Ice Storm

[Toon]

Note from Toon:  Some of this story is based on real events and the people are composites of a few characters I really met. The locations are somewhat fictionalized. No real names are used and most of the sex stuff is entirely fictional. 

 

THIS A WORK OF FICTION

 

PART 1

 

Kansas City, 1989

This story may be called "Ice Storm", but it all started about five months earlier. It was a horrible, record-breaking high temperature, humid Summer. I was 22 and doing freelance artwork for some rich,crazy woman who fancied herself some kind of expert on educating young people. I drew characters that were supposed to have no identifiable gender or race. I'd spend hours trying to sketch just such a thing. Never got it quite right, but she still paid me for my time. She'd come up with some crazy idea and I would try to help her realize it. I made enough for rent and a food - plus a few luxuries. It wasn't the life I'd dreamed of, but what else can you expect from some kid who'd just graduated with a fine arts degree? My ass was virginal, but my mouth sure as hell wasn't. I started sucking dick a week after I got my driver's license. I would sneak out to the rest area on I-35 in the middle of the night and suck off anybody who wanted it. Gross dudes, fat, old, ugly -- I didn't give a damn. I just swallowed as much semen as I could. I knew about HIV and AIDS. I knew it was mostly spread through butt sex...which I couldn't imagine even trying. It didn't even sound fun to me. 

I moved into a cheap apartment in a very gay community. I only picked the place because the rent was ridiculously cheap. It was known as a 'gayborhood' or a "gayted community".  Waiters, addicts, students, starving artists, strippers, hookers -- we all formed a community here. At least my building had very thick walls and I didn't hear my neighbors unless they had fights...which happened a lot during this heat wave. I was mostly a friendly person, but not an especially confident one. My abusive dad had beaten all the self-worth out of me when I was a kid. Boo-Hoo, Poor me. I was over it. Don't feel sorry for me. Childhood sucks because that's the way it goes. I fantasized about eating pancakes on his grave some day. At least I had an excuse to not to visit him during holidays. Mom had died of lung cancer when she was 40. She didn't even smoke. 

I got up the courage to go to one of the twenty gay bars that were open back then. Most of them were close enough to walk to. I went to one of the sleaziest cruise bars called "Plantation". It was a collection of fetish enthusiasts of all types. I saw a few leather dudes which was a whole world I didn't know the first thing about. They all looked tough, mean and sexy as fuck. I was developing my ideals and new fetishes almost daily. I focused my attention on these guys and hoped they'd make eye contact. None did. Oh well - I wasn't about to go out and spend a fortune on leather clothing... only to find out they were all nelly and submissive. I just wanted dick. Hard dick. And cum. I moved up to the main floor where people danced and were more social. I hadn't danced in public ever. I never went to school dances or any of that teen bullshit. I liked music a lot, though. 

That's when I saw a neighbor from my building. Greg -- pretty average-looking, very tall and he had a 'roommate'. He also had a big, friendly doberman that I always petted and fussed over when we were in the elevator together. We were friendly - but all I knew about him was his name...and that his roommate/lover always had hickeys. 

"Hi! Glen -- right?"

"Yeah. Hi, Greg." He seemed shocked that I was here. I had never given out much of a gay vibe. 

"I didn't know, man. It's good to see you."

"Where's your boyfriend?"

"Who? Oh, you mean David. We just share the rent - nothing else. I'm moving out soon... just a few blocks away. It's a house on Cherry street. Hold on - be right back...." He took off to greet some friends. He was one of those guys who knew everybody. I figured he came here a lot. He disappeared in a crush of people and I just sat at a little table with only one bar stool. Loser. It must have been stamped on my forehead. I watched people come and go. I decided to have one more beer and leave. I guess there must be a rest area close to here somewhere. I could always just go there and suck an anonymous dick. No sooner than I took my first swallow of the cold beer than Greg and his crowd walked by on their way out. "See ya, Greg." 

"Oh hey .... Glen. We're having an after-party at my new digs. I want you to meet my new roommate - Mark. He found the place. You can follow us. I held up my nearly full beer. "Don't worry about it...just stand in the middle of us. The bouncer don't care anyway. His pals helpfully moved me to the center of fags as we headed out. This place had a confederate flag in the window which I didn't like too much. As we walked out into the tropical night I felt some big hands with long fingers on my shoulders. 

