Toon

I really didn't plan for this to be a continuing story. I tend to end the tale once the gift-giver and bug-chaser complete their task. But that's not a hard and fast rule. I think I need to probably continue Kevin And Dennis's adventures.

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION 1985 Xana, Kansas Worst year of my life. But then again, I've been saying that just about every year since I started high school. It really went to hell at that point people started to notice I was 'different'. Up until that point, I had a regular life. Almost regular. My two best friends were my sister Janice (a year younger than me) and the most popular boy in the world. He was everything I wasn't: athletic, good-looking, and fearless. Kevin and I started as friends because we lived on the same block and our moms would get together daily to watch soap operas and drink highballs. But then...but then puberty hit us all like a tsunami. Everybody was changing except for me. The girls got periods and boobs while the boys turned into actual men. The only different thing about me was my new love for music and acting. It was a discovery made when our music class would put on theatrical shows twice a year. At the end of the first semester we always did "A Christmas Carol" and something random in the Spring. I never got a leading part, but I didn't even care. Toward the end of my Sophomore year, I got the role of Linus in "You're a Good Man Charlie Brown". I was so excited because there was a solo part of me dancing and singing to my blanket. According to Janice, the whole school and even some of the adults were talking about my performance, and obviously gay I was. Apparently I was a little too into it and had practically glided on air. She claimed an older couple behind her were debating whether I was a boy or a girl. The news came as a heavy blow and it ruined my life. I was a "faggot'...and everybody knew it. Even Kevin turned on me. High school was going great for him and he couldn't risk hanging out with me. He couldn't even risk NOT bullying me out in the open. He would push me against lockers, spit on me and call me every possible homosexual slang term there was. And just to make everything worse, Kevin and my sister were dating. I felt like I'd lost everything and everybody. I held everything together waiting for this day...graduation. I wanted to get far away as if enough distance would erase the first 18 years of memories and pain. I'd skip college because that seemed like a continuation of high school and I'd already done my time. I had three possible plans in mind with what to do with the college funds set aside for me: 1. Move to Australia, work some menial job there and never come back. 2. Move to L.A. and try to get an acting job. 3. Take a trip to Hawaii and jump into an active volcano. What I ended up doing was just staying home and retreating into books, TV and booze. My parents were both functional alcoholics and not the violent, mean kind -- they were happy and clueless kind. They must have assumed I was just taking some time off to figure out a plan. My plan was to raid their liquor cabinet as often as I could. My sister did the same, but she was never at home. She'd broken up with Kevin for reasons she wouldn't go into. I'd already assumed she lost her virginity since Janice had been boy crazy since first grade. I was predicted she'd be knocked up and/or married before her senior year. We were both pretty much unsupervised, but she was the only one taking full advantage. I was just a boring, garden-variety delinquent. One July morning I got out of bed just in time to see Mom walk out the door with her big purse. This meant she was going over to hang out with Kevin's mom and get good and plastered. She'd left a note for me. Dennis -- If you can, please water the flower beds and also give the grass a good soaking. I love you! The fact that we had one of the nicest yards in town was a great disguise for the secrets inside. People talk in a small town no matter how green your lawn was. Our family unit consisted of two drunk adults, a teen slut and a fag. Whatever. I mixed a generous rum and coke in a plastic quart cup from the convenience store and went out to attend to the greenery. It was hot as hell and also very dry. There was a region-wide burning ban in place for the fifth week. I was almost finished with everything when I felt a tap on me shoulder. It was Kevin. "Hey man. There's two partying old chicks at my house so I thought I'd come over and say hi." Hi indeed. He was pretty obviously stoned...and looking really good. I'd made a point of never looking at him these past few years. He had filled out completely and still had the same dirty blondish hair I remembered. He was a few inches taller than me and solid as steel. He was wearing flip-flops, swim trunks and an ancient Foreigner concert t-shirt. Only a year ago I would have been thrilled to have him talk to me again, but now I had my guard up. "Why are you here? Won't you get point deductions for even being near me?" "I'm sorry. No. I really am. None of that shit matters now, OK? I should have never treated that way." "No you shouldn't have. But again, why are you here?" "Hey - can I have a sip of what you're having?" I hated myself for forgiving him so easily, but maybe I'd find out why he and my sister broke up. "Come on in. I'll make you one and we can play Atari or something." "Cool." We went into my dark living room and helped ourselves to the abundant booze. I was still suspicious, but this felt like old times. Kevin and I, squandering a precious Summer day. Only with cocktails. We sat like yogis in front of the TV and played "Burger Time". It was the only game I'd never beaten, but I was still beating Kevin's scores. After we'd had our fill of the crappy graphics and annoying music, Kevin suggested we go out in the back yard for a smoke. As nice our front yard looked was how crummy the back was. "I see your dad still has a hammock up. Remember how we took turns getting all wound up in in it and pretending we were one of Spider-Man's enemies caught in his web?" Of course I remembered that. Kevin produced a joint from somewhere and lit it. I guessed it might have been his third one of the day. Kansas deserves all the negative impressions people have of it, but the homegrown weed is hardy plentiful here. Janice and I gotten stoned together before we'd ever had a taste of booze. "So what happened between you and my sister?" "She didn't wait for me when I went to go visit my uncle in L.A. for three weeks. It wouldn't have lasted anyway, Dennis. She is a wild child. Did you know she had an abortion last Monday?" "No way!" "Yup. In Wichita. I had to pay for half even though I doubt the baby was mine. We should go to the pool." I wasn't in shock, just sad that she didn't tell me. Oh well. Janice and I were basically just strangers now. "Los Angeles, huh? I wanted to move there after graduation - to be an actor. Lost my courage." "You'd be a great actor, but it's a dangerous place. Trust me. I'm going to go there again and live with my uncle. Maybe I'll be a bartender or something. Maybe you can come live with us. Yeah -- that would be cool. My uncle would love you!" "I don't ever remember you talking about an Uncle in California..." "Well -- he's not my real uncle, but I'll explain more later. My parents are going to Chicago for the weekend....you can come spend it with me and I'll fill you in on everything. Can you?" "Yeah. Sure. My parents are going to the Ozarks this weekend. I guess you don't want me to bring Janice." "Oh -- maybe it's the Ozarks I was thinking of. You never know what they're up to." What? He was full of information about something. But what? I could have asked more questions but I had a real nice buzz going. For whatever reason I stood up, climbed into the hammock and spun myself into a cocoon, "Curse you, Spider-Man!!!" By Friday, I'd tried to put all the pieces together but there were too many missing. Were my parents going away for the weekend with Kevin's parents? Why did he have a fake uncle? Why was I so quick to forgive the guy who'd made my life hell for three years? And what was the deal with Janice? She and I used each other as a sounding board years ago. She probably needed one more than ever now. Oh well...it's not like she didn't know where to find me. My mom and dad were packed and ready to go by 4:30 that afternoon. It was an almost seven hour drive to the Ozarks. They would have left earlier but cocktail hour lasted longer than they'd planned. Mom had changed her hair and put on maybe a tad too much makeup. "So you're spending the night at Kevin's house? Good. You two used to be so close. He's a little cocky, but mostly a decent kid." They left the house in a flurry of cologne and alcohol fumes. Janice wasn't home. I helped myself to a drink while wondering what the hell I was supposed to bring over to Kevin's house. When I was a kid I always took my sleeping bag and pajamas, but that was a million years ago. Oh well -- I could always come back and get what I needed. I didn't want to walk half a block with an overnight bag in broad daylight anyway. "Hey! Come on in. Mom and Dad just left." "So did mine." "What a coincidence," he laughed. "So what do you know that I don't?" "Only thousands of things. Come on....we've got all weekend to talk." He led me to the basement for some reason. It was like all the other basements around here; bare concrete floors, mouse droppings and a ping-pong table that usually had boxes of Christmas decorations on top of it. It had changed. Big time. It was a large, furnished, plush area with carpeting and a bar. "Wow! When did all this get done?" "A few years ago. It's a 'play space'." What? It looked a little too fancy and grown up to be somewhere where you'd gather to play board games or charades. "And check this out..." Kevin walked over behind the bar a flipped on some dim colorful lights on the walls and ceiling. It was cool but still confusing. I sat on one of the giant leather couches and waited for the next magic trick. "I have some questions, Kevin." "I know. I'll tell you everything you want to know. In case you don't want to know any more as I'm talking, just say the word and we'll go upstairs and wait for 'Nightmare Theater'. Can you believe it's still on? Same old guy too." Talk." He was barefoot, wearing the same swim trunks and a Spider-Man t-shirt that he'd probably had since junior high. It was faded and way too small for the broad chest and shoulders he'd developed. "OK. I'll start out small and go from there. Remember, as soon as you feel uneasy -- we stop." "OK" "First of all, your sister is sleeping with Coach Glover, from school. They've been together for a few weeks now." "No way! He's old and married and has kids!" "Well, Janice has already dated every other guy in town. It's coach's turn now." I hated that guy. How could he fool around with young girls when he had a handicapped kid at home? When exactly did I lose her? "So are my parents and your parents going to the same place?" "Yup, but let's back up a little...does this room remind you of anything?" I looked around with new eyes. It was suddenly so obviously meant for sex and seduction. Why else was Kevin so cryptic? "It's a sex room, right?" "Very good! You've earned a drink. Come over to the bar and I'll serve you." It was so fancy. I took a seat on one of the stools and noticed the blue and red neon lights above the liquor bottles. Pretty. Kevin handed me some type of fizzy clear drink in a tall glass. "So your mom and dad remodeled all of this just for a place to have sex?" "Sex parties. They're swingers. You know what that means, right?" I did. I learned about them on HBO. "And guess what else? So are your mom and dad." Fucking hell! I could never look them in the eye again. "No. I mean...how do you know?" "Ready to go upstairs now, or do you really want to know?" The world had tilted so severely on its axis, that I was ready to hear everything. "Go on." "Well these people have parties all over the country. They all get in a room and it becomes a big orgy. And it gets very weird after they've smoked enough weed and snorted enough cocaine. Want to try some? Anyway, my 'uncle' Ray got super out of it and wandered up to my room where he fucked me in the ass." "No! How old were you? Did you tell anyone?" "I was legal...I was born three months before you. It hurt like hell, but just enduring it got me invited downstairs to join in. I fucked Miss Stucky from the library. Mrs. Strotkamp sucked my dick. I don't know if any of our parents noticed because they were either wrecked or ... busy." I gulped my drink all the way down. I knew too much and wanted to go home or go to Australia or kill myself. "Did you?...." "NO. I never did anything with your mom or your dad." "So your fake uncle molested you and you still went out to L.A. to visit him?!" "Don't say 'molested'. I could have kicked his ass if I wanted to. It hurt and all, but it wasn't that bad in the end. My California trip out there was a sex vacation. He hosted great swinger parties all the time. I had sex with so many woman and men." "But...but what about AIDS? Aren't you afraid of that?" He'd mixed me another drink. "Nope. By the time it gets here, everyone will have it. I already tested positive for the HIV. You can get it from kissing. These are The End Times, Dennis. Enjoy life while you still have it." This was too much -- way too much. I remember the days when I'd spend the night and we'd stay up and play poker while watching old scary movies. "So you've..uh..done stuff with gay guys?" "Oh yeah. It's no big deal. Sex is sex. You'll find out some day." I remembered all the times I heard him call me 'fag' and 'homo'. All I did was dance and sing to a blanket on stage, while he was essentially the same as me - actively. "It's not so bad sucking a dick when you focus on how it feels to get yours sucked. It's probably my favorite thing in the world to shoot a wad in somebody's mouth." He was looking at me carefully and I noticed how his face had changed. He was still genetically cursed with dark circles under his ice-blue eyes. The neon lights did him no favors. I finished off the second drink. "Is that all?" "Just one more thing. I talked to Uncle Ray last night and told him about you wanting to come to L.A. to be an actor. He's got a huge house near the beach and wants us BOTH to come and live with him. Wouldn't that be cool? Us in L.A.? It's a whole new world there." "I...So I...never mind." I wish I could be 12 years old again, sitting on Janice's bedroom floor and spilling out all the things I was thinking, feeling. We used to do that all the time. "That's all. Are you okay?" "Yeah. I...got any weed?" "Of course. You haven't heard the sound system yet. I picked up some great music in L.A. Bootlegs and stuff you'd never hear in Kansas." He magically produced a fat joint from somewhere and held it between his lips as he fiddled with some stereo stuff. "You should hear the thumpa thumpa stuff they usually listen to down here. Here's a mix tape i made from my collection. I like punk that's not the angry stuff. It has a melody, but not like what you're used to. Give it a chance." I was sitting on the floor, wishing we could just play poker or war or something. The speakers were hidden and I could swear there must have been dozens of them. The sound was rich and filled the room like a heavy fog. Any kind of music would have been a pleasure to listen to. "What group is this?" "'Heavy Disharmony'. The drummer gave me a blow job once, but that's not why I like it. This is just the sound I dig now. Like it?" I did. It sounded so different and so exciting...and kind of sexy somehow. Kevin came over and sat on the floor with me. "You always liked being on the floor -- I remember now." We shared the joint and listened without talking. It was good because I didn't want to hear anything besides this. "OK. This next song is a dud -- want another drink? I've got dry mouth something terrible." The song was in fact not very good, but the sound still shined. "My uncle says I could make a lot money if I started stripping in clubs out there. You think I could be good at that?" "Probably. You've got a good body. Like in a gay bar or something?" "Mostly. Those guys tip like crazy if you show a little ball sack...and even more if you fuck them." "Wow. The last time I danced in front of people, my life was destroyed." "You're taller and bigger now. You maybe need to work out a little. It can only help you get acting jobs if you're buff. I'll show you. Not to this song. The next one." "The songs are so long." "Because this was all recorded live. It's not three minute Madonna song, Dennis." Kevin stubbed out the roach and stood up. "This next song is one you're going to remember forever." I think he was building it up too much. But okay. The opening of the song was mostly drums and the bassist playing a ditty that I almost recognized somehow. Shit! What was this? Kevin stood a few feet away from me and started grinding his hips. He said I'd remember this song forever, and he was exactly right about that. He slowly peeled off his t-shirt and didn't miss a beat. He was only wearing those trunks and had obviously worked himself into a hard-on. Was he teaching me or trying to seduce me? I didn't care. Then the singer finally started in.... Spider-Man, Spider-Man/Does whatever a spider can/Spins a web, any size..." It was a punk/pop version of the old cartoon theme song. He smiled at me in the most delicious way. He was grinding away, humping the air. My face must have given something away because he started to tease down his swim trunks. There were his minimal pubes -- I wanted to smell them, inhale his funk. The dance was deliberately effective and I knew he's make a ton of money on the coast. It's about then that I realized I was still on my knees but standing up to his crotch level. My position was was just as suggestive as his dancing was. He stepped out of his swim shorts like a seasoned professional. ...To him, life's a great big bang up/Wherever there's a hang up/You'll find The Spider-Man Kevin's cock looked better, thicker than I would have guessed. Impossibly hard and sticking straight out. There's no way I could ever be as confident as he was. He said something, but I couldn't hear it above the music. He danced closer until his dick was just inches from my face. The momentum of all this had reached warp speed. The head of his dick poked me in the cheek, and then my right eye. I wanted him to stop dancing and just let me suck him off. Viruses be damned. I wanted this. As soon as the slick head of his penis went past my lips, he stopped the strip tease at last. I just swallowed as much of him as I could. There was a taste and a smell of a sour dishrag briefly -- probably from those damn swim trunks he wore constantly. He grabbed the back of my head and just thrust his strong hips back and forth like a machine. Is he strong? Listen,Bud/He's got radioactive blood I wondered if he was going to cum in my mouth and I wondered if he knew how much I wanted him to. But no. He stepped back as a line of drool strung out of my mouth and caught a random purple light from overhead somewhere. It glowed. He pulled a mat from underneath one of the plush couches and pushed me down on it. Wait -- didn't I get a say in any of this? It was an almost too familiar feeling of being abused in high school. I guess I'd given my consent by not even trying to fight back. I was on my stomach with Kevin's full weight on top of me. He put his mouth close to my ear "This won't feel good the first time, but I'll make it quick. Hang in there, buddy. He just jabbed his hard dick into my asshole before I even knew what was happening. gear GOD! PAIN! Maybe being everyone's punching bag for years had toughened me up because I didn't yell or cry. Those instinctive responses had been suppressed in me for too long. He pumped away faster and faster. This was gay sex. In a sex basement. It hadn't even ended and I was ready to do it again. He stopped, bent down to me ear again "I just blew my nut. How do you feel?" The music had stopped. "Uh...bathroom?" "It's to the right of the bar. There's a shower in there now. Just do what you need to do, take your time." I used the facility without looking at myself in the mirror. That would need to wait a day or two. There was mouthwash there - which I used while wishing there was such a thing as 'asswash'. When I came out, Kevin was back behind the bar and mixing us more fizzy drinks. "Everything OK?" "I'm fine. What time is it?" "A little after 10. Have a seat...want some peanuts or chips or something?" "Maybe later. So I guess I'm not a virgin anymore." What a retarded thing to say. I needed that drink. "No, but it was about time, don't you think? The good news is that you hardly bled at all. And I didn't even use lube. I bled like crazy the first time Ray fucked me. You were turned on and having fun -- that makes all the difference." "Yeah. Just think -- we could have done that years ago. But I guess you were too busy doing my sister. So I'm going to get AIDS now?" "No. You don't get it from just one fuck. You might possibly have the virus now, but it could be ten years or more before you get the disease. That reminds me...." He went and retrieved a cordless phone. Who the hell was he calling? Oh. Never mind. I should have guessed. "Hi! Did I wake you up from a nap or are you just out of it? Oh. Yeah -- he's here. Ask him yourself, dude. No. No. Oh just let him tell you. Uh...OK. I promise. I don't know, man. Ask him." I knew he was going to hand me the phone. He did. "Hello?" "Dennis! Having fun? Kev showed me your senior picture and you're a handsome young lad. Did you skip a few grades? You look like a kid." "No. Just a late bloomer I guess." "Well I can't wait for you guys to get out here so you can enjoy some sunshine. I'll hook you up with Hollywood people too." "Yeah. Uh huh." My butt hole hurt like a stomachache. Pause. "I'll let you boys get back to your Friday night. Good talking to you, Dennis." "Thanks. You too. Here's Kevin." I handed over the phone. "Yeah. Well -- he's a little shy. No. I know. Let me handle it, OK? Yeah. Bye." "So...that was Uncle Ray, huh?" "The one and only. Neither of you make good first impressions - no offence. He's super excited to meet you though." He handed me a fresh drink and then came out to sit next to me at the bar. "He knew that tonight was the night I was going to break you in. I told him it went just fine." "Break me in?" "I couldn't bring a virgin out to L.A. You understand. He wants me to get you used to the idea of sex for fun. Want to fuck again in the morning?" "Maybe. I need to think about stuff...talk about it." "Thinking is fine, but overthinking is a waste of time. Can you suck me again?" "Not now." I kind of wanted to taste his sperm in my mouth. There was no going back from here. In the chill of the night/At the scene of a crime/Like a streak of light/He arrives just in time

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION 1995 I was in the middle of my sophomore year of college when I suddenly realized that all of my closest friends were from single-parent families or 'broken homes'. All of my crew had seen some trouble in their childhood. Alcoholism, divorce, suicide, periods of homelessness, etc. I knew nothing of those things in my own history. My parents were boring, white, middle-class and stable. I began to wonder why I had chosen these friends and/or why they'd chosen me. Years later I asked a therapist about this and her response was fairly sensible. "Maybe they're drawn to your stability...or you are drawn to their chaos. Or maybe it's just a fluke." OK. My best friend Andrea never knew her real father. She just referred to him as 'my sperm donor'. I always played with that term in my head. I'd imagine random dudes walking up to one of those red kettles you see next to people ringing a bell and jacking off into it. The whole thing would be close to overflowing with milky sperm by the end of the day. It was fun to fantasize about. I never talked about it, but probably everyone knew I was gay. I was never asked. 1999 I'd graduated with a degree in Industrial Design...which was just something I happened upon. You know your TV remote? The shape of it and the spacing between the buttons was all decided by an industrial designer somewhere. Not all that interesting -- except to other designers. I was recruited by a company in a decent-sized city with a depressingly-large Mormon population. I'd always thought those freaks were all kept in Utah, but apparently they had taken over other places. I'd put in a good year or two at this place before looking elsewhere. I pretty much hated everything about my new life. The job itself wasn't so bad, but most all of the citizens were religious zombies with six or seven kids. I couldn't escape them. The only people I talked to on a regular basis were the brassy, overweight secretary at work (I swear Bette Midler could play her in a movie) and one of the janitors in my apartment building. Roy was a friendly little Mexican bear with a winning smile. I guess he liked me because I didn't look down on his job or have the lofty attitude that so many of the white-collar young snots in my building had. I always said 'hello' when I saw him when he was mopping or vacuuming or whatever. He spoke perfect English (with only the faintest of accents) and came across as pretty intelligent. "Good morning, Roy. Are you always on the clock?" "Seems like it, doesn't it? I'm going through a divorce right now and I need all the hours I can get." "Sorry to hear that. Kids?" He shook his head 'no'. "No, I suppose that is a blessing." "Oh well...I'm running late. Gotta get to work." "Have a wonderful day, Tim." Well, it was the opposite of 'wonderful'. I fell om some rain-soaked concrete steps outside and broke my damn ankle, Because it happened on company property, the security team made me give a pee sample. My understanding is that if I were on drugs or drunk, they wouldn't be liable. Because I was clean, they had to cover all of my hospital bills and give me time off. It was a generous amount of leave because they were legally obligated. Luckily, it was a simple break and wouldn't require surgery. The pain pills kicked ass. I was pretty much helpless while medicated but I didn't care. I had cable TV and the internet. This would be a sort of drugged vacation. Worse things happened to people. I got around pretty well with crutches. TV game shows and reruns got tiresome within 48 hours. Computer porn didn't do much for my boredom because the pain pills had numbed me in all kinds of unhelpful places. I only left the apartment to get my mail, a newspaper or a soda from the vending machine. It was on one of those little ventures out that I ran into Roy. "Holy Christ! What happened to you??" "I broke my ankle, but I'm healing fast." "Your right foot - so you can't drive, right?" "No. Not for another sixty days." "Do you need things from the store?" "Nah. I have an attendant who comes by every other day to get me what I need. I don't even have to pay for any of it." "Thanks be to God. You look very tired." "Just the pills. I came down to get a Mountain Dew so I could wake up a little." "Stay there. I'll get it for you. Bottle or can? They have both." "Can's fine. Thanks." He returned with a Dew and wouldn't let me pay him. "It's cool. I got a key to the machine. I'll bring you another one later after I clean the windows down here." "I appreciate it, Roy. I'll leave the door unlocked because I sometimes fall asleep and don't hear the knocking." He seemed surprised by my offering of trust. "No no. Lock your door. I have keys to every apartment." "Oh. OK." "I will always knock first." "OK. Well...drop by any time. My schedule is all messed up when I'm not working." On the elevator ride back up, I wondered why I didn't feel uneasy about some guy being able to just walk right into my home. I guess it's the reality of apartment living. You never really own anything as a renter -- not even privacy. And Roy was a good person. I believed that, I watched some really dumb game shows for a few hours, and then there was the 'knock' I'd been looking forward to. "Come on in." Roy entered and was a little pissed off that I hadn't locked the door. He was carrying a six-pack of Corona and a Mountain Dew. "You think this place is so safe? It seems that way, but it's really not." "I'm pretty medicated, Roy. I forget things." "I'll lock it for you when I leave. I brought us some beers. You like Corona?" I'd never tried it. "Yeah, but I can't drink alcohol while taking these pills. Have one yourself, though." "Great. I need one. I like your place...your TV is very big. My soon-to-be ex wife kept ours and now I just watch a little portable thing with a broken antenna." He opened a beer and rested it on his knee. "Life sure hasn't turned out like I'd hoped." That was the kind of statement that is meant to prompt followup questions, so I obliged. "How did you want it to turn out, Roy?" "I wanted to stay married and raise a bunch of kids and give them happy lives. It wasn't meant to be." "Your wife couldn't have children?" "Wouldn't have them. Not with me anyway." "Oh. Sorry." "There's more to it, but I don't much like to talk about that stuff. Not now." He had a few more beers and then left the rest of the in my refrigerator. After a few more doctor appointments, I was told I was close to 100 % healed. Good news except they cut me off the pain pills cold turkey. I had no idea how much I'd depended on them, but at least I only had a few sleepless nights instead of some crazy freak out like you see on TV shows about addiction. I still had a bit of a limp but was assured that it would go away in a few weeks. During all this progress and healing, Roy was a frequent visitor. I wondered if I was his only friend. He had really been my only friend for the last two months. We talked for hours...well, he talked mostly while I listened. He needed an outlet for his frustration and grief about his failed marriage and lack of children. "I had nine brothers and sisters. Nine! We were so close and took care of each other." "Are you Catholic?" "Yeah, technically. But that's not why I want kids. I can't explain it. So, you back to work on Monday?" "Yup. I'm actually looking forward to getting back into a routine." "Well - we have to celebrate on Saturday night. I'll cook you dinner and bring some wine. You stopped the pain pills, right?" "Yeah, but you don't have to cook for me, man. We can go out somewhere." "Too late.I already bought most of the stuff. You have skillets? Pans?" "Yes. Rarely-used ones." He chuckled and left. My oven had only been used for cooking frozen pizza, and my stove had never been used. Mom had loaded me up with cookware when I first moved here. Is it weird that I was sort of thinking of the upcoming dinner as a 'date'? I told myself it wasn't. He was straight and not at all what you'd call 'my type'. So anyway. I got up pretty ear;y on Saturday morning and went to the mall. I needed the walk -- to help rebuild my leg muscles and also to burn off some nervous energy. I picked up assorted things here and there...throw pillows, scented candles, wine glasses and these really snazzy rock coasters with what looked like fossils inside. It wasn't a date, but I was preparing as if it were. I'm stupid. Roy was a friend - not a suitor. Of course he arrived early - before I had fully settled myself into the right mood. "Wow. It smells nice in here. Candles? I need to get some of those." He came with two loaded bags of stuff and went directly to my kitchen like he lived here too. "Cool - wine glasses! I forgot to even ask you if you had any." He clanked around at my oven and shelves while I just stood like a giant pigeon in the middle of my living room. I thought about turning the TV on but was thinking maybe I should go keep him company in the kitchen while he cooked. "You got some music? I like to hear music when I cook." "What do you like?" "It's your party, buddy. Pick something and I'll pour us some wine." This would require a little thought and I wasn't prepared. I stuck in David Byrne's first solo CD. I loved it and it was very influenced by Latin culture. It started and was maybe a little too loud. I went to the kitchen. Roy had pretty much taken over everything and was already browning some crumbled meat in a skillet and adding various seasonings. The oven was also on. He handed me a glass pf dark red wine. "Casa Medaro. It's not easy to find. Try it." I knew absolutely nothing about wine except that the few times I'd tasted it I hadn't liked it so much. "It's good, huh?" It was...which is good because he brought three bottles of it. "What are you making? It smells wonderful." "This and that. Pull up a chair and chat with me as I chop vegetables...these knives look like they've never been used." They hadn't. "Doesn't mean you don't have to sharpen the from time to time. My father taught me that." I finally noticed how Roy was dressed. I'd only ever seen him in his dark blue coveralls but now he was in a nice polo shirt, shorts and sandals. His short, powerful legs were covered with black fur and I had this image of him standing in the shower with rivulets of water tracing little paths through the thick black hair. His wife was an idiot for letting him go. The food was incredible and I might have overdone it with the compliments. We'd already polished off one and half bottles of wine by the time the meal was finished. I blew out the candles when we came back into the living room. Their scent wasn't making much headway against the cooking smells. I turned the music down a little and told my guest to make himself comfortable. Now what? I didn't want to overthink this. "Whoa. Cool coasters. Are those little fossils? You should have seen all the fossils I used to find in Coahuila. That's where my parents are from. Let's finish up the second bottle. My divorce was final as yesterday. I don't have any more legal bills, but I also don't have much of anything else either. Bitch got everything." "Everything??" "Yeah. In every way possible." "Your lawyer should have worked harder on your behalf." "Let's just say that she had me over a barrel. Let's open the last bottle. I have two more at my place if we decide we need more." He took off his sandals which I guess some would consider rude, but I liked that he felt at home here...plus it gave me a chance to admire his fat little toes. He padded back to the kitchen and fetched the tasty wine. I don't think I'd ever drank so much and still felt so alert and mostly normal. My antenna was up because I'd been around troubled people for so long and it seemed like he wanted to talk about something, but I couldn't push him right now. "Want to watch a movie?" He shook his head and handed me a way-too-full glass. "No no. Let's just talk. Tell me what your job is again...I still don't quite understand what you do." "I design everyday things to make them easier for people to use. Right before my accident, we were working on new ATM machines. They have to be the right height and simple to understand and also look nice. The bank rejected our first proposed design because it didn't look 'friendly'." Roy nodded as if he understood. "So yeah...I have HIV." What? Wow. I mean, wow. I wasn't expecting that. "Is that why you're getting a divorce?" "Pretty much. That's really your first question? Huh. I figured you'd ask me how I got it...." "I shouldn't have asked anything. I should have just said 'I'm sorry.' Blame the wine. I'm not a drinker." "So...do you want to know?" His eyes were full of hurt. "Only if if you want to tell me, Roy." He shrugged. "It was so stupid. I never went to college, but I always followed my friends when they went to Padre Island for spring breaks. Drunk chicks with hardly clothes on and lots of alcohol automatically guarantees a good time. But stuff goes on there. Bad stuff. That's all I can say for now." "It's fine, Roy. I mean it's not 'fine'...it's just... I'm fine. I was blessed with a really good pair of ears in case you need to talk." "I know this. My wife is still negative somehow. But she wouldn't go near my dick after I told her. I wanted so much to have kids... lots of them. Magic Johnson's wife didn't leave him and she had one of his babies even." "And that was a while ago. There are probably all kinds of new drugs now." "Yeah. Probably too expensive for me. You're a guy, Tim...don't you wish you could spread your seed? It's biological. I can't even give away my genes now." "Some people are missing limbs or have brain damage, Roy. Some people don't even get the chance to be alive. My mom had three miscarriages before I was born. I'm not diminishing your pain or anything, I'm just saying that life is a roll of a dice." He looked down and took another sip of wine. "I wish I had donated sperm when it was clean...then at least I might have some kids out there somewhere." I tried to cheer him up by telling him how I used to imagine guys donating sperm on the street. He looked at me funny. "That's a very strange thing to imagine, Tim. It's...it's so sad that nobody would even pay a cent for my seed now." "I would." "What? OK, no more wine for you, buddy. You have been over-served." "Not so much, really. You told me a big secret and now I'll tell you one -- I'm gay." His expression didn't change in the slightest. "Yeah. I guess maybe I knew that. You're too clean and too polite. I'm totally straight, but if I was gay I'd marry you so fast." That was a very nice thing to say. I would have accepted his proposal. "Thanks, Roy. You'd make a great husband -- even if you weren't handsome and couldn't cook such great food." He smiled at last. "You think I'm 'handsome'?" "Oh yeah. Very." "I still think you're just too drunk." Unless I was very much mistaken, he had dropped a hand to his crotch to hide a growing boner. "I can help you with that." Shit. Maybe I was drunk. "You...you'd suck me? Even with the HIV?" I hadn't even meant oral sex -- I was just going to jack him off, but okay. "It's pretty much safe. I'd even pay you for the chance." "Yeah. I won't touch you and I won't cum in your mouth. Ten bucks." "Deal." I hadn't even bothered to notice how things were moving. It seems like we were just discussing ATM's. I quickly got on my knees right between his furry legs in one liquid motion. He stood up and pulled down his shorts. No underwear. I had to wonder if he hadn't seen this coming (so to speak). His dick was not massive, but it was chubby and curved severely upward toward the tip. How his wife never managed to never get infected was one of God's mysteries. I was careful not to touch him with my hands. I just opened my mouth and let him put the head of his dick past my lips. "Ahhhh! I never thought I'd ever feel my dick sucked again!" He stabbed that dagger of a dong farther in with each thrust. I don't know if he knew this was my first time. He said he wouldn't touch me, but he grabbed handfuls of my hair as he did his thing. "Yeah...suck that cock!" I imagined he had his eyes closed or was looking at the ceiling - or anything else besides the male blowing him. "OK! Stop! I'm gonna cum! STOP!" I did. I missed that penis as soon as it was out of my mouth. He was shooting his load now over my head. I turned my face up to catch what I could and saw he was looking straight down at me. He knew I wanted at least a taste and he aimed it for my nose. Drops and dribbles landed on my eyelids and lips. It was so much warmer than I expected. "Wow." The CD had ended at some point and I hadn't even noticed. I stood up and savored the flavor of Roy for a a second before finishing my glass of wine. There were a few pubes in my mouth. "Thanks, man." He pulled up his shorts. "YOU are thanking ME??" "Thanking you for your kind donation. Thanking you warmly." It was kind of awkward to just continue the evening like nothing happened so Roy decided he should call it a night. "I'll stop by tomorrow and do the dishes. Good night, Tim." As soon as he was gone, I lied flat on the floor and beat off. If this is how satisfying sex always was, I'm sorry I'd never tried it before. After the orgasm, I realized I'd forgotten to give him the ten dollars. I'd finish the rest of the wine left in the bottle and wait until he was probably asleep and then go slip a twenty under his door. Hell, I'd leave a fifty dollar bill if I had that. I turned on the TV and found some B movie that only a drinker could possibly find amusing. I fished a twenty out of a little stash of money I kept on hand for emergencies. The building was quiet for a Saturday night as I took the elevator down to the first floor where Roy lived in a little studio apartment. I'd briefly thought of leaving a note too, but maybe that wouldn't be wise since he might have all kinds of second thoughts about what we'd done. I sure wasn't. I slept so soundly that night and woke up fairly late with only the smallest of hangovers. I showered, dressed and then went to wash the dishes. The twenty had been returned through the crack in my door. A little post-it was attached. You don't have to pay for donations, R Roy knocked on my door around 2 that afternoon. My heart did a cartwheel. He was in nice casual clothes again and looked like a million bucks. How did I ever think he wasn't my type? "How you feeling today, amigo?" "Fine. Really fine. Good to see you again." "I'm ready to help you clean up." "It's all done. You left your corkscrew and I even washed that." He plopped down on my couch and removed his sandals again. "The game is on. You follow the Diamondbacks?" "Off and on. I still have those Coronas you left a while back. Want one?" "Sure. Why not?" By the fourth inning, I was sucking his dick again. It wasn't planned or expected by either of us. I even touched the back of his calves this time. I knew he wanted me to swallow his load this time but he just wouldn't do it. He pulled out again and baptized me with hot seed. I got a big glob in my eye which stung like fuck, but I didn't indicate my pain in an way. He just pulled his shorts on again and we finished watching the game as if nothing happened. We chatted like buddies and drank the beers. The routine remained the same on an almost daily basis. We'd hang out, I'd suck him and he'd shoot all over my face. I kept trying to hold him in my mouth as long as I could...and one day he came in my mouth, and we didn't ever discuss it. By the middle of Summer, I'd swallowed a gallon of his cum. He enentually let me hold hold his hairy ass as he thrust. It was perfect. He got to release his seed and I got to be on the receiving end. On July 4th, he brought over a box of wine. I knew they sold it like this, but had never tried it. It was a 'blush' and Roy assured me it was "better than you'd think". It wasn't bad. Not bad at all. We were watching "A League of Their Own" on TV and enjoying the wine and friendly talk like usual. "Isn't it always weird how late it gets dark this time of year? It makes the days seem so long." It wasn't night yet but we heard random fireworks outside. "After dark, the park across the street is supposed to have one of those big public firework displays." "Can we see it from here?" "No. Not from this room, but my bedroom faces the park." I didn't mean for that to be any sort of suggestive invitation, but it probably came out that way. "Cool. We can watch it there. It should be dark in an hour. More wine?" We'd brought the box out to the living room and were just refilling during commercial breaks. I didn't want to put another movie in when "League" had ended. I wanted to talk as dusk approached. I needed to talk but had no idea how to start. "I read an article in Newsweek about all these great new AIDS drugs coming out. Some of them can make the virus undetectable in your blood." "Yeah, and I bet I could afford exactly none of them." "Too bad you don't look more like me. You could use my I.D. and insurance card to get care." "Yeah. If you had HIV, you could get those pills and we could share them." It's funny how an idea can spark and spread like fire through dry grass. I was thinking about things I never thought I'd ever consider. It was almost dark. "Bring the wine and let's go watch the show." My bedroom was as neat and nice as the rest of the place. Roy made himself comfortable on my bed and propped up on the pillows as I opened the blinds. I turned off the lights to better see the fireworks. I knew these things never started on time, but I wanted to lie in bed with him in the lush darkness. He'd undressed completely as if he had been reading my mind. "You know I'm not gay, Tim. Right?" "Yes." "Still, I'd like to fuck you and give you my HIV. Would you be willing?" "Oh yes. I was going to suggest that if you didn't." "OK. I've fucked a man before...it's probably how I got the disease in the first place. But you have to be sure you want to make this sacrifice for me. We can get those new drugs if you test positive." "My plan exactly." I turned over on my stomach without thinking too much about how it probably wouldn't be too practical for each of us to take half-doses of a medicine - it might even be harmful. I'd just let him have all of it, and I'd bide my time. There...solved. I wanted him to fuck me so bad. That was the goal. He spit on my butt crack and rubbed the hard head up and down to get some on himself. He spit again and then again. He was jerking himself off. "I want to make this as quick as I can for you. I'm almost ready... OK. Let's do this." I had never once imagined that it would be such a hot, searing pain. I winced and sucked in air between my teeth. "You OK?" "I...yeah..don't go in any more just now. Let me...ow...let me get used to it for a second." "Deal. Wow...it feels so nice! Hot and tight. Damn! How about just a little more?" "Yeah." I figured it couldn't possibly get any worse. But it did somehow. I could feel the sensitive skin down there rip a little. No way. I needed to stop this now, but then...but the the searing turned into more of an ache. Tolerable. It didn't feel good, but I could survive this. He was all the way in when he let himself collapse on my back. It was like a heavy, hairy cushion covering me and I liked that part. He kept up a steady pace of pumping and grunting. "I'm about to let it out..I'm ready to...FUCK!" He was shooting that tainted payload deep into my ruined ass. It happened faster than I could think. He probably did that on purpose before I changed my mind. We stayed prone like that for a good twenty seconds while he caught his breath. "Thank you, Tim. You doing that for me means so much." I needed the bathroom right away for obvious reasons. I took care of things as best I could and returned to the bedroom where I saw the still-naked Roy wiping off his dick of with some tissues from my nightstand. "You OK? The fireworks just started." They certainly had. "Yeah. You can use the shower if you want, I'll get you a towel." "Maybe later. Let's watch the show." We both relaxed on the bed and made random comments about the display...as if nothing even remotely new had happened. I couldn't stop my overactive imagination from picturing what the virus was doing in my body now. Was it blasting away my immune system like dynamite? Or had the fuse just been lit? Was it like there were little vandals in my bloodstream, randomly breaking things in random organs? The fireworks ended about an hour later and Roy said he was too tired and comfortable to get dressed and leave and the promptly fell asleep. So our breeding sessions continued for a few more months. It felt like we were lovers except that we didn't kiss or show any physical affection when we were together. I was just a release for a friend who liked to shoot his seed in warm places. I would also his means to medical treatment. Was I as okay with that and that only? For how long? I kept putting off getting tested and Roy didn't push me to get it over with. I was waiting for an appointment with my regular doctor in early November when I always went to get a flu shot. As November 2 approached, Roy hit me with the news that his brother had gotten a really good job in San Diego with a landscaping business. "He said he'd get me hired and the pay is really good - and comes with health insurance!" "Wow. Congratulations. It's supposed to be very beautiful there." I don't think I said that very convincingly. "When are you leaving?" "The week of Thanksgiving. I need to sell all my shit and just go." That's it? No mention of me or the damage he'd done to me? No apology? "We can go celebrate tonight if you want to." "No. Just go. We're done here. Goodbye, Roy." He looked surprised and hurt, but I mean -- what the fuck? I didn't give him much of a chance to say anything, just showed him to the door and locked it after he left. It was over, but it never would anything anyway. Of course I tested positive and my very cool doctor assured me she'd see to it that I'd have a long life. I also started seeing a therapist in the same building. He and I are still sorting through all of this. One concrete obstacle we keep hitting is how I could feel mourning for a love I'd never technically had. He encouraged me to write about it. I just did.

NOTE: I am revisiting and rewriting a tale I'd posted a while back that was removed because of it's violent/ death-oriented content. It was certainly not intentional, but it disturbed a number of members and I was reprimanded. It has always bugged me that I'd put so much work into that story only to fuck up the ending. I resubmit this revised version that will hopefully make amends for my previous bad judgement. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION 1990 I'm Joey. I tried to go by 'Joe' as I got older, but I guess I looked too much like a 'Joey' to be shed of that name. Whatever. I was 22 back then and still pretty pissed that Dukakis had lost the election. I lived in cozy little apartment near the company I worked for. It was a medium-sized city with a decimated downtown. 'White Flight' had left our once thriving city streets empty. This was no big deal to me because I'd never seen the 'glory days' when beautiful restaurants, jazz clubs and department stores thrived. I'd only known that section as decayed. The city council was making an effort to revitalize downtown by trying to build pricey lofts and office space. I kept track of the firs and starts of these efforts in the morning paper. One story that caught mt eye was about a little park near the bus station that was reportedly the scene of all kinds of unseemly activity (drug dealing, gay stuff and plain old vagrancy. The whole park would have been dozed over if not for the fact that it was WW 1 memorial, with statues of random generals. The lost souls who ended up there were spared. For now. This was also the time period when I realized I'd always be gay. For the longest time I thought I could break it like a bad habit by just not thinking about men. Of course that didn't work. I gave up efforts to cure myself and just surrendered to porn. There was an adult book store on Pennsylvania Street where I bought magazines and video tapes. I really loved the older pre-condom stuff. I developed a preference for certain scenes and certain performers. I liked 'em big, brawny and mean. Dick size didn't even matter to me as much as the way it was used. Jon Vincent was my favorite. Man! He always fucked his bottoms with no tenderness and a lot of verbal abuse. I had a type, an ideal. Even though I had no experience with gay men or even sex of any kind. I basically beat off a lot. There was too many lofts and not enough tenants according to the paper. Landlords were panicked and cutting rent across the board. Maybe I'd check a few of them out on the first weekend of April. The streets down there were set up in a very schizophrenic way. Some of them would change from two-way to one-way without much warning. They'd curve and change names as well. So I was lost. I never found the Bradford Building, but I did find the legendary park that had made the news so often. I decided it wouldn't hurt to just drive through it, It was a mild, sunny day and nobody would try to carjack my old clunker. It was nice and better maintained than you'd imagine. Lots of parked cars were everywhere. Most of them were empty, but a few of them contained a solitary driver. I saw a few young guys were wandering around like tourists, but others were lurking among the trees and bushes. I could pretty much guess the kind of stuff going on there. I hadn't arrived at a point where I could even imagine doing anything like that. I couldn't conquer my fears any more than I could my sexuality. Oh well. On the way home, I saw a little bar with a lavender neon triangle in the window. It was called 'Soaks' or 'Soakies' or something like that. I knew there were gay bars in the city but never driven by one before. OK. Here was one of them. I doubt I'd ever be able to step foot in the place, but who knows? Well, I knew by 9 o'clock that night. I'd go. It would be adventure for the year.There was very little chance I'd find my ideal there or anywhere, but this needed to be done. It was only 8 PM on a Saturday night, but it felt like I'd been getting myself ready for days already. Some aunt had given me a bottle of wine for graduation last year and I decided it was time to open it. Yuck! I would never be one of those 'wine people'. I drained about half of it before I felt I could leave the apartment. Maybe the whole bottle was needed because I still thought I might chicken out. It was like the time I took a public speaking class and just had to force myself to stand in front of my high school peers and act like it was the normal thing in the world. I did it back then so I could do it now. It was called "Soaks" and it was the only open business on the whole block. The whole front of the place was plate glass which indicated it had been some kind of retail shop in the old days. But it looked friendly and safe...but a little filthy. OK. At least was plenty of close parking on the street and coins in the meter weren't required after 6. I sat and waited in the car for a good fifteen seconds. The key was to just go in and pretend I'd been here a million times before. The first thing I noticed when I entered was the bartender. He was a very tall guy in his late 30's/early 40's. He had some blondish-gray stubble and a severely receding hairline. His arms were very long. Marfan Syndrome. Abraham Lincoln had it - a genetic thing I remembered from biology class. The second thing I noticed was the sparse crowd. The guys sitting at the bar were in their 60's and 70's. The dudes in the back were all young, tattooed and looked fresh out of prison. Mr. Marfan stopped me before I got five steps inside. "You got I.D.?" "Sure do." My face showed that I wasn't the least bit pissed off. I just fished it out of my wallet and handed it to him. "Oh. You're just barely legal -- don't blame me. It seems like a hundred years since I was asked for I.D." "No big deal." I tried not to study him like he was a slide being shown in anatomy class. "First time here?" I took a seat at the bar where there were empty stools on either side of me. I was still easing into this. "New visitors get a free beer." "Cool." He handed me a can of Miller Lite. A can. I assumed all bars served beer in bottles but I guess not. "Let me know when you need another. I own the place so you don't gotta tip." I almost said 'cool' again but caught myself in time. "Do you have a pinball machine here?" "Yeah, but it's out of order. Sorry. There's one of them touch-screen games right over there at the bar." I looked and saw what he was talking about, but there was a really drunk - almost comatose- old guy next to it. No. Not now. "Not much of a crowd for Saturday night." I sucked (and still suck) at small talk. "Take a good look because this is as crowded as it gets. I'm James by the way." He offered up his crazy long hand to shake. My own hand felt like a child's as I shook it. "I'm Joey. Or Joe. Whatever's easiest to remember." "Oh you'll be easy to remember. You just move into one of the lofts across the street?" "No. I'm thinking about lofts, but I'm still in midtown right now." "Can I ask why you're even in this place?" "I saw it earlier and thought I'd check it out." He noticed that I kept glancing over at the game. "You can play that. Don't mind Drucker. He's harmless. Need some quarters?" "Nope. I'm good for now." Years of dorm and apartment living had made me hoard quarters like they were made of gold. I sauntered over to the empty seat in front of the machine as if it was routine. I felt James looking at me. Sure enough, the nodding drunk guy next to me didn't even notice my presence. He smelled like my grandpa. Scotch. The crowd started to thin even more. I was waiting for somebody to approach me, but none of the did. My Jon Vincent was at some other bar tonight. That was okay. I was kicking ass at the trivia games. My initials spelled out 'J.A.T.' and I had the highest score in every category except sports. James came by and handed me another beer. "Tonight is a '2 for 1' special." It was a still in a can. but it was cold. Right after I ran out of quarters and was trying to figure out if I should leave or not, Drucker fell backwards and landed on the floor with a thud. "SHIT! James! Call an ambulance!" He looked a little annoyed. "No no. This happens every night. I call him a cab and charge it to his tab." I wasn't so sure. He was on the floor. I knelt down and tried talking to him. "Can you open your eyes? Can you speak? Just breathe, OK?" His eyes fluttered open. "It's Charlie Sheen! I can't believe it!" Uh. "No. Are you able to stand?" "I'll stand up if you kiss me, Charlie." No way was my first kiss going to be with a drunk, toothless old fart. And then he was out cold again. James walked from behind the bar in no great hurry. "Can you help me lift him up and get him out to the sidewalk?" No. Yes. It's not anything I'd ever counted on doing, but there was really no way I could say 'no' at this point. It wasn't so difficult to lift him with James' help but getting him dragged to the door was a bit more of a challenge. By the time we got him out to the street, the cab was already there. We poured him into the backseat and stood there for a few seconds before returning to the bar. "This happens every night?" "Pretty much. Sometimes I convince him to toddle home before he gets to that state." The place was empty now and it was barely even 11. "Glad I could help." "Well you earned a free shot, Joey. What would you like?" "Whatever. I'm not picky." Truth was I didn't know anything about hard liquor. I knew it came in brown or clear. "Here. Top shelf whiskey. I might as well use it all before the city shuts me down for good. That'll be fine with me because I own the whole building. I'll make enough to retire and go live on a beach somewhere." That sounded nice. "Hey -- want to hear some music?" "Sure." The shot was harsh but it went down easy enough. I think I actually even liked it. "I've got a bunch of mix tapes from the 80's. That's probably something you'd appreciate." Oh, it was. The bar may have been in sorry shape, but the stereo/speaker system was very decent. The opening sounds of 'Ghost Busters' came spilling out from the walls. Nice. I asked for another beer and insisted on paying for it this time. He lowered the volume a bit and emerged from behind the bar to come join me. He brought my beer and a whole bottle of that expensive whiskey. OK. This night had been full of the unexpected. James sat his lanky frame next to me. "I need to get off my feet for a little. We'll sit here in the VIP section. You mind?" "Of course not." "So is this really the first gay bar you've ever been in?" Did I tell me him that or did he just know? "Yeah. My diary was getting pretty boring, so I thought I'd add a little something new to it." He chuckled and poured us two more shots. "Most cute young guys like you usually go to dance clubs or the gym to meet men." "I always imagine places like that as being full of people who know how to be there already. They have their own secret handshakes and inside jokes. I...I don't feel welcome." "You think too much, Joey. Have another shot." James spun his stool around to face me and, when I didn't do the same, he turned me around too. I noticed how roughed up his jeans were. He'd worn two holes right over his bony kneecaps. There were some leg hairs visible and it was incredibly sexy somehow. Most of my porn favorites were shaved and waxed within an inch of their lives. The whiskey was starting to loosen my tongue and so I spoke about my particular tastes when it came to men and sex. I just came right out and admitted that I liked aggressive, verbal tops who were verbal. It's like I was reading a diary entry out loud. James nodded. "So what do you do?" "I just started at Plexico -- in the I.T. department." "No. What do you do when your dick gets hard? Just stay at home and beat off?" Id never felt so pathetic. I helped myself to another shot. "Well...I guess so.' "I'm sorry -- that was harsh. You're probably smart to go that route for now." I looked in his dark hazel/brown eyes. He was kind. I couldn't help but reach down and touch his exposed knees. Warm skin and bone. "Rapture" by Blondie played next. I was instantly a 13 year old again. Face to face, dance cheek to cheek/ One to one/ man to man/ Toe to toe/ Don't move too slow... Remember being that age? When music said so much and spoke to you in code. James returned my touch with his own. He stroked my hair with his skinny fingers. And then we were kissing. Warm, wet, whiskey-flavored lips and a touch or two of our tongues. Wow. Dear Diary.... "One more shot, Joey. After that, I'll have to call you a cab. Two more, and you'll have to come upstairs and spend the night." "Upstairs?" "My apartment is on the second floor. It's kind of a mess, but I wasn't expecting Charlie Sheen to show up tonight." "Oh, you heard that? I've never been compared to an actor before. Poor Drucker." "He's lived quite a life." James poured me another shot. And then another one. I wondered how long it would take for my stomach to start protesting. He was just taking sips from the bottle now. "Will you please kiss me again?" He obliged and it was a little more intense this time. The Bangles' 'Eternal Flame' began. Timing. I made a decision right then to just let James take over and direct the rest of the night. "For future reference - you don't have to ask. One more shot and I'll lock up and we can go upstairs." I downed it as he secured the door and register, set the alarm and tossed our shot glasses into a sink behind the bar. He shut off some of the lights and then led me to a door at the back which he unlocked. "Careful. These stairs are a little dangerous." He was for sure right about that. It was a steep climb and the steps were narrow. I couldn't imagine a guy with such long feet going up and down these every day. At the top of the stairs was a dimly lit hallway. It was very dark and retro...like a scene from some David Lynch movie. The inside of his apartment was nice, if a little unorganized. "Have a seat. Can you a beer or a Coke or something? Oh wait, I drank the last Coke this morning." "Beer's fine." He brought two cold bottles over to the couch and sat down next to me. Maybe it was my imagination or the booze, but I swear I could feel heat coming off of his body. Possibly he was running a fever. He put a long arm around me. "Where we we?" Then we were kissing again and this time it felt like he was consuming my whole face. We were both breathing deeply. The smell of lust combined with alcohol fumes. His tongue darted into my right ear which made me rock hard. I'd know from that point on that my ears were a weakness that any man could take advantage of. "I can give you what you've been looking for. Almost. I can't fuck you without a condom. I've got AIDS. I'd love to give you everything else, though." "Yes." I imagined the ways I could convince him to change his mind about the rubber. He stood up and started to strip with his back turned to me. He was so skinny, but also had some muscle definition in his legs. His butt looked a little odd -- like all the fat had been sucked out of it, leaving all the skin to just hang. He turned around and I saw his boner jutting straight out. It was a nice length, but kind of skinny... like the rest of him. "Take off your clothes, dumb faggot!" He noticed my mixed reaction. "You wanted verbal abuse, right? Or was that just a bluff?" I got out of my clothes in record time. "Good boy. Now get on the floor and crawl over to me. Now!" I did as told. It was as erotic as I could have ever imagined. "Stay! Now suck on this dick like your life depended on it...because it just might." He had a pocketknife in his left hand that I hadn't noticed before. Shit! He was good at this! His pointy cock was sizzling hot against my lips. I worked my tongue over the purple head and savored the subtle flavors and textures. Then he held the blade against the top of my ear. "If I feel any teeth, I'll cut your goddamn ear off. Think I'm kidding?" I felt the sharp blade press down a little. I don't think he broke the skin, but this was maybe going a little too far. Still, I loved having that hot boner in my mouth and performed what I thought was an excellent blowjob despite the fact that it was my first time. James must have liked what I was doing because he folded up the knife and let it drop to the floor. "Yeah. You got an AIDS dick your mouth, stupid fag. I can feel my oily, filthy precum leaking down your goddamn throat. Like that? Of course you do -- you're a fuckin' perv. " I thought I'd shoot my own load right there and then. "Sit there and savor the taste of HIV. I'll be right back. DON'T MOVE." I didn't. He came back with a bottle of baby oil and a wrapped condom. I was running out of time to talk him out of being 'safe'. "You're lucky, you dumb fuck. This is my last one. You better hope it doesn't break or I'll be flooding your guts with disease. Get on your hands and knees like a dog. Yeah. Like that. Good boy. Look at the floor and don't move." I heard him unwrap the condom and squirt some of the oil on himself. In seconds, he was working those greasy fingers up into my rectum. It was rough and so unromantic -- which was fine with me. I would be experienced after tonight, braver. "Stupid, tight virgin ass. You better pray this rubber is strong. It's going to take some work...and you aren't even worth it. Dumb fag." It started to happen. The solid, swollen head of his sheathed penis was suddenly inside of me. The fantasy shattered into pieces for me. Too much pain. What we'd already done was enough. "NO! Stop!" "Nobody said you could speak, asshole. Hold on. It feels nice in there....yeah!!!" He worked deeper inside of me...and it didn't stop hurting until it suddenly did. He kept up the abusive language..and that's probably what made me loosen up more. "There you go, boy. There's just a layer of latex...thinner than a human hair keeping you protected from millions of AIDS babies. Think about that, faggot." I did, but what I was thinking is that I wish he really were going to breed me good and proper. "Your ride is almost over...I'm gonna ....FUCK!" He stopped and pulled out of me. "Goddamn rubber broke." His voice and tone went back to normal. "Sorry, Joey. We can beat off together if you want. Shit. The thing was probably too old." "No. Go back in. You can pull out when you need to shoot." "That won't work. I can't. Won't." I stayed put and pushed my ass toward him a little. It was subtle, but my intentions should have been crystal clear. They were. "OK. But just for a few seconds.. We can't play around with....Ahhhh!" He had pushed back inside. The nerve endings on his dick must have been dancing because he stayed longer than a few seconds...and went back all the way to down his nuts. He resumed the pace but not the hot talk. I knew and James probably knew I knew what was about to happen. "NO! I ...." It happened. He hadn't really made much of an effort to pull out, and I guess that made him upset - with both of us. He sat down on the floor next to me and started sobbing. "No. I'm so sorry. So SO sorry. I can't take it back." We held each other for several minutes. "Are you mad at me, Joey?" His face was streaked with tears. "Not at all. I'm the one to blame...I wanted it." "I know, but.... I just ruined your life." "That's not certain. It's all up to nature now." He stopped crying and looked at me in the most tender way. "Will you stay the night with me?" I did just that. I went back to Soaks almost every night. I'd built up some upper torso muscles from lifting Drucker off the floor regularly. I might have even started a little bit of a drinking problem. Sometimes James and I had sex and sometimes he just didn't feel well enough. One night he came right out and told me not to come back again. "The city finally bought me out. Bad timing, though. I'm headed into a hospice on Sunday. It's the end, Joey. I don't want you see me like that. Please don't forget me." "Never." And that was the last time I saw him. I'd had all my fantasies fulfilled - which can be very satisfying unless you start developing even darker desires. END

