Category: Uncategorized

This story contains themes of incest, homophobia and toxic masculinity. It is a work of fiction and its author does not condone, endorse, or glorify any of the depicted behaviors. 

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A Game of Catch

1.

The stale scent of toast and something cloying—Bryce’s cologne—hung in the kitchen air like an insult. Where did this fucking kid get off? Jake wanted to know. Not what Bryce was doing, but what right did he have to this casual disregard? The weight of it settled deep into his shoulders and back, heavier than any workout: Jake was an aggrieved man.

His wife was away, again. Sheila. She’d been gone a lot lately, visiting her ailing parents. Without her there to provide her usual buffer—the soft, unobtrusive cover over Bryce’s conduct—Jake could see their son. Truly see him. And it wasn’t good. Not good at all.

Every sloppy habit felt like a personal slight, chipped away at Jake’s accomplishments, his life’s work. He’d labored for this house, sacrificed, for this life, for them. And what did he get in return? A vague sense of being a glorified ATM and a barely tolerated housemate.

When Bryce shaved, he left his little blond whiskers, a careless dusting of disrespect, clinging to the porcelain of the sink. He made breakfast and left the butter out on the counter, uncovered, a softening yellow slab. And the pan he used, barely rinsed, still filmed with eggs. Another testament to his disregard. 

He drifted through the house in his boxers, slung low on his slim hips, as if the place belonged to him alone. Built like a young god, sure. Jake understood—he’d had that body once. But Bryce squandered that too, and that was the greatest insult. That was another story. 

He was always on his phone, messaging his friends—or boyfriends, Jake guessed, though he seemed to go through them, never bothering to bring them around. Another slight.

Rinsing the pan Bryce had used, the warm water doing little against the stubborn egg film, Jake thought this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

He’d done everything expected of a man of his age, station, and abilities. As a boy, he’d excelled, working and playing hard, always pushing himself. He avoided excess, treated his body like a temple. He married young to a good girl, grew in his profession. He was a faithful and good provider. He kept himself as fit as he was in college, well into his forties, as his peers went soft. He saw their envious glances in the locker room, felt the subtle shift in their posture around him. At least they appreciated him in their small way.

He’d held up his end of the unspoken bargain and expected an easier middle age, a distant but eventual retirement, with a grateful, adoring family. He was owed adult sons who, in their turn, followed in his footsteps, perpetuating the cycle. A wife who kept herself as pretty as he kept himself fit, a partner who kept pace with him.

What he had instead was this: A middle-aged wife, distracted, leaving him in a sexless marriage more often than not. Escalating bills, for gadgets that didn’t even exist in his youth, more being invented every day. And a single son who turned out gay, ending Jake’s family line.

To add insult to injury, Bryce could have had it all. He was blessed with the best of both parents, blended to greater effect in him than in either of them. He had Jake’s natural athleticism and his mother’s blond good looks, making him broad-shouldered and slim-hipped, pretty in the face without being feminine at all. Jake had, on occasion, caught himself staring, a flicker of something he quickly dismissed as pride in his genetics.

Fuck. He never should have let his only son be given a pussy name like Bryce.

Couldn’t he have kept that homo shit bottled up? Jake wondered, scrubbing harder. Couldn’t he just do what was expected, and take care of that other business on the side? Instead, he was wasting the gift of his body on the dead end of—Jake assumed—receiving other men’s pleasure. 

Couldn’t he have just used the body Jake gave him to create grandchildren, to pass on Jake’s line?

Not a single person in Jake’s house appreciated what he’d done for them.

2.

“Bryce,” Jake said, his voice clipped. He held a baseball, its worn leather rough beneath his thumb, and two mitts. “Catch.”

“Not now,” the boy replied, barely looking up from his phone, thumb gliding. A casual dismissal.

“Catch,” Jake said, more sternly, getting the boy’s attention with the edge in his voice. He threw the ball hard—hard enough for Bryce to feel it, when he instinctively raised his hands to catch, just barely shielding his shoulder from the sharp, intended impact.

Good boy. If he had to be gay he at least still had a good eye and hand. Jake had given him that, too.

“Catch. Now.” 

Bryce might be an obstinate young man, almost twenty, but Jake had the advantage of years of Bryce seeing him as bigger, indomitable. Even pissy and disrespectful, Bryce couldn’t just shrug off that conditioning. His defiance folded under Jake’s force, as he roused himself, following Jake out to the fenced backyard. 

The property had been bought by the sweat off Jake’s back, figuratively, but as surely as he’d made Bryce with his cock and balls and DNA. Whatever the boy was, he owed half of it to the sweat off Jake’s back—literally.

They threw the ball back and forth, harder than necessary. Jake put his weight into every throw, pushing from his dense, years-forged core, sending the ball with a force that showed he wasn’t just playing. Bryce caught with a fluid ease, his young body absorbing the blows with a supple give that both impressed and irritated Jake. 

The funny thing about this game, Jake had often thought, was that it was called catch, not throw, even though throwing is half the equation. The name of the game puts the burden on the one who receives. Another funny thing—no winners, no losers, just the endless back and forth. Drop the ball, pick it up, keep going. But this game, today, felt more like a war of attrition. Nothing friendly about it—just a relentless exchange, each throw more laden than the last.

“You left a mess in the bathroom,” Jake said. Throw. 

The ball hissed through the air, a physical manifestation of his simmering resentment.

Catch. “What?” Bryce asked, flat, his arm aching. Throw.

Catch. “When you shaved. You need to clean the damn sink.” Throw hard.

The fastball slammed into Bryce’s mitt with an angry pop. He stumbled back a step, but caught it. Good boy. His eyes met Jake’s with a flicker of challenge. 

Jake recalled a line he’d read somewhere, from a poet to a student who had figured out a line he’d written: It’s nice to have someone catch what you’re throwing. Jake threw. Bryce caught. But he wasn’t catching the message. Not the real one.

And so they played, back and forth, neither enjoying the game but neither yielding. Jake’s throws were backed with resentment. Bryce, with his bruised palm and aching arm, caught every one, absorbing the impact, matching it with his own youthful defiance, refusing to yield.

The heat and silence of the day played on them until their faces ran with sweat, their shirts darkened in the armpits and backs. When the sun passed its peak, their arms ached and their cheeks and noses were ruddy.

Bryce had youth, but Jake had endurance. That’s why it was Bryce who ultimately—hours after they began—caught his last ball and dropped it to the grass, done. He massaged his shoulder gingerly. Though Jake’s own dense bicep throbbed with a dull ache, he felt a deep wave of satisfaction. He’d outlasted the young stud, beaten him through sheer will. His enduring power confirmed.

Bryce turned, still rubbing his shoulder. His voice was raw, stripped of the usual bite. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He stared at Jake, searching for something in his face. “What are you punishing me for?”

3.

What wasn’t wrong? Jake could have asked in return.

His son was a faggot. That was the blunt, brutal truth.

Jake was never the type to throw the word around. In the locker room, out for beers. When the other guys sneered it, he kept his mouth shut. Let it go. But facts were facts, and the word was now his burden too. That was the ugly, undeniable fact in the middle of his life.

Those other guys—his colleagues, his competitors at the club, the men who measured themselves against him daily—they’d know eventually. They’d start asking, their voices too cheerful by half, about when Bryce would bring a girlfriend around. A good-looking stud like him—he must have to beat them off with a stick, they’d say.

Jake could play dumb. Say Bryce was just picky, or too busy, or couldn’t settle on just one girl. He could lie. Or he could tell the truth.

They’d have one up on him. The biggest one. The ultimate failure. Knowing his only boy, Bryce, was getting his ass plugged by other men, like a fucking pussy. The son he had created, with his own seed, his own strong genes, to carry on his line.

All of Jake’s investment, his whole life’s work, his carefully constructed legacy, would end there, in a faggot’s ass. No grandchildren. The final, humiliating door slamming.

He might as well be the fag himself, might as well be the one taking it, for all the good his efforts had done him. This was the biggest grievance of all.

It wasn’t just the perverse use of his able body, though that was enough to make Jake’s stomach churn. It was the ingratitude. The deliberate, flagrant disregard for all Jake had built, all he’d given. Every dollar earned, every sacrifice made, every drop of sweat in the gym, all for this: a son who would turn his back on the very natural order Jake had upheld his entire life.

Bryce actively—willfully—chose to squander the gifts Jake had bestowed upon him, using his perfect body as a gift to other men instead of its rightful purpose—to pass on Jake’s name.

It offended his every sensibility as a father. To picture another man using Bryce’s body, splitting him open, dumping his load there—Bryce arching his back like a bitch, groaning, begging for more—sickened him.

That body was meant for sports, hard work, the kind of life Jake understood. Broad shoulders, strong legs. But Bryce, careless, was making it into a whore’s—something for other men to use for their own idle pleasure. A body made for building, turned into one for serving.

Other men would be getting off on him—hell, getting off in him—and Jake would be the only one left with nothing. No appreciation. No legacy. Just the taste of betrayal.

He knew the sneers he would face, the pitying looks. He’d seen them given to other men whose daughters had “gone wild,” or whose sons were soft. He’d contributed to them himself. Now, it was his turn, and he felt a bitter rage.

He’d thought, vaguely, of starting again. Getting a divorce and a new young wife, fucking a load of sons into her. He got enough looks from women to know it was possible, and even at 47 he was an undiminished fucker. If anything he’d held so much in reserve, it would be good to cut loose—with someone young enough, hungry enough for him, to take it. It would be good to be wanted again.

Instead, he spent this summer while his wife was away circling Bryce like two panthers in a zoo enclosure, with too little space for both their territories, the hair on their necks bristling as they passed each other. Bryce, on his phone, always messaging someone, or disappearing to God knew where. Always pushing Jake’s limits. Always trying to provoke… something.

Jake ought to get something out of this all. A return on his investment. An acknowledgment.

And Bryce’s question still hung there. What was Jake punishing him for? 

Might as well spit it out—it wasn’t going to change any time soon. 

“For being a faggot,” Jake said, low and raw. There. It was out. And the release, the brutal truth, was a shot of pure satisfaction.

4.

“That’s it?” Bryce asked, with a slow head shake. “Guilty as charged.”

He stepped up close to Jake—closer than he had in a long time. His eyes—pale amber like his mother’s—locked on Jake’s. He moved with a liquid grace that prickled something in Jake—a carelessness that suggested no effort—to a man who had fought for every inch of muscle, every territory, every achievement.

“Suck my dick,” Jake said. The words emerged from his throat with a strange calm. He groped at the raging hardon that surged beneath the thin cotton of his gym shorts. God, it felt so good to say it, to finally articulate the raw demand. It felt like a right neglected, now claimed.

Bryce’s gaze never wavered. His hand, more slender than Jake’s, but strong, wrapped around his father’s straining bulge through the fabric, his fingers tracing the rigid length, the thick head. Jake felt a dizzying jolt of something pure he quickly dismissed as the thrill of dominance.

“Get that faggot mouth on my dick,” Jake rasped, watching Bryce’s face. It was like the boy was daring him, meeting him and egging him on.

Bryce went down. Not in a rush, but not slowly either. Faster than he responded to play catch earlier, faster than he ever cleaned his goddamn sink, faster than he ever met Jake’s eye unless provoked. It was a deliberate descent, with an athlete’s control.

He pulled back and down Jake’s shorts without hesitation, leaving Jake briefly wondering how many times he’d done this with other men. His cool about it suggested many, the idea of which made Jake’s cock surge. But Bryce’s next act jerked him out of his head and back into his body.

Fuck, Jake thought as the soft, warm mouth enveloped his cock—a sudden shock rippling through him. I should’ve done this instead of that dumb game of catch. This was instant interest on the boy’s part. This was attention.

Bryce took him deep, and Jake could see right off how good it was going to be. There was nothing tentative about Bryce now; he was hungry. He worked the length of Jake’s cock with his lips and tongue and hand, a fluid, knowing motion.

Jake watched, mesmerized by the swirl of pale blond hair as his fingers came to rest in it—by Bryce’s devotion. He seemed to admire the cock that made him. He fucking adored it, in a way Jake hadn’t felt in so long. And it was about fucking time. Jake felt a surge of triumph, a perverse sense of finally having his potency acknowledged.

As he watched how aggressively Bryce gulped down his length and came back for more, the awareness settled on Jake that he could, if he chose, fuck that sweet mouth. He could slam into the soft pillows of his lips, the snug cleft in his throat. Not a modest girl or a weary wife, Bryce could take it. He’d want that.

He might be a faggot, but he was a young man, with a young man’s appetites and endurance. He was built for it. For this. The perfect match for Jake, for his body and for his appetite. The realization was both sickening and exhilarating.

“Is that what you do, faggot?” Jake asked, his voice rough with a mixture of disgust and rising desire.

“It is,” Bryce rasped, his voice rougher for his effort, hand working Jake’s throbbing cock. He rose to his feet, standing so close their bodies almost brushed. His lips wet, shining, the tips of their noses grazed. His eyes held Jake’s, unwavering.

“Faggot.” Jake could hardly believe he was talking to his own boy, to Bryce, this way. But Bryce took it in stride. He welcomed it—seemed to absorb the insult, made it his own, and then threw it back, transformed. Catch. 

He pressed his wet lips to Bryce’s—a slow, deliberate seal—but it was Bryce’s tongue, tasting faintly of Jake’s own body, that pressed into Jake’s mouth. Hands on waists pulled each other close and cocks grinding against each other, Jake’s already aching for more. Bryce’s hands settled on the thick muscle of Jake’s chest, Jake’s own hands instinctively pressing into the firm mounds of Bryce’s ass, pulling him in.

Fuck, it felt good. Jake thought, with a flash of perverse pride, *he’s perfect. My creation.*

“Is this what you built yourself up for?” Jake asked between kisses, their foreheads pressed together, breath mingling. “For men to use you? To fuck your faggot ass?” 

The words, intended as an accusation, now felt like a question for the universe itself: How could it be that Bryce’s body could be used for the pleasure of any man—every man—except for the solitary exception of himself—the one who made it?

“Not for men,” Bryce answered, his voice humming against Jake’s lips. “For you.”

5.

Fuck.

The words hammered into Jake, settling deep in his core. Bryce had taken the good raw material Jake had put in him—the athleticism, the strong frame, the tenacity—and sculpted himself into something not for men, but for Jake. 

The bands of muscle in his chest for grabbing onto, the V taper of his back, the faint vein in his bicep and shoulders like marble. The firm cusps of ass, so perfectly formed for prying apart, to get to the fuckhole between. It was all a perverted but undeniable tribute. And Jake, in his gut, recognized the beauty of his own design, the flawless execution of his seed.

Looked at properly, whatever they might do—what he now intended to do—wasn’t cheating. 

The boy was half him and half his wife—not so different than fucking her or jerking off. It was the completion of a cycle so logical he couldn’t understand how he hadn’t seen it sooner. The body of his son, a direct extension of himself, could fulfill him in a way his wife couldn’t, and his legacy never would. It was his due.

And why should he be the single man in the entire wild world denied this? The only man not allowed to partake of his own handiwork? It was owed to him.

