rick agreed to come with me but needed to get stoned out of his mind first. I wasn't looking forward to this, but getting high didn't seem like a good idea to me -- not at all. I signed in as "Danny Zuko" while Rick could only come up with "Abe Lincoln". Oh well. He tried. We couldn't go into the same room together to get blood drawn which scared him. A very pregnant Asian woman took my sample with latex gloves on her tiny hands. The counselor had a bad cold but relayed all the information she had to and loaded me up with free condoms, lube samples and as many pamphlets as she could fit in a plastic bag. Rick had her as well. It was done. Four days passed. Danny was negative while Abe was positive. Fuck! Poor guy. He fell apart. "What do I do now?? I'm doomed, Brian!! I hate you for making me do this!!! I should shoot myself tonight. When will I start getting those spots? And pneumonia? You won't want to be around me anymore, will you?" His hurt was killing me. "You're wrong! Rick -- I'm in this for the long haul. I will be here for you no matter what. Night and day. You're just carrying around antibodies for a disease you don't have now. There are new treatments now. Science has really improved these days. Clinton is fully behind funding more research. AIDS won't be a death sentence much longer -- it'll be more like high blood pressure or diabetes very soon. I'm here. Let's get you home." I never got a chance to celebrate my negative status, I got him into his bed and covered him with the new comforter I'd bought from Macy's. I had this real need to take care of him. "Brian? Will you hold me?" Sure. A nap sounded good. I wasn't going to work much these days (I was on the verge of quitting, but would get a nice severance if they cut me). I took my shoes off and climbed in next to him. I hugged him hard as he cried himself to sleep. The new mattress (another gift from me) was super comfortable and we snoozed. Was it "love" that kept me there? Or just something close to it? I still had regular sessions with Rick...mostly foot rubs, but also swallowing his infected loads. But now I was dealing with a new career. My boss's boss offered me a consultant job. Perfect. I'd make the same money but didn't have to shave and dress up every day 9 to 5. "You're our going to be our idea man, Brian. The world web - or whatever it's called - is here and we need to be on top of that. We'll get you set up with all that. Don't go to a competitor and we'll treat you right." He wore a bow tie (with a grasshopper pattern), but I accepted the offer. It never occurred to me tell Jana about all this. Rumor was that she'd been headhunted by some big firm in California. The other rumor was her having a big good-bye party at a trendy restaurant and I was not invited. Neither was Ronnie (who was still into men, but never the same one). She was my closest gal pal now and I showered her with generous gifts too. I bought her an exotic scorpion (alive) and a big aquarium to keep it in. She was happy to get meet him that she screamed! She gave him some Aztec name I never bothered asking about. Life was really good. I hoped Ted's life was good too - but he was too big a thought to fit into my brain these days. I was always thinking and drawing and coming up with ideas. I met with Lester weekly and we discussed more things we could start doing to make money. The t-shirts were a big hit, and I wore one almost every day. I guess it was my way of 'coming out' - even though I'd never officially been in the closet really. I brought Ronnie to Pals one night and she was a big hit. A few us regulars decided we needed to write a one woman show for her. She was psyched about the idea. I even convinced Rick to make his comeback as an erotic dancer. This all meant spending money on a stage, better lighting and sound. Lester always looked severely constipated when money had to be spent. And advertising was a must. I'd just pay for that on my own. 9. MORE SEX WITH EVERYBODY BUT TED It's funny/not funny how promiscuous I'd become after the negative test result. I'd once gotten the idea I'd be done with sex as long as I could keep my health. Nope. Beside regularly hooking up with Rick and swallowing his poz cum, I was still hunting for more. I craved danger, sex, dick, feet, cum and ... Ted? Lester seemed to think he was still around. "Big guy, right? Beard? Ugly as fuck? Hands the size of ham steaks? Yeah. He's here. Still in town." He wasn't good for too many details because it was already noon and he was close to passing out. And then he did. Sammy smiled at me, walked over and poured us a few shots. "It's weird...you're kind of like my boss now and we haven't even had sex. Yet." I flat out loved this weird guy. "I'm too freaky for you, Sammy. Too damaged." He snorted. "Doubt that, Brian. It's more like I think of you as a little brother ... or a nephew. I don't do incest." "Yeah. Whatever you say, Sammy." I did a bit of work here and there for my company, but spent most of my time hunting down new dick. You'd think Rick's penis would be enough to keep any fag busy, but I could not help myself. I still had some small hope of being in an actual relationship, a marriage. Probably just kidding myself. But still... went through another round of men. I now had a computer and internet access...but it was mostly slow and boring back then. I hunted. the leather whisperer This guy came out of nowhere. I'd made a decision one Saturday night to bathe, groom and get dressed up. It was cold outside which was good because I liked sweaters. I had some really nice ones. Tommy Halfiger. I went to the bar where I'd met Rick. I liked the DJ there...he'd contacted me to do some P.R for him. He wanted to be "a brand". Yeah...I'd have to see his dick first. (and a toe or two) I was just a sex-hungry bottom and this place was nothing like I'd remembered (it had been a little over six months since that crazy fun Halloween night when I met Rick.) They were all kids now. And small. Short. Tiny bulges and even smaller feet. A few people tried to get my attention, but I just left in a flurry of arrogance and disgust. Asshole was back. I could either go home, go wake up Rick and blow him or just hang out out at Pals. So I went to see Sammy and was sad to see such a small crowd. i didn't know what else to do. "Hey, Boss! You look nice, Been somewhere special?" He was sly. He was funny. I loved him. "Stopped at 'Shadows' for about 20 minutes. Every guy there was tiny....with little shoes - like children. I need a drink...a real one...." He arched an eyebrow., leaned over to me -- muttered. "Size 14's at the end of the bar. Be careful." At the corner of the bar was a dude who was fully decked out in leather. Plus a 70's mustache. He wasn't bad looking, but it was hard to tell because the brim of his leather cap was pulled down so low. Hot. I was so full of hormones that night.... "Hi. Looking good. I'm Brian -- how are you tonight?" He was clearly drunk. "Well. I'll tell you, Bobby boy...,.The world is a really, really shitty place. Have you noticed? I mean..." He took a minute and regarded me. "You're a cute boy, Brad. But I should probably go home now. I started a little too early tonight." Damn. I was starting to love the smell of all that leather. He was tall too. Sammy brought over a pitcher of beer and a shot of whiskey. He dropped the shot into the pitcher and it foamed up, pretty as a poem. Cool. "What the hell is that? Root beer?" I didn't know what it was called, but it tasted nice. "I'll buy you a drink if you stay...if you can rally. It's early, man." "Yeah, yeah. get me one of those root beers." I turned Sammy's way and he was already bringing a second one. He knew me too well. Or he already knew this guy. "What's your name?" "I'm Luke. What's yours?" "Uh....Brian. Where else have you been tonight?" "Section. It was dead tonight. Hardly any cruising. You gotta go at just the right time there. Good happy hour. Lasts an hour longer than it does here." Hmmm. I wondered if extended happy hour prices were the key to bringing in more guys like him. His crowd obviously had cash to spend on expensive gear (not to mention the cleaning you probably had to put into it), I was thinking like a businessman these days. "You think this place could be more like Section? Bring in more studs like you?" He was hot but I was thinking of my investment just now. "You're fucking cute, Bob." He gave me a scorching look of lust I found flattering even though I wasn't trying to cruise him. "Move over a few seats..." I moved two stools away from him. ?? "One more." I wasn't getting something that seemed to be going on. Luke adjusted himself a little and then stretched out his long legs across my thighs. Oh. So I guess he saw the sex animal I was beneath the expensive sweater and business talk. His boots were indeed huge -- maybe even bigger than Ted's. The smell of leather, the feel of it ...I mean, DAMN. "This doesn't seem like your kind of place, Bobby. You a preppy or something?" I'd never licked the leather sole of a boot before but I was about two seconds away from doing just that. I was content just looking at them for now, holding them with respect. Luke. H Luke. His boots were the only redeemable thing about him. "No. I was just at Shadows and had to leave. not my kind of crowd." "Yeah. You about tired of twinks now? You need a man. Somebody to whip you into shape." "I think you're right about that, Luke." I would do just about anything for him to take control of me right here and now. He shifted his legs to the floor and made me move over next to him. "We'll discuss matters now." Weirdly, this magic drink seemed to have sobered him up a lot. "You're gonna buy us shots and then drive me home. It's not far." "No problem." I motioned for Sammy who was already giving me a look that said 'I've seen this all before.' "Two shots of whatever Luke wants." "First of all... you get credit for already knowing my name somehow. That's good for friends -- but I'm your master now. Your owner. I need to be addressed with more respect. Details will come later. Do you understand?" "Yes. Yes, SIR." I could play along with this. "Very good. Now tell me about your life now. I really don't care too much, but it might help things as we proceed. "I'll be 28 in a few months. I'm a consultant for emerging businesses and an investor. I'm not rich -- but working on it. What do you do, Sir?" "You don't get to ask questions, slave boy. But I'm feeling generous just now. I'm a substitute teacher and also an actor in community theater. Most importantly -- I own boys. Cash slaves. You're going to be paying my bills now." "Absolutely. Yes." Sammy had warned me to be careful. I was usually one step ahead of guys, but Luke was a whole new specimen. I would get out of this with just some quick sex. Somehow. To move this story along, I'll just hit fast forward: We got really drunk and I took him home. I stripped and knelt at his side and read the owner/slave contract out loud. I signed it and he tried handcuffing me to a hook in his ceiling that was meant for a hanging plant. My weight pulled it loose and plaster rained down upon us. It was embarrassing and ultimately kind of boring. We finally got naked and he had a very nice dick that wouldn't give Rick any competition, but it got dramatically hard despite his drunken stupor. He demanded I put him in my fantasies and tell him what I'd like to do in bed. I said I wanted him to rape me which surprised us both. It was a background fetish that took center stage all of the sudden. He wouldn't do it and was actually pretty rigid about safe sex. Too bad -- I had stopped caring about that. I wanted total domination and control. He really was just an actor after all. I got him off but wasn't allowed to taste his cum. I just left. It was still early...I could always just stop by Rick's place. the Indian pilot I was only at Section to gather research. Lester owned a pretty big bar in the suburbs and wanted it to serve the straight fetish crowd. swingers and assorted freaks. (my suggestion) I didn't understand the appeal of this place -- until I found the basement level. Some serious cruising was happening down there. Dark and smelly. You could hear blow-jobs happening in almost every corner. Cool. I guess this place was virus hibernation central. People were getting less careful now. The internet was here and 'barebacking' was being discussed on forums and in personal ad spots. THAT was the ultimate fetish I'd been on the way to this whole time. I was indeed a bug-chaser. I could go to Rick's house right now and talk him into 'gifting' me right now. But, no. I still needed to find Ted first. He'd be the key. The answer. Would I find him here? Was he still even in town? Alive? That's when I met Shri. (I really have no idea how it was actually spelled). He was from India and spoke with a very pronounced accent. He said he was a pilot and had onion breath. I didn't really mind. He was tall, lean and pretty aggressive. I'm not sure why he approached me since I hadn't really bothered getting dressed up or caring how my hair looked. I was drinking gin and tonics that night. Shri and I were dressed almost the same, now that I'm remembering it. As much as I liked black leather boots - I still had a thing for white Nike high-tops. Especially massive ones! I had never met a large Asian before ... they had always seemed petite to me. I hope I wasn't racist in addition to all my other asshole characteristics. His hands were all over me right off the bat. And we kissed passionately right there in front of everybody...not that even one person cared or even bothered looking. I liked this place! I'd be a return customer for sure. Shri and I went back to his hotel room at the fucking Hilton. Maybe he really was a pilot. He got naked and I saw his big tan dick flopping all over the place. He was only half-hard but already it still stirred a breeze as he moved. Oh yeah! Jackpot! He wrestled me to the bed and we were all tangled up for what seemed like forever. I remember trying to rub those long feet of his but he wouldn't have it at all. I wonder now if he was just ticklish or if it was a cultural thing. Some of those barefoot countries thought the feet were unclean and best not noticed. Condoms were never mentioned. I thought I could just do this...get fucked raw and be done with it. But he was so addicted to poppers. I mean, he just wouldn't stop sniffing that little bottle. I didn't like them. Made me dizzy and not at all horny. Just the secondhand smell was making me sick. But Shri seemed to need it like it was oxygen or something. My stomach turned over and I. had to just leave. I couldn't imagine vomiting in front of him in the fucking Hilton no less. I actually did throw up -- on some sports car in the parking garage. It was too late to go to Rick's place. Oh well. the total kink freak I hate myself for not remembering his name . I never wrote it down in my journal for some reason. He could be really be the star of a whole new story. Let's just call him "Roger" for now. I met him in the weirdest way. I decided to finally address my drinking problem and Deb suggested I see this acupuncture guy who had an office in the absolute worst part of the city. He was a tiny, chain-smoking Japanese man who always looked on the verge of death. Insurance didn't cover this and so I paid fifty bucks each time I wanted to get stuck with fifty different needles. He was also selling me herb pills with not a word of English on the label. I took them. I maybe felt better afterwards (even Rick commented that I was drinking less and had a noticeably increased libido). I kept going back. It didn't hurt and his voice was soothing. He said wise things in between his coughing jags. He became my spirit guide. Sort of. So anyway -- I was walking out of the decayed building when I met Roger. He was obviously gay. Not exactly handsome but interesting. I'd later find out he was working for a non-profit place that delivered food to underprivileged families. He drove a truck. "Hi. How are you? I'm Roger." It was March but still very chilly out and he was only wearing a t-shirt. "Hi. I'm Brian. You need a coat, man!" "No. I am always running hot and I move around a lot. I like the cold. I was born in Minnesota. Played hockey in high school." Well, he didn't use complete sentences very much, but I could deal with that. I tried so hard not be a snob. Asian herbs were maybe helping with that. "I was born in a climate not too much different than this. It's usually warm by now. I can't skate. Never learned." "I'll teach you. If my skates are still in decent shape. Size 13 skates are hard to find." uh oh I had to wonder if guys just sensed my weirdness back then. "Need a ride?" "Nah. I'm parked just over there. I don't work regular hours and just got done having an acupuncture treatment." "Whoa! Really? You got stuck with needles and shit??" "Yeah. It doesn't hurt at all." "Cool. I have an hour left on my shift. Want to meet up for a drink later?" "Sure. Ever been to Pals? It's a great place." "OK. I prefer The Tent, though." The what? "Sure. Where is it?" He looked at me like I was joking. "Where you been, dude? It's the oldest gay bar in the city!" I stood there looking like an idiot. "Hey - why don't you just come with me as I finish delivering some stuff. It'll do your karma some good. We never have enough help." Sure, Mr. Size 13 skates -- I need the karma points. "OK. Let's go." The alarm was set on my car and I'd kind of gotten used to leaving it behind on my sex adventures. He was right about the warmth that came with doing real work, I was sweating and his own personal heat made the inside of the cab even hotter. I got hard. I could smell sex coming off of him. The Tent was indeed very old -- and very close to my building. I swear -- I lived at one of of the three points on a Gay Bermuda Triangle, Everything was so close to my life. It was a dump. The building looked on the verge of collapsing at any second. And you couldn't just walk in....you had to be buzzed in electronically. Like it was a high-security prison or something. uh oh It was bad. I mean -- disgusting. There was some skeletal looking guy wearing just a jockstrap,..and he was actively sucking on the boner next to him at the bar. I should probably think about not being unsafe ever again. Too much shit and ugliness. My bug-chasing seemed so stupid right then. We each got beers and Roger just looked at me...head to toe. "You hate it here, don't you?" "No. I just..." "Play darts? I'm in a league now." Ugh. I never knew why gay guys liked this game so much. Lester had shelled out big bucks for a new electronic dart game at Pals even though I voted against it at first. It turned out to be a huge hit. Weird. This Roger and I kept drinking and let out hands move over each others bodies. I liked where this was going. I started having some thoughts I hadn't really had before. "I want to lick your ass, Roger." I'd never felt that like doing that with anyone before. but was now whispering it in his ear. I blamed the vibe in this bar. What I first thought was just filthy sleaze was the best kind of filthy sleaze. Reckless. "Thanks, man! I'd love that!" He was so happy that he kissed me deeply. We probably could have just done it right there and nobody would give a damn. The beer was dirt cheap and we had more. And more. We were basically dry humping each other there in the open between rounds of darts. As it turns out, I wasn't too bad at this game. He wanted to do some shots, but I asked if we could just go home together instead. It might have been my horniest moment ever -- and I'd had more than a few. So we left. He lived in a very small apartment in an old building. His queen-sized bed was right in the middle of his living room/only room. OK. I was getting used to every and any kind of shitty apartments when hooking up with strangers. It wasn't that bad, really. A single gay dude our age, working for a non-profit could do worse. I just knew he had a lot of sex here. You could feel it, smell it practically. This was going to be fun. I guess he was still thinking about my offer to eat out his ass because he guided me to the bathroom. We stripped and he got in the shower. It's kind of a shame because I was really loving the smell of sweat he had. A working man's sweat. Rick had it most of the time and I never wanted him to shower before we got down to business. I needed to call him tonight. Taking a shower with somebody is never as erotic as the movies make you think. It's cold, awkward and a little too slippery when you've had some drinks. He soaped his ass and pits well and I did the same - even though I'd just showered before the acupuncture appointment. I wanted to be clean before he defiled me in every way he could think of. After we toweled off, he opened the shower curtain wide and lit a votive candle sitting on the vanity. "We'll come back after the tub dries." Wink. I had no idea what he had in mind, but I was up for it. We went back to the main room and he basically threw me on the bed. YES! We made out passionately and that big ol' dick of his was already leaking a little. He squatted over my face and I just went for it. The hole was hairless and tasted like Dial soap -- with just a hint of funk. I tongued it and kissed it and everything. I was now a pro at something else. Roger moaned and squirmed until I guess he just couldn't take it anymore. "Wow. I need to fuck you now." Yeah! I saw him move off the bed and fish out a condom from somewhere. Shit. I was so ready for a bare cock to go inside of me. Poz me. "See if you can make the latex break, Roger." He hesitated. "Not such a good idea. I fucked a guy bare the other night and I never meant to. He might have diseases and I can't put you at risk until I get tested." I really couldn't talk him out of it. He had an odd bend in his cock that made things a little too difficult after he entered. I couldn't handle it. The angle just made it impossible for my ass to cooperate. "Sorry. It'll get easier once you've gotten used to it." I never doubted there were other bug-chasers out there - but I was starting to think that real gift-givers were rare. I reluctantly made him pull out and wondered if I would ever be capable of taking the rape I'd fantasized about for so long. Probably not. Roger saw the disappointment in my face, "How 'bout I fuck your face for a while?" Sure! That angle made taking him whole difficult as well. I guess I'd lucked out so far with all the straight, perfect boners I'd had. I mean, Rick's was fucking perfect. I had been spoiled. "Don't worry. we're going to celebrate the day I hit those tonsils." Sounded good to me. We kissed and humped passionately for a good twenty minutes before he jumped up and went to the bathroom. I could really get into this guy. "OK. Tub's dry. Come with me Brian NOW." Oh, yes sir! It was dark and smelled like soap and whatever floral scent the candle was, he put a blindfold on me. That made me a little nervous. I was a visual guy. Once I was unable to see anything, he put me in the tub and told me lay back and relax. The tub was still slightly damp. And a little cold. I'd never been blindfolded before. That's when he dripped some hot melted wax on my chest. It hurt a little but in a good way. Cool! It was a turn on but not really enough to get me going - plus I was afraid he'd drip some on my exposed dick. But it was over. Then I felt a heavy stream of hot urine splatter me. A first for me. You can't imagine how instantly that gave me a boner. It even smelled good! He emptied his bladder on every square inch of my body. I could do this every day of my life. "Wow. That almost made me cum! I loved it." He chuckled. "Yeah. I noticed." I rinsed off and met him back in bed. Of course I went straight for his bare soles and gave him the best foot rub of his life. His feet were nice but the heels were very hard and calloused. Working man's feet. "Are you a runner? A jogger." "Yeah. Can you tell just from how bad my feet are?" "No. They're great. I should probably start too. Where do you run?" "Georgia Park. It's nice. I guess prostitutes have been killed there a lot lately, but I've never seen anything bad. Even at might." An idea was forming in my head. The sex part of the session was over and we just