"Hey! You're not allergic to dogs are you?" It was Mark. 6'4" and kind of gawky. 

"No. I love dogs. Does Greg still have the doberman?"

"Two of them now."

"Cool."

"How old are you?"

"23" (I was actually adding a year to my age back then!).

"Cool. What do you do."

"Art. Some writing."

"You work for Hallmark?"

"Nope. I applied and submitted a portfolio -- but they never called me. I just freelance now. What do you do?" 

"Maintenance." Well, that could mean anything. I kinda didn't care enough to ask more. "Finish your beer, man. You don't want to get stopped with an open container." I guzzled it down quickly just as we passed a mailbox. i dropped the empty bottle down the chute. Fuck the government. I hated Bush Sr.  

"What's the address?"

"I'll ride with you and give directions. It's close. We'll be there in two minutes."

"Cool." No attraction whatsoever. I could probably go for Greg -- but this guy? No. No way.

We got there behind all the others. The party was on the porch I guess. Rainbow flags were everywhere, up and down the street...from porches, from poles. "I'm going to get you into bed tonight." Was he kidding? 

"Sure. Sounds good." Really cheap beer was being served in cans and I wasn't in any kind of position to turn down free beer. I just couldn't get rid of this Mark guy. He wasn't ugly or anything -- I just didn't sense anything between us would ever happen. The party moved inside once everyone got sick of the mosquitoes. I had to figure that at least a few of them were HIV +. It had finally hit the Midwest with a vengeance. There were no drugs for it except AZT and antibiotics for all the infections. It was looking pretty bleak back then. There were two bathhouses in town but I couldn't to do that. There was a bong being passed around. There were ten guys there -- I had plenty of experience with weed but among a bunch of strangers. It wasn't too long before before they were loading the bowl with a mixture of weed and cocaine. Fuck this. I was stuck in the background as always. SIGH. I wondered where the dogs were. I saw one of those baby gates blocking the kitchen. doorway. I walked over but Mark stopped me. This guy, I swear.

"Careful. Georgie is pregnant and will bite you if you get too close." 

"OK. I think I'll go now." I could just grab another beer, drink it on the porch and go a few blocks home. Of course the Mark dude followed me out the door. 

"You're not much of a party guy, are you?" He rubbed one of his giant hands up and down my back. "Neither am I, really."

"Why the hell would you burn up cocaine? Doesn't that destroy it?"

He shrugged. "It must not. Greg does it every night. He has connections. Come back up on the porch and I'll get you another beer. We can sit on the swing." Maybe he wasn't so bad. He was friendly and I was sorely lacking friends in this city.

"Where do you do maintenance at?"

"Actually -- I'm just a janitor at the county hospital. It pays decent -- and I get benefits."

"You see AIDS guys there?" 

"Oh yeah! Most of them are needle users. Heroine. Shit like that. But some are more and more gay guys who fucked around too much."

"Wow," What do you say after that? I didn't have time to think before he was kissing me. Groping me. OK. I guess he was worth chance. For tonight anyway. He was tall and his giant hands were an indication of something, right? Still, I can't imagine our previous conversation had led to a make-out session.

"We're kinda out in the open here...let's go inside." Sure. We each grabbed a beer and went past the party people who had taken their shirts off and were randomly pairing up to fondle each other's crotches and smooch. In just a few minutes - all sorts of unsafe behavior would be going on soon. Mark took me back to his bedroom even though there was no actual bed in there -- just a mattress with sheets on the floor. I had so many one night stands in the 90's with guys who didn't own a bed frame. It was pretty common. There was nowhere to sit except on his mattress. 

"Ha! See? I told you I'd get you into bed!"

"Yeah." It wasn't that clever of a joke, but I smiled.

We fooled around for a little while but he didn't seem too into it. He stopped me from trying to reach into his shorts. OK. I didn't get it, but I hated being the only one interested. We both silently agreed to call it a night. I showed myself out. The only two people left from the party were Greg and some random guy. They both still had pants on but you could tell they'd come off soon enough. I just got in my car and drove the few blocks home. I can't say it was a 'fun' night, but it was an experience I'd needed to have.