Jake turned Bryce around, manhandling him with a sudden, rough surge, jerking down his shorts to reveal the pale globes of his ass. Throw.

Bryce smirked as he braced himself against the cool, hard surface of the counter, even as a tremor ran through his sore arm, slightly spreading his legs. Catch. Good boy.

As Jake pressed against him, he could feel the fine hairs on Bryce’s neck, one aching arm around the boy, the warmth radiating from his body and the subtle play of muscle in his back as he fingered his ass, hand wedged between athletic thighs. 

The entry was tight. So damn tight. Jake wanted in—needed in—but he didn’t want it to be just pain. Fuck, he wanted him to like it, to need it as much as Jake did. It was good to be needed. That would make it so much better.

On the counter, still, was the butter left out from breakfast. Bryce’s carelessness now an invitation. Jake scooped some up in his hand, the slick fat cool against his veined, aching cock. He greased his length and girth with it, an animal preparation. The rest he pressed into Bryce’s tight hole, easing his fingers in, working the ring with his thumb, stretching him open. 

Bryce gasped, arching his back and wrapped hands around Jake’s thick forearm held across his chest, a subtle signal. The faggot was ready.

Jake eased in the head, jaw clenched to steel his resolve, holding his breath as the thick, engorged tip found its way in. Then the rest, an agonizingly slow push, until it was all in. Bryce’s snug insides hugging his cock like a second skin. So tight. So warm. So perfectly formed to take him.

This wouldn’t take long. He knew it.

Jake rocked his hips into the boy, surprised at how easily Bryce took it, how his body seemed to simply yield. He even reached down to work his own erection as Jake’s thrusts fucked a clear stream of fluid out of it, leaking onto the kitchen floor—a physical mirroring of Jake’s own pleasure.

He reached around to hug the boy’s chest. It was firm but supple, like his ass—not like a woman’s tits, with the bands of muscle beneath. But it felt good, so good, to get his hands on them, to possess this body for his own pleasure.

It caught Jake by surprise, the swell of his cock, going harder than before, the edge of climax burning. He pulled Bryce closer, grinding, muttering, “Fucking faggot.” The words, no longer an insult, but a perverse expression of their match to each other.

The words put him over, a tidal wave of pure, uninhibited release. His hard thrusts slammed Bryce against the counter, digging into him, feeling the deep, fulfilling grind as he shot his load. 

He could see it in his mind’s eye, gushing inside Bryce, filling him, meeting the end of his line in this grotesque way. He couldn’t stop, shoving in, fucking his load into the shuddering, beautiful boy, his supple muscles tensing as he absorbed every thrust.

“Take it… faggot whore,” he grunted, a final, choked gasp, and settled against Bryce, muscled back, kissing the nape of his neck in gratitude.

Jake pulled out, suddenly and crashingly sober to what he’d done. The silence of the kitchen, the sticky warmth of their mingled fluids, grease and filth on his half-hard cock. The reality of Bryce’s bowed back. 

A cold dread swept through him. Oh fuck, he thought, reeling, leaning back against the counter he’d just had Bryce bent over. What had he done? The sheer enormity of it threatened to crush him.

Then, the boy turned and dropped to his knees again, his head bowed, his warm mouth on Jake’s leaking cock, engulfing it. Cleaning him off. Like a supplicant.

Jake realized that for everything that aggrieved him, for every slight and bitter resentment, he’d found his grotesque answer. He had a boy who would always worship him, precisely the way he deserved.

 

END

I am a Faggot Piss Pig. My Master sometimes forces me to wear a locked sign around my neck that reads, “FAGGOT PISS PIG – PISS ON ME”.  The sign is covered up by my shirt while I’m dressed, however I am forced to strip naked exposing my sign and myself to all the men present at private events. Once I arrive Master blindfolds me so I can’t see who the men are that are piss showering me throughout the event. I actually become the men’s urinal for hours receiving piss shower after piss shower.

One evening in particular my Master took me to a private men’s sex party that lasted for several hours. I was informed that there would be over 200 men in attendance. Upon arrival, I was ordered to lie prone on the ground in front of two urinals. I was naked, blindfolded, and displayed the sign around my neck “PISS ON ME”.  Master told me that I would be there for hours so men could piss shower me throughout the night.  I would eventually smell like a used urinal.  I was also ordered to occasionally say out loud for men to hear, that I was a “Faggot Piss Pig”, and then say “please Sir Piss shower me”.  I was ordered to thank each man after they piss showered me. 

Master and I were one of the first to arrive so there were only a few men there at the time, however within one hour the place was packed. I could hear men talking and having sex.  I even heard humiliating comments about me and my predicament. Shortly after I was in position the piss showers started and the piss showers kept coming almost every other minute with multiple piss showers occurring from multiple men sometimes.  My body was soaked in piss and rarely had a chance to dry.  About 3 hours later and after 150 Piss Showers, my Master came back and removed my blindfold, and told me to get dressed.  Master drove me home with the piss dried on my body and he made me strip naked and sleep on the floor all night so I would be forced to smell all the men’s piss dried on my body throughout the night.

The next morning, Master ordered me to the shower so he could piss shower my body with his fresh piss. Master then ordered me to clean myself up and always be ready for the next men’s event.  If you’re wondering the locked sign is still around my neck and will remain there until Master decides to remove it.  Fortunately for me it can’t be seen when I am wearing a shirt.

In the heart of the sprawling ivy-covered campus of Evergreen College, the sun cast a warm, golden glow over the historic brick buildings. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the distant hum of students chatting excitedly between classes. Christian, a non-binary student with a quiet, observant nature, was walking across the quad, their eyes scanning the crowd as they always did, taking in the world around them with a gentle curiosity. They were known for their kind heart and selfless nature, always ready to lend a helping hand or offer a comforting word. Today, as they made their way to their next class, they noticed a figure standing alone by the old oak tree, the one with the carved initials that dated back to the college’s founding. The figure was tall and broad-shouldered, with a dark, mysterious aura that seemed to absorb the sunlight rather than reflect it. It was Daniel, a member of the notorious Black Rose Gang, known for his secretive nature and closed-off demeanor. Despite his tough exterior, Christian felt an inexplicable pull towards him, a sense of intrigue and curiosity that they couldn’t quite shake off. As they approached, Daniel looked up, his eyes meeting Christian’s with a intensity that seemed to pierce through their very soul. The moment stretched on, a silent conversation passing between them, a spark igniting in the air between them.

As the professor called for attention, Christian and Daniel found themselves standing at the front of the classroom, their biology lab partner assignment printed on the board behind them. Christian’s heart pounded in their chest as they turned to face Daniel, their eyes meeting his with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. Daniel, his dark eyes scanning the room, seemed to be assessing the situation, his expression inscrutable. “So, we’re stuck with each other,” Christian murmured, a small smile playing on their lips. Daniel’s gaze sharpened, his eyes flicking over Christian’s face before he nodded slowly. “Looks that way,” he replied, his voice low and rough. Christian felt a shiver run down their spine at the sound, their body responding to his proximity in a way they couldn’t quite understand. The professor began to hand out materials, but Christian’s focus was entirely on Daniel, their hands brushing as they reached for the same sheet of paper. The touch sent a jolt through them, their fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Daniel looked down at Christian, his eyes darkening, and Christian could see the same spark of desire reflected in his gaze. As the class began, Christian’s mind raced, their body aching with a desire they couldn’t quite comprehend. They could feel Daniel’s gaze on them, intense and hungry, and they knew that this was just the beginning of something far more complex and passionate than they had ever imagined.

As the class ended, Christian’s fingers traced the edge of their biology textbook, their mind racing with the implications of the hidden note they’d discovered. The note, written in a hurried scrawl, hinted at a secret experiment involving the Black Rose Gang and potentially dangerous consequences. Christian looked up, their eyes meeting Daniel’s, who was watching them intently. “What’s that?” Daniel asked, his voice low and curious. Christian hesitated, then handed him the note. Daniel’s brow furrowed as he read, his expression growing darker with each word. “This is bad,” he murmured, looking up at Christian. “We need to find out what’s going on.” He paused, his gaze softening slightly. “I’ll take you on a tour, show you the campus from a different angle. But we need to be careful.” Christian nodded, their heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement. As they stepped out of the classroom, Daniel placed a hand on the small of Christian’s back, guiding them through the crowded halls. The touch sent a shiver down Christian’s spine, their body responding to his proximity in a way they couldn’t quite understand. They walked in silence, the weight of the note pressing heavily on their minds. As they reached the edge of the quad, Daniel stopped, his hand still resting on Christian’s back. He turned them to face him, his eyes dark and intense. “We’re in this together, Christian,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Christian felt a rush of warmth at his words, their heart pounding with a mixture of fear and desire. They nodded, their eyes locked onto Daniel’s, the world around them fading away.

Christian and Daniel found themselves standing beneath the old oak tree, its gnarled branches casting dappled shadows over their faces. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers, and the distant hum of campus life seemed to fade away as they stood there, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them. Daniel’s hand, still resting on Christian’s back, felt warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the tension that hummed beneath the surface. Christian looked up at him, their eyes searching his face for any hint of the secrets he kept hidden. “What do you mean, ‘we’re in this together’?” they asked, their voice barely above a whisper. Daniel’s eyes darkened, and he took a step closer, his hand moving from Christian’s back to cup their cheek. “I mean, Christian,” he said, his voice low and intense, “I’ve never been one to trust easily. But there’s something about you that makes me want to let my guard down.” He paused, his thumb tracing the line of Christian’s jaw. “I’ve seen things, Christian. Done things. I can’t change the past, but I can try to make sure it doesn’t repeat itself.” Christian felt a shiver run down their spine at his words, their heart pounding with a mix of fear and desire. They leaned into his touch, their eyes locked onto his. “I have my own demons, Daniel,” they whispered. “But I want to help you face yours.” Daniel’s eyes softened, and he leaned down, his lips brushing against Christian’s in a gentle, tentative kiss. It was a promise, a vow to face whatever came their way together. As they pulled away, Christian’s hand reached up, tracing the line of Daniel’s jaw, mirroring his earlier touch. “Together,” they whispered, their eyes locked onto his.

As Christian’s fingers traced the line of Daniel’s jaw, they felt a soft rumble in his chest, a low growl that sent a shiver down their spine. Daniel’s eyes darkened, and he leaned in, capturing Christian’s lips in a fierce, hungry kiss. His hand moved from Christian’s cheek to their waist, pulling them closer, their bodies pressing together in a desperate dance of longing. Christian’s hands found their way to Daniel’s chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt, their fingers tracing the edges of his tattoos. Daniel’s other hand moved to Christian’s hair, tangling in the soft locks, his mouth devouring theirs with a passion that left them breathless. Christian could feel the heat of his body, the hardness of his desire pressing against them, and they couldn’t help but moan into his mouth, their own body responding with a need that was both terrifying and exhilarating. Daniel’s hands moved lower, cupping Christian’s buttocks, his fingers digging into their flesh as he pulled them even closer. Christian could feel the world spinning around them, their bodies locked in a dance of pure, unadulterated desire. They knew they should stop, should pull away, but the need was too great, the desire too intense. They wanted this, wanted him, and they didn’t care about the consequences. As Daniel’s lips moved from their mouth to their neck, Christian’s head fell back, a soft cry escaping their lips as they gave themselves over to the moment, to the man who had captured their heart and their soul.

Note: This story is pure fiction. The characters depicted do not exist and are all of legal age. Every event is a product of imagination.

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Chapter 1

Alec was sweating, his brow beaded as he gripped the controller. Tom’s basement was the usual hangout: neon lights, a beat-up couch, scattered beer bottles, and the hum of the PS5 filling the air. Alec, a 22-year-old hulk, six-foot-three of chiseled muscle, had short, tousled brown hair framing a square jaw and green eyes. His tanned skin glistened, biceps flexing with every move. Tom, 23, just as jacked, with close-cropped black hair and dark, predatory eyes, had a chiseled jaw and a tattoo peeking from his shirt collar.

They’d been there for hours, as always, trading insults and laughs while slaughtering each other at FIFA. But tonight, something was off. Tom was quieter, his eyes lingering on Alec too long. Alec noticed but brushed it off, focusing on the screen. “Fuck, Tom, you’re playing like a pussy tonight,” he teased, elbowing him.

Tom set down the controller, his smile widening like a wolf’s. “You know, Alec,” he said, his voice low, almost a hiss, “I think you’re the one about to be the pussy.”

Alec laughed, thinking it was a joke. “What the fuck are you talking about?” But in a flash, Tom was on him, his iron hands pinning Alec’s shoulders to the couch. Alec fought back, pushing with all his muscle. “Tom, get the fuck off!” he roared, struggling. But Tom was a rock, his weight crushing Alec.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Alec yelled, heart pounding. Tom didn’t answer. He leaned in and kissed him hard, lips crushing, tongue invading without permission. Alec froze, shocked, then thrashed, turning his head and spitting. “No, fuck, stop! I’m not a fag!” He kicked, but Tom pinned his legs, laughing.

“Relax, stud,” Tom said, his voice dripping with sadistic amusement. “I know you want it. All you straight guys do, in the end.” He grabbed Alec’s belt, yanking it hard. Alec writhed, panic surging. “Tom, no, fuck! I fuck girls, I don’t want this!” But Tom was relentless, pulling down Alec’s jeans, leaving him in boxers. Alec felt naked, vulnerable, his body shaking with rage and fear.

“I’m not a slut!” Alec shouted, swinging at him. Tom dodged, laughing, and twisted Alec’s arm behind his back, making him scream. “Stop acting tough,” Tom growled in his ear. “You’ve got an ass made for taking dick, Alec. I can feel it already.”

Alec shook his head, face red. “Fuck you! I don’t have a pussy, asshole! I fuck, I don’t get fucked!” But Tom flipped him with brutal force, smashing his face into the couch. Alec kicked, but Tom was too strong. He felt his boxers rip, cold air hitting his skin. “No, Tom, please, fuck, no!” he yelled, voice breaking.

Tom laughed, a cruel sound. “Oh, Alec, I love it when you fight. Makes it sweeter.” Alec heard a belt unbuckle, then Tom’s weight behind him. “Don’t do it, fuck!” Alec screamed, but Tom held him firm, hands gripping his hips like vices. “Please, Tom, I’m straight, I don’t want this!”

“Don’t want it?” Tom said, syrupy but sharp. “Your ass says otherwise, stud. It’s built for this.” Without warning, Tom thrust into him, a searing pain that made Alec scream. He kicked, hands clawing the couch, but Tom didn’t stop. Each thrust was brutal. “Fuck, you’re tight,” Tom groaned, moving. “Like a virgin, Alec. But don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

Alec sobbed. “I’m not a fag! I fuck girls, damn it! Stop!” But Tom leaned in, hot breath on his ear. “Oh, you are. Feel how good you take it? You were born for this, Alec. Your ass is a perfect pussy.” The words hit like punches, confusing him. Alec shook his head, tears burning. “No… it’s not true…”

Tom laughed, slowing. “Fight all you want, stud. Your body doesn’t lie. You love it.” He thrust harder, each move asserting control. Alec tried to deny it, but the pain mixed with a strange, alien sensation that terrified him. “Tell me you love it,” Tom ordered, yanking his hair.