talked even though neither of us had cum. Sometimes you just don't have to. When I got home, I had messages from Ronnie and Rick. Later. I immediately called Roger again. Most times I just wanted day or two of no communication before talking to the guy again. "Hello?" "Hey! It's Brian. I just wanted to say again how much I liked meeting you." "Great. Me too! It's still early - want to go back to The Tent?" "Nah. I need to get some work done now, but I'd like to invite you over to my place tomorrow night. I'll give you the address. Got a pen?" "Cool. Want me to bring something?" "Sort of. I was thinking you could jog here and let me clean the sweat off of you with my tongue. Head to toe." "Oh....OH! Yeahhhh! What time?" "Whenever. Maybe after rush hour is over. Like around 7? I can make dinner for you as well." "Deal! I'll call just before I head out." "See you then." This was a first. I tried to never bring sex partners here. Even Rick had only been here twice. And I'd never ever made dinner for anybody. I just liked the idea. I had a dream about him that night. By the next evening, I'd straightened the place up a little but not too much. I'd picked out some CDs I could play. I'd gotten everything ready to make BLTs. Is there even one person on Earth who doesn't like a good BLT?? He arrived a little early, wearing sweats and a dark green windbreaker. He was glowing from the run. Nice. "It's warmer outside tonight, but I wore the jacket so I'd sweat a little more for you." Wicked smile. How do you make small talk with a sweaty guy you're about to worship with your mouth? "Want me to hang up your windbreaker?" "Nah. I'll keep it on until later. This is a nice place. What is it you do again?" "I'm a consultant and do various business work for other companies." "Cool. Can you show me around?" There really wasn't much more to see except the kitchen, bathroom and my bedroom. Well, you know where this is going. He immediately plopped down on my bed. I liked that he did it without being invited to. "Nice mattress. Can I move in?" "It's new. But not as big as yours." "Here I am, Brian. Get busy." I just loved how there wasn't one shy, retiring thing about him. I peeled off his big sweaty Reeboks first. The odor hit me and it was sexy as fuck. The socks were warm and damp. He thrust his hips up so I could get his sweatpants down. No underwear. His fat dick was engorged but not completely hard yet. I loved the aroma of fresh sweat, but the taste was even better. Salty and manly. Better than bacon even. He was fully erect now and putting his hands behind his head. I got the message. I worked each pit with pure passion. I tasted and inhaled everything. EVERYTHING! I got him sopping wet everywhere with my saliva. He couldn't help but jack off right there. "Fuck! I'm gonna shoot!" I covered the head with my mouth and he let go right away. I tasted everything. I don't think I'd ever be the same after this. Roger was the kind of freak I'd been looking for. I wanted to do it all over again."Thanks, Babe. Are you hungry yet?" "Oh yeah. Definitely. Nobody's ever made dinner for me before." "Don't get too excited. I was just going to make BLTs." "Awesome. Want me to get dressed or stay naked?" "You decide. Just be comfortable." He wore the sweatpants and nothing else and walked to the kitchen. He wanted to watch me cook and make idle chat. I got completely dressed (bacon splatter) but didn't bother with the cool apron Ronnie gave me for Christmas. Roger was a real guy and would probably smirk if I wore some goddamn apron. He sat at my kitchen table with his legs crossed and a bare sole facing me. See what I mean? Guys found my sex weakness and used it to practically paralyze me with lust. We ate happily even though he thought it was weird that I didn't have a TV in my kitchen. We had a few more nights like that. I happened to mention I wanted to be raped. Mistake. "You don't mean that. It's one thing to say when you're all horny...but it's a horrible, unsexy thing when it happens to you. No pleasure whatsoever." Whoa. I'd stepped on a landmine somehow. Was he molested as a kid? Had a bad experience? It was the beginning of the end for us as a couple. It wasn't just the rape talk. He basically admitted he was a big whore and couldn't be tied down to just one guy. It was probably for the best. I was still hung up on Ted --who only existed as a painful memory now. And there was Rick now. He'd gone through some dark days since the diagnosis. I was on call for him at all times. the black cowboy, the guy who didn't speak English, a bunch of guys from the personal ads, the chiropractor who was as former monk, the random dudes from Pals I was being a whore myself. I'll just skip them and get to the best part of this story..... 10. TED AT LAST I was having another business lunch with Lester. A liquid lunch of course. The stage and the lighting were all finished. I was trying to convince him we should have drag queens once a week. "The crowds would increase. People love them gals and drink like crazy when they perform." "I don't have the space here for more dressing rooms. I already put in a nice one for your stripper boyfriend and he didn't really in bring much of a crowd. No. This ain't no drag bar, Brian. Now let's talk about the cocktail napkins you wanted." "Dudes write their phone numbers on those. They're not expensive." "Neither are the ones I can get from Sam's Club. I'm open to your matchbook idea, though. We might as well do it before they put in a smoking ban for the whole damn city. But you have to pay for those yourself. You owe me me that much." "How do you figure, Lester? We can't keep enough T-shirts in stock these days. I see them everywhere I go.I'm the reason this place is making you a profit." "I did you a big favor, kid. Well...Sammy helped. Buy the matchbooks and take on extra grand for all this construction, Deal?" "What 'favor', Lester? Are you just drunk-talking now?" "This is where trust comes in. You write me a check now and come back at 9 tonight. It just might be the best night of your life." What? Was I going to get a plaque or something? I was too curious not to agree. I was making more money off of this investment than I'd ever hoped I would. My dad would be proud if I'd bothered to talk with him....like ever. I wonder if I'd remembered to give my parents the new phone number I got s few weeks ago (I was getting calls from that Shri guy at all hours for awhile). I haven't spoken to either of my parents for a long time. I needed to let go of my anger and resentment at them, The last time I'd had an appointment with Deb, I had asked her some real direct questions about how to just forgive them and move on. Her advice was so fucking weird that I knew my time with her was about to expire. "Some souls are in too big a hurry to get born. They cut in line, so to speak. As a result - they end up in the wrong families. I can grieve about that with you when you're ready." "What about the whole bug-chasing fetish I have," "I have a friend who's a psychic (of course she did) and we discussed this phenomena we're seeing more and more. Your generation was coming of age just when the disease hit with full fury. You were force-fed too much scary information at too young an age. We all eventually 'chase' what scares us. It's quite human." That almost made some sense. "And my thing with rape? Feet?" "I read a study once that claimed those things might start in the womb. When you're just an embryo, you're all curled up like a little tadpole. Your brain and feet are practically touching during critical stages of development. It's more common in men than women. I also think it's part of your desire to be dominated." "Yeah. I remember you saying something about that came from having a bad relationship with my father. But it wasn't so much 'bad' as it was 'nonexistent'." "Same thing, Brian." Really? Hmm. It might have been the most enlightening discussion we'd ever had. But it was getting close to 7 and I needed to get go ready for Pals and Lester's big surprise. I doubted it would be worth the two grand I'd just put into his business this afternoon. How could it? I wore my Pals t-shirt with vintage varsity jacket that Ronnie had held for me at her shop. Some jock from the 70's had obviously excelled at every sport that existed because the big white 'B' patch had every little medal pinned to to it. Business had picked up, but it was still a little early for a Friday night. Sammy and Lester were sitting at the bar having a conversation...a conversation that immediately stopped when I approached. "What's up, guys?" A few secret smiles were shared. I was not so much excited as I was curious about what was supposed to be 'the best night of my life'. "Oh not much. We were just talking about the new bouncer we hired. He doesn't come in until 9." "I thought we were going to do the interviews for that together. It's a good for me to help screen applicants...especially since it was my idea in the first place." "Remember what I told you about trust, Kid." Fine I was still a little pissed off, but Sammy smoothed things over by pouring us some shots. Lester drained his and left. ''You'll like him. Big ol' fucker that has some security experience. Ain't nobody gonna mess with him." Well I guess it sounded good, but not terribly thrilling. Lester was a bullshitter, but Sammy had always been level with me. So far. "Cool." "Well -- I can show you one of the surprises now." We just got these in this morning. He hefted a big box onto the bar. New sweatshirts and long-sleeved t-shirts. All black except the logo was a tad smaller and done in white instead of pink. Lester thinks we can sell the sweatshirts for 25 bucks and the t's for 20. He paid for these himself and is having the display shelves constructed as we speak. "The markup is a little steep, but we'll give it a shot. We might have to reduce the price if they don't move." "Cheer the fuck up, Brian! You can take as many as you want. Hand a few of them out to any hot men you might meet." "Yeah, Great, I think I need a sex break for now. Get me a Bud Light, would ya?" "Giving celibacy a try, huh? I give it less than 24 hours. It's just a feeling I have." Whatever. Lately, I was feeling burnt out by hook-ups. And shamed. I'd even stopped writing them down. Sammy kept staring toward the door. I thought he'd see every hunk that walked in and then tempt me to hook up with somebody. "You need to get out of this mood. You're no fun anymore." "Gee, thanks." The beer was extra cold these days because I'd convinced Lester to upgrade the refrigeration system and replace the taps. Sales had improved by more than 20% and I figured we'd recoup the money by the end of the year...especially if we had a really hot Summer. "Oh look! The new bouncer/doorman is here. H'e's early. That's a good sign, right?" I spun the stool around. And there was Ted! In real life. For real. "Oh my God!" "Surprise!" He looked a little different than I remember.Put on some more weight, shaved off the beard but kept the mustache. He also seemed a little unwell somehow. But still awesome all the same. Would he remember me at all? I guess he did because his face lit up with a smile. Sammy handed me a shot of tequila to take to him. "Brian! It's really you! Wow! You look exactly the same.." "Great to see you again, Ted! You start working tonight, huh? Have a shot!" "Thanks! I'm a little early because I wanted to get a lay of the land. I forgot how small it was." "How did you land the gig, man?" "I was here and the bartender, that Sammy guy just offered me the job our of nowhere. I'm getting paid in cash which is a major perk. I actually came here looking for you!" He blushed a little. "What? No way!" "Yeah! I asked around and finally met somebody who thought you worked here. Or owned it or something." "I've been searching for you too. I don't really own this place -- just an investor. And - wow! It's really you!" "Yep! I was afraid you weren't interested after you never called me. I don't blame you -- I was in a bad place that night and probably made a bad first impression." "No. No -- I was instantly excited but I lost the number. Must have thrown it out by mistake. I'm kind of careless sometimes. But I remember every word, memorized it." It wasn't a total lie - it really had been a mistake to ever 'lose' that number. His smile got even brighter. I've still got 30 minutes before I start. Want to sit for a little?" "Yeah. Yeah. Definitely," Sammy gave us more free shots and kept lurking nearby with a smirk on his face. "OK. That's my limit. I'm starting work now and am not even supposed to mix alcohol with some of the meds I'm on." "Oh. OK." I figured there'd be plenty of time for him to tell me things if he wanted to. Sammy looked at me with sparkling eyes. "Brian? Can you help me with something in the back for a second?" "I'll watch the till," Ted offered. I'm still in shock that THE Ted was here. We got to the back where a new computer was still in the box. Lester had wanted one but I was dreading having to explain to him how to use it. "You seem to be really happy all the sudden!" "I don't know how to thank you, Sammy! I owe you big time!" "Here. Help me with these." There were two new bar chairs there. Nice ones. These are sturdier than our regular ones and had nice padding. "One for the doorman and one for me." My ass is too old for the my other chair and I figured your boyfriend would appreciate how strong they are. I can sneak the cost into the books somehow without Lester noticing, but it might be easier if you just paid for them." "No problem." "He seems cool -- not really my type, but he's nice. Even offered to bring his own flashlight, but I got him this new, heavy-duty one. Now this I can charge to Lester. Just help me carry everything out." We did. "Brian - go get Ted set up by the door. It's getting crowded and I need to get back behind the bar." I got him situated by the door. "Fancy! Thanks." "We need to get you a table here - but a new one is being built right now. Anything else you need?" "Just some water if you don't mind." I went a fetched him a a little bottle of the cold spring water I'd talked Lester into buying for the designated drivers. Of course it was the cheapest brand they carried at Sam's Club. "Wow. You treat employees very well here." He should have kept the beard. "So what else is going on with you, Ted?" He promised to fill me in on everything later. It was getting busy and he was now on the clock. I'd bring some XXXL shirts when he wasn't too swamped. Sammy motioned for me to come help out behind the bar. I'd become good at tending bar lately. It was sort of fun. If it was some drink I'd never made before, I turned the order over to Sammy and learn how he made it. I'd sometimes get really good tips which I always just gave to Sammy. Always got a few phone numbers that I kept as souvenirs. ..unless Sammy wanted one in particular. The best thing about doing this work was how fast the time would go by. It stayed busy until about 2 AM when we arrived at what was known as "after party" time. People paired off and left. By now it was just a handful of very drunk regulars. "Thanks for helping me, Brian." I couldn't believe how late it was already. "Why don't you and Ted go ahead leave early. This chair is so nice. You guys both did a good job and I can lock up pretty soon." "Are you sure?" "Yeah. Give him this envelope. I added a bonus. Do you know he caught three fake I.D.s from stupid kids. I think he collects them." "That many? Wow. It's a wonder he haven't been busted before." "No kidding. Now get out of here and go have fun." wink "Hold on a second" I picked up a pen and drew a little happy face on it...and then added a few little hearts. Sammy rolled his eyes as I went to deliver it. "Hey Brian! Is it time to go?" "For us it is." He looked at my silly little drawing on the back. "You remembered! But this is too much money." "You earned a bonus. Thanks for doing such a great job...I hear you nailed some little lawbreakers tonight." "It's not so hard to spot fakes after you've done this for awhile. Out of state I.D. s are the first giveaway. Some little punk comes in with a driver's licence from Alaska and I'm ultra careful. They've gotten better with computers and stuff now, but I always catch them." Always. Hey -- can you give me a ride home?" yes yes yes yes! "My car eventually gave up and I walked here. I walk everywhere. It's not too far, but my back is killing me right now." "No problem. I'm close too, but I drove tonight. Let's go!" As we walked out to the parking lot, I saw Roger making out with some guy near the entrance. I shuddered at the thought of him. What a waste of time and hormones. "Thanks, man. I'm not really afraid of this neighborhood. but there's more meth now than before. Have you noticed?" "No. I don't even know what that looks like." "You'll learn to recognize it soon enough. They all look like walking,talking, nervous corpses. And are just weird, ya know? They never drink alcohol that I've noticed. They leave the room all the time and come back a few minutes later. And their teeth tend to be pretty bad. Never ever touch that shit." "Don't worry, Ted. I've been trying to convince the owner to provide health benefits, but you'd have to be on the payroll. Why did you want to be paid in cash?" "Long story. I'll tell you on the drive back to my place." OK. Which way do I go?" "Just drive South on Luther and make a left at the second light." "Okay." Not a really great area. Worse than Rick's neighborhood even. "So the deal is...I'm not technically allowed to have a job because I'm on disability." uh oh "It's hard to get by on what they give, but I couldn't survive without it. Not bad healthcare either. I'm just trying to stay in their good graces." "What's wrong?" I had an idea. "Mental stuff, mostly. I sort of had a breakdown not long after we first met. I was so, so bummed out. But I finally met somebody, and I was certain it would work out and 'cure' me. It was so nice. We went to Disneyland together and did some fun stuff. But then he dumped me. That sent me right over the edge. I had to be hospitalized after a suicide attempt. They decided I was possibly schizophrenic and just had some screwed-up wiring . I was even having hallucinations. Little creatures on the floor You aren't suppose to drink when taking the pills for that. I don't even enjoy it anymore. Not like I used to. I still smoke cigarettes and sometimes cigars - but that's it. I have other health stuff going on, but we can talk about that later. Not now, OK?" "Sure. Is this the right street?" "Yeah -- It's the big white house with the blue porch light. Just pull up to the curb.There's no driveway." "Nice. Do you have roommates?" "Yeah - I was going to tell you about that. I used to have three. but now I just have one. Dan. I have this unique ability to drive people away. Dan I were the best of friends for many years. but he's a mess now. I hardly see him at all now. He stays in his room and talks in chat rooms all the time. He does poppers constantly and I swear the air in there is flammable. He had a bulldog who died. I'm convinced it was because of the fumes." "Gross. I hate that smell." "The good thing is I have the whole upstairs to myself. The bad thing is that it costs me more and I'm barely getting by. The landlord is a good guy and works with me on the rent." "Wow. I doubt you drive people away, though. I've been searching for you for years now." "Wow? Really? You are so sweet! There's more to tell you. Want to come in for some coffee or something." yes yes yes yes "Absolutely." "I'm sure he's awake, but he won't come out of his room. I think he pisses in a plastic jug or something." It wasn't so bad inside, but you could definitely smell the amyl nitrate. God, I hated that shit. You could practically see that smell in the air. We climbed the creaky wooden stairs. They made a haunted house sound under us. His own private living space was a little room with a ratty couch, an old TV and a coffee table littered with overflowing ashtrays, magazines, trash and matchbooks. I had to wonder if there phone numbers on the back of them. Probably, but I had to respect his privacy. It was hard, though. Speaking of 'hard' -- I already was. Just being near him again was all I'd wanted for so, SO long. "So -- you want me to turn the TV. There's not much on right now." "Whatever you'd normally watch is fine, Ted." He found one of those courtroom shows -- like 'Judge Judy' only not as famous. I'd guess there were about a thousand versions by now. I never watched that shit. "Want a cigarette? A cigar? I wasn't about to light up in your car." "I'll take a regular smoke. You are the only person I'd let smoke in my car. Never hesitate again. Just do it." He looked at me a new way. "Go downstairs and make us some coffee. Cups are above the coffee-maker. You know how to make coffee, right?" "I can figure it out. I never drink coffee -- got any beer?" "Yeah -- There's some cheap stuff Dan bought in the fridge. Take what you want. He'll never miss it." It was almost 3 AM as I crept down those noisy stairs. The smell of poppers was so strong down here. Ugh. The kitchen was easy enough to find. It was much neater and cleaner than you might think. I made the coffee and helped myself to some brand of beer I'd never heard of. It was mostly terrible, but cold enough. Beer is beer after all. I finished making the coffee and had forgotten to ask if he wanted sugar in it. My guess is he did. I put just a little in. I climbed back up the stairs with both beverages. Ted had slipped off his jeans and sat with his socked feet up on the coffee table. How did guys always know?? I almost tripped on his discarded boots, but didn't spill a drop of either drink. "Good boy!" Oh! I liked that! I was already his 'boy'. What a perfect night! "Is it just my imagination or have your boots gotten even bigger since I first met you back at Ledge?" "I remember you noticing them. Is that your thing? That's a whole other story. Take off my socks." yes yes yes yes There was a smell that hit me. The best smell ever. Almost sweet. His toes were all bent up like a clenched fist. Hammer toes...what they're called. They can be inherited or caused by vigorous walking, stressful activity. "You have amazing feet, Ted." "See the toes?" "Yeah - they're all bent. Does that run in your family?" "Nope. All my fault. I used to wear size 13's because I thought that was the biggest boot made. My doctor traced my bare foot on a piece of paper and then made a trace of my boot. I'd been wearing too small a shoe for years. I'm actually a size 15. You have to go to one of those big guy stores...or order them online." I wanted that piece of paper...but it would it too weird to ask just then. I was determined to make this work and not screw things up. "Does it hurt now?" "Lots of things hurt these days. Tall, heavy guys always ache somewhere...knees, feet, back. You name it - its either been in pain or hurts right now." "Dang." The regular programming on TV had switched over to infomercials. "Wow. It's late. I'm beat. How 'bout you?" "Very. Long day, long night.Do you work again tonight?" "Yep. I think I'm really going to like this gig." "I can come pick you up if you want." "Thanks! Yes! Drop by around 8 if you can. We can hang out a little while first." "How about 7? I'll take you out for some dinner first?" "Wow. Great!" I finally had Ted back in my life...I was going to treat him like a king. I mean, how many second chances do you get in life? "See you then." I normally hated still being out this late/early. It's a weird time when it's still dark, but birds have started to sing out here and there. There was a morning feel in the air. Ugh. I'd have stuff to do tomorrow and it was already tomorrow. 