Work Left to Do

[Toon]

I hope everyone reading this is doing well...in all ways. Physically, mentally. I also hope you never think about killing yourself. Once you consider suicide as an option, that idea never goes away -- it stays there in your brain always, festering and waiting to claim you.

2002

It had been a very year for me. I'd lost both parents in the span of six months. I was an orphan at the age of 30. My older sister and I were not close. I hated my job so, so much. I worked for a software company and always felt inept at it. I didn't like the 'dudes' in my department. They talked sports and tits and cars, while I had nothing to add to any of those topics of conversation. I just existed. Before I get too far into this pity party, I'll tell you that I did indeed try to get help. My employer offered three free sessions with a mental health professional of my choice. I gave it a shot. The first doc immediately put me on Zoloft after only talking to me for twenty minutes. I started taking it right away because she'd said that it works quickly for the people who need it the most. I had crazy nightmares, but never felt any happier. I went to a therapist  who worked out of her beautiful house that always smelled like incense. She was a stylish hippy who had candles and crystals all over the place. You know the type.

She listened to me talk about my unhappiness for 50 minutes while she took notes. She interrupted me a few times to ask questions...and also remind me to breathe. Breath was a big deal for her. It was her assessment that I was in too big a hurry to be born. ?? I guess she meant that my soul had cut in line to make it to this "earthly plane". Dear God. Seriously? During the next session, I told her I had nothing else to talk about and just wanted to die.

"Suicide? Are you talking about suicide? If you kill yourself now, you'll have so much work left to do at the next level." Ugh. Whatever. I was so done with this shit. My little foray into therapy was over.

My best friend in the world was my big, black cat "Knuckles". He was tough-looking, but very affectionate. I'd miss him. An old neighbor lady was also sort of my friend. Delia. She was our block's eye and ears and knew everything that went on. Knuckles loved her because she always smelled like cooking when she'd come over with brownies or fresh bread. I'd give my cat to her...yes. She had two cats already and Knuckles would be the boss. That's pretty much all I had to take care of before dying. I'd read enough about suicide to know that the way you slit your wrists was to drag a knife lengthwise in a bathtub full of warm water. The only part of that that concerned me was the condition my body would be found in. I'd be discovered in a pool of cold corpse soup. Gross. I sure didn't want that picture in my head. No. I'd just do it my own bed. I didn't cut deep enough. I just stained my sheets and mattress with blood...and got some wicked scars to show for my efforts. Another failure to add to my long list.

I missed Knuckles, but Delia assured me he was loving it over at her place. "He is the man of the house! Why are such dark circles under your eyes?? Better go get a flu shot. Winter is coming...and it's supposed to be a bad one this year." She kept bringing over food because she said I was too skinny. And then the holiday season was upon us. Fucking hell. The last incentive I had to stick around was gone. This ghastly season of mirth was something I just couldn't bare. 

Delia was right...the Winter moved in early and harsh. It got below freezing almost every night. I'd read that about a dozen homeless people in my city died of "exposure" . Hypothermia. Would that be such a bad way to die? I'd been cold before. Really cold. That's it! I'd just go outside and freeze to death. No stains or scars from that, right? It was a decision. The news said we were in for record-breaking temperatures along with snow. I remember my dad saying "it's just too cold to snow." I guess that was another one of those Farmer's Almanac myths that wasn't true. I'd taken a week of vacation and gave Delia a bottle of wine as an early Christmas present. And then I felt the excitement of adventure. I decided not to make a ceremony of the evening. I'd just do normal stuff and then walk out into the cold.

I couldn't handle TV right now. The holiday commercials just made me angry. I watched "A League of Their Own" on DVD. And I drank booze. People think that imbibing alcohol warms you up, but it's a trick. You might feel warm, but you're actually more vulnerable to cold temps. There wasn't much traffic on my street. It was already at ten below zero outside. I'd already planned on what I what I'd wear. Jeans (with my I.D. in my back pocket), a loose shirt and ball cap. I took a coat because somebody might see me walking around under-dressed and call the cops or something. This was a weird neighborhood...mostly retired people like Delia. I don't even know how late it was, but almost none of the houses had lights on. A few places had Christmas lights up. Damn...it was supernaturally cold and there were already a few inches of fresh snow on the ground. When did that happen? Tonight?