“Fuck you!” Alec spat, voice trembling. But another thrust made him moan, a sound that betrayed him, making Tom laugh. “Oh, yeah, you are,” he said, biting Alec’s neck. “You’re my little slut now, Alec. And I’m just getting started.”

The hours that followed were hell. Alec kept fighting, screaming, but his body was exhausted, his mind a mess. Tom didn’t stop, whispering venomous words. “Feel how you’re made for me? Your ass wants me, Alec. Stop pretending.” Each phrase was a blow, bending him.

When Tom finally pulled out, leaving Alec to collapse on the couch, he was broken. His body ached, his pride shattered. Tom stood, zipped up, and slapped Alec’s ass like a trophy. “See you tomorrow, stud,” he said with a smirk. “You’re mine now.”

Alec stayed there, naked, trembling, breath ragged. Tom’s words echoed, mixing with his rage and confusion. I’m not a fag. I don’t have a pussy. I’m straight. But a small, terrified part of him wondered if it was still true. What the fuck have I become?

Chapter 2

Alec hadn’t slept. Lying in bed, body aching, he stared at the ceiling as the previous night haunted him. Tom had fucked him like a girl, humiliating him, breaking him. Every thrust, every cruel word echoed. “You’re made for taking dick,” Tom had said. Those words made him shudder with disgust and fear. Alec was straight, damn it. He fucked girls, not got fucked. But now everything felt confused.

Facing Tom terrified him, but he couldn’t let it slide. If Tom told their gym buddies, Alec was done. They’d mock him, or worse, want a piece of him. No, he couldn’t let that happen. He had to convince Tom to stop and keep quiet. But Tom was a bastard, a manipulator who loved breaking people. How could he sway him?

Alec got up, body stiff, and looked in the mirror. His ripped muscles, his cocky face, now seemed useless. He felt vulnerable, betrayed by his own body. He dressed in a tight tee and jeans, trying to muster confidence. He had to face Tom today, before it was too late. If he failed, he’d offer a disgusting compromise: blowjobs. Just blowjobs, in exchange for Tom’s promise not to fuck him again. The idea sickened him, but it was better than being pinned like a slut.

It was noon when Alec reached Tom’s house. He rang the bell, hands shaking. Tom opened the door, smirk plastered on, black hair damp from a shower. He wore a tank top showing off his biceps and shorts. “Hey, stud,” he said, leaning against the frame. “Back so soon? Craving more?”

Alec clenched his fists, face red with rage and shame. “We need to talk, Tom. Inside. Now.”

Tom raised an eyebrow, amused, but stepped aside. “After you, princess.”

Alec ignored the jab and entered, heart pounding. The house was quiet, Tom’s parents at work. They stopped in the living room, and Alec turned to him, trying to keep his voice steady. “What happened yesterday… it’s never happening again, Tom. I’m straight, fuck. You know that. I’m not one of your sluts.”

Tom crossed his arms, smile unwavering. “Straight, huh? Your ass was singing a different tune last night, Alec. I popped your cherry good, and you loved it.”

Alec shook his head, disgust rising. “I didn’t love it, asshole! You forced me! I fuck girls, I don’t do that shit! You fucked with my head, but it stops here.” He stepped forward, trying to look threatening. “And you don’t tell anyone, Tom. If you do, I swear I’ll fuck you up.”

Tom laughed, a low, cruel sound. “Oh, stud, you’re cute when you play tough. But you know what? I don’t have to say shit. I can see it in your eyes—you’re thinking about it. Your ass is mine, Alec, whether you like it or not.” He stepped closer, dark eyes piercing. “And you know why? Because you’re built for this. I feel it every time I touch you.”

Alec backed up, panic gripping his chest. “Fuck you, Tom! I’m not a fag! I don’t have a pussy, damn it!” But his voice shook, and Tom noticed.

“A man, huh?” Tom said, closing in until Alec was trapped against the wall. “Men don’t moan like you did last night, Alec. Men don’t get their asses wet when I fuck them.” He reached out, brushing Alec’s chest, and Alec shoved him back hard.

“Don’t touch me, fuck!” he yelled, breath short. “I’m telling you, I don’t want this! Stop, Tom, or I swear—”

“What’ll you do?” Tom cut in, tone hard. “Hit me? Cry to your buddies? And tell them what? That I fucked you and you didn’t stop me?” He leaned in, hot breath on Alec’s ear. “You can’t stop me, stud. And you know it.”

Alec shoved again, heart exploding. “I’m not your toy, Tom! You can’t force me to do this shit!” But Tom grabbed his wrists, pinning him to the wall.

“Forcing you?” Tom said, smirk returning. “I’m not forcing you, Alec. Your body wants it. Bet if I touch you now, you’re already ready for me.” His hand slid toward Alec’s belt, and Alec thrashed, panic choking him.

“No! Enough!” he screamed, breaking free. “Listen, Tom. If you really want… I’ll give you a blowjob, okay? But no more fucking. Never. And you don’t tell anyone.”

Tom stared, smile widening. “A blowjob, huh? Cute, Alec. Real cute.” He stepped forward, and Alec tensed. “But you don’t set the rules. I take what I want. And I want that tight ass of yours, over and over.” He paused, eyeing him like prey. “But maybe I’ll take your offer… for now. Get on your knees.”

Alec shook his head, stomach twisting. “No, Tom. I said I’d do it only if you stop fucking me. Promise.”

Tom laughed, closing in. “Promise? I don’t promise shit, stud. But if you don’t kneel now, maybe I’ll call a couple buddies and tell them how good you were last night. Wanna risk it?”

Alec felt the world collapse. His legs shook, his mind a storm of fear and rage. He didn’t want to. He couldn’t. But the thought of Tom talking, humiliating him in front of everyone, was unbearable. Slowly, heart breaking, he sank to his knees. “You’re a bastard,” he whispered, voice cracked.

Tom stroked his hair, a gesture dripping with dominance. “Good boy, Alec. Knew you’d get it. Now open that mouth and show me how good you suck. But don’t kid yourself: your ass is still mine.”

Chapter 3

The living room was silent except for the wet, muffled sounds filling the air. Alec knelt, face twisted in disgust, lips wrapped around Tom’s thick, throbbing cock. His jaw ached, mouth flooded with a salty taste that made him gag. Tom stood, legs spread, one hand on Alec’s head, guiding him slowly. Tom’s cock, long and veiny, glistened with spit under the dim light. Alec kept his eyes shut, trying to block out Tom’s smirk.

“Fuck, Alec, you’re a pro,” Tom murmured, voice thick with mockery. “Born to suck dick. Sure you’re straight?” His fingers tightened in Alec’s hair, forcing him deeper. Alec gagged, fists clenched, body trembling with rage and humiliation. He wanted to spit, to scream, but fear kept him rooted. If he didn’t do what Tom wanted, his secret would be exposed.

With his free hand, Tom grabbed his phone, thumbs flying across the screen while Alec, too focused on not choking, noticed nothing. Tom sent a message to Luca and Mattia, two gym bruisers. The text was brutal: Guys, get to my place now. Got a fag pretending to be straight but dying to suck cock and take it up the ass. We’ll fuck him and make him blow us all night, humiliate him good. Then we trap him: either he comes to us whenever we want and gets fucked, or everyone knows he’s a slut. Hurry, I’m keeping him busy with my dick.

He sent it with a smirk, pocketing the phone. “Slow down, stud,” he said to Alec, easing his grip. “Make it last. Don’t want to blow too soon.” His voice hid a cruelty Alec felt in his bones.

Alec pulled back for a moment, gasping, spit dripping down his chin. “Tom, fuck, I told you I’d do this only if you stop fucking me,” he slurred, voice hoarse. “I’m not a fag. I… I fuck girls, I don’t want this shit.” His eyes begged Tom for mercy.

Tom chuckled, stroking his cheek. “Oh, Alec, stop lying to yourself. Look how hard you’re working. Bet you’re loving it.” He pinched Alec’s chin, forcing his gaze up. “Back to work, come on.”

Alec shook his head, stomach churning. “I don’t like it, asshole. I’m straight. I don’t have a pussy, damn it!” But his words sounded weak, and Tom knew it. With a groan, Alec leaned back in, lips closing around Tom’s cock again, desperate to finish.

Then, the front door slammed open, followed by male voices and raucous laughter. Alec froze, heart racing. He tried to pull back, but Tom held his head firm. “Chill, stud,” Tom said, amused. “Just a couple friends. Keep going.”

Alec’s eyes widened, panic choking him. “No… Tom, fuck, no!” he mumbled, but Tom pushed him down hard. Heavy footsteps approached, and Luca and Mattia walked in. Luca, a giant with buzzed hair, and Mattia, leaner but with arms like steel, stopped to stare, eyes gleaming with cruel lust.

“Fuck, Tom, what a show,” Luca said, laughing. “The straight fag on his knees. Look at him suck.”

Alec tried to stand, face burning, but Tom held him down. “Don’t be shy, Alec,” Tom said to his friends. “He says he’s straight, but check out how he goes at it. And his ass? A perfect pussy.” He turned to Alec. “Right, stud? We’re all having fun tonight.”

“No!” Alec screamed, thrashing, but Tom slapped him, silencing him. Luca and Mattia laughed, stepping closer. Alec felt the world crumble. It wasn’t just Tom now. He was trapped.

“First a blowjob,” Mattia said, unbuckling his belt. “Then I’m tearing that ass up.” Alec shook his head, tears streaming. “No… please… I’m not a fag…” But his words drowned in their laughter. Luca grabbed his arms, while Mattia yanked down his jeans. Tom sat back, cock hard, watching with satisfaction.

“Shut up, Alec,” Tom said, voice cold. “Tonight, you’re our slut. And if you don’t play nice, tomorrow everyone knows you love sucking dick and taking it up the ass.” He leaned in, hot breath on Alec’s ear. “Be good, and maybe we keep it quiet.”

Alec screamed, trying to break free, but Luca held him tight, while Mattia stood in front, cock out. “Open your mouth, fag,” he growled. Alec shook his head, but another slap from Tom broke him. With a choked sob, he opened his mouth, and Mattia thrust in. After a few minutes, Luca took his place, forcing Alec to suck him too. Alec had no strength left, mind fogged.

Then, the worst. Luca shoved him face-down on the couch, while Mattia spread his legs. “No… please…” Alec sobbed, but Tom leaned in, voice icy. “Quiet, Alec. Take it, or tomorrow you’re the talk of the town.” Mattia entered him without warning, a sharp pain that made Alec scream, while Luca held his head down. Then they switched, and Luca took him, each thrust a humiliation.

Tom watched, stroking himself slowly. “See, Alec? You’re made for this. From now on, when we call, you come. Blowjobs, ass, whatever we want. Or everyone knows you’re our whore.” He whispered: “Bet you’ll love it soon.”

Alec couldn’t answer. His body was a wreck, his mind shattered. As Luca and Mattia kept going, laughing and insulting him, he wondered if he’d ever escape this cage.

Chapter 4

the third. Every protest had been drowned out by their laughter. Now, the three bastards were taking a break, sprawled out like kings with beers in hand, smug grins plastered across their faces.

Alec, breath ragged, pulled himself up, muscles screaming. He felt filthy, broken. But a spark of desperation pushed him to speak, voice weak but clinging to a shred of hope. “Guys… you had your fun, right? Can I… can I go now, please?” His green eyes, clouded with unshed tears, searched theirs, begging for a reprieve.

Tom, lounging on the couch with arms behind his head, burst into a cruel laugh. “Go? Fuck, Alec, you’re not ditching your men so soon, are you?” He stood, his half-hard cock bulging in his shorts. “We’ve got all night to train that mouth and your new pussy. By morning, you’ll be a pro.” He leaned in, smirk widening. “We’re starting again soon, stud. You’ve got a lot more cum to take, in your ass and down your throat.”

Alec shook his head, panic clawing at his chest. “No… Tom, fuck, please… I can’t take more…” His words faded under Tom’s icy stare, a look that crushed any resistance.

Luca, slouched in a chair, rubbed his cock through his jeans. “What the fuck are you whining about, fag? Think you can bail after getting us off like that? Your ass is ours now.” Mattia, beside him, nodded, gripping his slick dick. “Damn right. Unless you want us spilling how much you love sucking cock, huh?”

Alec felt ice in his veins. Their threat, always the same, kept him caged. If they talked, his life was over. Gym, friends, reputation—gone. He swallowed, hands shaking. “Please… don’t tell anyone… I’ll do… I’ll do what you want, just let me go…”

Tom stepped closer, crouching in front of him. “Oh, Alec, that’s not how it works. You do what we want, period. And tonight, we want that tight ass and that slut mouth.” He slapped Alec’s face, not hard, but enough to make him flinch. “Now go clean up. You gotta be fresh for our cocks, right, boys?”

Luca chuckled, yanking his dick. “Fuck yeah, fag. Scrub that ass clean for me.” Mattia nodded, stroking himself. “Move it, little bitch.”

Alec stared, shame choking him. He didn’t want to obey, but their eyes pinned him, and the fear of what they’d do—or say—was stronger than anything. Slowly, legs wobbling, he stood, stumbling toward the downstairs bathroom. Each step was a humiliation, their laughter trailing him like a shadow.

In the bathroom, he shut the door and leaned against the sink, breath short. He looked in the mirror and barely recognized himself. Brown hair plastered to his forehead, green eyes dull, face etched with exhaustion and despair. He turned on the faucet, cold water splashing his face, but it couldn’t wash away what had happened. He cleaned himself as ordered, body on autopilot while his mind screamed. I’m not this. I’m not a slut. I’m straight. But Tom, Luca, and Mattia’s words had burrowed into him, poisoning his thoughts.

He returned to the living room, skin damp, heart heavy as lead. The three were ready, cocks hard, empty beer cans littering the table. Tom stood, smirk unwavering. “Good boy, stud. All clean and ready. Come here, we’re starting again.”

Chapter 5

Tom grabbed Alec’s arm and yanked him toward the couch, his muscle leaving no room for escape. Alec stumbled, panic strangling him. Tom sat, legs spread, his thick cock jutting from his lowered shorts. With a predatory grin, he pulled Alec onto his lap, making him straddle him.

Alec knew instantly, terror flooding him. “No… Tom, fuck, no…” he stammered, face pale. He understood what Tom wanted: to impale him, right there, like a whore. He tried to wrench free, hands pushing against Tom’s chest, but Tom held him tight, fingers digging into his hips.

“Shut it, stud,” Tom growled, voice thick with amusement. “You’re gonna sit, line up with my cock, and impale yourself. Then I’ll fuck you good, and while I’m fucking you, those two…” He nodded at Luca and Mattia, who were standing, cocks in hand, “will get up on the couch. You’ll suck them, one after the other, then start over. Got it?” He leaned in, hot breath on Alec’s ear. “You’ll be our perfect little slut tonight.”

Luca roared with laughter. “Fuck, Tom, this is art. Big-shot Alec on your lap, getting fucked with a dick in his mouth. No one would believe it!” Mattia nodded. “A jock like him, turned cocksucker. Look at his face, he’s fucking wrecked!”