Funny how I'd start getting obsessed with this Mark guy over the next few months. I'd see him from to time at Plantation and I tried like hell to get him interested in me again. I had a female  friend (Gretel) who had told me that some guys would pursue her for weeks and, then, would get all cold if she expressed an interest back. I had so much to learn about relationships. In the Fall, I was finally hired by Hallmark as a writer. My art was not their style, but they liked my writing...and my ability to mix art with words. That took up most of my time. I became the 'golden boy' there and got raises almost every 8 weeks. This was back when people actually still bought greeting cards. It was a great time for me in most ways -- EXCEPT --  I still didn't have a boyfriend. Everything would have been completely perfect if I had a regular, a familiar dick to come home to. Mark's specifically. Oh well. I kept hunting. Had some luck with a few safe sessions with dudes from the bar. One guy was from out of town had stayed with me the whole weekend. I was sick of him as soon as soon as I'd cum. But he stayed until Sunday night when I dropped him off at the train station. His was the first ass I had eaten. I still wan't sure if I liked it. It seemed a little unsafe to me. 

By then the ghastly holiday season had begun. I had nowhere to go and no one to call...or send cards to. Whatever. I had upgraded my TV and my premium cable choices. I also bought a Nintendo and had already beaten Tetris to the end. Twice. Wasn't my life supposed to be better than this? I was getting stoned regularly and going to Plantation. I didn't see Mark much but I almost always saw Greg. He was friendlier than usual one night and wanted to chat.

"You still single?"

It was none of his business, but I needed a friend. "Yeah. How's Mark?"

"I don't see him much these days."

"I thought he and I would be a good match -- but he's all weird when we talk."

"Don't worry 'bout it. You're too good for him. He's into older guys with facial hair." Well, fuck -- I couldn't grow a beard to save my life. It's probably lucky my parents weren't Mennonites. 

"Oh."

"I can introduce you to people. I'm a big bar slut and know everybody. You're cute -- maybe too innocent, but still cute." 

"I'm not that innocent, Greg. But thanks." He grinned at me and led me down to the basement level where those leather guys were. Ugh. I guess I'd be single through the end of the year.  It wasn't as unfriendly as I remember. I guess just being with Greg was like my ticket to join their world. Or maybe it was the leather bomber jacket I'd treated myself to.  

"I don't see anybody good enough for you tonight." Was he kidding? Just trying to be nice? Flirting???

"I'm not all that great, Greg."

"I think you are." It was his roommate I was interested in, but you know it goes with beggars trying to be choosers. He wasn't so bad. Reddish brown hair, facial scruff that was pretty patchy. He wasn't quite as tall as Mark, but I wouldn't mind kissing that mouth. Just as we were about to maybe kiss -- one of his buddies interrupted -

"Greg! You gotta come upstairs -- there's a fight! I think the cops are gonna come!" I'd seen the other guy here many times. I remember somebody telling me he was a thief. He'd come home with somebody and steal shit. I was pointedly not invited to join them as they raced away. Alone again....naturally. I saw Mark lurking in the corner. O bought two shots and took him one. 

"Hey, Stranger. I hear there's a fight upstairs."

"It's already over."

"Oh -- I got hired by Hallmark finally. I'm a writer in the humor department."

"Cool. That makes you a catch. Good job, status. You're the whole package now." But obviously still not for him. I should go home and get really high while playing Mario Brothers. He took the shot but didn't bother to thank me for it. I needed a vaccine for my crush on him. He didn't want me, so why did I still want him?

"Later." I bolted with what little dignity I had left. I ate at Denny's on Thanksgiving -- just so I could feel extra sorry for myself. Not bad. I even made a stop at the liquor store as a final 'fuck you' to the holiday. I got extra drunk and listened to the new New Order cassette I'd just bought. It was so, so good! I still love that group. It evokes a time and an emotion that will never happen for me again.  Longing, hope, anticipation....I don't ever feel those things now.

I made some friends at work. A lot of gay guys worked near there. I met one of them and we were almost sort of dating for a week or two. His thing was to have me kneel down in front of him as he ejaculated on my head and then rub his fingers through the jizz in my hair afterwards. Was that a thing? He was obsessed with my hair. We kind of fizzled out as a couple soon. I'd never date another person from work ever again. Too weird. Hell -- I'd just jack off every night. So much easier. 

I actually made it through Christmas without sinking completely into self-pity. But.BUT, New Year's Eve was coming -- and I needed to find someone, anyone. I needed a kiss at midnight just once.