11. OFF TO A ROCKY START WITH TED I could tell my machine was full of messages, but I just needed some sleep just now. I didn't even wake up until after noon...after a really nice, contented sleep. I'm sure there was a smile on my face the whole time. Most of the messages were from Rick. He'd been doing better lately and staying busy. It was nice to hear him somewhat happy again. "You're never home anymore ... it's okay. I've been getting some new work recently. I'm building a display case for that bar you like - that Pals place. That old man who owns it is a flake. Do you know him? Well, I need to get some stuff from the hardware store now. Call me." I'll be damned. This could get real awkward fast. I'd finally found my perfect man and at the same time, put Rick's entire support system in peril. Karma gives and takes in equal measure. Why couldn't it just give for, like, a full month just once? Ronnie wasn't entirely happy about the latest twist in my romantic life. I think she was happy that I was happy, but.... "Wait - Doesn't this guy have HIV?" "I don't know that for sure, Hon. He's put on a bunch of weight....so that's a good sign. Right?" "Well...just be careful." She really didn't know much about what a "chaser" I'd become. Not a successful one so far, but it make her upset if I confessed that. If I was going to get the bug eventually, I wanted to contract it from Ted. Ted only. I was much too smart to go into anything without thinking it through. I still thought so highly of my brain back then. I got a lot of work that day...stuff that needed to get done. I wanted 7 o'clock to get here so badly. My spirits were high. I played all my favorite CD's and wanted to dance, dance, dance! I deserved this feeling. I called Rick because it had to be done and I was ready to cross that off my list today. "Hey, Brian!" Caller I.D. was so common now. Phone calls had lost what little bit of magic they'd had when I was younger. "Hey. What's up?" "I'm smoking a bowl and celebrating the cash I just made. Delivered this table and display case I just finished. Got paid in cash. Is that business on the up and up? They paid me in cash when I stripped there a few times. Why haven't they asked me to do it again? " "It's like you said - the owner is a flake." I'd bring him a few shirts later. He loved free stuff. I couldn't help it, I had to call Ted. I copied his number down about twenty different times. I'd never lose touch with him again. "Hello?" No caller I.D. at his place I guess. "Hi, Ted. It's Brian. How are you?" "Great! Did you get some rest?" "Oh yeah. I was wondering if we could meet up a little earlier tonight. Or now?" "That's what I like to hear! How about 6? I got the plumber here now and I don't know when he'll be done. Toilet clogged again. Thank God for this new cash. I appreciate this new job so much -- I get the feeling you had something to do with me landing it." "Only in a secondhand way." "So -- is 6 good then?" "You bet. See you then!" I hung up and beamed blissfully. What would I wear? It didn't feel right to go too dressy. Ted was so casual. It was the back end of the nineties and dress codes didn't really exist in businesses these day. I put on my new Pals sweatshirt because Spring just get going this year. I wanted to grab Ted and go live with him somewhere tropical. It was only 4 PM and I was ready to go. Oh hell -- I'd just stop in at Pals and drink up some liquid courage, see the new display case and chat with Sammy. I couldn't just sit around anymore. "Hi, Boss!" "I hate when you call me that, Sammy. I'm not Lester. Not even close." The new furniture looked great but nobody had bothered to put all the new stuff on it or even put in evenly against the wall. That would give me something to do. "Did you know the blonde carpenter is the same guy who stripped here that time?" "Really?" (time to play dumb) "Yeah. I've seen that guy around everywhere. He's a hustler. I'm sure of it. Talk about being multi-talented!" "Wait. A hustler? No way." "Well -- I used to see him out with a lot of guys who are who were in their 60's and 70's. Maybe he's just a 'professional companion'." I probably should have guessed that. "Think you'll need my help again tonight?" "Maybe. It comes and goes lately. Can you stick around and talk to your man -- just in case? Did you have fun with him?" My spontaneous grin gave me away. "I see." "Yeah. We're going out for dinner tonight before his shift." Sammy looked so self-satisfied. "Thought I'd have a few drinks first. Give me the shirts and I'll go put them out. Are they going to pay for them at the door or here at the bar?" "Undecided. Lester hasn't quite figured that out yet. What can I bring you?" "Vodka tonic. And maybe some peanuts or something...I don't want to eat too much in front of him." "Such a demure young lady! But it sure looks like he can put the food away pretty well himself, I'll bring the nuts anyway." The crowd wouldn't pick up much tonight...I could always tell somehow. Maybe I could escape with Ted extra early and have some real fun. I hoped. By the time I'd finished my second drink, I decided to not wait any longer. Maybe he'd take my early arrival as a sign of eagerness. It very much was exactly that. "See you later, Brian." I knocked on the door around 5:45 PM. For a second or two, I was afraid the roommate would answer the door. I couldn't even picture him in my mind. But no -- it was Ted, fresh out of the shower and wearing a robe. "Excellent timing, Boy! Come on up and help me figure out what to wear. I didn't know where you wanted to eat...but you're casual tonight so I guess that will help me decide." "Wherever you want. What's your favorite place?" "Not vegetarian or too spicy. There's a decent BBQ place on Pearl Avenue. Not exactly cheap but the food is so good!" I'd take him there every night. He kept allowing the robe to slip open so I could glimpse his furry bush and beautiful pale dick. His legs weren't hairy - which surprised me. Usually guys that were balding had an abundance of body hair. His chest was nearly bare as well. I helped him pick out jeans, a baggy black sweater shirt and socks. "What about the shoes?" "They're all in the corner over there. Not boots. They make my feet hurt and sweat like crazy." I saw the stack of shoe boxes that were all clearly labeled 'US 15'. I found some nice black loafers that probably cost quite a bit. "Good choice. Now come put them on me." I loved how bossy he was being tonight. He sat on the bed as I carefully slipped them on those massive feet. "Good Boy!" I liked that too -- even though it sorta sounded like he was talking to a golden retriever. "Ready?" "I'll tell you when we're ready to go. Do you have a computer, the internet?" "Yeah. I do quite a bit of work on internet stuff for the company I consult for." "Ever chat on there?" "No. It all seems overwhelming now. My building doesn't have wifi yet -- so the connection is slow." "There's DSL. You can always try that." I swear, the only thing more tedious than working at a computer was talking about computers. Still -I wanted Ted to feel as if everything he was saying was fascinating. "I can show you more later. We can chat sometimes. Exchange emails." "Cool." The BBQ joint was't too busy. I think they did a lot of carryout business, but not many people actually sat down inside to eat. We got settled in at a table and I ordered a beer for each of us. "I need to tell you some stuff, Brian..." Here it comes. "Sure, what's up?" "Well, first off - I don't want you to wear that shirt again. The logo is on the left." "Oh? It's over the heart. It wasn't my idea to design it that way in the first place, but I never ...I mean, why?" "It'd be okay if it was on the right, I wouldn't mind. You're a submissive...everything should be oriented to the right. I'm dominant and can get away with those shirts.It might seem odd, but it could symbolize something when we're out together. When I give you my keys to carry, you attach them to a belt loop on your right side. It's just how it is. Got it boy?" "Yes, Sir." Weird He'd almost finished his meal while I had barely touched mine. I needed another beer. When it arrived - he said,"That's another thing. I don't think you should drink so much. Not around me anyway. I mean - just please...I want the only thing to influence you is ME," I'm not going to say this was a bad sign - I just didn't know much about this scene. The boy/sir scene or father/son scene. Whatever it was exactly.For his sake, I'd learn. I would. "OK, Ted. Whatever you say." "Good answer, I don't mean we can't party sometimes, but it needs to be my decision." I was a stubborn, self-involved asshole - but I could adapt. Probably. I guess I looked on the verge of a pout. "OK. Look -- Let's go to Pals now and have a few shots. You can have a beer and hang out with Sammy before I start. Just stop when I tell you to. Deal? Sure. Fine. I couldn't screw this up. It was busier than I'd expected.Maybe it was just a brief rush. It happened sometimes. "Well looky here - its the new happy couple. We sat at the bar and bullshitted with Sammy. As much as I wanted to continue to hear more about Ted's rules and regulations, he was pretty much in professional mode now. While Sammy was always jovial and fun when he was working. Ted handed me his untouched shots and left to go man his post. "Let him have a mini pitcher of beer, Sammy and then he's cut off." "What's that about, Brian? Are you his 'boy' already?" "Yeah, I guess. He's got a bunch of rules. Do you know about this whole right/left thing?" "Wow. That's old-school. I thought that went the way of color-coded hankies. But yeah - if he's the top, you pretty much have to wear all your stuff on your right. Does he want to tie you up and stuff?" "No. Not so far. He wants me to moderate my drinking, though." "Man - I'd dump him for that shit.You may be his boy, but you're still an adult. You look good in the new sweatshirt." "Logo's on the left. Bummer." He shook his head, "Uh oh -- it looks like we're in for another busy night. Can you come back here and help?" "Sure," "You can sneak some cocktails. He'll never see." "Deal! We need to hire a new bartender pretty soon, though." "Lester thinks we already found one in you." Whatever. No. I'd be a temp, at most, but I couldn't handle long shifts too often. Marcus says they're interested in bringing me back with a huge promotion and salary bump. I'd be above even where Jana was at before she left. Besides, it might not be a bad idea to not work alongside Ted too frequently. The crowd built up to a standing-room only size. Ted was busy being a bad-ass at the door as Sammy sneaking me shots that I placed out of view below the bar, near the lime wedges and olives. After a few hours, I decided to stop before I got too noticeably buzzed. Weirdly, the crowd didn't seem to thin out until closing time. I guess the recent start of daylight savings time had made it seem earlier than it really was. Ted was very good at herding them out swiftly after last call. Absolutely no one wanted to mess with him. He went out to scan the parking lot and shoo away the stragglers and guys busy getting it on with each other before even getting inside a car. "The cleaning crew van is already here, guys." "Damn -- I keep forgetting what days they come." Sammy throws his bar rag on the counter and goes to lock up the back. Ted grabs my hand and pulls me outside. Was he pissed off? "Well, you broke the rules, Boy." uh oh "Huh? How?" "I saw you drink. I'm not happy." Shit. I opened the passenger door for him and then slowly walked around to my side. I could tell that this short drive was going to last a long time. "Look...I'm an adult, Ted. I've been single a long time and I'm used to being independent. This may take some adjustment." "Watch your tone. We'll discuss things when we get home. You can drive okay, right?" I decided not saying anything was better than trying to explain myself any further. I knew things were not good when he just got out of the car and slammed the door. I could drive home right now, but I followed him up to the porch instead, I had to see this through. It might get better. We got up to his little upstairs living room and he closed the door behind us. The fact that he didn't slam it was a relief. He plopped down on the ratty couch. "What are we going to do about this, boy?" "You could beat the shit out of me." I kind of liked the idea of his getting all crazy and sexy violent with me. "Yeah - I could spank your bare ass and punish you like the bad boy you are. Oh hell...just come sit down next to me for now." He turned the TV on stretched back in pretty much the same position he had the previous night. "I think I sprung all this on you too fast and didn't give you a chance to be an equal partner in this. Maybe I drove away the last guy by being too rigid. Even submissive men are still men in the end. It would kill me to lose you just by not being flexible enough. All I ask is that we try some give and take for now. I want you to have a say in where we go from here. Deal?" We then proceeded to kiss and work each other up into a horny frenzy, "Can I blow you, Ted? Suck your cock?" "Not going to say 'no' to that, Brian!" He fished a semi-hard cock out of his underwear and let me just take it in my mouth. "Ahh! That's it. Go down as far as you can...Yeahh! Here - let me stand up. It'll be easier if you get down on your knees...DAMN! You took it all! Good Boy! You've got talent!" He'd later tell me I was the first guy to ever deep throat him completely. It wasn't terribly difficult because the shaft of his cock was thin enough to not block off my air passages. The knob at the tip was nice and bulky which made his entire penis resemble a magic wand..,or some weird kind of light bulb. I put my hands on his ass cheeks and urged him on. He thrust and humped my face for two or three minutes before starting to hesitate. "We better stop. I'm gonna cum. No...stop!" I couldn't, wouldn't. I held his butt even tighter as he gasped and shot his load down my windpipe. "GodDAMN!" He withdrew his slick, slimy tool from my mouth and panted. I felt a few drops of his sweat hit the top of my head like holy rain. I'd spontaneously came in my underwear - the first time that had ever happened. "Thanks, Ted." We heaved ourselves back up on the couch. "I wish you hadn't done that. I have HIV." Of course I didn't choose that particular moment to mention the countless times I'd swallowed Rick's poz loads. "It was unsafe, Brian" "Life is unsafe." He considered my words and seemed to relax a little. "Want to gargle with some Listerine?" "Nah. I'm good." "So you'd figured out my status already?" "I maybe suspected it, but didn't know for sure." "I see." He put an arm around me as we watched some B movie from the 80's about horny teens working at a beach resort. "I'm probably going to be spending less and less time at Pals before too long. My old company wants me back and they're offering some serious bank to get me." "Wow. That's good for many reasons... I mean, it's probably better that we won't be working together so much. That can be a problem sometimes." "I've got even better news...you get tomorrow off! We're going to spend the whole day out doing stuff, fun stuff." "Like what?" "That's a surprise...one of many surprises." "Wow. Can't wait!" "Good. So get some sleep and I'll pick you up for lunch around 12:30." "Ahh....so you're not spending the night?" "Not tonight, Sir. We'll have many more chances to do that." He saw me to the front door and we had a perfect goodnight kiss. I still missed the beard, but then again, I never could never be entirely happy with what I had. Still, my heart was thumping so deeply and I drove home on a cloud. 12. MY HONEYMOON WITH TED I'm not even really sure how much sleep I got when I woke up at 10:30 AM, but I practically jumped out of bed and started getting ready. I bet Ted wasn't as excited as I was. I kept adding things to the list of what I wanted to do today. And no, not all of them were sexual. I picked him up right on time and then we went to lunch at a retro style dinner that was popular with almost all iypes. You saw a few pairs of guys who had only just met the night before. They were easy to spot. It was a fun, casual meal. "Where to next, Brian?" "We're going to get you a car!" "What? No. You can't...I can't..." "I'm just helping you out...like a good friend would. It's going to be scorching hot this Summer and I can't have you walking everywhere then - or when it's freezing cold. I'll be working regular hours pretty soon and can't give you rides as often as you'll need them." He kept trying to think of reasons why I couldn't possibly do this, but I took him to a Ford lot that Ronnie's brother worked at. She promised they had good used cars and 'Curtis' would give me a very good deal. We got there and I was impressed with the selection -- they looked new to me. Like all men, Ted got a child-like look of glee on his face just looking at cars. he spent a good two hours just browsing and asking Curtis every single question he could think of. I was losing interest and my legs were getting tired. I excused myself to go get a Coke and rest in the waiting room. "I'll let you guys keep looking while I go take a load off. Take your time." They barely heard me. I went through two cans of Diet Coke and three innings of some televised baseball game before they finally came back. Ted decided on a 1992 Ford Bronco that wasn't quite the color he wanted, but it was perfect otherwise. Curtis and I went to his office to get the financing taken care of. He indeed gave me a very great deal and even arranged it so the payments would be made by me, but the title would be under his name. Ted was in the waiting room looked a little sunburned but very very happy. "It's ready to drive off the lot! Can you leave your car here?" "I'm sure that would be fine. Let's go!" He was thrilled, so excited. I was too, I may not be able to ever be his 'boy', but I would grow to love taking care of him. The interior was showroom perfect and even smelled new despite being seven years old. "Where to now?" "Just up ahead on Market Street. In the hipster district." He wasn't familiar with it even though he'd lived in the city way longer than I had. We were going to a funky fossil/mineral/custom jewelry shop called "Village Forge". I loved how confused Ted was as to why we were here. I led him to the jewelry counter where a punk girl who must have shared makeup tips with Ronnie greeted us. I urged him forward and said "Yes, I would like to get this man's finger measured for a ring." I don't think Ted knew what to think, do or say. She urged him to have a seat as she got out her sizing rings. I wondered if he thought he should be expecting an engagement ring or something. It was phase one of an idea I first got while watching an old Bette Davis movie with Ronnie (who thought she was Bette Davis at times) about a year ago. She was portraying Elizabeth the 1st and there was a scene where a general or something knelt down and kissed her ring. I remember thinking I'd love to show that kind of respect and devotion to a man - Ted, specifically. All would be revealed to him after the ring was finished. I'd already picked out the stone -- black tourmaline. I had a sketch of the cut and shape I wanted, When he was done getting sized, I sent him to go look around while I talked to the young lady. I showed her my sketch and we worked on a price. It was going to be great! She said I could pick it up in three weeks which seemed like forever from now. As we walked out of the store Ted asked, "So were you picking out an engagement ring for me? So soon?" "Not exactly. It's more like a gift. ,,something I've wanted to give you." "You're spoiling me so bad!" "Let's go get a drink to toast your new wheels. We can get get some appetizers there instead of eating any of that snack bar junk at the theater." "Cool. What are we going to see?" "That's up to you - there's a multiplex over on Grand and they show like eight different movies. " We ended up at a little bar and grill called Cashews where Ted had been once before and had some amazing onion rings. We shared a pitcher and a some onion rings and sliders. He wanted to talk more about his truck and how grateful he was, and he had more questions about the ring. How do you explain something like that? We ended up skipping the movie and going directly back to my place where he took off his shoes immediately. We each took turns removing articles of clothing...it was the kind of slow seduction I'd never experienced before. He wasn't all that thrilled with his body. but I loved every inch of it - some inches more than others.... He was lying spread-eagle on top of my bed...waiting. I gave his feet only a minute or two of attention before diving right for his magic wand. He still wasn't sure if he loved my nickname for his dong, but hadn't thought of anything better so.... I was becoming a magic wand expert and could get his big balls to tighten up with a few distinct moves I'd tried out. I kept a mental file of the things that made him the most vocal. Flick your tongue in and out like a hyper snake at the base of the dick and it feels amazing to the receiver. I would have been fine just taking another load in my mouth but Ted asked if he could fuck me. "Hell yeah!" "Got condoms?" "Nope. Just go in raw, Sir!" "You know we can't do that," he said sadly, with his dick still hovering close to my hole. "I'll just beat off." "No. Just go in a little bit and pull out after a minute." "I can't take that chance, Brian. Let's just chill out and be smart now." "Hold on -- let me go check in the bathroom cabinet and see if I can find a spare rubber." He was already losing his boner. Damn! I hurried off the bed and went into the bathroom. I got down and looked in the cabinet beneath the sink. There was my brand new box of condoms which I'd never opened. I found the lube and decided to bring that back to the bedroom. Maybe I could still -- a then a splatter of hot urine hit the back of my neck while I was still kneeling down. I turned around and Ted was standing there huge, naked, peeing on me. It might have been the most beautiful, most erotic visual of my life. Sadly, he didn't have a full bladder, I barely touched my cock and instantly had an intense orgasm. I crawled over and cleaned the remaining drops from his soft head. "Go hop in the shower, clean up and come back to bed." Later that night, as we were wrapped in each other's arms (my bed seemed so small with him in it) we sleepily talked a little. "Thank you for giving me a wonderful day, Brian." "Thank you for letting me give it to you." From then on, we shared our passion for water sports as often as possible. I had to give him credit for how creative he could be with it. I loved watching just going to restrooms with him so I could hold his shaft while he stood at a urinal. I actually just loved watching him go. He had this unique pee slit that was centered higher than most men's were. It gave him incredibly precise aim. He let me drink right from the tap many times even though he was a little worried about all the medications he was taking getting absorbed into my own body. I was never aware of anything unusual happening afterward. One of the most memorable occasions in our early dating days was the night we went to a sleazy bar that catered to every kind of freak out there. It had been very popular before Section opened and was now just another dying tavern. It was one of those rare nights when he didn't complain about me drinking as many beers as I wanted. He even had more than his usual number of drinks. At least place has a decent selection of classic old video games like Galaga and Ms PacMan. He'd stand and watch me rack up high scores. What I hadn't realized was that he was discretely peeing into my open beers while I wasn't looking. I eventually caught on, but didn't say anything. I don't think he ever did it again after that night but I always hoped he would. 