1980 It's funny and a little depressing to think back at the time when I was so sure I wanted to be a newspaper reporter. I guess I could blame an old TV show called "Lou Grant". I was a little gay teen who had a confusing crush on a news reporter named "Rossi". I didn't know I wanted to go to bed with him back then, I just knew I wanted to sit behind a typewriter and compose copy about late-breaking stories. It's exactly what I wanted to do. Troy wanted to be a sports broadcaster, Shane wanted to be an actor and Karletta was going to have her own beauty salon. We were all 14 and the future seemed so close yet so infuriatingly far away. 1986 I never thought about any other line of work. Journalism. That was decided and I was in college now. The future kept coming faster and faster. I took all the classes I was supposed to. It would be at least two years before I could apply to work on the campus newspaper, but I imagined it constantly. Our school was pretty big and the campus paper had gained some prestige. I read it all -- except for the sports stuff or anything about frats and sororities. There was a lot of controversy about using university funds to supply us with free condoms. I knew about AIDS, and I knew it was mostly a gay sex disease that had no cure. I read it all with a detached interest. I knew I was gay, but had no idea if I'd ever do the butt sex stuff. Not anytime soon. I lived close to my parents and usually visited a few times a month. I did laundry and ate as much of Mom's home-cooking as I could. She always sent me home with food, little gifts and all their old magazines. My favorite was "Smithsonian". There was one issue with a feature about an AIDS activist in London. His name was Ian Furmedge and he was on the European forefront of raising funds for cures and treatments. He had the disease. One whole page was a black and white photograph of him where he was sitting at an antique wood table in his pajamas. He was thin, had a dark beard and his feet were bare. There was a window behind him. The shadows only complimented his thin, handsome face. I read that article so many times, always looking back at the photo. I needed to write him, but how? The only phone number I had was for the subscription department. They'd have no idea. I ended up just addressing a short note to him in care of the Smithsonian's address. It basically just said that I admired his work and also his photo. I thanked him for his efforts. College was hard - mainly because nobody made you do anything. If you failed, too bad. Nobody was there to keep you on the straight and narrow. I was not the most disciplined person back then. I just plugged along. I'd bought a nice frame for Ian's photograph and kept it on my desk so I could look at it all the time. My stoner roommate noticed it once and asked me who it was. "Who's that?" "My dad." He probably wasn't old enough to be my dad, but I was not an expert liar back then. "Really? You don't look anything like him. Is he sick?" "No. Just skinny." "Big feet. Huh. He just doesn't look like a dad." He wandered away in his own private haze. I'm pretty sure I had just failed my German 101 test. I hated that class, but journalism majors had to take eight credit hours of a foreign language. I wanted to just cry at how badly I was doing in that class. Back at the dorm, I checked to see if I had any mail. The slot was usually empty excepts for some little greeting card from Mom or credit card applications for my roommate. Any company that offered that moron credit deserved to go bankrupt. But today I got an actual envelope with an actual handwritten letter in it. It was from overseas! From Ian! Holy Shit! My heart raced. I was alone in the elevator with the prize in my hand. I sniffed the envelope for some reason. It just smelled like mail. Dear Bradley, Cheers from Eaton! Thanks so much for your very nice note. It's the only piece of fan mail I've ever gotten! I wish I liked that story as much as you did. It seemed a bit scattered to me. I'm pleased you enjoyed the photograph of me. I never like how I look on camera. Might I see a picture of you? Are you liking University? Is it stressful? I was born in Argentina and actually lived in the states for some years. New Mexico. I've never been to Denver. Is it quite beautiful there? I picture mountains and snow when I hear "Colorado". I'd very much like to visit there. There's a "World Health" conference in Boulder, CO in the Summer. I'm obliged to attend. Perhaps I'll see you there??? My health is improving at this time, and thank you for asking. I'm taking some new herbal pills from China. It might be all bollocks, but I feel much invigorated. It's good timing because I'm always busy. Are you active in campus AIDS causes? I wish to inspire you to do so if you aren't already engaged in that. It takes some courage, but it's so critical. Please do post me again. I want to know more about you. I picture you at the library, reading and studying. Always, Ian I don't think I took a single breath as I read it all. I hadn't even taken the backpack off my shoulder. I'd opened the envelope so carefully that the seal was intact. His tongue had licked it and I kissed every inch. Stupid and out of character for me. I supposed I was a teen-aged girl now. My Dearst Bradley, So surprised to get such a fast reply! Firstly, I loved the photo you included! So dashing...and so young. You're wearing a coat and tie -- was this a special occasion of some kind? I'm guessing you are 19 or 20. Yes? I'm 41. I probably look older nowadays but no gray hair as of yet. There is wisdom in that face of yours...as well as a bit of trouble. Pardon my query, but have you suffered a loss? Mate, we all wear our pain on a daily basis. Feel free to tell me anything as I am the most excellent listener/reader. Speaking of which -- would you ever imagine calling me? I know it is probably a bit dear to call such a distance, but it can wait a bit. I'm six hours ahead of you...which makes me a bit of a time-traveler (ha). I can tell you that future is fine and looking better each day. To answer your questions: 1. My favorite movie is 'The Maltese Falcon" 2. I listen to mostly classical music, but I do enjoy some pop songs 3. I'm not in a relationship right now. I just don't have the time at present. How about you? Are you with someone? He or she is very blessed indeed. I urge you again to contribute to your university's AIDS programs. Time is almost as valuable as money. It must be difficult to find spare time with your studies. Just try and accept that you are challenged by foreign language. Don't try to be the class prize in German class. Just do enough to pass (I predict you'll get a 'B' or better). Try absorbing the language willingly...without frustration or resentment. Anger and fear are harmful. More photos of me? Surely. I can send the outtakes from The Smithsonian shoot. Or would you something a bit more personal? I am not afraid to share. I'm thinking of you. Luv. I wonder what you are doing and wearing whenever I get a spare moment (not often enough!!) A kiss, Ian That night I called the campus hotline and asked about volunteer programs. The nice girl told me there were only millions of them. "What about 'AIDS prevention'? Or fundraising?" "Oh. Um... lots. Do you want something 'gay specific' or does that matter?" "Gay." I swallowed audibly. She didn't seem the least bit rattled. "Try calling GLSOC. They will help direct you to where the most resources are needed. Got a pen? Here's the number: --- -----. If you're on campus, you only have to dial the last four numbers." "Thank you." "No problem. Anything else?" "No. Good night." My Bradley, Such an uplifting letter from you! The photos stiffened me up nicely -- for a whole day!! I take it you took those in a mirror? Yes? I have the lot of them on my nightstand. You didn't show your willy, but I could picture it well enough from the outline in your skivvies. Quite nice! I am including some of my own. I'm a bit more furry than you. Hope you like them anyway. I know a bloke who works as a photographer. He will print any kind of XXX request you have. I am not pretty, but also not modest. I am here for you to see! I'm happy you went and signed-up with a program. It can make you feel vulnerable to hand out condoms and literature eight there in the open. You're right -- people will assume things about you. Swallow that and stuff it way down. It is worth the effort! We can make a difference, mate. I'm also pleased that you got an 'A' on your German vocabulary test. Congratulations, old bean! I knew you could do it, So funny how I once tried to inspire you and then you've gone and inspired me. Good luck on your final exams. Take care of yourself and get plenty of rest. Love, Ian I looked at each photo ten times. He was mostly in some stage of undress, but never completely nude. He was indeed a hairy man, which I guess I'd always kinda figured. A majority of them were taken somewhere tropical - a resort I'd guess. He wasn't quite so thin whenever these shots were taken. I wondered how I'd ever not think of these images all day, every day. In addition to my preparation for finals, I was also handing out condoms and manning the phone at the Help Line. German was going better after I'd taken Ian's advice. I stopped fighting this ugly language and just let it soak in. My trouble now was getting through a book called "Out of Africa". It was just so dry and so boring. Our final was going to be a surprise question which we would have two hours to complete. Themes, symbolism, etc. were all on the table. I'd read it twice and hope for the best. Sweet Man, Happy Christmas, Love! I hope you enjoy the season with your family. It must be a relief to be done with exams. I barely remember 'Out of Africa', but you were quite correct to zero in the underlying themes of mourning and purity. I gather you've got a brain in that skull of yours. Ha. I always knew that. Thank you for all the nice words about my photographs. You made me blush a deep scarlet!! To answer a few of your queries: 1. I am still doing well. There is a new pill I've been given that has a kick to it. We shall see. 2. Yes, I got a flu shot. Because of my condition, I am usually first in line for the vaccine. 3. The photos were taken in Greece a few years ago. 4. I wear a UK size 14 shoe. I believe that would be a 15 in the US. 5. I spend Christmas with my mum. She's a real plum and you'd like her. Alrighty then. I need to hear your voice so badly. Will you call ring me? Remember the time difference and call during your early afternoon. Or later. Or any hour. I'll leave you my home number and also my mum's in case you want to call during Christmas. I would love that so much. I love you, mate!, Ian It was nice to have time off from school. I'd been reading, studying and taking tests for so long. Would it ever end? My mom and dad treated me like a prince while I was home. I'd made the dean's list which surprised all of us. I'd been a very average student in high school. I'd missed sleeping in my old room..with our giant gray cat sleeping on my chest as I read old comic books late into the night. I ate and ate some more during my visit. One of the guys on my AIDS crisis team was spreading the message that gaining weight was important for being healthy. "Get Fat, Stay Alive" was his slogan. I wasn't sure that was the solution, but it wouldn't hurt to look beefy and ruddy while the plague invaded full force that year. "I wish you'd eaten like this when you were a kid," Mom noted. You need some extra pounds. Wish I could donate some of mine." The day before Christmas Eve, I told them I was doing volunteer work and that it involved global health and population control. My dad approved because it would look good to potential employers. Mom was just happy that I was coming out of my shell and being altruistic. Lying was become easier now. "I may get a grant to do outreach in London." "Oh my! Your passport is still in my dresser drawer. Take it with you when you go back next month. It's all up to date." "I may need to call them while I'm here. Can I do it from here?" "Call overseas? Well...." She looked at my dad. "Let's let Brad look in his stocking now." Inside the stocking (which smelled like our attic) was candy, a new Weird Al cassette tape, two twenty dollar bills and three MCI calling cards. So perfect! I couldn't wait to use them! "We switched to MCI a few months ago," Dad informed me. "It's going to kick AT&T's ass eventually which is why I bought some of their stock. You gotta get in early on emerging technology. "Thank you both so much! I am without proper words right now." I'd unknowingly started talking like Ian. "I need to rest now. I'll let you two men stay up and talk...but not too late. We have a big day tomorrow." Mom toddled off to bed while Dad and I sat at the kitchen table. He and I had been through some rough patches when I was a teen. I once went a month without saying a single word to him. "How about we have some eggnog, Son?" I nodded as he fetched two glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniels. No nog. Having a real adult drink with my father?...sure. "You think the Broncos will do anything in the play-offs? I am always a little pessimistic." We had that in common. "I don't know. Dad? I'm sorry I was such a shit when I was in high school." "That's all in the past. You make me proud, always have. It was my fault too. How's your eggnog?" It was just plain whiskey but I was game. It burned my throat and landed like a bomb in my stomach. OK. I guess this what adult men did. "Is it still snowing?" "I guess. I hope it keeps going -- so we don't have to go to midnight mass tomorrow night. I suppose you still don't believe in God? Your mother and I accept that. We will always love you -- no matter what." I had a feeling he'd been nogging already. "I've always known that, Dad." We had a few more drinks before he scooted me off to bed. I slept like a rock. Morning came fast. I smelled breakfast wafting up the stairs. I opened my eyes and saw that snow was still falling outside my window. Nice. Mom knocked on my door and then came right in. "Wake up, Sweetness! The mail came already and there's a Christmas card for you. It's from England! Season's greetings! I managed to find your home address at the library. They have phone books from all over the world. I hope it's okay to mail you there. I am just missing you now and always. I am finishing up some end-of the-year things before heading to Mum's. Do let your mother take plenty of pictures of you...and send me a few. I anticipate a call from you soon. Love, Ian. I was ecstatic. If the weather let up a bit, I'd have the house to myself tonight when everyone went to mass. I was going to call. I was. The day went by uneventfully. My sister was snowed in at the Boston airport and couldn't make it home. I was guiltily happy about that. She was five years older than me and had always been a bitch. I wouldn't miss her. Ever. Mom made a quick run to the grocery store while my dad and I sat in the living room and had more whiskey. "Can I ask you something, Brad?" "Is it what I think you're going to ask?" "Probably. I guess I don't have to bother with the question now, do I? Let's have another snort." "I'm gay and I've been that way since I could form thoughts. I'm not sexually active." "I don't care if you have sex, Son. Your mother and I were fucking before either of us were out of high school...just be careful. Was that card you got from someone special?" "He's very special, but he and I have never met. He..." I ran out of words. Ian. Mom came home with last-minute stuff from the grocery store. "It smells like a bar in here. What have my two boys been up to?" She grinned. Nobody is in a bad mood on Christmas Eve. "Look at the time! We're not having turkey this year. I'm broiling t-bones instead. The roads aren't bad at all -- I've driven in much worse." "So I guess we're going to Mass then? I hope they don't do a live nativity again." "Oh just go watch a sports game on TV while I get dinner going. Take your booze with you." There was some bowl game on. I hadn't paid attention to any sports except for The World Series. I was always studying, volunteering or thinking of Ian. Or else writing him. Dad and I had never bonded over a game on TV. "Oh hell...who cares about The Pringles Bowl or whatever this is? It's all about TV money." The smells of cooking drifted into the living room. Dad and had more sips of whiskey. "We should watch a Christmas movie. You think? I'll find one somewhere." He landed on some made-for-TV movie with a very holiday feel. We ate and it was nice. I had a nice buzz going so I didn't touch the glass of wine Mom had poured. They left for Mass around 10 PM and I went to my room and listened to the Weird Al tape. I had outgrown him, but what the hell...all my good music was back at school. I read a "Reader's Digest" I'd found in the bathroom. Dad usually talked my mom into going somewhere for a drink after the service, and I knew I'd be asleep by the time they got home. I had a dream about swimming in the ocean where all the sea creatures were rising up to the surface and speaking to me with English accents. I don't remember what they said. I snapped awake at 4:10 AM. I'd left the lamp on. I was so clearly awake. Ian and I were both awake on Christmas day. I needed to call him. BADLY. Deep breath. I fished out one of the MCI cards, Ian's phone number, and a photocopy of Ian's photo. "Hello?," a woman answered. "Good morning. May I please speak with Ian? Is he awake?" "I should say so! We've had breakfast already and opened gifts. Are you the American lad he talked about?" "I'm Bradley." "Yes! I was almost ready to say 'Bobby'. I'm a loon." "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Furmedge." "Hush that. I'm Dee. Oh...here he comes. It was nice speaking with you." "Yes? Is this Bradley?" "Merry Christmas, Ian. Thank you for the card." "I'm hardly believing this! You called! You sound exactly as I thought you might. How do I sound?" "Perfect." He laughed, coughed. "It must be quite early there." "Yes. My parents are still sleeping. Ian? It is so good to talk to you, but I'm suddenly at a loss of things to say." "Me too. Let's take about a twenty minute break and think of things to ask each other. Can I ring you back without waking the whole house?" "Yes. I have my own phone in my room. The number is --- --- -----." "Lovely. I will talk to you in a bit." I crept out of my room and went downstairs. The whiskey bottle was still there, next to the remote. That's exactly the kind of inspiration I needed. I took it to my room and sat at my desk.I dug out an old notebook and some pens. Even after a few shots, I couldn't come up with too much. I turned my radio on , hoping to find something besides Christmas music. 105 Hit Radio was doing top 40 business as usual. It didn't help too much. The phone rang. "Hello? Ian?" "I've not much luck, mate. We don't have to put so much pressure on this conversation. I've been meaning to ask you one thing for a while now...how long have you lived with HIV?" OH SHIT! He'd assumed this whole time that we shared the same virus! I needed to think fast. "A little less than a year." "Sorry, Luv. Still in shock, are we? Well -- you're handling it in a very healthy way. Activism is a form of therapy...at least for me it is." "Yes. Exactly." "I've some news that might cheer you up. Remember how I told you I had a photographer friend? He snapped a whole roll of nude pictures of me. I thought they looked quite artful. They're waiting for you back at your university address. I don't even know if it's legal to send such materials overseas, but it's done. I also sent you some literature about this Summer's conference in Boulder. It could be our chance to meet. Think you can come?" "I've already looked into it and checked with my supervisor at Outreach. She's going to fund it. She might go with me, but she's so cool. She's like Cyndi Laupner if she gained about 70 pounds." "You been having some drinks, Bradley?" "Yeah. A few. It's the holidays. Why?" "I can hear grain alcohol in your voice. It's not the best thing for your immune system, but it's allowed from time to time. One more thing... Can we arrange to stay in the same hotel? I'd like to make love to you." I finished a few more quick gulps from the bottle. "I...I think I'd like that so much. I've had a crush on you since I read the magazine article." "I hope it lasts until June." "I guarantee it will." "I should let you go to sleep, Bradley. Have a very Merry Christmas. I love you." CLICK I wondered how in the hell I was supposed to sleep now. I found an old paperback on my bookshelf that I opened and started to reread. "Love"? I'd just told a huge fib to a man who claimed to love me. I was on the spot. If he knew I was HIV-, there'd be no sex. I could not let that chance get away. I dozed off for what seemed like a minute, but daylight had crept into my room when I opened my eyes. Mom just burst into my room without knocking (some things haven't changed) and demanded I get up. "Come see what Santa brought you!" I would never be an adult in her eyes. Not ever. After gifts were opened and a big brunch eaten, we all wiped our brows and felt the relief mixed with melancholy that comes when Christmas is finally over. We lounged around the TV and watched one of those sleepy old movies from the 40's. More fake snow, sappy dialog and at least two covered bridges. Where'd all those structures go? "Supposed to be nice weather this week, but a big Winter storm is moving in on New Year's Day. When do you have to get back?" Dad had a fresh bottle of Wild Turkey that' he'd just opened. "I'm supposed to man a counseling hot line on New Year's Eve. Not many volunteers on campus until January 9th." "You counsel people? You're qualified?" "Yep. I took 20 hours of training, but mainly callers just need somebody to talk to." "Maybe I'll call it sometime." "You can talk now, Pops. Mom went up to take a nap." "Nah. Well... No. I'm fine." I was relieved he didn't start spilling out tearful confessions. We had a few drinks, but I insisted on mixing the alcohol with Pepsi. I was one of the few guys in my dorm who didn't drink or party with any other substance. My mom's father was a major alcoholic and it made me wary of my genetics. I'd just drink with Dad while I was home. I was usually too busy for numbness. The weather forecast did indeed look grim for January 1st. Record cold, record snow, high winds. I left on the 30th because I was eager to get back to the dorm and see if Ian's photos had arrived yet. It's not like I didn't visit home every other week. Mom loaded me up with brownies and other snacks. It was a short drive, but I gave Weird Al's tape another chance. Nope. I'm sure my roommate would appreciate it more than I did. The dorm was desolate and quiet as a tomb. The chubby girl at the front desk welcomed me when I approached to retrieve my mail. She had a Santa hat on that was meant to be whimsical, but mainly just looked retarded. There were two letters from Ian as well as a large manila envelope that I knew was full of photos. I'd save that one for last. Dear Bradley: I guess this will arrive after you've already left for vacation. I just wished to write you since I'm thinking so much about you, us. Am I moving too fast? I feel so good these days and it's all thanks to you. I hope we will talk on the telephone soon. I have a need to be intimate with you. Do you feel the same? I'm not sure how long of a life I'll have, but I intend to do as much as I can with the time left. I bet your finals went well. I'm sure they did. Love, Ian The second piece of mail was a greeting card. The cover was a goofy illustration of a teddy bear with a a heart-shaped patch on his stomach. It looked like something my mom would send. Cheers! I know this is a bit silly, but the little plush toy looks exactly how you make me feel -- warm, happy and a bit chubby. I've gained some weight back since Fall, and can wear my old jeans again without fear of them falling down. My doctor will be pleased. Thank you! I love you! Ian OK. Time to see the photos. Dear God!! He was a tall, furry dream come true. So many nude poses with his big, fat dick in various stages of hardness. Every single thing about him was perfect. I looked at each of them ten or eleven times before putting them back in the envelope and putting them under my bed. It was too late to call Ian now because I knew he'd be asleep. I called the GLSOC office just to see if anyone was there. Dan was. "Hi. It's Brad. I'm back. Need some help?" "Yeah, Bring me something from Arby's -- I'll pay you back. You can come keep me company until Shawna gets here." I had nothing else to do. So I went and took him food. Dan was a good guy, but a tad too intense at times...and so political. Conversations with him could wear me out. I stayed and listened to his chatter for awhile before finally leaving. My roommate came back a few says later and then classes were soon underway. It was work as usual, but this time I was more disciplined, more focused. Time flew by. Shawna had made all the arrangements for the conference. "Dan doesn't want to go, so you'll have a room to yourself. We both will. I'll print out an itinerary for you soon. I assume Ian already has arrangements since he's one of the speakers." She watched me carefully. "You fancy him, don't you?" "I admire him, Shawna. He inspired me to join the cause." "Whatever you say, Brad. Just remember what we're trying to do here." It was an insanely beautiful Spring...not that I had a whole lot of time to appreciate it. Finals were looming and I was more than prepared. I called Ian a few more times and told him how much I was looking forward to meeting him in person. It was often early in the morning when I reached him, and he usually made the comment he still had his 'A.M. stiffy' and would I mind if he whacked off while we chatted. I never minded but explained my living situation and how the roommate could barge in at any time. "Just talk to me...." I talked about how beautiful his dick was and much I wanted to feel it and taste it. It never took him long to grunt and finish. "My loads are huge these days. Perhaps there's more to Eastern medicine than I thought." "I can't to see that in person. Did you get a copy of my itinerary?" "I did. Thank you. Can you fetch me from the airport?" "Of course! There's no sense in you renting a car since it's so close to the hotel." "Thanks, mate. I can use that part of the budget to take us out for a nice dinner." I couldn't wait for June 10th to get here...and then it was here! Shawna and I took separate cars since I was going to the airport first. "I'm in room 762. Come find me when you get there. I want to meet Ian...if the two of you aren't too 'occupied'." She knew, somehow. The airport was fairly new and heavily subsidized by companies that had laid claim to all the restaurants, bars and shops. It was, however, easy to navigate and I got to Ian's gate an hour early. Those were the days when you could just walk right in with no security checks. I had a Stephen King paperback and plenty of time to calm my nerves and read. His flight arrived early and I stood up from my chair. I'm pretty sure I'd lost the ability to breath or blink. There He was! I was caught off-guard by the fact that he was walking with a cane. Eh -- who knows when and how things could flare up with AIDS? He saw me and smiled brightly. I couldn't help but run up and hug him. "Welcome!" "You should have seen your face -- it was like a beacon! A bright and shining beacon!" Our embrace lasted a long time because neither of us wanted it to end. "Let's get your bags...it's this way." "My doctor advised me to bring the cane because the altitude here is so high. Tall blokes like me could pass out very easily in environments like this. I've even brought little cans of oxygen, the same kind climbers use on Everest." The drive was short and scenic.I kept asking him if he could breathe okay and he finally demanded I stop the queries. "I'm fine, Bradley. Just being with you makes me stronger. It's so beautiful here. How do you get anything done without being distracted by all of this?" "You can look at the mountains from my parents' backyard. I used to stay out at night and try to watch for UFOs." We arrived at The Embassy Suites and parked. I carried both our bags to the lobby. I insisted Ian check in first so he could then sit down a bit. He had a giant suite on the top floor while my more modest room was on 5. "Let me rest for a bit and then I'll come get you. 501? Yes. It's been a long trip." He was helped with his bags from somebody on staff. I was too wired to sleep or even read my book. I'd just go see if Shawna was here yet. "Brad! Good to see you! Isn't this place nice? Why is your face all red?" "I'm out of shape and had to carry all my own bags." "Uh huh. Is Ian here?" "Yep. He's taking a nap now." "Let's hit the mini-bar. It's nice to have an expense account...I feel like I'm important." We each had a little bottle of vodka and relaxed. "What time did you get here?" "11 this morning. I wanted to get in as much time to prepare for tomorrow as I could. I'm not a main speaker, but I'm doing some of the introductions. I've gone over my notes a million times...and I still need to find the correct pronunciation of some of these names...especially the African ones." "You'll do great. You have a way of taking over a room and owning it." "Aren't you a doll. Want another drink? You can have anything but the wine...I'm saving that in case I meet some nice lady who likes chubby girls. My hopes aren't real high because it's almost all men here. Cute ones too. There's another vodka in there, but I think it's citrus-flavored. You mind that?" We drank a little more and watched a baseball game. I wondered if Ian was awake by now. I'd head back to my room and wait. The phone was ringing as I unlocked the door. "Hello?" "I had a wonderful rest, but now I'm famished. Care for an early dinner?" "Sure. Want to meet in my room, your room or down at the bar?" "I'm not dressed. Give me about thirty minutes to shower and get ready. OK? I'll meet you at the pub." "Sure." I'd just had a shower four or five hours ago, so I picked out something to change into. My clothes were mostly boring, but I'd upped my fashion game a little in anticipation of the conference...and Ian. I was ready in fifteen minutes. I went down to the restaurant and sat at the bar. It was too early for dinner so the place was deserted. The bartender was a young ginger guy who looked too young to serve alcohol. And yet he carded me. I wasn't old enough to buy a well drink so I just got a beer. I'd barely finished it when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Ian! "Looks like we had the same idea. I thought I'd get here first and have a drink while waiting. I never drink, but I am letting go on this trip. Even had a scotch or two on the flight." "You look great!" "As do you, mate. You look good in that color, and not many men are complimented by green." "it's only 5. I don't think they're seating people for dinner yet. Are you still hungry?" "Near starvation." "Well...we can get an appetizer and eat here." The bar menu was a complete mystery to Ian. "What on Earth are 'Loaded Potato Skins'?" "It's like pieces of baked potato with all kinds of stuff on top...cheese, bacon, green onions and sour cream." He looked doubtful. "Sounds very American. Let's get that!" We ordered and the bartender brought us another round of drinks. "It's probably going to be good. This is a four-star restaurant." "So tell me things, Bradley. Do you still believe in UFOs? I was a little tyke when we lived in New Mexico, and I remember so many tourists coming to look for aliens." "I pretty much don't believe in anything any more." "What about love?" "Yes. Because that is a real thing." We clinked our drinks. His smile was so beautiful. Our appetizer arrived and it was way too much food. Luckily, Ian loved them. For such a thin guy, he ate fast. "A bit salty, but I like it." I had exactly two of them before deciding I was too stuffed to eat a full dinner. "Yummy. Want another plate?" "No. I'm full." "Yeah. Me too. Why don't we sit here for a while and charm the barkeep. See which of us he fancies more." Well of course it would be him. It was. He sweet-talked the boy into serving me scotch as well. It was not unlike the whiskey Dad and I had shared. "We need to have a proper meal here sometime. It's kind of famous in the area. Hey - where's your cane?" "Left it in the room. I guess you'll have to let me lean on you if I get dizzy on the way back." "Can't wait." "Can't you now? One more drink and we'll go." As promised, Ian wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we got on the elevator. It was a long trip to the 10th floor and we locked lips the whole ride. He was an expert kisser and I never wanted to stop. Ding. We were here. His suite was very, very nice. All I'd ever wanted was about to happen. He shucked off his comically-long loafers and invited me to sit. He pulled out a can of compressed oxygen and inhaled. "Feeling light-headed?" "You could say that. Shed your clothes, Bradley. Relax and turn on the telly if you want." I got completely nude and couldn't help but notice how pale my body was. Ian stripped down and stood quietly, letting me look at whatever I wanted to. He had a full hard-on. I wanted to taste it, lick it. He read my mind and let it jut out inches from my face. No words were spoken as I took the pointy tool in my lips and savored the flavors. I always knew I'd do this one day. The sucking part was more of a challenge...I choked a little as it went over my tongue and aimed for my throat. "Well done, Luv. Lie back and let me suck you for a bit." I hadn't counted on that part. The fantasies had always involved my mouth and a penis. It would be exciting. My penis was not as large as his, but I was not ashamed of it. Oh my GOD! It felt perfect! His lips were amazingly expert and the fur on his beard tickled my balls in a delicious way. I sure as hell didn't want to ejaculate yet. "Stop! It feels just way too good." He pulled away while looking at me with dark, glistening eyes. He moved closer and hoisted my ankles over his shoulders. I felt one of his fingers poke in my anus. It was surprising and painful. "Oh no! I've been had! You're a fucking virgin who's never had a dick before! You're not even positive, right? What is wrong with you, Bradley? ??!" "It's not...I'm not...I'm..." He got up off the bed and opened his bag. He inhaled some more oxygen and then found a tube of something. "My fault, really. I somehow knew all this already. Why didn't you just come right out and ask me to convert you?" "It...it got too late. Don't blame me for falling in love with you!" That seemed to have taken the heat out of his anger. "Yes. I get that. But still.... There's good and bad news, mate. The good news is that you're going to get what you want. The bad news is that I can't trust you ever again. Without trust there can't be love." He looked sad but his hard-on bobbed and danced. "I understand, Ian. I'm sorry." He grimly oiled up his pecker and collapsed on top of me. He returned us to that same position as before as he rubbed some of that cream stuff on my hole. He was not even trying to be gentle with his fingers this time. I bit my lip. I deserved the discomfort. He wouldn't look directly in my eyes. I was getting so much and yet almost nothing of what I wanted. Maybe all sex was like that. He replaced his greasy fingers with his unsheathed penis. He pushed in urgently and completely ignored cries of pain that I couldn't help but let out. "Not now. Keep your mouth shut or I'll stop." I weighed that option for a few excruciating seconds. He'd obviously not lost any of his angry momentum. He pumped until the full length and width of him was deep inside of me. I wondered if I'd ever agree to go through with sex again. Ian was sweating and groaning and pumping with a frenzy. I felt like one big wound that was being violated over and over. At one critical point, the crashing waves of pain gave way to throbs of pleasure. I held his shoulders and he allowed that. His eyes were squeezed shut. He must have been getting close because his breathing was ragged and desperate. "Oh, Ian! This is...Oh!" I came. He'd driven the semen out of me. "HERE!!". He let out a volley oh his toxic seed deep within me. It was over. Was it worth it? It was. I'd answer the same even now. I met Shawna the next morning for breakfast. I had not slept but for a few minutes here and there. "You look like Hell, Brad! Did you and Ian have too much fun last night?" "No. I just had too much to drink." "You? I'm surprised. Well, I had a lovely time with Unia. She's a strikingly beautiful woman from Nigeria. Speaks four languages! We took a long stroll after dinner. She's speaking right after Ian Furmedge today." Just hearing his name gave me a sharp chest pain. "What's wrong? If I didn't know better... Oh no. Your heart is broken, isn't it? Shit. Let's get you a Bloody Mary and some food." Tears fell from my eyes despite my efforts to hold them in. "I'm just an idiot." The Bloody Marys arrived and the spicy cocktail did indeed make me feel better. I picked at the Eggs Benedict. Shawna ordered us more cocktails. I felt better about half way through the second glass. "Eat the celery at least. Want to hear the introduction I'm giving Ian?" I shook my head as the tears threatened to come flooding back. "OK. Why don't you just take the day off? You can start fresh tomorrow and take notes...and Brad?" "Yes?" "This too shall pass." Of course it would. It was a life lesson in the most extreme way. She ordered us each two more Bloody Marys and let me drink most of hers. I was going to be so dehydrated later. "You can stay here as long as you want, but I've got to get the hall now. This is all being charged to my room so order whatever you want." "No. I'm done. I'll ride up with you." Back in my room, I stretched out on the bed and read the collection of Stephen King's short stories. Most of them were quite good. Despite the addictive power of his words, I fell asleep and napped most of the day. No dreams. I raided my own mini-bar for a Snickers bar and a bag of pistachios. No way was I leaving the room. I watched "Sixteen Candles" on the TV and thought about my future. I'd have to get tested eventually and enter some kind of treatment. Fuck it. I'd go down to restaurant and eat a cheeseburger or something. As I put my shoes on, there was a knock on my door. It was Ian. "I'm sorry, Bradley. I treated you awful." "Come in. I deceived you and it was the worst mistake of my life." "You didn't come to my talk. I scanned the crowd, hoping to find you. Once I realized you weren't there, I hurried my speech and left out half of what I wanted to say. I talked to Shawna. She's a character alright! She wanted to know what I'd done to make you upset. What did you say?" "I told her nothing. She just saw it in my face. She's some kind of psychic or a witch or something." "Can we talk?" "Sure, have a seat. Can I get you something?" "I'm fine." He sat on the edge of my rumpled bed and let out a long sigh. "Do you accept my apology for being so nasty? I didn't mean to be." "Of course. I deserved it." "Nobody should ever be talked to that way." He took off his big gym shoes, peeled up the inner pad and produced a joint. "Fancy a spliff?" I couldn't believe he'd brought that on the plane with him. "How did you..." "These sneaks smell so rank, I knew none of those dogs would ever sniff it out." "I was about to head down to get some food. Want to come with me?" "I've a better idea. Let's smoke this and order room service. What are you watching?" I could smell his discarded shoes. "It's almost over." "Come lie down next to me." I did. He was so gorgeously long. Things were looking up. He used a book of paper matches to light the weed. I only knew about smoking from a Cheech and Chong movie I'd seen...and from watching my roommate. "It's not all that strong, but very soothing to the nerves. I had shingles last year and it blunted the pain nicely." "I'm sorry I wasn't there to see your speech, Ian." He passed me the joint. The fragrance was strong and pleasant. It was obviously better quality than the homegrown shit I'd smelled before. I inhaled and held it in. "I still love you, Bradley. I have to now because you're carrying my child." I suppose that was a nice way of putting it. This guy... "Oh look. The 'Amityville Horror' is on. Have you seen it?" "I don't think so. Hungry yet? You will be soon." We watched our clouds drift toward the ceiling. I started talking about the movie and the book, about how terrified I was. I talked about reading the book while staying home from school with strep throat. The pot made me so talkative. "I'll ring room service. Get some more of those potato skins up here. Tomorrow night we'll go out for a nice dinner." "Sounds good to me." We finished the weed and soaked up contented silence. After the potato skins were consumed, I might have dozed for a minute or two. I was awakened by Ian straddling my face with his enormous cock aiming for open lips. "Shh. You're still dreaming, mate." It was the greatest waking dream I'd ever had. I ultimately swallowed his thick, salty load. He indulged me with all sorts of 'first times' over the next three days. I liked everything except eating ass, but Ian assured me I'd come to love it eventually. OK. We had our proper dinner with Shawna and her new woman. It was a lovely evening and made me feel so lucky to be alive. I was harboring a deadly virus now, but feeling more immortal than I ever had before. When I drove Ian back to the airport, he came right out and asked me if I was going to write about us. "You've no doubt got the best story of anyone who attended." "No. I wouldn't compromise either of us like that. I have two hundred pages of notes to go through -- that's not including the taped interviews you arranged for me. You and I are off the record." We hugged a long time at the airport with promises to see each other again soon. Each of us exchanged several 'I love you's. And then he was gone. For now. I spent the Summer researching and writing. Shawna went back home to Wyoming, but we kept in constant contact. I sent her rough drafts of everything I'd written and she was very encouraging. I ended up splitting the rent on a small apartment with Dan. He was the best and worst possible roommate, but at least he had no problem with brutal honesty. He listened without judgement as I recounted my Boulder experience. Ultimately, my writing was published in widely-read journal put out by The World Health Organization. My interview with AIDS researcher Donald St. Pierre was published by the school newspaper. Shawna had arranged a really hefty grant to study in England and keep writing reports. I left for the UK that October and never came back.

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

I wish I could say I was shocked. It was all coming together for me now. The Biohazard Bus was real and I'd practically bought a ticket by missing clues. The free drinks, the CB radios, the careful scrutiny, the 'accidental' strobe light. I was caught off guard by Nick's betrayal but even that was exactly what the old guy had warned me about...giving your trust too freely. I'd have to deal with my carelessness now, take my medicine. Nick pulled me into the huge, black SUV. The dome light was covered with some black plastic of some kind. I think it was a trash bag. "You coming with us, Nick? Don't you have to work?" The voice asking belonged to the guy sitting next to me. At first I thought he was naked, but was wearing a jockstrap. "No. I need to come along this time. This is Jeff." A few of the passengers mumbled "Hi", but I couldn't see what they looked like because there was almost no light. I could tell I was in the second row of seats between Nick and the jockstrap guy. My best guess is that there at least four others. "Is he legal?," asked the driver. "Yup. I got a hold of his wallet at the bar and checked his driver's license. But get this -- he came looking for us. He wanted to see if it was real or a myth." "A volunteer? That's a first. I don't know how Marco is gonna like that. Did you slip something into his drink?" "Didn't have to. He drank a lot and then succumbed to my charms." "Yeah right. There's not that much booze in the world." I'll skip the remainder of the short ride except to say that I was bizarrely not panicked. I didn't once think to yell or struggle. Also, Nick had his arm around my shoulders again, but I was no longer stupid or drunk enough to think this was real affection -- he was keeping me under control and that was all. We ended up in a glaringly bright garage...like the professional kind, not residential. Weirdly, I first noticed how clean the concrete floor was. No dirt and no grease spots. Mentally, I was either in shock or denial or possibly I was excited. Probably a combination. I got a good look at my six captors. The jockstrap guy was about 50 - 55. average height, very skinny except for a beer gut, no body hair and assorted tattoos -- including one identical to the 'BB' tat on Nick's wrist. 'Biohazard Bus'. That had to be it. Jockstrap guy was also massaging his crotch into a full boner that was visible beneath the filthy jock. He seemed to be the leader. "Fuck! Nobody blindfolded him??! He can see us! Nick?" "It's okay, dude. I get the feeling that he's cool with all this. If not, I'll take care of it. Just don't film this time." "Fuck you. Just because you're bigger than me doesn't mean you're in charge...I'll taze you. Marco will expect to see something." "Well, fuckin' call him down here and he can watch for himself." Nick moved closer to me. "I don't know. He's been in bad shape lately." "I'll call him," a tall black guy around my age said. He had a great body that was a marred with long scars on his chest and stomach. Jockstrap leader seemed doubtful. "This is not how we do it, Nick. You better be right about this or you'll be in the kind of trouble there aren't words for." The other three guys ranged in ages from 30 to 60. One was white and other two were mixed. None of them were gorgeous but they weren't awful either. They were stripping down, leaving on their socks for some reason. A range of hard-ons bobbed up and down as if there was a breeze in here. The black guy came back from wherever and said "He's coming. He sounded almost normal. Almost. Dude's head is all wrong. Hope I die before that dementia shit kicks in." "You probably will. Go get the mattress, Sal." Sal walked over to the wall and drug over a red air mattress and plopped it on the floor. "Good job. Get his clothes off so I can breed his cute little ass." Nick - who was still clothed - stepped me and Jock. "I get him first, Pete." "Don't use my name, goddammit! You're pushing it now. Why do you think you get to go before me?" "I may have the virus, but I don't have all the other bugs you guys do. I don't want to catch your shit." Pete paused, considered. "Well...I guess you got a point. We need you to stay healthy as long as possible so you can find us more fresh ass." Nick looked down at me. "It'll be okay. Get your clothes off." I did without really thinking too much about what was about to happen. I was naked, but I didn't have an erection...until I saw Nick get naked. He had a dick that was a work of art. It was big but looked below average compared to his giant frame. He had a nice line of hair that went from between his nipples and went straight down to his pubes. I popped a boner instantly. "Whoa! That's a nice boy dick! I think he's in love with you, Nick," Sal said in a teasing voice. "I know he is." He gave me a smile and a wink. Pete cursed a little as I went down on the mattress with Nicks mass of flesh covering me. We were kissing again. Deeply, roughly. His facial stubble was wearing my lips raw. He whispered in my ear with that delicious deep voice: "I will be as easy as possible. You've never done any of this, have you?" I answered with my eyes. I didn't know what sex felt like. If it felt as good as masturbation did then I didn't see the problem. God, to be that stupid again. "Get on your hands and knees...it's easier that way." He was still whispering but then shouted out "Get me the lube somebody!" Sal or one of the others brought him a king-size tub of Vaseline. I got on all fours, but looked over my shoulder to watch him rub down his super hard dick with the jelly. I could do this...I knew I could. I wanted it. It wasn't until he stuck a greasy finger up my ass that I thought twice. It hurt in an unreal way. I grunted. "Try to relax a little, Jeff. Push your ass out like you're farting." He put another thick finger inside me. I tried to relax, but tell me -- how in the world does one TRY to relax? Pete got impatient. "Marco wants to see rape, Nick. Not a fucking Falcon video. Just cum in him and let us have our turn." I hated that guy. "He's a virgin, you asshole! If I don't ease him into this you guys will have to fuck a corpse!" "Wouldn't be the first time." I knew Nick was on thin ice with these thugs. "Go ahead, Nick. Cum in me." Some hoots and hollers erupted from the small group. I was thrilled with the whole scene now. ..or at least I was before Nick's fat cock head went inside of me. DAMN! I was sure I was going to die. I yelled "NO!" "Ain't nobody can hear you, kid. We really should have taped this." I don't know who said that. I didn't learn any other names. Nick was as gentle and slow as he could be without pissing off the BB crowd. It felt horrible, like my guts were being stabbed. I just decided to ride it out. There was an identical tub of Vaseline in the bathroom of the house I grew up in. I used it for the frequent chapped lips I had back then. I always wondered why we had such a big thing of it if that's the only thing it was for. I pictured all the other things about my childhood bathroom, anything to take my mind off the pain. Only now it wasn't so terrible. He had the length of his shaft all the way inside of me, but still being gentle. "Lift his head up a little so he can suck me." Ugh. That Pete guy. Okay...how bad could it be compared to what was going on down below? As Nick sped up the pace of his fucking, A dick was suddenly pushing between my lips. It was fairly large, but not in a bizarre way. "Do a good job or I'll break your neck." I found it hot. A man's private organ was in my private mouth. I just sucked as much of it as I could and that seemed to satisfy Pete. I was more focused on the dick that was deep inside my body. It was exquisite somehow, the sudden throb of pleasure from within. "Shit. I'm gonna fuckin' cum now, Jeff. I'm so sorry." My nerve endings didn't feel Nick's sperm shoot but my mind did. My soul did. You'd think that climax would have liberated me of my own load. It didn't. I was so empty when he pulled out and sighed. I regret that he and I were done, but I concentrated on sucking the dick snaking its way toward my throat. Turns out I was a natural cocksucker. No gagging, no gasping. I don't think Pete was expecting that. His breath quickened and he grabbed the sides of my head. "No. Not..now... I..." He shot his goo in my mouth. I swallowed. "No way is this guy a virgin. He's done stuff." The black guy (Sal) said, "Just look at all the blood, man. Look...it's all over the place. Nick's cock is as red as a stoplight. He gets two minutes to recover and then I'm going to fuck that shit." A bottle of beer to hydrate. I caught my breath and looked at the other dicks around me. Sure -- I could handle whatever they wanted to do. I was also still hard. I didn't once consider disease or my fate, I just lied down on my back. It's exhausting to get everything you ever wanted. I may have closed my eyes for a second. "You want it like that? I like it." Sal was standing over me with his long black wand hovering and bobbing. I wondered if those scars came from knife wounds...from prison maybe. He dropped to his knees and stared into my eyes. "I'd eat your ass, but it's a mess." "I understand." I didn't feel the bleeding. He lifted my legs up over his shoulders. It may sound odd but I was ready to be fucked again....ready to be full of cock once more. Sal was all too happy to do to do just. His tool was thinner than Nick's, but there was still a quick jab of pain when I was entered again. "Shit! He's still tight as fuck...even after all that." His breath was a little rank as he exhaled heavily. "It's secondhand, but it's so nice in there." His two fleshy lips pressed down onto mine. It wasn't the slightest bit romantic, but I found it sexy nonetheless. My hands wandered up his back and felt more scar tissue back there. I wandered if he'd been in a gang. My ass was making wet sounds as he just plowed in and out like a farm animal in heat. I winced and sucked in air between my clenched teeth. "Get your damn bald head out of the way, Sal. I want to sit on his face." I don't know who said that, but I soon found a heavy,hairy ass covering my nose and mouth. There was no poo smell--which I'd assumed there would be. I knew I had to work up the desire to lick and kiss the hole forcing it's way down. So much of what I was doing now seemed natural...as if I were getting instructions from an unknown part of my brain. Moans and cuss words came from both guys. I think they were close to climaxing when a loud 'slam' sound came from somewhere. "WHAT'S THIS?? I told you to wait for me!" Both dick and ass left me in an instant. Nick walked over and lifted me up by my shoulders. "Just stand, Jeff. Can you? Be calm." I was feeling okay until I looked down and saw that my socks were completely soaked with red blood. I was standing in a puddle of it. No way could all of this had come from me. "Marco is here. I'm so sorry."

