Bull, pt. 1

[Toon]

 

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."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[bjbottom]

Wow is all I can say.  So different from some of your other stories, yet so descriptive and erotic.