You know when people say 'chilled to the bone'? I knew what they meant now. My bones were cold, and it didn't help that I had almost no body fat. A few blocks away was a little cemetery surrounded by an iron fence. It was old and there was no more room for new tenants. I walked among the stones and thought about watches. My dad was buried with his beloved pocket watch...was it still ticking? I wondered if any watches beneath my steps were still keeping time. Probably none. I was feeling so tired. I needed to stop and rest. This was it. My final stop. The snow made a nice pillow, and I remembered to remove my cap. You really do lose a lot of heat from your head because the brain stakes all the claim to your personal temps. And then your major organs stake their claim, leaving your extremities bloodless and frostbitten. Oh whatever.

The snow clouds had obviously passed because the stars were bright and doing their twinkling thing. I'd read that you start feeling very warm when you're about to freeze to death. It was time. I unzipped my coat and waited. It was hard to see the stars...maybe my eyeballs were icing over. OK. Probably too late to back out now. I might have slept a little after the promised heat embraced me. Good-bye.

"Hey! HEY!" Somebody with a deep voice was interrupting this. They'd go away if I kept my eyes closed. 

"Not now, Knuckles."

"What? You're going to die out here! Get up." I was listening to all the ticking watches underground. "Okay. I'll just carry you. Damn, you weigh almost nothing."

Knuckles had become a human and had come to take me out of the cold. He was warm and I stroked his fur with my numb hands. I'd missed him so much. And then were out of the cold. Somewhere new. Was this where Knuckles lived now? It'd be nice to sleep next to my cat again.

I woke up a little and felt burning on my face, ears and fingertips. A large bearded man with black hair was holding me underneath a smelly blanket. His body gave off all the heat my body and craved. I didn't know who he was, but he his snores were almost musical. Where was I? It was a concrete basement with a few fluorescent ceiling lights. There was a large standing freezer with some plastic bottles of water on top. I was thirsty and moved to get up. "Where you going?" He'd woken up so fast. 

"I needed a drink of water. Where am I?"

"Those bottles are full of melted snow. Help yourself." I did. "We're in the basement of 'China Don's'...on 75th street. A buddy of mine will wash dishes here when it opens in a few weeks. There's no heat, but it's not so bad. Out of the weather at least. Where did you think you were?"

"Purgatory."

"Sit back down and explain yourself." He was a mountain of a man. I hesitated to approach him for a second. I sensed he was good, but maybe my brain was still frozen. I knelt down on the pile of blankets and tried to think of what to say.

"My name is Terry...I was out for a walk."

"On the coldest night of the year? Are you mental? Be straight with me, Terry."

"It's embarrassing. I guess...well, I was ready to die. I guess." He thought for a few seconds and then shook his head.

"I not only saved your life -- I saved from an eternity in Hell."

"I don't believe in hell."

"It's there whether you believe it or not. Judging from your clothes and hair, you haven't been homeless very long. Right?"

"I'm not homeless."

"What?! You have a place to live? With heat and running water and a bed???"

I felt like a complete moron. "Yeah. I've got a house about ten blocks from here."

"What happened? Why? Never mind. Let's go there now. Please?" Well, I owed him. I wasn't too sure I could walk very well. I'd really done a number on my body with this 'attempt'. We climbed out of the restaurant's upstairs windows and it was still so cold. 

"How long have you been out on the street? Also -- what's your name?"

"I go by 'West'. I've been homeless since May. It all started when my wife accused me of raping her. Can you believe that shit? How can you rape the woman you're married to? We were both naked and in bed. She threw me out, called the cops and everything." 

"Wow. I'm sorry, West. Did you have any kids?"