(names have been changed) 1985 Who knows how urban legends get started? In the little Nebraska town (which could hardly be called 'urban') I grew up in, there was a story about an evil green skeleton that lived in the creek next to our grade school. He's grab you if you got too close to the water and then drown you. The origins and details kept changing over the years and supposedly, somebody had an actual picture of it. Our playground came right up to the chain link fence that kept us away from the creek. The boys made a game of who could get closest to fence. I once made it within two feet of it before running back. Our bravest, most toughest kid went all the way up and actually touched the fence! We couldn't hardly believe it. Years later, I spent the night at Kenny Grossmon's house and we snuck out at night and went to creek. Kenny had brought a flashlight and a little bottle of water he got from the bathroom at the Nazarene church. It sort of was like holy water as far as we were concerned. There were wild weeds and scrub trees surrounding the creek. We were both acting and talking casual, but we were both scared. We made it close enough to hear the water before a branch or something snapped and the sound made us run all the way back to his house where we watched Elvira and didn't talk about what we'd done. 1995 So I'm in my early 20's now and living in a big city, far away from the green skeleton. I work in a warehouse for a chemical company. I'd majored in English, but this job paid way more than anything I could make teaching. I wrote embarrassingly bad poetry sometimes, but never had dreams of showing it anybody or ever being published. I'd found my way into the gay world -- mainly from going to bars and meeting guys in my neighborhood. I'd even had dates here and there, but never any sex. AIDS showed no signs of ever going away or even being treated effectively. I didn't trust condoms because they could break. I once bought a box of them and played with them. They were just so fragile. It was from a friend of mine that I first heard about 'The Biohazard Bus'. Another urban legend that kept changing and was the subject of many bar conversations. Supposedly, there was a bus full of HIV+ men who would drive around the streets at night and capture guys right off the sidewalk. They'd all take turns raping the victim with no condoms on. It sounded so fake. I mean -- a whole bus?? How did they ever not get caught? The details were sketchy and ever changing. No, it was a van. No, it was an SUV. No, it was a stretch limo. The green skeleton sounded more legit than this bus. I finally got connected to the internet which provided me with a whole new way to waste my time. It was so primitive in those days, but I found a local bulletin board for gays and lesbians. It was mostly about community events, parades and charity stuff. There was one headline about the Biohazard Bus with 398 posts. I went right to the last few to see if there were any new developments. It was then that I realized I was maybe a little too curious about this. Keno: I know a guy who got abducted by them. He was coming out of Chuckie's by himself. Cub31: That is a shit bar. It's on Highland Street which is where many bad things can happen to you. People get shot. Keno: Only walk out of any bar with somebody else with you. I had never heard of the bar they were talking about. Or Highland Street. Why oh why was so drawn to this story? Danger and sex are an intriguing combo, I guess. There was a part of myself I was denying at that point. I will tell you that I was pretty sure I'd end up at Chuckie's eventually. I just had to find it. I started by searching the yellow pages for any businesses on Highland Street. There wasn't anything listed. I asked around. My seedy neighbor -who I'm almost sure was a drug dealer - knew where it was. "That area is pretty dicey. Your car will get stolen." He gave me some general directions. Back then, our city's downtown had been decimated by the suburbs and malls. I didn't even know if the streetlights worked there. My heart sped up at the thought of driving there. I decided I'd try and go to Chuckie's during the daytime. A Saturday afternoon, possibly. Was noon too early? I didn't know much about anything back then. It was a sunny June afternoon (around 2 PM) that I ventured out. I kept forgetting to breathe. You'd think alarms would flash in my brain or something...or that common sense would kick in. Nope. I passed the little bar called Chuckie's. twice. I couldn't do this. Maybe if I knew judo or something, I'd feel safer. This place was scary enough in the day...what the hell would it be like at night?? At least I knew where it was now. Fuck it. I parked right around the corner from the bar. "I'll have one beer and then go home," I told the scared,pale boy looking back at me in the rear view mirror. I can't even remember how I made it to the front door. I was technically sober, but nerves made me sort of stumble a little. A beer would be so good now. I'd earned it. Chuckie's was super dark and smoky. Not very crowded at all. The bartender was a jolly-looking guy in his late 40's/early 50's. "Hi! You here for the bust?" The bust? Did he think I was a cop or something? "The bust?" "Beer bust. For ten dollars you get a cup and all the beer you can drink. How old are you?" "24." "I'll believe you. I'll give you a discount...7.50. You get a free shot at the top of every hour -- which you just missed. I'll start you out with a freebie. It's nice to see a new face in here." I handed him a ten and got my mini cup of beer and complimentary shot. I was new at drinking, but I knew you did the shot first and followed it with a chug beer. Right? OK. I relaxed a little. There was a Chuckie doll up against the mirror behind the bartender. My guess is that this place had been named before the 'Child's Play' movie came out, but they just went with it. To this day I still don't know how to 'fit in' and strike up conversations with people. I stayed put on the bar stool that had been mended with duck tape. I heard the familiar sound of a pinball game in the corner but it was next to a table of scary-looking guys. "How come I never seen you before?" "I don't get out all that much. I needed to buy tires, but I got lost trying to find the place. I stopped here." Lie after lie poured out of my mouth. The truth was too sick. "No tire places around here. I'm Leslie, by the way. I've been here for years." "I'm Jeff. I moved here three months ago. It's not that busy today." "It'll pick up. Most beer busts take place on Sundays, but we changed ours to Saturday. The guy who owns this place is a mafia son with a coke habit...he wants to start making more money. Plus...." I waited. "Plus this area is the subject of many rumors." A-ha! He knew about the urban legend. I played dumb. "Rumors?" "Oh, nothing. You know how queens love to gossip." Leslie and I talked for a while as he kept refilling my cup and sneaking me extra shots. I began losing track of how many I'd had. I'd need to leave while the sun was still out. "Well...it's getting late, Leslie. I should go." "What? It's only 5:30. You got a hot date or something?" "Nah. I just don't know the area very well and want to leave while it's still daytime. Plus -- I think I'm a little buzzed." "The sun will be out for at least another two hours. We can always call you a cab...or have our bouncer escort you to your car." There was no bouncer among these guys. "His name is Nick and he's a huge guy. Nothing will happen to you." Fine. I just needed to slow down with the beer. "Does that pinball game work?" "Yep. It's brand new. Need quarters?" We made the exchange of bills for coins and he refilled my cup. I'd played this particular machine before. It was making the rounds, I guess. The beer was giving me stomach acid. I should have asked for a coke. In a minute. I played a dollar's worth of quarters and racked up the top three scores. I didn't want to sit down so much as I didn't want to stand anymore. I turned to leave and saw Leslie talking into what I thought was a CB radio. No way. Here? He caught my eye for a quick second and put the microphone thingy down. How weird. I walked about two steps before somebody grabbed my belt loop in the back. It was one of the scary guys I'd seen earlier. He had a Village People-type outfit on and was maybe in his 60's. "Have a seat." I didn't get a danger vibe from him. "I'm Butcher." "Nice to meet you. I'm Jeff." "Already heard that. You've been talked about since you came in." Was that good? Bad? "I...I guess I'm just new is all." "You need another beer, Jeff. So do I." He held up two fingers and Leslie scrambled right over with a pitcher to refill us. "Thanks, Leslie. I'm giving the game a rest now." "Well don't pay too much attention to this old drunk. He talks nonsense. Right, Butcher? You're full of shit, aren't you?" "Get away from us." Butcher had a seriously-lined face that you usually only see on old farmers who've worked out in the sun their whole lives. "You don't like him?" He made a spitting gesture. "Not at all. Let me ask you something....do you have a best friend?" I kinda didn't anymore. The best friend I'd ever had was Kenny Grossmon who'd moved away my sophomore year of high school. I never knew what became of him. I was about to tell him about Kenny but he continued talking. "You can't ever trust people. Not even best friends. You die when you trust too much." Top of the hour...it was 7 PM already. Leslie brought us shots and refills while he watched me carefully. "I haven't really trusted too many people in my life. My mom, maybe. I grew up in a small town." He nodded, probably wondering if I was a hick too dumb to talk to. "I got a lot of foreskin on my dick. I can fit a whole pool ball in ii." OK. I needed to excuse myself now. This old guy was no Yoda...just a cryptic drunk. "No, really. I live in the hotel down the street and you could come with me." "Maybe next time. I gotta go now." I forgot my cup and hurried back up to the bar. Leslie had been watching. "I'm glad you're back, Jeff. Did Butcher try to do something? Nick is finally here and he can get him out of here for you." "No. He was just getting too drunk, talking all weird." "Did he say anything about me?" "Not really. He doesn't like you too much. Why?" "You know why? He believes some conspiracy shit and lives in the land of make believe. I can't believe his liver hasn't given out yet. He'll pass out before 9." "Is that why you have a CB radio here? To call cabs for guys like him?" He paused a second. "Yeah. Or cops. Or a security company we use sometimes." "Makes sense. So this place is dangerous?" "Not so much...what did he tell you?" "He was vague." I wasn't about to repeat his foreskin story. "It's the top of the hour! Let's do a shot and I'll introduce you to the bouncer." I swiveled around to look at the front door. The incredibly huge guy was talking on a CB as well. So weird. I also noticed it was after dark now. Shit. At least this Nick due was as big as the Incredible Hulk. I could make it back to my car -- if it was still there. "The shot was something different this time...sharp cinnamon-flavored jet fuel. It woke me up a little. "Can I ask you something, Leslie?" He'd given me a fresh cup of beer. "Sure." "I've heard stories about this place, this street. Is there really a bus full of HIV guys who abduct people off the street and rape them?" "Butcher told you about that, didn't he? That story has been around for years and it's completely false. Why? Did you come here to find that out for yourself?" "No. I mean... sort of. I have a fascination with morbid urban legends. And...." "Say no more. I get it. I live nearby and walk home every night...by myself. I can tell you it's not true. I've seen drunk bums, drugged-out zombie kids, and runaways. But no evil AIDS bus. Ah -- here's Nick. The giant dude came and sat down next to me. He was large, but not all that muscular. He was wearing a tight t-shirt that just said 'SECURITY' on the front. He cast a shadow over everything he was near. "Is this him? Is this Jeff?" His voice was scary deep. He shook my hand. His own hands were the size of catcher's mitts. How was I known so soon? It's not like I'd talked to everybody or made a spectacle of myself. "Good to meet you, Nick." He and Leslie exchanged looks, and I swear there was a secret between them. "Yeah. We were just talking about the myths surrounding this place. He's heard about the bio bus." More looks. "Not that shit again. No wonder we're losing money. If Mario wants to turn a profit here, he needs to quash that shit." I could listen to that sexy voice all night. "Gimme a shot. Leslie. That scummy Dave guy kissed me on the mouth and I need to wash the taste away." We all had another shot. I guess these were my friends now. "Jeff here is interested in urban legends." "Oh...like the hook hanging from the car door? Stuff like that?" "Yeah. What purpose do they serve? How did they start?" I told them about the green skeleton we'd all been afraid of as kids. I was talking too much. I needed to sober up in the worst way. "I think the more important question is why do you go looking for them?" This Nick guy was so astute for a bouncer. "I'm curious. And this bus story got inside my head." There was more to it, but I was done talking about it. I noticed Nick's arm tattoos. He'd paid good money for them because they were well done and sharp. The one on his thick wrist was beautiful calligraphy. 'B B'. The bar had thinned out and we were pretty much just a group of three. Butcher had left at some point. "Time for shots! It's only 10 on a Saturday night and we're empty." Ten?? I'd been here far too long. Oh fuck it. I'd take a cab. We drank our shots. Nick kept getting closer to me and finally wrapped a big arm around my shoulders. "He's mine, Les. I'm sorry, but you've got a boy of your own somewhere, right?" Their conversation sounded like noise at this point. I was drunk but felt so warm and safe with Nick. "Call him a cab, Les. I'll walk him out." Yeah. It was probably time to go home. Leslie turned and made a 'call' or whatever you call it in CB language. I wanted to hear in case he started using that trucker language like they did on TV shows. He had stretched the cord and was talking too softly for me to listen in. He came back with a worried look. "He says it'll take 45 minutes." Okay. Whatever. I'd stop drinking and just go play some more pinball. As much as I liked Nick, there was no way I could picture myself dating him. It would look weird going out with some giant tattooed guy. People would talk. They'd assume things. I stood up from the stool and checked my front pocket for quarters. "Whoa, Hot Rod...where do you think you're going?" He had his hand on my shoulder. "I need to sober up a little. Thought I'd go splash some water on my face and play a little pinball." He and Leslie looked at each other. "Well...OK. Two games or ten minutes...whichever comes first. I'll bring you a coke or something. Deal?" "Sure." The bathroom wasn't nearly as bad as you'd think. It smelled a little like piss, but it seemed mostly clean. I rinsed my face and that didn't seem to help much. Right above the mirror, someone had scrawled "BEWARE" in marker. I just now remembered that detail. I left and went right to my machine. "You're time starts now!" Nick shouted from the bar. Why? What was the big deal? I was a paying customer after all. I mean, what the fuck? I guess my motor skills weren't all that impaired because I won a free game and beat my own high score. I guess I'd only freaked out because drinking was sort of new to me. Maybe I'd even be clear enough to drive home on my own. I hated the idea of leaving my car here and then trying to figure out how to retrieve it tomorrow. I was weighing the idea when Nick approached. "You've still got a few more minutes...I just wanted to watch you. You should see how you move when you play. You lean and work your hips and, well, it's sexy." He'd brought me a glass of Coke. "All he had was was diet. But it still has caffeine..." I'd lost the game because of the interruption, but I was done anyway. We sat down together at the same table Butcher had been sitting at earlier. Looking across at him finally gave me a chance to look right at his face. He wasn't bad looking at all - just big. His eyes were thinking eyes. "I don't think I'll be needing the cab. I feel a lot better." "I don't know, Jeff. You have to prove it to me. We'll take a walk around the block and then I'll decide if you're okay to drive." "A walk? Around here?! I don't think that's a good idea." He stood up. "Look who you're with, kid. Nothing will bad happen...except I might make a pass at you." He winked, laughed. "Just kidding. Finish your Coke and we'll go." I'd never had diet Coke before. It was kind of nasty, but I needed something carbonated that wasn't alcoholic. We headed for the door and Leslie and Nick said a few quick words to each other as I stood there feeling about 98% of my normal self. "Ready?" "Yeah. Can you just walk me to my car? I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine." "We had a deal. Don't go back on your word now." I was in a spot...I didn't want this guy mad at me, but walking around the block seemed pretty pointless. "OK. You have a flashlight? It doesn't look like most of your streetlamps are working." "Already got it. Let's walk, Jeffy." We headed in the opposite direction of my car like two dumb characters in a horror movie -- where the whole audience is yelling "Don't go!". It was strangely thrilling. I felt adrenaline chase the remaining alcohol out of my system. "Why doesn't the city fix some of the lights?" "We're low on the list. There are pot holes around here that are two years old." We went around the corner where it was darker still. "Hold on a second." He bent down and kissed me on the mouth. I responding by kissing back. Then it was over. Just like that. "That was nice. Think you'd ever go out with someone like me." "I know I would." "Cool." "Can we go back to the bar? This street is completely dark." "It's okay. I'll turn the flashlight on." He fumbled around with it started flashing like a disco. "Shit. Wrong button." "Why does it have a strobe?" "It's a signal for emergencies and stuff." I guess he wasn't able to find the normal light because we were walking again into total darkness. Headlights caught us from about fifteen yards away. As the vehicle slowly approached, Nick grabbed my wrist painfully hard. "Your ride is here."

1990 Was it really almost thirty years ago? How did so much time go by without my consent? It was a great time to be young and starting a new life in a new city. I got a job as a copywriter for a struggling ad agency that didn't pay all that great. I didn't mind because anything was better than being a poor college kid. I moved into a very old apartment building near the middle of the city. The whole area had high hopes to become "quaint", but it didn't seem to be working very well. The rent on my studio apartment was the same as what I'd paid for the student slum I'd just moved out of. It was on a rounded corner of the building which made my place curved and unique. It was noisy and very gay. This neighborhood had become a 'safe place' for low-income misfits. Young people with crappy jobs and alternative lives congregated here. My 'gaydar' had never quite worked which caused me to always get interested in guys that were batting for the other team. I ended up jerking off a lot. So be it. It didn't take long for me to join up with a ragtag crew of gay men who lived in my building. We'd all meet up at a park around the corner to gossip, drink and smoke. The park was actually quite beautiful for this area. It had an old iron archway at the entrance. There was no playground equipment or sandboxes because no families ever came here. We'd just take over a pair of picnic tables and hang out till all hours, passing bottles of whatever. This happened every single night, but I missed a lot of gatherings because there were TV shows I was addicted to and I hadn't yet splurged on a VCR. Twin Peaks was my number one favorite show back then. I'd sit and not take my eyes off my little 19" screen in, even if it was a repeat. I kind of hated missing out on the gatherings because this group loved to talk shit about whoever wasn't there. Vicious appraisals and rumors would fire them all up and I always wondered what was said about me. The de facto leader of the club was my next door neighbor, Kurt. He was pleasant to everyone but there were daggers hidden in his smile. There was a period of time when Kurt decided we should all have nicknames. Mine was 'Puppy Dog' - which I guess is better than other things I could have been called. That didn't last long because we kept mixing them up after the drinking had gotten underway. Let me editorialize here for a minute. I'm almost 52 now and the gay community has made so much progress in this country, but we still tear each other down on a personal level. Why? Weren't we all whispered about, laughed at and bullied when we were younger? Didn't we hate being called "fag", "homo", and "sissy"? It needs to end. We're all on the same side after all. A guy named Gene got it the worst. I'd seen him once or twice, but never actually met him. He worked for a sanitation company and, according to the group, smelled pretty rank all the time. He first encountered their scorn by using the park to cruise for blow jobs. It was a pretty large park with many trees and I had no idea what happened in the far shadows. Kurt had made it an unspoken rule that there was to be no sex within our club. He also didn't want a bunch of random horny men lurking about. Gene was also called "demented"."retarded" and "criminal". Everybody seemed to have a personal anecdote about Gene. "I was in the elevator with him once and almost passed out from the smell.","I saw him looking almost clean once like he'd showered and washed his hair, but the smell was still there. He can probably never get rid of it.", "Why does he come here at 3 in the morning, looking to get his dick sucked? No sane person would put their mouth on him.", "I was once trapped in a conversation with him and I couldn't make any sense of what he was saying." I didn't belong with this group. Poor Gene. I was stupid enough to try to defend him. "Garbage Men make a pretty good salary. They're Union." Kurt looked wounded. "Who cares? He obviously doesn't spend a dime on soap. You know what you say when you see him? You say 'Hi, Gene' ...you know like 'hygiene'. It's getting to be an old joke but it's still funny every time." Was it funny? Not in my opinion. Every time we saw a figure in the distance, the crowd would yell "Hi, Gene!!" Stupid. I decided right then to make this gathering an infrequent event for me. Kurt trapped me in the hallway and asked why I'd been so scarce. "I took on some freelance work and it keeps me very busy." I didn't sell the excuse very well and he started looking at me differently. Judging. I didn't want to give him any new ammunition to use against me so I stayed civil when I made small talk with him. I was really loving k.d. lang at the time, but I never played music very loud in case he tried to use that against me. Ultimately, I decided I didn't care anymore. It took me 22 years, but I finally started to not give a shit what other people said about me. I blasted my music after that. Apartment-dwellers know that you have to pick a really good time to do your laundry....not a peak hours. I usually did mine early on Saturday mornings when the rest of the building was sleeping off whatever they'd done the night before. That Spring I developed some severe insomnia. I was wide awake and staring at the ceiling one Sunday morning before the sun was even up. I decided to just go ahead and do a load of whites. I had a pocket full of quarters and a new book I'd started...I might even do two loads if sleep never came. Of course the laundry room was in a depressing basement. Most laundry places were glum. I started getting to the task at hand. 75 cents to wash and 50 cents to dry. I stayed there and read my book undisturbed. Say what you will about this chore but I always liked the smell of soap and fabric softener -- it was a fresh, hopeful scent. Right after I'd loaded the dryer, I saw him. Gene. He seemed like he was sleepwalking or on drugs or something. He looked dazed. Was he just now coming home? Or going out? I just gave him a smile and went back to my book. I wasn't about to say "Hi, Gene" because of those guys in the park. It seemed my smile was all he needed to walk right up to where I was sitting and say "Don't you sleep?" "Hi. Yeah. Lately, I've had trouble staying asleep, though. Thought I'd get this done since I was wide awake." How to describe Gene physically? It's not easy to penetrate that aura of weirdness to really see him. He was about 6'2" with a fairly average build...maybe a little underweight. Around my age. His jet black hair looked like he had cut himself. He did seem a little unclean, but whatever odor he had was masked by the laundry detergent smells. "I'm Troy. I moved in here a few months ago." "I'm Gene -- which is short for 'Genius'." Was he kidding around? His expression didn't tell me. "I've seen you around. You're on the seventh floor, right?" "Yeah. On the rounded side." "That's nice. Know anything about giant squid?" Huh? He might actually be crazy. "No. Not much." "He sat next to me. I smelled something a little foul but it wasn't so terrible. I grew up on a farm and had smelled far worse things. "Why do you ask?" "They can kill you. They shoot this thick cloud of ink out of their bodies and it's heavy and sticky." I didn't think that was true, but I just nodded. "Can you imagine? You're underwater and one of those fuckers releases that stuff all over you. You're glued to a rock or a reef and you can't breathe....so you die." "Wow." When would my stuff be dry? I didn't care if it was damp or not -- I was going to get away from this guy. "So you know that Kurt guy, right?" "I know him, but we're not friends." "He's out to ruin me for some reason. I never did anything to him or any of the park gang. Don't bother me none." "He's a viper in a ballerina costume." That made him laugh. He may have been a little unkempt but he had an honest smile -- perfect, white teeth. "What do you do, Travis?" "It's 'Troy'. I'm a writer. I work for an ad agency downtown." "Wow. You look like you're 15...and already a 9-5 professional? Impressive. I work for Duffy Sanitation. I only work 30 hours a week, but the pay is good. I am saving up enough to get the hell out of this place...maybe go take some college courses. I like to write too. I'm working on a book when I have time. Maybe you can help me with it." "Fiction? Like a novel?" "Yeah. There's a giant killer squid in the chapter I just started." OK. This was interesting now. I fed more quarters into the dryer. "Well -- I don't think squid shoot ink that traps people. I've read about them and they use the ink to get away from predators. It just clouds the water so they can escape." "Not in my story. It kills divers." He wasn't crazy -- just a writer. Same difference. "What are you doing up so early, Gene?" "Just stuff. I like to walk very late at night and see what's up in the park." "Is there ever anything 'up' at this hour?" I held my cards close to the vest. Nobody goes off by themselves to a park at this hour. "Sometimes. It's a pretty big park and the huge Cottonwood trees at the far West end and they hide some interesting people." I guess Kurt got some things right about him. "Isn't that dangerous?" "It can be. You should go with me some time." Oh hell -- Kurt and his posse would have a collective heart attack if they saw Gene and I cruising the park together. "Sure, but I usually don't stay up this late or early. I've just had trouble sleeping lately." "Try smoking hash. That'll solve it." He had to be kidding, right? I could never even handle regular pot. It made me nervous and helpless. "Nah. I'll probably call my doctor and try to get some Valium or something." "Just don't get addicted. I smoke hash almost every day before work. It's not like the day goes faster or anything -- it's just that it gets new and interesting. It's loud work and most of the guys wear ear plugs but not me. The noise is amazing when you're high. I can feel it in my dick even." I'd known some people in college who could function perfectly fine when they were on drugs, but I'm pretty sure I'd never be one of them. "Wow. They don't drug test you guys?" "Just the drivers. I think your clothes are dry by now...it's been over an hour." He was right. They were most likely baked to a crisp already. I took everything out of the dryer, folded the t-shirts and paired the socks. I did it mainly because I knew that if I left now, this bizarre conversation would end. I also wasn't even close to being sleepy. Gene watched me and kept talking. "Remember when you were just starting school and the teacher would tell the class to put their thinking caps' on? All the kids pretended to put on hats but I never did. I also never said 'God' when they made us say the pledge of allegiance." I would have liked to have known him as a kid. We might have been best friends. "I never took the words of that pledge to heart -- it was all just automatic parroting. Same with The Lord's Prayer. I had no clue what any of it meant." I was done and Gene grabbed my basket to carry it for me. "Oh, you don't have to..." "It's okay. I got it." Well, I guess he was going to follow me to my door. Would he want to come in? "Thanks. So you don't work on Sundays?" His aroma was a little more intimate inside the elevator. Either I'd gotten used to it or he didn't smell that bad. "Nope. Saturdays neither. We won't run into your neighbor, will we?" "I doubt it. He's never awake before noon or so. Don't worry." "I'm not worried for my sake...for his. I'll kick his ass and he knows it. I already know why he hates me." "Why?" "Long story. I need a beer first...got any?" We'd arrived at my floor. "No. I have a bottle of wine that somebody gave me when I graduated. I don't know if it's any good." "Yuck. No thanks. Put your clothes away and we'll go back to my place. I buy the good of beer." Well...why the hell not? I was curious if nothing else. Once inside, Gene complimented me on every single thing that caught his eye. My lamp, futon, candles, the neatness... "It's smaller than my apartment, but you've made really good use of the space." I thanked him and began putting my clean clothes away. He went on to study my collection of tapes. "Bonnie Raitt, Blondie, Lindsay Buckingham, Nirvana...you've got great taste. Never heard of k.d. lang before. Is it a she or a he? Country?" He picked it up and tucked in his back pocket. "We'll listen to this when we get back to my place." His hand was groping his crotch but I didn't read anything into it. Guys just do that sometimes instinctively. I did it even when I had no sexual thoughts at all. "OK. I'm done. Ready to go?" We left and I saw Kurt's closed door. He would flat out shit himself if he saw me leaving my apartment with Gene. I almost wanted him to be awake and see this. "I'm on 3. I don't have a nice view like you do, but I get to see the sun rise every day. You ever write poetry?" "No. Well...sort of. I've written slogans -- which sometimes rhyme. So why do you and Kurt hate each other?" He looked down at me and shook his head. "Not yet. I'll tell you everything after I have a beer in my hand." Ding. We arrived and I didn't even take one second to think what I might be about to see. He opened the door and I was expecting anything but what I saw. It was normal. Plain. He had a really nice stereo system and some assorted furniture that didn't look showroom new but not dingy. I sometimes saw random old chairs and sofas on the curb. I'm fairly certain he didn't get any of his stuff from the street. Yes, the smell couldn't be called "pleasant", but it was not horrible either. I thought of a friend of mine who'd worked a year in a candle store. She and everything she owned smelled like candles. I guess you couldn't help but bring odors from your job home with you. "That looks like an expensive stereo, Gene." "JVC. It's not all that fancy." He took out the k.d. lang tape out of his pocket and put it in. "Rewind it so we can listen to all of it." I noticed there was no dust anywhere. I'd left the tape at the end of my favorite song "Diet of Strange Places". I rewound it just a little so he could hear what I considered to be one of the best songs I'd ever heard. I'd never played this for anyone Starving, I've got this hunger/ Growling from deep within By the time I turned around, Gene had taken off his shoes and socks. He was sitting on the couch and stretching his legs. "Wow. It's a woman. She's got an excellent voice. How'd you find her? She'd been on TV several times, but I couldn't even answer before Gene went to the kitchen to get the beers. I guess he really really wanted one. "Can you play that song again?" "Let's listen to the rest of this side and then I'll rewind it." He arched an eyebrow as if I was challenging him. "Sure, Troy. Are you all comfortable there on the floor?" I actually was. "Yeah. This is good beer." It was. "It's imported." He suddenly got up and sat down on the carpet next to me, mimicking my way of sitting. "Don't sip that like it's one of your wines. You take good healthy swallows of beer. It's not like you have to get up for work today." I am an amateur when it comes to drinking. Well, OK. He'd already finished his. I chugged and handed him the empty bottle. The lack of sleep and the fast beer seemed to make me feel completely content. "Okay, Gene. Now tell me why you and Kurt have this feud." He sighed. "I'll start by saying we know each other already." Another sigh. "He and I moved in here at about the same time. We were pleasant to each other at first. I started checking out the park after a week and kept seeing him there...not at the picnic tables. He was cruising the shadows just like me. You won't believe this but I saw him get fucked by strangers. He knew how cute he was and used it to get so much dick up his little ass." I was blown away by these revelations. "Um. Did you and he...?" "Yes. Twice." "With a condom?" "There are no condoms in a park at 2 in the morning. I've gone through periods of time when I liked fucking...on both ends. But it's so much easier to just get your dick sucked. You shoot a load either way." "Wow. So he hates you for doing that with him?" "That's not all." He was deflated by the confession, but went and got us two more beers. I had so much to think about. Too much. This beer was so good. "He hates me for knowing something else." "Give me a second to have some more swallows." I was bordering a state of shock. Sleep would just not be possible for now. He was watching my face for any trace of what I was thinking. The tape turned over automatically. I finished half the beer before he continued. "I know he was HIV. I only know because we run into each other at the free health clinic on Poplar sometimes. I've got it too, by the way. What are you thinking right now?" I had no idea what to say. I'd just wing it for now. "I guess I have to say that I'm sorry." "For what?" "That you have the virus...and also that you haunt the damn park for sex when you're good-looking and smart enough to just date like regular people." He arched his eyebrow again. Maybe I'd said the wrong thing. Beer. "You think I'm 'good looking'? For real?" "Yeah. And tall and honest and.... Just go get a decent haircut. I'll take you to the place I go." He flashed that dazzling smile again and I felt the floor disappear from beneath me. "Look....the sun is coming up. It's never the same but always perfect." I turned my head to watch. He was right -- perfect. Pink and lavender were meeting up in such a beautiful way that words couldn't possibly tell you how perfect it was. I turned back to thank him for pointing it out to me but we weren't eye-level anymore. Gene was standing. He was rubbing his crotch again, but this was intentional. His eyes were so brown that they were almost looked black. I touched his bare ankle. I was developing some feelings for Gene. And now? I'd be passive and wait. He was the host. "Remember me telling you what I liked the most?" Of course I did. He unbuttoned the fly of his jeans and let a bare naked dick jut out into the air. It bounced even. I was still on the floor at his feet. "Do you think you'd like to help me out? It's not entirely safe, but I won't cum in your mouth...that should be okay." I let my hands wander up and down his legs. They were harder and more developed than I would have guessed. He did physical work after all...not to mention all his park walking. I figured my hands were answering for me. Yes. I wanted to give him the best blow job he'd ever had from a beginner. I knew what I felt like doing but wasn't sure it would be enough. The penis wasn't huge or anything, but it was so straight and so hard -- he could punch a hole in the wall with that thing. I'd have to move myself up on my knees a little higher. His hidden virus didn't once enter my thoughts. I put my lips on the plum-colored head. His gasp was one of absolute pleasure. "Yeah...go slow. Take your time." I could've listened, but my hunger for his beautiful organ was bordering on insane at this moment. I did what I could to take the whole thing. "Shit! I didn't expect you to make me feel so good. Keep it up and I'll shoot down your throat in about ten seconds." I redoubled my effort and, sure enough, he tensed up with a load ready to release. "Fuck, man!" He let a few heavy spurts loose on my tongue. Semen. HIV semen. I could do this every day. I pulled away and tried to recognize myself and where I was. I took some deep breaths and stood up...a little unsteady. "How'd I do?" "You earned first prize. Let's go to my bedroom and relax. Need another beer?" I had barely touched the last one he'd brought me so I said 'no'. k.d. was still singing and I heard new things. I was also loving the taste in my mouth. "Nah. I'm fine." "Leave the beer and let's go to bed." "Lead the way." His bedroom was pretty nice....the smell lingered, but I thought it was sexy now. I'd buy him some nice candles from a fancy store. "Get out of those clothes and get comfy." I was amazed at how calmly I did as told. His bed was super comfortable. He was fishing around in his nightstand. I almost asked him what he was doing but was too mesmerized by the sight of his nice bare ass. I could hear the music coming through the wall. He found his hash pipe or pot pipe or whatever it was. "You can have exactly two hits. It's not hash -- just really good weed. I'm afraid of letting you escape into your private thoughts. Infection from oral sex is pretty rare...so don't get wrapped up in regret just now." I was still rock hard and my boner didn't seem to care that it was so obvious and visible. Sex was unfair that way. Both partners should cum at the same time, every time. I felt kind of ridiculous. Gene was doing his weed thing and trying to light it. I wasn't real excited about this, but the smell was nice and exotic. He passed it to me and I made a good amateur effort to inhale it the correct way. How soon would this start working? My lungs absorbed the smoke. I suddenly didn't want a second hit...I was not a 'pot person' and likely never would be. Lets just see how it went. Nothing so far...except the music crept in and got louder. It's almost as if the stereo was right there in the room. You're drivin' me crazy/ Hey now, baby,please "I'm going to buy a CD player next week. This will be the first disc I get." He took a few more puffs of the magic herb while I just looked at his nude body. "You've got really nice legs, Gene." "Yeah? I don't have a sit-down job like you do. Manual labor is better than going to the gym. Damn, Troy....you have an intense erection. Horny? I'm flattered." It seemed wise not to say anything right now. He was fingering his balls and working himself up into an emerging boner. "Give me a minute to rest and we'll do each other again. Whatever you want. I didn't mean to be so selfish earlier...I just really love getting blown. I can blow you next or you can do me again. Take a minute to think. Really think. I don't want to hurt...." His words turned into scribbles as he talked. I was just happy to be near his warm, feverish body. My instinct was to kiss his mouth like we were in a romantic movie. I ignored the bizarre dreams waiting for me. My Gene. I decided I wanted him to fuck me,bust my cherry. HIV never figured into the decision. I wanted him to shoot a load inside of me even though I'd never been fucked down there. How bad could it be? Gay men did this. He needed to relax and build up another load. I waited. "So?..." He knew how to read me, so why didn't he just take charge??" "I want you to fuck me, Gene. Like we're on our honeymoon." "I was afraid I'd get you to this point. Shit. I have a dirty cock and no rubbers. I want to fuck your ass so much, but it's just too dangerous." He was high, but still reluctant to do the wrong thing. You have to admire that ethic. And I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to have some bare, raw sex with him. But I was going with the mood. It was already mid-morning, and the sun was snaking itself through the blinds. I was just really wanting my cherry to be popped by the wonderful dick which belonged to this wonderful guy. Viruses were a random thing...and so was mortality. None of us were guaranteed a long life. Despite all our fatal thoughts, Gene's cock was standing up straight like a soldier. My own boner had never gone away. "Let's follow through with what would happen eventually." "You sure? Put your thinking cap on, Troy." "I never take it off." "OK. No going back from here." He was stroking his meat faster and harder. It made a wet sound even though there was no lube involved. He leaked a lot of pre-cum which impressed me. How bad could this be? "Once I start, I don't stop. You're about to get a powerful fuck that will change you forever." He may have been trying to warn me, but all it was doing was making me hotter. "Yeah. It's going to happen eventually. I'd rather it be with you than with some stranger. Know what I mean?" He was thinking. "OK. You aren't too stoned to consent to this, right?" "Weirdly, no. I have a history of freaking out when I smoke, but I'm fine. I feel very clear." "It's good stuff. Very kind to the system." He had worked himself up into another impressive hard-on. I still couldn't get over how straight and steel-like it looked. "You have the most perfect dick I've ever seen, dude...not that I've seen any besides in magazines. But still..." "Thanks, Troy. Yours is nice and healthy-sized too. You'll fuck me one day, right?" "ANY time." That made him even hotter. "I don't have any lube. I wasn't expecting company tonight. I have Crisco in the kitchen...lemme go go grease my stuff up. Be right back...." He left me alone with k.d. lang's perfect voice still serenading me in the morning light. This lonely achin' heart of mine/ That now, folks, feels sublime Gene returned with his proud boner all shiny and perfect. I wanted that tool to take my virginity, but more importantly, I wanted this man to take it and be my first. His disease didn't factor in at all. I wanted this. I wanted HIM. "Move on down to the end of the end of the bed. Stay on your back so I can look at you and see if you're in too much pain. I really, really don't want to hurt you." "I'll be okay, Gene. This is for you too." I wished he'd fall in love with me and want to fuck every night...even though I'd never done this before. It must feel good if the whole world was doing it. "Ready? No turning back once I get inside you. I'll try to pull out before I cum, but I don't have a real good track record in that department. " I searched my brain for hesitation but didn't find any. "I'm ready." It was awkward getting adjusted, but he'd done this before so I just cooperated. It was almost like doing a reverse sit-up...with some help. His dick felt even larger than it looked, especially as it tried to find my little opening. He found it and a wave of pure pleasure washed over his face. Glorious anticipation. Then he was making a concentrated to poke his way in. I didn't expect the pain -- it felt like a cruel violation. "Too much?" "No. I mean -- please go slow." "OK. This is the worst part. It'll feel better pretty soon. Hold on." I took him literally and reached around to grab his butt with both hands. He moaned and that made me open up a little more. His hard rod inched forward and the pain was still pretty intense, but not any worse. In about six seconds, something inside of me down there ached in the most awesome way. Prostate. He must have known it after I let loose a sigh of satisfaction. "Found it!" I ejaculated right as he said that. No wonder gay guys were dying from this act -- it was worth dying for. Then he fell into a rhythm of going in and out, in and out. I was in ecstasy, plain and simple. He sped his pace up and I felt his butt cheeks clench and relax over and over again. He had his eyes closed. "I'm getting ready...I'm going to...hold on..." I really didn't want him to pull out. I wanted him to have his moment just as I had. "FUCK!" He tensed and then collapsed on top of me. His weight was delicious. "Wow. Thank you, Gene." "I came inside of you. Shit, I'm sorry. It just felt so good." "Don't be sorry. I wanted you to." "I guess I kinda knew that. I'm grateful, but a little scared for you." Gene and I ended up as a 'couple'. We fucked constantly and talked about moving in together. Kurt's little group broke up as guys moved or got tired of his bullshit. Gene kept dragging me along to with him to the clinic and I finally tested positive the week before Easter. He still craved sex with strangers from the park, and I went with him sometimes. It was kind of thrilling to watch him spread his seed. He always came home to me...my garbageman, my first and last love.

1994 I had stayed a virgin all through college, but that quickly changed as soon as I graduated. I moved to a city with such a visible gay community that I couldn't help but find my way 'over the rainbow'. It was welcoming, warm and usually smelled like alcohol and cigarettes. Also dangerous. It was the Midwest, and the AIDS epidemic had finally made its way here in a major way. A bath house I'd never even gotten a chance to go to was now closed. Adult bookstores disappeared, but gay bars seemed to multiply. Looking back now, I 'd guess there had been twenty of them located in this mid-sized city It was in one of them that I met Benjamin. He knew everybody and had scored us so many free shots that night. He was Cuban and darkly attractive. He was older than me -- by a lot. He'd lied about his age from the beginning. We parted ways that night after exchanging phone numbers. We fucked the night of our first date. He was experienced and couldn't believe I made him wear a condom. He told me he was clean, but I was insistent about safety. I had a new life and a new career, and didn't want to get deathly sick. Benjamin lived farther out from the city...somewhere in a hick-infested neighborhood. Our second date was at his modest house. It seemed nice and decorated like his grandma had picked out all the colors, furniture and little touches here and there. He had a son living with him who was a ridiculously handsome teen (he was actually 22 at the time). Ben claimed he had gotten married at the age of fifteen and I believed him for minute or two. He was a liar and that didn't bode well for us as a couple. He drank gin and tonic, which I'd never tried. It was a fine drink that I grew to love a little too much. This relationship had an expiration date, but I seemed to be the only one who knew it. He introduced me to tons of people...especially at the ratty little tavern near his house. That's where I was introduced to Stan. Stan was Benjamin's hairdresser. He was maybe 30 or a little older. Tall, blonde, lean and a major fashion victim. I hadn't been much interested in what styles trendy. I won't say that Stan was handsome, but there was something appealing about him. He fully owned being gay and I was still learning the ropes. I guess he had a lover and it was news to Ben. "You finally settled down?! Are you being faithful?" "Most of the time." I guess this Stan guy wasn't keeping up with the news. Being afraid of AIDS was a full-time preoccupation for me. "Does he know?" "Oh yeah. He has boys on the side too. It's how we both got the same diseases." THAT's what his appeal was. He was out there enjoying sex and satisfying his inner slut. Nobody lives forever and he was going to get full use of his youth while I was biding my time with Benjamin and being scared of all the consequences of 'having fun'. Stan flitted away among the sparse crowd while Ben and I played darts. For whatever reason, darts were a big thing among the gays in this city. They had leagues and everything. I didn't get it. It was not that much fun to play even when you'd had some drinks in you. But it was a better option than just sitting and trying to have a conversation with my boyfriend. We had almost nothing in common other than being gay. "So he cuts your hair?" "Every month. He's very, very good, but a little expensive. You should let him cut your hair." It drove Ben crazy that I gave no shits about my hair. I normally went to Super Cuts and paid six bucks. It's not like I had a complicated head of hair or anything. "OK. I'll go the next time you go." I surprised both of us by agreeing to go spend forty bucks on a haircut. It seemed to put him in a good mood. He scheduled us for back-to-back appointments with him a week later. I agreed mainly because I wanted to see Stan again. Why? I think you can guess. The salon was much nicer than what I was used to. It even had a 'skin care technician' who wore a white lab coat. Half of the hairdressers there were gay dudes. Ben went first while I sat and looked at one of those big fashion magazines with thick,glossy paper and about fifty cologne samples. The thing was 60% advertising and every page made me feel more and more like the hayseed I was. I didn't belong here. My clothes were mostly from J.C. Penney's and the last person to cut my hair was a homely pregnant chick with a ton of regrettable tattoos and no wedding ring. When it was finally my turn, Benjamin and Stan came out to get me just as I had started thinking of ways to escape. "Ready?" "Let's go." I was led back to the shampoo area which Super Cuts didn't have. Stan said, "Relax and let Janet take care of you while I take a smoke break." Janet was a beautiful young gal who was gentle as she steadied my head at the lip of the sink. The shampoo smelled expensive and she took her time lathering and rinsing. It was wonderful to be pampered like this and I was wishing she'd never stop massaging my scalp. But Stan was back and ready for me. He was dressed very fashionably - with more than a hint of gay slut. Where do you even get clothes like that? "What are you wanting today?" "Something basic. I work in a pretty conservative place and don't want to upset anybody." "I can do conservative -- with an edge. You OK with that?" Was I? I had no idea. I remember being 9 or ten years old and telling my mom that I wanted to be a punk rocker when I grew up. Or a chef. I was undecided at that point. I just nodded and prepared for whatever. I kinda hated facing that big mirror they have at every hair-cutting place. My natural expression had developed into a frown over the years. Sometimes it looked like a scowl. I watched Stan as he maneuvered around me with his comb and scissors. I thought about what he looked like naked, got lost in some fantasies where I was sucking his dick. "How's your boyfriend?" "What? Who?" "When we met a few weeks ago you told Benjamin and I about this guy you were with." "Oh, right. Him. We broke up already. He needed money so he volunteered for a clinical medication study and it fucked him up." "Medication for what?" I could have guessed, but would they really test an AIDS drug here? "H.I.V. There's promising stuff coming - maybe even a cure. He was willing to take a chance that he wouldn't get the placebo. He got his wish, but it damn near killed him. The pills fucked with his heart and he ended up in the hospital. He might still be there for all I know." "I'm sorry." "How are things with you and Ben?" "The same." "That didn't sound very enthusiastic." He had a grin that the devil himself would be proud of. "No. It's just that he wants me to move in with him, and we've only been dating for a few months." I said too much. He and Benjamin were friends and he'd likely tell on me. I couldn't exactly backtrack now. "He's the marrying type. I never have been. I suppose it would be nice, but I've got a wandering eye...always looking for the next fuck." "Yeah. At least you know what your path is. I'm new. I'm 24 and want to see what's out there before I commit." Again...too much info. "Well don't settle down with him. He's a nice guy but very needy. He's old, too." "He's not. He's only 34, right?" "Yeah...if that's code for '45'. He's only three years older than me." I knew it. "..." "He does this all the time. He lies about his age and tries to get cute young guys with a job to move in and help him pay the mortgage on that dumpy house. He might have a good heart, but he is not to be trusted. You're a kid -- go have some fun." He looked into my mirror eyes and winked. "..." I just had no words. "Leave me your phone number and I'll fix you up with some guys around your age." Well, at least I had some dirt on him in case he ever tried to rat me out to Ben. I sensed he wouldn't. I wrote my number on a slip of random paper while he briefly lifted the scissors away from my head. When he was done blow-drying me and applying gel, I thought I looked great. I had a little 'edge' as he'd promised...but it was within my comfort zone. "Perfect!" It was maybe a week later that I finally let go of Benjamin. I retreated back to my apartment in the city and let my answering machine screen all incoming calls. He finally gave up and was probably out scouting for another sucker this very minute. I didn't go right out and enjoy a bunch of sex which I'd planned to do. I was happy being alone and isolated. Books, movies and music were more important to me than bars and dicks. Stan had never called me, and so I went back to Super Cuts which did a good enough job for me. Things were going great for months. And then the phone rang. "Hello?" "What's up?" The voice was familiar somehow. "Hi! How are things?" I still wasn't sure who I was talking to. "Oh, it's been a total mess. I'm not at the salon anymore...it got way too dramatic there." It was Stan. OK. "My mama died and left me her house. I work from there now. The only clients that followed me here were a bunch of old ladies who always liked me for whatever reason. They've been dropping like flies since Christmas and I'm trying to build up a bigger client base." That's why he was calling. He didn't want to do anything gay with me. He wanted a paying customer. "Did Benjamin follow you too?" "Oh...you didn't know? He moved to Florida with some new guy he found." Good for him. I never wished him harm - I only wished I hadn't wasted so much time with him. "I'll give you a deep discount on your first visit." That sounded sexual. I guess he knew he had his charms. "OK. I had a haircut not long ago, but I'll drop by in a month. How's that?" "Good. I work noon to six every day except Monday. I've got another side business going so just call and leave me a message when you want an appointment." He gave me his address and phone number which I put on my fridge with a little round magnet. I was glad he called but can't say exactly why. I was going through a phase where I liked bigger, beefier, harrier men. I talked to a few of them at bars now and then but never made a connection. If they didn't have lady voices, they had awful grammar -- which was something that bugged the shit out of me. My ideal was impossible to find, but I still had hands and a VCR...so I was fine with being celibate and single. I remember my older brother telling me all about sex. He was a big jock stud who always had a girlfriend. He was pissed that Mom had found one of his adult magazines in my room. She wanted to know where I got it, and I just told the truth. We were both in trouble. "You're not old enough for this, dude. Cool it. You've got the rest of your life to have sex. Look around...every adult likes to fuck. Mom and Dad do it, your teachers do it, every adult you see at the grocery store does it. Guys AND girls. Don't get ahead of yourself now." Stan's house was in a very odd neighborhood I'd never been to before. The houses looked fairly normal when I turned left on 65th Terrace but then you started seeing weird dwellings. Tiny houses painted in garish colors. Some of them looked like they were meant to be something else in another part of town. I found Stan's address and pulled into the driveway. Wow. I guess his new side business was 'junk dealer'. The front of the house looked like a duplicate of Fred Sanford's place. The yard was full of hubcaps, assorted car parts and panes of glass. Everything was coated with layers of dirt and/or rust. It wasn't sad so much as interesting. My dad once took me to a junkyard just because I'd never seen one. I was fascinated to the point where I was rendered completely mute. Dad let me wander around and look at all the wrecked cars, old appliances and all the various pieces of someone's discarded life. My favorite thing was an actual staircase from somebody's house. It was just there, leading to nowhere. I'd been told not to touch anything, but I couldn't help but climb a few steps. If we had this in the backyard, I could invent about a million games and fantasies built around the stairs. I lived almost totally in fantasy world back then. Dad found me and was mad when he saw me on it. He hustled me back to his car and I never found out what that staircase led to. As soon as I knocked on the door (doorbell was broken) about a thousand barks erupted from inside. Dogs. Junkyard dogs, probably. "Come on in," Stan called from inside. The door was unlocked. The second I got in, five or six little mutts of various colors jumped all over my legs. "Have a seat while I finish with Margaret." There weren't many places to sit. Just one spot on the couch. The minute I took a seat, all those little dogs competed for my attention. One of them smelled pretty bad and needed a bath in the worst way. I could see him in the kitchen, drying the hair of some ancient woman who had her eyes closed like she was dead. I didn't to stare. The coffee table in front of me was littered with ashtrays, cords, remote controls and random things. There was an ancient paperback book that looked intriguing. "Alfred Hitchcock Presents - Short Story Collection". It was autographed!! I wanted this. I'd have him add it to my bill. A horn honked from outside that set the dogs off again. "Oh, that's my cab," the old woman said. She was alive. "Let me just give you some spray and then I'll help you out." Stan helped Margaret to the door and told the dogs to stay back. I'm guessing they knew already not to hassle old ladies. He closed the door and said, "Goddamn. I'm tired. You're my last appointment, but I need a little rest first." He plopped down on the couch next to me. There wasn't much room so he was sitting so close to me that our legs and shoulders touched. "I need a cigarette. Want one?" I didn't even answer before he'd already lit one and handed it to me. I guess smoking was a lot like drinking...people liked it better when they weren't the only ones doing it. "So. Are you in the...'antique' business now?" "Sort of...I mostly do flea markets these days. I've done them in Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas...nearby states." He had a Southern drawl even though he was from Missouri. Was that considered 'The South'? Maybe he'd just adopted that accent to seduce men. Or maybe he was like me and had done everything possible to masculine enough to pass scrutiny from friends and family. "It ain't so bad. It's my main income now." Ugh. I hate when people say 'ain't'. I've walked away from potential hook-ups at bars if they used that word. Stan seemed to have adopted a more casual fashion sense. He was wearing sweatpants, flip-flops, a t-shirt and a backwards baseball cap. I guess he was off his fashion game for whatever reason. "I was looking at this Alfred Hitchcock book. Can I buy it from you?" "Oh yeah. Shit. I don't even remember where I got that -- from a yard sale probably." "How much?" "Three bucks." "Sold!" "We'll settle up later. Let's go to the kitchen and get started now." We both stubbed out our smokes and stood up. I watched him walk in front of me and noticed he'd put on some weight since the last time I saw him. The sweatpants shaped his butt nicely and it was easy to see that he wasn't wearing underwear. Margaret may not have noticed, but I sure as hell did. I thought he was looked hotter in casual clothes than he did all spiffy and fashionable. He'd even stopped dying his hair and you could see that it was actually dark brown with a patch of gray here and there. His kitchen was chaos, but not filthy. He sat me down and shampooed me over a little mini-sink. During the process, his groin brushed my arm for a brief second. I felt the chunk of meat under his sweats. Damn! I was impressed. At this point, I wasn't thinking he had done it on purpose. Once he put a towel around my neck and draped me with one of those smock things, I could look right at him in the mirror without giving myself away. He'd was heftier and had some definition in his chest. "Have you been working out?" Find me one gay man who doesn't love being asked that question. "Naw. I just get more physical activity in the new business. You know...lifting, loading.... unloading." I was almost ready to think he was flirting a little. Almost. Hmm. I'd test the waters. "Well, you look very fit." "Thanks. How do you want it? I don't remember how I did it back when I first cut your hair." "Conservative with an edge." "Oh right. Gotcha." I sometimes like to just close my eyes when I'm having a haircut, possibly snooze. Not today. I wanted to watch him and look. His crotch touched my shoulder and the back of my neck a few more times. I could swear his dick was growing each time, but his eyes gave nothing away. Stan was concentrating on the job at hand. I didn't want to push it just now while he was using scissors on my hair. He had to be doing it purpose, right? Maybe he was just trying to get a bigger tip out of me. I'd fell for that scam with bartenders before. Well...if that was the case, I'd go ahead and flirt back. "You seeing anyone, Stan?" "Not so much. I keep busy and just feel so old when I go to the clubs. They're all kids like you, and they don't want some old junk man." "I bet that's not true. I'm not even thirty yet and they look like children to me too." "Well, have fun while you can. You need to get as much cock as you can while guys still want to offer you one." He seemed like he was almost done with the scissors. So I adjusted myself back in the chair so that his groin was right up against the back of my head. He was fully erect. I could feel it. Once again, his eyes gave nothing away. I'd have to work for this. He was putting some mousse on my hair and combing it. When his crotch touched my hand, I just reached and grabbed the head of his dick through the sweatpants. I had notched up the flirting to a new level. Risking everything. "Well, FINALLY! You could have done that while we were sitting on the couch, but no....you made me do most of the work." I continued to hold his hard-on. "I didn't know for sure. I tend to hesitate with things." "I guess it's wise to be careful. I never was. Oh yeah. Squeeze that dick exactly like you're doing." I did. I made an attempt to tug down his pants. "Wait a minute while I sweep up the hair and feed the dogs. My bedroom is right off to the left of that doorway. It's kind of a mess, but there's a TV in there and you can switch it to whatever you want." I went into the dark room where the TV was already on. The room was indeed a mess, but at least the bed was made. It smelled like cigarette smoke and cologne. I had to give Stan some credit, though. I'd gone home with a few guys who lived in crap-hole apartments but their bedrooms were always neat and the lights were low and strategically placed. This told me they'd already planned to bring somebody over for sex. One dude had even left an unattended scented candle burning. Stan wasn't planning this...at least I don't think he was. I took off my shoes and and clicked through the channels. I wondered if he had booze in the house. A gin and tonic would be so good right now. The bed was so comfortable that I closed my eyes for a few seconds, a few minutes. "Hey! Don't go to sleep on me!" He was back. "Sorry. I worked all day and usually take naps on Fridays. It's kind of a ritual." He was carrying two full glasses with translucent red liquid and ice cubes in them. "I made us some drinks. I need one. How 'bout you?" I was polite and didn't ask what the drinks were. I'd settle for anything. Was it paranoid of me to choose the one he didn't hold closest to me? I had heard tales (from girls mostly) about being drugged with pills mixed into their alcohol. Stan didn't even notice my awkward maneuvering. He just stood there, smiling and looking so hot. He kicked off his flip-flops and lied down next to me. We were propped up against the headboard in an almost sitting position. I liked the drink. It was quite potent and had cranberry juice in it...that's all I knew. "It's so nice to rest. I'm tired of working." Maybe that was code for 'you take over the seduction now'. Who knows? I moved closer and we rubbed shoulders. I looked down at his body. His feet were boxy - with all the toes being the same length. My brother had feet like that and shoes never quite fit him right. His boner was relentless and making a tent out of his sweatpants. OK. I just reached over and grasped it like I did before. I took another swallow of the cranberry courage and the set the glass down. I pulled down the sweats to his lower thighs as his dick bounced up and took pleasure in its new freedom. "WOW! You've got a massive penis, Stan. I mean, Wow." He laughed. "You're surprised? I wear size 14 EEE shoes after all. My ass is nice too. I bet 90 percent of this city's gays have had a taste of either or both. You can suck my cock, but not until you get naked. Deal?" Oh he had a deal alright. I stripped in record time, but I still wasn't as fast as he was. I took one last swig of the drink and just jumped into bed next to him. I wasn't new to this kind of thing, but I'd never been so close to a naked POZ man before...that I knew of. "OK, Stan. I'm nervous and not very forward. Tell me what you want and I'll do it. " "OK, kid. There's safe stuff we can do, some mostly safe stuff we can do, and a lot of completely unsafe things we can do. I just now remembered Benjamin telling me about how you were a 'Condom Nazi'. There's none of them here unless you brought some with you. I want your mouth on my dick -- which is mostly safe. I haven't been blown in about a year...would you do that? Please?" He knew he didn't have to ask. I slid off the bed and went to the end of the bed. I crept up between his legs and took the tool in my mouth. It was clean, slick and throbbing. I felt his heartbeat through the wide shaft. It wasn't my first time at the rodeo -- I could deep throat a dick pretty well after my time with Ben. Stan was bigger than my ex, but not in an impossible way. He grunted with pleasure and I didn't hardly gag as I went all the way down to his pubes. "NICE!!" He adjusted both of us so that he was sitting on my chest and mounting my face. He was experienced and polite enough to let me come up for air briefly. He pulled his dick out from my lips without moving from my chest. I saw the glistening organ bobbing above me. "Thank you, Stan. I enjoyed that." "Me too. I can just finish off all over your face or I can fuck you. It gets more dangerous from here on." "Let's keep going. Please?" "So glad you said that. I'll pull out. okay?" "No. I don't want you to do that. Be an animal with me." "Nope. I know you feel that way right this second, but I don't want you to get AIDS. I'd never forgive myself, and you'd hate me in time." He was serious. "OK." "You'll thank me eventually." I doubted that, but I was so hard and horny that I just agreed. "I don't have any lube except some hand lotion. It's pretty greasy, though." It was the same brand my mom had always used to get rid of her raw, dishpan hands. I waited while he slathered it all over his tool and then smeared a glob on my hole. I'd always loved this part of the sex ritual...the pre-gaming. So much anticipation and lust. I waited for the ride to begin. He pushed into me with not much resistance on my part. It hurt, but I knew better sensations were coming. So to speak. He let out a huge breath as he went in an inch or two. "So tight! Try to loosen up a little." I felt tidal waves of pleasure crash over me. My contentment must have relaxed those inner muscles enough for Stan to get his bare dick all the way inside of me. To the hilt. "I'm so full of you." "Yeah.. it's really, really good. I'm going to pump a little and pull out pretty soon." "OK" He thrust like a madman and I felt a drop of sweat from his forehead fall onto my face. His pace and his grunting let me know he was close to cumming. I loved looking at his face as he was lost in pleasure, but I was lost in a memory/fantasy of climbing that junkyard staircase and reaching the top. Here was open sky that I knew would hold me if I dared move further. He grunted and his hip movements got faster. "SHIT...I..have to stop now." I reached around and held his bare ass close. He was strong enough to break away from my grip but made no effort. He moaned and unloaded that load of semen directly inside of me. "FUCKKKK!!!" He collapsed on top of me. I'd also cum at some point. He breathed heavily and rolled onto his back. "You wanted HIV? I mean...why did..." "It was perfect, Stan. Don't make me feel bad about this." "OK. Let's just rest a bit. I need to go piss first." After he returned, he pulled the comforter over us. I had an intensely satisfy nap. When I woke up, I saw that it was after midnight. Maybe it was a good time for me to leave and go home. I dressed in the sparse light and pulled out my wallet. I'd leave him cash for the haircut and the book..plus a generous tip. I left the money next to his scissors and walked to the door. All the little mutts were sleeping in any clear spot on the couch they could find. I drove back to my apartment and couldn't believe how the day had gone. There was plenty to think about, but not now. Not tonight. Stan called me the next day, and almost every day after that. We went to dinner about twice a week or to movies or just up more sex. He may have claimed he wasn't marriage material, but he certainly seemed to be boyfriend material. I had no idea what kind of material I was made out of now...it was brand new.