The Winter was especially cruel that month. The worst ice storm in history was heading our way. Of course. The perfect end to a very imperfect year.

 

PART 2

December 30, 1989

Friday. Hardly anybody was at work. It was a Friday right before a holiday. I still had no plans yet. Fuck it. I'd find somebody at Plantation -- anybody would do. I'd suck whatever dick was there -- I'd even fuck without a rubber if I had to. Fuck safety, fuck shyness -- I'd dive into the first crotch I saw. I left early. The parking garage was empty. Just my lonesome. piece-of-shit car. The sky was getting ominous and the wind had a certain dangerous, freezing smell. I stopped at the bar before happy hour had even officially began. The bartender was a Falcon Video come to life. Muscular, mustache and mostly silent. He was friendlier than usual and gave me happy hour prices on my beer. Maybe he knew the storm was coming and he wouldn't be hauling in  big tips tonight. He looked like a complete boss top, but I found out later that he was a total bottom that moved to Florida to live with some doctor. Still nice to look at. I scanned the bar for a dick, any dick to bring home before the storm. Looks and age didn't matter anymore. Oh, Jesus -- there was Mark. He'd found somebody already. A big guy with a salt and pepper beard and weighing about 350 pounds. Yeah...I'd never be his type. Not for a decade at least. And a strict diet of french fries. And probably a fake beard too.

The super-hunk bartender tapped me on the shoulder. ''Hey, cutie -- it's starting to rain ice out there. You best get home." He handed me a free shot and a card with his number on it, Cool! His name was Thomas. I left feeling a little hopeful. I knew better than to fall for a bartender -- but, hey, I had to give it shot. Maybe the storm would pass and maybe the temperature would get warmer and maybe, maybe , maybe. Maybe I'd resolve to start being more optimistic in 1990....starting now. Right now. No, really...NOW. No sooner had I decided that when I slipped on the icy sidewalk and landed hard on my ass. This was going to be worse than I thought. Shit. The short drive home was definitely going to be treacherous. My dad used to be an expert at driving in bad weather, but I'd never paid attention to anything he ever said or did. I hated him. It took almost 40 minutes to drive seven blocks. I made it safely despite the multiple fender-benders and the slow as hell salt trucks ahead of me. The doorman let me in. "Hope you got food stored - this is going to be a bad storm." He was a geeky blonde college kid who I'd seen play Risk -- by himself. I wasn't sure if he lived in the building or not. 

"You live far from here?"

"No. Like four blocks away, with my girlfriend. I just walk." Oh. OK. I wondered how many gay residents here had hit on him. Probably more than a few was my guess because he pulled that girlfriend story out right away. Whatever. Looks like I'd be trapped here for the weekend. I guess I could always just start  knocking on doors. 'Hey. Want a blow job?' At least we hadn't lost power yet. I had almost a half ounce of weed, a twelve pack of beer and the Nintendo. I thought of my dad who lived still lived in the same house I grew up in. He'd be in the dark already if the same storm had hit there. I needed to eat something. I'd start with stuff from the freezer first in case the power did go out first eventually. Something so sad about a sexless single guy eating frozen pizza four nights a week. SIGH. Forty minutes later and I was playing video games with the AM news station. At least, back then. it wasn't constant right wing hate 24 hours a day. Man, I hoped Bill Clinton would really become the next president. I thought he was kind of sexy. 

"Authorities are advising people to stay off the streets and highways. If you're stuck in traffic right now--please be patient. We're getting some initial reports power outages in outlying areas. Keep it here on 790 for more on Ice Storm '89." Wow. It already had a name and everything. Even from seven floors up, I could hear tires spinning uselessly on the icy avenue. Poor bastards. I needed to get stoned. For a bit of college nostalgia, I made a makeshift pipe from an empty aluminum can. It's easy. I got a a decent buzz quickly. Time for headphones and tunes! It was a normal Friday night for me after all. Tomorrow was New Year's Eve and I could wait until then to get good and depressed. I was getting really into old Pink Floyd these days and thought "Wish You Were Here" was just about the most perfect thing I'd ever listened to. Every song seemed personal to me back then. It was like being a teenager when you let the Top 40 act as your diary. I became 13 right when rock was fading and New Wave was hitting the airwaves. Let the whole world freeze over now, I didn't care anymore.