13. TED'S RING I'd started my regular job again and almost immediately regretted the decision to come back. I was on a new floor where I didn't really know anybody now that Jana was gone. One thing anyone who's worked for a big company can tell you: the higher you climb the ladder, the less you get to do what you were hired to do in the first place. You don't get a chance to do what you're good at because you're always in meetings. Meeting after meeting after meeting. I hated being there, but tried not to bring it home to Ted. Tried. I was living at his place about half the time, but he didn't stay at mine often because of the cigar smell I just couldn't tolerate no matter how much I tried to like it. When Ted's ring was finally ready I took the rest of the day off. One of the advantages pf my new position was that I could just leave and people would just assume I was in a meeting or sitting in on a conference call somewhere. I had them put it in a proper velvet box and drove straight to his house. He was happy and surprised to see me. He'd never seen me in my business attire before. "Hey! You look like a grownup! Playin' hooky?" "Sort of. Want to take a little walk?" It was a beautiful April afternoon and the air smelled green and full of life. We strolled a few blocks to a small park that was informally called 'Rose Park' because its many rose bushes would bloom like crazy during the Summer. There was a nice pond with a fountain in the middle of it. There used to be swans until they started attacking people. "So, you really got me curious...what's up?" I stopped at a particularly scenic spot and I handed him the box. "Whoa! What.." He looked very happy, but confused and possibly a little scared. "Oh, I'd already forgotten about the ring." He opened it up and put the ring on his left ring finger. I'd meant for it to go on on his index finger, but the girl assured me his thick middle three fingers were all about the same ring size. "Fit's perfect! What's the stone?" "Black tourmaline -- it's a semi-precious gem that protects against negative energy and helps heal the mind." I remember this from Deb. I then knelt down and kissed it. He looked at me oddly. I will kiss it each time I see you -- to let you know that I'm aware of being in the presence of royalty. You are my king, Ted." "Wow. Thanks. You should get up now. You'll ruin those nice pants and there are people coming." I stayed down and kissed it again. I didn't want to embarrass him so I got up and we continued to walk. Everything looked extra green, extra beautiful. All those years spent waiting for him, the hopeless searching, those regretful sex adventures -- worth it! SO worth it! I noticed he was walking a little extra faster than usual and I wondered what he had in store for me back in his room... "I've got a surprise for you to, Brian. Well, it's for us." It turns out he'd bought himself a new digital camera and was really jazzed about it. I had one from work but had never had the time to learn how to use it. He took several shots of his new ring and then a few of me in my stupid shirt and tie. "Look like you'll have to get those pants cleaned, Babe." "I've never liked this pair... their too tight and too loose in all the wrong places." An idea blossomed. "Why don't rip them off me? Tear everything off my body and take pictures." He got a wicked smile and grabbed his bulging cock. "Everything? You sure?" Yeah, I was. "Pretend you're really pissed off at me -- get out some of that aggression." "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" He got into my idea right away, but I didn't expect he'd turn so crazy so fast. "Come over here all dressed-up like you're something special....you're just a little whore who's finally gonna get what he deserves!!" He snapped a shot of my shocked expression. "You think you're so cute -- I can take care of that real fast! You won't think that five minutes from now!" I just had to remember that I'd asked for this. Ted took my tie off in one yank, "Maybe I'll choke you a little with this - or tie up your hands." He ripped my shirt off as buttons went flying everywhere. "I'm gonna wipe my ass with this later." OK. OK. I asked for this. I asked for this. I wasn't hard at all. He kept taking pictures. picture after fucking picture. "Take the pants off yourself. I ain't got time for that shit. Wait. Give me that look again. Yeah. You look scared as hell! You should be. Just stand there shaking like a leaf. I love it. He put the camera down at last. He moved in closer for what I thought would be an embrace at least, but he just did it rip my underwear in half with both hands. He was that strong. Back to taking more pictures. "Play with that miserable little midget dick of yours. There you go. Yeah. Get nice and hard." I was getting into the spirit of this now. He got undressed fast and with no flourishes. "Now turn around. Let me see that ass that's about to get ruined. Oh yeah. I've got plans for that." He was fully erect and that made me even more excited. Magic Wand! He took several pics of his own boner before returning the lens back on me. "Don't get lazy on me, bastard. Do something!" My first instinct was to just lie down on the floor - an act of surrender. "Good thinkin', you stupid weak slut." He stood over me and looked like something from a science fiction movie. His boner was super impressive from this vantage point. More photos. And then a swift barefooted kick to my rib cage. Goddamn! I saw spinning spots of light. And then one to other side. I squinted in complete pain. (I swear I still see pics from this session show up online sometimes - Tumblr has a way of finding them and repeating them over and over. At least I looked so much younger in them). Ted then sat on the bed and indulged my love of feet by rubbing his all over my face and twisting his toes in my hair. He thought maybe I liked that too much. His next move was to use one giant foot to cover my mouth and press my nose flat. I had no way to get air and started to panic. I grabbed his thick ankle in desperation, boner completely gone. It was everything I desired and nothing I wanted all in one. He took several photos of me struggling before finally letting me breathe. "You're face is gonna be so fucked up tomorrow," he laughed, "and I'm not even done yet" More photos. At last he let me up on the bed. I was sore all over and my contacts were askew. "Don't cry you little bitch." My eyes had only been watering a little, but now I felt like I could actually just start bawling. My inner wiring was breaking down, shooting random sparks from the frayed sections. I was lost. Did you get all your breathing out of the way? Good." He sat bare-assed on my face with his fragrant hole right on my lips. If he'd given me just a little room I would have stuck my tongue up in there, but his full weight was on my face/head. He spread his cheeks and wriggled a little. I think he was trying to get some good shots of this event. I ran out of air again, and slapped at his hips in desperation. "God - you are a fussy little whore tonight. Lost my number, did you? Do you really think I ever believed that bullshit?" Fuck. This could turn out bad. But he finally climbed off of me and laughed cruelly. "Raise your arms up above you. Good. Stay like that." He used my wrinkled tie to bind my wrists together. I remember thinking how lucky I was that he didn't choke me to death with it. "Now just chill while I do some stuff." He left the room and I heard him light a cigarette. Perfect. I wanted one so badly. But I heard him bluster down the stairs. God only knows what he was planning. I had a brief fear that he was bringing that popper-sniffing roommate up here. No. He wouldn't do that. I knew they hated each other. He came back with some gross old kitchen towels, a sofa cushion and a bottle of cheap vodka. He looked at me like I was a sad, broken plaything. "OK, Brian. I'm going to be nice for a few minutes. Don't get too used to it. Here, I'll help you sit up. Need to use the bathroom? Use it now." He untied my hands and let me wobble my way to the bathroom. Could I even go? I just knew I had to avoid glimpsing myself in the mirror. I sat there. A little pee trickled out...and then nothing else. Me and my dick were both confused by all the excitement and fear. A loud knock. "Don't try escaping out the window. It hasn't opened in ten years. Are you done? I'm coming in." He barged in and took another goddamn photo. "Looks like I broke you good." He helped me up. I couldn't believe it -- he'd turned on the fucking TV. I wish I could tell you exactly what was on. Some family comedy or something. Was it over. No. I saw all the props arranged carefully on his nightstand and one of them was a knife!! Oh hell. It was not over by a long ways. "Just relax. I've got the video feature on this camera finally figured out. I'll start after you have some swigs of the alcohol I know you're always craving." He let me handle the bottle on my own and I wasted no time taking quenching sips/gulps. He was filming already. "How's the booze?" "Just fine. Can I have a smoke? Please?" "Oh. You're demanding all the sudden. What a spoiled little slut you are." He was talking for the benefit of the video now. He handed me a lit cigarette. "Oh - Do I have your consent to film you now?" "Yes." "What do you think about being on camera right now?" I took a giant swig of the awful vodka. "Look at him guzzle the hooch, folks." I just wanted to be numb, deadened. Let him be Steve Irwin if he wanted. Or whatever that guy's name was. He was filming a documentary. "And you're fully aware of what's about to happen? About what you're accepting?" No. I wasn't. But whatever. I was spinning. "Yes." "Say it again. Louder." "YES." "So you're agreeable to having sex, anal sex with an HIV positive man with no protection?" "Yes." "Would you say you're too drunk to know what you're agreeing to?" "No. Just drunk enough to admit it." "Explain," "I've been wanting you to bareback me for a long time but you would never do it." He gave me a thumbs up out of camera range. "And you're fully aware of the possible consequences of doing this?" "I am." He stopped filming. "That was very good, Brian." "Yeah...but what the fuck was the interview about?" "My protection. If you start having second thoughts after we're done and want to report me - I'll have some legal protection. One of my buddies from a yahoo group told me how to do it." "Is that why you wouldn't do it before -- because you didn't have a way to film my consent?" "Partly. I also wasn't sure I wanted that kind of responsibility if you became sick. Maybe the ring you gave me was the thing that let me know I could give you this 'gift' and you'd still be with me." I took that opportunity to reach for his hand and kiss the ring again. "Do you want to be on your back? Or on your knees?" "On my back." I said a little too quickly. He chuckled. "That's what I figured. Stand up f or a second and let me arrange stuff." I stood up and he did the most surprising thing: he sucked my dick for about ten seconds. And then he took a long pull off the bottle. "Wow. That's terrible shit." He arranged the towels carefully in the middle of the bed and placed the cushion right above them. He'd brought along a plastic bottle of of lube I hadn't noticed before. He still didn't explain the knife, but I wasn't especially worried now. I took one more gulp of the vodka even though my stomach was already burning. "OK. Get comfortable." He adjusted me a little and let me lie back with a nice pillow under my head. "Want your hands tied up again?" "Yeah. Cool." He picked up my ruined tie and tied them again - a little looser this time. "What about being gagged? Are you cool with that?" He asked in a way that suggested he wanted me to agree to that too. "Yeah." "Excellent. I know just what to use." He looked around and found one of his socks on the floor. He balled it up and stuffed it in my mouth. "How's that?" I nodded. "Good." It was about to begin. He adjusted my bare ass on the cushion a little and then started lubing me up with great globs of the lube, "Damn. You're tighter than fuck, Babe. Try to relax. I should have been having you use a dildo for awhile first. Oh well - that's why I brought the towels." He kept working his fat fingers into me and I thought I could probably handle his dick now. He started up the video and we began. "You're looking beautiful, young man. Ready to get pozzed?" I nodded. But was I? I was. I'd known this would eventually happen. "It will hurt at first...you know that, right?" I nodded again. Oh it hurt all right. But I knew the head of his cock was the fattest part and the rest would be no problem. Magic Wand. He held the camera with one hand and really went for it. I let myself yell because it would be muffled and make his video even better. "Don't fight it...don't fight it. I'm in! Oh yeah, Feels so good in there. So hot inside. Yeahhh." He leaned into me until he was pubes deep. Fuck! It was as close as we could ever get to one another - body and soul. He pumped slow at first and then faster, always with the camera angle in mind. He was really sweating heavily, which I loved but made me wonder if maybe he should get his heart checked out by a doctor. His grunts were deep and loud. There was very little pain now -- just wave after wave of intense pleasure that left me trembling. I'd never forget this --not one single detail. "OK..." He lifted up his torso until he could hold the camera with both hands. He took the sock out of my mouth. "I'm about to shoot my load. You want it?" "Yes. Knock me up, Sir!" "Here it comes...Unnggghhh! Yeah! I'm cumming!!!! Welcome to the club, Sweetheart! We share dna now." He was so wet and shiny with sweat. "Thank you." "Wait. We're not done just yet." He untied my wrists and let me hold the camera. I framed his face perfectly even though my arms were shaking a little. He mugged and smiled like he was Brad Pitt pr something. He reached over for the knife. Oh God. Of all the things he could do - he made a cut on his right index finger. !!!! "This is to make sure you get the virus in case all my little swimmers can't get the job done. He shoved that cut finger into my sore ass and let it stay there for almost a full minute. He took the camera from me so he could get a close-up. EDIT: I have to give Ted credit for never sharing this video online. Unlike a few of the pics, I haven't seen it anywhere on any of the breeding, bareback or related sites. But if you do happen to see it please forward a link to me via this site, Thanks. He let me have the shower first while he went downstairs to tend to his cut. There wasn't all that much blood, really. Just a small red blotch on the top towel that could have just as easily come from the over-eager cut he made to himself. I got cleaned up and had no idea what clothes I could put on now. So I just toweled off and sat in his little living room to watch TV. The evening news. I really loved Clinton. He was the first President I ever voted for (twice). Ted walked in and tossed me some underwear, shorts, socks, and a beat-up pair of tennis shoes. "Here. My roommate left these behind and you guys were about the same size." Sure. They seemed clean. "Where is he?" "Oh, he moved out. He met some guy online - from Iowa, I think - and he just left to go live with him. Didn't even fill two suitcases with his shit. I told you -- I have a knack for driving people away. But not you! You can move in now and we'll fix the place up." Hmm. Was I ready for that? Did I want that? While he showered, I watched some show on PBS about feral children found in the woods. It was absorbing but very sad. I dressed in the clothes I'd been given. It was all a little tight, but the shoes were maybe a size too big. Damn - did everybody in the world have bigger feet than me? I had Mom's feet and they were petite and slender. Ugh. "All clean!" Ted had dressed and combed his hair and possibly put on a little cologne. "We need food, baby!" I was guessing it was around 9:30 or 10:00 based on the news being on. We'd have to get cable if I was going to live here. "Where?" "White Castle! Of course!" That actually sounded good. I felt like a big slob in these clothes but whatever. My face was a little banged up and there was a red toenail scratch on my cheek. Ted drove and we ate inside the place instead of doing the drive-thru because he never ate in his new truck. I swear -- he ate about twenty of those sliders and fries too. I just ate enough to soak up the vodka acid and regain some strength. "We're going to be farting tonight!" He was happy and I was still so full of thoughts. "Cheer up, Brian. We'll stop for some drinks at Pals and say 'hi' to Sammy...and James, if he's still lucid." Perfect. I'd order some top shelf booze to erase the memory of that Walmart Vodka away. 14. LETTING TED GO I can't really say when the beginning of the end started. My job was slowly killing me. I was just another rat chasing after a bigger piece of cheese. The money was great, but my mood was usually foul. I'd sometimes sneak a few of Ted's mental pills without knowing what I was swallowing. Nothing helped. I was miserable. Living with Ted was not exactly easy at first. I ended up buying the house from the owner who was old and only too eager to sell. It was basically a steal. And probably a good investment since the neighborhood was slowly improving as those house-flippers moved in. Work kept me from doing much to the house but Ted assured me he would get things going. He would start projects but never finish them. He would always get bored and move on to something else. Half-painted walls. missing outlet covers, random sheets of stripped wallpaper hanging like peeling skin. I was so exhausted by the time I'd get home from work that I barely even noticed or cared at all. That was another issue. He resented all the time I spent at work because it wasn't time I could be spending with him, kissing his ring and offering up my body. I remember once coming home for lunch and he wanted a nice. long foot massage. This had lost so much of its erotic appeal to me and I went back to work with the smell of his feet on my hands. His sexual appetite never went away. Nor did his desire to take pictures of everything. The abusive part of our play starting going a little too far. All of his frustration with me came out in the verbal assaults and the punches and kicks delivered to my restrained body were his way of coping. He cracked a few of my ribs once. My only outlet was punishing him with my absence. I worked late or spent evenings at Pals. Oh - that's the other thing. He quit working there because his back was bothering him all the time. It was just as well. I had my bar back. I'd spend hours just getting drunk and spilling my guts out to Sammy. "Honey. Maybe it's time to cut your losses. Find yourself something to make life fun again. You once said you liked to draw -- well, pursue that somehow. Start a website. Take some classes and meet some new people." "I let him infect me with HIV. What;s the point in doing any of that now?" "Shut the fuck up. I've been poz for almost fifteen years now, Lester for over twenty and the treatments are getting better and better. You've got a good doctor and good insurance and that makes all the difference," "I should have never gone back to that company. I'm going to put some feelers out there for something else." "One more drink and then I have to cut you off. I'm not going to let you sit here night after night and become another James." I ended up going over to Rick's house and spending the night. Ted never asked about those nights I didn't come home. He knew the score because he'd lived through it before. I was moving away from him just like all the other men in his life had. I was miserable, mad and disappointed but I had no idea what he was feeling because I never bothered to ask. I was an asshole, but I felt every bit entitled to be one. 15. TED DISAPPEARS I had spent most of the night at Pals and cried into my boilermakers. I was feeling sorry for myself full-time by then. Sammy had all but given up trying to put me on another path. I went home and slept on the couch with the TV on. I didn't hear Ted clomping around and had to wonder if he hadn't decided to spend the night out somewhere for revenge. I didn't care. I really didn't care. I woke up and it was morning already. Shit. I wouldn't be going in to work today. I no longer had to ask for days off. I just called my personal assistant and told her. "Might as well. Nothing's getting done here today anyway." "Why?" "You haven't seen the news this morning?" "No -- I've been sick all night and..." my eyes moved to the TV screen and one of the world trade center buildings was collapsing in great clouds of ash and smoke. What the fuck? I hung up the phone and watched in horror. It was an attack. It was Pearl Harbor live and in vivid color. Ted always slept until noon but he needed to see this. Gone. His bed was there but almost nothing else was. He left trash and one bathroom towel hanging over the shower curtain rod. He must have packed and moved on while I was gone the previous day or night. I went downstairs and there was no sign of any of his stuff. Except. Except for the ring. It was on top of a little sheet of paper. A note. Brian - I'm not leaving you. You left me a long time ago. His truck was gone. There should be a new word for when grief and relief are combined. And add in a mix of 'not surprised'. I had the TV and the horrific events of 9/11 to distract me for the next 24 hours. But I ultimately had to shut it off and go to Pals. Sammy had shut off the TV there as well. Lester was there and as well as James who was nearly coherent. It was a sobering day in every way possible. Sam had shots already poured for us. "They didn't actually attack the white house - they got the pentagon instead. I had to turn it off. They won't know anything for sure for a day or two. Playing hooky again?" "Yeah. Ted took off...I mean - he left. For good." "Well - it's not like I expected you to bring any good news. but Jesus!" He poured us two more shots before we'd even touched the first ones. "How you feeling?" "Not sure yet. You already knew it was headed for this." "Yeah. But it still hurts, You can mourn for everything you hoped it would be and never was." "I've already passed through most of that." I downed the shots quickly. 16. SIX MONTHS AGO So much time has passed. So many things are different. Rick eventually moved in with me and took over renovating the house. He just turned 63 and still gets up every morning at dawn and gets to work on one of the houses we're flipping. That's what we do now. I retired from my old job after I was diagnosed with chronic heart failure. There's not much they can do for me now. Rick wants me to get on a transplant list, but I've nixed that. I've lived my life...mostly as a jerk, but I like to think I had some good moments. James died. Lester died. Sammy is still alive and kicking and doing volunteer work for an animal shelter. Ronnie got married to some foreign doctor and lives in Ireland now. Her kids are cute. I would every so often try and Google Ted, but he had a pretty common first and last name and so the searches were pointless. I'd started an Instagram account for Rick and I's business and tried searching for Ted on there. Bingo! I found his profile picture. He was at least 450 pounds with a full white beard and glasses. He was smiling at least. It was a private account. I put in a request to follow him but still haven't been permitted. It's OK. At least he's alive and still finding a reason to smile. END

He is still cool in my book. He wasn't a serial abuser like Cosby -- he just did some dumb stuff. Maybe I'm biased because I find him hot and "American Beauty" is one of my favorite movies of all time. My two pennies for ya.

Thanks, man. And thanks to everybody who said such nice things. My surgery has been postponed because my surgeon decided I wasn't mentally ready for it. I guess I made one too many morbid comments yo nurses and aides about dying. It kills me the way medical professionals say "Try to be positive!", not knowing what that wording implies in our community. So I have to go to go get some mental health counseling before going under the knife. Thanks again.

Firstly, guys who strictly top aren't all that common. You might be better off trying to find someone versatile who may prefer being dominant or is fine with either role. In these cases, you're going to have to be the top every so often. I remember seeing a post here or in a yahoo group from some guy in L.A. who said he'd be fine with being a bottom only if he could get away with it. If you cannot even imagine fucking a hole, try personal ads or going to a bathhouse. I was born too late to come out during the era when guys wore handkerchiefs in their back pockets that indicated what they were into and which position they enjoyed. Too bad that trend never returned. How old are you? I didn't meet too many confirmed tops in my youth but they're out there. Keep trying and good luck.