Alec’s face burned, humiliation searing him. “No… please… I’m not a slut…” His voice cracked, tears welling. “I’m straight, damn it! I fuck girls, I don’t do this shit!” But his protests only fueled their laughter, louder and crueler.

“Straight, huh?” Tom said, yanking him down, his cock pressing against Alec’s ass. “Girls don’t moan like you, Alec. Quit talking and sit.” With brutal force, he guided Alec down, the head of his cock forcing entry. Alec screamed, pain ripping through him, but Tom gave no mercy, pushing him until he was fully impaled. “Fuck, you’re still tight,” Tom groaned, starting to move.

Alec sobbed, hands clawing Tom’s thighs. “Stop… Tom, please…” But Tom ignored him, hands on his hips, guiding him up and down. “Suck, now,” he ordered, pointing to Luca and Mattia, standing on the couch.

Luca grabbed Alec’s hair, jerking his head toward his cock. “Open your mouth, fag,” he snarled. Alec shook his head, tears streaming. “No… I don’t want…” But another sharp slap from Tom broke him. With a choked sob, he opened his mouth, and Luca thrust in. After a few minutes, Luca pulled back, and Mattia took his place, his cock filling Alec’s throat.

The three laughed, insults mixing with moans. “Look at this whore,” Mattia said, thrusting deeper. “Cock in his ass, cock in his mouth.” Luca nodded, jerking off. “Wonder what your gym buddies would say seeing you like this.”

Alec couldn’t respond. The pain, the humiliation, their cocks’ taste were destroying him. Every thrust from Tom reminded him what he’d become, every laugh carved a hole in his soul. He, the jock, was used like a toy, treated like a slut.

Tom sped up, hands gripping Alec’s hips. “Fuck, Alec, you’re made for this,” he panted. “Your pussy’s perfect, and that mouth… keep it up, and maybe we’ll keep you just for us.” He laughed, a sound that chilled Alec. “Or maybe not. Maybe we’ll pass you around, what do you think?”

Chapter 6

Alec couldn’t believe it, his traitorous body moving on Tom’s cock, each thrust a humiliation. He, a ripped jock, an athlete, was reduced to this: on a man’s lap, fucked like a whore. His arms, wrapped around Tom’s neck as ordered, trembled, face pressed against his shoulder, tears soaking his skin. Luca and Mattia, on the couch, took turns in his mouth, laughing at his downfall.

Tom’s words had frozen him: “Your pussy’s perfect, and that mouth… keep it up, and maybe we’ll keep you just for us.” Then, with a laugh, he’d added: “Or maybe not. Maybe we’ll pass you around, what do you think?”

No. No. It couldn’t happen. The circle of those who knew couldn’t grow. If others found out, his life was over. Panic overwhelmed him, and with a desperate move, Alec pulled back, Luca’s cock slipping from his mouth with a wet pop. “No, please!” he screamed, voice broken. “I’m begging you, don’t tell anyone! Don’t pass me to anyone, my reputation… please!” His eyes darted between Tom, Luca, and Mattia, pleading. “Don’t make me fuck others, I beg you!”

Tom, still inside him, slowed, a smug smile curling his lips. He turned to Luca and Mattia, tone mock-thoughtful. “Boys, what do we do? I’d love to let a few buddies fuck him. Like Marco or Davide. But if we decide otherwise, I’m cool with it.”

Alec, still on Tom’s lap, turned to him, body shaking. “No, Tom, please, don’t do it,” he begged. Without thinking, he gripped Tom’s shoulders, squeezing as if he could convince him through sheer desperation. “Don’t tell anyone, I’m begging you…”

Tom laughed, relishing the sight of the alpha jock reduced to a pleading wreck. “Dunno, Alec,” he said, mocking. “It’d be fun to keep you just for us, right? What do you think, boys?” He looked at Luca and Mattia, who grinned. Luca shrugged. “I say he’s too hot not to share. But maybe we keep him for now.” Mattia nodded. “Yeah, if he behaves.”

Alec felt a flicker of hope, fragile as a thread. He pressed harder on Tom’s shoulders, mind screaming. They can’t tell anyone. But Tom, thrilled to see the jock broken, pushed the humiliation further. He leaned in, hot breath on Alec’s ear. “Here’s the deal, Alec. While I talk to them, keep moving on my cock. And throw your arms around my neck, hug me. So I can look at Luca and Mattia and discuss your future. Do it.”

Alec shook his head, stomach churning. “No… Tom, fuck, no…” But Tom’s glare hardened, the unspoken threat hitting like a fist. With a choked sob, Alec started moving, each motion agony, Tom’s cock filling him. His trembling hands rose, hesitating, before settling on Tom’s neck. He hugged him, face buried in his shoulder, tears soaking his skin. It was total surrender, an athlete broken.

Tom laughed, triumphant. “Fuck, look at this,” he said to Luca and Mattia. “Moving on his own, hugging me… he’s my little bitch now. So, keep him for us or let him get passed around?” His hands slid to Alec’s hips, guiding him faster.

Chapter 7

Alec was stunned, his body betraying him as he rode Tom’s cock, each thrust a soul-crushing humiliation. He, a muscular athlete, was reduced to this: on a man’s lap, fucked like a slut. His arms, wrapped around Tom’s neck, shook, face pressed against his shoulder, tears wetting his skin. Luca and Mattia took turns in his mouth, their laughter echoing his ruin.

Tom’s words had chilled him: “Your pussy’s perfect, and that mouth… keep it up, and maybe we’ll keep you just for us.” Then, laughing, he’d added: “Or maybe not. Maybe we’ll pass you around, what do you think?”

No. It couldn’t happen. If more people knew, his life was done. Panic surged, and Alec yanked back, Luca’s cock slipping out with a wet sound. “No, please!” he screamed, voice shattered. “I’m begging, don’t tell anyone! Don’t pass me to anyone, my reputation… please!” His eyes flicked between Tom, Luca, and Mattia, desperate. “Don’t make me fuck others, I’m begging!”

Tom, still buried in him, slowed, a smug grin spreading. He turned to Luca and Mattia, tone fake-pensive. “Guys, what’s the call? I’d love to let some buddies fuck him. Marco, Davide, maybe. But if we go another way, I’m game.”

Alec, trembling on Tom’s lap, faced him. “No, Tom, please, don’t do it,” he pleaded. Instinctively, he gripped Tom’s shoulders, squeezing in desperation. “Don’t tell anyone, I’m begging…”

Tom laughed, savoring the broken alpha. “Dunno, Alec,” he taunted. “Could be nice to keep you just for us, yeah? What do you say, boys?” He glanced at Luca and Mattia, grinning. Luca shrugged. “He’s too fine not to share. But maybe we hold onto him for now.” Mattia nodded. “If he’s good.”

Alec clung to a sliver of hope. He pressed harder on Tom’s shoulders, mind racing. They can’t tell anyone. But Tom, delighted by the jock’s confusion, pushed further. He leaned in, breath hot. “Here’s what you do, Alec. Keep riding my cock while I talk to them. Throw your arms around my neck, hug me tight. So I can see Luca and Mattia and figure out your future. Go.”

Alec shook his head, stomach twisting. “No… Tom, fuck, no…” But Tom’s eyes turned cold, the threat clear. With a broken sob, Alec moved, each thrust agony, Tom’s cock stretching him. His shaking hands rose, hesitating, before wrapping around Tom’s neck. He hugged him, face buried, tears soaking through. It was utter defeat, an athlete crushed.

Tom laughed, victorious. “Fuck, check this out,” he told Luca and Mattia. “Riding me, hugging me… a total bitch. So, keep him or pass him around?” His hands gripped Alec’s hips, forcing him faster.

Tom sped up, hands squeezing Alec’s hips, breath heavy. Then, with a sadistic grin, he leaned in. “Alec, I’m about to blow,” he growled. “Gonna dump another load in your ass. You’ll love having me in you forever, like a brand. Tell me, you happy?”

Alec’s heart stopped. He knew they were testing the deal, forcing him to submit fully. Every fiber screamed to fight, to yell he wasn’t happy, that he was straight, that he hated it. But Tom’s threat—spilling everything, passing him to others—kept him trapped. Tongue burning, Alec lowered his gaze, tears streaking, and whispered, “Yeah, Tom… cum in me and brand me. So I’ll have your load in me.” Each word was torture, a piece of himself dying.

Tom laughed, deep and satisfied. “Good boy, Alec. You’re getting it. Starting to love it, huh?” He smacked Alec’s ass, making Luca and Mattia chuckle. Alec shut his eyes, disgust twisting his gut, but kept moving.

Tom slowed. “Now, before I cum, since you’re our slut, we expect two things.” He paused, letting the silence crush Alec. “First: shave your body, neck down. We like our pussies smooth, got it?”

Alec’s eyes widened, panic rising. Shaving completely? Another humiliation. “Tom… please… can I keep my pubes?” he stammered, trying to bargain.

Tom shook his head, firm. “Nope, Alec. Everything. Cock, pubes, chest, legs—smooth as fuck. You’re our slut, not a hairy dude.” Luca laughed. “Yeah, fag, we want a clean pussy.” Mattia nodded. Alec’s tears welled, but he nodded, head down.

Tom leaned in, grin widening. “Second thing, Alec. No pussy for you for a while. No chasing girls, no fucking. We’ll see later. But with our cocks fucking you, you won’t need to fuck with your dick. We’ll make you cum with your new pussy.” He paused, eyes cruel. “We’ll hit your prostate so hard, you’ll love taking dick up the ass.”

Alec froze. No girls? His world, his identity—hitting on women, being the alpha—was ripped away. “No… Tom, please… I’m straight…” But Tom grabbed his face, forcing eye contact.

“Cut it, Alec,” he snapped. “No ‘I’m straight’ bullshit. You’re our slut. Now ride harder. I want to cum while you look at me and smile.”

Alec obeyed, pain tearing through him, and forced a smile, lips quivering. Tom groaned, hands clamping Alec’s hips, and with a final thrust, exploded inside him, his hot cum filling Alec like a mark, as promised. Luca and Mattia laughed, clapping. “Fuck, what a whore,” Luca said.

Tom, panting, stroked Alec’s face, a cruel gesture. “Good job, Alec. You get it now. Go shave, then come back. We’ve got all night to train you.” He pointed to the bathroom.

Alec, legs buckling, slid off Tom’s lap, mind shattered. As he headed to the bathroom, their words crushed him. No girls. No hair. Just them. Closing the door, one truth burned: he didn’t know if he’d ever escape.

Chapter 8

Alec shut the bathroom door, heart hammering. He leaned against the sink, breath short, body trembling. Tom’s cum dripped from his ass, a hot, humiliating trickle down his thighs, proof of his defeat. He looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize the man staring back: brown hair matted, eyes dead, face scarred by shame. He, the ripped jock, the straight stud, was their slut. They’d use him like their pussy, and he had to tiptoe to avoid pissing them off. One wrong move, and they’d spill everything, ruining his life.

Hands shaking, he grabbed the razor and started shaving, as ordered. Neck down, every hair had to go. The blade’s scrape was the only sound, save his pounding heart and their muffled laughs from the next room. Each stroke was a humiliation, another chunk of his manhood stripped. He shaved his chest, legs, pubes—everything. His body, once a badge of strength, was now their plaything. As he shaved, one truth haunted him: he had no choice.

In the next room, Tom, Luca, and Mattia lounged on the couch, beers in hand, smug as hell. Tom, black hair damp with sweat, leaned back. “Boys,” he said, smug, “we’ve got ourselves a golden pussy.”

Luca laughed, nodding. “Fuck yeah. Golden mouth, golden ass, all on a killer body. Even as straight guys, we gotta admit he’s hot as fuck.”

Mattia shrugged, rubbing his cock. “Hot or not, he’s ours. Does whatever we want.”

Tom agreed. “Exactly. But we’re not done. We fuck him more, fuck him up good, and when he’s too dazed to think, we get him to sign these.” He pulled a stack of papers from a drawer, waving them.

Mattia raised a brow. “What the fuck are those?”

Tom laughed, cruel. “A contract. Alec signs over his image rights for us to make, post, and sell gay porn. With that face, that body, he’s a cash cow. We’ll get rich while he gets stuffed with dicks.” He paused. “Once he signs, we can make him film with other guys. Work him hard, tons of cocks fucking the hot straight stud.”

Luca’s eyes widened. “Fuck, Tom, you’re a genius. But won’t he refuse? That’d expose him, the one thing we said we wouldn’t do.”

Tom had it all planned. “We’ll tell him the videos go overseas, no one he knows will see. And check this.” He pointed to a clause. “There’s a fat penalty if he bails. He can’t afford it, and he’ll be screwed. With the internet, someone’ll recognize him anyway. Then we can hype his career: ‘Alec, the straight guy who gets fucked for cash.’”

Mattia laughed, raising his beer. “Holy shit, Tom. We keep him, fuck him, and cash in. Perfect.”

Luca nodded. “And he can’t do shit. He’s ours.”

Tom set the papers down, satisfied. “Back to work. When he’s out of the bathroom, we fuck him till he’s brain-dead. Then he signs.”

Chapter 9

Alec staggered back to the living room, body spent, mind a haze. Tom, Luca, and Mattia had fucked him relentlessly, switching between his ass and mouth, laughing and insulting him. Every muscle ached, his shaved skin red, his pride in tatters. He wasn’t the alpha jock anymore. He was their slut, and exhaustion had left him a hollow shell.

Tom grabbed his arm and pulled him up. “Come here, stud,” he said, voice dripping control. He took Alec’s hand, another humiliation, and led him to a wooden table. Tom pulled out a chair, sat, and yanked Alec onto his lap, impaling him again on his hard cock. Alec groaned, pain tearing through him, too weak to resist. Tom’s cock dug into him, a reminder of his submission.

Alec was drained, head lolling. Tom, exploiting his daze, shoved a pen in his hand and slid a stack of papers in front of him. “Be good, and we’ll let you sleep,” he said, falsely soothing. “Or we fuck you for hours more. What’s it gonna be?”

Alec shook his head, tears welling. “No… please… I’ll be good… no more fucking, please…” His voice was a broken whisper, desperation choking him.

“Sure,” Tom said, grin spreading. “Just sign these papers, and you’re free to go. Easy, right?” He pointed to the documents.

Alec, mind fogged, tried to focus. “What… what are they?” he mumbled, instinct urging him to ask. But Tom, still inside him, squeezed his hips, shifting to distract him. “Chill, Alec. It’s just the deal we made. You’re ours, you do what we want. No biggie. Sign.”

Alec, too dazed, had no strength to fight. Tom’s cock, the threat, the exhaustion—it all forced him to give in. Hand trembling, he took the pen and signed where Tom pointed, scrawling his name without reading. Each signature was a nail in his coffin, but he didn’t know it.

Done, Tom smacked his ass and lifted him off. “Good boy, Alec. You can go,” he said, satisfied. “See you soon.”

Alec, wobbling, grabbed his torn clothes and stumbled out, mind blank. He didn’t recall getting home. He collapsed on his bed and slept for hours, body and soul crushed.

Two days later, Alec had recovered, somewhat. The physical pain had eased, but the humiliation burned. He hoped, naively, that the nightmare was over, or at least less brutal. But that hope shattered when his phone rang. It was Tom.