1982 It was the Summer after my 13th birthday when my dad decided I was old enough to get a job. He was in the military and hated seeing anyone not do anything. "You've wasted enough vacation time lying in your room with a book. Too late to be a real kid now, David. You're going to contribute from now on." What kind of job? I was thirteen. Was that legal? Maybe he wanted me to do something at the base he worked at...like build guns or diffuse bombs. He and I had absolutely no connection. "You'll be spending your days helping Mr. Murphy next door. He's 79 years old and needs help doing things around the house. Go to the store with him, help him make meals and keep him company. That's not so hard, is it? "No sir." I'd maybe looked him in the eye maybe three times in my life. He was pure army. I was pure pansy. The next morning Mom walked with me next door to Mr. Murphy's house. I hadn't seen him up close...ever. Picture Santa Claus on a crash diet. He had a white beard and twinkling blue eyes, but he probably didn't weigh much more than I did. I felt good things from him. Kind things. "Master David! It's so good to meet you formally!" "Hello, Mr. Murphy." "Oh, just call me Gus. I hear you've come to help me keep things ship-shape. You ready to get started? Want some cookies?" I was in a mood. I'd just started a paperback by an author called 'Stephen King' and wished so badly I could tear through it. But okay. I washed his breakfast dishes and dusted all the thousands of little corners and crevices of his living room. I knew that Mrs. Murphy had died a few years ago. Calvin Foth and I were having a water gun fight in the backyard when the ambulance came. I just assumed she'd died from being old - I didn't know there was an official cause. My mood got better as I swept and polished. Poor man. I'd have plenty of time to read my book at night. I checked out cook books from the library and tried out different recipes. Turns out I had a natural flair for cooking. I made him brownies and pies. I liked eating dinner with him much more than I liked being at my own house where Dad's mood was usually dark and scary. Mr. Murphy talked to me about his time fighting in the big war and about living in Europe. He talked most about his departed wife. The man clearly loved her. If Gus was telling a great tale, I'd come home after 10 PM. "You need to leave there sooner. That old man needs his sleep." Dad never once asked me anything about my life, he just gave commands. The bible says you have to love your parents no matter what, but I actually hated my father. Maybe the bible didn't know everything about life. Maybe it was bullshit. If I were ever brave enough to keep a diary, I'd write about what I just told you. But I knew better than to try and hide anything in this house. Gus was right in the middle of a story about hiking in Switzerland when he just paused, closed his eyes and died. I never saw death in person. The ambulance came and my Summer job ended. I cried -- even though my dad kept reminding me that he wasn't even family. Like that matters. I skipped school to attend his funeral -- which was the very start of my rebellious teen years. Dad was an asshole, and now he would start paying. I kept watering Gus's lawn and weeding his flower beds even though he wasn't there to pay me for it. I was refilling his bird feeders when a fancy car pulled into the driveway. I was technically trespassing, but Gus loved his birds. A very butch woman with short gray hair got out of the car and marched right up to me. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" I didn't even have a chance to answer. "I own this property now and you have to leave. I'm going to sell it the second as I clear all the crap out. Shoo." Crap? He had war medals in there...and like one billion framed photographs. Was this bitch his daughter? No way. He wouldn't have raised an evil toad like her. While I normally would have just silently slunk back to my house, I turned to this new owner and said "FUCK OFF!" I didn't even care if she saw my address and called my parents. I was slowly developing a spine. FIVE YEARS LATER I was in the middle of a bitter, sometimes violent battle with my father. He'd mostly ignored me since I went through puberty. I'd grown broader and taller but still had a girlish voice. I didn't know I was so obvious until I saw a videotape of myself at some wedding or something. I walked like a woman and my gestures were a little too delicate. I knew then that I was a FAG. My dad started avoiding me at all costs. It wasn't until I announced I didn't plan to go to college that he exploded and confronted me face-to-face. "What if I kicked your fairy ass right out now?! You're an adult and can go do whatever...work in a purse store maybe. I should have been wearing a rubber the whole time your mother and I slept in the same room." I just took the abuse calmly which only seemed to make him angrier. This was a nightly thing. I stopped getting haircuts at the base's barber shop and I hung around the worst of humanity, hoping for some bad influences. I smoked and shoplifted and made buddies with all the kids who had given up on a future. Just as I had. I had a full-time job that Summer and planned to find an apartment and never come back. I'd need to save up a little more money while I waited for my escape. That horrible woman kept the house for sale almost four years before giving up and replacing the sign in the yard with "For Rent". Ha! I'd been in the backyard when I overheard her bitching about what a disaster the garage was. "I found an empty shell of snakeskin that had to be five feet long. Whatever's in there can stay in there." Thank God (who I know longer believed existed) for snakes...and the busted housing market. "Did you see who rented the house next door? Some goddamn Mexican guy" Dad was so racist, but usually held his tongue because it wasn't cool to be that way with new recruits who were mostly minorities. He only exposed that ugly side to us. "I guess I should stop even taking care of the lawn. Neighborhood's gone to hell. He's got tattoos all over his damn body. All in black ink..which means he got them in prison. I've seen enough kids with those -- and they all have a record." I had to meet him. It would flat out kill my dad if I made friends with him. Didn't see him for weeks even though I was always looking for signs of the ex-con when I snuck out for cigarettes at night. Maybe I'd just start smoking in my room. What would happen? I didn't dare do it because it would hurt my mom. She was harmless, but I felt sorry for her and the life she'd had. I didn't love her, but I didn't wish her harm either. One day I noticed the new neighbor had put up some concrete religious statues in his front yard. Catholic. But he'd also set a birdbath right smack dab in the middle of the lawn. As gloomy as I was, I still got a rush of secondhand joy when I saw a sparrow or a starling enjoying a bath. Dad would not us to have a birdbath. "Those things are breeding grounds for mosquitoes." I had just started a rare three-day weekend when I decided to move closer to the new neighbor's yard. It was mid-morning. There was a little gate hidden in Mr. Murphy's overgrown hedges. I had my cigs with me and decided have one -- just on the edge of the property where I could get a closer look at things. I wondered if his birdbath already had mosquito larvae wriggling around inside. Maybe I could dump it out and fill it back up with fresh water. No. The early morning sun was too bright and exposing. I'd just finish my smoke and go back home. I saw that the backyard was as overgrown as it had ever been. I liked it being a natural habitat for all sorts of wildlife, but he'd get fined by the city if they still gave a shit about things like that. There was same old rusted out swing and the rotting picnic table. The bitch daughter had never bothered to take care of any of this. I threw my spent cigarette into dew-soaked crabgrass and prepared to go back to my room to start a new book I'd bought called "The Color of Light". "Hey!" I was busted. I thought about bolting for home, but didn't it. I really hadn't done anything wrong. It was the supposed criminal Latin man I'd been hoping to get a glimpse of. He was shorter than me and his skin was a nice even brown. Jet black hair. He was only wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts. Sure enough, he was covered with tattoos that were all in black ink...and looked very amateur. Everything added up to an attractive, dangerous man. "Sorry...I live next door and came out to sneak a smoke. I'll leave now." "No. Why. I don't know anybody here and you seem like a friend." I don't think I'd ever given off that impression before. "I really liked the old man who lived here before you moved in. He was very old and I helped him with chores and stuff." He walked closer to me., barefoot and smiling. "Yes. Is your father the military man? He does not seem to like me much, Yes?" "He's an ass. Ignore him. He's working himself into an early heart attack and I hate to say it but I can't wait." "Yes. You look a lot like him, but you don't push hate out of your pores like he does. Are you in school?" "Just graduated." "Ahh. I never got that far. I was more interested in earning money than sitting in classrooms." "What do you do?" "I..I sell things. Scrap metal mostly." I didn't even know if that was a real thing, but he didn't seem dishonest. "I do a lot of things. God, this wet grass feels so good under my feet. It feels like freedom." "You do some time?" God, that was too abrupt and too rude. "Oh sure. Who hasn't?" I then noticed the security ankle bracelet he was wearing. "I'm Jorge (pronounced 'hor-hay') by the way." "David. It's really good to finally meet you." "If you need some extra money, I could pay you to help me get this place cleaned up. The garage is full of shit." I already knew that. "Well I work as a manager at Food World, but I've got three days off now. My dad's mower won't be able to cut all those tall weeds, but I can help you find you somebody who can. "I know plenty of amigos who can handle the yard. I need help with the garage and the basement. We can start as soon as you're ready." "Whenever, Jorge." I wondered if that was even his real name. "First things first. I always need to get stoned before I start the day. You smoke?" "Oh yeah." Total lie. "Good. I can pay you in weed or money -- whatever works best for you. It's good shit." "Weed is good," I said in a fake voice. It would be the pinnacle of my teen rebellion. My dad would be so enraged. "OK. This stuff is a little damp so it's hard to keep lit." I had zero idea what it felt like to be high. Maybe I could fake it. Jorge used intense concentration to light the 'fatty' (what he called it). He huffed and breathed in deeply and noisily. Like a viper hissing. I imitated his moves and noises, but didn't actually inhale too much. The taste reminded me of the incense they burned in the bookstore I went to sometimes. Jorge didn't buy it. "No. I should have known you didn't smoke. I met your papa the other day and he would probably murder you if you smoked pot." "You met him?" "Yes. I was outside enjoying the fresh air when I saw him walking to his big car. I saluted him, but he frowned and looked away." "Shit. You're not supposed to salute an officer unless you're in the service as well." "I don't think he likes my skin color either." God, this guy had some intuition about people. Maybe he honed that skill in prison. He continued to exhale his clouds as I stood there like a six-year old holding a yo-yo. "So he's a captain or a general or something?" "Something like that. I have never cared enough to listen to him talk about his job." "That must be something....a dad like him with a son like you." I did and didn't know what he meant by that. I'd tried as best I could to butch up and make my voice deeper, but my gay vibe must be broadcasting anyway. Really nice, kind people act like they don't notice, but I know they do, "He's pretty much a monster...and my mom is a walking corpse most of the time. I don't think either of them has ever hugged me. We're basically just roommates." "Never hugged? That sucks. My pop was a drunk, but mama loved me to death. I hate that you don't know what that feels like." And then he reached around me and hugged me. His tatted-up arms were strong and his chest felt so warm. I had no words. He stepped back and looked me in the eye. "Now you have been hugged,David." I tried to say 'Thank You', but all that came out was "Thaaaa..." "You ever shotgun?" Fuck. He was talking about guns now. "Since you don't know how to smoke, I'll do it for you." He inhaled deeply from the fatty and planted his lips directly on mine. Was it my gayness that caused me to open my mouth and put a hand on his back? "Breathe in as deep as if you were about to go underwater." Okay. I understood now. But we had kissed in the technical sense of the word. "Better, yes?" "I don't feel high." "You will. One more time?" I nodded. We repeated that magic moment and I held him a little closer. I could kiss this little man forever. "I think I'm feeling it now." Or was I? Was this like Nyquil where you had to wait a half hour before you felt it? "Good. I need to take a whiz and then we'll tackle the garage." He wandered a little ways into the tall weeds and let his shorts drop to his ankles -- as if just pulling down the front would have taken more effort. Whatever. I a least got to see his tiny brown butt ...nude. I'd usually kept all my jack-off fantasies on the idea of a big, hard penis. It had never occurred to me to appreciate the male ass for the beautiful thing it was. Wow. He turned his head around and seemed pleased that I was watching. He knew exactly what he was doing - and so did I. I'm glad my t-shirt was so baggy and hanging low because I had a wicked erection. "OK. I'll open up the door and let the dust out a little, scare the spiders away." He was all business now. It made me feel a little better that he knew what to do because I was floating and listening to all the neurons in my brain firing randomly. So this is what pot did. I felt weak and sleepy. And hungry. I couldn't go back on my word and go home for a nap now. I had to remember how my normal David self acted. I think I got the walking down pretty good, but didn't dare say a word out loud. Too chancy. "It has an automatic door opener, but that fat bitch didn't give me the remote. It's no big deal, though." He squatted and lifted the door effortlessly. I saw the muscles in his back work. He had to have lifted weights while locked up. There probably wasn't much else to do there. Dust and old smells came rushing out the opening. I'm sure Gus's daughter had sold anything of value in there...despite the monster snakes. I either told Jorge or thought about telling him to be careful. Wonderful midday sun streamed in and shined upon stuff that probably hadn't seen light in over a decade. Holy Hell! There were so many cardboard boxes and random tools...all covered with years of dust. Buckets, crates and about two billion paint cans. "Shit, Jorge. How are we going to clear this out and get rid of it?" "Just put all the useless shit in the driveway for now. I have a guy coming to haul it off." I could have been a good boy scout and told him that a lot of the stuff in here couldn't go to the regular dump because it was classified as 'toxic'. I kept quiet. I was amazed that he's come inside this squalid crypt barefoot. "You should probably put some shoes on, man. There's nails and other sharp crap on the floor." "Yes. I think I'll put on some long jeans and a shirt too. Why don't you go home real quick and change into your crummiest clothes and we can start." I hurried home and found Mom vacuuming without really looking at the floor. She was lost to her private,sad thoughts. My rattiest jeans had holes at the knees and other bare spots developing on the butt. I found some old high-tops that had seen better days, and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Gloves? It would probably be a good idea to find some work gloves, but I wanted to get back to Jorge as soon as possible. "Hello?" He wasn't in the garage. I'd wait. He didn't seem the type to fuss with changing clothes. After a few minutes of me just standing there and remembering stuff. Maybe Jorge had left for some reason. I decided to get started with the massive stacks of paint cans. They didn't slosh at all -- mainly because they had aged into solid rock. When they were finally all out and stacked in the driveway, I decided to start in on the cardboard boxes. I found old newspapers and magazines and tons of random receipts. One of them was full of old photographs. Many of them were of a young girl in a party dress or sitting atop a pony or at some amusement park. Was this that bitch daughter of his? He'd put them here among the trash which was where she belonged. They probably had a falling-out at some point. Gus was too good and kind, but even people like that know when to throw out a piece of rotten fruit. Just as I picked up the final box, the king of snakes whipped by me. Bull Snake. He or she had been keeping mice out of this place for a long time. I watched the snake wriggle out into the front yard. So long. After sifting out tools (some of them looked like they'd never been used) that I thought Jorge might find useful, I was feeling a little dehydrated. I needed water and needed to release water at the same time. Was he ever coming back? What time was it? I started to get a little pissed-off. There was a door from the garage to the house and I wondered if it was unlocked. It was. I was now back in Mr. Murphy's kitchen where I'd seen him die. I'd get a glass of water and pee in the sink if I had to. Then I'd go home. Fuck this. The TV was on and the air was fragrant with weed smoke. He'd been in here the whole time. I had every right to find him and ask what the hell was going on. There was Jorge, completely naked and passed out on the couch in a sitting position with his feet up on the coffee table. Goddammit. I would have been more angry except that now I had a chance to see him nude. He was muscular and compact. His dick was impressively fat and uncut. I'd only ever seen one or two penises that had extra skin like that. Two Hispanic kids in my gym class had been left intact as nature intended. I got a chance to study the tattoos up close. There were some weird symbols and random Spanish words. Damned if I knew what they meant because I'd taken French instead of Spanish in school. My dad hated French people as well as anything or anyone European. One of the tats said 'Property of V.L.P'. The TV was showing some bizarre game show where people were pulling levers and trying to get a good poker hand on a big video screen. I sat carefully on the couch and watched because I knew a lot about poker from all the shady pals I'd made over the last few years. Jorge muttered and snored. Next to his left foot was a half-smoked joint in an ashtray. I had my own lighter and so I snagged it and lit up. I had a better idea how to smoke this on my own now. I remembered that I had some days off, and it felt good to relax a little. I kept inhaling and exhaling my clouds. The TV wasn't all that big, but it filled my eyes. I picked a player to root against which is what my dad always did during 'Wheel of Fortune'. He usually wanted a minority to lose. I was practically inside of the show when it went to commercial for margarine. They showed a promo for the five o'clock news that ended with 'coming up next'. Dad would be home soon. It was that late already? Jorge was still sleeping soundly. I took the opportunity to study more of his tats. There was plus sign on his shoulder that I hadn't seen before. My stupid brain thought it meant he was optimistic and thought positive thoughts. I'd ask later. Would he wake up if I just barely touched that big dick of his? I couldn't stop my fingers. It reminded of the bull snake in a way. It seemed to react to my finger. Was I way stoned or did it jump a little? What if I touched it with my mouth? He was very obviously still deeply asleep. I knelt on the floor and moved my mouth over to his groin. I kissed all that extra skin. The thing moved again. Maybe he'd appreciate this. So I put the whole end of his penis into my mouth. The dick got harder and heavier on my tongue. I looked up and saw that his eyes were still shut. I was plum amazed at the flavors I tasted...a trace of soap, sweat, pot and a few other things I couldn't name. I moved on down the shaft and involuntarily gagged a bit. I hoped the sound from my throat didn't wake him, but didn't check. He sounded as if he were dreaming. "Si. Si.", "So nice.", "Don't stop now." I would take advantage of him and earn my pay for an afternoon of hard work. I badly wanted to make him to ejaculate and thought I could coax it out with my mouth. Did I want that? Did I really want a man's semen in my mouth? I'd deal with that if and when the time came. I worked the length of his dick I knew I could handle comfortably and used my mouth like it was a masturbating hand. Yeah...I wanted his dick so much -- and everything that came out of it. "No. Stop, David." Shit! He was awake. I pulled away immediately like I'd been caught stealing. I felt so embarrassed and guilty. I still had all my clothes on and could just make a run out the front door. Would he kill me? Tell my dad? "Bye. The garage is half empty now." He seemed shocked and disappointed. "Leaving? Why? That was fun." "I..I..." I had no words left. "Please don't go. I'll get us a few beers and even make dinner if you want." I stood there and watched his hard dick bob up and down as he yawned and stretched. At that very second, there was the sound of a car door closing nearby. Dad was home. He'd be walking in the door and asking Mom where I was. She'd stand there mutely as he went upstairs to change, radiating oppressive vibes throughout the whole house. I still couldn't make words, but I did sit down as Jorge got up and went into the kitchen. His boner had lost a little of its heft. "You really did half the job already? Wow. I'm sorry I left you alone. I am a pig sometimes." He returned with two bottles of cold 'Corona'. "You were probably just tired from moving in. My family has moved several times and it can be stressful." "Poor kid. I owe you overtime pay and a bonus. We'll work that out in a little while. Maybe cream? You want my cream, yes?" I almost didn't know what he meant. But. OK. "Whatever you think is fair." "Life is not fair. I'm an expert, kid." He took a long pull from his beer and put his bare feet back on the little table. I noticed the ankle bracelet again. He must be on parole or probation or something. "What did you do, Jorge?" "Many things, many bad things. Remember how you told me that you don't salute an officer if you're not in the military? It's like that with us, too. You don't ever ask that question unless you've done time as well." I'd never heard that. "Sorry." "It's okay, man. I'll just tell you that I never killed anyone. More details later." "Again -- I'm sorry. The biggest snake in the world is now out of your garage," "How big?" "BIG. Like maybe six and a half feet long. He might have some friends in there, but I doubt it. Snakes are pretty much loners." "Good, good. So you came in for a break and decided to suck my dick?" "No. I... I don't know. I just...." "Hush. I know. I been locked up long enough to know that gay guys love cock. I might be gay even, but never really had much of a chance to find out. Not two days after I got to prison, I was raped in the ass. Little guys like me are hot property behind bars. I was owned by a guy named "Virgo" for awhile. I worked out to compensate for my little size and only the biggest guys bothered me." "..." I thought about how hard his life had been. "I never had a girlfriend or a boyfriend...or went on a date." I noticed he had moved his hand down to his crotch. His stare was intimidating. "What happened to Virgo?" "He got real sick and was moved to the floor where they keep sick people. Lot of AIDS there. He might be dead for all I know." I don't know how he managed a full boner while saying all that, but he did. "Do you hate him?" "Oh yes. I wanted to make him hurt the way he made me hurt. I wanted to destroy him, get revenge." His boner got a bit more red and longer. "I'm here anytime, Jorge." That wasn't what I meant to say, but I was still the slightest bit off my verbal game. "Si. You're here now. Leave this room and come in again. Take your shoes off. Socks too." I was wondering if he had the AIDS virus too, but it was kinda late to ask that now. I took a few deep breaths and returned to the living room. There was Jorge, completely nude and hard -- with dark sunglasses on now. I padded closer to him until he said "Stop." "Fresh meat! You are about to be owned. Any idea what that means, asshole?" I didn't. Or maybe I did. My mind was no longer clouded with weed, and I should have been able to say something. "ANSWER ME!" "No,Sir. I do not. I'm sorry." "Save it. I guess I'll just have to show you. Stand still." I wondered what the fuck I'd gotten into. He stepped up right to me, and even though he was shorter than me, he seemed huge and intimidating. I could feel heat radiating from him. His strong hands groped me in very impolite ways and his fat little fingers worked their way through some of the threadbare places on my old jeans. He seemed especially interested in the hole that had almost developed over the crack of my ass. Oh hell. I should have guessed what he wanted: Prison Sex. And revenge. He was being a little too rough for a reason. I guess I'd asked for it. Jorge had found his way through the hole in the denim covering my butt. I hadn't put on underwear that morning and his stubby finger found its way right to my puckered hole. He pushed it in and I protested a little. Too soon. Too much. "Shut the fuck up! You'll wake up the whole block!" He was in the middle of his own private revenge fantasy. The fantasy I wanted to give him. But he was different now. He was an angry inmate all of the sudden. I'd play it by ear. "No! STOP! Don't!" "Shut up, New Meat!" He pulled my pants all the way down and started probing my ass with the wet head of his cock. He was going to put that fat thing of his inside of my body. Through the butt. Whoa. He spit on his erection and inserted it right through that opening down there. GODDAMN! It hurt and I screamed loudly. He could have gone into my nostril and it wouldn't have hurt like this. "Scream again and I'll snap your neck. Shut up and get used to it." He might have been lost in anger, but he did make an effort to go slower and easier. He was coming down from his anger just a little, straddling two realities. My lips kept shut tight and stifled the yelps. He pumped in and out and said some harsh words in Spanish. He and I were in different places. "I'm gonna give you your bonus now, David. Ready?" I wasn't Virgo anymore. He had gotten that part done with the initial ritual of insults and pain. "You wanted my cream! You wanted thi...FUCK!" He convulsed on my back as I was bent over in Mr. Murphy's old living room. He'd cum inside of me...this tattooed ex-con with who-knows-what in his bloodstream had just put his unsheathed dick up my ass and spurted his DNA all the way up into my guts. I didn't have a boner at this point, but felt satisfied nonetheless. How does that even work? I felt stupid that I hadn't also ejaculated. Would Jorge be mad? "Thank you." Did I really just say that? I felt like a kid. "No," he panted. "That went too far. Fuck. I'm so sorry, David." "Just far enough, Jorge."' "You think that now, but you'll regret that I violated your body the way I did." "Future and time are just concepts. I'm happy now." He was still naked and his dick looked used and streaked with my blood. "OK. I appreciate the work you did today. Go home and sleep now. If you feel like it, we can do the rest of the garage tomorrow...and I won't bail on you again. Promise." "Cool. See you soon." I was fully undressed and alone in my bed when I let myself think that I'd maybe been infected with AIDS. No amount of Flintstones vitamin could change that. I just wanted too see him again. I wasn't high anymore and don't think I'd ever opened the single beer he'd given me. Where was my usual panic and dread? I was almost always anxious about one thing or another. but not now. Not tonight. As soon as I discovered that this foreign peace was easily settling over my bones, sleep snuck in and I was gone. Dreaming..., and ready to go back for more. I would have too, but he was gone by the next morning. At the breakfast table, Dad said "Well the cops came and picked up that little slime-ball next door. He was cuffed and hauled away." "For what?" "Damned if I know. Scum like that can't seem to keep out of prison once they've been in. It's probably easier to live off tax dollars than to go out and get a real job." I'd finally moved out and gotten my own place by the end of Summer. It wasn't much, but it was better than being around my dad. I kept asking shady-looking people if they knew anything about Jorge, but he'd simply vanished. I didn't know his last name. I came down with a really intense flu in August. My dad - who never had any sympathy for anyone - was alarmed enough to take me to the emergency room after my fever spiked and I couldn't get out of bed. I found Jorge at last...inside of me.

Note: I usually try to post complete stories and then move on to something else, but I got a few responses from members who thought there needed to be more, that it was incomplete as it was. (I appreciate all comments -- even the negative ones) I started in on new characters and new adventures, but "Bull" kept creeping into my head and I realized I missed him. So here it is -- the last chapter of Ken and and Bull's story. Well Christmas break was eventful, but nice. I brought my new man home to meet the parents in Connecticut. I only gave Mom a few days notice, but she seemed delighted that I'd made a good 'friend'. On the unbearably long flight from Phoenix to Hartford, Bull held my hand and acted like an actual boyfriend. It was a weird transition time for us because he'd pretty much established himself as the alpha male during our stay in the hotel. He was in control, but had acted like we were Joannie and Chachi since then. He was romantic and gentle. A southern gentleman. I wasn't complaining. We'd kept our fooling around to a minimum during finals week. I went to the library and researched as much as I could about HIV and AIDS. Apparently, you could get infected and tests wouldn't show anything for up to 90 days. The newly infected generally came down with a really bad flu a few weeks after they are exposed. I hoped it didn't happen during our trip. Talk about coal in your stocking... Of course Bull charmed the hell out of my parents. My dad - a businessman - wanted to know all about his father's cattle operation and the overall economy in Texas. I just let him shine while I noticed how little things had changed in only five months. Different TV, different sofa, some new candles here and there. My old room was full of boxes and stuff that made it unusable for now. Mom put us up in the guest room. "The mattress is new, but we never got around to putting a television in there. I'm sorry." We'd be sleeping in the same bed. If they only knew. We were almost snowed in when our flight was scheduled to leave for Dallas. We barely made it out. Bull was holding my hand again. We'd had no sex of any kind in my house...even as we were lying inches apart in the dark. "You didn't have to get my parents Christmas presents." He'd given them nicer gifts than I had. He gave me a really nice black cowboy hat that I wouldn't wear until we were in Texas. "That's what a good guest does. Your mama was thrilled with that amethyst necklace. Purple. It's a royal gemstone." Texas was everything I thought it would be. Big, American and Boastful. It was also very appealing to my artist's eye. The sky was so big and the landscape was so flat. You could put a simple red box on the ground and it would look meaningful. I had to take a photography class next semester and was always looking at things that would photograph well and get me an 'A'. I may have had sex with an HIV + man and dedicated my life to him, but I was still an honor student inside. SECOND SEMESTER As crummy as our dorm was, I was glad to be back inside of it. I really wasn't a New England kid anymore and not a Texan either. This place I shared with Bull was home -- in every sense of the word. Mom had given me a wall calendar with cute photos of pigs in it. Why? I have no idea. I put it up where my 1991 one had been. I was anxious for more weeks to pass so I could go to the student health center and get an HIV test. Two and a half more months. I put away the new sketchbooks and art supplies Bull had given me and unpacked. My jeans were getting a little tight at the waist. Between my mom's cooking and all the Texas BBQ I ate, I'd probably put on some needed weight. "I think we're the first ones back. I doubt the dining hall is open. Let's go out to eat...what's your pleasure? Never mind. I know where I want to go. We'll have some drinks to erase the jet lag. Wear your new hat...you look good in it." Sure. Cowboy hats weren't so unusual in Arizona. I kind of liked how I looked wearing it. I also sprayed on some of the new cologne he'd bought me -- getting rid of the airplane smell. "Your hair is growing in nicely, Babe." I had no idea where he wanted to go eat, but I used the silence of the short journey to initiate a conversation. "Hey, Bull...did you talk to me while I was asleep during the trip?" "Every night. You start talking a few minutes after your head hits the pillow. Weird. I answer you and try to make you feel better about things, your concerns." "Oh..like what?" But he couldn't answer right away because we were at "Bucky's" -- a pretty popular bar and grill. Maybe I didn't want an answer. Once we were seated and Bull had ordered drinks, he looked right into my eyes. "I know everything about you. Never forget that, Babe." I felt a chill. "You are worried about getting AIDS. I thought we'd already cleared all that up. I don't have it, OK? I'm a clean, healthy Texan. Do you think we would have done any of the stuff we did if I thought it would harm you?" This sounded so familiar...he'd probably said it to me several times while I was asleep. OK. He presumed his body had killed the virus -- even though the best drugs in the world couldn't. I'd just concede this argument. Life is a roll of the dice. I didn't want to get him mad at me again so I made my face relaxed and smiled as genuinely as I could. We ate cheeseburgers and drank. A lot. We'd only had some beers at his ranch a few times. I still wasn't sure how much alcohol it took to loosen my tongue enough to say the things I wanted to. "Remember how you told me you couldn't make me do anything I didn't want to do?" "I remember. It's still true." "Have you tried? I mean -- it's not like I want to start thinking I'm a coyote or anything. But have you tried pushing it a little?" "Maybe. What exactly do you mean?" We came across an actual rattlesnake during our visit to Texas. It was all coiled up and shaking its tail's noisemaker as a warning. Bull wanted to crush it with a rock or something but I just wanted to stare at him in awe. Right now, however, I felt as if I'd stepped on a metaphorical rattlesnake...or was about to. "I want to get a little depraved eventually. Do absolutely anything you want to do." "I've kind of been working on that already. I sure as hell wouldn't mind mixing things up a little. I didn't need your permission, but I appreciate the willingness to please me." "I ..." and the words ran out. He had the ability to render me a mute at times. "Patience. Patience and trust are what I need from you now. Classes don't start for four days and we'll have plenty of time to test some boundaries. Are you still going to take that photography class?" "Yep. It's expensive as hell. They give us the film and the chemicals, but we have to buy the photo paper and a camera. Dad slipped me enough cash to get what I need." "So you'll do all the developing and printing yourself? Nobody else will see your pictures?" "Well. The darkroom is always open. I'd normally want to go when it was quiet. Why?" "Patience. I'll fill you in on something when the time comes." More drinks. The talk turned less serious. "My parents really liked you, by the way. Especially Dad. You are definitely a 'man's man'." "I really liked them too. And your cute little town. Just seeing the place you grew up and the streets you rode your bike on -- it was enlightening." I was so glad the tone of the tone of our talk had slipped back into casual mode. Bull was my best friend first and foremost. "Remember the rattlesnake? I was just thinking of him. Snakes are amazing...all reptiles fascinate me. They give no fucks about us unless we mess with them." "Ever eaten rattlesnake?" He knew damn good and well I never had. "Are you going to be OK to drive?" His face was flushed. "Oh yeah. I'm just thinking about things.. Let's go." On the drive back to the dorm, I let him brood in silence with no interruptions. We were talked out I guess. It's funny how much I used to dread the start of school, but now I was really looking forward to it. I was taking a class just called "Color 1" and had no idea what that would involve. I wondered if I should go buy a camera now or wait until the professor gave guidelines. I'd wait. I was getting so good at putting things off. Back in the room, Bull chucked his boots and stretched out on the bed. "Give me a minute to rest my eyes and then I'll go get something caffeinated from the vending machine. Don't let me sleep too long." I switched on the TV and muted it while he rested. I was getting used to just seeing movies without hearing them. Maybe I'd become an expert lip-reader. After he started to snore a bit, I decided to wake him. Not just because he'd asked me to, but because I missed his company. No. Wait. I'd go get him a Mountain Dew from the machine downstairs first. When I returned he'd already awakened. I gave him the soda. "I heard you leave and knew you were getting me a coffee or something. How would you have woken me if I was still sleeping?" "By groping your crotch, most likely." "Good. That's my little, horny teenager." He drained the Dew and put the empty can on the floor. He knew I'd pick it up and throw it away because I was always cleaning up after him. I liked doing that even though I wasn't exactly a 'neat freak'. Maybe he'd said something to me in my sleep...maybe he'd given me orders to take care of details he didn't want to bother with. I was happy to be allowed to take care of him in any way I could. "You can turn the volume up on the TV a little. I like this movie." 'The Breakfast Club'. No matter how basic your cable package is, that movie is almost always showing somewhere. "I saw this at the drive-in with some slut who was giving me a hand-job the whole time. I missed a lot of the story." I remember my little pals and I seeing this at a Saturday matinee. Afterwards, we all tried to decide which character was most like each of us. I was immediately labeled as 'Brian', but I felt more like 'Allison'. Which one was Bull? Probably the jock. I didn't ask him, though. He was allowing us to watch TV with the volume up. He was being generous. It was the kind of thing he did when he wanted some intimacy. If he brought me a Diet Coke, I knew we were going to fuck. Well, guess what he did during the next commercial break? Yep. "Here, Babe. It's a little reward for putting on a few pounds. I bought some for me too...because I really need to lose weight." "No. You're perfect." I meant it. "You just see me as I want you to see me. I don't have that luxury. You drew so many great pictures of me, and I'd look at them and think 'If I really looked that way I'd quit school and become a model'." He let me drink about half of my soda before he spiked it with some rum he produced out of nowhere. Yeah, fucking would happen. I'd put a small 'x' on my new calendar on March 7th. That would be enough for tests to show if I had HIV in my blood. If we fucked again, I'd have to wait even longer. "They sure talk a lot in this movie. No wonder I don't remember anything about it." He stood up and switched on his fancy stereo which had never once happened before. Not ever. He fiddled around and I heard the familiar start of a Nirvana song. Wow! He was rewarding me big time. "God. I'm 16 again." I'm so happy cuz today I found my friends, they're in my head. "It's just sounds so sad, and I don't want to ever think of you as sad. I get it, though." "I was inspired by this band. I didn't feel sad when I listened to it. I felt understood." "Yeah. Cool. Need a refill?" I didn't, but he took the opportunity to go do something other than watch the rest of the movie -- which is way more talky than I remembered. He brought back the can and lingered right in front of me. His crotch was level with my nose for a second. Oh yeah! I remember how big and hard his dick could get! I wanted to see it and feel it so much. Of course he could read my every thought and started stripping. He was just down to his white jockey briefs and the fat maroon head of his penis was sticking over the top. I dared to touch the glistening slit. Yum! "You like that, Babe?" "You know I do." "I know everything. Never forget that. Finish your drink and we'll talk." Talk? I was so ready to blow him right then, but I knew better than to try and rush things. I guzzled the now warm rum and coke and almost choked. Bull knew how eager I was. Proper decorum must be followed (a Southern thing, I guess) and I didn't want to push my luck. "What do you want to talk about?" "Let's sit on the floor. You keep this place so clean, I don't even get dirty soles when I walk barefoot." I didn't mind sitting on the floor for this fireside chat. "OK." "A couple of things....". He belched. "One: I know what the mark on your 1992 calendar means. It's the day you're going to the student health center to get an AIDS test. You are biding your time until you know for sure...even though I already told you several times that you're in no danger. Two: I'm going to have to try a new approach with you. We're going to fuck on a regular basis -- until you're so full of cum, there's no more room for your silly doubts. Questions?" I felt guilty and looked down. "No." "Get ready,Babe. Were going to do it animal style now." I wasn't sure exactly what he meant until he forcibly pulled off my clothes and positioned me on my hands and knees. Oh. He was going to do it from behind. "It'll go nicer this way. There won't be as much pain since I've already broken you. I don't have lube this time, though. Sorry about that." I took a deep breath as his slimy head bobbed up and down along my crack. There was no teasing this time around -- he just pushed right in. FUCK! It was like it was my first time all over again. I screamed, but he was ready for that. His big, hairy hand went over my mouth to stifle the noise. "Hush, Babe. I waited too long and now you're all tight again. We won't have this problem tomorrow. I'll try to make this quick. Hold on." And he pumped furiously. I was helpless and not exactly enjoying this. I'd sacrifice whatever just to pleasure Bull. My knees hurt from the hard floor and the significant weight on top of me. I was just a portal now. I was just a way for him to get off, and that was all fine with me. He was hitting a spot inside of me that felt painfully good. SHIT ! He hammered away at what I now know was my prostate. I was so close to cumming....but I was not allowed. I knew he had to cum in me first. And then he did. "GODDAMN! FUCK! I'm breeding you again!" He was all sweaty again and smelled wonderful. He collapsed on my back and it was so nice. I was reminded of our first time..how his itchy, hairy mass felt as it covered my prone body. We gathered ourselves a little. I had had sex twice now..with a man who might have HIV. He might claim he was clean, but I still had my doubts. 'The Breakfast Club' had finally ended and we awkwardly sat and waited for the next movie. "Go take a mini-shower, Babe. There's some blood on the floor, but you'll take care of that tomorrow." I put on my robe and took a towel with me. I sat on the toilet forever. I pushed out a bunch of cum and blood. I may have cheated the virus last year, but it surely took root this time. I took a longer shower than I'd planned. I started all my new classes and was so stimulated by what I was learning. I saw the same models I'd drawn in the first semester, and, except for a few new tattoos, they looked the same. I wish they were beefy and sexy like Bull, but nobody consulted me on the matter. We had anal sex every night and I started to worry that I was getting too loose and sloppy down there. His giant dick had ruined me for anybody else. In my "Color 1" class, I usually wound up sitting next to the same cute guy. His name was Bruce, and he was adorable. He was my age and my height and so friendly. As much as I loved Bull, I couldn't help but wonder what a relationship with someone who was my equal would be like...someone who didn't control me or have a disease. I had to smother that idea before it evolved into something I'd say in my sleep. Bull was still talking to me when I slept. I knew it because I'd sometimes wake up and hear his words.... "And you like it." I answered as if I were still deep in slumber. "I do" "Good." I don't know what it was that I said I liked, but whatever. I'd find out eventually, I guess. A few days later, I knew what I'd been wanting. Every time Bull announced that he had to go pee, I'd follow him into the bathroom. I wanted to see the stream come out of his fleshy snake. He pretended not to notice my new interest. I'd often stand beside him and watch. When the place was empty, I'd put a finger in the warm,yellow flow. He saw that. "I want to piss in your mouth tonight." "Yes. I want that, Bull." And a few drinks later, we decided to go for it. "Wait. I want my bladder to be bursting. I'll have Larry guard the door for us." "Who?" "He's the speed freak a few doors down. He's always awake and he owes me a few favors. Stay here." "Well...?" "He was shooting up the stuff with his door unlocked. He said he'd not let anybody into the bathroom for as long as we were in there. He asked me if he should bring his gun -- I said 'no'. Can you even believe somebody like that is allowed to even buy a firearm? Fuck." I was silent and patient. I didn't care about guns or drugs at this point. I silently wished for him to drink more liquids. "I'm getting used to Diet Coke, Babe. The chemicals must be changing my brain just like I changed yours. At least I know you belong to me -- and not that cute frat dude in your color class." Shit! I had no secrets of my own anymore. "I'd never do anything with him or anybody else, Bull." "I know, horny kid. Sit somewhere else in that class from now on." "Yes, Sir." "Wow. You've never called me that before. I think I like it. You are so beaten down now that you can't say my name. I either love that or hate it. We'll see." His pal Larry stood right outside the door as Bull took me into the far shower stall. We were naked and he had me kneel down on the cold tile, right at his feet. I noticed he'd kept his toenails neatly groomed since I'd trimmed them while we were at his Texas ranch. I was a little sorry that he'd not grown them out more. Just then a splash of his warm pee hit the back of my neck. It was more hot than warm. His body temperature was always pretty high. He soaked my hair and then pulled my head backwards to hit me in the face with the splash. "Open your goddamn mouth." When I complied, he loaded my mouth with that super-heated, smelly liquid. I swallowed as much as I could, but a lot of it spilled out. over my lips. I was being baptized, cowboy style. I choked a little and he went back to hosing down my hair. I was grateful for every drop. "OK. I'm done. Was it everything you hoped for?" I coughed a little and it occurred to me that I might throw up, but that would offend Bull. "Yes. Thank you." "Let's rinse off a little. The night's not over." We showered together which was not nearly as erotic as movies make it seem. Bull stepped out first while I remained, wanting to get rid of any trace of urine odor. "What the fuck are you doing in here??!" I hadn't heard him sound so angry before. Larry had come inside to watch us with his dick out. Busted. He zipped up his ratty jeans and stepped back a few feet. "Sorry, man. That was fuckin' hot. Maybe I can join in sometime?" "Turn around while Ken gets out of the shower and puts his robe on," he said in a less threatening tone. I don't think I've ever felt so embarrassed in my life. I dried off as fast as I could and got my robe tied tightly around me. Bull was still standing there, sopping wet with his fists clenched. I got his towel and started drying him, silently communicating my wish that he not kill this guy. He'd go to jail. "OK. Thanks, Babe. Should we invite him to party with us?" What? Was he serious? "Um...Sure. Why not?" "Come to our room in about thirty minutes, and don't bring any of your drug shit with you." "Deal." I was struck mute as we walked back. Once inside our cozy space, I spoke up. "Bull? I changed my mind. I don't want him here." "Yeah -- I changed my mind too. I thought it would be cool to watch you two fuck each other, but not anymore. You can't catch anything from me but you could possibly catch all kinds of shit from him. He's a druggie who uses needles after all. I'll take care of it when he comes to the door. Relax while I get you a drink. Don't get dressed." Relief flooded over me. I'd only ever want Bull. "I'm surprised that you were so ready to just share me with someone else." "I seem to remember some guy telling me he wanted to get a little depraved. I've been in threesomes with men and women several times. It can be hot, but that was my past -- not my present." "Wow...this is more rum than Coke, Bull." "I figured you'd want to wash that taste out of your mouth." He grinned. "I was really into it. I hope we can do it again soon." A knock at the door. Larry was here for some fun. "Hold that thought." I heard Bull tell the guy I wasn't feeling good after swallowing so much piss. "OK. I think I need a little rest now. Finish your drink, then turn off the TV and go to bed." 'Steel Magnolias' was on. I watched it while Bull went to sleep and I finished the rum and coke quickly because I had some thinking and dreaming to do. I never felt more safe in the dark than when Bull was near. I was hitting a really good stride as the semester progressed. Before I knew it, March 7th was here. I was dedicated to every class and did so much work. Bull fucked me on a fairly regular basis and it became truly pleasurable, hardly any bleeding except for the one or two times he got extra rough. I hadn't had that infamous AIDS Flu I'd read about, but I did get a severely sorely throat a few weeks ago. Bull took care of me like my mom would. I had dark circles under my eyes at times, but I was sure that was from not sleeping enough. I had mixed feelings about being tested, but I needed to know. The student health center was in a fairly new building and full of kids with the regular flu and/or scrapes and cuts from drunken episodes. I had to show my university I.D. which meant there was no way this would be anonymous. Fuck. I hadn't even thought of that, but there was no turning back now. I didn't touch any of the magazines and waited only a few minutes before my name was called. The doctor or technician or whatever she was sat me down and asked intimate questions that I really wasn't prepared for. "Let me save you some time," I finally said. "I've been having unsafe sex with a man who has been exposed to HIV. My blood and his semen have made contact multiple times." She blinked a few times. "I see. Are you prepared for a positive result? Do you have a support system in place. We have counselors you can talk to anytime -- free." I assured her I had a very good support system but I didn't tell her it consisted solely of my HIV+ boyfriend. I just wanted to get tested and leave. I guess she knew that because she just put on a pair of latex gloves and drew some blood. "I'm sending you home with some literature about AIDS and some condoms." That was it. I had to wait a week for the results which I could only get in person. FUCK. A phone call wouldn't work? No. I walked all the way back to the dorm and didn't notice a single detail. Of course Bull was in the room. I needed some alone time in the worst way. "Well?" "Well what?" "I know you went and got tested today. You've still got the band-aid on your arm." I wasn't in any kind of mood to chat or even deal be around him right now. "Yeah. I did it for both of us, Bull. I know you're healthy, but I'm not fully Texan yet. I need a nap, OK? We can talk later." He was completely silent and just nodded. I slept soundly for an hour while he busied himself with whatever. I awoke to Bull holding a big bag of fast food for us. "I'm not hungry, Bull." "You need to eat...you're starting to lose weight again. Sit up and talk to me." Fine. I arranged myself as he handed me a regular coke. Ice cold. "I know you must feel betrayed, but I'm scared. I don't even know what I'll do if it turns out I'm positive. I'm so scared I feel like crying." "I know. I've tried like hell to talk you down from that while you slept, but I guess it didn't work. I hate not being able to comfort you. When will you know the results?" "Not until next week. And I have to go there and get the news in person. Next week -- during midterms." And then the tears came. I cried and lost control for a few minutes. "You need a drink, Babe." God. Was alcohol his only 'go-to'?? Fine. As upset as I was, I wanted to pass out drunk for a week. Fuck my classes. He tried to pour some rum into my coke, but I took the bottle from his hand and took a big swallow.I was being rude, but he understood. "Go easy. You have an empty stomach." "Rum has a lot of calories -- it's made from sugarcane, right? Let's just talk like it was an ordinary evening. Can we turn on the TV?" "Sure, Babe." He switched on the TV and found a channel that was showing a documentary about apes. "How was your day?" I was from that old school of thought where you had to stop dwelling on yourself by caring for others. "Well....I don't know if you want to hear this, but Larry's dead. Overdose. I was just walking in to the building when the ambulance came. No sirens. He had already passed on a day ago. I guess the R.A. found him. There's a floor meeting tonight, mandatory but I already got us out of it. Shit. That guy. Danced with the devil one too many times." "Wow. Tell me one good thing that happened to you today." "I woke up early and saw you sleeping so deeply, hugging your pillow. It filled me with love and peace." He continued to talk tenderly as I got stupid drunk. Finally. I could sink into the abyss of sleep for awhile. By the next week, I had regained some of my abilities to function. I kept my head down and plodded along until it was finally time to go get my test results back. You've probably already guessed that I was HIV+. For real. I felt okay. At least that's what I told the woman who broke the news to me. "You may go through a period of shock, numbness. Let me give you a list of doctors. I'm sure you have many questions and I'll answer as many as I can." "No. I know a lot already because I pretty much expected this outcome." I just left her office and walked through the lobby. All these dumb kids with their minor issues...none of them would get a death sentence today. I was not only ill, but thinking jerk thoughts. There's no way I could ever tell my parents...I'd rather jump off a tall building. I knew Bull would find out eventually. What would he do, what would he feel? He'd just have to discuss it with me while I slept. I was a statistic now. Thank God he wasn't in the room when I returned. He could read my mind and I needed to compose myself a little. I was taking a "Critical Writing" class, and we were supposed to read a new book every week and write a review. At least ten pages. I picked a book I'd always loved: 'The Diary of Anne Frank'. Of course the ending was tragic, but I loved it for how fully that poor girl came to life for me. She was real and true. Truth is the thing every good writer knows how to make sacred. I opened the book and read it for awhile. I read with a critical mind, and still loved every page. At some point I drifted off to sleep. A nap I deserved. Bull had come into the room at some point. I woozily returned to a sitting position and wondered how long he'd been watching (talking) to me. I'd probably already spilled the beans...the HIV beans. He was sitting with no shirt on and barefoot. Just leans. I must have told him at some point that I thought he looked sexiest that way. "Hey, Babe. Need some coffee..a coke?" "Yeah...I'm thirsty. A cold soda would be perfect." "Well, you're lucky because I've had one ready for you for the last twenty minutes. It's Dr. Pepper -- that okay?" "Perfect." "Want some hooch in it? I don't know if vodka mixes very well with that." "Oh definitely. We probably need to talk." He nodded and just handed me the bottle. "What's on your mind?" "Don't you already know?" He shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah. I know. I feel like shit, Babe. You know I do." I took a few deep swallows of the potent liquid. "I'm fine. The doctor - or whatever she is - thought I was in shock. But I only feel what I've always felt...a deep love for you." We both stood up at the same time and met for a very long hug. I fought back tears because his feelings were so important to me. I would always be young and healthy with his arms around me. Always. THE ENDING I had to take charge after that fateful day and insist we get regular treatment. I'd told him that I wanted us to grow old together. He didn't fight me on anything when it came to our health, but he was in charge of everything else. We were so bonded now. Jesus -- was that really over 25 years ago? His parents got divorced and his dad gave him the cattle ranch before the mother could take it. That's where we live now. I never get tired of warm weather and that giant sky overhead. I'd written two graphic novels and received a big advance for another. Bull busied himself with business and investing. When I needed a break from writing, I'd go out and sit on the front porch. I saw a bobcat once. They look a lot like regular house cats, but are not to be messed with. I'd wander around the flat prairies and find the occasional rattlesnake. I let Bull tell me whatever he wanted to me while I slept. One of the medications gave me chronic insomnia (which wasn't listed on the possible side effects), but I kind of liked being awake and alone at night sometimes. It hadn't rained in two months and I could walk barefoot outdoors with no worries except for thorny weeds. I just loved looking into that giant sky and inhaling the hay-scented air. I could see the end of time up there and I could feel this rock of a planet we lived on hurtling through space at a speed none of us could ever really understand or believe. I got a great deal of my Texas blood from those stars. They nourished me and watched over me. I was protected.

I apologize. I'm sorry for upsetting members who were upset and/or disgusted by the story. It was not my original intention to have it end the way it did. What kills me is that I put a lot of work into that story -- only to fuck it up at the end. I wish so badly that I could rewrite the last paragraph. Again, I'm sorry.

I will work on a third part soon. I usually just like to write a complete story and move on, but I miss Bull too much to let me go.