Author's note: Hi guys. I started working on this story earlier this Summer, but had a heart attack somewhere near the middle of it. The story was obviously put on a back burner while I was hospitalized and then later recovering. I blame no one but myself and my fondness for cigarettes along with any kind of alcohol I happened to have on hand. I'd never once written a story here on BZ while not smoking and drinking. I wondered if I'd ever finish "A Zombie Love Story" without my Marlboro Lights and a beer next to me. I'd lost interest in even trying. Eventually, I returned to this tale with a real desire to finish it. It was like a neglected child to me. I'd changed and my writing style had changed. "Zombie" got much longer as well as more detailed and personal. It's quite long but if you just want to go to the sex scenes, It wouldn't hurt my feelings. Just skip to parts 4, 10 and 12. I've got open heart surgery scheduled for a week. I'll be M.I.A. for a long time. I really want to crank out one more story before then but we'll wait and see. Be well, be hard and get your blood pressure checked often. Strokes and heart failure can happen at any age. Toon art by ToonKC THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION 1. The Zombie Apocalypse happened decades ago and you probably didn't even know it since it was very localized and happened before the Internet really took off. It wasn't anything like what we've all seen in movies. I could get in real trouble for repeating any of this and even once signed a document saying I'd never reveal even the smallest detail. So if you never see my screen name again, it means they caught me and I'm rotting away in some federal prison. That's okay -- I'm rotting already. 2. 1990 Bollard, Kansas The zombies first appeared that October, a few days after my 18th birthday. Bollard is a small agricultural town not too far from Wichita (which was a huge city to me back then). The centerpiece of our town was a row of ten giant grain elevators. We were next to railroad tracks and surrounded by wheat. corn and soy bean farms. Our 'downtown' was nothing to brag about but there was a pool hall where I ended up spending many quarters playing whatever heap of a pinball machine they had. The customer base at Randy's consisted of retired farmers, day drinkers and delinquents. I hadn't claimed a label of my own yet when I first went there as a kid, but it's pretty much where I turned bad. It turns out there was an illegal bar and poker table in back of this really grimy grocery next door store where nobody I knew ever bought actual food. It was tiny, dim and smelled like old fruit. Old guys would go in and not come out for hours. It was just one of those places you went when you needed to get drunk in a very dry county. Fucking Kansas. I made most of my friends at the pool hall. Mitch, Mike, Mac, Kurt, Ted -- all bad students and very eager to get out of this town. It isn't so hard to be friends with black sheep when you're an undersized, anti-social little nerd. Most of them had access to cars because they grew up on farms where kids learn to drive very early. They also knew how to get their hands on booze, weed and cigarettes. I'm not endorsing tobacco use, but other smokers tend to be pretty sociable if you also have a cig in your mouth. So my peer group smelled and coughed a lot -- so what? I was also pals with the bad girls they inevitably ended up with. Big tits, cheap jewelry, too much makeup, filthy mouths and strong sexual appetites. I was of no real interest to them except as as a 'buddy'. I listened to them and that seemed to be enough since they barely even listened to each other. I was just a misfit who fell in with other misfits. Probably the biggest misfit/oddball/castoff of all was Robbie Tyler. I'd known him since the first day of kindergarten even though he sometimes went to 'special' classrooms. We all naturally assumed he was maybe retarded or something, but he was actually a genius. Genius! Seriously? He couldn't sit still, couldn't concentrate and often talked or sang to himself. He was always reading but never turned in assignments. Robbie was mostly shunned in grade school but somehow fell into my crowd after junior high. He was good for a laugh. I tried getting to know him at times, but it was like talking to some crazy radio that kept changing stations and volume. For whatever reason, he'd seek me out during the school day and at our little delinquent gatherings. The others, while mostly tolerant of this guy, seemed grateful that I kept him from wrecking their buzz. Babysitter. "Hey Scott...come get this tard away from me." I always did and was usually repaid with a free beer. And then the most bizarre rumors started. I first heard about it from my parents at the breakfast table. My dad was a chemist or something at the grain elevator. I was never sure because I never bothered to ask. My mom was a volunteer at the nursing home on Pine Street. Apparently, Mrs. Marn Johanson was telling a crazy tale about how she found her husband lying dead in the backyard vegetable garden. I guess she checked for a pulse and everything. After she went in to call for an ambulance, he disappeared. He was technically just 'missing' according to the county sheriff. She swears he was dead...very, very dead. She was not known to be a kook or a drinker - so nobody knew quite what to think. She was just an ordinary, old Kansas farm wife. Any unusual news spreads fast in a small town. It wasn't even in our sad little newspaper but people talked about it. "Oh, I'm sure he's dead somewhere," Dad announced after his second cup of coffee, "but he's probably out in one of his fields or pastures." Mom was usually quiet in the mornings, but this had captured her attention. "She swears up and down that he was dead. Why would she make that up?" "She's in her 70's...probably Alzheimers. My uncle Joe got it when he was only 58." I just ate my cereal and kept quiet. Maybe coyotes carried his carcass away while she was on the phone. We'd had a very long drought and wild animals were doing anything they could to survive. Aliens? I believed very much in extraterrestrials back then. But what could they want with some old guy's dead body? I didn't think much more about it until I got to school where everyone was talking about the supposed 'body snatchers'. Study hall was my first class and we usually just played Uno for an hour, but today the missing corpse was too important to not discuss. There were a few serious students in first period and they usually read or proofread homework but even they were talking about old Mr. Johanson. "I think God took his body so he could remove the soul." Good old Kimberly Clark. She was kind of slow, very religious and cross-eyed. "Maybe he was just faking and wanted to leave her fat ass." "She probably just dreamed it." I let them all talk while I wandered off to somewhere quiet. Of course Robbie followed me. I guess we were friends or something but I really wanted some peace. "Scotty! Are you prepared for Judgement Day?! Ha ha. Seriously...have you ever had a blood transfusion?" What the fuck? "No. Why?" "Because you can't be resurrected if you have transferred blood or replacement joints or fake organs." "I don't care. I don't even want to come back..I just want to feed the worms." "Yeah...but what if you no longer had that option? What if there is no death anymore?" I'd never thought about it, Robbie was wearing moccasins that had been worn so long that you could see the you could see the outline of his toes through the leather. "Jesus, Robbie! I can't deal with you today!" Some heads in the room swiveled around to look our way. The bell rang and I was relived to go to my AP English class. The story didn't go away. My own mother was convinced something weird was happening. She came home from her shift at the nursing home and reported that two of the residents had vanished. "They were both on the brink of death with failing hearts. Mrs. Bynum couldn't even walk and needed Oxygen, but she was gone and her tank was still in the room. How on Earth could she just disappear??" Dad had no answers which made me uncomfortable. Parents - especially dads - were supposed to know everything. It can come as a heavy blow when you realize your mom and dad are just human beings after all. We did what we always did which was go about our routine as if everything was normal. Things were not normal. New stories about walking corpses were popping up daily. Tracy Brewer ( a junior) claimed she had seen a naked old man wandering through her backyard. She was one of the popular kids and not known to be a liar. It wasn't one of those old legends like the famous talking skeleton that was supposedly lurking near Burke Creek. This was so new and random, and seemed to be spreading fast. New sightings were popping up almost weekly. My sort-of buddy Mac claimed he'd seen one behind his dad's shed and shot it in the head with his own rifle and the thing didn't do anything but slow down a little. Christ. Mac was known for a lot of petty crimes but nobody could call him a bullshitter. 3. Looking back, it was the dumbass owner/editor of our town's newspaper that took everything to a horrible new level... This will be the first and LAST time this particular issue will addressed by our publication. There are ridiculous rumors being spread around town and they need to stop now!! This proud Christian township is above supernatural voodoo gossip. THERE ARE NO WALKING CORPSES here are anywhere!!!! WE ARE TOO GOOD FOR THIS! It can only damage our reputation and future economic prospects. If you claim to believe any of this rubbish you should probably seek spiritual counseling at your nearest church! Anybody on my school paper's newspaper could write better than this idiot. He was a known drunk and his daughter Amy was the biggest pot head at BHS. Hardly anybody ever even glanced at The Bollard Gazette -- but somebody somewhere did. The national guard moved in four days later. And then it got even more serious. Helicopters were constantly circling above. Everybody's phone service was cut off, mail didn't go in or out and blockades were set up at every route out of town. Even the tiniest dirt roads were guarded with some seriously armed weaponry. It all happened so fucking fast. "How are we supposed to buy things we need??" Mom was so stressed out that she couldn't do anything but shake and cry. Dad just angry and stomped around letting his blood pressure climb to dangerous levels. He only ever got this way when he couldn't go to work. There was no school but a bunch of us gathered there at the locked front doors for answers to frantically talked questions. That's how I found out that there was a big town meeting being called at the football field next to the park. The government or somebody was going to finally tell us what was going on. Attendance wasn't mandatory, but no way was anybody going to miss it. It was happening that evening at 6 PM. Wild speculations were flying around over,under and through my range of hearing. I got dizzy from the hysteria and decided to just take a walk somewhere quiet. Probably not the best idea to want solitude when nobody was at work or in school because there was always a person wandering somewhere. But the last place I knew of where a normal human would never go during a zombie invasion was a cemetery...so that was my destination. How dangerous could it be if there weren't even any army guys guarding it? The town was small but very old and so the graveyard was pretty large. There were gravestones dating back to 1870. It was as peaceful and lonely as I'd imagined it would be. It was a perfect Hollywood stereotype of what an old rural cemetery should like like a few weeks before Halloween. Yellow, brown and orange leaves skittered around my feet and made that weirdly comfortable crunching sound with each step. I'd only been here a few times in my life and never all the way to its farthest boundaries. There was a row of hedge trees at the end and I finally saw them up close. Nothing special. There was a slight stench of the rotting hedge apples on the ground. They're ugly and not edible to humans (as far as I know). I knew that country guys threw them like snowballs at each other. Gross. I didn't really believe in a god, but I always thanked some force in the universe that my dad wasn't a farmer. Just being gay was hard enough without the added pressure of being forced into mundane chores and the like. Kids born into farm life don't get to be kids very long. Yeah, I was gay. GAY. I didn't let myself dwell on that detail very often if I could help it. Of course my peace would be interrupted. About 80 feet away was somebody walking around. Fucking hell. I wondered if it could be one of the 'living dead'. I hadn't seen one yet. Just as I got a little excited I realized it was just a regular alive person. Well, not 'regular' -- it was fucking Robbie. Last person I wanted to see. He was quickly loping along in that singularly retarded way anyone could immediately recognize. 4. "Hey Scotty!" Nobody had called me that since junior high. "Just 'Scott' will do, thank you." "Oh! I'm so so very sorry, Mr. Lonely Scott," he said with a British accent for some reason. "What are you doing out here?" "Uh - I wanted to be alone and not talk to people." I emphasized the word 'alone', but of course he didn't take a hint. "But, there are zombies lurking about!" (still with the British accent) So far, there was no reports of these so-called zombies hurting anyone. There was a sense they just weren't the least bit menacing. Supposedly. His eyes were wide open with mock terror. Damn - if he cleaned himself up a little and stopped acting crazy, I'd possibly consider him 'hot'. I wasn't currently attracted to him but my tone changed. "Is there anything not weird about you, Robbie?" I offered him a hint of a smile. "Maybe...but I try to rid myself of any trait that would be deemed acceptable or expected." "Obviously." "I usually only come out here at night, but the Ouija board told me I'd find you here today." "Yeah. Whatever." "No. Really. That's also how I knew you were gay and would probably want to suck my big dick." Fucking retard. "Are you insane? I've been the only person in town to ever give you a chance, and now you say shit like that?! I'm going home." I walked away and felt my cheeks get warm with something that wasn't entirely what you'd call 'anger'. As I stomped back toward the entrance. I was embarrassed,disturbed and yet also curious. How did he know? I'd tried so hard to suppress any kind of homo signals I might possibly give off. I can remember the word for word definition of 'fellatio' in our big dictionary at home: Oral stimulation of the penis I was probably only 11 or 12 years old when I chanced upon that word and I knew I wanted to do that to a man. I'd imagined how a penis would feel in my mouth and how it would taste -- many, many times. I'd even tried to suck my own dick but only succeeded in spontaneously having my first ejaculation all over my face. Puberty may have been delayed for a few years but masturbation found me early. I'd wanted a dick - any dick -for so long. Was relief from this fever, this lust be worth having that penis belong to Robbie? I was so unsure, but found myself turning around back to him....only to find he had been following me as I pondered. His fly was open and his big ol' organ was completely hard, purple and oozing. "I...I guess...we could go hang out back by the trees." My voice sounded like a child's. "No way. Look how close I am...I'll shoot my load before we get back there. Now. Here." "No! What if somebody sees?!" Robbie nodded toward a little family mausoleum and I followed him as if I were in a trance. It was a limestone structure that was about the size of a 7-11. And I swear the temperature was 20 degrees warmer behind it. I took off my yellow windbreaker and Robbie dropped his pants completely. Of course he didn't have to give me instructions -- I already knew what I wanted and how I wanted to do it. I knelt down at his feet and immediately put my lips to the dripping head of his dick. I remember the first thing I noticed is that there wasn't a bad taste or smell at all. I guess I expected everything down there to be nasty, but I could tell he'd recently showered. That in itself was odd because this guy had always looked a little unwashed to me. There was no school to be fresh for and there had been whispers about how the town's water supply being cut off. Bollard citizens had pretty much let their personal hygiene go by the wayside these days. Possibly Robbie knew I'd be here after all. I have to chuckle now when I look back on this because my appetite was no competition for my damn gag reflex. It's always been an issue for me. Even today, my brain tells me I could deep-throat the empire state building but once a dick gets a little past the back of my tongue, I come close to vomiting. Every. fucking. time. "It's okay, Scotty...take just the tip for now. Feels so good!" I found a good rhythm that seemed to be good for both of us and he started thrusting his narrow hips while holding the back of my head. "I'm almost there." Now was the moment I'd never bothered to plan for. His thrusts became spasms before I could really think too much about it. Sperm. I now had hot sperm from another man's penis in my mouth -- all over my tongue, gums and teeth. Everybody uses words like "shoot" or "erupt", but this was so gentle and slow. It was like getting tablespoons of hot, heavenly honey poured between my lips. You could almost even call it romantic. But what now? I also hadn't planned on what I might feel afterward. I just stood back up and felt what I would later realize was fear and vulnerability. "Thanks, Scotty. That was amazing." He took his time putting that fat penis away as it slowly softened. "I..I.." "Hush, baby. You feel weird, don't you?" 'Weird' was hardly a big enough word for my emotions. It was maybe more like 'fear'. "No. I guess. A little." "It was your first time -- at least that's what the Ouija board told me." "Enough! Give me a minute before you start in with your bullshit." We walked a full ten seconds before he had to start talking again. "I come out here all the time." "To the cemetery? Why?" "You really don't know about this place? About what goes on here?" "No. What?" "Well, there are about four gay guys in this town and a few more who are curious. I won't name names, but one of them lives on your block." We stayed quiet for a bit and crunched the leaves beneath us. I let him set the walking pace which was slowing down. I almost hated the lack of conversation now. I needed noise and time and other unnameable things. I think I wanted to have had this experience but also forget it ever happened. "So you come out here and let them give you blow jobs?" "Oh yeah. I do lots of stuff here. I get sucked, suck and fuck and a few other things." Fucking? I had only a vague idea of what gay men did for sex. I knew the gist of it from all the AIDS pamphlets we were given over the years. We had this information but any discussion of it in the classroom was forbidden by the school board. I knew I wanted a man to fuck me even though I couldn't even begin to imagine it. "Aren't you worried about AIDS" "Hell no. I like the dangerous edge of a deadly disease now. Once you get used to fucking it get's a little bit like watching reruns...you want new things. I once pissed on a guy - his idea-and I really liked it." "But aren't you scared of getting really, really sick? Before they cut our cable services here I saw a documentary about people with AIDS. Scary shit! Some people go blind and you get these weird sores all over your face face." "Was any of that happening anywhere near fucking Bollard, Kansas?" He had a point. "No...the scariest thing about this town is the zombies and even they are harmless." Maybe he was healthy. "But I thought you wanted danger?" "Oh I found my danger, don't you worry." "What? Where? " "I'll show you eventually, Scotty. Be patient for now because we need to get a few things settled first." "Oh. Okay. Such as what?" He was quiet for awhile which was very unusual for Robbie. No humming, whistling or saying random words under his breath. It's at that point that I felt a little scared...a small cold pebble of fear was forming in my stomach. "The way I see it, Scotty...you are trapped now. I can blackmail you. I could get anything from you now. I could threaten to tell the whole school or even your parents what you sucked my dick and swallowed my semen unless you agree to give me cash. Your family has more money than most people around here." Fuck fuck fuck. I needed to sit down because my heart was racing and I couldn't breathe. I just plopped down on the dead leaves and leaned back on a cold granite gravestone. "Nobody listens to you, asshole. They have all tuned you out since the second grade. You're words mean nothing." I was nearly eye-level with his crotch again. "Maybe, maybe. But remember our school is full of social sharks...even a hint of your sexuality would be like the smell of blood to them. They might call me a 'liar' but they'll be watching you more closely. You want the last six months of high school to be a living nightmare?" 5. I just couldn't help but stare at the zipper of his ancient jeans. I was trapped like an animal but I still admired the hefty bulge of the penis I'd sampled only a few minutes ago. "I...I... How much money do you want. I have less than three hundred dollars in my savings account. I won't have access to the trust fund my grandpa left for me until I'm 25." Robbie tussled my hair with his long fingers and sat down next to me. "Relax. I won't say a word...on one condition: You have to be my friend." "That's all?" "That's my final offer. I would've said 'and you have to be in love with me' but I am willing to settle for just your friendship. For now. Oh, and you have to spend Halloween weekend with me. Three full days of just you and me" I was so relieved. I thought he had me over a barrel. I could be his pal but I didn't think I had the capacity to "love". I could say 'I love you' to family members and such without once meaning it. I was probably missing that chromosome (thanks to Dad's side of the family). I agreed to his terms and he helped me to my feet again. The pact having been made, we continued walking toward the cemetery's entrance. It crept me out how silent he was. I needed to break the silence. "Are you going to the big meeting tonight?" He just shrugged. "Why? They're just going to lie to us. There's some kind of contagion here and they'll claim it's a rare virus or pollution or something." After living through the Reagan administration and two years of George Bush Sr., I had absolutely no reason to trust our government. "Then what is it? What's causing this?" "Smell the air, my new best friend...You can always detect a hint of pesticide or herbicide or fungicide or fertilizer riding every breeze. We are contaminated. The chemicals are in our water,air and soil. Agriculture is the culprit. A very specific mixture just happened to occur right here, above the aquifer or maybe upwind from something "That's your theory?" "Yup. I suppose it could be some kind of military testing, but that's such a horror movie cliche. Still...Did you see 'Return of the Living Dead'?" "No. I wanted to but, now, I guess I never will now. You saw it?" "Yeah. Twice. My guardian hardly ever let's me use her car so I walked all the way to Wichita. I can do it any time I want. I'm going to take you there sometime soon. Show you my source of danger." That was one long walk! A bunch of questions wanted to come out but I kept quiet. How could we get to Wichita when the army was surrounding the town. What was this so-called 'danger' he was so enamored with...and why? We were almost to the front gate when he abruptly stopped and grabbed my hand which reminded me of how big his hands were (or how little mine were). "Kiss me. Scotty." I eagerly stretched my neck up as our lips met. It was my first kiss. I suddenly understood why people kissed in the first place. It was a common connection to something glorious. In exactly none of my pornographic fantasies were lips used for anything other than sweaty sex acts. I might have just now tasted love for the first time in my life. Voices. Other people were near us now and I wanted to let go of Robbie's giant hand but he just grasped mine harder. Small panic. "Dude -- there's a bunch of people wandering around on the street -- they can see us." He just squeezed my hand reassuringly. "There are much bigger stories happening all around us, Scotty. Two best friends holding hands is hardly headline news right now." A felt a drop of cold sweat creep down my forehead. So many things had happened in the last hour. I was now glad he was sharing his strength with me, an unfamiliar confidence he was now charging me with. Who knew a simple touch could accomplish so much? I had needed this my whole life. I suddenly didn't really care about what people thought or said about me. Instead of going home to meet my parents to get ready for the town meeting I just walked through the park near our public swimming pool, long since drained and locked up. Robbie and I just talked about our lives and dreams, fears and hopes, everything...and then some. I felt a little relieved that he'd resumed his regular routine of crazy babbling, singing and oddly accurate imitations of celebrities like Jesse Jackson, Mae West and that sergeant guy from 'Full Metal Jacket'. It was mesmerizing and comfortably distracting now. Following my new friend's lead, we'd made our way to the grimy 'speakeasy' located in the back of that shitty grocery store I mentioned earlier in the tale. "We should get good and drunk as we toast our agreement." I guess it was cool because Robbie's legal guardian was a regular there, slumped at the bar with probably her fifth or sixth cocktail clenched in one fat hand. "Hey Ed, Henry and Joe...and hello to you too, Donna." She looked at him with a bewildered, angry squint. "What the hell are you doin' here? And who is this kid?" "This my friend, Scott. I've mentioned him several times." "You? With a friend? HA!" "Fuck off, you old cow. Hey barkeep...two vodka tonics if you please." He was talking with an Italian accent now. I just stood there embarrassed, feeling as if was on Mars. "We ain't got no tonic you dumb-ass. I got 7-Up if that works." "Forget it, Clyde. Just two double shots of whiskey...and put it on Donna's tab." She let loose with a string of slurred curse words as we made our way through the cigar haze to a wobbly little table. "SHE is your guardian??" "Not anymore. Once I turned 18, her obligation officially ended. Luckily she has no idea how old I am or even when my birthday is." "When was your birthday?" "Yesterday. I'm actually 19 now...I got held back a year because they thought I was 'delayed'. I've got one or two mental issues." "Possibly three, Robbie." He laughed, "But happy birthday anyway." We clinked the barely-clean glasses of Wild Turkey and sat there, just looking into each other's eyes like two infatuated characters in an old movie. "What time is it? My mom and dad are probably wondering where I am." "Your parents seem like the kind of people who go everywhere early just to get decent parking. Am I right?" He was indeed right...eerily so. 