“Alec, get to my place. Now,” he said, voice cold and commanding. Alec’s heart sank. He assumed they wanted to fuck him again. Legs heavy, he dressed and went, fear twisting his gut.

When he arrived, Tom, Luca, and Mattia waited in the living room, sitting like they owned the world. Tom pointed to a chair. “Sit, Alec. We’ve got a surprise.”

Alec, confused, obeyed, body tense. “What… what do you want?” he asked, voice shaky.

Tom grinned, a smile that froze Alec’s blood. “We got you a job, stud. Porn star. In gay videos.” He grabbed a tablet and showed the papers Alec had signed. “You gave us your image rights. This contract lets us make and sell videos with you. You’re perfect for the role of the straight slut who gets fucked.”

Alec’s eyes widened, panic surging. “No… I didn’t sign for that…” He stammered, heart pounding. “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

Luca laughed. “Relax, fag. The videos go overseas. No one you know will see. And there’s a big penalty if you refuse.”

Mattia leaned in, smirk cruel. “With that body and face, you’ll make bank. Well, we will. You’ll just take dicks.”

Alec shook his head, hands trembling. “No… please… don’t do this…” But Tom cut him off. “Shut it, Alec. You signed. You’re ours. If you don’t play ball, the videos go online here, where everyone’ll know you.”

Alec felt himself crumble. No escape. “What… what do I have to do?” he whispered, voice broken.

Tom grinned, triumphant. “Get ready. We start shooting tomorrow. Smile, Alec. You’re a star.”

Chapter 10

Alec felt like a condemned man entering the makeshift studio in an abandoned warehouse on the city’s edge. The air stank of old paint and sweat, neon lights glaring on a crude set: a ping-pong table, cameras on tripods, a mattress with a black sheet in the corner. Alec wore a tight tee and gym shorts, as ordered, his chiseled, shaved body a weapon he no longer controlled. He’d become their pussy, their cash machine, and the first set was the most humiliating yet.

Tom had laid it out the night before, smirking. “You’ll play a fake ping-pong match with two Black athletes. You lose, talk shit, act like a straight asshole. Then they grab you and fuck you. Hard.” He’d tossed Alec a tube of lube. “Use it, Alec. A lot. And get it inside. Those guys have big, thick dicks, and they know how to use them.” Luca and Mattia had laughed as Alec, shaking, took the lube, face burning. He wasn’t a man anymore.

Entering the studio, reality hit like a fist. The two athletes were there, mountains of muscle with broad shoulders, ripped arms, and thighs like tree trunks. One, with dark, glossy skin and a bicep tattoo, eyed Alec with a grin that spelled trouble. The other, dreads tied back, warmed his hands like a boxer before a fight. Both wore tight boxers, leaving nothing to the imagination. Alec’s blood ran cold. Their cocks, even soft, were monstrous. He knew they’d tear him apart, fuck him like no one ever had.

Tom, on a folding chair by the cameras, clapped. “Let’s go, Alec, don’t be shy. You know the script. Act like a prick, lose, then they have fun. Smile for the camera, got it?” Luca and Mattia, behind him, snickered, phones ready to record for their own kicks.

Alec swallowed, legs shaking. He’d spent the morning preparing, using lube until he felt degraded alone. But facing these giants, he felt small. “I… I can’t…” he whispered, but Tom cut him off. “You can, Alec. Or want these videos online where everyone sees? Move.”

Heart in his throat, Alec approached the table, racquet in hand. The athletes, introduced as Denzel and Malik, watched him like wolves. “Ready to lose, pretty boy?” Denzel said, voice deep. Malik chuckled, bouncing the ball. “Bet you’re better at taking dick than playing.”

Alec gripped the racquet, face red. He had to play the part. “Fuck you,” he growled. “I’ll kick your asses at ping-pong, you filthy fucks.” The words burned, not because he meant them, but because he knew what came next. The script: trash-talk, lose, then…

The game was a slaughter. Denzel and Malik were fast, precise, and Alec, mind clouded by fear, had no chance. Each point lost, their grins grew hungrier. “Fuck, you suck,” Malik said, scoring again. “Talk big, but play like a bitch.”

Alec, per the script, slammed the racquet down. “Fuck you, you’re cheating scum!” His voice shook. The game ended fast, Alec humiliated.

Denzel tossed his racquet and circled the table. “Got a smart mouth for talking shit, fag,” he said, menacing. Malik grabbed Alec’s arm. “You lost, now you pay.”

Alec tried to pull free. “No… please…” But it was the script, and Tom nodded, pleased. Denzel and Malik dragged him to the mattress, ripping off his tee and shorts. Alec, naked and trembling, hit his knees, their massive cocks in his face.

“Suck,” Denzel ordered, shoving his head. Alec, tears streaming, obeyed, mouth stretching painfully. Malik laughed, stroking himself. “Fuck, he’s a real slut.”

After a bit, they threw him face-down on the mattress. Denzel got behind, cock pressing. “Relax, fag, or I’ll hurt you,” he growled. Alec screamed as Denzel entered, pain ripping him apart. Malik held his head, forcing him to suck. Then they swapped, Malik’s thicker cock stretching Alec beyond belief.

Tom, Luca, and Mattia watched, laughing. “Perfect, Alec!” Tom shouted. “Smile, you’re a star!” Alec, through tears, forced a smile, body surrendering as his mind collapsed.

Chapter 11

Alec was in disbelief, body shaking, breath broken as Denzel and Malik’s monstrous cocks tore him open. Each thrust felt like a sledgehammer, a burning agony. On his back in missionary, with Malik fucking him brutally, Alec begged. “Please… take it out… I can’t…” His words vanished in Tom, Luca, and Mattia’s laughter and Malik’s grunts, ignoring him.

Malik, sweat dripping, locked eyes with him. “Wrap your arms around my neck and hold on,” he commanded, voice deep. Alec, dazed, obeyed, hands trembling as they gripped Malik’s neck. He didn’t know what was coming.

Fluidly, Malik knelt, pulling Alec up. Then, hands under Alec’s thighs, near his ass, he stood, cock still buried inside. Alec’s eyes bulged, panic surging. He was suspended, his jacked body hanging from Malik’s neck and the massive cock impaling him. His legs dangled, muscles useless, as Malik’s cock stretched him. He felt Malik’s balls slap his ass, each hit a humiliation that made him groan in pain and shame.

Denzel, nearby, laughed hard. “Fuck, look at that hole! Wide open, red and swollen, hugging Malik’s cock. Looks like a mouth with lips!” He pointed at Alec’s ass, lube and sweat glistening, as Tom zoomed in.

Alec, fucked in that impossible position, despaired. “No… please…” he sobbed, but no one cared. Tom shouted, “Smile, Alec! You’re a star!” Luca and Mattia laughed, phones recording.

Then, Alec felt heat at his back, Denzel’s chiseled chest pressing against him. He thought it was more taunting, but Denzel leaned in, breath hot. “What if I shove my cock in too, with Malik?” he whispered, cruelly amused.

Alec realized, terror paralyzing him. “No! No, please!” he screamed, trying to climb off, kicking. “Don’t do it… you’ll tear me apart!” But Malik held him, hands like steel, cock still inside, as Denzel positioned himself behind.

Alec felt Denzel’s cockhead press against his wrecked hole, trying to join Malik’s. He screamed, body thrashing. “No! You’ll kill me!” But Denzel didn’t stop, and with a slow, ruthless push, his cockhead forced in. Alec’s mouth gaped, eyes wide, a silent scream stuck in his throat. The pain was unbearable, like being split in two. Denzel’s head was in, beside Malik’s, Alec’s hole stretched to the breaking point.

Malik laughed, moving again, while Denzel pushed slowly. “Fuck, tight even with two,” Denzel grunted. “Relax, fag, or we’ll really hurt you.” Alec couldn’t speak, pain stealing his breath, body hanging between the two giants. His legs dangled, his ass burned, every move pure torment.

Tom, thrilled, zoomed in. “This is gold! Alec, perfect slut! Two cocks in your ass!” Luca and Mattia cheered. “Look at that hole, it’s done!” Mattia said. Luca added, “Bet he’ll never want pussy again.”

Alec, tears streaming, was a wreck. He was their pussy, their slut, and these two were fucking him like no one ever had. As Denzel and Malik kept going, filling him, one truth remained: no escape. He was theirs, forever.

End of the Story ?

The science professor was walking around the room, watching and directing the groups of 4 as we attempted to follow his formula on the board.  Bobby and I were working with Mike and Tim, who sat behind us in the chem lab.  Tim oversaw our group, and I was taking the notes as Mike and Bobby did the hands-on work. 

“Dude, will you concentrate on what we’re doing here!”  Tim said to his lab partner Mike.

“Fuck you, I so have to take a piss.  Didn’t we all just down 3 bottles of water before coming to class?  I guess my bladder might not be as big as yours, but my cock’s certainly is, so fuck off!”  Mike said jokingly, as his leg kept a nervous tapping motion on the floor

“Alex, would you take care of him?”  Bobby demanded

I looked at him with this ‘fuck you’ look and then looked over at Mike.  I knew that he was desperate, I could see it in his eyes.  And he was so fucking attractive!  I would love to have his cock in my mouth; there was no denying that.  But there was no way in hell I was going to get on my knees right here in front of my group and the whole class and suck down this guy’s piss, no matter how hot he was!   Especially since the professor was walking around checking in on us. 

I got up…”meet me in the 3rd stall” I whispered and started to get up.

“Dude, we you can’t leave if we want to finish this experiment on time.”  Tim said.

My cock was so hard in my jean, just thinking about Mike’s cock and what his piss would taste like.  I looked at Bobby, and he motioned for me to get under the table.  I gave him another annoyed look, until I heard Mike moan in pain because of the pressure on his bladder.  Fuck it, I thought to myself, and I slid down and got under the table, hopefully without anyone noticing.   

 With Mike standing right in front of me, I reached up and grabbed the tab on his zipper and pulled it down.  He was squirming around so much; it was difficult to get his zipper down.  Eventually his light blue boxers came into view, and I reached inside his pants, desperately trying to find the gap in his boxers to get ahold of his cock, all the while Mike was still rocking back and forth on his feet. 

It didn’t help that it was dark under the desk, so I couldn’t actually see inside Mike’s pants as my hand fished around for his cock.  His pubic hair was course and plentiful as my hand felt around inside his boxers.  Finally with the right angle I was able to reach down, and grab hold of his junk, and I pulled it up and out of his zipper.   When his cock fell out of his pants, it was surround by a massive forest of dark pubic hair, I don’t think this guy had ever trimmed a hair.  I looked down, and not only had I grabbed his dick, but his huge balls were hanging outside his jeans too and were covered in the same wiry hair that surrounded his dick.    The head of his cock was large, and firm as I placed it just inside my mouth.  Simultaneously, I heard him moan just as his piss stream burst from his cock, exploding in my mouth with his hot, salty piss.   I swallowed as fast as I could, but his stream was so strong and hard that his piss filled my mouth before I could finish swallowing the last mouthful.    I tried closing my lips tighter around the head of his cock, but my cheeks bloated, and piss drooled out of my mouth down my chin. I desperately tried to drink all his piss; it was so fucking hot and tasted so good as it rapidly flowed down my throat. 

Mike’s constant soft moaning continued as his bladder emptied.  I had most his cock in my mouth at this time, and as his heavy stream of piss waned.  I could feel his cock stiffening as more and more of his bladder release until finally, he was completely hard in my mouth.  And I could even taste his pre-cum oozing through his piss slit onto my tongue. 

I couldn’t resist, I pushed my mouth down on his hard, long shaft until my lips, forehead and chin felt his pubic hair press up against me.  And when he didn’t push me away, I knew I had him.  Slowly I started to suck his cock, running my mouth and tongue up and down his rock-hard shaft.  Blowing him right there in class as he tried to work on our experiment. 

Suddenly, his hands were on the back of him head, and his hips were pounding into my mouth, forcing his cock deep into my throat, as he literally fucked my face.  I could feel his cock thicken, and after two or three more hard thrust I tasted the first of his many cum shots, that coated my mouth and slowly drained down my throat. 

By the time Mike pulled his cock free, it fell from my cum and piss coated mouth.  My own cock, that was sticking out of the top of my jeans had spewed a load of cum all over my shirt. And as I was about to get up and join the guys again, I saw Bobby’s hands working his zipper, and soon I was looking at another cock hanging in front of me again.   

“Stay down there, I gotta piss too!’  Bobby said, as he shook his soft cock.

His piss had a familiar taste as it sprayed into my mouth.  His cock started to get hard as soon as my lips wrapped around the head.  I drank him down easily, not letting a drop spill from my lips as I gulped and gulped down my second load of piss. 

Eventually his stream waned, so I slowly started to move my lips up and down on his shaft, making his cock stiffen in my mouth, but he made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with that. 

“Just drink my piss Alex, don’t blow me!”  He said as he pulled his still hard cock from my mouth, shook the last drops off the head of his cock, splattering me in the face.  “Thanks Alex!”  He said and grabbed his junk and shoved it back into his pants.   

Standing up, I licked my lips as I looked at the guys.  Tim was looking at me frantically as he too squirmed; obviously needing to take a wicked piss as well. 

“What the fuck, did you guys plan this?”  I asked and then I remembered Mike saying that they all had drunk 3 bottles of water before class.  “You fucking assholes, you drank all that water knowing that I would drink your piss straight from your cocks.” 

Tim gave me a confused look, like he thought I was mad or something.  He just stood there, squirming looking at me in a desperate way.   

“Well fuck, if you gotta piss….”  I said, seeing the relief set across his face as I once again slipped down under the tall desk as he frantically pulled open his belt and pulled the button on his jeans.  I watched closely as he pulled his zipper down, exposing the smooth skin of his abs, and eventfully revealing his complete bare pubic bone.  He reached into his jeans, and pulled out the longest cock, flopping it in front of me. 

“Oh my god!”  I whispered but maybe a little too loud.

“What’s wrong, is it to big?”  Tim said dejectedly

I laughed and grabbed hold of his heavy cock and licked the head.  “No, it can never be too big!”  I said

He smiled, and suddenly his cock started pissing a long heavy stream right into my mouth.  I quickly closed my lips around the head and drank down all his mouth-watering piss.  His piss was salty, but also sweet and creamy.  It was almost like dessert; I couldn’t get enough as I continued to gulp down every ounce he pissed into my mouth. 

And when his hot piss finally stopped flowing, I looked up from under the desk at him wantonly, with my lips still wrapped around his cock.  I could taste his pre-cum on the tip of his cock, and I wanted it all!  I grabbed his balls, and pulled them hard, making his cock harden in my mouth.  I pushed my face back, feeling his balls against my chin, as his cock continued to grow longer and thicker inside my mouth.    And as it grew, I felt the head of his cock presses against the back of my throat, forcing me to release my mouth’s hold on his full cock. 

Finally, he started to move his cock in and out of my mouth as my lips encompassed the smooth and hard flesh of his cock.  I could feel the power of his fuck tool as he moved his hips faster, pushing his cock deep into my mouth until his balls slapped against my chin. 