"Nah. She never trusted me because I kept cheating on her...with hookers. It was an addiction. I liked to do all kinds of stuff she would never do for me. I am wild in bed, and fuck hard. Hookers don't care what you do as long as you pay for it."

"Wow." That's all I could say. 

"That ain't even the worst of it. Once I ran out of money, I was always finding places in the shadows to jack off, and that's when some gay wandered over and offered to suck my dick! He took my cum..and hookers never did that. He even gave me fifty bucks afterwards. That's when I started fucking guys exclusively -- they never cared how violently I gave them my big dick. I would tear them apart and they'd still want more. Ever been with a fag, Terry?"

"No. I am a fag too." The censor in my brain must have frozen to death. I'd never admitted my secret to anyone.

"That why you wanted to kill yourself? I'm sorry for saying 'fag' That was rude."

"It's okay, West. I try to hide it as much I can."

"I'm sorry again. I met one rich old gay man who paid me really well for fucking him. He sucked me all the time too. I sometimes slept at his fancy condo and he'd give me money, food and cigars. But he wanted to fuck my asshole, which I could never even imagine.  It wasn't so bad and he paid me well each time..I miss those cigars, but I still have the last one he gave me."

"The last?"

"Yeah. He was always coughing and sick. He just vanished one day." 

"Think he had AIDS?"

"Who knows? Is your house close?"

"Yes. This is my street." Delia's lights were all out. At least she wouldn't see me bring home some giant man in the middle of the night. 

"I left it unlocked...which is good because I don't think my hands can find my keys now." We blustered in and let the warmth cover us. West looked around. 

"Show me around." He peeled off his coat and at everything like he was videotaping it with his brain. I turned on a few lamps.

 

"Wow! It's like Bermuda in here, Terry!" I's forgotten that I turned heat way up before I left. I figured I'd never pay another bill, and my next of kin would owe the power company. My sister and her rich husband would have to take care of it.

"I can turn it down."

"No. Not yet. Your TV is huge! I miss watching hockey. I used to play it when I was a kid. I had to quit when I couldn't find skates in my size." I showed around my little house. My kitchen was tiny. Delia always called it my 'one butt kitchen' because it wasn't big enough for two people to cook. The messiest room was my 'office' where I kept my computer and drawing table. There were a lot of empty cardboard boxes too. Both of my parents had gone through the depression and hated throwing things away... I guess it was genetic. I almost explained all this to West, but I was unbelievably tired all the sudden. West was very close to me as I gave the tour. I could smell his strong body odor. 

"This is the spare bedroom." It just had a twin bed and a floor lamp. 

"Show me where you sleep, Terry." My bedroom was pretty plush. I'd spent a fortune on the mattress and bedding because I had always had trouble sleeping. It was a queen-sized bed that Knuckles and I had shared for several years. God, I missed that cat. 

"Only room left is the bathroom."

"Yes. I need to use that now...if you don't mind." I showed him the room and West immediately pulled out his fat dick and started pissing in the toilet. "Ah. That's better. Can I take a shower too?"

"Absolutely. I'll get you a fresh towel."

"I need some other stuff too. Any chance you could give me a toothbrush, a razor, nail clippers and some deodorant?" Yeah. I had all that stuff in the hall closet. 

"Want me to wash your clothes?"

"Well....not when I am in the shower, Why don't you rest now...I need a good long, hot shower. Go lie down. We're going to have a party to celebrate you still being alive." He said all that as he removed his grimy clothes. He was naked and probably noticed that my eyes were all over him. His dick was very big, but looked average-sized on his huge, hairy body. 

"The toothbrush is new and the towel is clean. Go ahead." I picked up his clothes and shoes and went to put them on top of the washing machine.  His boots were very worn and comically big. I found that I didn't mind the smell all that much. The warmth of the house had activated the odor. I really needed to lie down now. I'd made my bed this morning -- habit. It was so warm that I just napped on top of the covers, listening to the shower running. Waterfalls. I slept deeper than I thought I would, and emerged from the dreams a little when I heard the shower shut off. I was finally awake enough to listen as he brushed his teeth. For a long time. I took way too much for granted. As I was getting up off the bed, West walked into my room.