'Getting a good seat' was also a priority of theirs. I noticed the grimy illuminated clock above the shelf of liquor bottles. It read 1:30 PM. By 6, the whole town would have worked itself into a massive panic that would never be even slightly tempered. I wasn't looking forward to the event. "Want to blow the meeting off?" "Great idea, Scotty. Let's go back to my house and take a little nap. I need to take some pills anyway. Sound good?" "Sure." We drained our shots and headed back out onto Main Street. There was a textbook October feel in the air as we walked South toward his place. I didn't know what to expect. Would he want sex again? I wasn't sure I was ready for anything more than what we'd already done. "What are you looking so serious about?" "Oh...I don't know. Just thinking. Maybe I was thinking that you wasted one of the wishes your genie gave you." "Huh?" "You didn't have to bribe me to be your friend, you psycho son of a bitch. I was already your friend." 6. Here's the gist of what some shifty by-the-book military guy told Bollard citizens that evening: 1. The 'specimens' had all been contained as of now. He never once used the word 'zombie'. 2. They were not dangerous and posed no immediate threat. There'd been no evidence that they were contagious but warned us to 'stay away from them in them as a precaution'. 3. Many services would be restored within 24 hours. Fuel, food, safe water would soon be available to us at no cost. The phones would be working again, but only to contact a government number for questions and/or concerns. Mail, however, was 'temporarily' subject to censorship. It seemed that all of this was being done to protect us. 4. The president had decided our whole area would soon become a national park. For that reason, the blockade would remain until relocation was complete. He assured us that we would be well compensated for our property and inconvenience. That's it. My parents and I ambled home and Dad was infuriated by all that was not said. "What about our jobs? What caused this? What about Scott's education? How's he going to graduate after not completing his final semester?" He continued ranting as Mom stared at her walking feet, silently mouthing little words. Praying. Everyone on our block was gathering on each other's porches, talking up a storm. It was the kind of thing that usually happened on lazy Summer evenings with fireflies dotting the air above perfect lawns. The kids would race up and down the block and adults discretely passed a bottle or two (or five) of wine. The first voice I heard after I was almost home was Mrs. Vogel's from next door... "I just want to know if this is going to be over before Christmas. My sister and her family were supposed to come up here from Texas." That was were biggest concern? Seriously? The Vogels had a son my age but we never hung out much. Even as a little kid, he was rough, sports-loving guy. Toby Vogel. The big news in 8th grade was that he had lost his virginity to Kim Ratzlaff, the biggest slut in the grade above us. A year later, half of the guys in my class supposedly had sex whereas I hadn't so much as seen a dirty magazine. After our freshman year, people having sex was not even that big a deal to anyone but me. Toby was sitting on our porch swing when the crowd had moved over to our porch. We made eye contact so I guess I had to at least go over and say hi. "Hey, Scott. Where's your gang of scuzzballs?" Me and the other losers were known by that term even though we ourselves preferred 'Scuzzies'. So much for trying to be friendly. People never change - even when the world is ending. I moved over with the adults and listened in. My dad's metabolism wasn't meant to handle any amount of alcohol but at least drinking made him something you'd be tempted to call 'friendly'. "You feeling okay, Dad?" "Son...I don't want you to ever worry about me. Save all worries for yourself...and...and your mother. Have a seat, Son." We plopped down on the porch steps as the sun sank almost out of sight. "I think this is all a bunch of horse shit, ya know? The government has been lying to us since Kennedy was shot. Ya know? Vietnam and all that shit. All bullshit." I hated being around him when he was drunk. Mom hated it too and I saw her slip back inside the house to go to bed. "You should go get some sleep, Pop." He just looked down at his hands and - God help me - I think he was crying. As if he had timed it perfectly, Robbie crossed the newly-lit street light right across from our house. Perfect. I needed to get away from this place in the worst way. He walked very slowly in case I didn't see him, but I know I would have sensed him as if I were a drug-sniffing dog and he was a bag of uncut heroin. I left my dad to his misery and hurried across the street. I didn't care who saw us together. I felt a kind of joy that had been totally alien to me until now. Relief, lust, affection, appreciation....maybe this is what it felt like to 'fall in love'. ? Looking back now, I can say that if it wasn't love, then it was something very close to it. Robbie hadn't come here solely for romance however. There'd been a party-ish sort of get-together of the Scuzzies in the works for tonight. I'd pretty much been Robbie's only connection to these lowliest of trashy social events, and I mostly just got him in and then rudely left him to his own weirdness after we'd arrived. Apparently, one of the army guys sold Kurt Stucky a keg of beer in some discrete encounter. 'It weren't no grunt, Either. t was an officer or somethin'', he claimed. Beer was beer. I was still wearing the same clothes I'd worn this morning, but Robbie looked freshly groomed and had changed his shirt. "Guess what? Donna is passed out on her bedroom floor and I just took her car keys. I parked down by the school in case you didn't remember what the car looked like." "How does she support the two of you?" "She has a long list of ex-husbands who either died or divorced her fat ass. Never got a baby from any of them and so she wanted to bring in foster kids. After me, she decided to never do that again." He laughed casually and I tried to do the same. It had always been difficult for me to imagine kids who'd been through some major life event. I couldn't even pretend to know what it was like to go through a divorce or to move four states away and start a knew school. I couldn't imagine my mom as a single woman because - to me - she was never meant to be anything but my mother and my dad's wife. She and I were alike in that we weren't particularly strong or adaptable. My dad was pretty strong, I guess, but he loved being in a rut and doing the same thing every day. We all did. "Did you ever know your real mom and dad?" "I remember my mom being some sort of hippie chick. It's all a little fuzzy. I almost remember the night she left and never came back." He sounded somewhat like the little boy all men secretly still are. Deep down inside, you can hear your child voice crying, laughing or just babbling away. "Jesus. That must have been so tough. I'm so sorry, Rob." People say that, but I really was sorry that any kid would have to go through that. Dad always said 'Some people just get dealt a bad hand' but that seemed so dismissive and had never really helped me process tragedy in a healthy way. "Why? I just roll with the punches, you know? And...", he grabbed my hand and pulled it up to the hard lump in his crotch, " it's how I ended up here with you now. That counts for something." "It's warm for late October. Maybe we've got an ozone hole above us or something." He laughed at my half-assed attempt to change the subject. I'm so lame sometimes. "It's good weather for drinking beer...and adventure! Rowwwrr!" I had no idea what he meant by all that. Was it a sex thing? "I come alive when the air is like this, Scotty." Okay. Whatever. I suppose it was a relief to have the crazy version of Robbie back again. It would give me some time to think about him and us and sex and HIV and whether or not I wanted to risk being gay full-time. My brain had a huge 'in' box and a sadly empty 'out' box. We came to his foster mom's car that was parked at the corner of Olive street. It was nicer than what you'd imagine a piece of white trash like Donna would own. I was kind of surprised that it had no drunken dents, rust or stupid right-wing bumper stickers. "That looks like it came directly from the showroom floor." "It pretty much did. Hey, do you know how to get there? To the thing tonight?" "Yeah. It's on that dirt road just West of the Entz farm. The one with the half-finished barn that's been that way for ten years." "I admire that that kind of structure." Of course he did; it was half out of the bag. "Are we going to be fashionably late?" "No. Probably a little early." "Even better." He put in a cassette tape and played music from some group called 'The Dead Milkmen'. I'd never heard of them and the songs were not all that good. Not at all. Then I felt a small stab of panic. "Try not to be extra weird tonight, Robbie. And please don't do anything that's..." "That's gay? Is that what you were going to request I not be?" Yeah. That sounded a little blunt, but anything to blow my/our secret would be a disaster. Right? "Don't worry, Scotty. I understand but I wish you didn't care." I nodded. There really is no such thing as free beer for people like he and I. 7. We arrived in less than two minutes and the Autumn sunset was starting its garish show of signature pinkish-orange colors. I almost wished Robbie and I could just go watch it alone somewhere. Beer didn't even sound good to me right then. We parked along an impoverished little road that was so underused that during warmer months, weeds grew down the middle of it. The nearest army blockade was over a mile away. The dry soil had been cleared of stalks and was just a bunch of dry clods now, ready to be planted with wheat. Or something wheat-like. My dad knew everything about crops and harvests and all that but I never paid much attention. All I knew about farming was that a whole bunch of dumb, sweaty young guys with bad teeth migrated through the area during the wheat harvesting season that lasted about three weeks during the Summer. Many of them were Mexican. They were exotic and erotic in equal measure to my eyes. I wondered if they fooled around with guys as well as girls. I know that Rhonda Breur got fucked by one of them in a weedy ditch last June and then went through her whole sophomore year with the nickname 'Ditch Witch'. We parked about fifty yards away from the small gathering alongside Mac's dad's farm truck. There were five people there already. The crowd would not be much bigger than fifteen people, max. I was glad to have Robbie with me on this short walk. It had always been easier for me to act and walk normal when I had somebody to talk to. Maybe I didn't make that point very well... I found myself too conscience of my mannerisms when I was walking solo. I remember the first day of high school when I was so concerned about not walking like a sissy that my knees and hips locked up and I couldn't move. I stood frozen, pretending to be looking for something in my pockets. If only I'd known about the miracle of Xanax back then. We ambled slowly toward the 'party', cool as fuck. Just two dudes. "Relax, Little Scotty. You need to have fun now -- before the zombie apocalypse really gets out of hand. In fact, let's stop over here for a second..." He gestured to the hedge row next to the road. "What? Why? Do.." I was afraid he wanted some sex or something.Oh God. Not here. Not now. This whole boyfriend thing was going to be way tougher than I'd ever imagined. All he wanted to do was light a joint and share a few hits with me before we reached the group. "Nah...thanks, man. I've never done real well with pot. I tend to freak out a little." I hated it when my head felt like the Bullwinkle balloon at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. "You won't freak out with me next to you, Scotty. It'll earn us bonus points among our fellow losers." He was right about that. As plentiful as the magic weed was around this area, it still held status - like a pair of Vanderbilt jeans or the latest Nike's. Maybe since it was now grown in zombie soil it would be affect me differently. "Okay. Two hits...maximum." Robbie smiled and lit the thing with a powder blue lighter. Most of those big farm trucks only had AM radios, but Mac's dad's truck had FM and a cassette player. You'd think most farmers would be poor, but a few of them were very well off. Unfortunately, the station this crowd preferred was T-95 - a station that catered to metal heads. Ugh. I didn't like it too much but had to admit that it really fit our scene. Scuzz Rock. I suppose The Go-Go's wouldn't have pleased anyone but me right then. After a few more inhales of the earthy smoke, I almost physically felt a change in the dynamic between he and I. He really was trying to make it seem like we were just buddies and nothing else. Oddly, pot was leveling him out. The relief combined with the excitement made me almost giddy. Maybe it was never too late to have a happy childhood. "Whoa! Scott! Puff and pass, man!", one of the dudes hollered at us as we approached. "Not mine to offer. This is Robbie's party favor." He nudged my elbow as his way of saying 'thanks'. I had suddenly decided to stick by Robbie and make him feel part of the group. All he had to do was not act annoying. "Cool." Robbie hefted himself easily onto the open bed of the truck and then helped me up. Mac and Kurt were there along with their scags plus some freckled, fat chick - who's name I could never remember. Tracy something. I think. I was glad to see them. Debbie Blakely rushed up to me with a plastic cup of warm keg beer in hand. She started growing her enormous boobs in sixth grade. "Did you guys hear?" "Hear what?" "Our last semester of school has been cancelled! We're all going to get our diplomas automatically! I'm so happy I could cream myself!" Gross. She currently had no boyfriend and was sizing up Robbie and I as possibilities for a drunken fuck later on. Doubtful at best. "This is a celebration, boys! It's warm because Kurt had to hide it in his stepdad's garage for four days." She led us to the keg and fumbled around for cups. Warm beer is still beer and it was surprisingly not bad at all. We moved among the crowd that was getting larger as the sun had set completely. Cigarettes were lit and there was a small argument about who was singing the terrible song blasting. "It's Great White, you dumb fuck." "Sounds like Poison to me." "Because you're a fucking retard..." This was as deep as these conversations tended to get. Robbie shared his fat joint with Tracy who would do anything for free weed - up to and including giving Mac a blow job in front of six other people one night last Summer. That was at least a year ago and I still haven't been able to wash it from my brain. "Did you all go to the meetin'?," she asked with her hefty lungs full of smoke, "I didn't." Others in the group chimed in with their thoughts about the latest news on our situation. "I just don't get why we have to evacuate the town so they can build some national park. We're like fifty miles from the Flint Hills - which are at least sorta pretty." "My dad says there's no way he's gonna give up the farm that's been in our family for over a hundred years. Crazy old fucker is gonna sit on the porch with his shot gun." "I'm gonna go live with my dad in Joplin until I turn 18 and then I take off on my damn own." "Didn't he molest you when you were ten?" "Just that one time." I could tell Robbie was itching to chime in and, weirdly, I didn't care if he did. I even ventured to wrap my arm around his waist. He didn't even tense up. I guess I was trying to communicate that I no longer cared what these people said or thought. I only cared about and supported him. "Well...you know this place will never be some park, right?" He'd put his long arm around my shoulder. Shit was about to hit the fan. "It's contaminated. We're ALL contaminated by toxic chemicals that will prevent us from ever dying." Silence except for the remaining crickets and frogs still holding out from Summer. "Did it also turn you guys into fags? You're, like, holding each other," Kurt said all this in a way that betrayed him. He was afraid. It was my turn to have fun. "Yep. The army won't tell anybody about that just yet. After the second or third zombie showed up, I started liking dick. I found out Robbie had suddenly felt the same thing. It'll happen to all of you eventually too." Robbie's fingers found my left nipple and gave it playful squeeze through my shirt. The crew's responses ranged from "Bullshit" to "Fine by me. It'll be a relief to never worry about getting pregnant." I basked in the disruption to their tiny worlds. Separate little discussions broke out among them and Robbie and I were mostly forgotten. We could make our way back and forth to the keg for cups of warm beer uninterrupted. As it fully became night, my man and I sat on the edge of the truck bed and watched the sweet October moon rise boastfully overhead. A need to party and be stupid returned to the group and a now somewhat tainted celebration returned. I felt a decent buzz coming on as we watched the girls dash across the road to the dry dirt field to pee. I can still clearly see the little orange tips of their cigarettes bobbing around like slutty fireflies. I remember thinking I'd use this scene in a novel one day. I'd always wanted to write a book but never would. I yawned. "Don't start getting sleepy on me now, Scotty. I'm planning a big event for us tonight." "What?" "Just trust me...I'll provide information on a need to know basis." And then we were holding hands again. We got in his car and started driving in a direction that didn't make sense at first, We were going nowhere, down tiny little roads I'd never knew existed. We turned off onto a drive that was only deep ruts made long ago by some heavy tractor in the mud. It seemed too random. even for Robbie's brand of crazy. "Umm...this isn't even a road, dude. We're in a field for fuck's sake! We're going to get stuck or a flat tire or something." 8. "You really have to trust me right now. Do you?" I guess I had to. "Yeah." "Good. Because I have to turn the lights off in a second." What?! Tall dried weeds scratched at the windows, making a small panic spread in my chest. Sure enough, he turned off the headlights and we were just following the grooves in the ground in the dark for what seemed like a really long time. Mercifully, he finally pulled the car up on some relatively flat land. "We're here!" I don't think he brought me all the way out here for sex. If he were anyone else, I'd be certain I was going to be murdered. Weren't dead bodies found in spots like this? Oh wait - there was no such thing as death now. I'd almost forgotten. "Why are we here, Robbie? What is this place? This isn't even anyplace." He wasn't listening to me now. He'd opened the trunk to gather something. He emerged in the yellow moonlight with a backpack strapped over one shoulder. "What the fuck, man?" "Camping supplies." Was he kidding? "We've got a long night ahead of us, Buddy Boy. I hope you're ready for some walking." "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on." "What happened to the trust? Come this way." He followed a barely visible path through the weeds. Shriveled sunflowers, black-eyed susans, and plain old, nameless species of prairie grass. I wish now that I had never agreed to whatever adventure he had in mind. My life (so to speak) would be changed forever that night. I mean, what the hell was I even thinking back then as I followed him on that makeshift trail? There was an abrupt decline in our footing as we suddenly emerged into a hard,dry creek bed. It hadn't rained since May and all the creeks and ponds had turned to dust. It was a regional emergency according to my dad whose job depended on the farmers having good crops. We watched the local evening and sighed as the forecast remained unchanged for months. There was something grimly thrilling about it. Robbie produced a heavy duty flashlight from his bag. "Walk." We were on our way. Oh I couldn't wait to hear the explanation for this. "I want you to appreciate how freaked out I'm feeling right now, Rob." "OK, OK. I guess you deserve a lot more information. I'm sorry for being so cryptic, but it's a long walk and there's plenty of time to tell you everything. First off - we're in Willow Creek and we're walking to a park on the Southern edge of Wichita. The army didn't bother checking this place out and the nearest blockade was back a mile ago. You gotta be a little more thorough if you're gonna declare Martial Law in the middle of nowhere." "Wichita?? That's like twelve miles!" "A little less. This is a shortcut. It'll go faster than you think. I promise." "We could be shot. And what's in this park we're risking our lives for?" He sighed as we walked on what looked like the surface of some parched planet. "It's a long story. Let me go back a little: I was never really too afraid of the zombies, just curious. I learned as much about them as I could - up close and in person. I discovered that they weren't technically dead at all. Their bodies are warm. That isn't logical at all. Blood is still flowing in those veins. It seems they still suffer from whatever killed them, but to a lesser degree somehow. They can make eye contact but can't seem to communicate even though it looks for all the world like they want to. I heard one of them distinctly say 'why?'. A lot of them are naked only because they walk by tree branches, rusted junk and other obstacles that eventually tear their clothes to pieces. Hell, some of them even have bloody scratches and cuts - I guess from barbed wire fences. They're living people in most ways -- except they appear to be in a trance. They're sleepwalking but you really can't call it that. Are you following all this so far, Scotty?" I hadn't taken a breath the whole time he was talking. "Yeah. But what about the park we're going to?" "Okay...I'll go back even farther now: Remember how I told you about being turned on by danger? It's something I've analyzed myself about. Possibly some trauma happened to me in one of the foster homes I was in. Some pervy shit went on during my childhood even though I don't remember much before I was 15 years old. I think I was just bored with the same sex with the same few guys in the Bollard cemetery. That's when I started sneaking Donna's car for drives to that park in Wichita that was famous for cruising. You know what that means, right? Cruising? It's basically just gay men seeking anonymous sex in public places -- mostly at night. I heard about this park somewhere or read about it. Here's where it get's interesting... the zombie plague has spread faster and further than anybody knows. It's in Wichita now! I had some wild times in that place whenever Donna let me use her car or when she was blacked-out. But after the military showed up and cut off our access, I found this dried up creek and walked there for my fix." Robbie was maybe way too advanced (in a messed-up way) for me. Everything was falling apart and my love fantasies were turning to vapor. "How did you find this shortcut?" I was biding my time before announcing that I was heading back home. "One of the medications they make me take for hyperactivity actually makes me more hyper. Can you believe it? I started wandering around late at night which is how I found that spot in the cemetery and how I found this route to Wichita. It takes a little over two hours. Anything else you need to know?" "Aren't you worried about AIDS? Wichita probably has cases of it by now." "Oh I KNOW it does. Let me continue: Some of the park dudes I had encounters with had the look of sickness you could see even at night. Some had visible blotches on their skin. One guy even admitted he had it before we fucked. But that's not all. The park is behind a hospital where a social worker I know works. She used to keep in contact with me during the worst of my foster teens. Laura is her name but she spells it some weird way. Anyway - she's the one who told me about how AIDS patients were dying and then disappearing from the morgue. Isn't that insane? I even had sex with one or two of them. Yep -- zombies can get boners. It was so crazy dangerous and I could never get enough. I figured there was never going to be a loving relationship in my future so why not just go all out? Ya know? And now that there's no thing as death anymore...well." Holy SHIT!! He most likely had the virus and was only telling me NOW?! After what we already did together?? I should have never let my guard down with him. Motherfucker. "What is wrong with you, Robbie?? I mean, beside the obvious. Did you not think of me and my well-being?? I can't believe I was falling in love with you! Dumb-ass! I'm walking back now." "No. I can't allow that, Scotty. I have a gun with me. Please hear me out first. If you still want to abandon me, like everyone else I've ever known, after I'm done talking, then you can go. You'll never see me again." "Start talking already." "Love doesn't just go away like that. I'll always love you and you'll always love me. Deep down inside, you already know that. I know it. I have a plan: HIV is scary and destructive, but the chemicals which have caused our dire situation in the region have given us all a second chance to be as decadent as we ever wanted to be. AIDS zombies look and act than the so-called living versions. We are "preserved" so to speak. It's not the end of the world - it's the beginning of eternal life. Do you want to spend the rest of forever alone and sad? We have love now...and a way to make it last forever. It sounds crazy but these are crazy times. I want us to be together forever." "Wow. I think you've lost your fuckin' mind, Robbie. Yeah, you might not ever die - but you'll be a zombie. You'll lose your soul and probably a large part of your brain activity. I mean..." We kept walking in the path made by the flashlight. I saw the little lumpy mounds that I only recently figured out were the things where crawdads lived. I tended to focus on small details when I was stressed. I remember acting up and talking while Miss Olsen was trying to teach us something about long division. She announced that I would miss recess that afternoon because I was headed for the principal's office for a paddling. I was