His cock was getting so big, I could only get about half of it in my mouth.  And it had gotten so thick that my jaw was starting to hurt, trying to open it so wide.  But he didn’t care about the condition of my mouth, he just wanted to cum!

His first jettison almost choked me, it was thick and blasted into my mouth with almost as much power as his piss stream, filling it up so much cum, that it oozed from my lips as I tried to swallow his full load.   But then the second shot of cum blasted into my mouth, and I couldn’t hold anymore, and my mouth exploded. Cum blew out everywhere as did his cock, so the third full blast of cum blew all over my face, along with the 4th and 5th shots of cum. 

I was drenched with cum by the time his balls were empty.  Cum was all over my hair, running down my face, and spattered all over my shirt.  So, along with the load I jerked off on my pants while blowing Mike, I was completely dripping in sperm.  

Tim looked down at me, his cock hanging in front of my face.  I picked it up and licked the large clump of cum of the tip and proceeded to wipe his cum off my face with this now semi hard, softening dick.  Using my mouth to suck it clean when it was covered in his cum. 

I walked back to the dorm, knowing that I couldn’t go to my next class covered in cum.  And as I was walking across the quad to my dorm, the sudden urge to piss hit me hard.  Not surprising with 3 large loads of piss in my stomach and lots of cum, it was almost critical.  

I was doing my best to hold it as I got closer to the dorm.  Suddenly I realized I had lost once the first few drops of piss slipped out into my pants, I knew I had lost the battle, and sure enough shortly after, my pants were darkening around my cock and then the dark stain ran down my right leg as I rushed towards my room, pissing my pants.

I should have known something wasn’t quite right as soon as I opened the door.  It wasn’t seeing Ky sitting on his bed, or that he had his phone in his hand.  But the fact that he had on a pair of gym shorts was an immediate red flag that I missed completely.   So, I just burst into the room, immediately closed the door, and started to pull my cum soaked shirt off.

“You wouldn’t fucking believe my Chem lab; it was so fucking…….” I started to explain until I realized that Ky was staring at me with his eyes wide open as he tried to warn me as I pushed my wet pants down to my ankles while I wrangled with my wet sneakers. 

“I was just texting you!”  He said, somewhat urgently.

“Yea, yea, but I got to tell you what Bobby, Mike and ……” Again, I was interrupted, but this time it wasn’t Ky

“What the fuck is all over your clothes”  I heard my brother say as I was kicking my shoes across the room.   

“Aaaaa Zak, when did you get here?”  I asked as I stood there naked, shoving my hands down to cover my cock. 

“He showed up about 10 minutes ago, as I was studying!”  Ky said, looking at me with slight irritation.

“Yea, I study like naked too sometimes, but it’s usually late at night with a towel on my bed!  But it’s cool.”  Zak said looking over at Ky. 

I could tell it wasn’t going well already, and I needed to do something, but I was soaked in piss and didn’t know how to get out of this, until Ky interjected.

“Did they turn the hose on you again in Lab, those guys think they are so fucking funny!” Ky said out of the blue.  And I ran with it. 

“Um a, oh yea.  Assholes!”  I said, realizing that Ky was giving me a way out of my mess.  “Let me grab a quick shower, and I’ll show you around the campus Zak.”

Quickly I grabbed my towel from behind my closet door and ran out of the room towards the showers. 

Ky opted not to do the tour with us but agreed to meet us in the bar later-on.  Zak never mentioned my wet pants again, but I did get a strange look from Ky as I pulled a pair of underwear out of my top drawer as I got changed after the shower. 

Ky was already at the bar drinking a beer when Zak and I finally rolled in.  I sat next to him, and Zak sat next to me. 

“You guys want a beer?”  Ky asked

“Sure!”  Zak said eagerly, having just turned 18

“Hey Peter, two beers please.”  Ky said

I grabbed Ky’s beer and took a quick pull and smiled.  It was Peter’s special brew, and still warm.  Yum!

And as the beers went down, Ky and Zak got to know each other and by the time we went for a pizza, we were all talking and joking about things.  And I started feeling pretty good, so when it was time to go to bed, Zak and I stripped to our boxer briefs, and got in my bed.  Thankfully, Ky donned some shorts and got into his bed.  The bed was small, but Zak was up against the wall, so I had plenty of room.  And the beers made us all fall asleep quickly. 

It woke me up, the familiar sounds of Zak moaning, at first, I thought I was dreaming, but as I woke, it was so obvious.  Zak was going to piss the bed again.  Fuck!  I looked over at Ky, and he was sound asleep, and obviously he’d shed his gym shorts, as he was lying naked on top of his sheets. 

The moaning increased and I knew what I had to do.  But it had been 10 or more years since I had to take care of Zak’s little problem.  But I was still very familiar with the process.  So, I got out of bed and kneeled on the floor.   The covers pulled off Zak when I got out of bed and his cock was bulging inside his boxer briefs.  Gently I reached up and pulled the black waist band down over his cock.  It was a lot bigger than I remember, but he was just a boy back then, now there was dark mound of pubic hair all around the base, and heavy balls laying against his thigh.   Gently I reached over and took his cock into my hand, It was so piss hard, and I could feel it was wet with piss already. 

So, I pulled myself up a bit to reach is cock with my mouth.  I opened my mouth wide and lightly touched the head of his cock with my tongue.  This had always made Zak piss when he was a kid, and tonight was no different. 

His stream started off slowly and soon my mouth was full of the familiar taste of my brother’s piss.  So softly I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock and once again drank my brothers piss straight from the dick.    

Suddenly I heard him scream my name and then jump up.  His pissing cock pulled from my mouth and continued to rain down piss all over me and the bed.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing! What the fuck…. Alex!”  Zak screamed as he was standing on the bed, his cock still hanging out of his underwear. 

Immediately the lights when on, and Ky got up and quickly walked over to us. 

“What the fuck is going on over here” Ky said to us, looking at me on my knees and Zak, standing on the bed with is cock hanging out of black boxer briefs.

“He was fucking sucking my cock, the little faggot!  My brother’s a fag, who would have guessed.  Little Alex is a fag!”  Zak said slyly. 

“Shut the fuck up you little asshole, no one talks to my boyfriend like that when I’m around.   I don’t care who you are, family or not!  Ky said furiously

“Boyfriend!” Zak and I said at the same time. 

“Yea, your brother is my boyfriend and if you have anything to say about that you little ungrateful prick, let me know!”  Ky shot back at Zak.

“Ungrateful, what the fuck are you talking about.  I’m the one that brought Alex’s bike to him. But I didn’t ask for a blow job as payment.” Zak said, not understanding what Ky was talking about. 

“Dude, you have no idea, do you? Do you!”  Ky yelled “Your brother, the one you’re calling a fag, used to drink your piss every night when you were a kid, just to keep you out trouble with your parents.  So put your cock away. get off the bed and let’s talk about this like men.” 

We talked most of the night, Zak really had no idea that I had been drinking his piss for over 2 years when we were kids. He admitted some things to us.  One, that he still occasionally wet the bed, two that he was attracted to some guys, but really liked this girl he was dating, and three that he was still a virgin.   He said was cool with Ky and I being boyfriend and didn’t even flinch later that night when Ky got up, of course still naked, and walked up to me and stuck his cock in my mouth and pissed.   Zak just sat there watching my Adam’s apple bob up and down as I swallowed every bit of piss that flowed from Ky’s dick into my mouth. 

Part 1: Transformation

“How do u feel knowing ur such a slut ur driving an hour to take fat cock?”

My hands tightened on the steering wheel as Daniel’s message lit up my phone. Part of me still couldn’t believe I was actually going through with it.

My heart fluttered. I looked over at my bag in the passenger seat. Inside was everything I’d need for the night: a wig, some makeup, and black lacy lingerie, just like Daniel had asked for. That night, I wasn’t simply driving an hour to get fucked—I was venturing into my first sexual encounter as a crossdresser.

About a minute passed before I managed to text Daniel back.

“I absolutely love it.”

***

When I pulled into the motel’s parking lot, the night sky was thick and silent, except for the faint rush of freeway traffic somewhere out past the streetlights. The parking lot was mostly empty, which brought a slight sense of relief to my ever-growing mix of nerves and excitement.

“I’m here,” I texted Daniel. “I’m about to check in.”

Yes, I really was here. An hour away from home, in the parking lot of a cheap motel, all for a man I only knew through pictures and videos. Daniel had actually wanted to fuck me in my car, but I insisted on getting a room. I wanted privacy—the space to transform myself, to greet Daniel in a wig, makeup, and black lace. And I wanted to finally see him in all his glory, especially that big, beautiful cock, which I’d been obsessed with for months.

***

I first messaged Daniel on Grindr not long after I’d figured out how to use filters to sort profiles. One slow morning at work, my grid was full of young tops when I came across his profile—almost by chance, since he didn’t have a picture. What caught my eye was his profile text: Daniel was hung (he claimed his dick was a thick 7.5 inches), and he was into fucking women, femboys, and crossdressers. I wasn’t any of those things, but his preferences felt like a reflection of the kind of man I’d always secretly desired. So I messaged him and sent a picture I’d taken of my ass in the shower.

He replied a few minutes later, sending a picture of his cock. And I just stared at my phone, breathless, yearning, spellbound—unable to look away. Despite its thickness and length, his cock stood straight out, almost perfectly horizontal except for a slight curve. The head was plump, and the skin of his uncut cock was pulled back, gathering firmly at the base of the head. His balls hung low and heavy. All of it—adorned by a tangle of pubic hair I could almost smell through the phone.

Then his next message appeared on my screen: “U fem?”

“No,” I replied, “but I love to be submissive.”

***

Checking in was about as uneventful as I could have hoped. No “What brings you into town?” or other small talk. I figured the staff at these motels are probably used to seeing middle-aged men checking in late at night by themselves. Still, I wondered how many of those men come here not to fuck, but to be fucked. In lingerie.

I quickly walked up a set of concrete steps to the second floor and made my way down a narrow walkway to my room, which overlooked the parking lot. The room, which I’d booked less than an hour earlier, was a double: two queen-size beds with white comforters, burgundy carpeting, and a large, well-lit bathroom.

As I unpacked my things, my phone lit up with a new message from Daniel.

“Let me know when ur ready.”

***

I had crossdressed for Daniel before, but only through Snapchat. During our first exchange on Grindr, after he’d made it clear he was exclusively into femininity, he told me he might be down to fuck me—but only if I wore a wig, makeup, and lingerie. The idea had never really crossed my mind, so I was surprised by how instantly and intensely I was turned on by the thought of giving up my masculinity for the pleasure of a younger, more virile man.

Daniel was a construction worker, in town temporarily for a job. I couldn’t let go of him—or the potential thrill of dressing up for him and getting to see his perfect cock in person—so we added each other on Snapchat. Soon, we were regularly sending each other pictures and videos: his cock, my ass.

It took a few weeks before I built up the courage to order my first pair of panties—a red lace thong, skimpy and delicate, that hugged me in a way nothing else ever had. And Daniel went wild for it. It wasn’t long before I had a hidden stash of thongs in different colors, which I’d secretly slip into—at first only for Daniel, but eventually for other men who, like him, took pleasure in emasculating and dominating lesser men.

***

I stood in front of the bathroom vanity, the harsh white light buzzing overhead. My hands trembled a little as I fitted the wig onto my head, feeling the tight grip of the adjustable straps settle just above my ears. Wavy brown hair spilled to my shoulders, the center part falling forward to frame my face, hiding just enough. I barely recognized myself.

It had taken me months to buy this wig. Every step, every little purchase felt like a deeper surrender of my manhood—an offering to Daniel, to a version of myself I was only now becoming.

I glanced down at my body: sheer black pantyhose hugged my legs, a subtle floral pattern winding high across my thighs. The lace thong was a constant reminder, the back riding snug between my cheeks, the front holding my helpless bulge in a soft prison of mesh and lace. My black blouse fit snugly, stretching just enough over my chest, cut square across the bust.

My makeup was shaky, but serviceable. Red lipstick, too bold and a little uneven; foundation that barely hid the shadow of my jaw. A touch of blush, mascara, and eyeliner—enough to blur the line between who I was and who I wanted to be.

I picked up my phone and typed with trembling fingers:

“I’m ready.”

The words lingered on the screen. Then, three little dots appeared—Daniel was already typing.

“Omw.”

From the Author:

You will now read another chapter that was never written the first time around. This was a very important time in our lives that never should have been left out.

This is another long one my friends; words’ of fifty filled with reflections and shit many may not want to read. You might get to a point and just say, “fuck it” and turn to something else. I will understand my anonymous friends. But something tells me that won’t happen.

This is my attempt to help you, the reader, understand the dynamics of our relationship. ‘Reflections’ is my way to bring a half a million words into a context that a reader might understand if reading about us for the first time.

We will jump around from today, April 1st 1992, into the past as well as the future. I will do my best to delineate between then, and now, with dates and change in font.

Each flashback will be a short story or just a reference to previous chapters to jog your memory. Like I said, I had left this chapter out and the reflections part has been added for both new and old reader’s enjoyment. If you feel you know Robby and me, you will read and appreciate everything I have included.

Robby and I had not seen each other in six months and had not shared ourselves in nine; my thirty-first birthday. Tonight was an anniversary for us; Fifteen years is a long time. 

Robby, and I, are very complex people, but I was a dad now and that made me different. It changed everything. While he was able to think of himself with no worries, I was not. 

I inherited ‘The Willows, a family estate,’ along with a safe deposit box full of stocks left to me by my Grandfather. I was mature for my age at the time and lived a life of someone several years older. 

At eighteen I was 5’10” tall. I weighed about 150 lbs. and had light brown eyes accompanied with brown hair and auburn high lights. I am Ryan J. Chancellor.

Year fifteen; Reflections

I sat in my office at RJ’s, the evening of April 1st, 1992. Sid stood at my door. “Boss, he’s here,” my number 2 announced.  

I knew he was here though; had been able to feel him for the last fifteen minutes. My face rested in my hands; I had thought about it all day; along with all the April 1st’s that had come and gone over the years.

I stood, smiled, and thanked Sid. I checked myself in the mirror, fixed my tie, put my jacket on, and walked out to greet Robby; hoping for the best, but preparing for the worst.

I stood looking at him from behind as he was admiring what I’d created. He perused the pictures hanging on the walls of me with my most famous clientele, along with friends and family that attended the month long grand opening of, ‘RJ’s Lake House.’

He paused in front of the largest one for a minute and I felt it; his sadness and regret. The only person missing was him. We all stood in a huge V. I was in front, my mom and Clint, my wife and boys behind and to my left; Lady at my feet.

Chuck and Kathy stood to my right with Park and his wife, along with Cass and her second husband. Sugar, Chad and Conner, and a few others filling the second row; in the back stood Sylvia and Sid. I had no idea how long it had been for Rob since he had seen her but I knew if he wasn’t at my side it would’ve been next to her.

Rob and Sylvia: 1977

The first time Rob met Sylvia Browne we had just returned from our first trip to ‘The Willows’ in 77 and were having dinner at The Gentleman. We sat down and I told Harold I wanted to talk to him about expanding and adding another dining room. He gave me a puzzled look and walked off. We were looking at our menus when I saw Harold walking in with Miss Browne.