At some point I woke up feeling super hungry. It was 11 at night. I sat in the kitchen and ate two Snickers bars from the freezer. Then I opened a cold beer and sat at the kitchen table where the phone was being so obviously silent. No messages. No nobody. I needed to call around and see if I could find some company. I figured Thomas was still working or stuck somewhere, but I called anyway. No answer. I looked in the silverware drawer, under the tray where I'd kept phone numbers from random hookups. I tried to remember the faces that went with the names. They all had dicks worth sucking. Who was that one guy, that flight attendant who wanted to fuck me? I just had never done that. Even if I had an actual vagina back there, it just seemed too invasive, too dangerous. It also felt 'weak'. Like I'd be giving up too much. Fuck it. If I could come across a dick tonight, I'd let it do whatever it wanted. 

Some of them were different area codes -- had to rule those out. Mark! Maybe he'd be done with his new Santa guy by now. I waited until I'd opened my third beer before I finally called his number. Greg.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Greg. It's Glen. Is Mark there?"

"No. Do you know where he is?"

"Nope." Idiot. Why would I call if I knew where he was already?

"I'm getting worried. I wrecked on Prairie Drive. Nothing major. I just hit a fence outside that Korean church. No tow trucks or cops gonna come in this weather."

"Well, I'm glad you made it home safe."

"Yeah. I am just now thawing out. What are you doing?"

"Not much. Got a little stoned and listened to music. I was going to watch "Up All Night" on USA. It's always something terrible but funny."

"Cool. The dogs are so nervous. They hate storms and they hate it when both of us aren't home."

"I haven't even looked outside. Is it still coming down?"

"I think it's stopped, but the damage is done. Ain't nobody going nowhere tonight."

"Well. I haven't got any plans for the weekend. So I'll let the city figure it out. Hey - did you sell all the puppies already?"

"Sure did. Got 200 bucks apiece."

"I bet they were cute."

"Yeah. It broke my heart every time I sold one. There should be a new litter by Spring. Want one?"

"Maybe. I started a new job at Hallmark and should be moving to a bigger place some day."

"Congratulations! That's so cool." 

"Yeah. I like it a lot there."

"It's nice talking with you, I wish you were here now, I want to be with you," The same thought had been going through my mind. 

"Same here, Greg. Your house is only a few blocks away. I can't drive, but I could always walk." 

"OK. That'd be great. If you walk on the grass, it's not so bad. Just be careful crossing the street."

"You got any beer?"

"No. Nothing. You got some?"

"Sure. Give me about 30 minutes."

"Bye."  CLICK

I couldn't believe I was so horny that I'd walk on pure ice to get some cock, some cum. From a guy who'd never commit to anything long-term. He had a needy boner just like I did. 

I'd taken a few photography classes in art school and some relative had given me a nice leather camera bag. It was big enough to put eight cans of beer in -- if you left the camera and equipment out. I also put two cans in each of my coat pockets too. I also rolled a picture-perfect joint and took that too. I was so glad we hadn't lost electricity in the neighborhood. As I walked through the lobby I saw the dumb-ass doorman playing Yahtzee with himself. 

"You're not driving in this, are you?" 

"Nah. I'm just going to get some photos of the storm damage." I pointed to my camera bag as if there was a camera in it.

"Make sure you have your keys. I might not be here when you get back."

"Got 'em." Jerk

"Well, be careful." I didn't even answer that as I walked outside and felt the arctic air wash over me. It was cleanest, purest atmosphere you could ever hope to breathe. Greg was right: the sidewalks were not safe to tread upon. I walked o the crunchy grass before I had to cross the avenue. I didn't own any shoes with tread made for this weather. I just slid diagonally over to Greg's street like I was riding a surfboard. I only fell once. The steps up to Greg's house were tricky, but I managed to crawl up them like a panther on the prowl. His porch light was already on. Greg answered the door wearing only pajama bottoms, socks and a bathrobe. Cool. There'd be sex!!

"How is it out there?"

"You gotta be careful but it's not too bad walking."

"Come sit down, get warm." I took off my coat and put down the camera bag. He already had the heat turned up pretty high. There was no TV in the living room -- I'd never seen such a thing. He had a boom box which was set on some bubblegum pop station I never listened to. 94.6 FM. So I guess we were going to have to fill the time making conversation. 