There was some fully-developed sun sneaking in the blinds when I first opened my eyes. What time was it? I was still too tired to try and lift my head to look at my clock radio. I tumbled back down into the dream I was having. "Hey, Sleepy Head! It's almost 2 in the afternoon." There's was something so loving in that deep, redneck voice of his. I was happy to be awake and be with Bull. "How long have you been awake?" "Couple of hours. I had some shopping to do." There was a crinkling of bags. I hope he brought something to eat because I was starving. I got up from bed and put on a t-shirt and some shorts. The only pain I had was in the parts of my scalp where Bull had torn out patches of hair. I was also thirsty as hell. "What did you buy?" He started opening sacks and handing me things. A weird kind of soda I'd never had before. Bubble Up? I'd never had that before. It was cold and pretty good. I drained it fast but he had three more. "Thank you. I must be a little dehydrated." "I brought us a late lunch too. We'll eat after you come back to life a little." The biggest bag was from Macy's. "What's that? Clothes?" "Naw. I woke up this morning and saw what a bloody mess your pillows and sheets were, so I got some snazzy new bedding for you." Wow. "That's so nice of you." "Well, I'm sorry about slicing you up so bad. I got carried away. I knew I had to make it up to you somehow." "Is it that bad?" I couldn't make myself turn around to look "Not so bad. Look at what else I did..." He gestured toward the wall where I saw that he'd unpacked his big TV and hooked it up to the cable outlet. "We can watch it now -- as long as the volume isn't too loud. And not 'Roseanne'. That broad's voice makes me want to break stuff." I'd always that she was funny, but now I wasn't so sure. "How do I look? Bad?" "It looks worse than it really is. I'll clean you up a little and you'll be fine." He changed my bedding and then left the room with the messed up stuff that was there. He came back with a damp washcloth and wiped the dried blood off my face. "See? You don't look so bad at all. I bought some antiseptic cream that you can smear on the scratches." "What about my hair?" "You've got nice, thick hair that I can help you fix up and cover the skin showing. And if that doesn't work.....Ta Da!" He held up a new Boston Red Sox cap. "How'd you know that they're my favorite team?" "I guessed." He put it on my head and then switched on the TV. "I'm starving. Let's eat!" He'd bought two big bags of tacos and burritos from a nearby restaurant that had a great reputation. We ate while some Clint Eastwood movie was on the TV screen. I loved watching Bull attack the food like a wild boar. My man. I skipped the hot sauce because I knew it would irritate the sores in my mouth. It was good though. I felt good. "Hey Bull.." "Yeah?" "I had a really fun time last night, but I don't want to drink again for awhile." I told him about my deceased uncle while he nodded sympathetically. "Anybody else in your family a drinker? It's genetic. My dad and both of his sisters are major alcoholics. Wild Turkey. Holidays are wild when we all get together." A thought formed. "So are you going home for Thanksgiving?" "Naw. My parents usually travel during this time of year. What about you? Connecticut must be really beautiful this time of year." Oh, it really is. "It was all up in the air the last time I spoke to my parents. It's an expensive flight from here to Hartford, and I'll be home for Winter break soon anyway. I know Dad would shell out for a ticket if I really wanted to come home but I think I just want to stay here." "You sure?" His face had brightened considerably. "Yeah. It's a bullshit holiday and there's always some sort of argument when each of us get a turn to say what we're thankful for." "Why? What are you grateful about? What would you say?" I wanted to say 'you', but maybe it was too soon for that. "I'd say I was grateful that Clinton won the election...and my bible-thumping aunt would call him a 'baby killer' or something. And my poor mother would get upset, keep silent and try to tear her cloth napkin in two." "Well, we'll have our own Thanksgiving here. You and me." "Great. I don't look forward to telling my mom, but I'll deal with it. What about Christmas? You're going back to Texas then, right?" "Doubt it. I'd just be there in a big empty house while my family's in The Bahamas." "You could come back to Connecticut with me." The expression on his face was like I'd handed him a million dollars. "Really? For real? I think I'd love that." "Cool. I'm missing my Design 1 class right now. She talks so much and I can't understand any of the points she's trying to make. Artists." "I'm missing Biology. So what? It's Friday. Everybody with a life has called it a week already." By that Sunday, I finally looked at myself in the mirror. I'd successfully gone to the bathroom several times without bothering to get a glimpse of my face. But now... SHIT! Most of the scratches were pink and fading, but there was one long scab that went from my upper lip all the way up to my right nostril. I wouldn't go to classes for another few days. Bull told me to wear the bill of my cap low and fix a rough expression on my face. He said everybody would just assumed I was a tough guy who'd been in a bar fight. The hair was still not fixable at this stage. Big deal. By the week of Thanksgiving, you see and feel the air being drained away from 1991. I went to classes that Wednesday because I wanted to find out all the stuff I was behind in after my little 'vacation'. My face was looking almost normal and I never left the room without my hat on. I took note of what I needed to do before finals. I'd have time to get all the shit done. I actually cared more about Bull than my education. We hadn't done anything since that monumental night. I would have done anything he wanted, but I just waited like a puppy begging to go out for a walk. He finally lumbered back into the room, all smiles and carrying some takeout BBQ. He'd been bringing me food because he knew how embarrassed I was about showing my face under the harsh lights of the dining hall. I also think he was also trying to fatten me up, but didn't come right out and say anything of the sort. Whatever. I was just happy to see him. "Hey! Mom sent me a little card today. She wrote a short note and insisted I go eat a decent meal for Thanksgiving. She included a check for a hundred bucks." "That was nice of her." He couldn't be less impressed. "I endorsed it already. Take it. I want you to have it." He was astonished. "I..Why?" "You've spent a lot of money on me. It's the least I can do." "No way. I'm a trust fund kid, remember? I owe you for the stuff I did to your hair and face. Either cash it yourself or I'll rip it up. Seriously, Babe." "OK. You're the boss." "Damn straight. But thank you. Now I have a surprise for you. We're not spending the long weekend here...we're staying in a nice hotel. For four days! We can pack and go tonight." "What? Really?" "The Eldrick, downtown. That big stone building? Remember? Pure luxury and relaxation." "Wow. I can't wait. What time do we check in?" "Now. Let's eat and get ready. Make sure to bring your drawing stuff." His voice had a grin inside of it. I packed some clothes I thought would make me look like I belonged in a fancy hotel. I'd be wearing a baseball hat, but maybe people would just think I was going bald...or that I was eccentric. I was fine with either one. Bull didn't bring much, but he did pack away his nicest cowboy boots. They were expensive, black and sexy as hell. I was so glad that the little hard knot of homesickness in my heart had loosened. I missed my folks and my dog the most. Also, just being home. You can miss people and places you never thought you would. The hotel suite was so much nicer than I'd even imagined. It was like a large living room with a king sized bed in it. Bull was ordering room service before he even bothered to unpack. That night we got good and plastered on some really nice spiced rum he'd brought with him. I'd wanted to mix it with Diet Coke, but Bull had forbidden me anything 'diet'. Even as we drank and talked happily, I kept wondering if we going to do some drawing tonight. He wasn't sending any signals so I just enjoyed the evening for what it was. The bed was so comfortable that we didn't stay awake long enough to watch anything dumb on TV. When I woke up from a perfect sleep, Bull was gone and it was almost 10 in the morning. The parade! I found it on the over-sized TV and watched. It was as lame as ever, but I'd watched it every year since I can remember. It was weird to see the bands and floats without hearing my mom in the kitchen. By the time Santa appeared at the end, Bull came back with more rum and a six-pack of Diet Coke. ! "I'll allow you your beloved sugar-free pop for this special occasion. Happy Thanksgiving, Babe!!" He clicked the volume way down on the TV and then gave me a nice kiss on the mouth. Finally. I took it as a sign. "It's so nice out. Let's go take a walk around to build up an appetite." During the walk, my mind was overflowing with feelings and words. How could he not know how much I wanted to fool around again? "Hey, Bull? Can I ask you a question?" "Anything." "Why have you put it on me to make a move? Do you even realize how much I want to have more sex with you? You're aware that I'm shy, right?" "You asked me those things in your sleep almost every night. I will give you answers that maybe won't make sense to you now." I just stared straight down at the sidewalk. We kept walking. "It's...it's hard to explain. You are my support system. If you were just a fuck to me, we would have done it a dozen times already. I thought by not asserting myself, I'd be letting you know that I rank you so much higher than just a sex outlet. I guess all it did was make you insecure. Sorry. I love you as much or more than I lust for you. If we just kept having sex every night, you'd get bored with it and then you'd wonder what else I meant to you. What if you decided there's nothing else about me worth sticking around for. That would kill me. I'd have nothing else." "I think I get it now. But I do love you, Bull. I'm partially to blame for all this because I can be a little closed off sometimes." "I know. Anything else you want me to clear up for you?" "No." Yes. The HIV issue was still on my long list of worries, but now was not the time to bring it up. "OK. Now let's head back to the hotel. We'll have a few drinks and then go eat." He put his arm around my shoulders and we walked that way for five blocks. Not once did it occur to me to worry about what passersby might think or say. Back in our suite, Bull started to get his bath stuff together. I guess he was going to shower and shave. Oh. OK. I guess I'd use the time to pick out what I was going to wear. No, I'd let him pick out what he wanted to see me in. I'd just sit and watch football while he got cleaned up. I was starting to get used to watching TV with almost no volume. He was really taking his time in the bathroom. Out of boredom, I finally grabbed the bottle of rum. I drank a toast to my late uncle. He was the only fun relative I'd had. I was about to toast more people I was missing when the shower shut off. I should save a swallow for Bull, but I'm sure he had more hooch somewhere. I drank to my mom who was probably exhausted at this point. I drank to my dad who was likely cussing at what a piss poor game this was. He was still sore that "Taxi" had been taken off the air. I was about to toast a grandpa I never got to know very well, when a naked Bull lumbered into the room. "Caught you! I'm not turning you into a drunk am I?" "Nah...I was just sharing a few drinks with people back home - if that makes sense." Being homesick made me feel a little childish. "Good for you. I wish I could say I missed my family, but all I really miss is Texas. We should spend half of Winter Break in Connecticut and half in Fort Worth. There are so many things I want to show you." Thanksgiving dinner in a hotel restaurant is a mixed bag. It's nice, but not really what it's supposed to be. And the poor people working here. But at least Bull was there with me. I complimented him on what a nice smooth shave he'd managed to give himself. "Did you even notice my nails?" They were clean and he'd made an attempt to trim them evenly. I guess I was flattered that he had put forth the effort, but those jagged, dirty nails had meant something to me...in a perverted way. He must have seen that in my face. "I didn't get around to my toes yet. It's kind of hard for big, fat guys like me to bend down there and take care of their feet. Maybe you could do it for me?" He arched his eyebrows up and down a few times. "Sure. Later. I just think you look so good now." We'd been drinking wine, which I knew nothing about. I went with it. I was full and feeling a little sleepy, but it was still relatively early. I kept waiting for him to say 'let's go back to the room', but he was loving the vino. He kept ordering more wine, specific years and labels. It was showing off. I guess I could have used an espresso right about then, but I'd have three more days for rest up. "I noticed you brought books with you. I like that you read a lot. I predict you'll write a bestseller some day...and dedicate it to me." The wine kept coming and it started tasting all the same. Once we finally stumbled back into the room, I immediately changed into shorts and the t-shirt I most liked to sleep in. Bull just got naked and plopped on the bed. While he opened a new bottle of vodka he'd had in his bag. "You can mix this with your chemical coke, you know." "That's cool. I think I'll just drink the coke straight for a few sips first." "What's that?" he was looking at the new sketch book I'd treated myself to a few days ago. It was hardback and the paper was the fancy acid-free kind. Bull probably would have already snooped through it if he'd known what it was. "Come show it to me." He glanced at the seven or eight drawings I'd already done. "Wow. You improve every day." He especially liked the one of his everyday boots tossed haphazardly on the floor. There were a few of him sleeping that I knew conveyed some of the affection I was feeling. It comes through whether you ant it to or not. It was exactly opposite of the self portrait I'd drawn in front of the mirror. I looked sad and maybe a little angry. "I want to lie down next to you in bed, but I'd hate to fall asleep this early." "Let's go sit on the sofa and watch some TV. You should call home to wish your mom and dad a happy Thanksgiving." "It's three hours later in Connecticut. Mom has probably dropped dead from all the time she spent in the kitchen today. Dad is probably reading the paper in bed and getting pissed off that there are ads for Black Friday specials." We sat and watched the remainder of the football game for a few minutes. I got up to pour some vodka into my half-full can of Diet Coke. Bull just took swigs right from the bottle. "Did you bring swimming trunks? There's a rooftop pool here." "I don't even own any. Did you bring yours?" "Nope. We can just skinny dip." Was he kidding? "Uh...No. I could never do that. What if somebody saw?" "I slipped one of the maids a fifty to give us private access. It's locked, but I have a key." Well, hell. I guess this would be okay then. It was so much more perfect up there than I would have imagined. The whole deck was lit up with fancy lamp posts. I was still a little too full to even think about getting in the water...even though the night was very warm and the water in the pool looked heavenly. No. No swimming tonight. "Take off your clothes, Babe." I did. "Now go get us those two pool mattresses so we can lie back and look at the stars." The water temperature was perfect. The splashes I made seemed very loud in the night air. Sounds seemed to bounce. I drug both inflatable items to the concrete and arranged them a few inches apart. He and I lied back and looked skyward. The moon was extremely full. Harvest Moon? No. That was last month if I remember right. "You should see the stars from Daddy's ranch. There's not as much light pollution and the sky is just bigger. What's it like in Connecticut?" "So nice. I even knew some of the constellations by name back when I was interested in astronomy. We used to watch that meteor shower that happens every Summer." "Yeah. I'm starting to sweat...are you? No, I bet not. You need to beef up, Babe." He'd brought the vodka with him and we took shots as the universe circled overhead. "Would you eat my ass if I wanted you to?" Eat? I knew it didn't involve biting or chewing. It was licking, right? Licking and kissing? I'd never once in my life imagined doing that. The pool pump purred in the foreground. "I want to do that for you. You'll have to take over again. It's all new to me." "It's not as gross as you might imagine. I'm completely clean down there except for a little sweat. We can start slow. Why don't you suck on my toes a little first." He knew I'd liked doing that the first time we played. I had to get in the pool to be on the same level as his bare feet. I massaged his wide soles a little first and then took his big toe in my mouth. I tried to be careful of the nearby toenails but they were still sharp and the familiar scratching of my cheeks and lips happened again. Funny how I no longer gave a shit. After finishing each toe on each foot, I ducked under the water to wash some of the blood away. Chlorine would help...I hoped. He was standing up with a dynamic erection when I emerged from the water. "Lie on your back." I was excited and a little afraid. What if it made me throw up? He towered over me and the orange and white lights around the pool made him look like beautiful demon. "OK. I want to do this." "I know." He turned around and then squatted right above my face. It took some effort on his part to balance in that position. I could see his big hairy butt cheeks and the long crack, but nothing beyond that. He was careful as he let my nose and mouth have full access to what was inside. No odor so far. I lifted my head up and stuck my tongue out as far as I could. It felt a little like a small pair of lips. I'm sure my dick was standing straight up which Bull took as a cue to get lower and wiggle a little. I hoped he liked the job I was doing. My hands went up on top of his straining thighs as a signal that he could relax and just sit down. I guess he understood and just let his full weight down on top of my head. It wasn't so bad except I had no way of breathing. So what. I'd have the rest of my life for the intake of oxygen. Bull's hands were now freed up to reach around and manually spread his cheeks apart a little. I got my hungry tongue as far up that dark place up inside his rectum. He groaned. I knew he liked what I was doing for him -- and I knew I wanted to do this often. "Slow down a little...I don't want to cum yet." And then he reached down and grabbed my painfully hard dick, and that's all it took for me to shoot my load. "Damn, Babe. I wish you could have saved it a little longer." He stood up as I took in as many deep breaths as I could. I could easily just close my eyes and go to sleep right here. "Grab your shoes and stuff and let's go back to the room." We just carried our stuff and nakedly returned to the suite. Being with Bull made me feel more daring than I ever imagined was possible for me. The elevator and hallway were empty. I thought about what I'd just done. Even if you disregard the whole HIV issue, I'm sure one could catch something if your bloody tongue was inside someone's shit hole. OK....what's done is done. What bothered me currently was how Bull wasn't talking. Was he mad at me for cumming? Once inside, he fetched the two hotel robes from the bathroom and tossed me one. It was the softest robe in the world. I absorbed the comfortable warmth to distract me from this upsetting silence. We'd left the TV on and there was some old black and white Christmas movie on. Dear Lord. Already? If Bull was going to dump me, I wouldn't have to tell Mom I was bringing a guest home. "Here," Bull handed me a Diet Coke. "Peace offering." He'd already spiked it with a way too generous pour of vodka. "Are you mad at me?" "Not any more. Right after I told you I didn't want to cum, you just went ahead and did. I just remembered now that you're 18...the horniest age a guy can be. Hell, I could cum four or five times a day back then. I guess I should be glad you enjoyed it so much. I've been rimmed many times and never made anyone cum just doing that. We're fine. Better than fine." "I'm glad." "Look how fake that snow looks." He was gesturing toward the TV screen. "Do you guys usually have a white Christmas up there." "Almost always. Ice too. And those long, sinister icicles you usually only see in pictures." "Cool. I've never spent Christmas somewhere that snowed. I'm excited about the trip." "I love you, Bull." "I know. You make me know it every day whether you realize it or not. I love you too. Go get your drawing stuff." Yes! As I tried to find my favorite soft-leaded pencil I remembered that I forgot it back in the dorm. I had some pretty nifty pens, but I usually only used those to draw cartoons. I explained to Bull that I really only ever drew silly things with ink. "That sounds perfect. Draw me something goofy." "Like what?" "Wait. I've got something that might help." He fished around in his bag and produced a fat joint. OK. I'd never been stoned before, but I had friends from high school who did it all the time. I guess that, back then, I thought any drug would make you go crazy. "This is a non-smoking room, Bull. If the maid smells anything, they'll add a fine to your bill." "Your point?" We got good and baked as I drew the dumbest stuff. I was not feeling like my normal self, but Bull seemed the same as always. He laughed hysterically at the cartoons. The TV was showing a different old movie. I tend to get all happy when someone enjoys my work, and Bull's approval meant more to me than he could know. I was getting way too high to continue. I told him I was partied out. "Me too," he puffed as he stubbed out the remaining half of the blunt. "Happy Thanksgiving, Babe. I love you." I guess it was time for bed. I'd eventually find out later in life that getting stoned was hit or miss. For now, though, I felt the delicious mix of fatigue and joy. My mouth was majorly dry so I took sips from the drink I'd forgotten about. I'd forgotten to say 'I love you too' ...or did I? No idea. The TV caught my eye and I was drawn in to some old flick from the 30's or 40's. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but knew they were really overdoing the facial expressions. They were obviously acting. How did anybody ever earn an Oscar back then? They were so obviously aware of the camera and how they looked. You'd never see Jodie Foster or Daniel Day-Lewis trying to pull that shit off on screen. Despite all the corniness, I was fascinated and couldn't stop watching. The trance was briefly broken by Bull's loud snores. Once I was back outside the TV, I realized my bladder was about to burst. I walked to the bathroom and peed. I made the mistake of looking at myself in the mirror. More blood, more scratches, swollen lips. It wasn't as bad as the last time, but still... Those damn toenails. Maybe I could trim them while he was passed out. By the time I left the bathroom, Bull was awake and all sprawled out all the way across the top of the bed. "Sorry, Babe. Looks like there's no room for you. I bet that couch is comfortable...or the floor." His dick was as tall and hard as a statue. He smiled. "OK. I sure wish there was something I could do to earn a spot in the bed." "Nope. Sorry. Come give me kiss goodnight and then go find somewhere else to sleep." This was all a little silly, but I was high enough to think that maybe he wasn't kidding. I walked over and planted a small peck on his lips. He then reached around and squeezed me to him like a furry python. We kissed like animals, and I was lost to the world. There was only Bull now. Nobody and nothing else existed. How could I ever turn back now? Why would I want to? He knew that he was in charge and he knew that I wanted him to be in charge. We essentially were just grinding on each other, our hard dicks having a duel. At some point during the battle, Bull reached his long arm out for a tube of KY. Had that been visible before? I knew what that stuff was for. I'd once been a cashier in a drug store and would always try to make my face a complete blank when someone purchased that. We were about to have anal sex. I said that in my head a few times but nothing responded. How? That meat of his couldn't possibly fit inside of me. "This is going to hurt, but I promise to go easy at first. Just relax. Think about the stars." As he oiled up his shaft and smeared some on my hole, I tried to calm myself and remember the names of the constellations. I'd list them alphabetically in my head. Too hard. State capitols, maybe? I was trying to focus on something else when Bull hoisted my legs up in the air. His greasy dick was knocking at the door of my ass. "Take a deep breath, Babe." And then the sky exploded. I cried out as the most unbelievable pain I'd ever felt shot through me. "Hush." His hand covered my mouth. "People around here are trying to sleep." Well this was flat out impossible. I couldn't do this. I was in pain but also angry. You didn't do this to someone you claimed you loved! I couldn't fight him off because he was just too big. I was plum out of options here. "Yeah...I'm almost halfway in there. You're just too damn tight." I wondered if he was doing permanent damage to my body. Would I ever be able to poop normally? Would I bleed to death? He removed his hand from my face and looked right into my eyes. His beautiful face made me want to do this. I wanted him to be pleased. I opened my mouth to something, but nothing came out. The severity of the pain disappeared in the glow of the TV as it danced in his eyes. It didn't exactly feel good, but I was no longer afraid. "Listen to me. Listen good." He pushed all the way inside of me and I thought I'd pass out. A scream wasn't even possible at this point...just a ragged gasp. "Your ears work, Ken?" I nodded. "Good." He pulled out a little. "YOU" thrust "WILL" thrust "NEVER" very hard thrust "CUM" thrust "BEFORE" thrust ME" spastic thrusting "AGAIN!!" hard thrusts and then a pause "I'm .. OH SHIT! I'm shooting inside of you." He was covered in slick sweat. I stayed still and wondered what to think, what to feel. He got out of bed and helped me to my feet. I almost collapsed, but he steadied me. The comforter looked like someone had been murdered there. More blood. Always blood. "Go take a quick shower, Babe. I'll neaten things up." I did as instructed. I was no longer a virgin. I was likely going to get AIDS. No amount of soap and hot water could change that. But at least I was alive now. Alive, in love, with Texas blood flowing through my veins.

1991 Has anyone ever asked you what the happiest moment of your life was? Most people will say something like 'my wedding' or 'when my first child was born'. My happiest moment came the day I left home to attend college. I liked my family and where I grew up, but the idea of starting a brand new life as an adult in a faraway state was exhilarating at the time. Adventure awaited me. My only worry was the idea of having a roommate. I was always a loner and was used to a lot of privacy. I hoped for the best. Once I moved all my stuff into the ridiculously small dorm room, I had no idea what to do with myself. It was a huge campus and I wanted to explore everything, but I also kind of wanted to be here when my roommate arrived. I had to know what he was like. I sat on my tiny bed and waited. He finally showed up 30 minutes later. Uh oh. This would not be a good match. He was a big, chubby guy and an obvious redneck. And loud. "Howdy! I'm Brent. Nickname's 'Bull' though. You can call me either one." I knew I'd get annoyed by that Southern twang really really fast. "I'm Ken. Where are you from?" "Fort Worth, Texas. My daddy owns ten thousand head of cattle and I grew up on a big ranch." OK. He was a bragger. Great. "I grew up in a small Connecticut town. We are average in just about every way." "Nah. You're not average at all. Come help me carry in some of my shit and then we can go find some fun." He had a giant pickup (of course) and lots of stereo equipment. I could only imagine what kind of cowboy music he listened to. He seemed to have a lot of electronics but not many clothes or personal items. "I'll unpack everything later...let's go take a look around." The campus was landscaped beautifully. There was a big park in the center with a pond full of ducks and a stone bridge. I wanted to find the Art & Design building since that was where over half of my classes were. "I'm here because of a partial fine arts scholarship. That gets me out of all the foreign language and history requirements. I like to write too." I expected some kind of smart-ass response from this hick, but Brent seemed almost impressed. "Cool. I haven't picked a major yet. I was thinking about Psychology, but I'm not sure. At least you know what you want to do." I was sure going to get get exercise here. All the buildings I needed to go to on a daily basis were far apart, and I'd probably have to sprint to the museum where I had art history. "Let's go to bookstore." "To hell with that -- let's find a bar. I need a drink." "I'm only 18. The age requirement in this state is 20...even for beer." "Trust me. I'll take care of things." Whatever. I was ambivalent about alcohol, and had only been drunk once in my life. Didn't really enjoy it too much. But this was my new adult life that was starting and I might feel different now. I think that was when I got my first hint that Brent was somebody who was hard to say 'no' to. I think I was starting to like him. I guess cowboys have a natural instinct for finding booze because we found a bar right away, a few steps off campus. It looked like a super old place that had probably been here since the 60's. Of course it was packed with people, clutching fake I.D.s in one hand and a mug of cold beer in the other. I normally have a paralyzing shyness that sets in when I approach a big crowd of strangers. I would look stupid or say something stupid and they would all laugh at me. "Why are you stopping, Ken? We're almost there. You scared or Baptist or something?" "No. Let's go." I felt safe with him. Maybe people would think he was a new football recruit and that I must be cool if I was hanging around with him. "Let me order the beers while you go find us a place to sit." I scanned the place and every table was full. I wandered out to the smoking patio and there was a nice wooden bench with no occupants. Perfect. It was a beautiful day and the smell of cigarettes reminded me of my dad. Just as I about to worry that Brent wouldn't find me out here, he came out and smiled when he saw me. Maybe he was a smoker too...or just not big on brushing his teeth. Nobody's perfect...or even close to it. He handed me an extra tall glass of beer. "This is way better than inside. Good choice." "Do you have a fake I.D.?" "Nah. I'm older than you probably think. I'm 26." "No way! Really? Why did it take you so long to start college?" I worried that I was asking a rude question, but, I mean, 26? "Oh. Reasons. I was a real fuck-up as a teen. I went to jail a few times and was in a nut house for almost a year." Fucking Hell! At least he was honest. "So you had a few 'lost years'? Lots of people do." "Yup. Does all that bother you?" It didn't. The new adult me was okay with somebody who had a past. "No, but thank you for sharing that. My big secret is that I know I'm gay. Does that bother you?" "I knew that already. It's not like you're obvious or anything, but I can tell things instantly. I'm everything -- straight, gay, bi and all kinds of stuff in between. I've been having sex since I got my first pubic hair." "Wow. I've never done anything with anybody. I wouldn't even know where to start." "You'll know. Sex is not that big a deal once you have it. You will always want more, but never know why. I have done so much fucking. Big-titted cousins, Mexican ranch hands, strangers at rest stops...." "Do you ever worry about catching something?" It was 1991 after all. AIDS was everywhere and mutant strains were developing so fast that the scientists had all but given up trying to find a cure. Or a vaccine. "Hell no. I've got Texas blood. I once got crabs from some chick, and it only lasted half a day. I woke up all itchy but they were gone before I could even go to the drugstore and buy that Rid shit. My body destroyed them. Another time, I let some guy with a sore on his mouth suck my dick and I never got anything. I'll show you my dick later -- it is completely clean." I was dubious, but I knew Texans liked to brag and to bullshit. Maybe he was just telling tall tales. "You don't believe me?" "No. I mean Yes. I believe you. I do." "The ultimate proof came when I was in high school and our football coach made the whole team volunteer to give blood at the donor drive they have every year. I then got some letter from the people who tested my donation -- it said I had HIV." I felt an icy chill. "You...You're kidding." "Nope. It was in me, but my blood killed it." "That's possible?" "For me it was. This was almost eight years ago and I've never been sick. I don't even catch colds. It's all because of strong Texas blood!" I wanted to change the subject, but he was badly misinformed. "Have you been retested?" "No. Why?" "I just don't know if the AIDS virus can be snuffed out like that." "Now you know. Let me go get us a few more beers and then we should head back. You're getting pretty sunburned already. I guess it's always cloudy in Connecticut, huh?" He got up off the bench before I could reply. I was alone with a million thoughts. My new roommate was very sexual and probably HIV+. My new life had started in a very alarming place. How would the adult me deal with this? Sensibly and sanely. That's what I decided. Brent came back with two normal sized mugs of beer. "We can just drink these on the walk. Nobody's going to miss two cheap glasses." He was a risk-taker whereas I had a fear of shadows. I'd never even stolen a pack of gum before. "So...how many credit hours are you taking, Brent?" "Eight. I think. What about you?" "Ten. I have to take that many or I lose the scholarship money." He drained his beer in one long chug as I couldn't help but watch his hairy Adam's Apple bob up and down. He tossed the empty glass against a light pole and it shattered. "Hurry and finish yours, Babe." 'Babe'? Did he really just call me that? Maybe the sun/beer combo had made my hearing fuzzy. I really didn't want to drink more of the beer so I just handed him the mug. "I'm not a real fan of beer." "Hell, man. You should have said something earlier. I got a surprise." He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a pint of Captain Morgans rum. "I thought you could see the bulge of this -- or did you just think my left butt cheek was deformed?" "No...I..." "You haven't even once checked out my ass? I'm hurt." What the hell? "Relax, Babe. I'm just teasing you. I know I've got a fat butt, but it's solid. Want to feel?" I started to say something, but the rum was passed to me and I took an extended sip. "You're my friend and roommate, Cowboy. I don't want things to start awkwardly. You know?" "Oh. You're one of those practical types. I need that in my life, I guess. Take another sip." It was a restorative kind of liquor...I suddenly felt awake and clear. We were at the little stone bridge over the duck pond. "We should buy some bread or something and come feed them." "Yeah. And you could draw them. Ducks can't be too hard to draw." "Ugh. That reminds me that I'm about a week behind in mt daily sketches. I have to bring a full sketchbook on my first day of "Life Drawing 1" class. I was pretty disciplined about it all Summer, but I got distracted with all the packing and moving. Shit." "Relax. School doesn't start for six more days. What do you usually draw?" "Anything. I draw my left hand a lot because I need to get better at hands. Trees. My dog. I'm a cartoonist at heart, but there's no major for that." "Draw me. Draw my hands." He held them up to my face, and they were big and gnarly. Hygiene was not his thing. His nails were black with filth and he maybe cut them with dull scissors. Sharp, ugly edges. Who shows up for their first day of college without the tiniest attempt at grooming? Some guy nicknamed 'Bull' I guess. "Why do they call you Bull?" He grinned. "I'm the bull in a china shop. I got the name during my party days when I'd get really drunk and crash into stuff, breaking furniture and putting holes in walls. I also have giant balls like a longhorn bull. You'll see 'em later." I really wanted to. "I've never had rum before. It's good...not too harsh." "Good to know. I prefer vodka, but it tends to make me a little crazy." We got back to the dorm and it was loud as hell. Everybody had set up their stereos and were letting their neighbors know what kind of music they liked. Inside the room, I offered to help Brent connect all of his electronics. "Nah. Not now...neither of us are clear-headed enough for that shit. It can wait. I want to see this sketchbook you talked about." I dug through my box of art stuff and found it, but before I could turn around to hand it to him, Bull was passed out. He was too big for that little twin bed, but it's not like any of of us had a choice about it. He had all of his clothes on and I was thinking maybe I should take his shoes off for him, but I was sleepy myself. It had been a long trip. I lied down on my own midget bed and closed my eyes. "You awake?" What? I thought I'd only closed my eyes for a few minutes, but the shadows from the window told me it was already evening. "Uh..I think so. How long have you been up?" " A while. Did you know you talk in your sleep? I mean, like, a lot! We had a whole conversation while you were out." "Really? I've slept alone in my own room since I was a baby. What did I say?" "Random things. Honest things." We drank and talked a lot during those first few days, and I realized I was not orienting myself with college -- only with Bull. I cut way down on the partying once classes started because I wanted to wake up on time for my early classes and not be too hungover to do all the walking required on a daily basis. My roommate seemed to resent losing his drinking buddy and often referred to me as a 'choir boy'. Bull was not cut out for academia (big surprise), and kept right on drinking. When I was busy reading or at my drawing table, he'd wander drunkenly around the dorm and find other future dropouts to bullshit with. As he floundered, I was really hitting a good groove. My drawing skills improved and my ideas got fresher. By the time Halloween was approaching, Bull began a long episode of depression. I felt bad. He needed a good friend, and was probably wishing we could hang out like we did that first week. Midterms aren't all that grueling for art students, and I suggested we go out and do something. He brightened up and said, "Finally! I've almost had enough of your altar boy routine." "This weekend is all ours. I'm sorry for ignoring you, but I'm really doing well in all of my classes." "Thanks to me, " he snorted. "Huh? What's that supposed to mean?" "Let's have a drink, and I'll confess something." He fished a bottle of rum from under his bed and sat next to me. We shared sips and I waited for his 'confession'. "Well, I told you about how you talk in your sleep, right?" "Yeah." "It turns out that you also listen in your sleep." "Meaning?" I suddenly felt a little scared. "I give you suggestions while you were out. Well, more like commands. I tell you to have a good, restful sleep and be completely energized when you wake up. Had any really good dreams lately?" I remembered something from a few nights ago.... I was in a room with a dozen Saint Bernard puppies that were jumping all over me. They were licking my skin and nipping me with their sharp puppy teeth. It was pure heaven as I lied on the floor as they covered me with love. Just thinking about it now made me smile. "Yeah. You did that?" "I helped." "Wow. It's like hypnosis, sort of. Just don't make me do anything weird -- like start talking with a German accent. Promise?" "I can't make you do anything that would hurt you or embarrass you. I like you too much to ever try shit like that." And then I just leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. Out of nowhere. Did he plant that idea in my sleeping brain? I had to wonder because I'm not a forward person. I'm a bystander. I'd watched people do things like this in movies and on TV, but never once put myself in the picture. My first kiss. "Did you cause me to do that?" "No. You wanted to do that...and it surprised the hell out of me." I suddenly felt like a moron. "Sorry, Bull. I guess I just had too much rum." "No, I don't think you've had nearly enough." He grinned and handed me the bottle. "I have something else to confess, Babe." Oh God. This night was getting way too eventful. "I looked through your sketchbook. I looked at every single page." "Oh." I was okay with people I didn't know looking at my work, but friends and family never got that kind of access. I can't tell you why. "Well?..." "I was super impressed. You said you weren't good at drawing hands, but you have perfected them. And I think you've drawn enough ducks for now. Same with that damn stone bridge. I also noticed you drew one of me while I was taking a nap. I wanted to tear it from the sketch book and keep it for myself. It was so good and yet -- it was flattering. I saw myself but I also saw you." "What do you mean?" "I just could see you in the lines and the shapes. Does that make sense?" It did. In my Life Drawing 1 class, I sat at an easel next to some girl who was extremely talented. Her drawings had the kind of perfection and coldness that she herself possessed. "You can have that drawing, Bull. I'll give it to you now." "No. I have a better idea." He left the room for a minute and returned with two cold cans of Coke from the vending machine. "Cuba Libre!" We had rum and cokes and continued chatting idly for a few minutes. "Too bad you never got around to hooking up your fancy stereo equipment. Tunes would be nice right now. And isn't opening the windows and blasting music a typical college thing to do?" "Know why? Because, during one of our conversations while you slept, I asked you what kind of music you liked. You rattled off a list of bands that I'd never even heard of...except Nirvana." "Man. That band got me through my last few years of high school." "I also like to hear reality more than something recorded on a disc by some stranger." We continued to empty the bottle as we talked about a million different things. I didn't try to kiss him again but I was moving closer until we were touching. He'd never seemed so large before. "You know...I could draw a portrait of you that you could give your mom. Christmas is a few months away." "That's a nice idea, Babe...but my mama would give a shit about a gift like that. If I used it to wrap something from Tiffany's she'd be happy." Oh. I had known people with mothers like that. "Sorry." "No. I do want you to draw my portrait...for me." "Sure. But like I said, you can have that page from my sketchbook." "Why not just draw me now?" "I think I'm too buzzed, Bull. You'll end up looking like that kid from 'Mask' or something." "That would be cool too. Go get your paper and pencils while I comb my hair a little." I fetched the big tablet of paper I used to draw those scrawny, starving models in art class. There was no easel here so I'd have to just hold it up with my left hand. No. I sat on the floor instead and bent my knees up so I could use my legs as an easel. It would feel weird if I wasn't so buzzed. Bull grabbed the stool by my drawing table and sat down in front of me. "Too close, dude. You're forcing a weird of a perspective there. Move back a little." He sighed. "You're the artist." He moved the stool about four feet away from where I was. Four feet was about as far as we could be separated in this room. And then he clicked on his desk lamp and aimed it carefully before turning off the overhead light. Huh? "This is to create shadows....you're good with shadows." I thought of the models I'd drawn in class...under super bright industrial lights. This would be a nice change. "Okay -- get comfortable. Pick a pose you can hold for 30 minutes at least." He started undressing which was not what I meant by 'getting comfortable', but whatever. He started by taking off those giant cowboy boots he wore on a daily basis. He had brought five or six pairs of them, but these old tan ones were his favorite. The leather was old and full of creases, and I made a mental note to draw one of them in my sketchbook sometime. He then took off the rest of his clothes until he was as naked as the day he was born. "Wow." I either thought that or said that out loud. Maybe I did both. I'd glimpsed his dick before. I knew it was bigger than mine and was uncut. But looking at it freely was a different thing. It was HUGE, just like the rest of him. It hung down there like a slab of meat at the butcher's shop. No wonder he had had so much sex in his life. It wasn't just that -- he just had a sex vibe about him. And I think he knew that he did. I think he also knew that I sometimes responded to it. If not for the rum in my system, I might have been crippled by shyness and made a quick exit. But I was relaxed and happy to be exactly where I was now. For whatever reason he tossed his discarded clothes right next to me. He stepped right over me as he did that, and all I could see was a wall of hairy flesh. Dear God. I was hard but I acted cool even though I was about ready to drool all over myself. "OK. I'm ready. Draw everything...even my double chin, my gut and these weird knees." He was perfect. I had fallen in love with with every flaw he thought he had. I didn't love his hygiene habits too much though. He shaved his face so irregularly that you couldn't tell if he was trying to grow a beard or shave one off. And his fingernails were worse then they were when I first noticed them. And his feet? I had to look away fbrom those things. And his body odor was pretty potent -- a mixture of sweat, spice and dirty bathroom. But I didn't care at the moment. "I hope you won't be disappointed by this, Bull. It won't be my best work." Even after I said that, I still swigged directly from the nearby rum bottle. Fuck it. I'd just do this and then we could laugh at my drunken attempts afterward. Once my pencil connected with the paper everything changed. I was suddenly more sober and focused. I started with a few light lines to loosen up. I always started from top to bottom, so I drew the shape his head. He was so fucking sexy. The models I drew in class were sexless in my eyes...I never once got aroused by them. I'd never drawn a body so furry before either. I'd deal with that later. I went into that space where I was just eyeballs and a hand. Drawing can do that to you. "Hold on, Babe. I want to get my camera and take a picture of you when you draw. Your eyes, when you concentrate are so incredible. Draw me every day, please." The spell was broken. I was suddenly a drunk kid on the floor again...with an erection pressed against the fly of my jeans. What time was it? I wonder if the reason I liked art is because it had the ability to take you out of your body for a while. "Never mind, Bull. I told you I was in no shape to draw tonight. Let's just chill out for awhile and then go to sleep. I'm wiped out." "OK. I can't find the goddamn camera anyway. I'm a little disorganized if you haven't noticed." Yes, I have. "You can get dressed now and we'll try this again over the weekend." "Why should I put clothes on?," he asked in a confused child's tone. "Or don't. I wish I was as confident in my own body as you are with yours." "I'll take care of that. I had no idea you weren't aware of how good look." He plopped down on my bed, put a fat finger to my forehead and said "From now on, you will see yourself as I see you." What? I'm glad the bottle was almost empty. Maybe we were just two drunk college guys who didn't know what we were saying. I leaned my head against his hairy knee. My boner was just not going to go away... and probably wouldn't until I had a chance to beat off in private. "I loved seeing you naked, Bull." "I'm still naked, Babe. Get up off the floor. Now." I did as I was told and saw that his prick had grown thicker, longer and harder. Was something going to happen now? Did I really want it to? My judgement was impaired, but my shyness and fears were still there somewhere in the blur. "Take off your shirt at least." I did. The weather here was so much nicer than in Connecticut. People in my town were probably all in sweatshirts or sweaters right now. "Did you forget to bring nail clippers with you, Bull? You can always use mine." "What...you don't like my nails?" He splayed his giant paw in front of my face. They were even worse than I remembered. Not just dirty, but jagged and sharp. Probably one of Bat Man's enemies had nails like his. And then I found myself taking his left thumb in my mouth. Why? I have no idea. I guess I wanted to save his feelings and let him know I adored his whole self. I could feel those nasty nails scrape up the inside of my mouth and my tongue. Is it weird that I found that erotic? What the hell was wrong with me? I just kept sucking each finger as Bull made pleasure noises. When I saw that there was now no dirt left under his gnarly nails, I had to make myself realize that all that grime had been ingested by me. Gross, right? I should go swig some Listerine, but I just drained the rest of the rum bottle and let it do what it could. "I...I guess I have a thing for fingers. Never knew about myself." "You were fantastic, Babe. I nearly came. What about toes? Do you have a thing for toes?" "I don't know." "I bet you do...they're just like fingers, only shorter and stinkier. Give it a try. I won't make you do it if you don't like it." And then he stretched his big frame horizontally on my bed. "Your mattress is just as lumpy as mine." I was on auto-pilot when I went to the end of the bed and regarded his size 14 (maybe 15) soles. They were massive but mostly clean. There was an odor that didn't turn me off in the least. The nails on this end were as bad or worse than what I could have imagined. Maybe I couldn't do this. But I knew Bull would like it if I at least tried. I started with the big toe. I licked it first and then kissed it. He made encouraging sounds so I just went ahead and sucked it. Of course the nail was as sharp as a switchblade and I could feel it cut into my lips and gums. When I moved to the second toe I made a discovery: Toes can't help but being close to each other whereas fingers can be offered one by one. His other nails were scratching my face all to hell. I would have stopped if I hadn't gotten so into it. The point of return. I finished every toe on both feet. Once again I had sucked all the grime away and swallowed it. His feet looked fresh out of the shower. I really wish there was some more rum left to wash my mouth a little. As soon as I thought that, Bull had produced a new bottle from somewhere. It was vodka this time. Where the fuck did he have that hidden? "I'm afraid this doesn't really mix well with soda pop. Orange juice, maybe, but they don't have that in the vending machine. We'll just do shots." Shots? Didn't you need those little tiny glasses for shots? Guess not. I was aware that I needed to pee really bad. "I need to piss. Be right back." "I do too. Hold on a second while I put on my robe." He put on a very wrinkled robe and pushed his boner to the side so it wouldn't poke out. I am very "pee shy" , and can't pee with someone else near. He had no way of knowing that, of course. Fuck it...I was about to bust. We went into the empty bathroom and I had no problem letting a stream loose. Relief. "Fuck. It's not easy to piss with a hard-on." Bull stood there for a while before he finished. Out of pure habit I went to wash my hands at the sink -- which is bizarre considering all the unhygienic things I had just done. Mistake. I saw myself in the mirror and my face was as scratched up as if I'd fallen into a rose bush. My lips were cut and swollen. I'd definitely skip classes tomorrow. Was it as bad as I thought? Or was I just seeing the sin and depravity looking back at me? Either way, it couldn't be changed now. We sat down on my bed again and I was desperately wishing we could watch TV...a college football game, anything. "Hey, Bull -- why haven't you set up your TV or stereo yet? I brought a little portable TV with me but I never plugged it in after seeing how nice yours was." "I would have, but I guess I'd rather not have any useless noise when you're around. You say interesting things. Way more interesting than anything in a Pringle's commercial." That was a nice thing to hear...but also a little creepy. The room seemed to have gotten even smaller all of the sudden. I wondered if I should just tell him I wanted to sleep now. I'd take a few more drinks from the bottle first. I had an uncle who was a blackout drunk. He'd drink until he was suddenly asleep. How much booze did it take to get to that point? Uncle Kyle crashed his car into a concrete barrier when I was 14. It was terrible to see how badly my father took the news that his brother had indirectly taken his own life. I didn't want to think about that now so I took bigger sips of the vodka. I wanted to erase so many things "Hey. Brent?" "Yeah?" "Remember when you said 'I won't make you do anything you don't want to'?" "Yes, I remember." "Don't ever say that again. In case you haven't noticed -- I'm pretty meek. Very shy. I need someone to take charge." Right as the words left my mouth, I felt a droplet of blood run down my chin. It fell onto my bare stomach and looked so red that it reminded me of the fake blood I used to buy at Halloween. Fascinating. "Deal." We continued to drink and my coma never came. I didn't even have an upset stomach -- which is weird because I'd forgotten to eat any dinner. I was forgetting meals a lot lately. Bull still had his robe on but had untied the belt and let his enormous boner stick straight out. I found the foreskin so interesting -- mainly because mine had been snipped at birth. I liked how he moved it moved back and forth over the head. It was like a magic trick to me. The head of his dick was bright, shiny and wet. I'd only ever seen myself ejaculate...maybe I'd get to watch another man cum now. The prospect of that was thrilling. "I'm getting a little dizzy, Bull. I think I might need to sleep now." "No. You're not. You are going to take off the rest of your clothes now. Do it." I had told him to take charge, and I guess he was starting now. I stripped and felt like a fool just standing naked there in front of him. I was so skinny and weak-looking compared to him. He was a grown man and I was just a whisper. Vapor. "Nice. You need some sun, but everything else is beautiful. You glow. Now get on the floor, on your knees." I knew what was coming (so to speak). He would want me to put his penis in my mouth. That would be actual sex. Or would it? Nobody ever told me the true definition. My high school friend Arna had sex with some older guy when we were juniors. She was relieved to not be a virgin anymore. But wasn't oral sex still sex? I was probably getting ahead of myself. Maybe he just wanted me to suck on his toes again while he beat off. He stood up and held that meat an inch from my face. I could feel the heat from it. "Go ahead, Babe. You can kiss it." There was no going back. I felt lightheaded as I moved closer to plant a big smooch on that pucker of extra skin at the end of his shaft. It smelled and tasted cleaner than the rest of him. I saw a drop of my blood where I'd just kissed it. He must have seen it too. "It's okay, Babe. Pull the skin back and keep going." When I eased the hood back, that beautiful swollen head was revealed. It was a marvel. The slit was already dripping some clear fluid that I knew was called 'pre-sum'. I knew it served the same biological purpose that women 'getting wet' did. Natural lube for the purpose of creating babies. My own dick produced it sometimes, but on a very irregular basis. I touched the tip of my tongue to it. How could I not? It was surprisingly sweet and reminded my taste buds of canned peaches somehow. "You are going to do this, Babe -- but I will be as patient as you need me to be. Start sucking." I started by getting that whole slimy knob in my mouth. I sucked on it like a jawbreaker for a few seconds before daring myself to move it further toward the back of my tongue. There was a small spurt of fluid that shot from the slit. Was it over? Had I made him cum already. "Oops. Sorry. I guess I had a little piss left in there." Oh. It turned me on a little to do something so depraved. I just kept going until I felt like I might involuntarily throw up. The gag reflex -- which had its own biological purpose. I was undaunted because I really wanted to do this right and make Bull feel good. When my airway was blocked by his dick, I backed off a little and inhaled oxygen through my nose. "Not bad for a beginner. You're lucky I'm so close to nutting." I was now inspired to really try to stimulate that Bull semen out of him and swallow it. I moved back to the head and then plunged down again and again. I reached up and grabbed his beefy ass cheeks which made him thrust his hips a little more. When he twisted his fingers into my hair and started pulling it hard, I just shot a load all over my chest and stomach. He understood, and pulled harder until he was ripping some out in clumps. The pain only fueled my desire to keep sucking. He was close. "Shit! I'm gonna cum! Oh FUUUUCK!" I felt the heavy shaft drop a load of sperm down my throat. I wished I could have tasted some of it but it was already down the pipes. Luckily he had a few more gluey shots which I made sure went into my mouth. It tasted like him, if that makes sense. Bull was breathing hard as if he'd just run a mile. I was proud of the job I'd done but also sad that it was over. I pulled away for a bit and let myself take a good long look at his heavy ball sack. Bull balls. He helped me to my feet and I suddenly felt very exhausted. "Wow. Dude. I...I can't even begin to tell you how good that felt. Shit! It's early - let's have a few more shots." Early? I had no idea if it was 11 PM or 3 AM. I was going to skip classes for awhile and let the cuts on my face heal. Plus, I probably had bald spots on my head now. I'd be wearing a baseball cap for the foreseeable future. Oh, who cares? I wanted the afterglow to last. "What time is it?" "Like I told you, it's early." It seemed to bug him that I even asked. "Sorry." "No, I'm sorry. I just love seeing you relaxed and I can be a little bossy sometimes. But you like that about me, right?" "Indeed." He took a pull from the bottle. "Oh look. You've got a little cum on your lower lip." He trailed a finger around my mouth and it felt like lip balm...the expensive kind. I felt nothing but bliss. But what happened now? Would we be doing this often? Every day? Would I have any skin left on my face in a few weeks? I lost the bliss and became my worrisome self again. I was once again one of those people that needs answers. We drank a little while longer and then exhaustion hit him as it had already hit me. I was already naked so all I had to do was get under the sheets. Bull switched off the lamp that been on during everything. Shadows. While it was nice to be getting some rest, it was also bad because I now had time to think about what I'd just done. His dirt, sweat, urine and semen had all made direct contact with my bloodstream. I thought of one this one girl I knew who sometimes hooked up with a guy who refused to wear a rubber. She'd probably come down from a sexual high only to worry about possibly being pregnant. I suddenly knew what kind of thoughts went through her head as she tried to sleep. A man who probably had a deadly virus inside of him had probably just given it to me. A silent little parasite, waiting for the signal to make me sick. It couldn't be undone now. The finality of it gave me some measure of peace. There was a whirring noise in my head....the alcohol was sloshing in my brain and up against my eardrums. The ocean. "The moon is made of metal." What? Huh? Bull must be talking in his sleep. "I thought it was mostly rock." Maybe I could have a sleep conversation with him like he claimed he often had with me. "Remember to always believe me, Ken. What I say is always true." Oh, I guess he was awake and thinking I was asleep. I waited. "Can you remember that?" "Yes." "Good. You must start to obey me with no second thoughts. It's what you really want after all." "Yes." "You won't be going home for Thanksgiving. You want to stay here with me." "I do. Yes." Sleep was pulling at me so hard. "Now continue to sleep deeply and have a healing rest. You will feel great when you wake up. Understand?" "Yes." "You'll stay in bed all morning. One more thing...you will not regret anything we did tonight." "Yes."

I'm a full-grown adult now, but that totally happened without my consent. I was never ready to be an a grownup and take responsibility for my own life. This would be particularly embarrassing if I were to admit my real age now -- which I won't. Let's just say that I was a child of the 1980's, and leave it that. Was it because I was an only child, born to parents who'd wanted a big family? And treated me like a baby for far too long? People think only kids are spoiled and that's certainly correct. Or at least it was back then. That status comes with a price, though. All of my parents' expectations were put on me instead of spread out among three or four siblings. I was pushed to read books before I was even fully comfortable with the alphabet. It was a confusing. I remember Dad handing me the evening paper when he came home from work and telling me to be prepared to discuss what I'd read at the dinner table. Pressure. Oh man. I couldn't decipher much. "Well?", my dad would ask as he forked meat loaf into his mouth. "There's a movie coming to The Twilight called "Tron". It looks good. Can we go see it?" His expression told me that we would not. "Did you read any of the news stories? We need to get you a tutor. I've already got some names. Meanwhile -- finish your plate, drink your milk and the go watch CNN. Soak up some real news for once." For once? They were always watching that channel. None of it was very interesting to me. I gave no shits about politics or Reagan or any of stuff. But an emerging story did catch my attention. There was a deadly disease spreading around gay communities that they couldn't figure out. All they knew was that Africans had started it and it had something to do with monkeys. Possibly. I just wasn't old enough to dissect this information. As horrific as this story was, it did help me strive to learn more. My reading skills improved rapidly due to my interest in AIDS. It was a medical mystery that had elements of horror and sex. Gay men were getting sick and dying after sucking or doing other things with an infected dick. Sperm and blood seemed to be part of it. By sixth grade, I was going to the public library and poring through periodicals for more information. Would I get this disease? I was probably gay -- was that enough to doom me? I read the articles with a chill running up my neck and over my scalp. A year or so later, I read about the Patient Zero. He was supposedly the guy who introduced the disease to our country. His name was Gaetan Dugas...a Canadian flight attendant who had brought the virus to New York. He was handsome, blonde and athletic. I looked at his black and white photo over and over. He was responsible for this mess, but that didn't make him any less beautiful to look at. He died in 1983. His kidneys had failed because of the AIDS virus. I skipped Junior High altogether because the administration decided I was "advanced". If they only knew I spent all my free time lusting after an older blonde man who was dead now. You can only guess how hard it was to look ten years old and be in a classroom with teens who were developing adult bodies. I was made fun of and picked on every single day! Miserable...but I kept my head down and advanced. Most of the teachers seemed to dislike me too, but were still giving me good grades. When would I ever fit in anywhere? Never? The Summer before junior year, I grew into a man. My voice got deeper and my height increased by almost a foot. "Growth Spurt" was what hey called it. I don't think my spinal cord was ready for it because it started to curve a bit. You couldn't tell unless my shirt was off -- which it never was. I'd been lucky enough to miss P.E. classes. I spent my time reading or daydreaming. AIDS was of no concern to the kids around me. It was 'a fag disease', and it happened 'somewhere else'. I was still obsessed with it though. Maybe it was the sexual aspect of it. I sat in the library and read all the magazines that featured stories about the emerging epidemic. I remember one piece in "Newsweek" about the devastation in San Francisco. There was a black and white photo of a solitary man wearing only a white towel, sitting alone on a bench. It was taken in the city's only remaining bath house. I had no idea what a bath house was...it seemed like a big locker room. Was this the kind of place where sexy Gaetan had gone to first spread the viral load he had between his legs. I'm sure they had those kind of places in New York. Maybe he went to one of those gay bars...like 'The Dark" which was in our town. I imagined what it was like back in the early 80's. I knew a lot from reading, and I knew that over a decade had passed since The Stonewall Riots. Gays were fighting for rights and (slowly) becoming a presence in American culture. They didn't have to worry about unwanted pregnancy, they fucked with no worries. I imagined a smoky bar full of hot gay men, drinking beer from bottles and touching each other. Lots of leather. They'd think nothing of a dashing blonde walking in and ordering a drink. He was handsome, but there were probably a hundred handsome there. Competition. He had a ticking bomb inside him that would change gay life for many years. Inside of his balls was a virus that would claim so many millions of lives, but on that particular night he was just a face in the crowd. I thought about who he'd meet first, who would buy him a drink and flirt with him. Did he have a French accent like some Canadians do? Is it weird that I wanted to be the guy who found him first? If only I could go back in time and be 'Patient One'. I guess the responsible thing would be to kill the both of us afterward, but I don't know if I could do that. I was leading such a sexless life then that I would take whatever from whomever. You could say that I was a 'bug chaser' before the term existed. If only. Did death and disease turn me on? Possibly. Fast forward to my 18th birthday. I was in my third year of college and had changed quite a bit. I lived in one of those "progressive" dorms. You know -- artists, hippies, Wiccans. etc. I was smoking clove cigarettes and took a drink from time to time. My roommate was a 'performance artist' and was usually on a mushroom trip. We got along. I was working on a double major and didn't really pay attention to what went on around me. There was a smoking room in the school's giant library. and I'd go there every hour or so to get my fix. Of course there would be one or two gay dudes there. One of them would always make eye contact with me, but I wasn't into him. Not at all. I had a 'type' and he wasn't even close. I liked the menacing, dangerous type. He had a man purse, for Christ's sake. I was coming back from the library when I first felt the pain in my chest. I thought it was from the cold air. I continued on back toward the dorms, but they were so far. Maybe if I just sat for a minute... blackness I remember feeling so much better a few minutes later, better than I'd ever felt. I remember bits and pieces of falling to the sidewalk on campus. I might have hit my head...or had heart failure. Whatever -- I guess I died. Right? Was there any kind of official confirmation from an angel or something when you passed on? Did God chime in with a "howdy-do"? Maybe that happened for normal people, good people. I was alone in darkness, listening to loud traffic and footsteps and crowds talking. Maybe if everybody shut up for a minute, I could hear the tiny voice of my deceased grandmother. Maybe... "Oh, Honey! Did you start too early? Let me help you up, OK?" A drag queen in a blonde wig with shoulders like a linebacker lifted me to my feet. I was in a city that I guessed was New York based on the skyline. Yep. I was dead. This was too unreal to be not unreal. "Can you walk? Do you need a cab?" I suddenly felt just fine. Perfect, actually. I was aware that I was dressed differently...very differently. I was wearing black leather boots with small silver chains across the tops of my feet. My jeans were grubby and torn -- as was my white t-shirt. I had on a leather jacket that was boss as hell. Yep. This was either a dream or a post-death illusion. I turned to the drag queen and 'her' companion. She was tall and dolled-up to the max. She might have been going for a Mae West look, but was too tall and thin to pull it off convincingly. Her friend was a short, dumpy little guy who looked bored and on the verge of a making a run for it. I just walked with them for a block or two. "What year is this?" "Lordy! Are you that far gone? Did you drink too much tonight?" "No. I think I'm dead. I'm supposed to be in 1992." Mae West stopped and grabbed my arm. "Dear me. Eddie -- we are in the company of a time-traveler here!" The dumpy dude just looked at his watch and sighed. "No. I'm just a little confused is all. Please tell me today's date and I'll leave you two alone." "It is May 1st, 1981. You are probably headed to 'The Eagle's Nest', right? You've got the look. We're going further up the block to someplace a little more friendly. Come join us later if you get a chance. Here you go, Sweetie. That black door under the light bulb is your place. Do you still have your wallet with you?" Fuck if I knew. Yeah. I did. It was thick with cash, but no credit cards, no student I.D. . "Yeah. I'm good. Thanks for your help, Beautiful Angel." She blew me a kiss and moved on. I was here the same night Patient Zero had arrived in town on a layover. I was getting my chance to be his first 'victim'. I guess that was why I was here. To let the AIDS virus begin and end with me. He'd be sick and dying in a short tine and I was already dead -- so what would be the problem? Once inside the door, I was immediately struck by how many hot men were there. New York. All the beauties migrated to this city. Where was Gaetan? Had he not arrived yet? I had no idea what time it was, but it seemed early. I got a beer from the bar and maneuvered through the crowd of men until I found a space to lean against the grimy wall. A handsome man - dressed just like I was - came up and offered me a cigarette. "Hi. I'm Tommy. Are you new in town?" "Very." "I thought so. You like it so far?" "Yeah. I'm waiting for someone, but this place is so big. It's just important that we meet." "Well..this place has four levels. This is the main bar, and there's a dance floor upstairs. The top level is completely dark and you can get into the heavy stuff. The basement is only open for brown or yellow parties." "What are those?" "God, you really are new. 'Yellow Parties' are for men who like to piss on each other and drink piss and stuff like that. 'Brown Parties' are pretty much the same except with shit instead of pee. It's invitation only, but I can introduce you to the guy who works here and makes the guest list." He arched his eyebrows and looked at me with some sort of flirty expectation. "Uh. No. I don't think so." He probably regretted buying me a beer. Did he do it so I'd later urinate it on him? Who knows. This was like being in a foreign country and dealing with locals who knew everything already. I decided to move more toward the entrance so I could catch a glimpse of Gaetan when he entered. I also needed to find the restroom. I'd drank that beer a little too fast. Jesus -- who knows what I'd find in there? I asked a big fat guy with a tattooed neck where the restrooms were, and he pointed me in the direction. My bladder was about to burst as I found my way inside the dimmest, grossest bathroom in the world. Was I in Hell now? I knew I was dead but that thought took a backseat to my my desperate need to piss. Normally, I'm one of those 'pee shy' guys who can't go if anyone else is near. Fuck that now. I let loose a long, thick stream in the only empty urinal and groaned a little. I knew there were men all around me...and maybe they had thoughts or comments about me...or maybe not. It was probably pointless to wash my hands, but I always did it back when I was alive. Habit. Then I saw my reflection in the smeared mirror. Who the hell was that?! I guess it looked like me in some ways, but I was older (28? 29?) and the shape of my jaw had changed. It was more square and had a cleft in my chin. I looked like a guy I'd be attracted to. The afterlife wasn't so bad after all. I moved back through the crowd to find a spot close to the entrance. There was a table that looked like a strategic place to sit and watch for Gaetan. There was another dude sitting there, but the confidence I felt from my fake new looks. He wouldn't mind. He was a bearded big guy in full leather drag...including the cop cap. "Howdy. Mind if I sit here for a second?" "Not at all. I've never seen you here before..are you new in town?" "You could say that." "I did say that. You don't have a drink....let me get you one. What's your brand?" His big brown eyes crinkled when he smiled. "Anything. I'll have what your having." He stood up from the bar stool, looking all tall and massive. It occurred to me that I could suck this stud's dick and let him fuck me, and there would be no consequences...except maybe a few of those STDs that weren't life-threatening. I wasn't really here, so why not just have as much fun as possible? The music from the dance floor upstairs got louder all the sudden. Donna Summer...'I feel loooo-ooove' . My big grizzly returned with a two bottles of a weird beer I'd never seen before and two shot glasses. I knew how it worked. You downed the shot and the drank the beer. Right? I have no idea what the liquor in the shot was, but it had a nice burn. We sipped the brews and got friendly. "I'm Burt. What's your name?" "Ross. Nice to meet you. It's getting loud in here all of the sudden." "Midnight. So I guess you've never been here before." "Nope. I talked to some guy earlier who told me about all the levels. I'd like to check them out...but not the basement." He grinned. "It stinks like an outhouse down there. There's black garbage bags covering the floor and walls...and weird stuff like random bathtubs and ...it's not my thing." "Do you dance?" "I LOVE to dance, but I usually don't because I look like a giant circus animal on the dance floor." "Nah. I want to dance with you, Burt." He warmed to the idea and led me up the stairs to where disco beats were still alive and thriving. And so loud. Blondie started cooing out an extended version of "Heart of Glass". Even though only about ten guys were there, I grabbed Burt's giant hand and led him out under the spinning lights. Songs like that get inside your body and make it move for you. I was really enjoying myself, but felt like I was overheating. I moved my mouth close to his ear and asked if there was a safe place I could leave my jacket. He nodded. We both took our leather off and he carried them somewhere. Such a cool relief. When Burt returned he made a comment about my body. It seemed like he thought I should remove my t-shirt too. Uh, no. I was very shy in my old life and never exposed my underdeveloped torso -- plus there was that curve in my back. But what the hell? I was in a death dream or something anyway. My face had changed, and so maybe my body did too. "I will if you will." That's all it took for him to rip the shirt from my body as he also removed mine. He tossed them over his shoulder like pieces of trash. I might have been upset if not for the sight of his abundant body hair and impressive build. Big bulge as well. I'd forgotten all about Patient Zero now. I wanted to have sex with Burt. Soon. Sadly, the Blondie song smoothly transitioned into a thumping disco song I'd never heard. Burt said something I didn't quite hear. I gave him a look that was supposed to say "what?", but he just got closer and wrapped me in a big sweaty hug. Then the music stopped (or so I thought) and the room went completely dark... "Open your eyes, Ross. ROSS! Wake up and look at us!" My mother's voice. "I think his color is better today. A little. Open your eyes right now, young man!" Dad. Another voice mumbled. A woman. I'm almost certain it was my aunt Bev. Maybe. "Do they know yet? Do they know what caused this?" "Not yet. I thought for sure it was speed or some other drug, but I checked his computer at the dorm and his phone. No clues there." Good old dad. "His heartbeat is almost regular now and he can breathe on his own, but he won't wake up." "The doctor is supposed to check in before noon." Mom sounded hopeful. Then it was back to the dance floor with Burt all over me. We weren't even dancing, just vertically humping. "You stumbled. Are you wasted?" "No. Just halfway between life and death." "That's all of us, Ross." He grinned and I was now certain that I wanted to have sex with him...while this dream/afterlife lasted. "Show me the upstairs, Burt." Another wide grin. "You sure? There's no light and usually crazy shit going on." "Yeah, I'm not really here anyway. Lead the way." For whatever reason, Burt seemed to like my cryptic words. Or maybe he just thought I was drunk. Fine line. "The stairs are a little steep...and completely unlit. I'll go first, but grab my belt so you you can follow safely." "How about I just grab your ass?" "That works, Buddy!" Total darkness. I thought he was giving me further instructions, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. "Ross! We know you can hear us, Honey. Your brain waves and blood pressure are almost normal. Talk! Wake up!" My poor mom. If only she would leave me alone for a little longer. "It was a heart attack," my dad said. "Apparently he's got a faulty valve. It has a name, but I can't remember it." Dad. "Can it be fixed?" That was my cool aunt again. I was glad she was keeping my joyless parents company. "He's gay, by the way. There is some shit on the laptop that confirms it. He was apparently obsessed with the guy who brought AIDS to North America." God love my aunt...her own brain waves were always amped to the max. "He may have been working on a term paper...and would have found out that the guy they called 'Patient Zero' was not the real culprit. Apparently, HIV came to the United States in the 70's. and it sprang up in several cities at about the same time." "Who gives a good goddamn?! He's a gay kid in a coma. Don't say one more word for now, Bev." Count on Dad to always have my back. "Damn, kid. You stumbled again. Are you sure you're up for this?" Burt grabbed my hand with his giant paw. "Yeah. I don't see so well in the dark." "We're in luck. There's a little bit of light. Little camping lanterns or something. Too bad we're here already...I liked you holding my ass." "The pleasure was all mine, Burt." He wrapped a massive arm around my shoulders. "The bar is right up here in the front. I need something strong just now...you?" "VERY strong." I heard all kinds of sex noises from every direction. 'Enjoy it while you can' was all I thought. Burt left me alone there in the semi-dark. That's when I saw him. Gaeten. I knew it was him because I'd memorized what his photos looked like. He was striking, with that blonde hair and mustache. He was standing (maybe shorter than I'd thought), right next to one of those little lanterns because I guess he knew he looked good lit from below. It made his jaw look stronger and sharper. He was not at all muscular, but his features were striking. I considered my situation. I had Burt - who was fetching me a drink, and who I was attracted to -- and I also felt as though I was here on a mission and had to do this...get his infected seed somehow. We locked eyes and I smiled in his direction. He responded instantly and motioned me over. I went right to him like I was in a trance. "Hi. I think I know you. You work for a Canadian airline, right? He was taken aback a little... "How did you know? I've only been to New York four times before, and I never met a guy that looked like you." I was either drunk or cocky ... or stupid when I said "You're famous." That somehow made him feel good about himself because he put a small finger to my face, "Ahhh. Thanks. I'm a real blonde -- just so you know." I was about to say another flirty thing when Burt found me, and wrapped me up in his big,bare arm. He pulled me to the side a bit... "He's a dud. I've fucked him twice -- and he fucked me once. Smallest dick ever. I barely felt it, but he does have that French passion. The accent was the only reason I let him fuck me a month ago. Twice. I don't like getting fucked, but I was okay with it." So I guess I wasn't going to be 'Patient One' -- maybe not two or three either. Did this mean Burt was infected? It didn't make sense. Why was I here? Why now? I knew from some movie I watched once that little brain adventures like this happened for a reason. Was I suppose to learn a life lesson? What was the end game? "Let's go somewhere and talk, Burt." At first he grinned like 'talk' was code for 'fuck', but I think he could tell by my expression that I was troubled by something. "What's wrong? Did you want the French guy to join us? I'd be open to just about anything tonight." "No. Do you know what's going on? Are you part of this? I just need to know if all of you here are in on it." "Uh oh. You're on something, right?" "No...I mean...I'm not sure." He took my hand and led me through a maze of guys getting blow jobs and doing other stuff. We were at the far end of the room with a little battery-powered lantern on the floor. "Guys always steal these things and take them home. That way they see some sponsor's logo every day. I'll grab one for you if I want." "Sure -- but I don't think I live here in New York, or even have a place." I was about to elaborate a little more but I stumbled again. Backwards. I'd stepped on and fell back on a large gym mat. I remember these from P.E. class. Burt plopped down too. "I think you need to just clear your head a little. Relax. At least this mat feels relatively clean. Rest for a minute, Ross. I'll be right back." I was flat on my back, looking at dancing shadows and listening to grunts, moans, and "Fuck yeah!"s. I had to be dead. That was the only explanation for this. For all I knew there could be gateway to Narnia nearby. Then Burt was back down on the mat with me. He had two more beers for us and some things in a plastic baggie. "What's that?" "I scored some lube and poppers from a friend of mine who works at the bar. Am I assuming too much? I just want to fuck the weirdness out of you, Buddy." "Yeah. I want that. I've never done poppers before, but I know what they are." He opened a tiny little bottle and sniffed the opening. "Sit up a little. There you go. Now inhale through your nose, deep. I'm going to take your boots off." It reminded me of some smell from a mechanics garage. And then I felt my head spin...in a good way. Burt had taken off my boots, socks, pants and underwear. Good. And the he took off the rest of his clothes and it was a sight to behold....the lantern light made his naked body look otherworldly somehow. His big sweaty boner looked like some sort of beautiful monster from where I was viewing it. Hell, that thing made a long shadow that reached all the way to his chin. Wow. All man. "Yeah. I knew it. You're an angel of some sort." "Never been called that before. How do you like it? On your back?" "However you want. I've never done this, Burt. Take over." I didn't need to say much more because already working a fat finger covered with lube into mt butt hole. My friend Arna from high school told me all about her first time. She said it was the same kind of pain as if you pulled your earlobe really hard. His big finger was already causing me some discomfort, and he was breathing heavily as he worked deeper into my ass. I think he had two fingers up there by the time I took my third sniff from the bottle of poppers. Maybe three fingers. I felt open and free of worry. "Lift your knees up as close to your chest as you can. Good. Just like that. Now...get ready." His full weight was on me and I was thankful for the cushion beneath me. Burt's erection was poking all around my hole, trying to find the prize. He found it. DAMN! It hurt when he snaked it in, but I didn't complain at all. "Ahhh. Wow." "Damn, boy. You are so tight down there...it's like a fist is grabbing my cock. If you don't loosen up a little, I'm going to fucking cum too fast..." "Do it, Burt. Get me pregnant!" "You can't open a little? Just a little?" As much as I willed myself to relax, it wasn't happening. Burt was thrusting and sweating as his shadowy expression told me he was close to an orgasm. Was he about to infect me? he had to..or this "journey" was pointless. He went all the way to the end of my insides and groaned loudly. He was emptying his load into the center of me. "FUCK! I....I hope I didn't hurt you too bad." I answered him with a deep kiss and let him rest on top of me for a minute. We'd drawn a small crowd of guys in various stages of arousal. I can almost remember being shy and easily-embarrassed. They moved closer. As soon as Burt stood up, another dude was on top of me. I didn't agree to this, but I was in no position to fight back. I wondered if Burt would rescue me, but he seemed to not care. "Go ahead and get a piece of that...he's a mental case and probably high as hell." A total of seven guys fucked me as the night went on. The lanterns were losing power and the room got darker, but I still recognized the face of the slender guy fucking me...it was Gaetan. He did indeed have passion in his hips. "Thank you for doing this." He was confused. "Uh. My pleasure. Remember me when you get back." That was an odd thing to say, but I was in an odd world. Then all the lanterns finally died out and I was in blackness again. I felt used and abused, but it didn't matter. "He's awake. His eyelids are fluttering and he looked right at me for half a second." Mom. "Ross? How do you feel? Can you speak to me, honey?" I tried to open my mouth, but I felt completely dehydrated and unable to form words. "You're in the hospital. You had an episode with your heart, but it can be repaired with surgery. You'll be good as new after that." Well, that was good. "They have to wait to do the procedure until your fever comes down. Hospitals are so full of germs -- you never know what you're going to catch." "You have no idea," I thought.