Sylvia Browne was a woman who I had met and she remained a friend until she passed away in 2010 to start her new journey. She had what I will call ‘a second sight.’

During her life she wrote many books; Some including Rob and me. She was a regular on shows like Montel and Larry King. Sylvia loved people; all people, and understood that love was love. ‘We love with our heart.’ And she could see colors. She is worth a Google search.

Sylvia saw us, shielded her eyes with the back of her hand as she broke away from Harold and headed straight over to our table. I stood immediately with Rob following my lead.

She took my hand and just gushed, “Look at you two. If the power goes out, you will light up the city.” It would be a compliment to anyone listening but a whole different meaning for Rob and me.

Rob looked at her bewildered. When I went to introduce him she took his hand and said, “Sir Robert, I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” never letting go of his hand and sharing one of those looks with me.

Robby stood there; studying her, he seemed to be at a loss for words. I asked if she’d join us and she agreed; thanking Harold as he pointed, saying her table was in the corner when she was ready.

Sylvia sat next to Rob, keeping his hand in hers. I called the waitress over and told her, “Miss Browne will have a double Vodka Martini, straight up with a twist.” Something I had seen on her bill many times.

She smiled at me and told both of us, “I have never seen such bright beautiful colors radiating from anyone like this before, boys.”

She looked at me smiling and asked, “Still think I’m ‘bat-shit crazy,’ Mr. Chancellor?” I smiled as I lowered my head and shook it no. She glanced at Rob and said, “Yes honey, I can see them too. Now tell me everything.”

Rob; still looking bewildered said, “I feel like I know you. I think I’ve seen you in my dreams.”

She mused, “That’s sweet you would dream of this old lady, honey. You would have found each other on your own Robert, you always have.”

Something about her calling him Robert was familiar; she looked at me and smiled. Rob looked at me and then her and said, “My mother used to call me, Robert.”

Sylvia nodded. “Yes, she did child, and so did others.”

Rob confessed, “I’m confused.”

 Sylvia replied. “When the time is right, everything will become clear.” as her drink arrived.

She took a sip and said again “Tell me everything. Did you find your clues?”

Rob answered quickly “Yes we did, and we left one for next time, too.” He seemed like his response surprised him.

“You always have,” she reminded him with a smile.

She turned to me and said, “You know, Ryan; your grandfather was an old soul too,” adding he was on a new journey now. Her comments were cryptic and she really didn’t confirm nor deny anything.

She stood as Rob and I did the same. She said, “You boys have things to do and people to see, so I will take my leave.”

Rob took her hand and begged, “Please stay, I have so many questions.”

Back to tonight:

I still loved him so… much it hurt; but, how could I not? Some things just never change. And when he turned and saw me those familiar colors around him that I missed so much exploded just like every time he looked at me. And that wonderful smile appeared on his face.

We just stood looking at each other. I know he saw the same thing I did. I can’t describe what that feels like; how it makes me feel, nor can I explain what it looks like. Maybe Nirvana; I really don’t know.

Robby had seen them in me from the first time he saw me. He had dreamt of me from the time he was a child; I was the boy in his dreams with the colors; the one that protected and comforted him. That boy had grown into me.

For those who don’t see colors around people it’s hard to explain. I don’t claim to be something extraordinary; wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea, but many people can see them. Rob and I only saw them in each other and never anyone else.

For those who don’t have that luxury I can only try to give you examples. Everybody knows someone that is draining, you know the one; the one that sucks the life right out of you. Or the ones that make your skin crawl. Those people are the dark ones, the sad ones who only want your energy; you just can’t see their colors. Trust your instincts. Don’t blame them. They don’t understand what they are.

The other side of the coin; are those that give willingly and freely. You feel good around them, happy, enjoy their company, and leave them feeling refreshed. These are the ones with the bright colors.

They are the ones you should surround yourself with; strong, energetic, full of life, people. Remember though, these soles are strong but not bottomless. No one can be just a giver totally; they need return for their investment in you. Give back my friends; you are stronger than you know.

***********   

It was only natural to hold out my arms and he couldn’t help but fall into them. What else could we do? The embrace lasted embarrassingly long; neither of us wanting to be the first to let go; the familiar feeling of being complete; whole again, washed over both of us. And I heard Sid clear his throat behind me.

I knew Rob couldn’t go without seeing me today. And the way he looked I was getting his best tonight. I think he saw the relief in my eyes and felt it in my heart.

“God, you smell good, Ryan.” he announced upon releasing me; his hands smoothing my jacket and brushing down my shoulders like he always did. His hands slid to my arms and squeezed softly as he looked in my eyes.

“You think I smell good; you should taste me.” That was always my reply and I started to drown in his pools of blue.

My hands moved slowly down his chest; pausing to feel his heart beat then headed for his waist out of sheer habit and Sid cleared his throat again. And Rob squeezed my arms hard and let go.

I had a table that was mine; one that overlooked the dinning room with the best view of the lake. This was where I could schmoose those who spent a ton of money, maybe a politician or two, or where I could just sip my scotch and enjoy the fruits of my labor. I motioned with my head for him to follow.

Robby looked so good; spot fuckin on, and seemed to still be clean. His eyes were so clear and bright. I didn’t know where he was getting his clothes but Josh himself couldn’t have dressed him any better. One of the ways Rob took after me; we both had an eye for men’s fashion. My goal was to always be the best dressed man in the room and my goal was met most nights.

I smiled as he slid into the booth and I gazed upon the first necklace I ever bought him; the black onyx with gold initials; the safe deposit box key still attached.

I knew he wore it for me tonight. I thought of the day in DC when I reached out and held it in my hand for the first time with his smiling face and golden chest in the back ground; I so wanted to do that again tonight.

 It had been six months since I had put him through rehab for the third time; it seemed to be working and he looked healthy. We sat kind of across from each other as we had so many times, in so many different places. But this was his first time here.

This scene had played out at every nice restaurant in Seattle, the whole east and west coast, LA, DC, Hawaii, and San Fran. OK; you get the idea. We traveled a little. Sometimes just to eat; sometimes for a concert or one of Sugar’s games. But to describe the flood of memories; the way it felt this time, is hard my friends.

I could sense the heat; the prickle of my skin and the feel of having Robby close again. It was always the same for both of us. We sat quiet for a minute as I just looked out over what I’d created, and the patrons who’d made the decision to spend tonight with RJ. And then I looked back at him.

His question didn’t surprise me. “Rye? Do you know what today is?” he asked; the first real words of the night. I loved it when he called me that and he knew it. It caused me to think of the first time.

He smiled as I tried to fake it and look confused. “Its April fool’s day, dork.” I replied. But I couldn’t help thinking about all the April, 1st’s we spent in our first class seats on our way back to ‘The Willows.’ Back to our home in the east, where love blossomed and grew; where our lives changed forever.

Sid came over and stood in front of our table. I won’t say Sid didn’t like Rob but you could feel the tension. “We’ll both have prime-rare, one bone, and a tail. Blue cheese on our salads and load the potatoes. And surprise us with the appetizer.”

I looked at Rob and he shook his head no, “And you know what I drink. Thank you, Sid. Sid, don’t tell Char who it’s for. I want to eat what everybody else is.”

I decided when I opened this new restaurant we would have all waiters. Ladies, and honestly, most men, love a good looking man in tight pants with impeccable manners, and that is what RJ’s was all about. Impeccable, fuckin, manners!

We dripped class! From the moment the valet took your keys, you knew. RJ’s Lake House offered the finest food, the best wine, greatest view; just the best of everything. Ok and the highest prices. We were top shelf all the way; we even had a cigar bar. But who really cares when you’re getting the best and can brag the next day about getting a table in my restaurant.

I hand picked every handsome man that my name stood behind. I trained and dressed each of the front house staff myself. Most of my waiters worked as a team or trio when it came time to present at the table of four or more.

I never wanted a guest to wait; regardless the number of people; everyone’s food came at the same time. Sometimes even Char and I served.   

We sat for so long having one of those silent conversations. Sid brought my drink and set it in front of me; Robby pushed it away and gave Sid a look shaking his head ‘no.’

I could tell Sid was fucking seething and he just glared at Rob. He glanced at me and I gave a small nod saying, “Give it to the Governor.” Sid glared back at Rob then picked up the drink and walked away.

“He hates me, Ryan.”

“He doesn’t hate you Rob, he just likes me more.” I reassured him, but he knew I was lying.

When our soup arrived Robby finally broke the silence. “You didn’t answer me. Do you know what today is, Rye?” he asked again stirring his chowder looking at me with that tilted head.

I didn’t need to answer. I knew damn good, and well, what today was, and he knew it. I needed to be strong though, needed to hold my own but, I could already tell that just wasn’t going to happen tonight.

I changed the subject and chose to talk about him and what he thought of our new restaurant, how treatment went, how his sugars were, and if he was doing after care.

“Thank you, Ryan.”

I had bought this new piece of property; paid by the square fuckin foot and built something I was proud to put our initials on. It cost me over a million and a half just for the land. Twenty, in today’s standards; but it was all me. 

“Stop fucking around, Ryan,” he said; annoyed that I didn’t respond.

“What do you want me to say, Jr.?” I finally asked as Sid brought our salads and removed our soup bowls.

“Come on, Ryan.” He asked, like I didn’t know. I could feel his frustration that I wasn’t playing the game.

“We have never been together longer than we haven’t, Rye.” He announced. And I understood what he meant.

Rob and I had sometimes found each other when we were younger and didn’t live long. Other times it was later in life; not like this time, and we died young; our love and connection never really coming to full fruition.

We had never grown old together like we were so sure we would this time. Half our life; even though we were at the start of our thirties, it was a big deal to him. And honestly, it was for me too.

“Have we really, Jr.? Have we really been together longer?” I questioned. I, couldn’t, fuckin, help it.

We hadn’t been together for almost a decade but Robby didn’t see it that way and my remark made him sad. And I stopped short of apologizing.

He didn’t respond to me and asked, “Have you been back home? Have you talked to Bruno? I know you went somewhere, a lot, Ryan.”

“REALLY? You, fuckin, know what I’ve been doing; you, ass,” I said raising my voice. “This shit has almost killed me. You can’t even imagine what I have heard and seen. Is that why you’re here tonight Rob: to talk about ‘Willows’ and Bruno?” I asked, questioning his motives. I looked out at the heads that had turned to me and tried to smile and say I’m sorry for my outburst.

I had not seen or talked to Rob since I walked away after admitting him to treatment six fuckin months ago, and he knew then I hadn’t been back to ‘The Willows’ since 88. That’s when I flew his beaten ass back home to get him clean and well; but he was trying to make polite conversation ignoring the pain I had suffered.

1988

My wife never knew about our home to the east; all she knew was I had a business venture in Virginia. At Chuck’s recommendation the three safe deposit boxes were not anything I ever shared with her either, but she had anything and everything she ever wanted. Trust me.

 When the hospital called me that awful night in 88, she got nothing more than a phone call from me telling her that something had come up; I needed to fly back east for a few days. I didn’t return home for ten days and only called her once.

Rob got the shit beaten out of him trying to buy drugs in the bowels of Seattle. He really got the shit beaten out of him. The call from the hospital made my heart stop.

My beautiful boys face was swollen and bruised, stitches above his eye, and his weak ribs had been broken again. I honestly wondered how much more we could take. He could have held his own with one, maybe two, but four will kick your ass every time. 

I called Bruno from Sea Tac in the middle of the night giving him little time to ready our home and pick us up. Everything; and I mean everything, came second to Robby. And I had to come up with another excuse why I had that shock of white in my bangs again. 

Back to tonight:

“I miss you so much, Rye. I think about you every day. I’m sorry.” He admitted.

“How could you not?” I questioned; surprised at my quick response. But that drew a smile from him like I knew it would.

Our dinner arrived and we made small talk while enjoying what Char, my top chief, had created for us. It was the same meal we enjoyed at the Gentleman fifteen years ago, today. That was the day I started educating his pallet.

We talked about my boys over dinner. I said how much they missed him and he should make a point of dropping by to see them. He was their Uncle Robby, after all. And it would make them happy to see him looking so good.

“How is she?” he asked.

“She has a fuckin name, Rob, you know.” I spat at him; now with attitude. He did this, every time. He refused to use her name like she was a fucking rash or something.

Robin always liked Rob and he was nice to her when he was back to sleep in the trailer and get himself on his feet again.

1986

I married Robin in May of 86 and Rob was clean enough at the time to be my best man. He had left me in late 84; we were trying to move on and he was hurt when I hadn’t asked him so I offered and he accepted. We looked so… fuckin good; both of us wore blue-gray tuxes with black ruffles and mine had tails.

We have all been at weddings when the Pastor, or whoever asks “does anyone have a reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony; speak now or for ever hold your peace.” And no one ever does. Not at my wedding.

I turned at the gasps and saw three people standing. Sylvia, My Mother, and Mike, were all standing. I turned Robin slightly and stared at them; one by one they sat back down.

Each of them knew that the man who was standing by my side should have been the one receiving my vows instead of the woman standing before me.  

After the wedding and his toast to us he disappeared and other than the call on my twenty-sixth birthday I didn’t see him again until Christmas Eve. He came unexpectedly and when I answered the door my heart dropped knowing it was him. He was the only person that had the gate code. I wanted to die.

Our son was due the end of January; I hadn’t had the chance to tell Rob and the look on his face when he saw Robin was enough to break my heart. And then he looked at me. I hadn’t seen hurt like that in his eyes for years, and the fact that I caused it made it worse.

I felt his tears as he wished us a Merry Christmas and made an attempt to excuse why he had to leave then he turned and walked out the door. I followed him out until he stopped. I didn’t even try and defend myself when his fist hit my face and he sobbed openly.

My arms rested at my side as he stared at me then wound up and hit me again as tears run down both our faces. He didn’t hold back on the second blow and almost knocked me down but I stood tall again in front of him waiting for the third, feeling I deserved it. I don’t like getting hit! 

“How could you do that, Rye?” He sobbed with so much pain in his voice.

“How could you make a baby with HER?” He hit me in the chest with both fists out of frustration and knocked the wind right out of me then wrapped his arms around my neck and buried his face on my shoulder. I was expecting a knee to the nuts that never came.

He just shook his head back and forth then let go, turned, and walked away without looking back. That was the only time a hand was ever raised to me without me reacting. And was the only time Rob hit me. I didn’t respond to Robin when she asked about my face and she never brought it up again.

Back to today.   

“OK, Ryan. How is Robin?” he asked, now with genuine concern feeling my pain.

I softened, “She’s still working and the treatments seem to be slowing things down a little but she is in a lot of pain,” I told him as I stared at what was left of my dinner.

It sucked; really sucked, to be the husband of a sick wife that would never get better and only get worse. Robin had developed MS some years ago; it was very aggressive and painful.   

“And Mom?” he asked. They had developed a strong relationship from the very start that only grew after the accident. She always wanted to know how her other son was; the true partner of her only son.

