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Don't Talk to Hot Strangers


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The Summer of 1992 was a personal low point for me. I'm not here looking for sympathy here, so I'll just report that I'd lost my job and was about to lose my mom. I was also broke as hell. I had to sell my car just to pay rent and survive. My mom had bone cancer and it was fast overtaking her. She'd chosen to die at home -- which was about four hours from where I lived.  My older sister, in a rare moment of compassion, bought me a train ticket to my hometown to say see her one last time. She also sent me a hundred bucks which I immediately spent on booze. I'd developed a fondness for beer and decided that was more vital to my mental stability than a paid phone bill. 

It was a tragically nice day in July when I headed to the train station. I didn't bring much with me -- just a few changes of clothes, a book I'd been reading, cigarettes,  and about ten cans of beer. Also the $80.00 I had left. Maybe train stations were nice places at one point in history, but not anymore. It was like a giant room filled with the same people you'd see waiting at a bus stop...only they were carrying black garbage bags filled with their belongings.  I had a fairly nice duffel bag, but was in no place to judge. We were all among the defeated. 

I was way too early because it was my constant big fear in life that I'd  be late for something. So I had almost two hours to kill. I found a mostly empty row of seats and dug out my book. Lots of people departed and the lounge was getting emptier every few minutes. I was deep in the middle of the novel when some guy sat down right next to me. What the fuck? There were plenty of other places to sit. He smelled a little sweaty and a lot like smoke. I concentrated harder on the pages, but this dude decided to strike up a conversation. He asked things like "what's your name?" and "where're you headed?" instead of making comments that I just grunt a reply to. I gave up reading and put the book back in my bag. 

"Nice bag. Is that a Reebok?"

"No. Nike. My name is Arnie and I'm headed to Norton...to the South of here".

I suddenly thought of Mom. She always said 'Don't talk to strangers.' It was by-the-book parenting, I suppose. 'Don't ever take rides or candy from strangers.' It was in no way helpful to a non-idiot child, but I still loved the old gal and would miss her very much when she was gone.

I finally looked right at the pest. He was a few years older than me, dirty blonde hair, mustache and dull beard. I'd only recently admitted to myself that I liked looking at men more than I liked looking at women. I thought he was pretty handsome. For whatever reason, I thought guys were hotter with beards but I always tried to picture them clean-shaven. Would I still find them attractive? 

"I'm Mike. I'm going to Revitt City to look for a job. I think Norton is on my stop. Any work there?"

"In grain elevators or the railroad maybe".

"I can do anything. I can sell Cadillacs even".

I looked at him a little more. He was very tall and thin, but with a slight gut.  He was wearing a Cubs t-shirt and the most worn out jeans ever. On his over-sized feet, he had on sneakers without socks. I decided Mike was worth getting to know. We had a little over an hour to kill. Book forgotten.

We talked for a bit. I told him about the reason for my trip and he told me about fleeing from bill collectors and people 'hassling' him in general.

"I owe so much money to the hospital. I hope that Clinton guy gets elected so I can get some free medicine at least".

"What kind of medicine?"

"Lots. Hey I saw some beers in your bad when you put your book away. Want to split one now?"

"Here??"

He grabbed a newspaper from a nearby chair and unfolded it fully open, "We can hide it".

I pulled out a can and we shared sips of brew under the guise of giving a shit about current events. 

We shared another and another and pretty soon it was time for our departure. I have to say that the inside of the train was cleaner and nicer than the station. Mike and I plopped down in empty seats right in front of a huge window.  The landscape would be boring, but at least we had something to look at. I felt like taking a nap.

"Hey, Arnie. Do they got a smoking section on this thing? I'm craving one after those beers of yours".

We poked around and found that they had a smoking car. We found it and went inside, feeling the tracks speeding by beneath us. It smelled bad and was too brightly lit. We sat down and smoked greedily. He kept talking and I hunched over and looked straight down at the floor. I kept sneaking peeks at his big feet. Maybe I had more preferences than I wanted to admit. I thought I was being casual, but Mike knew where my eyes were going, He started prying his bare feet out of those old sneakers and resting his soles on top of them.

"I'm always barefoot, you know? Most of my shoes are secondhand and never fit very well. You can touch them if you want".

"Not here".

"Gotcha, Arnie. Lets go back to our seats". We did.

We had practically the whole car to ourselves. The seats swiveled and he stretched out his long legs on my lap. I puled off his shoes again and massaged those feet with all kinds of pent-up passion. Next thing I knew he was sporting a little fat boner poking out of his jeans.

"Better stop now. Let's save it for our stop...it's not far now."

"OUR stop? I thought you were going to Revitt City?"

'Not anymore. Not now. Now close your eyes and get a snooze in".

He left those bare feet up against my torso, but I was still able to relax and nod off".

I was out.

And then there were dings and the lights that went up. We were in Norton. By the time I collected myself, Mike had his shoes back on was holding his grubby little gym bag of stuff.  It was almost dark outside and I could smell a storm coming. Thunder. Mike left with me. I had no idea what to do with him now that I was the "host". My mom's house was only five blocks away, and no way could I take him there. I'd have to figure something out soon. We passed the park outside of the city library. It was a regular park with one interesting feature: a really old locomotive engine from, like, the 1800's or something. I tried to tell Mike about why there was a big-ass train in a park, but he suddenly pulled me to the ground. I dropped my bag as he pawed at me like an animal. 

"I need to fuck you, little Arnie."

He was on top of me groaning and humping. 

I tried to figure out a way out of this.

"But I've got bad news and even worse news and then really bad news". He stripped down to nothing  His fat little dick was bobbing in front of him.

"You can undress yourself or I can do it for you. Decide in three seconds."

I stripped down too. I think I wanted this.

He covered me with his sweaty heat and started talking right into my right ear.

'The bad news is that I don't have lube with me. The worse news is that I don't have condoms. Worst of all possible news is that I have AIDS".

I was stunned, but not enough to freak out. Or was I?

Then he pushed that chubby prick into me fast. I tried to yell out but his bearded mouth covered mine. He kept going. And going. I felt a few rain drops on my head and saw flashes of lightning. I dared to reach around and hold his bare ass as it pumped up and down into me at a really fast pace.  I was on a fast track to a deadly disease. And then the stormy evening sky really opened up and drenched our naked bodies as he kept fucking me. Through the noisy downpour I heard him shout,"Here it is, kid!" He was finished and was eager to find his clothes and some shelter.

"Your ass is bleeding like hell. Stand in the rain a bit".

I did for a few seconds but then put on my wet clothes and made a made a quick dash all the rest of the way to Mom's house. The hospice nurse let me in and then went back to sitting with her patient. I showered and went right to bed. I'd go be with my mom for a while in the morning and then try to find Mike. I sat with my mother for a bit, but she slept most of the time. I held her hand and admitted so much to her. I kissed her forehead and left. Mike wasn't in the park anywhere -- nor was he in the library. 

That was it. Mom died 32 hours later and I had a disease. 

Like I said, it was a low point for me.

 

 

 

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  • 4 months later...

What a sad but loving story. It truly shows your diversity Toon!! Arnie needed Mike in so many different ways that he was a miracle practically. What he did for Arnie was give him a temporary relief but also a lasting gift, a reminder of how sweet life is and how we should not take it lightly, but with gusto! Beautiful!

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