Great story! Back when I used to believe in stuff, I tried to summon an incubus. There are really no good instructions online...for men seeking a gay encounter. I understand the desire, though. Please keep writing.

pt. 1 is here "That's Aldo. He told me was Puerto Rican. We ended up dating a little after the movie was over." On screen,they traded blow jobs and then Aldo fucked him from behind. No condom, but lots of lubricant from somewhere. It was hot, but got monotonous after a few minutes. "This scene was short over the course of two hours because he kept losing his woody. But wait a few seconds. It was a close-up shot of Aldo's bare ass pumping vigorously into Houston. He was a vocal top and never stopped 'shit' and 'fuck'. "Right there! See how he pauses and squeezes his ass together? And then just keeps going? He'd already shot his load inside of me, but then a few minutes later, he claims he can't cum and is losing his boner. The director told him to take a break." Wow. I was having a hard time wrapping my brain around all of this. "Not many poz guys get the moment they were bugged on tape." "I do," Lloyd said quietly. "That's a homemade tape, and you knew what was happening at the time." Carl turned to me. "We don't share that one." I was stunned, silent. "Do we have to watch the rest of this? At least let me mute it." Lloyd pressed the remote and we all then sat and watched in silence for a few minutes. I was ready to explode with so many feelings and could not handle the quiet. I turned to Lloyd. "Do you have an HIV+ tattoo as well?" He looked at Carl "You showed him that picture?? Why?" "I just showed him the one on my belly. He said he liked all the pics, so I guess that means the tat one too." "Oh. OK. Yes, Matt. I went and got one as a surprise for Carl, but he doesn't like it." "It's just badly placed and they made it too big." "Can I see it?" I suppose it was time to get things going. Lloyd stood in the middle of the living room and peeled off his shirt. There it was. On the right side of his torso was a huge bio-hazard symbol onside a circle with some Latin words around it. It covered that entire part of his rib cage. I could do nothing but stare. "I designed it myself. It took all day, and there was supposed to be color added the next afternoon, but I couldn't handle any more pain." I guess he read too much in my stare because he took off his shoes, socks and pants as well. Oh God. I was in this now. His underwear bulge was big and odd looking. "Jesus, Lloyd. You gonna dance now?" Carl sounded very annoyed. "You gotta have music to dance...hold on." He went to the stereo and then there was gay bar music. Erasure was the group I think. "Wait. Matt hasn't seen my new tattoos yet." Carl then stripped completely nude. So weird to see a video take and the real thing at once. He was only about half hard but still very daunting. His eyes met mine for a second. I guess they both knew by now that I wasn't mad... just horny and willing. "Check it out" he said as he turned around to show me his backside. I saw the red kissing lips he had inked on his left butt cheek. It seemed kind of dumb, but whatever. "And this one." He lifted his foot in the air and held his right calf out so I could see the little tat of a scorpion. I got on my knees to get a better look. "You know what that signifies?" "You're a Scorpio?" He laughed. "I was born the day after Christmas. So I'm not a Scorpio." He turned around and I saw he was completely erect. Damn! It was a work of art. I guess Lloyd was feeling a little left out because he came up right behind me and stood. "Yeah, he's got a porn-perfect cock, but mine is like nothing you've ever seen." He was sure right about that. I turned around and there was this giant, potato-like dick that didn't seem to be possible. It was so pale and weird. I marveled and couldn't even really tell if he was cut or not. So odd. "Well. If you don't kiss it, my feelings will be hurt." I leaned over a kissed the underside of the head and reached one hand out to feel his nut sack. It was tight and wrinkly, and the texture was similar to the bottom of rain boot. "Lloyd! You can't make the poor guy try to take that. He's new and you'll make him suffer. BACK OFF!" Lloyd stepped away from my face and hand. Carl was the boss here, I guess. "Give him to me for a little. Hey, Matt....want to kiss the lip tattoo?" Yes. I crawled over and put my lips directly on the ink. I thought about how many times I'd heard the phrase 'kiss my ass' without ever picturing it as an actual activity. I smooched his butt cheek and reached around to his crotch with one hand. He was hard as slab of marble. "Move to my crack, OK?" I did. I inhaled the man musk and wasn't the least bit offended. I rubbed my nose up and down the crevice -- knowing my mouth on his hole. I had never imagined I'd like it as much as I did. It wasn't so much the smell or the taste that was appealing as much as it was servicing someone confident and in charge. "Oh damn, that's gonna get me off! I...damn!" I pulled away only because I wanted him to cum a different way. "I guess we're not in the doghouse anymore, Carl. He might even be into us." "Yeah...he's pretty horned up. I'm going to take him to my room now." "Can I join you...or at least watch?" Lloyd sounded like a kid begging his dad for a toy. "We'll see. Leave us in private for a little while. Come on, Matt. Let's go play around." I followed naked Carl to a dim room. The bed was neatly made and there was a cozy lamp already on next to it. This had all been planned. I was grinning on the inside. "Take your clothes off...let me get a look at what I've got here." I did. Quickly, giving away how eager I was. "Wow." he said as he rubbed my chest and shoulders. "You're skin is so smooth. Nice dick too. Turn around and let me see that ass. Oh FUCK! That's so cute and tiny. Shit!" He maneuvered me to the bed and lied me flat on my back. I suppose there was no going back now. He then climbed on top of me and his nude weight pushed me deeper down into the mattress. I felt his dick rub against mine as we kissed. If this was all there was to fucking, I'd still say I loved sex. I mean it. I didn't need anything more. But of course we had just started. "You've never been fucked before?" "I have once. My very first boyfriend fucked me when I was 21. It didn't feel all that great, but at least we used a condom. I thought I loved him." I couldn't believe that, with everything that was happening just then, I was talking about that jerk. "Did you use lube?" "Yeah. KY." "Oh, there's way better stuff now. What about poppers?" "No. I've heard about that. I know what it is." "We'll probably need some and I've got a new bottle ready to go if you need it." "Sorry I'm so clueless about everything, Carl." "Shh. I'm about to give you so many clues about so many things. Hold on." He got up off the bed and rifled through a dresser drawer. My eyes were shut, but when I felt his weight back on the bed I opened them. "Since you're not all that broken in yet, the easiest position for us will be where you're on your hands and knees. Yeah. Like that. Now pull your knees closer as close to the front as you can. Good." I felt vulnerable and exposed. And then he was rubbing some oily lotion around my butt hole. He was working his finger inside of me. "Does that hurt?" "No. It's not bad." "Goddamn, you are really tight. You need to be opened up all over again. Let me try two fingers..." Now that hurt a little. "Relax, baby. I need to get at least three fingers in there before we can do anything more." He shifted a little and produced a little brown bottle with the cap off. "Inhale through one nostril ...as deeply as you can. Good. One more. How you feelin' now?" My head lifted into the clouds as my body sank into a warm lake. I was relaxed at the same time I was keenly aware of my nerve endings. The nerve endings in my ass wanted him to never take those fingers away. My heart was beating in a faster and deeper like a disco song's bass line. I was aware that Carl was taking his own sniffs of that magic potion now. I kept my eyes closed because I was really digging the flashing dots showing themselves, encouraging me. I lifted my head again and asked him for a few more whiffs. "Okay...but how about just one for now. I've got four fingers in you already." Wow. At that second I would have taken five or six. I took more deep huff and everything I loved about the effects doubled. I almost cried when he slowly took his fingers out little by little. I was almost in mourning for that sensation when He poked the hot head of his big dick between my butt cheeks. I felt a little jolt of pain try to get my attention, but I willed it leave me alone. "Get ready. Take one more sniff, OK?" He let me have three inhales. That little hurt I'd felt was so far gone beneath of the sound of blood flowing past my eardrums. "Here we go." And then he drilled all the way inside of me. Shit! This pain was harder to fight back. It felt like his cock was three foot long and was hitting my neck from down there. I cried out a little, but he rescued me with the sacred bottle to smell. "Fuck, man....this is so fucking nice. Here -- can you hold the bottle. Take as much as you need." Oh, I sure did. The bed moved again as I felt Lloyd's hands on the side of my head. He was squatting down in front of me on the bed. How perfect! He pushed the head of that freakish penis up to my lips. The two of them didn't say a word to each other. I was just a pleasure object to these men and I loved that idea. Carl picked up the pace of his thrusting and was breathing heavily. It didn't occur to me at that moment that I had two HIV+ weapons plugged into me. It was just about the love my whole body was feeling. Every single cell. "Lloyd, Buddy, are you getting close?" "Almost, You?" "I'm gonna fucking shoot ....NOW!" He heaved and then was still like a statue. "Cum on his back." A few seconds later I felt heavy drops of Lloyd's hot semen puddle onto my spine. "Good job." Carl drug his fingers through it and scooped some onto his shaft that had partly pulled out out of me. He plowed back in and the mixture of their hot loads were pounded up inside of my ass. "Just keeping it all in the family," They both laughed. We collapsed in a pile and I my ass empty again. The slush of so much cum, sweat and probably blood was not comfortable. We were a trio of funky brothers sleeping in a post-lust pile. At some point, I had a cramp in my shoulder from sleeping in such a weird position. I needed the bathroom anyway, so I peeled myself away from the heap of men. The bathroom was neat and clean for something shared by two males. I had dried blood/goo on my backside, and I cleaned up with wet toilet paper. My butt was aching, but in an almost wonderful way. I stepped into the hall and Lloyd was right there to meet me. "Everything OK?" He was naked and still beautiful. "Yeah. My shoulder hurts and I think I'm going to crash on your couch if that's alright." "No problem. I can only get good sleep when I'm all alone in bed. I'll bring you some stuff." He came back with a pillow, blanket and a pair of cotton shorts. "In case you don't like to sleep nude. Want some socks?" "No. Thanks. This is all I need." I was suddenly very tired. "Let me get you all tucked-in, Matt." He fussed and made sure I was comfortable. This felt better. I watched his ass as he walked away. "Hold on." He came back with a glass of water and a bunch of antacid tablets. "In case you get stomach acid from the wine. Carl always does." "Thanks, man." He knelt right next to me with his face a few inches from mine. "I need to tell you something else." I got scared all of the sudden. More surprises? "You need to know that your pal Theresa helped us get you. She and Carl are friends from back during his drug days. They don't get along very well, but she obviously owed him big favors for something. Holy shit. I hope this was the last plot twist. "Are you mad?" "I feel like an idiot. I mean, I'm happy that this night happened, but I always confided in her and trusted her. She was my best friend -- 'was' being the key word." "That's between her and Carl. I didn't know it was a set-up until that night after you two left. Well, I'm going to go sleep in my own bed. We can all talk about it more in the morning. Carl gave us both the day off. Me and him, I mean." And then I was alone in the dark, the almost dark. We'd left the TV on and it was a blue 'menu' screen. I liked the light. I let sleep overtake me -- with no thoughts about the possible consequences of what I'd done earlier. There was plenty of time for that later. I slept better than I have in months. In the morning we all sat at the kitchen table in our half-dressed state. There was casual chatter mixed in with serious talk. We had so much to discuss because they'd both decided that they wanted me to come back and see if we could all have a repeat. I was more than agreeable. NOW It's still hard for me to believe that this all happened two decades ago. We are all still together and all doing fine. Gay marriage is legal now, but not for three men. Still, we consider ourselves all to be 'husband and husband and husband'. We live in a different house even though their old one meant so much to me. I never talked to Theresa again and I have no idea where she is now. I realized I will always be stupid enough to believe in love, but at least I'd found it.

TWENTY YEARS AGO Ever see pictures of yourself as a 20-something, and thought "I can't believe I was ever that young?"? I do that but I also add a "You knew NOTHING back then." as well. I really did not have a single clue when was I was 23. I'd just graduated and moved to a big city. I was gay and had my first sexual encounter with a man two months ago. He was in my technical writing class. We shyly met up for beers a few times before either of us made a move. It was safe sex all the way and not that big of a thrill. I figured we were boyfriends at that point, but we weren't. Not in his mind, anyway. I thought he was a jerk, but he was just being honest. I'd grown up my whole life thinking that gay couples followed the same path to marriage that straight people did. I'd be Joanie and find my Chachi. It would happen naturally and with no effort. It was and is confusing and painful when I got rejected. The lesson I took from the whole experience with Rico was that gay guys just fooled around and never really 'dated'. Talk about a bitter pill to swallow. I placed a single red rose on the grave of my romantic thoughts and decided to just go and have fun. I made fast friends with a girl at work. She was a chubby gal with a golden heart and a wicked sense of humor. We were always talking and laughing. I was about to confess my sexuality to her when she stopped me and said,"I know." She shrugged. "I seem to have a knack for picking gay guys." "You're the first straight person I've ever wanted to tell, Theresa." My family might not ever find out if I could help it. "I think that Brian guy in your department is gay too, but he's hiding behind Jesus." "Really? You have to teach me how to spot them." "It'll come naturally. You probably just need to go out more. I always have a blast at gay bars. You should come with me to "The Edge". My step-brother is a DJ there and I know everybody." I'd heard of the place. It was technically gay. but so hip and trendy that the young heteros had found it. "They'd never let me in there." "I'm your golden ticket, baby! We may have to go shopping first. You dress like your mom buys all your clothes. No offense." Mom actually did. "Oh. OK." "Your hair isn't so bad. The scruffy, messy look is hot now. Would you let me add a blonde streak or two?" Would I? Oh what the hell. Theresa was my fairy fagmother. "Want to come over and smoke a bowl with me after work, have a 'happy hour'?" She later arrived at my door my door with a legal pad. "What's that? Your dream journal?" "No, Funny Boy. I need to look at your wardrobe and make notes of what you need to get...which I'm guessing is a lot." She waddled straight to my bedroom and started going through my stuff. I stood there like a charity case while she looked and took notes. "Shoes is at the top of the list. You need something besides loafers and gym shoes. Boots, maybe. And some black jeans. We basically can't use anything you have. We need to hit the mall...and a few vintage stores. You need some funk, some edge." We got stoned and watched some old science fiction movie. "And my hair?.." "Oh, I'll handle that myself. I think I'm changing my mind about the blonde streak, though. We can wait until later for that. I'm going to turn you into a new Matt." That whole next week, we shopped for me. I normally just found shit in my size and bought it. Theresa made me try everything on so she could judge it. I was getting sick of her voice after a few days. We went to thrift stores and scary little consignment shops. I only had two credit cards and we killed one of them totally. I hated being so helpless when it came to fashion. I hoped that aspect of my gayness will emerge at some point. By Friday, I was so far beyond prepared that it was almost like we'd already gone out. I arrived at Theresa's apartment sometime after 8 PM. She made me come to her place because that was where she kept all the 'final touches' I'd need. I would only let her put a minimal amount of makeup on me, but let her have final say on the hair. She fussed over me and made little adjustments and then I was a finished product. I looked like a crazy convict dressed to attend a hip private school. I thought I looked ready to go trick-or-treating, but just thanked her for all her efforts. "Ready to go?" "Are you kidding? Nobody goes out this early! Let's stay here and have a few drinks...just be careful how you sit...and don't touch your face or your hair. I'll bring lip gloss with me. Settle your nerves a little, you'll sweat all my hard work away. We drank some gin and tonics and talked about everything in the world. She wanted to know if I could dance. "Not really. I dance by myself at home sometimes...but not to the kind of music you'd like." "Just don't be stiff. Move your hips a little or you'll look like a sixth-grader. If I thought you could handle it, I'd give you a little pill. We'll see. What kind of guy do you like?" "Cute, hot, casual. Sexy." "I can't guarantee there will be much 'casualness' at The Edge. Everybody there seems to love drama, but you never know. I just don't want you to get all depressed if Mr. Right isn't there tonight." "I don't believe in love. I tried to once, but I just got hurt. I'm just going out with my best friend for a few drinks." "You're not fooling me, Babe. I've tried to build a wall around my heart several times...and it crumbled over and over again." "I just want to have a good time." "OK. That's do-able. Let's go." There's no way I could describe this club that would give you the surreal impression I had when we walked in. I grabbed Theresa's hand out of panic. It was so loud and so confusing. She drug me over to a wall of mirrors and spoke into my ear. "Stay here. I'll get us a couple of drinks. Don't look so scared. Act bored if you can." I thought about the staff meetings we had at work each week -- where nothing important was ever discussed. I tried to act like I was listening to my manager talk about profits and losses or some shit. It helped me relax enough to scan the crowd. Everybody had gone through as much of a grooming ritual as I had...probably more. Perfect, pretty people. They all seemed to be having the time of their lives, throwing their heads back in laughter and kissing one another's cheeks. It seemed fake somehow. Nobody appeared to be alone. Just me....until Theresa came back with two tall drinks that were an alarming shade of blue. "I ordered vodka tonics, but I don't think he heard me right." "It's so goddamn loud in here. And I think this the same song that was playing when we walked in." "Nope. It's just not your taste. Don't hold your breath waiting for some grunge or college rock." "No kidding. Can we move somewhere quieter?" "Sorry. It only gets louder after this. They have like fifty speakers around here. I want to move us closer to the dance floor so you pick up some tips. We're going to dance eventually." It did get noisier as worked our way through the crowd. We leaned against a railing and watched the throng of dancers. I'd look like a fool out there. I saw a guy that looked so familiar. I knew him from somewhere...no...wait. He looked like somebody famous. I guess I was staring too much because he noticed. We made eye contact. I smiled too eagerly. "I see you like the cute ones," Theresa said in my ear. "You have good taste." "Doesn't he look like that one actor...the one from that movie?" "Could you be any more vague???" Maybe this electric blue drink was affecting me more than I thought. "He's a pretty good dancer. If he asks you out on the dance floor, just mirror him." "I'm not dancing tonight. One more of these drinks and I will be barely able to walk." The songs never ended...they all mixed together with no seams. How did you know when to stop? "I see some guys I know. Will you be OK here for awhile?" "Yeah. Where are the bathrooms? I need to go." "Directly behind you. I'll just be a few minutes." I carried my drink into the bathroom and put the glass on top of the urinal. I couldn't dare get piss on these pants or Theresa would kill me. I was walking out just as that guy was walking in. "Hi. Do you know who you look like?" I was so stupid. He got nervous and looked at himself in the mirror and patted down his hair with one hand. "Oh God. Who?" "Kevin Costner." He really did. A young Kevin Costner. "Oh. Wow. No way are you serious. Is it your birthday today?" "No. Why?" "You're drinking a Windex. That's what people who are celebrating or want to get really drunk have." "My friend got it for me. I think it was a mistake." "Theresa? I doubt it was a mistake." He had a beautiful smile and nice skin. "I know who she is, but we don't know each other." We left the men's room and emerged back into the crowd. I knew the song that was playing. It was that one about boys who like girls who like girls who like -- . Decent tune. He urged me out onto the dance floor. Oh God. I left my drink somewhere. I guess I'd had enough of it to not stress out about my dance abilities. It was natural and fun. At some point I saw Theresa watching us. Kevin Costner put his hands on each side of my hips and pulled me a little closer. His eyes were intense. Blazing. "Don't go falling in love," I told myself. After a the song changed, I motioned for us to please leave. I was going to introduce him to Theresa, but I didn't know his actual name and he didn't know mine. "I'm Matt, by the way." "I'm Lloyd." OK. Cool. I introduced him to my girl pal, and he was thrilled to meet her. Theresa's eyes were judging and making mental notes as she smiled pleasantly. She'd give me the scoop when we were alone. "Nice to meet you, Lloyd. Are you here with anybody?" "Just my roommate. I don't know where he went." "So he's just a roommate...not a live-in lover?" Goddamn her bluntness. "Hell no! Carl and I share rent and nothing else. He's kind of a bastard, but you can meet him if you want." I almost said there was no need, but Theresa quickly agreed. "So what's his name?" "Carl. He's a jerk, but usually good at staking out one of the few tables they have here." Sure enough, there he was at an empty table. Something about him was so striking. Tall, dark hair and pale in an almost unhealthy way. His long bony fingers were gripping a craft beer I'd never tried. Lloyd introduced us and we all settled in a circle. I offered to get us another round and Lloyd volunteered to help me. The place was getting crowded and the music was even louder which made idle chit-chat pretty difficult. We tried to shout our drink orders at the bartender and he mostly got it right. I made sure to be extra careful that I wouldn't spill something on somebody's perfect outfit. Theresa and Carl didn't seem to have much to talk about so I was glad to be back. I got the sense she didn't like Carl because she focused on Lloyd. "Do you work or are you a student?" "Both. I'm a waiter at Mazzio's and also a student at Kinney Art Institute. I work with glass mostly." "Like glass-blowing?" She was smirking on the inside. I liked drawing and cartooning, but I went to college in order to get some kind of career and some kind of life. A degree in glassblowing didn't seem like something a motivated young man would want. Maybe his family was rich. I asked Carl what he did for a living... "I work at the same place as Lloyd, but I'm the manager. I gave college about a month before I moved on. I've done some modeling, a few movies." "Really? Like what? Have I seen you in something?" "Oh, forget it," Lloyd chimed in. "He won't give any details, which makes me think it was porn." Both Carl and Theresa gave me a quick look, curious as to what my reaction would be. "Hey...whatever pays the bills. Does anybody have a cigarette?" Nobody did. I really felt the urge for one. "I'll go buy some. Is there a machine here." Carl stood up. "Yeah. I'll show you where it is. I need one too." I followed his thin frame through the crowd. "Do you come here a lot, Carl?" "No. Almost never. Lloyd comes here all the time --looking for his soul mate." "There's no such thing. If there was, he wouldn't be here." Carl flashed me a bright smile full of perfect teeth. "He's just a kid...like you. But he's still Linus waiting for The Great Pumpkin." We found the cigarette machine and I pumped in a few bills. I didn't have matches. Shit. "You don't have a light, do you?" "No. But they have matchbooks at the little bar near the door. C'mon." Once we got there, Carl reached into a mason jar and pulled out several of them. And found a pen. He lit the smokes for us as we settled down on the two empty stools left. "Let's do a shot before we go back...give your fag hag a chance to learn all she can about Lloyd." I watched his prominent adam's apple move up and down his throat as he puffed away. "So...seriously....did you do porno movies?" He didn't even blink. "Yeah. They were trashy and from a small studio never's ever heard of. It was in San Diego. I was okay-looking and have a big dick -- and did everything." "You're still very good-looking, Carl. Why did you stop?" "I caught AIDS. Most dudes in porn have it, but I never once tried to hide it. I mean, why lie?" Dear God. Part of me wanted to think I didn't hear him correctly over the loud music. But, no. "Does Lloyd know?" "Probably he's guessed. Nobody in my family or at the restaurant knows. I don't lie if someone asks, but I also don't tell many people. Just certain cool guys...like you." "I'm so not cool, Carl. I never dress like this normally. But thanks." "We should probably get back to the table or they'll think we were doing something. Here..." He handed me two matchbooks and the pen. "What do I need these for now?" "Write your phone number on the inside and give it to Lloyd. He'll ask for it later anyway. On the other one write your number and your email ... for me." I followed his instructions and gave him his while I put the one for Lloyd in my front pocket. "I guess we should go, Carl." We got back to the table and saw the suspicious faces of Theresa and Lloyd. Curiosity mixed with a bit of anger. Luckily, Carl made it all better. "We had to look forever to find matches. What did we miss?" Theresa relaxed and announced she was going to become a dyke. "Men don't want me, but I've gotten a few glances from lesbians. Sex is sex, right?" "Yeah...and that's really all there is." She leaned over to Lloyd. "He doesn't mean that...he's trying to convince himself that love isn't possible." "I hope it is," Lloyd said, looking right into my eyes. His knee touched mine while Carl's hand was on my other knee. I thought my head would explode. Theresa stood up and asked Carl to dance with her so Lloyd and I could be alone for a little while. They left and there I was with this adorable guy who believed in love. He smiled at me. "Do you work on weekends?" "Yeah. Carl goes in before they open, but I don't have yo be there until 11 AM. What do you do?" "Advertising and printing. That's how I know Theresa." "Oh yeah...she already told me that. I'm pretty buzzed right now. I don't think she likes me too much." "She's just sexually-frustrated -- like the rest of the world." "She for sure doesn't like Carl...told me that almost right away." "Why?" "Don't know. He can be damn unlikable at times. She sure adores you, though." I wondered what her thoughts about both of these guys were. I handed him the matchbook with my number right then because I knew I'd forget about it otherwise. He beamed. "Here they come. Be sure to call me sometime, Lloyd." Theresa was sweaty while Carl looked powder-dry. "Okay. I think I've burned off enough calories to justify a trip to White Castle on the way home." So I guess the evening was coming to a close. I was getting sleepy anyway. "Have a cigarette now, Matt. You can't smoke in my car." I took out one from the pack and gave one to Carl. He lit mine first and stared right into my eyes as he did it. I stared back. Aware that I was too obviously attracted to him, I turned around and gave Lloyd a wink. He smiled. "Both my mom and dad smoke, but I never have. It looks like fun -- wish I could join you." He was so sweet. Carl's hand was on my thigh, under the table. I could be sly too...I put my hand on his as Lloyd and Theresa sat there, oblivious. "We need to go too. Carl has to wake up early and I've had too much alcohol." He hadn't. really. "Theresa and I will meet you two out front in a minute so you two can say 'good bye'." Carl drilled his dark eyes into mine. I'd watch any crappy porn movie with him in it. We had a shared secret of desire, and that was better than any feelings of love. Lloyd was cute, but he didn't have his roommate's magnetism. We stood right outside the entrance and it felt painfully awkward. He was a good guy...I could see us going to dinner or to see a movie or a walk in the park. That, of course, would probably end up being a waste of time before the year was over. I wish he wasn't so shy because I am too. If he would just be a little more aggressive. "It was so nice to meet you, Matt. Did I say that already?" Did he? I don't remember because I'd been so into Carl the whole night. I suck as a person. "It was great meeting you too, Lloyd." We kissed for about three seconds. It didn't do much for me, didn't make my heart beat faster or anything. "Call me sometime." "Oh. I will. I'll call you tomorrow. Do you have plans for the weekend?" "No. Wanna come here again?" "Not at all. Let's just chill out at my place. Carl will be out all evening. I'll cook dinner and we can watch a movie." 'Sounds good," I said just as Theresa and Carl came through the door. She looked eager to leave. Carl nodded and said good bye. There was nothing hidden in his gesture. Theresa and I walked through the parking lot. "Well, I guess tonight was a big success for you, Matt. Two guys have their eye on you." "Lloyd does, maybe. We might get together tomorrow. He even wants to cook for me." She sighed. "He is very date-able. I can totally picture the two of you together, but..." "But what?" "I got to spend time alone with each of them. That Carl guy is trouble and there's just something unwholesome about him. Lloyd is cute and polite, but kind of a dud. He's mostly boring." "Yeah. He'd make a good husband for somebody. I just didn't feel anything for him except a little affection." We got inside her car and sat for a minute. "I did, however, find Carl very intriguing." "I was afraid of that...and I think Lloyd did too when you both left us for so long. And I can see why you'd be drawn to him. He's got that bad boy, Damien thing going on. Did you do anything with him?" "No! We looked around for matches and...talked a little." "Did he give you any coke? I'm sorry, but I got a drug vibe from him. I'm no baptist or anything...I just don't want you falling for this guy." "I already told you that I'm never going to 'fall' for anybody. The last time I thought I was in love, I got hurt." We got to my apartment building. "Hurt! Pffttt. Let's compare a list of hurts sometime. You're talking to someone who was called "Bratty Fatty" all through grade school...and even worse things after that." I shut up because I knew there were degrees of pain that everyone has gone through at some point in their lives. We barely said our good nights and she left. I wasn't really drunk, but I couldn't wait to crawl in bed. I slept later than I usually do on Saturday mornings. This was the time of week when I got cleaning and shopping done, but all I wanted to do now was drink coffee and think. I got dressed and had no sooner put my shoes on when the phone rang. It was only 10 AM. "Hello?" "Matt? Hi! It's Lloyd. I didn't wake you did I?" "Uh...no. Hi. What's up?" "Not much...I'm just getting ready for work. I'm off at 5, though. Short day. Want to come over tonight?" "Sure. Want to bring anything." "Nope. I got everything here. Except cigarettes...bring some if you want to smoke." He gave me the address and I wrote it down. I went to check my computer. I'd given Carl my email address, and secretly hoped he had sent me something. Anything. He had...early, early this morning. Hello Matthew Kenneth Harkner: hee hee. I did an internet search for you and didn't find anything scandalous. Shame. But I saw your company profile and almost didn't recognize you...you looked so all-American and innocent. Just kidding. I don't mind that at all. Just makes you more fun to corrupt. Lloyd talked endlessly about you and your big date tonight. Have fun. He's a good kid, but I wish you had met me first. I think you and I excite each other more. I think you think it too. I'm sending you some jpegs of me from my studio days as well as some that are more recent. Enjoy and reply after you've seen everything. I opened the file eagerly. pic #1: just a portrait shot with the name 'Houston Briggs" superimposed over his shoulders. It was copyrighted 'Raw Nerves, Inc.' pic #2: a full nude body shot of him sporting a giant boner (I'd guess it was over nine inches long) pic #3: a video still of some anonymous mouth wide open with Houston pissing in it pic #4: another video still of him fucking some blonde guy from behind pic #5: a close-up of his soft uncut dick with a visible '+' tattoo just above the trace of pubes pic #6: a shot of his hard dick with watery cum running down the shaft Damn! I had the urgent need to look at them all over again...and again. I needed to have a cigarette in the worst way. I went to the kitchen window and smoked while I thought of all the things I wanted to say in my reply. My heart was beating fast from the coffee and the nicotine and the lust. I wanted to jerk off right away. It didn't take long to come. I wouldn't remember until much later that this was the only time I'd ever masturbated in the kitchen. OK. I had to send a response and I was much calmer now. Thanks, man! You are incredibly hot! Do you have any tapes of your movies? I'd love to watch every single one. From beginning to end. Yes, I think there is something between us, but I'm an honorable man, and Lloyd and I have plans tonight as you know. It would hurt his feelings if I said "I'm into your roommate. Bye." I'd never do that. Visit my dreams sometime. Matt I needed to call Theresa. We'd left on bad terms last night. I sometimes got too involved with my little life, that I sometimes didn't pay attention to my words. Of course she had known about pain. It takes a special kind of bad luck to be a chubby kid and grow up on a hog farm. I didn't ever see her as fat because I adored her so much, but I bet it was hard for her to navigate romance. "Hello?" "Hi, Hon. Can I buy you some lunch?" "Sure. I got up early this morning to go join a gym, but I never made it out the front door. I don't own anything to wear to one of those places." "We'll go shopping after we eat. 'The Krab Kitchen'?" "Fancy! You must feel really guilty. I shouldn't have gotten mad last night and snapped at you. Pick me up around noon." So we ate and killed a few hours at the mall with no talk of love or hidden hurts or men. It was a nice afternoon, but I was sorry when it ended because that meant I had to fill the remaining time before my date with Lloyd. I wish I was excited, walking on clouds. But I was so very earthbound. Carl wouldn't be there. I'd be barely able to breathe if I was scheduled to meet up with or even just see him. He hadn't emailed me back. Damn. I took a shower and groomed. I didn't fuss much with what to wear. I just put on what I'd wear if a relative came to visit. It was past 5 now and he was probably showering and primping too. I had almost two hours to kill so I just sat on the floor and played Nintendo. New video games had gotten way too complicated for me and so I played old stuff like "Tetris" pr "Super Mario Brothers". I'd bought a smallish bottle of rum while out with Theresa. Time for a sip or two. I left the house a bit before 7. The place wasn't that far. I almost wish it was fifty miles or more away. I didn't want to be so near all this mess. It was a small house with a tidy lawn and some ornamental trees. OK. Let's get this over with. At least I'd remembered to bring cigarettes. Lloyd met me on the front porch with a wide smile. "You are right on time! Dinner is still cooking. Want some wine?" I tried my best to look happy and relaxed. "Yeah. Sure. Whatever you're making smells really good." He brought me a glass of wine and an ashtray.Thank God. I needed a smoke in the worst way. The wine was pretty tasty. I sat on the sofa and took in the decor. It had to be all Lloyd's taste because it was basic and grandma-ish. If Carl had lived here alone, the walls would be red or black and there'd be weird shit on the walls. If I was really into this guy, I would have waited to smoke -- possibly all night. As it was, though.... "Did you have any trouble finding the house?" "Not at all. Where's Carl tonight?" "Working. He won't be home until way late. What did you think of him?" Oh, man. I had to choose my words carefully. He refilled my glass because I'd been sipping too rapidly. "He was nice. My friend Theresa didn't like him much." "But you did, right? You thought he was hot?" Oh God. "Well...he's attractive. So are you." "Relax, Matt. This happens every time he and I go out together. Every guy I meet and talk to ends up lusting after Carl. It's the pheromones he gives off or something. I should just go by myself from now on, but we've been friends since we were kids." "I came over tonight to see YOU, Lloyd. I thought we hit it off last night and I wanted to see you again." The oven dinged. "The lasagna is done. I have to let it sit for a few minutes now. Want some more wine? What kind of movies do you like?" He got up and walked to the kitchen where I couldn't see him, but we could still hear each other. "I like horror movies mostly." "Oh. Not me. I just can't handle scary stuff." This would never work. "I don't even own a single horror movie. Look over at the shelf next to the TV and see if there's something there you'd like to see." He messed around in the kitchen as I looked through his collection. He seemed to have almost everything Tom Cruise had ever been in. I wasn't a fan of that midget. I settled on 'Mommie Dearest' because, even though it was bad, it was a lot of fun to watch. Lloyd brought out plates of steaming hot lasagna and some bread sticks and set it on the coffee table in front of us. He went back to get silverware, napkins and more wine. "Oh, good choice! We love that movie." "You know...I've never seen an actual movie Joan Crawford was in. I keep meaning to," "I have. She's epic." The food was good, but I was still a little full from all the snow crab legs I had for lunch. I ate enough to be polite, but finally had to stop. "It was so good, but I guess I ate too much at lunch. I'm full." "No worries. I'll send some home with you to eat tomorrow. Carl doesn't eat much either, which is why he's so skinny." At least I still had room for more wine. "Want some help cleaning up?" "No. I'll just throw everything in the dishwasher and deal with it later." After he left the couch, I lit up a cigarette. I'd seen this movie too many times. We were at the part where Chrsitina Crawford wouldn't eat the rare steak she was served. "What the HELL??," Lloyd said loudly. "Carl just came home. He wasn't supposed to come back until after midnight...at the earliest. Fuck!" I was excited and scared. I would see the living person behind the porn pics I'd just looked at this morning. And then there he was, grimacing and limping. "Hi. Matt. Sorry to interrupt your evening. I'll just go straight to my bedroom and close the door." Lloyd looked very pissed-off. "What happened? I thought you worked until closing." "Brenda spilled some grease in the kitchen and I slipped in it. I might have broken my ankle." My little brother had broken his ankle as a kid when he fell out of our tree house. They had to do surgery even. "Lloyd and I will take you to the E.R." "Hell NO. I'm not spending Saturday night in a waiting room with a bunch of dying people. I'll see how it is in the morning. Enjoy your evening, fellows." "No. Sit down and take your shoe off." "Oh God no!," Lloyd said with a laugh,"nobody wants to smell or see those hobo feet." "Shut up, bitch. He's trying to help." He looked down at me as I knelt on the floor in front of him. He put one foot up on the ottoman and asked me to unlace his dress shoes for him. I carefully removed his left shoe and sock. There wasn't a bad smell at all, but his foot was big, sort of ugly and his nails probably should have trimmed a few weeks ago, but his ankle looked normal and not all injured. No swelling or bruising that I could see. "It doesn't see broken, Carl. Can you move it sideways of up and down?" "No. I don't want to try because it'll hurt too much." I touched parts of the ankle and asked if he felt pain. "I think you might just have a sprain...or a tiny fracture at worst." The room got quiet. "Well, thanks, Dr. Matt." I felt stupid just being on the floor so I got up and went back to where I was sitting. Lloyd refilled our glasses and asked Carl if he wanted some. "Just bring me the bottle. I've got another bottle down in the crisper drawer." The energy in the room felt weird, but we all sipped and watched the end of the movie. Then it get even more strange and quiet. Carl looked over at Lloyd. "He has a good heart. I think Matt's too nice a guy for us." Us? "I told you. He thinks you're hot, though." It felt like there was a secret that I wasn't being let in on. "Yeah...but I am not feeling good about this now. Tell him." "Matt?" "What's going on?" I felt my face get hot with embarrassment. I was somehow feeling like a fool. "We lied to you about some things...and left out information. Carl and I have been a couple for several years -- and we're both HIV+. But we're into lots of kinky stuff and love to play with strangers. Since I'm more approachable than he is and he's more attractive, I find young guys to bring home for him...and me. The clueless ones are the easiest." No way was this really happening to me. "So I looked like an idiot to you?" I was angry and scared at the same time. 'I'm a fool, now??!" "Not at all, Matt. A little naive, maybe, but you're definitely not a fool. If we thought that about you, Carl would still have a broken ankle and I'd be trying to get you in my bed...and then you'd sneak into his room." "I can't believe this shit! You two ought to be in prison!" "Probably," said Carl. "But I saw how caring you were now and how concerned. Nobody has ever been that way with me....not even that jack-off sitting next to you." Lloyd was in crisis mode. "We can all be friends and just party for a while. Or you can go home and we'll never bug you again." "I'm a little too buzzed to drive." I was taking stock of the situation. What was I going to do next? I'd let them guess and be in the dark for a minute. "You can crash on the couch. It's a great sleeping couch...and we won't come near you. We both work early tomorrow anyway. I had the power now. I could take over the narrative at this point. I hated admitting to myself that I was wildly turned on, but wanted to hide it a little longer. "Put another movie in and let's finish the wine." I lit up a cigarette and let them wonder what I was planning. I guess the fact that I didn't leave in a huff was already pretty telling. Lloyd shrugged and started scouting for something to watch. "Carl? Do you have any horror movies in your bedroom? Matt likes those." Carl scooted away and returned a few minutes later with a tape. "I found something he might like more," he said with a grin. Of course it was one of his old porn videos. "Wow, he's really pushing his luck," I thought. "Oh Lord, Carl. Not that one. It's so cheap-looking and plus the sound sucks. Get the one where you're the limo driver." "No. This is the important one. Remember?" "Oh yeah. I forgot." The opening music was a terrible electronic version of every porn theme you've ever heard. At the time, though, I'd never seen a gay porn video until right at that moment. I tried so desperately to keep cool, but waves of embarrassment washed over me. It was called something really lame like 'Firm On the Farm'. And there was Houston Briggs (Carl) wearing a cowboy hat and jeans with no shirt. He was carrying a bale of hay and he was supposed to look sweaty, but it was obviously body oil of some sort. Younger Carl was bulkier and more tan than the current version. As much as I tried to seem casual, I'm sure my eyes were open very wide. So in comes another actor who I guess was supposed to be the boss farmer. "Lex Colton. He looks so butch in this, but he was a major queen." I looked over at at Carl who had taken his other shoe and sock off and untucked his shirt. "Not a nice guy either. He would have made a great top, but he always refused. Bottoms make more money than tops." I would have guessed it to be the other way around. There was dialog, but you couldn't really make out what they were saying because the audio was so crappy. And then Houston was naked and stroking his huge boner. Lex sucked it and seemed to really enjoy it. It was sloppy in a hot sort of way. At the end of the scene, the boss got huge wads of cum sprayed on his face. Wow. "That's a fake shot. I really did cum on him, but it didn't 'read' on film. So they had him kneel there again while somebody off camera shot a squirt gun full of egg whites at his face. I wasn't even there that day." Carl made a few more comments about the scene, but I remember being profoundly disappointed that the huge blob of sperm wasn't real. Carl came over and sat on the other side of me and took control of the remote. "We need to fast-forward a little. All the dudes in it were so bad and most of them have probably O.D'd by now. OK. Watch this next scene carefully...it's one of the few times I ever bottomed. What can I say? -- rent was due." I paid careful attention. There had to be a reason he'd said it was 'important'. A really large darker-skinned man approached Houston outside of a barn. He was shirtless as well. "That's Aldo. He told me was Puerto Rican. We ended up dating a little after the movie was over." On screen,they traded blow jobs and then Aldo fucked him from behind. No condom, but lots of lubricant from somewhere. It was hot, but got monotonous after a few minutes. "This scene was short over the course of two hours because he kept losing his woody. But wait a few seconds. It was a close-up shot of Aldo's bare ass pumping vigorously into Houston. He was a vocal top and never stopped 'shit' and 'fuck'. "Right there! See how he pauses and squeezes his ass together? And then just keeps going? He'd already shot his load inside of me, but then a few minutes later, he claims he can't cum and is losing his boner. The director told him to take a break." Wow. I was having a hard time wrapping my brain around all of this. "Not many poz guys get the moment they were bugged on tape."