terrified and embarrassed, but found that I could keep from crying by looking at a crack in the wall that looked like a lightning bolt. I forced myself to stare at it and wonder how flaws like that decided to shape themselves. "But listen to me, Scott. We're different. It won't be the same. Don't ask me how, but I know that we'll hold onto the essentials. Our love can't die. It just CAN'T." He was nuts, but I was walking ahead, still following the path he'd found for us. Looking back now, I guess I'd just figured my fate had already been sealed. It's a fool's folly to fight the inevitable. "Let's walk a little faster." "That's the spirit, Babe." He opened up his bag and produced a medium-sized bottle of gin. "This will make the trip go much quicker." Right as he said that, a streak of silent lightning crossed the Northern sky. Uh oh. 9. He handed me the opened bottle. "I think we're in for a thunderstorm, Robbie." "Nah. That's just heat lightning. You usually don't see it this time of year. We might possibly get a little shower because the upper atmosphere is unstable, but nothing severe. It might even be refreshing. How's the gin? It's top shelf shit." A low 'moo'... a cow or a steer or something was nearby. "We're in a pasture. I've never had gin before, but it's not so bad. It's made from olives, right?" His relief that I was still walking next to him was palpable. "No. Close. Juniper berries. I like it because it's a wine-like buzz from a hard liquor. It's a mellow kick in the gut." "We're not going to get attacked by some angry bull are we?" "No. I've never even seen a bull on this walk. There's a slaughter house not far from here and I think they're laying low, fearful of the smell of blood and agony in the air." "That must be the part of Wichita that smells like dog food." "OK. Up ahead of us is where a concrete tunnel is built under a gravel road. It's small, but nothing to be afraid of. It's just weird. Every creek you drive over has one of these - built by the county. Let's talk. Ask me anything. We'll trade questions and answers." "Hmmm. Were you ever molested as a kid? In one of those foster homes?" I think I knew the answer. "Whoa. You just jumped right into it, didn't you? The answer is 'probably'. I don't know when or by who, but I've been sexual for a long time... even before I grew pubes. One of the therapists I've seen is positive that I was messed with. Who knows? Why was that your first question, Scotty?" "Your sex life seems a weirdly intense...or intensely weird...or both. I've heard that many abused children grow up to be abusers themselves. I'm not insinuating that you've abused anyone except maybe yourself." "I get what you're saying. I've talked to so many case workers, therapists and other assorted professionals and they can only conclude that I'm just plain nuts." "OK. My nonprofessional opinion is that, while you are weird, you've got a good heart and are capable of greatness. But people can't see that because of your day-to-day behavior." "That's probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. My turn now. Why do you hate yourself? Wait -we're just around the bend from one of those tunnels I told you about. It's a big one too...right under I-35. Hear the cars?" I did. This was a heavily traveled highway that was popular with commuters and long haul truckers. When the bridge/tunnel was in sight, it looked dark, forbidden and not not least bit as magical as Robbie had insinuated. I stopped. My knees locked up and I felt frozen with fear. What if there were hobos sleeping in there? And they had knives? And what if... Just then there was a deafening noise that started with squeaking tires and ended with a huge BANG followed by a slow,hissing steam that I can still vividly hear to this day. A bad accident had happened almost right over our heads. "FUCK! That sounded pretty major." We stood still and watched the sky, waiting. "Yeah. It happens on this particular stretch of road often. I think most of those truckers are half-sleeping or on speed or riled up by libertarian talk shows on the radio. It could also be a drunk driver. Want to climb up there for a look?" "Oh hell no! What if there's blood or a severed head or something? I couldn't handle that." "Wow. For a strapping young man living in Zombie Town USA, you sure are timid." There was a smell of scorched engine fluids and diesel fuel . Just as I began to fear an explosion, the sound of multiple sirens could be heard in the distance. Not much they could probably do now. But I guess somebody had to do something. And then crazy red and blue lights were flashing and casting insane, dancing shadows across our faces and on the bone dry weeds around us. Doors slammed, urgent shouting ensued and police radios squawking was in the background. I felt the need to do something, but what help would two dumb 18 teenagers be to them? It feels so helpless to feel helpless. We silently agreed to return to the cracked path and continue our trek. "Is it just my imagination or are the batteries in your flashlight dying?" "Yeah. This thing eats D cells like a hungry sow. I've got more in the bag. I'll wait to put put new ones in as long as I can because it's a long journey and I want to get you back home before the sun comes up. Would your folks be upset if they found you gone in the morning?" "No. I don't think so. Everything's so crazy at home right now and they know I went to a party." The tunnel reminded me of a giant crypt. It was dark as death in there. There was an inch crust of silt under our feet. I'd assumed there would be graffiti spray-painted on the walls, but there were only some small snail shells stuck to the wall, glued by the hardened muck they'd excreted in rainier, happier times. I flicked one and it was as delicate and as a weightless seed pod. "Wow. This is eerie as hell, Robbie." "You think so? I like it....it's like our hick state's little version of the catacombs." Ugh. I'd hated the idea of those things since we first learned about them in school. Of course Robbie would dig it. Freak. "You didn't happen bring any Coke or bottles of water did you? I'm so thirsty." "Yeah. Let's stop for a bit to re-hydrate and rest a minute. Want a blanket to sit on?" "Nah. Mom taught me how to do my own laundry and wants me to practice before I leave for college. I guess that's all on hold now." We sat down and put our backs up against the concrete wall. He took a swig from the gin bottle and passed it to me. I didn't think liquor was all that hydrating, but took a few healthy sips anyway. I'd begun to like the taste of it. "So you're not going to college?" "No idea. I guess it depends on where we end up after the relocation. Maybe I'll use this creek again to just escape and find a new life somewhere else. Malaysia or anywhere far away. Would you come with me?" He scooted over and the whole right side of his body was against my left side. He put an arm around me and our heads touched. "Of course. I can access people and resources in several different cities -- none in Malaysia though. There's a pay phone right outside the park that I'll use to call this lawyer in Kansas City I know. He'll set us up and give us a place to stay as long as we want." "I've never been there. All I know about that place is just what I've seen on the news when they caught that gay serial killer. ..Bob Something." "Yeah.I saw that too. He was a fucking butcher, man. There are degrees of 'crazy', ya know? I like to think I'm on the sunnier side of mental illness." "A guy who has anonymous sex with zombies and HIV positive guys...yeah. You're a regular Daffy Duck." I was and wasn't kidding. He just laughed. This whole scene was surreal. 10. "This is sort of romantic, don't you think?" His voice had softened but still echoed in the concrete tunnel. It was also nice to be taking a break. We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes until we both became aware of how deeply our breathing had become. He put an arm around my shoulders leaned a little and touched his lips to my ear. You never know what weird, wonderful turns your life can take. I'd sometimes considered suicide in the my feverish teen years and it chilled me to think all I would have missed. They should tell that to all depressed youth. Put it on billboards or something. It's as good as that "It Gets Better" campaign that started back when I was already in my 30's. "Remember what we talked about this afternoon? In my room? Have you thought more about it?" After we'd had a long, sweaty sixty nine-ing session in his bed, we both just lied on top of his tangled sheets and discussed sex stuff. He brought up the subject of anal intercourse and told me about how good it could be. He answered most of the technical questions I could think of. I guess I liked the idea of it, but told him I needed time. "Yeah. At first I thought I'd really only ever like the oral stuff. I hadn't considered what you liked. It was selfish to not consider your preferences. I want to do it for you, for us." I hadn't meant right this minute but he started kissing me and fumbling for my zipper. I needed a minute or two to mentally prepare myself. "Wait. Wait. Let's have a drink first. Let me relax a little." He looked at me with a grin I could barely make out in the dimness. "Okay, you shy little thing. Just one." He fished the bottle back out of his book bag and handed it to me. He was still rummaging around as I helped myself to some generous sips of gin. I remembered the only black girl in our class telling me that gin kept guys from losing their erections. She turned bad around the same time I had and started joining us behind the vo-tech building to smoke cigarettes. 'It make a man hard', she said. I took as many long gulps as I could while he was busy fiddling around with the flashlight. He's somehow set it to shine a low amber light over the immediate area above our heads. Why a flashlight would ever have such an option I'd never know. He brought the bag over and fluffed it up against the wall. "Here. You can use this as a pillow." OK. I guess this happening. Now. Right now. "Here? In the dirt? Why don't we wait until we can do it in a bed?" "I can't wait that long, Scotty. What's wrong with a little dirt? You can wash your clothes and take a shower later. Look - I brought some lube that desensitizes your ass a little. I'm sorry your first time has to be with somebody so big, but I'm sill glad it's with me. Just lie back and try to relax. You only get one first time." He chuckled lightly. "Yeah...maybe you should take one more shot." We each had one even though the earlier sips had already given me that underwater feeling. I am editing this story now to insert the fact that neither of us ever uttered the word "condom". I had to be drunk because being naked in some filthy underpass didn't seem all that out of the ordinary. Normally my head would be full of panic and my heart would be racing. I just wanted this. Robbie climbed on top of me after applying that tingling cream to my completely exposed anus. I guess there was no real point in seduction or foreplay, considering where we were and how much we had already done with each other. To say it hurt as he worked the tip of his fat boner inside of my hole would be a vast understatement. I mean, DAMN! I thought there was no way guys did this for fun! I instinctively tried to squirm out from beneath him. But he had complete control now. His hand went over my mouth and he used his powerful torso and long legs to hold me in place like a butterfly pinned to cardboard. "Shhh, Baby...this is the painful part. It gets so much better in a few minutes." His gentle voice and his ungentle dominance had made me even more helpless. I endured the initial pain and, sure enough, it did start to feel good in a way nothing else had ever felt good to me before. I thought he was already all the way in but he kept going in deeper, filling me more and more. I reached around and let my fingers brush the skin on his bare ass which was pumping at a furious pace. He must have been so relieved that I was no longer hurting that he felt the go ahead to just really go at it with gusto and it was so glorious. I remember thinking 'Please don't let this ever end'. "SHIT! I...I came. I can usually last longer if I really try." He stayed on top of me as his softening dick slowly stopped pulsing. The thoughts of what he'd just planted inside of me skimmed harmlessly off the surface of my brain. It was kind of late to worry anyway. I must have came at some point because our stomachs were both slick with my semen. I guess it would have been nice to just lie in that position with him for the rest of the night but we both had a mission to complete. We silently got dressed and he set the flashlight back to its normal function. I took a few seconds to grieve the fact that the sex had ended and I was no longer some virgin kid. I had no idea how to be an actual 'man'. That was going to be another long journey that so many of us are still on. As we emerged from the tunnel on the other side of the interstate I meditated on the term "lived in". People used it to describe a house that's comfortable but messy and structurally messed up a little. It could also be used to describe what my ass felt like at that moment. I was happily wounded as I limped slightly. Robbie put the bottle back in his book bag and reached over to hold my hand which was just the most perfect gesture right then. 11. "You never got around to answering my question." "Huh?" "Why do you hate yourself?" "I don't. Why would you assume that?" "I've watched you for years, Scotty. You've got so much going for you. You're cute, kind and have a certain shine that can be seen by everyone around you. You're also obviously smart, but never speak in class. You're isolated and always keep your head down. I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen you smile and then you go and befriend only the lowest forms of life in Bollard." "Like you?" "I'm different. Mental illness pushed me to the fringes of society while you were born to be at the very top." "Hardly. I guess I have my own mental issues. Possibly the self-loathing started when I realized I was different than other boys. I knew I talked and acted wrong so I tried to change. I even prayed to Jesus that I could be normal. I stopped talking or socializing in case I forgot to not be myself. My parents pretty much ignored me once I was old enough for school. I was no longer their problem." "I get it. I'm fairly certain your story is not all that unique among gay kids. You aren't even the only closeted young man in our school." I almost wanted to ask who the others were but it wasn't my business...and I knew he'd tell me just that. Was he going to even comment about what we'd just done in the underpass? Did I want him to? "What are your mental issues, Rob?" "I might have time to tell you all of them if we were walking to Canada. Ba-dum-dump ssshhh. But seriously folks. I was diagnosed with ADD very early on and also depression. Over the years, various doctors have suggested everything from schizophrenia to autism. But you know what's funny?". I could hear some faint noises of the city. "Right here, being with you -- I feel totally normal. It's unsettling. How do people even go about doing that?" He gave my hand an extra squeeze. "My turn. Tell me something that gives you joy. No - tell me five things that give you joy." Before I could open my mouth, he chuckled. "Besides me, that is." "Fossils. Lilacs. Old library books. Um... Hawks. Meteor showers." "Lilacs?" "Yeah. When I was three or four years old, I wandered away from the backyard. I think I heard church bells. I eventually ended up on some street I didn't recognize and I was completely lost. I cried because I thought I'd be in trouble and get a spanking. I walked by this little house that was surrounded by six huge lilac bushes. I can still remember how good they smelled and how pretty the blossoms looked. Corny. I know. But I stopped crying and just walked up to the front door and knocked. Some old widow lived there and she'd been baking or something because there was a small blotch of flour on her cheek. She seemed happy to have a visitor and let me right in. I told her my name and said I wanted to go home. She knew where my parents lived and drove me back. So ever since then I've associated lilacs with kindness." "So cool. One day we'll live in a house surrounded by lilacs. One day we'll ... " He paused and let go of my hand. A zombie was right up ahead, walking our way. "Wow! This is my first time actually seeing one!" "Don't be afraid. Remember - they're harmless and they aren't actually dead. Shit. He must have fallen down here. He'll just keep walking until he gets all the way to Mound View." It's amazing how calm and safe I felt. I was mostly just curious. "He's not wearing a hospital gown...maybe he was somebody who just up and died somewhere near." "Look at the blood stain on the right side of his shirt. Gun shot. Come on...let's get a closer look." "No. Let's don't." "Come on, Scotty. They're lonely and seem to like having some company now and then." I guess he was my guide on this bizzarro tour, so I followed as he took me closer. The guy looked so alive in every way except for a certain dazed expression in his half-closed eyes. "He looks a lot like that substitute Spanish teacher we had a few times. Only much skinnier." "OK. Now look as I shine the light in his face. You can see that his pupils will adjust to the glare just like ours would." That's exactly what happened. And then Robbie handed me the flashlight. I aimed it away from his face because that seemed rude. "Hello. What is your name?" I was talking to an actual zombie (if that's even what they were). How many people could say they ever did that? The being opened his mouth. "Mmma...yes." Robbie took over. "You don't have to shout, Scott. They seem to hear just fine. Let me try. "What's your name, buddy? Mario? Miguel? Marco? Michael? Matthew?" "Mmaatto....o...Help me." Clear as a bell. I was stunned. I suddenly felt terrible about what was happening, what might happen. I was falling in love with Robbie but I knew he was going to do some weird thing with this person/zombie/being. "Let's just let him be and go." "Hold the flashlight again. I want to see his wound." Jesus Fucking Christ! I knew how things were going to go, but I didn't protest. Why oh why didn't I protest? I aimed the light on the poor guy's chest and held my breath while Robbie took off the shirt. The zombie deemed cooperative, even raising his arms to make it easier. Oh God. But the wound wasn't as gory as I expected - just a hole with one last little drizzle of blood dripping from it. "OK. Can we go now? This seems disrespectful." "Check it out. He's got tracks on his arm. Used needles for heroin or speed or something, that's for sure. I wonder if his dealer shot him." I hate to admit it, but I was fascinated. "Let's look for the exit wound." There wasn't one. But we did see were a few of those purple blotches that I'd already learned were an indication of AIDS. Robbie didn't say anything for a full minute which was a major feat for him. He just studied the lesions. Oh God. Was that what I had to look forward to in a few years? Months? Weeks? Only God knows what bizarre strain of the virus Robbie had passed along to me. "He doesn't seem dead at all." "Or high...or withdrawing from his addiction. I really think that this so called version of death is more of a rebirth now. It cures what ails ya'. But if you have any doubts at all, let me show you something. They're not dead at all." I knew this was coming. He was going to do something sexual with the poor guy. How did I get myself here? In this particular bizarre moment? I could be at home right now, re-reading an old Ray Bradbury book. 12. "I'm gonna need you to hold the light real steady and aim in where I tell you to. Will you do that for me?" "Yes, Rob." The first thing he did was brush his hand across our new friend's chest. If one can swallow a scream, that's what I tried to do. He then concentrated on 'Matto's right nipple. It instantly got hard and pointy. "Yeah. He likes that. He likes us. Let's welcome him back to his second life." Robbie went to work on the guy's zipper."Untie his shoes and help me get his jeans off." I knelt down and unlaced his beat-up Nike high tops. It looked like he wore size 10's - same as me. But I couldn't get them off his feet while he was standing. "Help me lay him down on his back. Gently." We eased him horizontal on the dry creek bed, and he seemed okay with that. "Get his shoes off." I did. And the stink of his socked feet was not the smell of death...it was a locker room odor that seemed very 'alive'. His feet were damp. How exactly were these guys even considered 'dead'? It's simple - they were alive. Of course I looked at his dick. It was a pretty decent size and a shade or two darker than the rest of his exposed flesh. It looked swollen with semi-excitement. Robbie stroked it gently and it got thicker and harder right before my disbelieving eyes. Swear to God - it was straight up pornographic but also fascinating (the way most good pornography is). I felt myself getting an erection in spite of everything. As my new boyfriend - the man who took my virginity - bent down and took Matto's dick in his mouth. He was making small groans of pleasure. I didn't want to watch but how could I not, ya know? The moans kept getting faster and louder until the crickets around us grew silent. Robbie lifted his head and looked at me. "You're turn." Was he kidding? I'd had so many firsts already in one day. "Come on, Scotty. He really loves it." "I don't know, Robbie." "Don't forget - I have a gun. Blow him..or else!" "Seriously? You'd kill me for not sucking off a zombie? Well, go ahead." The zombie seemed unhappy that the fellating had stopped. He whined the way a kid does when he's cranky. "OK. I'm not going to kill you any more than I already have, but I really need you to do this. Maybe it'll give you something to write a book about someday." I hadn't ever shared my desire to write a novel with him. Robbie just always knows things. He'd be that way the whole time I knew him. I decided to do it. A part of me wanted to do it anyway but a sense of humanity had made me have to hesitate. "I'll do it." Starting was the hardest part . The man's penis was twitching with a need to release. He even lifted a hand to the side of my face as if to urge me downward. And then...and then I took a zombie penis in my mouth. It felt every bit as warm as Robbie's dick had. Was that really only this morning? It seemed like years ago. The taste let me know he probably hadn't showered in a few days but that's not saying I didn't like it. Matto's hips were moving upward as if I wasn't taking him deeply enough. I'd eventually come to always love sucking an impatient man's dick. The sounds he made told me he was close to orgasm. "OK. Stop. He's gonna shoot." Wasn't that what he wanted?? "I want you to take off your pants and sit on his dick." "No. I just can't." "It's either that or you have to fuck his ass." "No." I figured he'd tell me about the gun again. Instead, Robbie punched me in the stomach. I fell to the ground, trying desperately to get air into my lungs. Then he fell on top of me and wrestled me flat on my stomach (another kinky fetish of mine was born). I was in pain and gasping for air as he laid me out flat on my stomach and undressed me from the waist down. "Keep your head down, Scotty! It'll be easier for you if you get on your knees and lift your ass in the air." I just couldn't. I was frozen like a jammed film reel and the projector bulb was burning me to a melted nothing. I'm not trying to sound dramatic but I think my brain, along with my motor skills, had gone bye-bye. "OK. Well, maybe it won't be so bad since I already opened you up a few minutes ago. Looks like you're still bleeding a little. Shit. Get ready." So I guess this wasn't love at all. I was just part of Robbie's twisted games. I was right and wrong about that, but I remember at the time, wishing he'd actually brought along this hypothetical gun he claimed he had and blow my head off. Nah -- I think my brain was pretty much gone no matter what happened next. I was waiting for a coma or shock or anything to get me out of here. I know I was jealous of those people who really did lose their minds. My brain had been my problem for 18 years -- maybe it was time to end my relationship with it once and for all. But insanity remained woefully out of my grasp. I was still fully aware that the guy I thought might love me was going to watch as a zombie with AIDS fucked me. How many people on Earth go through a whole lifetime without anything this messed up happening to them? "It's OK. Oh, look -- he's still nice and hard again. The second he saw your bare ass, our new friend got really fucking excited! Here you go, Matto...let me ease you on top of little Scotty here. His hole is extra sweet." And then, with a painful 'whump', the weight of this stranger was fully on top of me. He smelled strongly of sweat and, weirdly, the ocean. I never did figure out where that particular came from. He weighed less than Robbie did but the cracked earth beneath me was much harsher on my bones than the dust under the highway. What could I do? Complain?? The zombie dick entered me with no ease or thought of me. His narrow hips were on auto-pilot. Of course it hurt, but not as keenly as Rob's dick had. His breath was uniquely human -- unbrushed teeth and something charred. I can still smell it some thirty years later. Matto's thrusts were not artful at all. He was just stabbing away down there. I was going to leave this next part out of the story -- but, what the hell -- I was extremely aroused. I could feel a climax knocking at my dick's door. It felt GOOD! The unrealness, the inner throbbing and the zombie's rough little hands holding the sides of my face....I came two seconds before he did. Two men had ejaculated inside of me as of today. October 23, 1990. Which one did I regret more? Both? Neither? So there I was...face down in a dry creek bed somewhere in Sedgewick County with noxious sperm in my guts and a zombie softly sighing on my back. I'll never forget the way he was petting my hair, petting me like a dog. I never imagined how I'd ever make peace with this -- but I did, almost instantly. I'd enjoyed it despite myself. Maybe I'd already lost my mind and didn't know it. Whatever. I felt a kind of numb joy that didn't have a name. The sensation of Matto's softening dick leaving me was almost sad. He was probably really great in the sack back before his life started taking wrong turns. I recovered enough to talk. "Get him off of me. He's done." I wished my voice had sounded angrier -- but I had no fight left. Robbie helped him stand again and as I then pulled on my pants. When I turned around, Matto's dick was tucked safely back in his jeans but Robbie was now exposed. I'm guessing he'd jacked off while watching the scene. His dick was constantly ready to shoot the entire time I knew him. (if you ever find a man like that don't let him go) I think Matto wanted to follow us but Robbie turned him the other way and guided him back toward where we had come from. That didn't work so Robbie turned the flashlight off and we started jogging faster. My hand was in his and I was fine with that even though I know I should have been angry with him. The zombie was faster than you'd think. All you learned from movies and TV is so hilariously wrong. 