"Hey! Did you get a little siesta? Damn! You have great water power here. I'm guessing you don't have any clothes that would fit me. I don't mind being naked if it doesn't bother you."

"It doesn't bother me." I might have said that too fast. "I think I have a robe my mom gave me that's too big for me. Hold on." It was huge, but West could barely get it over his shoulders. 

"Sorry."

"No problem. Let's get the party started! Wake up! Come be a host, Terry. We're celebrating your life now." OK. Yeah. Sure. I was strangely glad to still be alive.

"Want music or TV?"

"Both! Got any booze?" I had more wine, but just one and a half bottles.  He was probably hungry too. All I had was microwave popcorn. I put it in and went to turn on the TV. I plugged my ipod into the stereo and then I was out of chores. I brought him a glass of wine and settled next to him.  

"Want a different channel? Different music?"

"No. Are these your top songs in order? Your favorites?"

"No. It's on 'random' now.'' 

"The songs are happy...but you aren't a happy man. I don't get it." He'd put his huge bare feet up on the coffee table and had his hands on his crotch. He might have an itch...or was working his dick into a hard-on. He was making himself right at home.

"I can wash your clothes now."

"Not in the middle of a party! I can wash them myself tomorrow. Do you work?"

"Yeah, but I'm on vacation for the next five days."

"Vacation? Like a paid vacation? You have a job that gives you paid vacations?" Um. I guess I did.

"I hate my work. Hated it from the first day." 

"But they pay you enough to afford this nice house and awesome TV...not to mention heat and running water." I had to admit that he was right. 

"Want another glass of wine, West?"

"Wine, yes. Glass, no....just bring the bottle. I still can't get over how good the warmth feels!" He was stroking a huge boner. I went to get the other bottle with a homeless man's big dick in my brain. I was never good at working a corkscrew. Shit. I managed to get the cork out somehow. By the time I came back to the living room, he was beating off vigorously.

"Need a minute? I can leave you alone to finish." He stopped and let his hard dick rest against his stomach.

"Sorry. I just feel so horny right now. I haven't been fully nude in a long time." We passed the bottle back and forth. My own sips were small, but his were lusty and long. His erection didn't diminish.

"Want me to see if I can find a hockey game? I've got, like, three or four sports channels."

"Nah. It's almost four in the morning. There won't be anything on...just football talk shows. Why don't you move closer to me? Is this scaring you?" He grabbed his cock and looked directly into my eyes. I got up and sat right next to him. 

"No. It's beautiful." Did I really say that? He ran his thick fingers through my hair.

"Beautiful? Really? Think you could suck on it?" I could. Absolutely. I was going to hesitate, but his hand was on the back of my head, moving my face to his lap. I went with it, operating on pure instinct. West was cut, but there was a nice amount of skin at the base of his wide head that I was now tasting. Soap. He had the flavor of soap. I was amazed at how much I liked having a dick in my mouth. My own penis was fully hard in an instant. His hand kept pressing me downward, forcing me to put more of it in my mouth. He'd hit some spot in my throat that made me gag. 

"Sorry. It feels so good, Terry. Don't stop." I could handle about half of it, and just did what I could. He'd put his feet on the floor and was using his hip muscles to thrust upwards. He tried not to hit my gag spot, but couldn't help but try to go deeper down my throat. I felt the wine in my stomach want to come back up. I fought it and took as much of him as I could. "Oh. Yeah. I'm almost there. Swallow it please! Will you?" Oh, I would. "YEAH...Here you go!!!" I felt the organ throb violently between my lips. Thick, squirting semen spread over the taste buds on my tongue. I'd remember it for the rest of my life. Man Seed. 

"Wow. I don't remember a better blow job." He removed his dick from my mouth and wiped the slime and last drops in my hair. "Holy shit. Drink more wine, Terry. I don't want to taste own dick in your mouth when we kiss. Yes...we're going to kiss." Kiss? Really? Kiss a man? I picked up the wine bottle and reluctantly washed his cum away. "This is such a comfortable couch."