If you were paying attention to the news some ten years ago, you know the town and the school I went to. It was that school in the Northeast where 14 teen girls all got pregnant at around the first time. It was a huge story locally, but it got national attention when it was rumored that they'd all made a pact to get knocked-up over the Summer. There was outrage from all sides. It was never proven that there was an actual conspiracy among the girls, but most everybody in the country thought so. They needed to believe the worst. I was a senior that year and can tell you some things that weren't reported. None of these preggos were even remotely cute. They were all skanks. The girls were all kinda dumpy and not real bright. They smoked cigarettes between classes and had started partying in junior high. The pretty girls all hoarded their virtues as they eyed a fabulous future and a rich, handsome husband. I'm not making any of this up. I was at ground zero. I was kind of nobody back then. I was the assistant editor of our school newspaper. I still remember the morning when the superintendent gathered us in his office and said to try and print one word about this scandal. He was the verge of an ulcer as it was and didn't want us to be another problem. He and the principal were ducking CNN reporters every day. My calculus teacher said that there was a camera man on his front porch one night. Another girl talked to "60 Minutes" on camera and was suspended. It was chaos. My closest friend back then was the senior editor, and he was working himself up into a frenzy. I liked Robbie, nut he was an asshole. We shared a love of current events and writing. He had groomed himself to be the next Rush Limbaugh. I was extremely liberal and our debates were intense. At least we both agreed that birth control should be free and separation of church and state was important. We both smoked. When he wanted to sneak a cig, he'd just say "let's go sell ad space". That was our secret code. We'd get in his car, drive around and smoke before eating a bunch of breath mints before going back to class. He never had girlfriends -- mainly because he was obnoxious and pretty fat. He was okay with it because he was so dedicated to building his brand. I wandered if he suspected I was gay since I was a big advocate for homosexual rights. He was on the fence about my views. "Did you hear what that one sophomore said during our staff meeting? That girl with the glasses?" "Her name is Trisha. She is super smart." She really was...had even skipped a grade. "She's a communist, vegetarian bitch. She tried to ignite the whole 'freedom of speech' shit again. It's my job as editor to nip that in the bud. I don't need to piss off the bosses when I have a chance to go to West Point." Seriously? He would never pass the physical. "You gonna be the editor of West Point's newspaper?" He huffed. "There's not going to be any print news in a few years. It's all digital media now. I should have told that bitch to just get an anonymous blog if she wanted her freedom of press. I am so careful on the computer and you should be too...everybody is watching us." I only emailed my grandma and watched silly videos on youtube. I had plenty of opinions but no desire to shout them at strangers. How Robbie didn't -- I had no idea. I was one of the few people who even listened when he talked. "I think I might major in literature." I just wanted to get him pissed off. "Joseph!" (everybody called me Joey, but Robbie never did) "Do you want to end up as a teacher in a shit hole like this? Get an engineering degree. You're good at math." He pulled into the parking lot a van that said 'NBC' on the side. It was empty. The newest rumor was that it was one dude had impregnated all the girls. And also that he was black. And HIV+. Homeless. None of this was probably true. The females in my class were Facebook addicts. Three of them were suspended for discussing 'this issue'. The sperm-giver supposedly lived in the park near my house. I was interested now. The source of the story was practically in my backyard...maybe. Or not. "Hey, Robbie -- I think I'm gonna skip the afternoon and go home. Take notes in Civics for me." What was I thinking? The semester had only barely begun and the rest of my classes for the day were mostly easy. I needed to get away, needed to think. I saw many news vans on my street. The 'culprit in the park' story had apparently leaked already. I was curious to see if any famous reporters were wandering around the park. I'd barely gone through the entrance when some guy in a ABC windbreaker came up to me. "Hi. I'm Phil Bridgeman from 'Good Morning America'. Are you a student at G.H.S.?" I didn't recognize him. "Yeah, but I can't make any comments." "I can make you an 'anonymous source'. Please???" "Well...maybe. Don't describe me in any way. I will be filling out college applications in a few months and don't want to piss off the administration here." "Can I record our conversation? I'm a terrible note-taker. It's just for me and not meant for air." I agreed, but never told him my name -- lust in case. "So I guess you're here because of the latest rumor." "Yeah. Let's go sit over here and talk." We settled at a picnic table and he brought out his little pocket tape recorder. It looked very Wal-Mart and not professional at all. He was maybe in this mid 30's and not bad looking...maybe Italian. He had that Fonzie nose and a bit of facial stubble. "You're not on camera ever?" "No. Not yet. I hope I am sometime quick before I lose more hair." "Oh. Isn't that William guy bald?" I watched Good Morning America when there wasn't school. "Yeah, but he's got a 'morning personality'. I don't look like a guy people want to see first thing in the morning. Anyway...what's it like being in your school right now?" "It's a distraction, but people are getting tired of it." "Do you know any of the pregnant girls personally?" "I know them as classmates, but not as friends." "Oh. That's too bad -- we're all trying to figure out why they would do this." "I've been wondering that too. My buddy thinks it's because they all want little dolls to play with, but I'm not so sure. There has to be more to it...don't you think?" "Conservative media thinks it's because they don't have fathers at home and because liberal schools are teaching sex ed." "Ugh. Sounds like my dad. He blames MTV as well." "Do they teach sex ed at G.H.S.?" "No. There's health class and biology, but nothing specifically about sex. Most everybody lost their virginity by freshman year anyway." "Have you?" "I'm not telling you anything personal, Todd." "Sorry. I am always full of questions....occupational hazard." He switched off his recorder and put it in his pocket. "It's okay. I guess I'm not going to be much help." "No. I think this whole 'blame game' angle is the one I'll go with." "I think it's ignorance too....an unawareness of consequences. I'm starting to think it's a rebellion issue as well. We're all trying to prove how mature we are. I only started smoking because I knew my parents would not approve. I spent a lot of years trying to spite them. Maybe if I had the anatomy, I'd have gotten knocked up too." I felt I could speak freer now that it wasn't on tape. Todd looked at me for a long moment. "That's good. You're onto something." "But there's the erotic element too. They want a fuck that actually counts for something...fulfills a fantasy. It's what they think 'love' is." "Wow. You're a good analyst. The girls are submitting to a dick full of dna that will turn them into someone else." "Exactly. It's hot if you think about it." He looked at me, puzzled. "Uh...yeah. We're all just mammals with a need to mate. Is that what you mean?" "Yeah. I don't think that's a groundbreaking story, though. I think you guys are wasting your time here." "But there's an angle somewhere. What about the homeless black guy who was the breeder?" "I doubt it. I've lived here my whole life and never saw a homeless person." "Let alone a black person. This area is solid white. Would you ever go out with a minority?" "I don't know. Probably. This off the record: I've never even gone out with a girl." "A guy?" "No! Why did you even ask that?!" "Sorry. I have an instinct for things. It's not offensive...I'm gay." He waited until I'd absorbed that piece of information. "My lover is black and travels with me sometimes. He's too afraid to leave the hotel because there's a racist vibe here -- no offense." "You're right. He's right. We're not as bad as Boston, but it's not easy for anyone different around here." "Oh look -- there's that guy from 'A Current Affair'. Total jerk." I lit up a cigarette. "Your school day is almost over. I should go to the parking lot and try to get some more quotes." "Go stake out the area behind the industrial arts building...that's where the stoners gather. They'll have an opinion and don't care about getting suspended." "That's a great tip! Look -- I don't know how many more days I'll be here, but let me give you my room number. I want to talk again." Yes. OK. "Um...Todd...This is off the record, but I'm gay too." "I kinda knew that. Any dude going to that school full of sluts and has never been laid? I won't say a word." He wrote down his room's phone number and bummed a smoke. We walked out and went separate ways. I felt weird. I'd never 'come out' to anyone before, but I just confessed it all to a national reporter. I was probably insane. I went to my room and listened to a CD by some woman named 'Katy Perry'. Robbie was in love with her and had magazine photos of her taped up in his locker. He practically demanded that I buy this music. I ended up really liking it. It's hard to believe that was a decade ago. Dad came home and was in a terrible mood. "I'm going to buy a gun, I swear. This town has gone bonkers. That Geraldo Rivera guy just wandered into the firm today and started asking questions. Smug bastard...he's older than he looks on TV too." Mom brought him a drink and retreated back to the kitchen. My dad had a bad temper and none of us wanted to witness the fury. "What the hell is going on at that school of yours? Ed told me they're going to start giving out birth control to anybody that asks...with no parental consent." "I didn't hear that. There's a lot of false information right now. We're all just waiting for it to blow over." "Good goddamn luck. Be sure to thank your hero Clinton for this. Those little whores are going to be sucking at the taxpayer's teat for years." I'd once made the mistake of telling I was a Democrat and he was beside himself. I probably took five years off of his life that day. "I'll bet nobody is learning anything at that school right now." "It's just a distraction, but I just took a test in Physics and got an A." Lie. I actually got a C+, but wanted him to calm down a little. White lies are exactly that. They benefit all involved. "Well, good. I hope you get into M.I.T. and invent a ray gun that sterilizes kids by just aiming it at their crotches. Bring one to me." He was in rare form tonight. Still mad, but also exhausted. "To hell with it...tell your mother I'm not hungry and need to sleep." He loosened his tie and went upstairs. The energy in the room changed dramatically. Mom stepped back into the room. Our moods always brightened when he retreated to somewhere private to be alone with a bottle and his paperback thrillers. "I'll make BLTs for us. Want to come keep me company?" "Sure." "Your father is leaving town tomorrow and will gone for three days. I can make that spicy fried chicken we had on your birthday. Or we can go out to eat. We can go to the mall or a movie. Let's have a fun day. Just us. You will be leaving for college before we know it." "Sounds great. Can we do it tomorrow?" "Tomorrow's a Friday -- you have school." "Can you excuse me from classes...just this once?" I knew she would. My attendance had never been a problem. Ever. "OK. I'll tell them you're running a fever. Just fake it good enough at breakfast so that your father doesn't get mad. After he's gone, we don't have to worry until next week." She seemed to be happy to conspire with me. "Is this all because of the scandal?" "Yeah. It's a pain in the butt just listening to all the whispering. We can't even report it in the paper. Robbie wants me to draw an editorial cartoon that hints at it but is too subtle to get us in trouble. Tall order." "The things you kids have to deal with these days..." "It'll pass. Mom, were you happy when you got pregnant?" She paused while slicing a tomato. "Yes! Oh my, yes! I was a little scared too. We were both thrilled, and your dad was overjoyed when we found it I was carrying a boy." "Was it..." I couldn't ask my own mother she agreed with any of the theories Todd and I had pondered in the park. "I mean... WHY did it make you happy?" "I wanted to be a mother. We tried to have you for almost a year. I wanted a Spring birth, but embryo Joseph had his own schedule." I let the subject drop. We ate and talked about pleasant, mundane things. As I helped her clean up, she mentioned how tired she was. "Why don't you go to bed early?" "Oh I will...in the guest room. I don't want to deal with him until morning." She fried her hands and we left the kitchen. "Don't forget to act sick in the morning." "OK. Good night." It was only a little after 8 PM and I was all alone in the large house. It's funny how life-changing moments can start so small and so quiet. I wanted to call Todd and talk to him, hear his voice. I had no idea why...or did I? I waited until after 9:30 to sneak back downstairs and use the living room phone. I had a cell phone, but didn't want the number to appear on the bill my parents paid. Family Plan. "Hello?" "Todd?" "Yeah. Is this my anonymous source?" "Yep. Did I wake you?" "What? No. We just got back from dinner and were going to hit the bar for awhile. Want to join us?" "Yeah. I have to sneak out. You're at The Crescent?" "Uh huh. Room 301. See you in a few." Oh shit. Did I just set something in motion I'd regret? Probably. Too late now. I changed clothes and combed my hair. Aftershave? No. Not now. Not tonight. I wore a M.I.I. sweatshirt so I wouldn't need a jacket. I went quietly out the front door and had a smoke on the porch. My car was at the curb and it looked so innocent, with no idea where I was going. The Crescent was a nice place and there were so many news vans in the parking lot. The scandal had been good for our local economy. I think I saw a few famous reporters in the lobby, but they had all started looking the same lately. TV people all share a quality I couldn't identify. His room was right outside the elevator. I knocked and a well-built black man answered the door. "Are you Deep Throat?" "Uh..." "Just kidding. Come on in. Todd's getting all fixed up, and I can see why. You made an impression on him." He had a friendly smile. There was a fat gold ring in his right ear. This guy probably worked out constantly. "Hi. I'm...I'm Joe." "Yeah. I'll just call you Deep Throat. Help yourself to the mini-bar and I'll go check on Todd." I opened the fridge and picked out a tiny bottle of vodka. It probably cost nine bucks, but ABC was picking up the tab. Serves 'em right for ever airing "Full House". I could hear their voices from behind the bathroom door. I had a really good sense of hearing that might be genetic because everybody in our house kept the volume down on the TV, and radio. I seldom listened to anything with headphones because I was afraid to miss things happening around me. I heard snippets of conversation from the two men. They both had deep voices that were purposely trying to mute a little. The vodka was gone and I grabbed another. I figured ABC had to pay for "Family Matters" as well. Then they both entered the room. Here he is, Jim...looking all pretty for you!" Jim? It was probably good he didn't remember my real name. Todd looked different than he did in the park, younger. I stood up and said "hi". We didn't shake hands. "I guess you finished your homework already. Glad you could come over." Sit and we'll have a drink and talk. This is my lover, Jack. He's rude." "Hi again Todd. He wasn't rude at all." "You see? I told you I was nice to the little guy." I finished the second tiny bottle of vodka. It burned a little...I could see why people mixed it with juice and stuff." "Well, have another snoot and we'll go down to the bar. There's a bartender there that Jack is in love with." It was nice to see a couple kid with each other. My parents were always very cordial with one another...they were constantly trying to avoid confrontation and debate. Todd fetched me the last of the vodka. I thanked him and tried to make some meaningful eye contact. I maybe could have if I knew how to do such things. Jack on I sat in chairs while Todd sat on the edge of the bed and considered the laces on his boots. Jack seemed very interested in me. "You're 18, right? We could get in trouble for giving you liquor. I am so done with police. So done with judges and jail and shit." "I turned 18 three weeks ago. And I don't have school tomorrow...you news people have shut us down." "Jack's a chef...not a leech like me. But I bet you don't mind a three day weekend. I've got more of the story to share with you. Your tip about talking to that stoner crowd paid off big...I even got a quote from one of the fathers." "Cool. Happy to help. Was it that guy with the neck tattoo?" "I'll fill you in on everything later. It's time to move downstairs." He and Jack fussed with each other about who had a key card for the door. I wanted a cigarette. The bar was sparsely populated at that moment. Todd mentioned that the story had peaked already and about a third of the reporters had left. Finally. I was in a good mood despite the urgent need for nicotine. Jack made us sit in the area where he could scan the bar for an appearance by his crush. A chubby waitress with a Baltimore accent took our drink orders and didn't even ask for my I.D. Todd looked like a million dollars and I was suddenly feeling like a 13 yr. old girl. He'd be one of the teachers all the female students would flirt with. Jack wasn't so bad to look at either, but I didn't completely trust him. "You switched to beer, Deep Throat?" "Yeah. Why do you call me that?" "Wishful thinking on his part." Todd was giving him a displeased look. "Nah, man. It's from Watergate. You probably don't know about all that." I sort of did, but just the basics. "He's smart...top of the class.One of the pot heads told me might be valedictorian." "Doubt it. My friend Robbie is probably going to beat me out. What else did those tell you?" "So much. I'm gonna get a promotion after this. Go get us some shots, Jack. Maybe your bartender will be there." Jack got up and left. I lit a cigarette even though I wasn't entirely sure we were in the smoking section. "Spill it, Todd. I want to know what you found out." He helped himself to a cig from my pack. "What do you want to know, Joey? I described you and they all knew your name. I won't use it. One of the future dads is Ronnie and he told me that he and one of the pregnant ladies was who he dated off and on. One of his quotes was 'she can't hit me up for child support because I don't got nothing.' He said he liked a warm place to put his cock in." "Yeah. I remember him. I tutored him in basic algebra, but I might as well have tried to teach a squirrel to speak French." "They also told me you interviewed them about drug abuse last year." "Yep, but I was cool about it. My angle was that it wasn't really an 'abuse'. Some kids drink early in life and some prefer pot. It was just a vice, a coping mechanism for people dealing with high school hell." "That's good. You're like me...searching for an approach that's not obvious. But I haven't told you the really big news. Are you ready? There actually IS a a homeless guy in the park, and he really has fucked some of the girls. He's not black, though. Just a dark Mexican guy. AND he has AIDS! Can you believe that?!" "Wow." "Does AIDS scare you?" "Maybe. I don't think about it much." "Jack and I are both HIV+. We both agreed to wait until one of us started showing symptoms before going on meds. What are you thinking?" "Uh...I don't know. Why did you tell me all that?" "I thought I'd tell you everything in case we all had some fun tonight. Interested?" Yes. "Sure. Where's Jack with our shots?" Just I finished asking that question, a new waitress came up with a tray of shot classes and a fresh beer. "Your negro buddy sent this over. He's a talker, that one." I had no idea what the shots were. I just downed one and let the fire spread over me. It had taken me a while, but I was finally a rebellious teen. I thought of my dad in some different city, knowing nothing. "Here..have mine too. I want to write tonight. I have an exclusive interview with Miguel -- the homeless sperm donor." "Where are you meeting him?" "Here. I got him a room on the third floor. My video guy is on his way....might even join us tonight. He's gay too, but I don't know if he's poz or not." The story was turning inside out now. Mom was sleeping right now and Dad was probably drinking...with no clue what I was in the middle of. Jack finally returned to our table. "He's not working tonight, I guess. His name is Lloyd and engaged to get married. Idiot. It's still pretty early...why aren't we rowdy yet?" "God, you're such a frat boy. I was just telling him about my successful day." "Let's celebrate! We agreed to show you a good time tonight...NYC style." "I'm pretty buzzed, man.' "Buzzed isn't going to cut it, Deep Throat." Todd's cell rang. "It's the network. Hold on." He walked a few feet away and answered the call. I sat there with Jack. "You ever been fucked by a man?" "What? No! Never!" "Then how do you know you're gay? Gay guys fuck." He was definitely an asshole. "I just turned 18, okay. It's not like this place is full of gay bars and bath houses." "Yeah yeah. I lost my cherry when I was fifteen and I wasn't nearly as cute as you." "Did it hurt?" "Definitely. I almost destroyed the first ass I plowed...and I'm not all that endowed. Not like Todd. Dude's got a giant cock. The camera guy, Nate, is new to me. He might be hung for all I know." Todd finally returned. "They are so psyched that I have the homeless guy for an exclusive. They are going to love me. Oh look! There's Nate." He saw us and walked to the table. Tall and bearded with a lip piercing. Hot. I imagined each one of them naked. Reflex. "Damn, Todd. This is a nice hotel. You must be moving up. What's everybody drinking? I'll get a round." He didn't wait for an answer -- just headed for the bar. I wasn't so sure I could drink any more booze." I watched him walk. Nice butt. "The call was from Mr. Matthews. He wants me to get the culprit's face on camera. We might have to him stoned first." "How?" I'd never smoked weed in my life. I thought it would kill my drive. Robbie offered me some once, but I declined. "We didn't fly here. We drove. It's inside one of my bags. You can't be too careful in airports." Nate returned with four cocktails and passed them around. "Is this kid even old enough to be here?" "Yeah. He's legal, Nate. Sit down." Jack said something about wishing there was music playing. "We're not at a club, you big queen. Be cool." "Why? You two are gonna talk shop and just leave me and Deep Throat just sitting here. Not that I mind." "'Deep Throat'? Wow...I'm late to the party." "He's a student at Conception High School. He's been a big help. You know better than to listen to anything Jack says. I haven't see Miguel since he checked in. He's probably just happy to have a shower and a bed. Let's get there before 10:30. I'm gonna offer him a little smoke-able truth serum. See how that goes." Jack and I continued to drink as Todd studied his phone and Nate went back to his room to get the camera. They went off to a separate table to plan the shoot and conspire. As much as I liked him, this guy had a story to get and a career to boost. "I'm used to this. What do you of Nate? He's not a bad guy." "I like the beard." Bearded men are almost always attractive to me. There must have been a movie or TV show as a kid that planted that particular fetish in my brain. Way back when there was just a trace of testosterone seeping into my system. "Todd had a mustache when we first met. I can take facial hair or leave it. We bonded over weed and kink." "Kink?" You'll find out later. We got left on prom night. Are you pissed off?" No. Maybe a little. I don't know." "Let's leave them to their work shit. We can raid the mini-bar and watch HBO or something." I finished my drink and stood up. I maybe shouldn't have come here. I bumped my shoulder on the door frame on our way out. "Ow!" "Dang, boy...You a lightweight. Need help?" "No no. I'm fine. That was embarrassing, though." as the elevator went up, Jack touched by butt. We passed the third floor where the breaking story was going down. "I been wearing these clothes all day...mind if I change?" I shook my head as we entered the room. "The remote is on top of that desk. Find something smutty on cable." He went to the bathroom and closed the door. OK. I found an imported beer in the fridge and cracked it open. He was running the shower in there. Or maybe it was the sink. I found "American Gigolo" which I think I saw once. You can see Richard Gere's limp dick in this. HBO was showing something about a handicapped kid. Jack walked out of the bathroom, wearing just a white robe. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I needed to freshen up my stuff a little." "It's OK. There's not a plethora of smut on TV tonight." "Richard Gere. I saw him in person once...wearing a fur coat and looking like a wealthy queen. Doesn't do much for me." "I like this movie only because they play a Blondie Song. Good group." "I met Debby Harry at an AIDS charity thing. Bitch is in her late 50's now. But way cool. And short." New York must be a magical place. "I...I can try to find another movie." "Never mind. Go get me something from the mini-bar. You decide what." He had loosened his robe a little. I chose a little bottle of gin. He seemed like a guy who liked gin. "Good man. Drink your beer and let me ask you some stuff." I had a surprise boner that was testing the fly of my jeans. "This one's almost empty. I'll get another." I did and kicked off my shoes, and joined him on the bed. His dick was so close to being exposed. So close. "Settle back. What's going through your mind right now?" "Not much. What did you want to ask me?" "You a virgin, right? Todd assumed you were." Shit. I thought he'd start with questions about my hobbies or something. "Yes. I am. I probably will be for a few more years." "I doubt that. You ever think about black men...you ever been kissed by one? Think you'd like that?" "Well...I probably would like that, Jack. " I could have waited for him to make the move, but I just leaned over and put a big kiss on his fat, fleshy lips. It was electric for me. We stayed in a sloppy lip lock for over a minute. Our faces were covered with warm saliva. I almost had an orgasm right then. "OK then! Nice. Take your clothes off, baby." Let me look at you." I did just that as he slipped the robe off. I was down to my socks as I saw his healthy hard-on stick straight into the air. I took one last glug from the beer and jumped back in the bed next to him. His arms were huge and muscular. I kissed his biceps and shoulders. "You are beautiful, Jack." "I know. I work on this body so I can keep my Sugar Daddy. Todd's OK, but we are not meant to be. Want me to show you some things?" "YES!" "Good answer. Suck on this cock for a while." It was so perfect...I swear it could be in an art museum. I licked it up and down and tasted soap. The head was the color of a bruise and a tiny teardrop of clear fluid was leaking from the piss hole. I took the whole thing in my mouth and tried to move down the shaft. 'Try' being the key word. Turns out my gag reflex was untested and fighting my desires. "Slow down. I guess your throat ain't all that deep after all. Take your time." I felt so greedy. I wanted his fat, brown shaft to fill my throat. I needed air so I pulled away and gasped for oxygen. "I'm new at this. But thanks for letting me do that, Jack." "OK. My turn to do something for you. Lie back. I lied there completely naked as his dark, muscular body covered mine. It was like a hot, porn fever dream. He moved down and spread my legs. He was tonguing my ass while jacking my dick. Wow. I was excited, scared and lost in pleasure. I'd never felt anything like that...hadn't even imagined it. Was this really happening?? He used his strength to just flip me on my stomach. He continued rimming me until I thought I couldn't it any longer. "You like that, Jim?" "God yes! Can I do that to you too?" "Later. I got to fuck that little bubble butt now. Let's try it with no condom on at first. You agree to that?" Did I? Yes. "This is going to hurt, isn't it?" He didn't answer because he was too busy rooting through his duffel bag. Maybe he was going to put on a rubber after all. Nope. He was greasing his fat dick with some lube I never caught a glimpse of. He worked a few oily fingers into my hole. "You're tight as hell, but pretty relaxed from my tongue.This probably won't hurt too much. Just relax and be patient...it'll feel so good eventually. " He lowered his body down and prodded my ass with that cock of his. Exciting! I tried to open my whole body to the experience. He jabbed my hole and I thought I'd die. Damn! "Ow! No, Jack. Let's stop for a second." My forehead was covered with sweat. "Relax. Open up for me as best you can." He had no intention of pulling out, and kept moving in. And then SLAM! Jack was all the way inside me. His hairy pubes were soft on my butt cheeks. "Shh. You're about to feel really good." He was right. My body had recovered from the stab of pain...and gave over to the delights of being fucked. He went at even pace and his hot breath warmed the back of my neck. He was an expert at this...he knew all the buttons to push and all the switches to flip. I shuddered as if I was cold. I came all over the bed. His dick must have enjoyed my shuddering and clenching because he was moaning and pumping even faster. I understood why couples videotaped themselves having sex...I so badly wanted to see his super muscular butt bucking up and down on top of me. I had just come, but my dick was getting hard again. As my mind was traveling the stars above, he said "Shit! It's all yours now, baby." His seed was a part of my future. This was the feeling so many people craved -- a mixture of pleasure, surrender and the feeling that your life was different now. "Wow. You're amazing, Jack. I mean...wow." We each composed ourselves a little. "You OK? Need the bathroom?" "Maybe. Yeah. I'll be right back." I was fine, but I needed a little time alone to process everything. The soreness down there was bearable and also pleasant in a weird way. I guess it was good that it was done, and there's no way I could make a different choice. There was another white robe on a hook in the bathroom. I put it on. I needed a cigarette, but I'm pretty sure this was a non-smoking room. "Everything okay? I got you another beer." I put my clothes back on. "You leaving already? I feel so cheap!" He was chuckling at his own joke. "I just need a smoke. Be right back." The elevator stopped on the way down and Nate stepped in carrying an impressive video camera. "You're going home? It's not even 1 yet." "Nah. I need a cigarette." "Cool...can I join you?" We stepped outside the hotel and stood near a big standing ashtray filled with clean white sand. "How'd the interview go?" "Oh man! We got some great stuff. This guy finally decided that he didn't want his face shown, and I don't blame him. He'd be hunted down and killed. Dude is dumb as hell, but he at least knew that much. Hell...I better go edit all this stuff now. Be cool and drive safe." The word 'safe' seemed kind of ridiculous now. A few minutes later I went back through the lobby and ran into Todd. "Well..what have we got here?" He had a devilish smile. "Oh. I uh..." "I went back to the room and the whole place smelled like sex. It's okay. I'm not mad at either of you...just wish I would have been your first. How does it feel?" "Fine. Good, actually." "Let's go somewhere. I found a little secret place on my way to Miguel's room." The place he found was a small utility room on the third floor. "It's not exactly very clean or comfortable here, but there's a lock on the door." I knew where this was going. So be it. "Can you handle another dick in you so soon? This dick right here?" He'd fished his meat out through the zipper. It was bigger than Jack's, but not as pretty. It was so heavily-veined that it looked as if earthworms were climbing up from the base. "Yeah. It's an interesting dick you got there, Todd." "Why not get a closer look?" I was down on my knees so fast. I guess I could have played along and pretended to study it, but the time for coy games had long since passed. I started kissing and licking it. It didn't get any prettier as it became fully hard. "That's it. Yeah. Take that cock, kid." He grabbed the back of my head and humped my face. His technique wasn't as smooth as his lover's. I didn't mind. I'd already discovered the joys of submitting to a man's dick. Giving myself away.... He bent me over a large cardboard box full of something solid and heavy, and pulled down my pants. This was decidedly less sexy than being in a bed. He probed my ass with two fingers. "Damn. You're still lubed up. Jack's pretty good at that. Let me fuck his load deeper into you and add my own. Want that, Joey? Of course you do. Lower yourself down just a bit...like you're about to kneel down and pray. Stick your ass a little. Like that. Yeah." And then there was that familiar feeling of his cock head prodding my hole. There was nothing smooth or seductive about his approach to this. He just kept pushing and trying to get inside. It occurred to me that it was part of my punishment for not letting him fuck me first...or for having sex with his boyfriend. I just knew he was making me pay. Or maybe he thought it's what I wanted. I yelped once. He hit a spot up in me that Jack didn't or couldn't reach. Todd was crazy with angry lust and just kept thrusting like I was a blow-up doll or something. I wasn't really enjoying this physically. Mentally, however, it was exciting to imagine two different strains of HIV entering my bloodstream. It would go through my brain and heart and do its thing. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the bug, the sex bug. "Gonna come in you now!" He grabbed my shoulders and made one final thrust. "Oh FUCK!" It was over. He pulled out of me and zipped his fly. "Wow. I'll remember that forever, Todd." "You have no idea. Sorry I was a little impatient...I just wanted to breed you so bad. Let's decide now that Jack's cum wasn't enough to impregnate you, but my potent sperm hit the bull's eye. Keep thinking that. I will." "Yeah. I like that idea." "I think I've got another special surprise lined up for you. A gift. Stay here a minute and I'll be right back." He left and closed the door behind him. I pulled my pants up and tried to look normal. The room was weird and I looked around for something, anything to occupy myself with. An ice cold beer would have been nice. Maybe Todd wasn't coming back. "OK." He came back in to our secret room. "Think you can handle another load? Miguel wants a blow job, and neither Nate or I would do it. Ethics and all. But I just told him about you and he liked the idea...especially because you're young and don't have any facial hair. He's a little sleazy, but all cleaned up. You need to taste the same cum that knocked-up some of your schoolmates. You game?" "Why not? I'm a professional slut now." "Good. He's in room # 312 and the door is wedged open a little. Just go in there and say 'Hi'. He'll tell you what to do. I don't think he wants to fuck your ass, though. Seed is seed, ya know? Jack and I have a poz friend who claims he's only ever sucked dick in his life. Maybe bite your tongue or something. Oh wait. Never mind." He kissed me deeply, passionately. The he bit my lower lip and sucked on my tongue fiercely. It was so hot until he clamped his teeth down on the tip.YOW! I knew what he was doing. My mouth was prepped for yet another toxic load. "Thanks, man. I think I'm ready now." "Almost." He stuck two hairy fingers between my lips and drug his nails across my gums and the insides of my cheeks. "Now you're ready. Room 312...just go on in. He's expecting you. I'll be here a few more days. Call again. Here's my business card. Keep in touch, please." I nodded and left. The hallway was silent. I made a mental note of the pattern on the carpet and the way the sconces made little pools of amber light. If only the room was further away. It was right there...a little sliver of TV light was creeping out of the crack in the door. OK. It was time. I knocked softly and went inside. "Miguel? Hi. I'm Jim." He was completely naked and lying on top of the bed. Flat on his back. You can't control the first thing people notice about you. I noticed what a sweet, delicate shade of pink the soles of his feet were. The rest of him was dark brown and hairy. His hair was longish and his beard was so thick and full. His eyes were dark, glistening. "Jim? OK. You like to suck the dick, yes? And you go to the school where some of my girls go?" "Yes. I've been wanting to meet you." "That's good. Get us some tequila from that ice box. TV is paying for it." I did what he requested. Never tasted tequila that I can remember. I handed him the little bottle and opened my own. It stung the little wounds Todd had made in my mouth. "So you live in the park?" "Not now. I'm living here as long as they let me. And then...and then I will go South. I got some cousins in Tupelo, Alabama. Shame to leave this place though, cuz there is so much willing pussy here. And I always need to fuck." He was stroking his nice slab of dark meat. "I'm sort of famous too. I should write a book, but my English is not so well." "I can help you. I'm a writer...or I want to be." "Good. Leave your phone and address with me. Can't use my real name." "Oh I know. I just want to be a part of your story and have you be a part of mine." "Yes. Good. Go bring us more booze. I don't care what." I brought back six or seven mini bottles and bravely lied down next to him. "You are very handsome. Your babies will be so cute. I know some of the mamas." " I always wanted a family...not this way, but there are not many ways for a guy like me. Especially now that there is a sickness in my balls." His dick was rock hard and sticking straight up. It was even darker than Jack's. Almost completely black. "You think this is handsome also?" He flashed a grin. I understood how so many girls had submitted to him and taken his seed. "Let's drink a little more and then you put your mouth there. We watched TV and glugged down the liquor. It was some MTV series with beautiful, young people staying at a beach house. It was practically porn, but everybody's clothes were on. Boring. I just looked at him jerking off that big cock. "What would you like to be in the book?" "Really? You really going to write it? Give me money when it sells?" "I promise. I'll give you half." "You are so good. I'm sorry but I won't fuck you in the culo . I don't never do that." "It's cool, Miguel. I'll do whatever you want. You set the limits." "Yes. You know what I won't do now...do some of your gay stuff. Want to lick my asshole?" "Yes. I do." "Just do what you want." I leaned over and kissed his hot, hard dick. He sighed loudly. I'd already sucked two dicks in the last three hours...I had a knack for it now. I knew my gag reflex had to be conquered. I amazed him (and myself) by taking the whole dick in my mouth. It was in my throat, hitting spots I didn't know about. If he shot his load now, it would fill my lungs. So be it. He was so verbal. "Fuck! I never want you to stop! Tomar mi semen! Swallow now! Mierda!!!" He let a long rope of cum shoot into my mouth. I made a point of swishing the fluid around over my gums. It was strong-tasting, salty and thick. No wonder he impregnated so many wombs. He lifted his softening cock out of my mouth and the last drops of hot semen soaked his pubes. It was completely white with tiny swimmers. Fertile man. He was sleepy, and I left. I thought about everything. My state of mind was of no importance. I had to go home and sneak back into my room. No time for regrets or sadness. Or anger. All those emotions were useless. I felt some blood in my underwear. I was leaking. Mom and I spent Friday together as my ass continued to drip. We'd see heavily-pregnant women walking around in the mall, and I knew something about them and also about me. We all got seeded because we caved in. We all shared a secret willingness to let a dick change our lives. (to be continued)

(Special thanks to Lynn who inspired this story. Love you, man.) 1993 Jeff. It's too common a name for someone that meant so much to me some twenty years ago. Someone who changed my world completely. I guess you could say my world needed changing back then. I was single and mostly okay with being alone, but the nights were lonely. My dating history was spotty at best...mostly just fucking around here and there. I'd often find myself spending my evenings exactly as I do now: Smoking a cigarette and staring at a computer screen for hours. AOL chat rooms were still a big thing back then, and horny people from all over the world had staked their claim to most of them. I hung out in one room called "GeorgiaMaleforMale". I was in a medium-sized town with no active gay community that I knew of. A few guys went to the park or to the rest area on the highway. I'd been there and done that. I guess my 20's had taught me that there are no boyfriends in those places...nobody to hold hands with or take to dinner. There was cock and cum and lust. Around that time, I stopped thinking love was a real concept. The French had invented it as a nice word for "attraction". The harsh truth had started showing on my face in wrinkles and a permanent frown. I started looking older than my actual age. Fuck it. Plain old lust was good enough for me now. I ended up chatting with a guy who lived about forty minutes from me. Jeff. There were no photos in those old AIM profiles...just descriptions of themselves and their desires. Jeff's wasn't really detailed, but his short distance from me was enough for me to go on. He and I were somewhat similar...he was a year older than me and a few inches taller, but none of those details seemed to matter to me right then. I secretly hoped he'd private me first, but that didn't happen. I took the plunge.... Hi, neighbor. Oh HI! I was about to private you, but I figured you were already chatting with somebody. Nope. How are you? Not bad. Are you new here? No, but I haven't been here much lately. It's the same jerks as always. They talk trash me in this place. Why? Reasons. My name is shit around here. I think it's because I come across like a snob when I type. I'm not, though. And also I'm poz. Damn. I was so sick of that disease...it had haunted my prime sexual years and it was just so brutal. Every time they discovered something new about the virus,it was more apparent that AIDS was almost impossible to cure. Oh. I'm sorry, man. How do you feel now? No symptoms...but I'm not going to lie about it to assholes online. Some of them probably have it to, but won't own up to it. Sucks. You are better than them. You okay with me being poz? Are you clean? Doesn't matter to me. A bisexual guy fucked me bare when I was in my teens...gave me butt warts. That's a beginner's bug. Herpes is pretty much the same. You like to be fucked, huh? I do! I haven't had sex in four years...it's not worth the heartbreak. 'Heartbreak'? I don't bother with romance any more. You like sucking dick? Absolutely. I'm good at it unless the guy is too big. Oh. Well...I'm kind of big. More wide than long. I just love being blown. Would you suck a poz dick? Why not? Would you let a poz guy fuck your ass? With no condom? I would. Are you a chaser? I mean, are you trying to get infected? Not so much...I just don't care. I focus on the experience and the man. I can give you an experience alright. Do you have a digital photo? No. Sorry. Do you? Yeah. I'll send it to you. You can make an online photo at Kinko's. Just take a regular picture there and they'll convert it. It's cheap. Will do. I don't have any nude pics though. Ha! I don't either. Can't imagine giving a nude photo to some random Kinko's employee. We'll see each other nude soon enough. Check your email tomorrow morning. Gonna crash now. I'm I'm Jeff, by the way. I'm Lyle. Sleep well, Jeff. It was almost 2 AM on a Friday night/Saturday morning. I didn't turn on the radio because I couldn't handle hearing "I Will Always Love You" one more time. That fucking song, I swear. I'd read and go to sleep. My brain was full of thoughts, ideas and questions. I'd ask the kid at Kinko's about digital cameras. How did they even work? Where could you buy one? I'm sure they weren't cheap. I had no dreams that night. Early on Saturdays is when I usually did laundry. It wasn't busy and nobody would rip your stuff off at this hour. To hell with it. Sunday morning would work. I raced to the computer which I'd left on. Jeff had sent an email! It had an attachment that I opened so fast...there he was. He didn't look sick. A little skinny, maybe....but well within the normal range. His face was somewhat boyish and pale. His hair was dark and recently cut. He wore a nice, blue-checkered shirt, buttoned all the way to the neck. Handsome man. I could reply and gush about the picture...write some adoring compliments maybe. But I stopped myself. I would turn 30 this year and knew there was no romance left anywhere so there was no point chasing it. This was just a sex thing. That was enough. OK. Time for me find a photograph of myself. I had a whole shoe box full of them and an unused photo album that somebody gave me a long time ago. I was never a fan of looking at pictures of myself because all I could do is see all of my flaws. One of the first few I looked at was taken at some cousin's graduation and it was candid. I was looking over my shoulder at something and my hair looked pretty decent. I bet I was craving a cigarette and was scouting for a place to go have one. My brother probably snapped this one. I decided on this one because I looked okay and really didn't want to go through all the old memories just now. The Kinko's guy was reading a paperback when I walked in, and the place was empty. Good. I was slightly embarrassed even though he'd have no idea what my mission was. He seemed bored and possibly hungover. He listed the options: on a disk, through email, various filters, etc. I didn't really know what to get so I just asked for the deluxe package sent to my email. "Just the one photo? You could bring in up to ten...better value." I didn't even think of that. "No. Just this one." I felt like a kindergartner. "Suit yourself. Put your email address on this form and keep your receipt. This'll probably in your mail by the time you get home." I needed to go do some weekend chores, but I just couldn't wait to talk to Jeff again. Sure enough, the pics were already there. I wasn't real familiar with zip files, but figured it out. So weird -- looking at myself on the computer. They had put borders on some of them, altered brightness and colors. I chose the one where my cheeks looked a little pinker and the background was dark. I attached it to a message for Jeff. Good morning! Here's my pic. It's about six months old, but I look pretty much the same now. Hope we talk soon. My phone number is --- ----, if you'd rather talk that way. Lyle I didn't know what to do with myself at that point. My apartment building was coming to life and so laundry was out of the question. I kind of needed something to focus on just then. Nintendo. I went through all the levels of Mario Bro.s 2 and 3. Was he awake? What was he thinking? Maybe I should vacuum or something. I prepared to busy myself when the phone rang. My heart raced and I tried to get my shit together before answering. I picked up right after the third ring. "Hello?" "Hi Lyle. It's Jeff. I'm looking at your picture now....so cute!" "Thanks. Yours too. I did like you suggested and went to Kinko's. I meant to ask the guy about digital cameras, but he was not all the friendly. Do you know anything about them?" "They have them at the Best Buy here. I think they're a little pricey, but we can go look." "Cool. I want to see you so badly." "Today? Today would be good because my roommate is out of town until Monday." "Oh. I didn't know you had a roommate." "David. It's his house. We're not boyfriends or anything, even though we fool around once every so often. He's poz too." More new things to think about. "I can be there in less than an hour.What's a good time for you?" "Wait until after you eat some lunch. That'll give me time to clean up around here." It was almost 11 AM. "OK. I'll see you around 1 or 1:30." He gave me directions and I wrote them down carefully. There's no way I could eat anything. Electricity was pulsing from my groin to my heart to my brain while my stomach was AWOL. I took a thorough shower and then wondered what the hell I should wear. It was still warm enough for shorts, but I hesitated. I finally just wore the nice, casual clothes I'd planned on wearing to work on Monday. Instead of loafers, I put on some Nike high-tops so it wouldn't look like I was ready for a date. But that's kinda what this was, wasn't it? I hadn't been on an actual date in over a year. I put on just a bit of cologne out of habit. What I felt wasn't "nervous"...it was a step above of that somehow...right below "panic". The drive went by pretty fast even though I listened to AM talk radio. The right-wing assholes flourished in the South. My anger at this demographic distracted me a little. They all hated Clinton and said nasty things about his wife and daughter. Fucking rednecks. I wish my company would transfer me to a blue state like Illinois or California. 'Hallyen' was the name of Jeff's street, but I said it in my head as "Hell Yeah". It was a middle-class neighborhood, and pretty tidy. Jeff's house (or I guess his roommate's house) was set away from the street behind some massive trees. I didn't know what I expected a residence with two poz guys living in it to look like. Maybe I figured it would look a little menacing, darker. But the place looked normal and the day was beautiful. I parked along the curb and turned off the damn radio with rebellious force. To hell with those people. And there he was. Jeff. He was standing there all tall and handsome, with jeans and a gray polo shirt. He looked only slightly different than the photo he sent. He had a full, healthy five o'clock shadow already. His hair was black and there was a hint of something foreign in his skin tone. He had no shoes on. "Lyle? You're slightly early, my friend. It's cool. You're not allergic to cats are you? -- I forgot to ask. There's a cat inside and he hides when David's not here. I always forget what his name is..." "Sorry. The drive was quicker than I thought. I've never been here." The yard was mostly neat. "Come on in. You look nice. I haven't even finished drying my hair. Sorry." "Your hair looks perfect. Nice feet." He looked at me with a puzzled expression. "They're pretty big and beat up, but at least I trimmed the nails not long ago. Come on in." After I was inside, I smelled the odor of pot right away. Pot and cat box. I was no prude or anything...I'd toked more than a few times in college. It just didn't much except make me hungry. There was a ceiling fan lamp on...with multiple globes, but only one of them had a working bulb. The last light with life. My dad wouldn't stand for that. He was always replacing bulbs and searching for the brand that lasted longest. It was maybe to defy mortality. ??? "Nice place, Jeff. Lots of space." Thanks. Make yourself at home and I'll finish getting ready. Want a beer?" He brought me a Bud and disappeared off to another room. He was humming. The beer was burning my stomach a little which made me wish I had actually eaten something beforehand. Oh well. I guess Jeff wasn't a typical gay dude because he finished grooming really fast. His hair was gelled and he was wearing big, clownish deck shoes. Nice. "Hey, Jeff -- I think I need to eat something. Sorry. I forgot about lunch." "Me too. There's a decent taco place on the way to Best Buy. Let's go." His little car was in the driveway and was really warm inside because of the sun. Jeff didn't seem to notice. I worried my pits would start to sweat, but I was a guest. I wouldn't ask for AC or if I could roll down a window. Maybe he was cold-blooded or....or not feeling well. I mean, how could he NOT be sweating?? Nope. Powder dry. I distracted myself with counting all the confederate flags on the route. Goddamn those people. The little taco place was in a strip mall that had only one other tenant...a nail salon. We ate a few tacos and tortilla chips. I felt better almost immediately. I watched Jeff eat. His fingers were long and thick and the wrists were covered with dark fur. There just wasn't one thing about this man that wasn't attractive. The waiter came to collect or plates. "Want a drink, Lyle. I want a drink." "Sounds great!" He turned to the guy. "Dos vasos de tequilas por favor." Tequila. I tried to remember if I'd ever had it before. After the glasses arrived, Jeff reached into his front pocket and retrieved a few pills. I guess my curious eyes gave me away. "It's just Tylenol. I woke up with a little fever this morning." "Oh no! I'm sorry, Jeff." "No worries. I get them from time to time. Nothing too bad." "Do you want to go home? We can do this another time when you're feeling better." "Hell no. We're going to have another drink and I'll be fine by the time we're done." So we has another glass of tequila with ice in it. I was liking it. Jeff ordered one more. "How you feeling?" "Well...I'm feeling warm. It's either the tequila or my fever is gone." "Possibly both." "Yeah. You have great eyes, Lyle. Smart eyes. First thing I noticed was that you had smart eyes. There's always thinking in those eyes." This made me look down. Nobody had ever said such things to me. Most people said I had the same eyes as my dad, but I never got the sense that was really a compliment. "Thanks. Your eyes are beautiful as well. All of you is." "What about one more drink?" I was pretty drunk already, but that was not my biggest concern. Alcohol lowered your immune system and I figured Jeff didn't need that just now. "Will you be OK? I don't want you to get a fever again." "It's gone. I know all the cops around here. They're usually drunker than anyone they pull over. Let's go!" He paid the bill even though I'd wanted to. It was still so nice outside. I wasn't wobbling or anything, but my balance was a little off. I watched Jeff's perfect ass as he walked ahead of me. It was so fine even though his jeans sagged a little low at the waist. It was still warm inside the car, even warmer than before. "Do you mind if I roll down the window a little?" "Yeah...as long as you don't mind if we put off the Best Buy trip until later. That tequila wiped me out." "No problem. We can go whenever you want. Are you okay?" "Just tired. I didn't sleep all that well last night." He wasn't the only one. Back at his place, Jeff turned his big TV. "Not much on but college football today. That okay? You follow sports at all?" "Not passionately, but it's fine. Go lie down and I might even have a little snooze myself." He smiled,handed me the remote and left. I don't dislike football. My thing with watching any sporting event is that it all seems like reruns to me...I couldn't tell if I was watching a new game or one from ten years ago. Maybe I would stretch out on the couch and take a nap. I muted the volume and watched the hulking beasts run into each other over and over again. I was drifting off but also keenly aware of the beautiful man sleeping so near by. If you could somehow combine a shot of tequila with elements of college sports, you'd have the greatest sleep aid ever. Jeff was awake and trying not to make noise. Just his presence in the room was enough to jolt me out of a sound sleep. I listened to him clatter around the kitchen for a few minutes before getting up. I followed the sounds and found him peppering two thawed steaks. "Hi. Do you feel better, Jeff?" "Yeah. Much. I thought I'd grill out on the deck while the weather is still nice...sound good?" "Sounds great." "Want a beer or a soda or something?" He'd changed clothes. "Beer sounds good." "Well...there's two different kinds in there. Possibly three. Pick one and bring it out back while I get started." The refrigerator was packed with all kinds of good stuff. I'd never asked Jeff what he did for a living. Maybe David was wealthy. Whatever -- I guess it wasn't any of my business. He hadn't asked me much either. I went through the sliding glass door and smelled that wonderful smell of charcoal and lighter fluid. The odor of Summer. "It's a nice space here. Your backyard is beautiful." "I'll tell David you said so. He is obsessed with getting everything raked, mowed and weeded. Speaking of which...." He offered me a blunt that was already lit. "A little appetizer?" "Thanks." I took a toke and watched Jeff slide the steaks onto the grill. I was no prude about weed, but a little particular. I loved smoking it with really good friends, but it felt weird to bet stoned with people I didn't know very well. It didn't seem like a very social drug. "I'm glad we can talk. When the cicadas come out in the evenings, you have to practically yell. They are usually out by this time of year. Weird. That annoying song they sing means that Summer is over." "My dad always called them 'locusts' even though I tried to explain to him the difference many times. Stubborn bastard, my dad." "That reminds me. We're having a salad alongside the steak. I made it fresh. We used to buy that bagged salad, but I once found a live grasshopper in one I'd just got from the store. Never again. I don't I made the coals hot enough, so this will take awhile." "It's fine. It's just so beautiful back here. I live in an apartment and am almost never outdoors." The weed was relaxing, but not intense. My stoner friend Jimmy would call it 'kind'. Jeff settled down on the bench next to me. He'd put on flip-flops that were probably a size too small because his large toes hung over the edges. "Here's what I find weird about you, Lyle." Uh oh "You are super smart and always thinking...so why haven't you asked me many questions? I mean, we've talked about insects more than we have about important stuff. Are you biting your tongue?" "No." I handed him the roach. "I'm just a clod. I like you so much and I don't to ruin my chances by asking too much." The meat was just barely starting to sizzle over the heat. "I guess I understand that. You're not a clod...just polite. I should tell you that I'm unemployed. I worked for a place that did lithography...coupons, ads and crap that most everybody throws away. Word got out about me and they fired my ass." "Is that even legal?" "Probably. This is the South. I didn't love it there enough to fight. David and I were fuck buddies back then and he invited me to move in. We're both such sluts and it's anybody's guess as to who pozzed who first. This for four years ago. I do everything around the house, but not the gardening. David's a physical therapist and makes a very decent living. Your turn, Lyle." "Um...I am an Aries. I work for a regional magazine, doing layout and some writing." "Have you ever been in love?" "Yes. I can honestly say I once was. His name was Norman. I know I felt love, but I'm not sure he ever did. We weren't sexually compatible. Those were his words." "Like how?" "He was very endowed. It hurt too much to have him try to fuck me. He bought me a dildo to practice with, but I just couldn't make myself use it." "I'm the same way...it's flesh or nothing. But the bad news is that my dick is really big. Probably bigger than Norman's." We'd finished the roach, but Jeff had a fresh fatty ready to spark. "Oh." "Maybe he was just too impatient. Or maybe he was a jerk." "Probably both." "I'm very patient and know how to go slow...especially with beginners." "I've been fucked before...guys with smaller penises. Always with a condom, though." "Well, I've got tons of Trojans in my bedroom. I don't like wearing them, but they can be fun to jack off with." The sun was close to setting and I wondered how high I was. We ate and talked about more mundane things as the coals in the grill slowly died out. The cicadas started their obnoxious hum. "They're here!" "Perfect timing...I was just about to suggest we go inside." I wanted to sit for a little longer. That sound , that song that signaled the and and beginning of things. Jeff put his flip-flops back on and left all the dirty plates outside. "Is the fire out?" "I don't know, Boy Scout. I'll have over 24 hours before I have to clean everything up. David could be on LSD and still have to do the dishes before going to bed." Once inside, my host pit some of the many candles that seemed to be everywhere. I'll leave the TV off is you don't mind. Want music?" A wave of dreamy static washed over my brain. I kind of wanted to hear the cicadas harmonize above the roof. "Sure, Jeff. Anything you want." "Ever hear of Mazzy Star? It's probably my favorite CD of all time. I once smoked a shit ton of hash and listened to the whole thing twice. I swear I found a few dimensions of reality that night." I knew I'd love it. I knew I would because I love everything about how I felt. I would have admitted I loved Jeff too, but that would wreck everything. "Sure If you've never heard this group, go to youtube and sample it now. I mean, wow. It was beautiful, hypnotic and yet still interesting. The singer's voice was like a tiny fairy serenading your soul. It helped that his sound system was amazing. My ex had a thing for Enya, but I could never understand what the fuck she was saying. "You like this, Lyle?" "I love you...I mean 'it'. I love it." I guess I was too stoned to be embarrassed. He chuckled and finished off the joint. "Me too. I've got more weed in my room, but let's sit here for a few minutes. Take your shoes off at least. Relax." I did, and it felt so good I took my socks and shirt off too. "Nice. I was going to do that for you if you didn't." While I was in audio bliss, he had already stripped down to his underwear. I was a little sad that there wasn't more than candlelight in the room. I wanted to see his body under a thousand watt bulb. But this was nice in a way too. Even though there so many shadows in the room, I could tell his dick was huge. Way bigger than Norman's. He never showed much when soft -- not like Jeff. I wanted to stare at his bulge, but my eyes were closing. I wasn't so much sleepy as I was in a pre-dream sue to the music. One lyric, one piece of music caught my attention: "I could possibly be fading/ Or have something more to gain/ I could feel myself growing colder/ I could feel myself under your fate" He wasn't next to me. "Jeff??" "I'm just getting a beer...I have cotton mouth really bad. Want one?" "Yeah. This CD is amazing." I'd buy a copy for myself if we ever made it to Best Buy. As if he's been reading my earlier thoughts, Jeff switched on a hallway light. The room brightened a little. He also brought a big candle to the coffee table in front of us. I took the opportunity to look at his groin. I might have looked too intently. "You like it, huh? It doesn't scare you?" "No. It's...I want it." "Okay. Just double-checking. I want to show it to you. So bad. So, so bad." He dropped his undies and THERE it was. It was so long and wide...and somehow alien. I swear it twitched a little. "You can touch it if you want." And I did...maybe too fast. It was super-heated and started to get bigger as I gripped the shaft. "I've never seen a dick this big! You're right...it's way bigger than Norman's." I bet he was used to getting complimented on his awesome meat. "Please kiss it. Please." He didn't need to be so polite. I put the warm head to my lips and tasted this beautiful man. I was savoring the flavors and didn't realize how completely hard he was getting. "That's nice. Take off the rest of your clothes and then I want you to suck me." It was awkward to strip completely in front of this perfect specimen, but I wanted to please him so badly." And he remained fully hard. I was no good at estimating size, but I'd bet it was over ten inches and my wristwatch would probably fir snugly around the base. It hung in the candlelight like a third arm or something. "It'll be easier if I sit. Get on the floor." You know when you're at a restaurant and really hungry? You order too much food and can't eat it all. That was me right then. I wanted to take that cock all the way down to my lungs, but only get about a third of it in my mouth. Jeff played with my hair and humped a little, trying to get farther in. My stupid gag reflex kept kicking in (a problem I'd had with Norman). "Sorry." "What? Why? You're going farther down than most guys can. I want you to enjoy this too. It just feels so nice and I can get a little greedy with a nice mouth on my dick." I eased up a bit He was moaning and breathing heavily. I could do this all day, every day. Would he cum? Mine own dick was ready to burst. "OK. Come sit down here beside me." He lit up the third or fourth joint of the evening. I kind of didn't want to get more altered so I faked my tokes. "The candles smell good. What scent are they?" "Damned if I know. David buys them. I like the plain ones because just the smell of ordinary melted wax is nice enough. Come on. Let's go to my bedroom." He took me by the hand and led me into the shadows. The room was very inviting. There was a night light already on and the bed was made. It made me happy that he'd planned on bringing me here all along. "This is a nice room, Jeff." "Thanks. The bedding is brand new...you can help me break it in." He stretched out on top of the comforter and closed his eyes for a second.. His cock was still rock hard. "I'm going to ask you this only once more...Are you sure you want to do this with no condom?" I was so sure. "I don't usually allow guys I top to have a choice, but I'm giving you - just you - the option." "I appreciate that, but I don't want latex between us." "And you fully understand what could happen if I cum in your ass? You're not too stoned?" Was I? "I'm fine. Ask me to name every state capitol...in alphabetical order." "No. That would make me go limp. I believe you. Get on up here and you can sit on it. That way will be easiest." He produced a tube of lube and started oiling up his throbbing boner.I could watch him do that for hours. "I so wish I had a digital camera right now. Is that KY? Norm used that on us." "No. This is way better. I don't have much left so we need to make it count." I straddled his waist and let him massage a wet glob of the stuff into my butt hole. Jeff had larger fingers than my ex, but was much more gentle. That alone felt so good, I'd almost be happy if it ended now. "Good God. You are super tight...this will take some time. Ready? Just ease down on my cock. Don't rush." He held my sides and guided me lower. I felt him contact ever so slowly. I remember this as always being the worst part. I wondered if I should have asked him to just rape me and get it over with. But he wasn't that kind of guy and I really needed this to mean something. "Ow!" "Sorry, Lyle. Too fast?" "It's fine. It's fine. Are you in?" "Just barely. Relax and try to get used to it. for a minute. I can wait." It was painful but I willed myself to concentrate on the feelings of pleasure that had to be coming soon. "Yeah. Oh! Take your time." Amazingly, I had made it almost halfway down the shaft...still waiting for the good feelings to begin. "I can't take more of it, Jeff." "It's okay. We'll stay like this and smoke a little." He lit up the blunt, but I declined. I'd had enough...and I didn't want an ember to drop on his hairy chest and set him on fire. I relaxed a little and another half inch entered me. "Don't rush, babe". "It's feeling pretty good right now." It was. THIS is why guys did this. I finally got it just then. "Good! I'll let you set the pace." I maybe pushed my luck a little because I felt my ass rip more. "Wait. Hold on." His dick was wide as a wrist at the base. I'd come too far to hesitate now. "You're almost there. Goddamn it feels so good inside you. Shit. You're gonna get a big load pretty soon." And then he was all the way in. The pain wan't gone but it was starting to get crowded out by the pleasures... both mental and physical. I lifted up a little and move back down, letting that huge penis stir my innards. He slowly started to thrust to meet the rhythm I'd started. He let out a long groan. "OK, man. I'm almost ready to shoot." "Don't. Not yet. Can we switch places?" The low light in the room hid his expression. "Perfect! We can fuck like newlyweds." It was a little awkward changing positions because I didn't want him to pull out for even a second. And then we settled in the missionary style. "Bring your knees down as close to your shoulders as you can..yeah. Like that." He was setting the pace now because I think he knew I wanted him to take over completely. He did. The thrusting intensified and sweat was dripping onto my face. I caught more of his face in the dim light. His eyes were squeezed shut and his smile was bright and natural. "Yeah! Cum inside of me, Jeff! I want it!" He was pure animal after that, growling and primal. At no point in my life had I ever felt this turned on. "I...I..Oh God. I'm breeding you now, little buddy! Shit!" He'd shot his load only a split-second before I did. Everything would be different now. He collapsed on top of me and his heavy breathing had a slight rasp. My gluey load was squished between us, making a slightly comical noise.Then we kissed for a long time. His breathing was returning to normal. I was blissed-out. After the lust and adrenaline left my system, the weed resumed its work. How was it even possible for a human being to feel so good? "That was fantastic, Jeff. Thank you." "It was great, huh? Do you need the bathroom? It's right across the hall from my door." I did have to sit on the toilet, but had no idea what would come out of me. I was ready for whatever. I sat for a while, but blood mixed with a little lube is all that was in the bowl. I stayed longer, not wanting to chance an accident while I slept. I was fine. I'd read porn stories where the bottom was fucked so hard he could barely walk. I could walk just fine. There was some soreness, sure, but nothing too bad. "What time is it?" "Last I looked at the clock, it was after 10. I'm gonna take a little nap...you can go watch TV if you want to." No way. I wanted to lie down next to that big, warm body. Our 'nap' lasted until morning. He snored and mumbled in his sleep...but it sounded like music to me. Neither of us really wanted to leave the bed, but gradually did. We never made it Best Buy on Sunday. We smoked, fooled around and talked. At one point I almost said "I love you", but held off. He'd already said he was not the boyfriend type in so many words. It had been a great fuck and that's all. It was a harsh truth that I hadn't really prepared myself for, and it made me think I should go home now. I'd always have the memory of this. Jeff and I hugged goodbye. I thought about "love" on the highway. I still felt it. Maybe it was enough just for me to have the feeling and enjoy it. Just because he wasn't in love didn't have to figure into the equation just now. Love feels good...as good or better than sex. I could have this emotion even if it wasn't returned. That's where I stayed and am still staying to this day. A great ending to this story would be Jeff eventually falling in love with me and us moving in together. That's not what happened. Jeff died two weeks later. After unanswered calls and no sign in the chat room, I finally drove to his place one night. David was home and he told me what had happened. "He got pneumonia and went really fast. He was only in the hospital for ten hours. He's buried in the small town where his mother lives. I have her number if you want it." I took it calmly and jammed it in my pocket. "Thanks." "I'm sorry, man. Do you want to sit down and have a drink?" Oh fuck. If he tried to hit on me, I'd lose it. "No thanks." I could feel tears wanting to come. "You're Lyle, right?" I nodded. "He liked you. Said you had fun." I'd never return to this town. The physical Jeff was gone, but he was still alive in my thoughts and in my heart. AIDS had ruined so many love stories, but I'd never let it claim this one.