12. "Are you mad at me, Scotty?" I thought about not saying anything, but I needed to talk. "Yes. I am. Don't ever hit me again. Don't ever force me to do something I'm not ready for." "I promise, cross my heart....I would add 'and hope to die', but there's no such thing as death for either of us. I'm so sorry for punching you. I just needed for you to experience that. I have reasons." What reasons? I supposed he'd tell me eventually and he did a few months later. "You owe me, Rob. Agreed?" "Absolutely, Scotty." We were getting closer to the city. I could see that sickish orange glow that all cities have now. "Well...I want to go home. I don't want to cruise the park. I need my home, my bed, my night light, a book and a long rest." "Oh. OK. Are you absolutely sure? It's fun." "You owe me, Rob." "Yes, yes. OK. Let's get you home.I'm sorry. I love you." "If you really mean that then this was the last time either one of us will have sex with other people. It's just you and I for as long as we're together." I could feel my spine getting straighter and sturdier with each word I spoke. "Seriously? I mean...seriously?" "Yes. Give me your keys. We can call it quits right now. You can go to the park and I'll drive myself home. I'm giving you your 'get out jail free' card right now, Robbie." "So you love me?" "Not right this minute maybe. But,yes. I am in love with you." How many of us can say that the first time we told a boyfriend that we loved them and really meant it? I did... or at least as much as any 18 year old could know what love was. I'm still not quite sure. "I don't think anyone has ever loved me before. I mean, maybe my birth mother did at one point, when I was a baby -- but I don't ever remember feeling loved." "So, do you love me?" "YES! Which is why I'm officially ending my play time...my experiments. From now on, you are my one and only. Monogamy is worth a try." He then took my hand and we walked back toward Bollard. Home. My head was quickly clearing up by that point. "Just tell me...what we did, what I did wasn't necrophilia, was it?" "You mean you still think of them as 'dead'?? They are living human beings who were dead for a few minutes, but not anymore. Death is just a stage for us now. An incredibly brief stage at that." "Fine. But I will always have a doubt somewhere in my brain." "That's your right. You will be the moral compass for both of us." "Deal. As long as you're always our designated fuck-up." 13. And we made it back to his car which looked beautifully ordinary after all the madness I'd experienced in the past few hours. I nearly cried. I asked him not to play that music on the drive home. I rolled down the window and listened to the engine and the wind. Robbie would be the first person in my life who always knew when I needed an extended period of not talking. I had talked enough for one day. We had a chaste little kiss when he dropped me off a few doors away from my house. The porch party had either ended or moved somewhere else. All the lights in the living room were on. A few of my dad's favorite vinyl records (mid-70's crap) were laying here and there without their sleeves. He must have been seriously out of it because that man treasured his album collection. I thought I could smell puke coming from somewhere but didn't feel like looking for it. Mom would be mad for at least a week about this. Not my problem. They're only offspring was gone until 3 in the morning and they hadn't even noticed. I loved the non-care once I became a teenager, but would be angry about it later in life. I've forgiven them at this point. They shouldn't have ever had children, but what's done is done. Let me say that again: WHAT'S DONE IS DONE. Never forget that. So what happened next? For a few months, it was as close to normal as it could have been. My mother really liked the army's make-shift grocery store that was set up just inside the quarantine. My dad seemed pretty happy about the big checks we were getting from the government. "Owning property in this shit town was the best investment I ever made," he'd said a few too many times. The trash was picked up. The heavily censored newspaper resumed publishing, but the grain elevators never reopened. Robbie's guardian stopped drinking only because she was diagnosed with heart failure and was so weak she couldn't even make fresh ice. Donna turned out to be a really nice person once she was sober. Robbie and I were the ones who made sure she took her multiple medications. The three of us would be together almost every day since I was practically living there by that time. She had a heart attack and was rushed to the army's new surgical unit. She died right there on the operating table. We'd never find out if she returned to life because the military took care of everything in a 'dignified and respectful manner'. She'd left the house and a huge chunk of money to Robbie. "She did this way back when she was all drunk and horrible!" he'd always say with amazement. I guess I wasn't the first person to love him after all. Late in the Winter of 1991, the relocation process began. I had to tell my parents that Robbie and I were lovers and would be moving away together. We were a couple just as they were. It's like I'd just told them I was reading a new library book. They just didn't care. There were too many other things to think about. The military individually debriefed us for about an hour over the course of three weeks. Even kids as young as four were told things like where we'd be moving to from a pre-approved list. I remember telling them that Robert Tyler and I were a long-term couple and would only agree to move away as a couple. The military guys didn't even blink at the gay thing nor did they deny our request. We picked a college town because we figured it would be more progressive and 'fun'. Families could move together, but not extended family members like grandparents or adult children. No unrelated residents could live within a hundred miles of each other because the government wanted to discourage 'fraternization'. I guess it's like back in the 1800's when you'd see friends and loved ones get in a covered wagon, head out West and that was it. You never saw them again. It was like a death in that way. We were told we'd be moving into new subsidized housing and then monitored very closely for the foreseeable future. Our phone calls, mail and travel would be closely watched. Our computer usage would be severely limited. At the time, I wondered why they'd be interested in a machine that you only used to write book reports and play games on. We all had to have a medical checkup every year from the physician of their choice. For how long? Indefinitely. And then we were forced to sign a promise that we'd never discuss the events of the last year. Penalties for not complying included fines, imprisonment or 'worse'. I just wanted to start a new life with Robbie somewhere far away from hay bales and tractors. The money they gave us in exchange was so worth keeping a secret for. Where did the government get all this money? There was a recession at the time. I signed the agreement. "Just think - someday you can visit this place when it'll be the biggest national park in the Midwest!" The grandpa-looking guy seemed to be very good at lying to people's faces. I almost smirked, but fought the urge. Robbie didn't. He was a regular asshole to the guy who debriefed him. He told me later that he asked about the zombies, JFK's real killer and Area 51. I wish I could have been there for that. We were among the last people to leave because he was detained for two weeks. I don't know what they did to him during that time and he'd never tell me. For years he just wouldn't speak of it, but it had incubated an anger in him that would last the whole time I knew him. I stopped asking. We had a happy couple of years once we moved to the new town. We spent our days leisurely and were never apart. Clinton was president and everything just seemed more hopeful. Can you believe how lucky we felt that he'd given us 'don't ask don't tell'? His sexual appetite was exhausting but I kept up with it because I didn't want him finding release elsewhere else. We each got involved with community and university groups. That's where it all went sideways. I was involved with astronomy, geology and wildlife causes but Robbie went his natural trouble-making route. He joined up with political groups and decided he was now a 'queer activist'. He went to every march, protest and rally he could. I tried to remind him we were still under surveillance at all times. If we wanted to keep this nice house and our peaceful lives, he needed to be cool, be discrete. "I can't believe how little you care about reclaiming our privacy and rights as citizens!" "I can't believe how little you care about ME! It sucks, baby. But I'd rather have you here with me than watch you get dragged away in some black van at midnight. This house is most likely bugged but we've sure given them a lot to listen to." (he was very into dirty talk during sex) That made him smile a little, but he never let go of the anger and that need for justice. He went to the campus library daily and researched Abbie Hoffman and Angela Davis which I knew would be tracked through the school's computers. He was so goddamn determined to change the world, to shake things up. I worried of course, but gave up trying to talk sense into him. It just made him mad and we'd argue. I hoped for the best and let him do his own thing. And then... And then he disappeared. It was a Friday night and we'd gone to see The B-52's in concert. They were one of the few bands we both liked. We were dancing and yelling and having a great time when I suddenly noticed he wasn't next to me. I thought we'd just lost each other in the crowd. But I never saw him again. He had the keys and so I got a ride from some severe goth chick with a lip piercing. I didn't say much as she talked non-stop about how she was trying to start a lesbian pro-vandalism art movement. Interesting. She was premed but had found it so easy and effortless that she had time to be creative and outrageous. Her name was 'Vee' and we're friends to this day. She became a pediatric surgeon - if you can believe that shit. I've almost wished I'd told her my story many times. She would have made something great out of it. I never even told her about Robbie because I knew he was gone...for good. I never really let myself grieve for many years. I kept my head down and adjusted to living alone with my secrets. I forgot to mention that it was soon after our first medical appointment with a doctor that we found out we had a virus. It was something they'd never seen before...similar to HIV but not quite. The doctor was a shill for the government of course. He didn't bother asking me about my sexual history (not that I would have told him). He only told me that there would be a treatment very soon. He told Robbie the same thing, the same rehearsed bullshit. If they'd never seen it before, how could there be a cure on the way? I had to stop drinking, smoking and any and all drug use. He wasted his breath. Vee and I would take long walks around the campus park while smoking blunt after blunt after blunt. She admitted that she had been seeing a shrink for ten years. She'd had shock treatment many times. I wondered if I should try that. Or a lobotomy. Take my earlier life away from my memory. But Vee patiently explained that 'E.C.T' wasn't like that at all. To this day Vee is a confirmed stoner but still the smartest, most coherent person I'd ever know. This past June, I developed heart problems. I had chest pains and shortness of breath. And a few weeks ago, I developed a scaly rash on my hands and feet. My appointed doctor told me that it was an anomaly and had nothing to do with the mystery virus I carried. He said I would live a long life. I doubt anything he says, but I guess I'll find out eventually. I know I can never die. END

A legitimately bad person wouldn't feel as conflicted as you do now. You have a conscience and a soul. You're young and not the person you will be in five, ten or even twenty years. I'm pushing 50 and still don't think of myself as a 'finished product'. I see good things in your character...and in your future.

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

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

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....

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION 1997 - Dallas, TX I grew up in a very weird neighborhood. Our block was an extremely average row of standard ranch houses. Go one block West and you'd see some beautiful mansions and one block to the East were Section 8 apartments. It irritated my dad to no end. He hated both the very rich and the very poor. He basically hated everyone. The rich were 'a bunch of tax-evading crooks' and the poor were all 'drug addicts who constantly produced mixed bastard babies'. Dad was a most unpleasant man. Obviously. He maybe even hated me, but never came right out and said it. 2008 I had basically flunked out of my first semester of college. I'd done well in high school but that was before I had unfiltered access to the internet and drugs. I liked weed, coke, booze and I liked porn...and pretty much nothing else. I loved speed as well - in all forms. I just stopped going to class or even caring about anything except getting high and beating off to videos of men fucking. It sounds pathetic as I write it now, but I was perfectly content at the time. So the deal was I could move back home for a year IF I cleaned up my act and got a job. Dad's rules. It was good timing because I wasn't yet at the point of having severely nasty reactions to coming down and my dick was rubbed raw from masturbating so much. I knew a guy at school who showed me how to navigate around internet filters, but I needed a porn break for now. I slept almost three whole days. The only thing that kept interrupting my sleep was the barking of the new dog my parents had adopted: Daisy. She was a black lab mix with a heart of gold. No way could I ever get mad at her. She was my example of joy...something to aim for. It was one of my assigned chores to walk her around the block several times a day. Daisy took her sweet time to urinate and/or poop. I didn't mind because the fresh air and the exercise were a sort of therapy for me. I could clean up and be something...definitely. But then.... I was walking the dog in the seedier part of our area when I saw some random guy standing almost in the middle of Olive Street. He was tall, skinny, covered with tats and handsome as fuck. He looked like Vanilla Ice after a bout with leukemia. He had on a baseball cap and seemed to waiting for somebody. I knew he was on something...it was an instinct I'd gained privilege to in the past few months. He didn't notice me at first which was good because it gave me a chance to look him over. Daisy gave us away by offering him a friendly bark. I knew her language of woofs - this was a 'hello, new person' noise and not a 'stay the fuck back' one. Still, the dude looked a little worried. "Yo! Keep him away from me!" He grabbed his back pocket like he was going to pull out a gun or something. "She's a she, and she's harmless. Her name is Daisy and I'm Mark." "OK. Cool. I don't like dogs, man. I'm Damien, D-Dog, or whatever else I tell you to call me." He was pure sleaze and gave off strong criminal vibes. My dad would call him 'trash' which made me want to know him even more than I already did. A car pulled up and he got in. "See you later, Mark." On the way back to Boringville, I chuckled to myself. Nobody was really named 'Damien' any more, right? Just like nobody was named 'Adolf'. Some names have been off-limits for decades. Some people had pretend lives and I understood them. Oh fuck -- Dad was home early. At least I wasn't taking a nap or watching TV. I unleashed Daisy and waited for his wrath. "Tomorrow. You're getting a damn haircut tomorrow." "OK." "And not at some fruity salon...you're going to John's barbershop on Walnut Street.. He'll expect you at 10 am." Fine. Whatever. I was slightly late for the appointment with John who'd been in this place since I was a kid. He looked like he was already mad and you were already giving him a headache. He could have been related to my dad. There was no TV here, just a stack of old macho magazines like 'Guns and Ammo' and 'Field and Stream'. Of course an A.M. radio station was playing, spouting wingnut opinions John already held. I wanted to request he change it to NPR just to see his head explode. You don't get shampooed in places like this. You just sit in one of the ancient vinyl chairs that are almost always patched with duct tape. "What are we doing today?" A crazy thought formed in my head. "Buzz it -- I'm gonna join the army next week." His mood brightened considerably. "Will do, young man." Looking back, I think I wanted to look more like Damien and also piss off my dad. He couldn't get mad at me because I was just doing what he requested. John brutally shaved my hair down to stubble. I'd pretend to be someone else for a while since my previous identity had been mostly dull. I could even pretend to agree with everything coming from the radio. I could become someone who hated Arabs and Jews and minorities and liberals. As soon as I started verbally agreeing with whatever the blowhard was spouting, John was ready to adopt me. Acting bears a remarkable resemblance to lying. I'd try this personality on for the time being. Of course my dad lost his shit. "What? Are you one of those skinheads now?" "No. He messed up a little and just kept cutting until it was evened out." Lying was getting easier and easier for me. I was 'M-Dawg' now. Fuck the world. I walked Daisy before bedtime and made sure to walk by the house Damien was in front of. No lights on of course. Guys like him would be out partying this time of night. But no. He was sitting in the dark on his unlit front porch. "Hail!" What was the response to this? M-Dawg would know. "Hail, Brother!" "Shit! You're Mike, right?" "Mark. I've lived a block West of here my whole life." "I'm new. I only know people from my old hood. Take that fuckin' dog home and then come back over." "Sounds good." Shit. My pretend self had opened a can of tattooed worms. Yes, Dad. I'm a skinhead now. I'm also a drug user and a fag and I can't wait for the day you drop dead of a heart attack. I let Daisy loose indoors and went upstairs to my room. I put on some old jeans from the hamper and dug through my closet until I found a 'Dead Kennedys' t-shirt I'd bought at Good Will. I have never heard their music, but I was going through an angry teen phase (that I guess I'm still not completely out of yet) and the shirt matched my mood. I never once wore it. Now seemed like the right occasion. Sure, it was a 'Small" when I bought it and I was rapidly becoming a "Medium"...but the tight fit made me look bulkier. It was practically sleeveless at this point. I was still skinny, but not as rail-thin as Damien. I had committed to no tattoos as of yet, but that couldn't be helped now. The night was warm, mosquito-filled and windless. Texas. I was back on the heat-soaked sidewalk in front of HIS house within 45 seconds. "Shit, yo! That was fast. You lookin' to party?" "Yeah. And get to know my neighbors." "Come sit here with me and we'll watch the end times coming." Huh? I guess I pretty much knew the end of times were arriving because the Middle East was so prepared to split the planet in half. Wouldn't that be a good way to go? You just fly into space and be be free of abusive dads, bullies and expectations. I was down with that. Damien had one of those indoor couches that had become outdoor porch fixtures around here (a Southern, White Trash thing), I just huffed and plopped down next to him. It was humid and the night was alive with the sounds of bats. They gobbling up mosquitoes and squeaking with joy. "I figured you'd be out partying tonight." "You thought that? You thought about me? That's interesting. Want a smoke?" He meant a cigarette, but I guess I'd hoped he had a rolled fatty to share. Nope...just a regular cig that at least wasn't menthol. "So you're just hanging out tonight?" "I kind of have to. I'm recently out on parole. It's so much bullshit. I have to be here to answer the phone...my HOME phone. I ain't allowed a cell phone." "That sucks." "You got internet?" "Yeah. Why?" "You ever look at that website that shows you where all the local sex offenders live?" "Nah. My dad used to check it regularly until he just got too outraged. Mom made him stop after so many red circles showed up that he nearly had a stroke. Why? Are we sitting in a red circle right now?" "Yup. I almost thought that was why you came sniffing around. Some people are into that." "What did you do, Damien?" "Bunch of shit. It's too long to get into now. I did my time and paid my dues but I'm branded for life." "Wow." "Yeah...'wow', Want to come inside?" I sure did. He was pure danger and pure sex. He embodied something I didn't quite have a name for. "Sure." Once inside the door, I saw shit I could barely believe. I'm not entirely sure how much I can say in this forum, but suffice it to say that this guy was into the devil...bug time. He was into all that 'white power' shit too. Hitler and stuff. This wasn't cool, and not any kind of alternative personality I could make for myself would ever be down with this. I regretted my haircut so much right now. He was hot in his own way, but this was too twisted and just plain wrong. "Want a beer?" "Uh - yeah. OK." He brought us both cans of Busch Light. "I still don't have cable, but I got the VCR hooked up." "Whatever you want, dude." We'd watch a movie or something and I'd get the hell out of here....and never walk down this street again. "See -- until I got sidetracked, I was going to be a famous filmmaker. I made some shit and put it on the internet. Want to watch a sample?" "Absolutely." I wanted to escape, but I needed to rest a little first. I couldn't wait to be home, in bed with a book. It smelled like piss in here. I wouldn't have been surprised to see an open bucket of urine in the corner somewhere. He'd taken off his shirt, letting me see all his ink. Pentagrams and other weird symbols. Some words too. My eyes weren't focusing all that well right now. I guess I was just tired. "It's a little rough and I didn't edit it very well. This is just raw material." He had the volume turned up pretty high and my ears were assaulted with violent metal/rap/rage music. There's a lot of what I saw I can't describe here and also a lot I've blocked out and/or can't remember. Damien handed me another cigarette and I gladly smoked it, hoping I could wake up a little. I closed my eyes to block out the imagery. One scene was of him fucking some passed-out guy. He grinned at the camera. Needles shooting into veins, guns firing, bloody wounds, and that awful goddamn music. Finally -- it ended. I wanted to soak my eyeballs in Clorox. "Damn. That was intense." "Did it turn you on?" "Um... I ...." "Feeling sleepy? I got something to wake you up. Stay here." I put out the cigarette in my empty beer can. His indoor couch wasn't much nicer than his porch couch, but it was so comfortable right now. I should have known he'd come back with a syringe. Fuck. I'd never shot up before...or had I? "A vitamin." "Like B 12 or something?" "Vitamin K." I'd heard of that. Pegople took that to stop having nosebleeds or something. "Yeah. Great. I don't do needles, man. Plus -- I think I'm allergic to that vitamin." "Doubt it. You had two cigs soaked in it...and I put a little in your beer." "Huh?" I wanted to sleep now. He'd drugged me. "Here. I'll just give you a little." Without me even trying to stop him, he thumped the inside of my elbow and stuck the needle in. It's weird that I didn't feel it because I always flinched when I got a yearly flu shot. "I'll finish up the rest of this." My arm was bleeding and there was a drop of blood on the tip of the syringe. "I don't feel good." "I can help you with that." He kicked of his shoes and took off his jeans. No socks, no underwear. "Shit -- feels good to air everything out." He was working on an erection that seemed close to nine inches long and very thick at the base. No way. I'd thought he was sexy before, but now I was just scared of him. How did I end up here? Where did I live? "I think I need to lie down." "Go ahead. It's night-night for you now. I'm gonna fuck your ass, though." "No! I...can't. NO!" "You think the drugs are free? You got high on my dime, and that gives me access to all your holes. I'm just going to get your clothes off and let the K do its thing." I was naked and lying face down on this filthy couch. He was positioning me like a rag doll until I was bent over with my bare ass in the air. I made an attempt to say 'no' again, but just couldn't get my mouth to work. "This ain't rape, man. I'm NOT a rapist. You came here of your own free will." Maybe so. I liked danger, but this was beyond that. He stuck his big dick unto my ass hole and I honest-to-god didn't feel any pain. I'd later learn that I'd been drugged with Ketamine -- which is normally used as a tranquilizer for large animals. I suppose I could have felt a small amount of relief that my first time getting fucked didn't hurt. Damien just pumped away like a bull in heat as I took it all. Did he have STD's? Probably. AIDS? I wished so badly that I was truly passed out, but awareness remained. I wanted to remember this. My first time. I'd write about in one day. His breathing got heavier and his hips were thrusting faster. He was going to cum inside of me. Why wasn't I asleep yet?? A criminal was fucking me full of who-knows-what and I was lucid enough to realize it. I'd just pretend to be asleep. Yeah. I was good at pretending. "Hail! The seed of The Damned is in you now!!!" He was sweating all over me. It's funny how I didn't feel his cock enter me, but I felt it leave me. No worries. I was asleep. I heard him leave the room and go take a piss as my pretend sleep turned into actual sleep. Long, deep, dreamless sleep. I'll leave it to you to imagine the ending. Imagination is a wonderful thing.

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

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.