"So have you been, Greg?"

"Not so bad -- until tonight. I didn't really mess up the car too bad. I only have liability insurance, but I guess I don't have to worry about paying the church for damage to their fence. "

It was so warm in here. "Want a beer?" 

"Hell yeah!" I opened my camera bag and opened two of them out for us. Still cold. I thought I drained beers fast, but Greg swallowed almost all of his before I'd even opened mine.  That gave me yet another excuse to drink a lot, quickly. 

"How are the dogs?"

"They spend Winters at my brother's farm in Texas. It's warmer there." We opened more beers,

"Is that where you're from? Texas?"

"Yeah. You can't tell by the accent? Where are you from?" 

"Oklahoma." 

"Wow. You sound like you're from Chicago or somewhere like that." 

"I've tried my whole life to lose any trace of how my dad talked." Greg nodded. I guess most of us had shitty relationships with our dads. 

"You're tense. Why?"

"I'm not. I'm just....I'm not tense." I was more horny than tense. He had very hairy legs. I couldn't stop looking at them. Oh hell -- I found the joint I'd brought and held it up. "Care to partake?"

"Wow. You are a great guest! I would have never guessed you smoked." So we shared the weed and I moved down to the floor (I've always been more comfortable on the floor). Maybe I'd get glimpse up his robe -- not that he wouldn't have just let me open it and get a good look. 

"Look -- I'm sorry you and Mark didn't work out. He's a flake, man. If I had a guy like you interested in me -- I'd be over the moon!" 

I was starting to not mind the music so much. Madonna's "Like a Prayer" was on and I loved that song. "Thanks. Did you ever see the Pepsi commercial with Madonna in it? I only saw it once before they pulled it."

"No. The video is weird."We finished the joint. And I opened more beers for us while he lit a cigarette. "Want one?" Sure - what the hell? He handed me the one directly from his perfect lips. I kept looking at his long, thick fingers. (also hairy) 

"You have great hands, Greg."

"Yeah? Talk to me about those hands." His voice got deeper. 

I grabbed his hand -- and slowly sucked each finger. I didn't even know I was into hands until now. "You have manly hands. Big knuckles, I just really like them."

"Nice. What do you like to do?"

"I pretty much just like to suck dick." Did I really say that out loud? I was fucked up! Shit. 

"Well...that's a place to start..." He opened his robe and I saw his dick was already hard. It was an usual specimen.,,tiny head and a shaft that quickly got fatter as it went down to the base. Like, WAY fatter. "You like this?"  I didn't even bother to answer. A hard dick was inches away and I put my mouth on it immediately. DAMN! I needed this badly. I sucked and sucked until I wore both of us out. "Whoa -- take a break for a minute." I needed to pee anyway. 

"Where's your bathroom?" He pointed in a general direction as he lit another cigarette. I found it and closed the door. I'm ashamed to admit that I always snooped in other people's medicine cabinets when I used their bathrooms. Good God! The whole thing was full of prescription bottles. Nearly half were for Greg, the other half for Mark. Fuck! AIDS? Right? Fuck! Wait, wait...maybe they just both had allergies really bad. But in the middle of Winter? Dammit -- I'd pretend I never saw all that shit. I just peed and left. I didn't see anything. Nothing.

Greg was stroking his boner. "Take off your clothes already!" I did. Even the socks. He was just in his socks but soon peeled those off too. We were completely nude together. I had a stiffy that just wouldn't go down. "You sucked me so good -- I need some lotion on my dick."

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry -- just follow me. I got some special lotion you can put on it for me." I was in a trance just watching the tiny, round butt attached to his long lean backside. His bed was perfectly made and there was a small nightlight on an outlet near the floor. He already had a tube of "lotion" uncapped on the nightstand. It was very obviously lube. Butt sex lube. OK. I knew this was day was coming. I was going to have to take it up my butt. Life is full of doors. The doors to sorrow are numerous and always open, but the there are very few doors leading to joy. I finally found one and couldn't turn back now. I went through that door and flopped on the bed. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw that the headboard was this weird imitation leather and there were two wrist straps attached on the sides. OK. This guy was hardcore. 

We were both naked and both very hard. I was on my back. He sat on my chest with his bare ass. "You want one last taste before I put the lube on?" Yes.