10 years ago So much of this story causes me personal shame. It's embarrassing. I'm currently 47 years old, but I still felt like a kid ten years ago. I was 37 and fighting some demons from childhood. I was raised in a very strict, religious household and remember rules and discipline as a way of life. I rebelled like we all do at some point. Unfortunately, I never grew out of that stage. I got stoned right before my high school graduation...and pretty much every day after that for the next three years. College was pretty much a breeze, but in my senior year, I woke up a little and shed some anger in order to get my degree. The problem is that I never got over my hate of doing stuff I didn't want to do. Sure, I got up early every morning and worked at a job -- but I never got a regular checkup with a doctor, and I never ever went to the dentist. I'd had a wisdom tooth removed when I was in my 20's. It was such a bad experience that they only did the one even though I had three more that needed taken out. I swore I'd never go back. And I didn't for over ten years. Well, you can guess what happened ... I eventually developed some major issues in my mouth. I paid for my neglect with horrible tooth pain. No amount of Advil would help. I once took shots directly from a bottle of rum to kill the pain. I woke up sick and spit blood into the bathroom sink. Not good. It was time to grow up a little and make a dental appointment. I nosed around on the computer to find dentists in my area. I came across Dr. Manning, who not only was near me, but took my insurance. He also practiced "sedation dentistry" which I'd never heard of. If you don't know it already, you can now go to a dentist and be drugged up for hours while they fix everything wrong with your death and you're not even aware of it. Sounded good to me. His picture was on the website. He was a handsome, mid-50's guy with a salt and pepper mustache. I called and made an appointment. The phone lady was very nice...and had that so soothing 'nurse voice'. I told her about my pain and she was very sympathetic, but said I'd need to come in for x-rays and consultation before any work could be done. Fine. I lived through a few more unbearable nights before the appointment. I was tense as hell and even the dental assistant noticed. She left the room for a few minutes and came back with a valium. "Dr. Manning is running late. Take this and relax a little while. I'd never had any tranquilizer before, but quickly understood why people got addicted to them. Damn.,I felt perfect and in love with the world. I dreamed for a bit. I think. A hand touched my shoulder....Dr. Manning. The lady assistant was there too. "You less nervous now? Poor kid. Linda, take his blood pressure." Then I was sorta awake as the cuff went on my arm. It had to be low now, but it wasn't....170/50. "Start him on the gas and I'll go adjust Carmen's braces." He put a hand on my chest and said "I can't do anything until you calm down. " It's impossible to 'try to relax', but as soon as I started breathing the air coming from that mask -- it felt like a piece of paper floating in the wind. There should be a better way to describe it, but that's all I could think of at the time. It had no odor that I could perceive. I could hear the dentist and his assistant talking and asking me to open wide and telling me to relax. They scraped and inspected, and I thought it was great. Fun. After they stopped the gas, I was out of my happy trance in seconds. "Well, Vince...we've got some work to do." I needed the other wisdom teeth removed, three fillings, a crown and a thorough cleaning. I was so embarrassed. "We can do almost all of it in two appointments, but you need to get the blood pressure normalized. I have a friend, an internist over at Saint Luke's who will get you in soon. Follow his instructions and then come back. I'm writing you a scrip for some strong pain pills. Don't take more than three in a 24 hour time period. We'll call you in a few weeks to see how things are going. Sheila at the front desk will be ready for you whenever you've awake enough to get up. "I just need half a minute." Dr. Manning sent his assistant to retrieve that internist's number from his office, leaving me and the doc alone. "You are way too tense. Bill can help with that too. Why are you so nervous?" "I just always feel like a tight coil inside." "Is that why you party?" "Huh?" "I could smell a little booze and pot in the air you breathed out. People always think they can brush or use mouthwash and we won't know. We always know." "You married, Dr. Manning?" I had no idea why I asked that. "I was once. Years ago. What about you?" "Nah. I am too independent to be in a union of any kind." "Yeah. That's pretty much where I'm at now. If you still feel loopy, I can give you a ride home. Sometimes the gas affects people that way." I should have taken him up on the offer, but I declined. "I'm okay now. Thanks, though." "Here..take a few of these until you get the scrip filled." He took my hand, opened it and dropped a few pink tablets into my palm. "Don't say anything. This is just between us." "Gotcha. So I call back here in a few weeks?" "Or we'll call you...or at least I will." Three weeks later, I was feeling okay. His friend had put me on some blood pressure pills and an anxiety med. Xanax became my new best friend. It was like the valium but more so. The pain pills really worked well. I checked my blood pressure every other day at Walgreen's. It was normal...almost nearly normal. I was in bed, enjoying the pills and thinking I'd call the dentist office tomorrow from work. As soon as I formed that thought, my phone rang. Oh fuck it...It was late and I was on a cloud. It stopped ringing but then started again thirty seconds later. "Hello?" "Did I wake you?" "What? Not really. Who is this?" "It's Mark. Mark Manning -- your dentist." "Oh Hi. I was going to call your office tomorrow. My blood pressure is way lower now." "Excellent! We can fix your teeth now. Schedule an appointment tomorrow morning. I assume you want to be konked out for the first round." "Oh yeah. Do I get extra gas or something?" "That...and we give you heavy-duty pills. Your insurance won't cover the gas or the meds, so it'll set you back several hundred bucks." "Mark?" "Yes?" His voice was deep and sultry. "What time is it?" "Not so late. I just wanted to check on you. I assumed you were doing well...checking your blood pressure at that pharmacy multiple times." What? How did he know? "Yeah. I don't feel as coiled now, but I sleep more than I ever did." "Good! Sleep is healing. It'll help you keep looking so young." I smiled in the darkness, and my dick shifted in my boxers. "I need to sleep now, Doc. I'll call the office in the morning." "You better...I'll keep checking. Good night, kid." Damn. He was one attentive dentist. Was his business doing bad and he needed to get more patients? No. I somehow knew what was going on. The Xanax was dragging me down into sleep. I remember in my early weed-smoking days, that I used to imagine that our reality as very layered. I'd lie in bed and go deeper through the levels. I was going way deep under the waking reality, thinking of this Dr. Manning. I called from work the next day and spoke to that pleasant front desk woman. "We've been expecting you call, Vince. Do you have a pen and paper near you? There are instructions to follow.Ready?" "Yeah." "OK. You first need to come get the sedation pills here at the office. They'll be here this afternoon. Can you come by before 6?" "I'll be there." "Good. Now, you can't drive here yourself for the appointment. Do you know someone who can bring you? We have a deal with a taxi service. Dr. Manning said he'd even drive you here himself." My friend and neighbor, Ernie was a retired man and never did anything but fuss around his garden. It was almost Winter now, so he stayed on the couch and watched "Law and Order". For hours. He was a buddy and always bringing me tomatoes and radishes. "I have somebody to drive me." "Okay. If I'm not there when you get the pills today. Just take them as directed. Do you have an Ipod or something like that? Some patients like to hear music." "Yes. I have one." "Wear loose clothing -- like sweats or something. You have to probably take two days off of work. Are you able to do that?" "Yes." I had so much vacation saved up because I never went anywhere. Or did anything. "Good enough. See you this afternoon...or Jemma will. My day is in flux because my daughter is sick." "Sorry. Hope she feels better soon." "Thanks. Have a good day." I had meetings all morning. My phone was blinking with multiple messages. You can guess who they were from. Dr. Manning himself. I knew his voice so well. "Glad you called. How's work?" beep "What time are you coming in today? I'll try to be there to say 'hi'" beep "Are you ever in your office?" beep It occurred to me that this guy was not very professional. Did I mind? Fuck no. I think he and I had something. But what? He was older and divorced and my dentist. I decided I'd go along for the ride. I picked up the little plastic package of 400 dollar pills. Mark wasn't there. The front desk lady told me he wanted to schedule me for Saturday morning. That was fine because Old Ernie got up at the crack of dawn to rake or fill his bird feeders every Saturday. The Friday evening before my appointment, Ernie called to tell me that his daughter had been in a car accident. She'd be okay, but would have to spend the next few days in the hospital. She was about 200 miles from us, and he needed to leave tonight to visit her. I ran through a list of names of people I could call to get up early on a Saturday and take me to the dentist. I hated annoying people. I'd call and schedule a taxi, but needed to find a number. Shit. People had tougher lives than me and coped somehow. I only had a short time to figure out a plan. As I started my usual period of panic, the phone rang. "Hello?" "Nervous? You need to take that yellow pill pretty soon so you can get some sleep. It's the smallest one." "Mark?" "Yeah. Sorry. I was worried about you. It will be totally fine and easy tomorrow. Take the pill now...while we're talking. You need to be rested." "Now?" "Yep. I went by your house after work today and saw your neighbor guy put suitcases in his car. Is all that all for you?" "No. His daughter was in a wreck and he had to travel. What's the name of the taxi service you office uses?" "Don't bother.U'll pick you up at 8:30. You need to take the biggest pill an hour ahead of time. So get up at 7:15 and take it. It's supposed to be cold. Wear sweats if you have them." "Thanks, Doc." "My pleasure. You took the night pill, right?" "Just now." "OK. Good. Get ready for bed...you'll be crashing soon. Are you on a cell? Can we talk while you're in bed?" "Sure. Can you hold while I get undressed and settled in?" I put the phone down and left my clothes on the floor. I went about my usual nighttime routine. I turned on the TV and muted it. I kept it on a jewelry shopping network as I fell asleep. Something about those glittering gemstones was hypnotic. I got under the covers. "Mark? You there?" "Yeah. Just listening to you. Your breathing is getting heavy -- which means you'll be sleeping soon. How do you feel?" "Wonderful. Like...just...wonderful." "That's my boy!" "How. Why? I mean..do you do this for all your patients?" "Not really, but you're a friend of mine...I make exceptions for good friends." "Oh. OK." We were friends all the sudden? GOOD friends? I guess it was true if he was saying it. "Kiddo? Are you sleeping?? What do you wear when you sleep?" "Huh? Just underwear. Why?" "Describe them a little. What color? What style?" "Yup." I felt like I was dreaming. "OK. I'll call you early to make sure you're up." "Absolutely." And then I slipped away. Dreams were waiting. I slept so well and only woke up when the phone rang. They'd call back when I got done exploring heaven. "WAKE UP!" "No! Stop! I ..." Dr. Manning was there in my bedroom, standing over me. How the fuck did he get in here?? "You need to wake up a little. We're running late, Vince. Damn! I should have factored in your pain pills and Xanax. This is my fault. Take this now and I'll give you the last one when we get there. Might as well take it with a beer. Coffee will only make you tense." It was weird to taste beer while I was still half-asleep, but whatever. He helped get me dressed -- which I'd have found really awkward if I would have been fully awake. I washed my face, brushed my teeth and put on a ball cap. "I'm ready." "Here's your coat...it's super cold this morning." His fancy sports car looked out of place in my crummy driveway. The air smelled like snow. "Nice car, Matt." The seat was so comfortable. He chuckled. "It's 'Mark', buddy. You want some music?" "Oh shit! I forgot my ipod." "I've got a portable CD player in the office. We really don't have time to go back now." "And my wallet. I forgot that too." "No problem. We'll send you a bill. Just don't worry anymore. You are the most person I've ever met. Now, do you want music or not?" "Yeah. Christmas music." I must have been feeling the effects because I normally hated holiday songs. This town had at least two radio stations that played only carols this time of year. Mark found one of them and festive tunes washed over us. His audio system was amazing. Maybe I nodded off a little. I just felt so, so perfect. "OK. We're not all that late. Lois is already here though." Who was talking? Oh. I woke up a little. I thought I'd forgotten my coat too, but I was wearing it. Mark helped me walk to the office building like I was feeble or something. My memory gets a little spotty from there. "So...what now?" I was in the warm waiting room, and no one else seemed to be around. "Take this. It'll be a short wait. I guess I should say "good bye" now because you won't remember much for the next five or six hours." "OK, Mom." He laughed and then left me alone. I could have dozed off right then, but I fought it. Why would I want to sleep through this perfect feeling? I made myself be aware for as I could. It's like when you reach that perfect buzz while drinking...remember what you can because you'll ultimately be sick. I was reclined in the dentist chair and Lois had the little CD player ready for me. "What kind of music do you like?" "Alternative." She stared blankly. I was unable to explain that any further. She was probably a Garth Brooks fan. A minute later she came back with an Oasis CD. "That's perfect," I said even though I'd always been lukewarm on that band. They had a few hits. So much for trying to remember everything...it was mostly a blank from then on. I remember that the music was better than any music I'd ever heard. And then...a huge blank. While I was out, three wisdom teeth were removed and a crown out in. I felt none of it. I do remember that I needed to pee really bad...and I had a stomach cramp. At some point. I was sitting on a toilet. As much as I needed to pee, I needed to poop more. My ass was sore. It was like a raw sunburn feeling. I guess all the meds were having a side effect. The process took forever. I might have been in there too long because the door opened. "You OK?" It was Mark. I pulled my shirt down a little to cover my stuff. "Yeah. Just slow." "OK. I'll be right outside if you need something." Then there was a bunch of blank space. It was sometime in the evening when I slowly came out of the haze. I was in bed. I never knew my mattress was this comfortable. I might have snoozed another hour before I returned to the world. I thought it was weird that my jaws and my mouth didn't hurt at all. My ass was still sore though. It took a confusing few seconds before I realized I was not in my own bedroom. It was a nice, spacious bedroom with fancy decor. Huh? I was suddenly sure of where I was...Dr. Manning's house. Probably. I didn't trust my brain too much right then. There were dried blood droplets in my underwear...and then I knew. I knew he'd fucked me at some point. I was no virgin. I'd been fucked by my first boyfriend/mentor. He'd been a safe sex fanatic and we used condoms always. After the first time, my ass felt a lot like it did now. The pieces were starting to come together, and I somehow didn't mind too much. Mark had taken advantage of my coma-like state and gotten his rocks off. With a condom? I doubted it. I decided to compose myself and get dressed. My folded sweats and shoes were all placed nicely in the bedroom. I was ready to see what other weird shit the day (or night) had in store. I took a breath and walked out the door. I could hear a TV and followed the sound. There was Mark, wearing only a pajama bottoms. His bare feet were propped up on top of a coffee table that probably cost as much as my car. His bare torso was covered with fur and he was smoking a joint. "Hey! Have a good nap?" "Yeah. Are we...why did you bring me here?" "I just wanted to make sure you had someone near to take care of you. How are you feeling?" "Not bad. Good, actually." I was holding my cards close to my vest. It would do me no good to start accusing him of rape. Not yet. "Well, the worst is over. Don't touch your gums. I'd offer you a hit, but you need to not suck anything for a day. The suction might open the wounds in your mouth. Wanna shotgun?" "What's that?" I knew what it was. My God, his body was so sexy. "Come sit. I'll take a hit and blow it directly into your mouth." So we did that a few times. His warm lips on mine felt so nice...and familiar somehow. He kept urging me to take more and more "shotguns". Eventually we were just kissing with no smoke involved. OK, this was happening. I was overwhelmed with a bunch of thoughts fighting each other. He pulled away and stood up. "You hungry? I made made some mashed potatoes with green onions and cream. It won't hurt your mouth to eat it." "Cool. Thanks, Mark." "I'd bring you a beer, but you can't have anything carbonated for another twelve hours. Want some wine?" "Sure. I'll have some if you do." He wasn't the only one with devious plans in his head. "Already started without you. It's almost 9 at night, Vince." "Wow." No way. I'd lost most of my Saturday. He brought me an overfull glass of red wine. "Do you remember anything that happened?" I chose my words. "I think I sort of remember Lois taking me to the bathroom." "Nope. That was me. I sent Lois home as soon as you were prepped. It was just us for three hours. I only open the office on weekends for long procedures...like yours." He put down a plate of the promised mashed potatoes. It was not bad, but my stomach fought it. I could not eat any more without gagging, so I just sipped the wine. It was probably really expensive, but I had no knowledge of wines. It was just fruity booze to me. There was a college football game on his super TV. I gave no shits about NCAA football because my college team was always awful. "Can we watch something else, Mark?" I wondered if he'd put on some gay porn. But no. He found the old version of "Little Women" on a classic movie channel. It was the black and white one with that famous actress as a younger gal. Hepburn? "They always show this around the holidays. Like this?" "Yeah. I loved the novel as a kid. I got fun of for walking around with a 'girl's book'. Can we do some more shotgunning?" "I was just about to ask you that!" He brought out a very nice bong and fired it up. "We need to go slow, Babe. This medical grade." He took a major hit and exhaled directly into my mouth. His lips...my God...I wanted to kiss him forever. "Okay. Let that sink in for a bit and watch the story." Oh fuck the March sisters -- just keep kissing me, Dr. Rapist! I nodded and finished the wine that he kept refilling. I was so wasted suddenly. We dropped all pretext and just started kissing like lovers. I let my hand rest on his crotch which was growing. I could have just laid my cards on the table...I could have just confessed that I knew what he'd done to me today. He was an enthusiastic kisser and I was rock hard in my sweats. "One more hour and then you need to rest...you've had a big day." "I don't feel sleepy at all. Well, a little bit maybe." "Yeah, but your mouth will start hurting soon. It'll wake you up in the middle of the night. Let me give you a few pills to prevent that." He got up with an obvious boner and left the room. Damn. It's like he wanted me drugged all the time. No discussion about the kissing or my hand on his dick. I'd play along...it was Saturday night after all. I think it was. I took the tablets he handed me. I couldn't help but notice how clean and well-groomed his fingers were. One of the Little Women was sick and dying. I used to know all their names. "Were those sleeping pills or pain pills?" "Both." Damn. He was going to continue this ruse with a guy who was smart enough to figure things out. Or maybe he knew that I knew. That would another level to this game we seemed to be playing. We shotgunned and drank more as I got drowsier and more into that next world he wanted me in. Right about the time I was going to ask Mark a question, I slipped away. Blackness and mist. The only thing I remember is being in that excellent bed again. I also kind of remember being naked and feeling my neck kissed, but that might have been a dream. The morning crept around his thick, luxurious drapes...and I was alone again. My butt ached again, but not as bad. It was also a little damp. He'd done it again! If only he knew how much I'd have been willing to fuck with no impairment. "Breakfast!," He called from behind the door. "Take a quick shower. I washed your sweats and left you a clean towel." I cleansed and fixed my hair up a little. He left me the washed sweats but no underwear or socks. I was a little hungover. OK...I was his plaything, but he didn't seem to realize that I was willing. No drugs needed. I would have to say something...soon. I had to work tomorrow and, while this had been adventure, it was a little tiresome to appear stupid. I guess my shoes were still by the couch, so I just went into the kitchen barefoot. He was fussing around with the stove. "Good morning." "Hello! How's the mouth?" "No pain. You're good at your job, Mark." Boy was he ever. "Aw. Thanks. Always nice to hear that. I made French toast. It's probably not going to hurt your gums now." We sat at his kitchen table and ate. My mom never made French toast, and so this was new to me. Sweeter food than I liked in the mornings, but....but Mark made it for me. I was becoming infatuated with him and his devious ways. "I'm not wearing underwear... feels odd." "I'm not either. All that is in the drier. I have a housekeeper who comes in three times a week. She's coming tomorrow morning. I'll let Rosa clean all this up." "I can't believe the whole weekend is over. They close down my office building from Christmas Eve until after New Year's. That's coming up and I can't wait." He smiled and started lighting the bong again. Dang. For a doctor, he smoked a lot of weed. "What do you do for Christmas, Vince?" "Usually go visit my parents, but I don't know if I can handle it this year. They are decent people, but so religious and nagging. My dad and I tend to argue." "Same here. Did I tell you I was raised a Mormon?" "No way." He'd lost his place in Mormon heaven a long time ago. "Yeah. I just hang out with friends on Christmas...good friends like you." Whoa. It was time to say something. Apparently this man equated drugged rape with friendship. "Mark...I need to tell you something." He leaned over and exhaled a giant weed cloud into my mouth. I kepi my mouth where it was and we passionately kissed for a full minute. "What?" "Nothing...I ...I just think I'm falling for you." I'd chickened out. "About time. I was waiting to hear that. I should tell you a few things first." Here it comes. "I've loved you from the minute you walked into my office...and I got carried away. I followed you and googled you. I know so much." "Is that it? What about admitting you raped me twice while I was drugged?" Silence hung thick in the air. He shifted and looked at the ceiling. "Three times. I fucked you three times in the past 24 hours. Are you mad?" "Let's just say I figured it out. But, why? I would have said 'yes' with no drugs involved." "It's my thing. I love fucking passed-out men. Maybe it's a self-esteem thing, but I am too awkward when the other guy is fully awake." "But you are gorgeous. You don't need to drug people. I really want to have sex with you and remember it...see things, feel things." "I know. I want to do that too...but it might take some time, okay?" My boner was completely gone. His fetish was helpless, unconscious guys. That was not a good thing any way you looked at it. "Did you at least put a condom on?" Silence. "No. That's my other thing...I like to go in bare, make my seed count. I most likely don't have anything if that's what you're worried about." "OK. I should probably go home now. I don't even know if I'm mad or not, and I need some time alone right now." He nodded and went to retrieve the rest of my clothes from the dryer. I just held the socks and underwear and stood by the front door. "Let me get some shoes and a coat. I'll be right back. The garage door is at the far left end of the kitchen." I went there and kept my expression neutral. I wanted to keep guessing what I was thinking. I could report Mark and get him arrested, but that wasn't anything I wanted to do. I could just get another dentist, but I liked him still. Still. Even after everything. Didn't we all have a weird desire or two? He was so handsome and so smart...friendly. I'd figure it out somehow. I've learned over time that the brain is more trustworthy than the heart. He drove me home. I was amazed at how such a nice neighborhood could be so close to my plain one. He had the Christmas music station on again, and it was playing probably my favorite song with my favorite verse: "...from now on, your troubles will be out of sight." "I know this probably isn't a good time, but you still need to get a few fillings. If we do it now, you can avoid getting more crowns. Just saying. If you want to go to a different dentist, I can refer you to somebody. A woman if you want." "No. It's okay. Later this week, maybe." "This week would be best. Will you call me?" "I will." We got to my place and barely said good-bye. I just needed to be in a safe place with the door locked and the blinds drawn. Ernie was still gone. The inside of my house seemed foreign, and I wished I had a dog. Or a cat. I never realized how lonely my life was. Oh well. I needed a good friend to call, but it was a weird afternoon hour on a Sunday. Everybody would be deep into football and drinking and chicken wings and talking. No thanks. I just took an extra long shower and dressed like I was ready for bed. I turned on the TV, but was careful to avoid seeing that creepy "60 Minutes" clock ticking away. I found "Scrooged" on a lame channel and watched that. It was such a mean-spirited movie, but the ending was supremely uplifting. Time for a pill. Dr. Manning had given me so many extra tranquilizers that I could afford to splurge a little now. I settled on the couch and imagined I had a big, furry cat on my lap. Of course I dozed and barely remember watching the movie. What WAS that actress's name? I used to know it. It was almost 10 PM when the phone rang. I knew who it would be. "Hello?" "Hi, Vince. How are you?" "I was just relaxing for a bit. Let me grab a diet coke...hold on. OK. What's up, Mark?" "I made some calls...I don't want to tell you too much now, but it would be good if we could do your fillings on Wednesday. And then take the rest of the day off. Maybe Thursday too. No...definitely. Can you take two days off?" "Oh sure. I've got a crazy amount of vacation time saved up." "Perfect. I've got you scheduled for 10 AM on the 14th. You don't need any pills for this. I'll give you a valium when you arrive, and have the gas and Oasis ready!" I was smiling. "Sounds great." "I won't keep you, but what's in your head right now?" "Not much right now. I do know that I want to see you again. Just please understand that I want to be with you when I'm awake." "I know. I understand. We will as soon as your appointment is over. OK?" "Great." "Get some sleep...and don't forget to tell your boss you are taking two days off. I'll remind you." I slept so soundly that night -- even though it felt like I had already slept forever. I was pretty much useless at work the next day. Between my brain fog and conflicting thoughts about this new man I loved, it was all I could do to remember to eat lunch. Tuesday was only slightly better. The night before the appointment, I took a pill and dozed off on the couch while some old movie with fake snow played. The phone rang a few times, but I knew it was Mark. Him. My man. Was it love? Maybe. I came to the dental office early. It was nice to see the waiting room full of people. I picked up a random magazine and perused it like I was interested in the material. They needed a TV here. Lois came out... "Vince? You're next. Follow me, please." I could swear she had a slight smirk on her face.I settled into that great chair and waited while she came back with a pill and the CD player. "Take this now...the doctor will be in soon." She fussed around with the tank of happy gas and then left. Lois must know what's what. Whatever...I'd just enjoy the pill and close my eyes. None of that was my problem anymore. Half dreams in shades of blue and gray. Then the mask was over my nose and the headphones were on my ears. "Ready? Just breathe for a few minutes. Oasis is waiting for you." Mark. And Lois, of course. She was right there. One of them hit the play button and cranked the volume way up. I happily opened my mouth and was ready for this. I knew he was shooting some of that numbing stuff into my gums, but it felt fine. No complaints. There was a line in one of the songs playing I'd heard before: "Slip inside the eye of your mind, Don't you know that you might find a better place to play" Nice. I'd meditate on that wisdom for a little while. I'd probably retire in twenty years or so. I would just plan on listening to music while breathing in this gas. Maybe I'd even get a dentist's chair. And live somewhere it never got cold....and have a cat. A big tabby tom. I would be fine. I stayed in that blissful place until the mask was taken off of me and the music was rudely removed from my ears. It was over. Damn. Who the hell even knew what time it was? "OK, buddy. Wake up a little and we're good to go. Lois, go get him a bottle of water, please." He stood right next to me as I opened my eyes. "Look real quick." He pulled his cock out the dress slacks he was wearing and flashed me a quick few seconds. He'd adjusted himself by the time she came back with my water. Cool. I was okay with everything. "Vince? Can you get up? We're done." "It's fine. I can just drive on top of traffic going home. Nobody else will think of it." "Uh oh. Looks like I need to drive you home. Luckily, I'm off the rest of the day.And tomorrow. I'm leaving town. Lois, I'll be in on Friday. Make sure you give Jemma that folder." We were walking out to the parking lot. "You're leaving town?" "Only metaphorically. I'm going to take you to a party now." Oh god. I was afraid he was going to take me to some bar where everybody would be drinking and talking. I didn't want that. There was his beautiful car that he helped me inside of. As I settled into the luxurious seat, it occurred to me that I had been given something stronger than just a valium. We were driving. The trees were bare. "Mark? That wasn't a regular valium you gave me, was it??" "No. But you were awake the whole time. I'm taking steps, Vince. I'm trying." "Lois knows about you?" "Shit. You are too smart, kid. She's the sister of Bill -- your doctor. He's partying with us tonight. You like him, right?" "Yeah. He seems too straight-laced to party. He's like a doctor from a Norman Rockwell painting." Mark chuckled. "This will be fun. We're both going to get what we want." We pulled into his garage and I was strangely more awake than I had been in the last ten minutes. My god - everything was so clean and organized. His life was so neat and tidy. I could hear loud music already. I was almost sure it was New Order. I had that CD. I figured it would be a bunch of people, but no. It was just Bill in his boxer shorts. He was so pale and skinny and hairless. "Hey! How's our patient?" "A little sleepy -- I'm gonna get him some coffee." "No. I'll take a beer though. Hi Doc. My blood pressure is normal now." I looked him over. He was around Mark's age and usually wore glasses. He had red hair which I'd never found attractive until just now. "Good. But you never call. Check the appointment card I gave you last time -- I wrote my home number on the back." Huh? I never even checked the back. I just wrote the date down on my calendar and threw the card away. "Sorry. I didn't know that. You have my number, though." "Definitely." Mark came back with a bottle of beer that was probably expensive. Everything about him was top shelf. "Damn, Bill. You made yourself right at home, didn't you? We're going to ease Vince into this." Ease me into what? That's when I saw the syringe on the coffee table. Fucking hell. "What's in that needle?" They were both silent. "I thought you said he'd be ready to party, Mark." "It's okay, kid. You have two doctors here. Nothing bad will happen." Dr. Bill shook his head slightly. "That wasn't what I asked." I wasn't about to shoot up drugs... "It's like a fun version of vitamin B-12." Bill had an obvious hard-on under his boxers. He was playful and devious. "Take your clothes off." I looked to Mark with questions in my eyes. "I won't let anything bad happen to you, Vince. You believe me don't you?" I mostly did. I just stripped down to my underwear and waited. "Let me change the music to something a little more mellow." Bill went and adjusted the stereo. "He is like my brother and I love him, but he's a little flaky. I'll protect you." I finished the beer and relaxed on the couch. Carol King was singing about clouds in her coffee. What the hell did that mean? "Get him one more beer...I don't want him all nervous for this." "Want another one, Vince? I picked up some diet coke if you'd rather have that...I can mix some Wild Turkey in it." "Sure. Yeah." Bill was sitting next to me, really close. It's funny the weird twists and turns your life can take if you don't pay attention. My doctor and I talked about the music. He loved the 70's tunes which I did not. To me, it was rewarmed 60's until disco showed up. "Turn it down a little, ass. This is not the club." Mark gave me the coke mixed with a generous amount of whatever kind of liquor Wild Turkey was. It killed the carbonation, but I wasn't about to complain. He changed the CD and Madonna started her beautiful, slutty singing. OK. Much better. "Don't be a mom, Mark. He's an adult. Let's start this party! Who's first?" Bill was radiating a hunger. "You. You're eager and I need you to shut up a little." Mark put his hairy arm around me. I don't remember him getting stripped down to his jockey shorts. "Bitch." Bill thumped his inner arm and plunged the syringe into a vein. "See? It's easy. Doesn't even hurt." He was done. I watched his face. He looked happy and relaxed. He didn't pass out or go crazy. "Vince is next. Doctor's orders." OK. He fussed around in his duffel bag and rejoined the 'party'. It felt like Mark was holding me even closer. "It's seriously going to be fine. You'll feel much better soon." Bill sat next to me gently pulled my right arm straight out in front of me. "I am so good at finding veins. Back in college, I could practically find them with my eyes closed." And then the needle pierced my skin with almost no pain. I felt more pressure as he plunged the drug into me. I didn't even ask if it was a new needle or the same one Bill had used. I also never asked what exactly I was taking. Too late now. "How soon do I feel it?" "By the time Mark is dosed, you'll be doing real fine." "But what IS it?" "My own private mix. A little of this, a little of that. Nothing too heavy-duty." I must have missed seeing Mark shoot up because he passed and empty syringe to Bill. So we were all on drugs now. I waited. It wasn't long before I started to cough. It didn't last long, but my heart was racing. Speed? It might have been, but was like a record played at a lower speed. Bill and Mark were both fully naked now and stroking their boners. I was naked too. "Who took off my underwear?" "You did," they answered in unison. I also had an erection. Mark's cock was longer, but Bill's was fatter...the both looked beautiful and I wanted to suck them both at once. And then a dick was in my lips. The grunting voice was Bill's. "Shit! You trained him good, Mark. He's a pro. I'm gonna cum! I should have fucked you first, Vince...but...but I AHH!" A thick lotion-like fluid flooded my mouth and dripped down my throat. None of this was enough...I wanted him to shoot again. "Wow! I've been needing a blow-job like that for months." Mark impatiently prodded his naked meat into the back of my neck. I turned around and gratefully took his shaft all the way. I might have gagged a little, but there was no way I'd let that stop me. I let my fingers wander up and down his furry ass as it thrust. I was born to do this very thing. "Stop. I need to pee really bad. We can continue in a little bit. You probably need something to drink. Want another special coke? I'll get it." I never got a chance to tell him I'd drink his pee too. I really would have. He walked away, with his hard dick bobbing up and down like a toy. The music was something different now. I didn't recognize it, but like it. Mark came back with my "special" coke, and then padded away to use the bathroom. It occurred to me that he might have mixed something else besides booze in it. No worries. "Hey. Take this -- it'll help prolong the fun." He handed me a tiny white pill and I swallowed it with no hesitation. And then he kissed me quickly. "If it doesn't work out with the dentist, you can give me a shot." I wanted to give the whole world a shot right then. I wanted cocks and cum and everything. I wanted the fun to continue, but tried to keep cool. I'd never been so horny in my life. "You leveling off a little, Vince?" He stretched out and I took careful note of how long and lean his legs were. And hairy! Whatever I was on, I followed my instincts with no question. I was sucking on Mark's fat toes before I knew it. He curled and uncurled them while they were in my mouth. "Wow. That feels nice." "You lucky bastard. He's into feet. I haven't had mine touched since I dated Dennis. You got yourself a keeper, buddy." I took the hint and worked on Bill's feet next. I never imagined I'd be doing such things, but I'd lost control. They both had straining hard-ons at that point. "Let's fuck him. He's super horny." Mark took my face in his hands and looked into my eyes. "Are you ready? Can you think now? Bill, you didn't give him anything else, did you? His pupils are super big." "No. I swear." (lie) The next thing I remember was lying in Mark's great bed with nakedness all around me. Arms, legs, hands. My legs were straight up in the air and a pillow was under my ass. Bill's not-quite handsome face was directly over mine. "So I hear your ass is pretty tight. Don't relax too much...I want to drill you so deeply. Like the idea?" I liked anything and everything right then. I wondered if Mark was watching this and having second thoughts about me. I guess I was cheating on him already. I worried up until the point the doctor's dick went directly inside of me. There was an explosion of pain and surreal pleasure. I might have made a noise...no idea. I imagined his dick as a red-hot iron pole poking my guts and destroying everything it touched. He was relentless with the pounding. "Yeah. You are exactly as promised, Vince. Almost time for your reward...it's ...oh shit...TAKE IT!" He came and I could feel the heartbeat in his penis. The deed was done. 'Dammit, Bill. You gave him something. His breathing is way too slow. Vince?" "Just a little party favor. Nothing too strong." "Get out! I'm going to refer him to another doctor...you can't be trusted. Take your shit and leave." There was movement and cussing and arguing. I was alone in bed and thinking this was all my fault. It was fun, and I messed it up. Mark came in and turned on a bright light."Look at me." I thought he was going to yell at me now. "Just give me a minute...I need to sleep now." "OK. Good idea. I'm going to watch you for awhile. Turn on your right side and breathe...deep as you can." So I did. At some point, the room got darker. I was keenly aware that I was being watched, but the dreams came on anyway. Boring dreams of nothing special. The next thing I knew, it was morning. I was all by myself in the big bed. I scanned the shameful memories and cringed. The clothes I was wearing the previous day were right there for me to slip into. I felt so guilty of so many things. I went to the bathroom. I needed to face the Mark Music now. He was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. "Good morning, cutie!" He was in a bathrobe and didn't seem mad at all. "I'm so sorry. I think we overdid it just a little. Or a lot." "No. I'm sorry you had to see me with Bill. I wanted to be with you instead...I just..." "Shhh. Don't think about him. He's on my shit list. Let's eat and then we can do whatever you want. No drugs." We ate and and then stepped outside briefly because I wanted fresh oxygen. I was mostly myself as we had sex in his bed. He was tender but passionate. It didn't take him long to cum the first time. Or the second time. We made love most of the day. He'd given me what I'd wanted. At last.

early 1980's Maybe I was in grade school or junior high when I first read about "The Gay Cancer" that was infecting gay men in New York and Boston. My first thought that is was caused by just thinking too much about sex with men, but that didn't seem likely. Maybe it was like being around kids with chicken pox...you'd get it by being too close to them. A few years later, I'd read enough to know it came from sex. It wasn't cancer -- it was a virus. That was a relief because I knew from way early on that I was gay. I figured it out after sneaking into my older sister's room and reading her "Seventeen" magazines. Every page absorbed me. "Is it Love Or Just a Crush?", "Best Places For a First Date" and "Does He Want You to Make the First Move?". I wanted to be a girl. I wanted a boy to love me. I also wanted to wear lip gloss. But there was no way I could tell anyone. Not now. Not ever. I didn't know the term "in the closet", but I sure as fuck lived in one. I could never even touch a handsome man. I'd lose a bunch of weight and get those bruise things on my face. The visible signs of the disease would show everyone what I was. 1994 So obviously I'd had a celibate life all through my youth and college years. I'd learned to bury the girlishness deep down. I just studied and thought about the future. My future ended up with a pretty good job. I was hired to do research for a big company in a pretty large city. The details are mundane, but the job allowed me free access to the internet, no filters. It was a nice perk. It wasn't long before I decided to get a computer at home too. Other things had changed. Gays seemed to be everywhere and very visible. Marches, protests and parades...all in the name of equality. I was glad that others were "out" because I doubted I'd ever be able to be. There were also more treatments for AIDS, and there were also articles about possible vaccines. Well, good. Nothing was guaranteed or certain, and I was still afraid of sex and of just being gay. The great thing about computers is that you can access the whole world and nobody can see you. I started snooping around the web looking for pictures of naked men. So much content! I wore my dick out, masturbating to nude guys I'd never meet. I also checked out sites 'of gay interest'. It was on one of those places that I found a link to guys who had a boot fetish...interesting. Men would post pics with captions like 'my size 13 doc martens after I came on them'. Wow. It wasn't long before I got deeper into the fetish culture online. Man, people were into so much stuff I'd never even thought about. There was one link with a warning in red letters: Deathculture.net is distasteful, but it exists. It's like watching a car crash.Not endorsed by this site at all. Enter with caution!! I was reminded of being a very young kid and seeing ads for scary movies where they warned that the film may cause you to die of fright. So of course I followed the link, and found it was a site about 'bug-chasing' and 'gift giving'....AIDS fetish. I couldn't imagine such a thing. Or could I? It was mostly just stories about guys into having unprotected sex. I read every single one. "This is twisted", I thought to myself as I jerked off endlessly. This fetish seeped into my brain and made a home there. This was more exciting than the boot thing. There were 11.000 members from all over the world and the site kept growing. There were photos of guys with plus signs tattooed on their stomachs, sickly guys with lesions and such. And then they started showing personal ads. After a few months, men were bolder and more x-rated with their posts. It was on one of the personal ads that I met 'BBPozLarry'. He lived a hundred miles from me and was a 'top gifter'. I didn't contact him, just looked at the photo of his big boner and read his words over -- and over again. Poz stud will impregnate you. 100% guaranteed results. I have a huge viral load and very high sperm count. Can host or travel for willing neg bottoms What would it hurt to just email him? No. I needed to figure out why I was so intrigued. Had I lost my mind? I needed to think. My college friend Darrel was coming to stay with me a couple of days because I'd arranged a job interview for him with my company. Darrel was a small, bookish guy who had a couple of classes with me over the years. He was scary smart and had a dark sense of humor. He's the one who introduced me to John Waters' movies. He'd recently gotten engaged to a girl who looked almost exactly like him. He arrived early on Saturday and it was so good to see him. "Hey Jonah! Thanks for letting me stay over." He dropped his duffel bag and surprised me with a hug. Weird. We'd never even high-fived before. "Were my directions good?" "Of course. Show me around." "Not much to show, pal. This is the living room/bedroom. The futon folds out. The kitchen and bathroom are off that way." "Hmm. It looks like Pee-Wee's Playhouse in here. It needs a woman's touch." He was right of course. This was obviously not where an adult lived. All I had were electronics, big inflatable dinosaurs and various weird stuff. "No offense. Look -- I am wiped-out from the long trip. Do you mind if I take a quick nap on your couch/futon thing? For, like, an hour?" "No, Go right ahead. I have some work to do on the computer. Need anything?" "Nope. I just..I'm so sleepy." He took off his shoes and was asleep almost immediately. I got online and went through my email. Junk, junk, pics of my sister's ugly kid...and something from an address I didn't recognize. The subject was just "Hi!" How are you, dear? You might know me as BBPozLarry. You've checked out my profile almost forty times and thought I'd contact you since you have not ever left a comment or emailed me. Are you scared, shy or confused? I can tell by the age you claim to be, that you're young and probably not experienced. Your stats are nice, but I need to see a face photo. No way! I was just now trying to figure out my motives...and had no digital photos of myself. Darrel was snoring away as I sat in frozen panic. OK. Deep breath. I wasn't aware that people could even see how many times someone had looked at their profile. So much for being invisible on the computer. I had to think now. The only pic of me (that I knew of) was my corporate pic on the company's website. Ir was taken on my first day when I was in a freakin' suit and tie. Could that work? My only option, I guess. I copied it and tried to edit with Windows. I cropped it so you could only see my face. I darkened it a little too so that it didn't look so industrial. Saved it and sent it in a reply to BBPozLarry: Hi. Thanks for the message. Here is my picture. Sorry for not contacting you sooner, but I'm new at everything. Jonah Done. Can't believe what I'd just done. Now I could take a breath and go back to life. But no. He replied right away. Good Boy! Your quick reply tells me a lot! You are so cute, but look like a teenager. Are you busy now? If not, go to my profile and click on the little blue word balloon. We can chat there. I'll be here for a little bit longer tonight. I have stuff to tell you. OK. My guest had been asleep for an hour now, but I had to do this. I found his profile and started a chat with this stranger with active AIDS cum. Hi. Larry? I had stopped breathing for several minutes. Wow. Are you always on the computer, Jonah? Just saying that you are responsive...which is good. What's up? I'm here with a guest sleeping on my couch. Guest or a date? No. He's a friend from school...very straight. I'm trying to help him land a job here in the city. That's nice of you. You seem like a good guy. I'm not a good guy, 'Good' is overrated. What is the stuff you needed to tell me?? You really want my gift, right? Still chasing? Yeah. I think I do. Think?? Well, think fast because the doctor wants me to start taking a new drug that might lower the amount of virus in my system. I wasn't going to take it, but I'm getting symptoms. It's been a great ride. It's a fun bug to get and a really fun bug to give -- but the fun ends when you're sick every day. So if you still want me to fuck you, we'll need to do it in the next thirty days. Take your time to make sure you still want this, but don't take too long. OK? OK. I will let you know soon. Can you send me another photo of you? I'll try. See you later? Yes. My guest is waking up. Gotta go. Darrel looked a little confused as he sat up. "What time is it?" "Almost five o'clock." "Damn! You shouldn't have let me sleep so long. I'm starving! Is it too early to go eat?" "Just a little, but we can go someplace. What are you in the mood for?" "Just something simple. Burgers?" "Perfect. There's a great bar and grill near work. I can show you the building and then have dinner." I really didn't want to drive just now because my mind was in a thousand places. But we went anyway and ate some great bar food. The place wasn't too crowded at this hour. I ordered a pitcher of beer. Darrel seemed shocked. "I've never seen you drink, Jonah!" "I normally don't, but I've got a lot on my mind." "Like what?" "Heavy stuff. Don't you ever wonder why you are the way you are? Why you do things, think things?" "All the time, buddy. My future wife is an amateur therapist and always to know what's going on in my head." "Okay. Did you ever wonder why certain things scare you?" "Well I'm afraid of getting cancer...I saw my grandpa waste away from lung cancer when I was little." "So let's say that you have that fear of cancer, and then one day you decide to start smoking and spending all day in the sun." "As if was self-destructive?" We had emptied the pitcher and I ordered another. "Yes! You think that's what it is?" "I guess. Another way to look at it would be as if I was daring this thing that had worried me so many years to a challenge.. Taking control." Wow. "That's it, Darrel! Well done!" "What? Why? What's in your head?" I needed to change the subject. "Oh, nothing. What are you gonna wear for the interview on Monday?" "Well...I brought some choices. You said 'dressy casual'. You have an iron, right?" "Yeah. I wore a suit at my interview and it looked odd because the managers were in jeans and t-shirts. One guy had on shorts and flip-flops." We discussed other topics and laughed through old memories...and drank more. Darryl is shorter than me and weighs a good twenty pounds less. The alcohol was hitting him pretty hard. I suggested we leave and get some air. It was a nice October night and the breeze smelled like pure oxygen. It revived him, but he was still very buzzed. He stopped to puke once. "Why aren't you drunk, Jonah?" "I guess I'm full of adrenaline right now." He seemed okay with that answer, and we went back to my apartment. I saw my sleeping computer in the corner, and it almost seemed to vibrate with something otherworldly. It was drawing me to it like a magnet. "Can you unfold your futon thing soon? You don't have to put sheets on or anything...I need to crash." "No. I'll make up the bed proper. Everything is washed and fresh. Need something? Aspirin? Or water?" "I guess....hold on. I need the bathroom real quick." I let him barf as I got everything ready. It was only 9:30, but the night had settled in. I lowered the lights and opened my computer screen. Ten new messages! Darrel wandered back into the room and got undressed without saying a word. He just went to sleep like I was hoping he would. I checked the email...junk, junk and then a long stream of messages from BBPoZLarry. 1. Hi Kid! I'm still trying to get you a photo. I'll be on the site to chat if you're home. 2. (picture of him in swim trunks on a beach somewhere) He was a big guy, a little plain maybe. Some body hair and a hefty build. 3. (picture of his face) It seemed like a Christmas photo taken by a relative. He was older than I expected, but still nice-looking. 4. (picture of his thick, soft dick that I'd already seen in his profile) 5. (indistinct porn-looking pic that seemed to be two guys fucking) 6. "Sorry that I can't get you more. I'm not that far away *hint, hint* 7. I guess you're still out with your guest. 8. I want to jack off so bad, but I'm saving the load for you. Hurry and make up your mind! So I did. I decided I wanted this to happen. It was the challenge I wanted. It couldn't happen now because I had company. I wanted him to fuck all my fears away right now, bui I'd wait and get no sleep for many nights, with a boner. I found his profile on the site and clicked the chat link so fast, I thought I'd broke my mouse. Larry? You still here? I just now got home. Hey! It's early for a Saturday night. Bad time or did you just want to rush home and talk to me? lol Not a bad time, really. I got him drunk and he's passed out now. I'm so glad to tell you that I want you to fuck me raw. I'm sure now. Yeah! I wanted to hear that. What made you decide? I want to conquer a fear I've had for so long...a fear of AIDS, sex and being gay. Good Boy! But there's a little more to it, you see? I'm still trying to figure it out. Letting a poz guy fuck you is a high...it's the ultimate sex act for a submissive man (which I think you are). If you allow me to cum inside you, you will remember it forever. Makes sense. I want to do this. When? Next weekend? Does that work for you? Perfect. I'm as viral as hell right now. Want to meet me here or where you are? I'll come to you. Just send me directions and I'll be there at whatever time works best for you. Early! I won't be jacking off and will need relief as soon as possible. Come Friday night if you can. Will do! I can't wait! Cool. I'll call you with directions if you give me your number. I did. I spent Sunday showing Darrel around the city. On Monday morning, I took him to work with me. The interview process was a grueling all-day event. You spent 45 minutes talking to eight different managers around the company. He was nervous, but I knew he'd do well. He was made for this place. Of course Darrel shined and got a job. He had sixty days to move and be ready to start. After he left, I just stayed home every evening. Larry called almost every night and we talked about our lives and histories. His voice was deep and somewhat 'rural'. So much went unspoken, though. We were both planning on the meet-up, but not really discussing anything. He did demand I not cum until Friday night. Friday was approaching fast. For lack of anything else to time, I got a haircut and picked out some new clothes. What in the world do you wear to go get pozzed? I was so antsy. By Friday night, I doubt I'd slept more than an hour at a time. I needed to chill. So bad. That Friday after work, I was a frazzled mess...all nerve endings. I kept having to remind myself why I was doing this. Why it mattered. I told Larry that I'd leave no later than 8 PM. It was 6:10 and I just had to go now. A hundred miles goes by fast when you are thinking of so much. I should have paid attention to every detail of the trip. But I was already in his town...his biggish small town. I messed up the directions a little and circled around until I found his little street. And the address. It was a tidy little ranch house with a nice-sized front yard that been raked recently. It suddenly occurred to me that Larry might be as nervous as I was. But how? He had all the ace cards. The sun was setting fast. What should I do? Wait? Honk? I was frozen. I sat in my car and tried to breathe. I thought about how easily I could just go back home just as the porch light went on. Big ol' Larry walked out on the porch, wearing only a white bathrobe. He was taller and heavier than I had thought. The light caught his bright grin. "Jonah? Wow...you're early. That's a good sign! I just got out of the shower." I suddenly felt very shy. "Yeah. I know. I didn't know how long the trip would take. If you need more time, I can stay in the car or drive around a little while." "What? Does that make any sense?? Get in here now!" I remembered grabbing my keys but not locking the door. I suppose I had "no protection" on my mind just then. I prayed my legs would work...that I wouldn't screw this up. His front room was neat and 'mature' -- not like the goofball kid place I lived in. It smelled like candles in there. "Nice place, Larry." "Thanks. Make yourself at home, Jonah. You look very nice tonight....I had a whole outfit ready too, but you got here so fast. Not complaining. Want some wine? I bought it special for us, for tonight." "Sure." "Great. Settle in on the couch and relax. Take your shoes off." He brought back two very full glasses of red wine which I never even tried before. It was a little sour, but smelled nice. "Thanks. I'm sorry again for getting here so early." "No. Don't apologize again. I told you already that your eagerness is pleasing to me. I'm eager too! Don't be mad, but I have to ask this: You ARE over 18, eight?" "Oh yeah. I turned 24 this past April." "Excellent. Want to watch TV? I don't have cable, but I've got some movies on tape." "Whatever you want." He pressed his remote and immediately some porn was on the screen. Gay porn. There were two guys sixty-nining each other on a gym mat. "This is old. The newer ones have condoms in them, and I'm not down with that." "Wow." It killed me that I didn't have more to say. Everything seemed to be in motion. Larry had opened his robe fully, and was stroking his large, pale boner. I had no idea it would look that big when erect. I could feel its heat, could almost hear his heart throb through the giant vein on top of the shaft. "You can look at if you want." Oh I did. I almost said 'wow' again. Think. "It's beautiful, Larry. All of you is." "Thanks, man. Want to touch it?" My hand was already reaching before he asked. I cupped his egg-sized right ball, remembering what he'd said about building up a big load for me. "Want to kiss it? I bet you do." He was right. I bent down and brushed my lips across the head of his aching dick. He pushed me away. "No more until you get naked." Some guy in the movie was just saying 'fuck' over and over again. I took off everything as instructed. I felt stupid, but I wanted to suck on that huge cock. Maybe he'd shoot that saved cum in my mouth.... "You follow directions very well, Jonah. Kiss it just a little more, but I'm already about to shoot. A few more times in your mouth and then we're going to the bedroom." OK. I savored those last couple of kisses to that enormous head. He made me stop and pulled me off the couch. "Let's get you what you need, Kid." His bedroom was dark and I just followed as his big hand grabbed my wrist and flopped me on the soft bed. "I'm going to turn the hall light on so I can see your face when I change you forever." "Yeah. Keep saying stuff like that...." "I'm a talker during sex. Get ready. Try to relax. I've got some cream that will numb your ass a little." "No. No drugs. I want to remember this...every sensation." "Typical virgin. You have no idea what you're in for. OK, but I use this as lube...so you'll get some effect from it. Trust me -- you'll be thankful for it." "Just keep talking...and I'll be fine." He pressed his massive body down on top of me, and put my ankles over his shoulders. I remembered his need and his virus. The tip of dick teased my ass hole. "I'm about to give you the best sex in your life....relax. I seldom start slow, but you're special. Here's just the head." I felt like a knife was slicing me open. Holy Hell! "No! Let's stop for now. Please!" "I'm going in until my balls touch your ass. Hold your breath. " He plunged in so fast that my breathing stopped. I yelled loudly. "The worst is over now. I've ripped you apart inside and my cum will directly into you bloody ass. Enjoy it as much as you can....try." I did. I'd gone to him willingly. The idea of him getting me pregnant was almost enough to help me fight this pain. His heavy balls slapped my bare butt...over and over. He held still for a second and grabbed my chin in his hand. "Yeah...you're loosening up for me, babe. You like it now?" My whole being was melting rapidly. "answer me!" "I love it. Seed me. Give me AIDS!" He grabbed my face with more force and started pumping with more intensity. "Not giving you AIDS, baby. Just the starter kit. Look at me! Look into my eyes!" His gaze was so intense as he made one final push. It had happened. His built-up sperm load was now a part of me now. Larry was breathing heavy and sweating. "We did it!!!" "Thank you. What time is it?" "Not even 10 yet. Why?" I needed time alone. I needed to be in my own bed and just not be here now. "You are great, Larry. I enjoyed tonight, but I should go. I have so much to do tomorrow." "That disappoints me, Jonah. I was hoping you'd stay the whole weekend. But okay. Let's go into the living room and you can put your clothes on. Can you walk?" I thought I probably could. The core of my being was shredded, but I'd survived. I felt weakened, and I knew there was blood and cum dripping down my legs. No problem...I'd just take a long, hot bath when I got home. Isn't it funny how a sex fantasy comes true and all you want is to be done with it? I'd call Larry tomorrow. I wanted to see him again. "Give me a second. I think I bled on your sheets." "I already knew that. Come out here...I need your help with something." Huh? I was no help to anyone right now. I walked into the front room and saw the naked big man standing over my discarded shoes and clothes. "I have a back spasm. Can you go to the kitchen and get me a glass of wine? That seems to help most times." "Sorry. I'll get it." I went to the kitchen and filled a glass with wine. Then I heard a sound that sounded like a wet slap. I walked in to see Larry pissing all over my clothes. WHAT?? What the hell?!!! "Oops. Your clothes are stinking and wet now. I'll try to laundry tomorrow. Guess you have to spend the night." His big limp dick let a few more drops fall as I stared in disbelief. I grinned at Larry and shrugged my shoulders. We did so much that weekend...things I'd only heard of. I was completed by this man. The man who gifted me.