"Want to sleep here? I can get you a blanket and some pillows."

"No. We're going to sleep in your big bed after we finish the wine. What it is this song? It's SO you!" It was called 'All I Am' by a forgotten band  -- Dada. I nodded and glugged more wine. Would he want to do more in bed? Was I ready? He said he he was 'wild' when it came to sex. He'd raped his wife. He might have AIDS. 

"Let me turn off everything first."

"Not the music. It's so perfect." Naked West stood up and went to my room while I shut off the TV. I took my time as I thought about some stuff. He wanted to kiss. And fuck? Like, in my butt? I had nothing left to do but go lay down in bed. He was naked on top of the bedspread. 

"You can maybe turn your heat down a little. And then I need a favor." I turned down the heat to 70 -- which is what I usually kept it on. OK. Deep breath.

"It'll cool down more. This is a drafty house." 

"Fine. I actually need you to do two things. First -- take off all of your clothes. I want to see you." I did. My fingertips were still a little sore. We were now two nude males in a bedroom. "And -- I know this a lot to ask, but can you go get the clippers from your bathroom sink and trim my toenails? It's hard for guys my size to bend that way. You don't have to."

"I'll do it, West." I had a toenail clipper in my dresser drawer. It's a weird chore humans have to do every so often. I knelt at the foot of the bed and went to work. His feet had hard, yellowish callouses, but weren't in such bad shape. I did as requested, my job. I clipped his toe claws as he drifted off to sleep. He needed care. I needed to care of him. I finished up and watched him sleep with my his toenail clippings in the palm of my left hand. Those snores I'd heard earlier resumed. How long ago was that? 

Well, I guess the kiss was delayed for now, ass well as the sex -- if he'd even wanted any. I carefully got into bed beside him, pulled up the covers and closed my eyes even though I'd left the light on. At one point, I woke up with his big, furry arm wrapped around me. His famous boner was poking me in the thigh. Still snoring. I was also aware the light of dawn was beginning to make it's pale blue presence known behind the blinds. I also a tiny tuft of my cat's hair drift though the air. God, that animals shed a lot. A hundred years from now, there'd still be traces of him in this house. I thought of Knuckles as I went back to sleep.

"Good morning!!...well, technically it's still morning." It took me a minute to become fully awake and remember the situation. "Sorry I went to sleep on you so early, but this mattress is so comfortable. I'm going to kiss you now."

"Yeah. Can I go brush my teeth first?"  He climbed on top of me and our faces were so close.

"No. I'm taking over now. You owe me." I guess he was right. His beard was soft, but a somehow little abrasive as he devoured my whole face. I'd never been kissed before, but this was an advanced lesson. West aggressively pushed his tongue into my mouth and I felt his spit mix with mine. I knew I should enjoy this, but I'd never really learned to give in to another person. I'd always been fiercely independent. But now a big man was in charge of me. The weight of West's giant frame left me powerless...I was in for a ride.  I wrapped my arms around his broad back to let him know I was liking this. He responded by raising himself up a little and poking his hard penis between my ass cheeks. OK. I could do this maybe.

"There's a few ways we can do this, but I want to see your face as I impregnate you." This man had raped his wife...and probably had the AIDS virus. I just didn't care about that now. The good thing about being a virgin is that you can let a more experienced partner take the lead. He did. Oh, did he ever! His dick was trying to pry my hole open.

"Ow! No! Get it out!"

"Shh. It'll hurt at first. This will take a little time because you're so tight and I came a lot last night. I'm going to enter you fully and I don't think I can go slow. Take a deep breath." He rammed his whole tool directly up into my insides.

"NO!!!" I'd fallen out of a tree as a little kid and broke my arm. The pain I felt now was so much worse than that. I thought I saw flashes of light in my brain. 