I wanted him to fuck my face and gag me with that fat, pointy dick. He pretty much did just that. I gulped and only gagged a little once. He was really going to town, but pulled away just as it sounded like he was going to cum. "Stop!" His sweat was dripping all over me. "Did you bring a condom with you?"

"No. I had no idea it would get this far." 

"Well...I will try to pull out before I nut." He put a generous amount of lube on his cock and a little bit on my asshole which I worked in with a finger. I was about to let a guy with a tons of prescription bottles enter me with no latex covering his dick. So be it. "I don't have the greatest luck" 

"I want you, Greg. ALL of you." He put my wrists through the straps, hoisted my legs over his shoulders. "Can you turn a little more light on? I want to see you." He had to stretch to reach a little table lamp. It was a very low wattage but at least I could see more of him. He was not a particularly handsome man, but he looked like an angel in this lighting. I wanted him to kiss me, but he was so horny that he wanted to fuck. And so it began -- He worked that tiny head in and  it barely hurt. It wasn't until he pushed the fat shaft further that I had decided to change my mind.  "NO!" I could barely handle it. "NO! STOP!"

"Shh. Just a little bit more. It'll get better. Just hang on." I'd asked for this. As I got used to his cock inside me, it felt better...much better. It wasn't like I could push him off of me anyway. That helplessness helped me enjoy the throbbing waves of pleasure radiating from my inner rectum. My whole body was shaking and that seemed to really get him enthused. My complaints had turned to moans. "Fuck I'm gonna cum."

"Don't pull out, Greg. Get me pregnant."

"You sure?....ahhhh...DAMN! Here you go, man!" I felt so gypped that I couldn't feel the spurts go into my guts. The mental image was enough, I guess. He fell on top of me and started sucking on my neck hard. He was leaving a hickey for sure. I couldn't stop him.  He was so sweaty and had a certain smell that wasn't quite B.O -- but close. 

Greg was exhausted. He undid my straps and flopped down next to me, breathing heavily. He was asleep within five minutes while I just wanted to go home. I mean, he'd already told me he was a bar slut and couldn't be tied down. I knew I'd just had very risky sex and would probably need to get tested in a few weeks. I had a good medical plan, but it wouldn't kick in until next month. I was told I would not be covered if I was injured jumping out of an airplane. That's pretty much what I'd done. I'd landed safely --but in a nest of scorpions. I went to the living room and got dressed. I knew it was rude to take the rest of my beer with me. You're supposed to leave it with the host, but this probably wouldn't happen again anytime soon. I sat on  his couch and drank one of them as fast as I could. I also grabbed his pack of cigarettes, lit one and put it in my coat pocket. Double rude. I could hear Greg snoring from here. 

It was still icy as fuck outside. Like I even cared now. At this point, even falling and breaking all my teeth out would be OK compared to what I'd just done. What I'd just done to myself. It was a weird sensation to be out at this hour and not see a single car on the streets. Just the haunted sound of Northern wind and crackling, snapping branches. It was the sound of tiny bones breaking. Yep - the doorman was gone by the time I got to my building. I fished out my keys and my hands were numb (I seriously needed to buy some gloves). The power was still working. Miracle. 

The phone was ringing as I got in the door. Greg? Thomas? I rushed to the kitchen and answered.

"Hi." Its was Gretel -- my old high school friend. The first person I came out to. The oven on my clock said 1:10 AM. She rarely called me and never this late.

"What's up."

"I saw you guys had a big ice storm down there. It was on the news even."

"Yeah. It's something else alright. No parties tomorrow night."

"Remember that one New Years Eve when we drove around until we found somewhere that would sell us beer? It didn't take long."

"It was smart of us to let you go in alone. That guy was so in love with you."

"They're called 'tits', Glen." She'd only bought a six-pack but it was enough to make us sick. We were amateurs. I'd gone on to college while she stayed behind for some guy who ended up dumping her when she told him she wanted a baby. She'd only ever planned to be a wife and a mother. 

"What have you been up to, Gretel?"

'Well..." I knew what she was about to tell me. "I'm pregnant."

"Funny. So am I."

END

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[evilqueerpig]

Way to go, Toon!  Prolific and terrific!

[Petereater]

Great story!

[bjbottom]

Great story, I really appreciated the ending lines!