Pulling Out

[Toon]

This is based in part on an actual experience.

1992

You may not know a lot about yourself, (as I don't), but you probably know about your ability to trust.  If you grew up in an idyllic small town like I did, you were set up to ultimately have your trust betrayed.  I was one of those kids who could go to the park by myself and accept cookies from kindly, old neighbor ladies without a worry.  I flourished in that safe environment, then I grew up and went away to school in a big city and got harsh lessons about people:  they lie and cheat.  Looking back at my early years, I recall a time when I thought adults never lied -- only kids. 

I got a degree and landed in a pretty big city with a decent job.  I was still pretty much a hayseed with no real life experience.  I didn't admit to myself that I was gay until the age of 25, but that's all I could do.  I lived in an area with a lot of gay bars.  They were pretty easy to spot by even the biggest novice. No way could I imagine myself going into one of them.  I imagined orgies and chains and leather and could not picture myself going in.  Problem was -- I was horny as hell.  Late puberty, maybe?  But I was ready to go and finally lose my virginity...somehow.

There was one of those alternative newspapers around at the time, and it had pages and pages of "men seeking men" classified ads.  I pored over each one and even circled a few, but then what?  I couldn't see myself actually contacting any of the guys.  It would be easier for me to compose an ad and see if anyone would approach me.  I did a lot of thinking and writing and rewriting, and came-up with this advertisement.

GWM, 25, 5'11", 170. New to everything. I seek a masculine man who enjoys "Kids in the Hall", zombie movies, pinball, talking -- and  is not into the whole gay scene. I'm closeted and discreet. 

The as was published a week later.  I didn't go near my phone for days and let my answering machine do all the work.  After three days, my machine was full.  I rarely drank, but had to have a few beers as I listened to all of them. As shallow as it sounds, I judged first by the voice.  If the guy sounded really gay, I'd delete the message.  And then I narrowed it down by age and stats.  After the week was over, I had a list of exactly three guys who I ranked 1,2,3.  The first two guys were both busts.  They'd either lied about their age, height, weight or all the above.  It was awkward and horrible.  The third was the last chance.

His voice was deep and manly, and as it turned-out he was a bit shorter than me. He seemed kind of bland, though.  We met up at a straight bar where they had awesome burgers and pinball machines.  I didn't even dress up, really.  I wore a black sweatshirt and a pair of old jeans that were probably a size too small -- but they made my butt look nice.  We talked on the phone about an hour ahead and I told me what I'd be wearing.  He wasn't sure what he'd be wearing yet, but said he's know me for sure -- especially if I was at a pinball machine.  Okay.

I got to the bar a bit earlier than the hour on which we had agreed.  The bar was more or less empty, except for a softball team celebrating a victory.  Getting myself a beer, I parked myself at a pinball game I'd always loved.  I was deep into the beer and well on my way to the high score, when I heard a familiar deep voice right behind me.

"Tommy?"

I let the game ball drop between the flippers and turned around where I found my date, Joe.

He hadn't lied about himself at all. He was about 6'1", solid, and blonde. I 've never had a thing for blondes -- give me a dark, swarthy Latin anytime, but he was decently handsome, and we shook hands. 

"Awfully tight jeans you're wearing, Tommy.  Lucky for you I'm a butt man."

I didn't have a response to that, so I gave a smile and suggested we sit at an empty table and get him a beer.  It wasn't too long after we sat own that he starting with the small talk. We both talked about how weird we felt.

"Is the first personal ad you've answered, Joe?"

'"Not hardly. You're like my tenth. What about you?"

"You're my third one. The first two were not good."

"I decided this one would be my last.  You're actually cute, which is a big surprise. Most of the others were some form of sea creature, I swear."

I thanked him for the compliment and told I likewise thought he was handsome.

We drank more beer and chatted about various things. He ordered a shot with each beer and got drunker than I was.

"I'll tell you now -- I'm divorced. I was married once and we almost had a kid, but she decided to get it aborted. I also shave my balls."

I don't know where this tidal wave of confession was coming from, but I didn't say a word.

"Probably the biggest thing you need to know is that I'm HIV positive. You can run right now if you want. I'll pay the tab."

I stayed in my chair, stunned and confused.

"H-How long?"

"About a year.  A couple of buddies of mine wanted to make a video of us fucking.  I have a pretty big dick and they thought it would get them into the business.  We all did a bunch of coke and fucked each other.  A month later, I tested positive. What are you thinking?"

"I'm sorry.  It must be awful."

"Not at all. I mean, I feel stupid for agreeing to it, but I feel fine.  I'm just lonely."

We sat, sipping our drinks. 

"Want to go somewhere else?" I asked.

"Yeah. Your place. That Okay?"

Well, we ended up having sex that night because he promised it would be safe.  He would pull out before he came, which sounded sensible (at the time).  He really did have a big dick and I couldn't wait to get my lips on it.  I blew him while he lied on his back, moaning and thrusting his hips upward.

"I can't wear a condom.  Latex allergy.  But I swear I won't cum inside you.  You ever done this before?"

"No."

"Well, this won't go too easy, but let's give it a try."

We tried.  No way could I take it.  The pain was too much.

The next night we met at his place.  No time was wasted on drinks or small talk, he just pulled me to the bedroom and we stripped.  He'd purchased some lube and started greasing up his big red hard-on. 

"On your back or on your stomach.  Your choice."

I wanted to be on my back so I could look at his face while he fucked. Then maybe I could tell if he was getting close and alert him to pull out.

It began. Slowly, but I could feel the impatience in his hips.  He kept pushing and sweating and groaning. Yes, it hurt, but I wasn't going to chicken-out a second time, so I relaxed as much as I could distracted myself by watching his grimacing face.  His eyes were squeezed tight, and suddenly I felt good down there.  I was even hard.  I didn't want this feeling to ever end.  His hips were moving faster and faster.  I knew by the pacing and his face that he was ready to shoot.

"I gotta pull out now, Tommy."

But I wouldn't let him.  I reached around  and held his round butt tight.

"No.  Keep going!"

"I can't....wait.  I'm shooting in you now!!!"

And then were still and silent. 

"You're a fucking idiot, sweetheart."

He lowered himself back onto the bed and rested.  I needed the bathroom badly.  I'd suddenly regretted what had happened and wondered if I could squeeze it back out of me into the toilet.  Nope.  There were a few obscene swirls of blood, but no semen.  Once I was done, I opened up his medicine cabinet and saw a whole line of prescriptions.  I didn't recognize most of the names.

"Come back to bed!"

I did.  He was apparently exhausted as he almost immediately fell asleep, while I found myself staring at the ceiling as I replayed the experience in my memory.

The thing about trust is you never consider that the one person you really shouldn't trust is yourself.  Your judgement is all you have.  I betrayed it.

 

 

 

 

[Mvillebottom]

Very hot.  I just might've done the same thing and not let him pull out