"Goddamn. buddy! This is great! Ahhh...I am loving this!" I guess there was no point in screaming anymore, and my muscle tension was probably making this worse for me. How do you relax when it feels like someone is stabbing you in the ass?! Endurance. I tried to love the idea of what this would like as a porn movie...this big guy's ample ass moving up and down on top of a smaller man. I'd watch it. 

"Yeah... You are so big, West." He seemed surprised that I was saying that and also  that I had grabbed his butt. 

"Good. Keep touching my ass. Just like that. OH! I'm going to make a baby with you! I..." He was crazed with lust and pleasure. His thrusts got more intense. Faster. "HOLY SHIT! I'M CUMMING NOW...NOW!!!" All I felt was a tearing pain, but I imagined his semen shooting inside my body. Maybe it had a disease in it.... He stopped moving. I was guessing it was over with, but his dick stayed hard. He started to piston in and out again. "Just working it in deeper, Terry. You like that?" I did. I kinda didn't want this to end. I would be someone new as soon as I got out of bed. Does that make sense? But he was done and got out of bed. 

"Stay still a while. I tore you up down there and you're bleeding like crazy. Rest. I'm going to clean up and make some coffee for us." He left the room as I wondered if I was really hurt that badly. He stepped in the shower for a few minutes. I listened to the water and also to my thoughts. I might have snoozed a little.

"How are we doing in here, little friend? Who is 'Knuckles' by the way? You kept saying that in your sleep. Here's your coffee. Need help getting up?" No. Or wait. I felt like I'd been a car accident.

"Yeah..just for a second." He grabbed my hand and steadied me on the floor.

"Go clean up a little. I'll clean this mess up." I stepped in the shower and washed the blood off of my legs, ass and crotch.  Damn, I was sore. I could be normal. Gay guys did this all the time, right? I put on some sweats as West came to check on me. "You feelin' okay? Come out here. I couldn't figure out the remote." I limped out to the front room. Damn, my ass hurt! Wow. I suppose I was ruined now. 

West was still nude and getting comfortable on the couch as I found an old movie channel. "Hungry? I have some of those Jimmy Dean breakfast sandwiches I can nuke for us."

"Sounds great...we can't exactly go out to eat. I have no clothes." I made his breakfast and watched him eat all eight sandwiches. I had no appetite just now. 

"Let me go wash your stuff now. Want me to put your shoes outside a little while?"

"Nah. It's too cold out there. Spray some air freshener in them maybe. Or deodorant." I put his grimy clothes in the washer and wondered if they'd disintegrate once hot, soapy water hit them. Once the cycle started, I joined West in living room as a new thought was entering my brain.

"Hey. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. What?"

"It'll sound weird...but do you think we're dead?"

"WHAT? Why would you ask that??"

"I just feel so different now. What are the odds of us finding each other at night and surviving bitter cold? I don't even have frostbite. Nobody knows what happens when you die." 

He thought for a second. "If this is what death is like, I'm not complaining. Are you?"

His clothes were finished and ready for the dryer. And then a shadow passed in front of my kitchen window. Mailman. I put on my coat on to go retrieve the bills and junk catalogs, ads. It was so insanely cold out. I stopped midway across the front porch. Right in the corner was a little, shivering kitten. He was so small, but had a thick coat of long black fur. I forgot the mail and scooped up the kitty. How was he still alive? I rushed him inside to get warm. 

"Look!" West was incredulous.

"A baby cat? This time of year?" The warm house seemed to revive the little creature and he started mewing. He also purred a little. He looked just like Knuckles when he was a kitten. But Knuckles was fixed so this couldn't be his son. 

"He's home now."

"We all are, Terry."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[evilqueerpig]

Dead or alive, Terry and West had found a slice of Heaven together.

[lynn1964]

What a beautiful story to tell. Full of new bright possibilities. You make it so easy for me to love the lovers and to want to be a part of their lives, even from the outside.

Breathtaking!

[bjbottom]

Another great story.   A nice reminder that one person can make a huge difference in your life - especially nice when that one person has a huge cock that tears you up.