Hi, Gene

[Toon]

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[bjbottom]

A nice romantic love story .... you are a great story teller/writer. 

[Kazewolf]

Wished this would happen to me..

Loved the story...great telling...??