It pained me that mom never warmed to Robin; I guess a mother knows what is right for her boy. She was one of the three standing. She had watched us for years; had come to realize we were physically connected. She knew I would die for him and it pained her that he wasted that.

“Mom had a stroke a few months ago but it seems that the only residual are seizers. Clint takes great care of her.” I confided.

Mom was seventy-two now. She’d not been good to herself. I wished I hadn’t grown up so fast and been able to enjoy a childhood with young parents.

Sid came to the table. “Boss, Governor Mike, and his guests are half way through dinner and they’re others expecting to see you,” he announced; giving Rob a glare like it was his fault I was ignoring my obligations. I gave Sid my pissed off look and he started to apologize.

I realized and stopped him. “I’m sorry. It’s OK Sid. I will make a round. Thanks for keeping me on my toes, buddy.” I smiled and touched his arm just to put him at ease.

Rob looked at me. “Go do your thing, Dr. Chancellor. I’m not going anywhere tonight.” he assured me with a smile and wink; knowing I really was working; this was my life now. And I smiled back at him for calling me, Dr. Chancellor.

Dr. Chancellor.

When we went to Virginia the first time I made a reservation as Dr. Chancellor, then again on his birthday a few months later. He got a real kick out of it.

September 14th 1977.

He said, “I don’t know why I sleep so well here?” He corrected himself and said, “Well, yes I do.” as he squeezed me in his arms. He asked what we were doing today and if we could stay in bed until we went to dinner. I told him nothing would make me happier, but I had the day planned.

I told him we were going to spend the day at, Pike Place Market, and just bum around Seattle. He needed to dress well because the restaurant was really nice, nicer than the Gentleman. And he needed to bring a coat because I had something planned for after dinner.

We got out of bed a little while later and all cleaned up than dressed. I told him we would take the Shelby because I wanted to stop at a sports car dealership to look at a TR that had been advertised.

I had only driven it a few times, it was my dads, and I thought I might want to trade it in. Dad never drove it because he died before the car was delivered. We stopped at a small café for a light breakfast then headed towards Seattle.

When we pulled into the dealership I saw the car immediately. It was just like my grandpas, except it was forest green. Rob hopped out of my car, walked over, and sat in the driver’s seat as the salesman walked up.

I told him I wanted to trade in my mustang on the TR. The low number he offered for my car told me he was trying to hose me. It was a blessing, really. It still sits in the garage like money in the bank. And today I own one of 402 that were built that year. 

I told him if he didn’t want to deal, I was sure there was another lot that would, and we got back in the Mustang. He gave me one of his cards, saying if I changed my mind, I could call him.

He didn’t think it was funny when I wrote my name and number on his card and handed it back. I told him if he pulled his head out of his ass and wanted to make a sale, he, could call me.

I started the stang and lit up the tires as I pulled out. Rob looked at me; “I can’t believe you fucking did that, Ryan.” The smile on my face said it all; “I know Ryan, Fuck’em if he can’t take a joke, right.” I smiled and winked.

We spent the rest of the day bumming around the market and the city, buying a few things along the way. I loved downtown and seeing how much Robby enjoyed everything made me swell with happiness.

We did it all; street vendors, little specialty shops, and the 1st. Ave. adult shops. Rob had lived here his whole life and had never experienced downtown.

  It was going on five when we got back to the car leaving us just enough time to get to Palisades. We pulled up and I threw my keys to the valet as we strutted inside; everybody was there except Park and his date. Trish came up and gave me a kiss, thanking me for letting her come.

I had told Josh that it was a mixed group tonight; I wanted him to dial it back a bit. He knew what I meant. I asked Mike to check the reservation as I walked over to look in the bar. It had a half wall that was open to the restaurant so the bar could enjoy the view of the marina and water too.

I saw a nice piano sitting by the wall. I walked over and hit a few keys; looking at the bartender for approval. He shrugged his shoulders and gave me a nod.

I could see everyone looking at me; Mike started shaking his head as I sat down. Well, it worked once; let’s see how receptive this place is. I made eye contact with Rob; he gave me that smile and a wink.

I cracked my knuckles and started out slow to get everyone’s attention. Then I picked up speed once I saw people looking for where the sound was coming from. When I got to the part everybody says hay; my group yelled it out and that just spurred me on. I said to anybody listening, “Let’s do that again.” I started over and this time everybody joined in. Rob was grinning ear to ear and he nodded at me.

I cracked my knuckles again and let it fly. The whole restaurant was looking at me and I have to admit, I fuckin loved this shit. I finished, did my trademark blowing on my fingers, and stood up to a standing ovation. I bowed and went down the two steps, rejoining my friends like I had not just made a spectacle of us all.

Park had arrived with a drop dead gorges chick on his arm as I was playing; he started shaking his head too. He said he could hear it from outside and knew it was me.

The host called out that the table was ready for the Dr. Chancellor party. Trish came over, hooking her arm in mine, and I gave Rob a hand on the back; signaling him to take the lead. There was a balloon tied to one chair and I told him that was his seat.

I pulled a chair out for Trish on the other side of the table; she walked by taking the seat next to Rob. I was a little proud of him; he stood and pulled the chair out for her. Good boy.

I took the seat on the other side of Rob even though Trish wanted me to sit next to her. I got smiles and nods from the patrons around us and once we were all seated everybody started going on about my showing off.

I made introductions including Josh and Randy who were not known to Mike, Cindy, and Trish. It was a little embarrassing to me how Trish was going on just gushing about my playing and then she said, “Really, Hollywood? Dr. Chancellor.”

Rob looked at me smiling then turned to Mike and asked, “So what’s with the, Hollywood thing?”

Mike looked at Trish and smiled, letting her start the story. She stood and came up behind me resting her hands on my shoulders. I cringed.

She looked down at Rob and started, “It was all, Mike’s, fault. We were at a party and I had never met Ryan; I was a little buzzed.”

Mike interjected, “You were fucking wasted, Trish.”

She laughed and admitted, “Ok Mike, I had a buzz. Well, Robby, I asked Mike who Ryan was. He told me he was, John Stamos, off General Hospital. In the state I was in, I believed him.”

She paused for a breath and continued, “Mike, told me to keep it quiet because he didn’t want to be recognized.”

Mike jumped in saying “She fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.”

Trish went on and said, “Well, he does kind of look like him if his hair was darker.” 

Again, Mike chimed in saying; “She didn’t leave his side the whole night.”

Trish told everyone she had liked me ever sense, adding I was her knight in shining armor.

Mike explained he had called me Hollywood ever sense and the name fit me, saying I was a fucking show-off. Trish crossed her arms around my chest from behind and hugged me.

Cindy, not wanting to let it go said, “So Ryan, about the other weekend. Are you ready to tell us who she is? And it better not be Jena.”

Park said, “Oh my god, not her again, Chance.”

I reminded her, “No, it’s not Jena. I told you that.”

Parker asked, “So what happened two weeks ago?” Four people started talking all at the same time; trying to give their take on the happenings of two weeks ago.

The girls were talking about the song and the guys were talking about the fight.

Parker held up his hand and said, “One at a time, people.”

Cindy just kept talking, choosing to be first. “Oh… Parker, you should have heard him. He did ‘Time in a Bottle’, and oh… my god, he sounded like; well anyway, Trish went up and hugged him.”

Trish started talking, “I couldn’t help myself; I just went up and hugged him. I told him that was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.”

I spoke up and said, “I was just in a mood, ok.” 

Trish picked up adding that; “I knew my boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend, would get pissed, but I didn’t expect him to slap me.”

Mike stepped in and said, “I didn’t see it, but the next thing I know; Hollywood kind of pushed me out of the way.”

I said, “If I would have pushed you, dude, you would have been on your ass!”

Mike continued, “Well anyway, he walks up to Jack and grabbed his arm spinning him around, then hit him right in the face.”

I said, “In my defense, I don’t remember hitting him first.”

Rob told him, “I saw what was going on. Not even knowing what I was going to do, I got if front of Ryan. As he pushed me out of the way, Jack, hit him.”

Parker held up his hands and said, “No, No, no; Wait a minute,” as he looked at me. “Someone got close enough to hit you?” The look on his face was one of dumb-founded-ness.

I lifted my hair up and showed him my head. I told him that he fucking near knocked me out and laid me on my ass.

Parker moaned, “I would have paid money to see that.” I flipped him the bird. “So, Chancellor, got his ass kicked, and I missed it. Shit.”

Mike said, “That wasn’t the end of it, Parker. My man here; shook it off. I could see the blood in his hair as he walked back up to Jack. It looked like he was going to hit him, but he kneed him square in the fucking nuts.

When Jack doubled over he drove the other knee into his face and knocked out one of his front teeth.” (I didn’t know that part)

“Way to go, RJ.” Parker complemented now smiling.

Mike continued, “That’s only half of it. He bitch-slapped the shit out of him then rolled him over and pulled his arms back; there was nothing Jack could do.”

Parker looked at me; I smiled and nodded at him.

Cindy started and said, “Then Mike thought he could get Ryan off him. I don’t know how he hit Mike.”

Mike pointed to the faded bump between his eyes. “Ryan got down and was saying something in Jack’s ear and then he dislocated his fucking arm. I mean, dislocated his fuckin arm.”

Parker smiled and told everybody; he showed me that move and the only way to get out of it is to dislocate your arm. Nobody’s going to do that.

Mike jumped in and said, “I think Robby here saved Jack’s life.” He looked at Rob and asked, “What did you say to him anyway, Robby?” Not letting him answer he said, “So, Robby, just goes up to Hollywood and said something to him.

It was like turning off a light; Hollywood dropped Jack and let him go.”

Rob got a gloating smiled and said, “I knew he wouldn’t hit me” as he continued to smile and looked over at me.

Cindy looked at me but said to everybody, “He was so tender and vulnerable when he was singing and two minutes later he was a crazy man.”

Josh and Randy asked, “Was that after we saw you guys?”

Rob told them it was the night after that. Trish got up and came back over and put her arm around me kissing the side of my head and said, “That’s why he’s my knight in shining armor.” I gave Rob a sideways glair as she sat back down.

I held my hands up and said, “I was just in a mood that night. Ok? I wouldn’t have killed him.” 

Rob looked at me, “You wouldn’t have stopped, Ryan.” He said only to me. “I knew I had to do something.”

Trish looked at Rob and said to all, “Then Robby called me a stupid bitch!”

I felt him swell, he got an attitude immediately, and announced, “You tried to fucking hit him, what did you expect? He had just kicked your pussy, boyfriends’, ass, and had to go to the fucking hospital, all because you had to go up and hang on him.”

I kicked his foot under the table as Trish tried to defend her actions. I held up my hand and called the waiter over. We ordered appetizers, drinks, and I told him we would order dinner when they came.

I changed the subject and asked if we were going to have a good time and looked at Cindy and asked, “Did you bringem?”

“Bring what?” I heard from Rob.

I looked at him and said, “The Tampons, stupid.” And everybody broke up.

He blinked a few times and said, “I don’t get it.”

I said, “It’s the best way to get smoke into a concert without getting it confiscated.”

He said, “I still don’t get it.”

I told him, “After dinner, we’re all going to the Car’s concert at the Coliseum. No cop is going to dig in a girls’ purse when he sees a box of tampons on top.”

“So we’re all going to the Cars concert after dinner?” he asked still questioning.

I said, “Surprise, Rob.” I felt him squeeze my leg under the table.

Our appetizers arrived; we ordered our dinner, and dove in on a half a dozen sides. I pulled the tickets out of my pocket and passed them around. I said I had 10 and we needed to get one at the door for Trish, adding it was Rob that wanted her to come.

Rob squeezed my leg hard enough to make me flinch. 

I looked at Park and questioned, “So? What is this beautiful young lady doing with you? And your lack of manners is showing, dickhead. How rude of you to not introduce her to the host,” meaning me.

He looked at her and asked, “What’s your name again?” She hit him hard on the arm and announced her name was, Beth.

I told her that Park was all looks and no class; she shouldn’t waste her time, and said, “On the other hand, I am the full meal deal.”

I blew on my fingers and acted like I was shining my nails on my shirt. I said, “Let me give you my number,” and gave her a wink.

That started a little bantering between Parker and me. It ended with him telling her, I was all talk and a fucking show off.

I acted offended and said, “I am not a show-off.” Then I told everybody that Rob was Parker’s grandmas’ pimp. That got laughs so loud that people were looking at us.

Parker warned, “Just wait until I get you behind the boat next time, I’m not going to forget that one, Chance. Maybe I’ll just tell grandma and let her kick your pompous ass.”

Cindy told Beth that I was one of the nicest guys she knew. Trish confirmed it with Josh and Randy just nodded their heads. Trish said, “Oh… and the way he sings.”

Parker said, “He’s not that good.” That got him a breadstick in the face from Cindy.

I said, “Ok, Ok. If you guys start a food fight, I will never get a table in here again.”

Beth looked at Parker and said, “Well, if he sings half as good as he plays the piano, he must be fantastic.”

Parker, feeling picked on said, “It only sounds like it. He’s not even hitting all the keys. You just can’t tell. And he’s been playing that since he was like ten.”

Rob decided to share that I had done the same thing at the Hilton in DC, right down to blowing on his fingers, like they were on fire. Trish asked when I was there and Rob jumped right in. He told her “The two of us flew to Virginia last month. We had gone to DC for two days.”

Then to grind it in further, he told her, “We were both so exhausted, we didn’t have the energy to spend two days in New York like we’d planned. We had to change our plane tickets and just relaxed at home before we were ready to come back.”

Trish had gotten under his skin and he was bearing his fucking claws. I thought he was so hot and cute; all pissed off and shit; not like he was with Zach. Trish asked, “So why were you with him, Robby?” I needed to stop this. 

I put my left arm around his neck and gave him a noggie with my right. I told her “This is my brother from another mother, and another father,” and that got a laugh.

Trish asked, “What’s that mean?”

Rob jumped in and said, “That means none of your.”

I said, “Robby, be nice.”

But he didn’t let up. “You should’ve seen him at the airport; he charmed the pants off the ticket girl. By the time he was done we had been upgraded to first class and she was calling him, RJ.”

I leaned over and asked Cindy for a pen. I grabbed a drink napkin and started writing. When I finished, I folded it up.

Rob went on, saying, “We even got a plane change. We got home early enough to go to the space needle for dinner before we met Parker, Josh, and everyone.”

He looked at Parker and said he hoped he would be invited back for the fourth of July, adding, he loved the Law and Order. He was rubbing Trish’s nose in it; I didn’t think he would let up.

Cass, I guess, looking to have some fun too, said, “It wouldn’t be a party without you, sweet cheeks.”

I slid the note to Beth making sure Trish saw. Beth just put it in her lap.

Cass said to Trish; “Oh… you should see the pictures I took of these two. You two were so fucking hot in those tight cutoffs, all slippery and shinny with lotion. Aren’t they just candy to your eyes?”

Fuck, I was getting hard just listening to her. She looked at Trish and said, “I saved a couple of the best ones for myself, if you know what I mean.” and winked at her. “I must have taken 25 or 30 just of them.”

I looked at her and said, “I got 4. What the fuck, Cass?”  

She said, “I told you, I kept some.”

Trish said, “It sounds like fun. How can I get invited?” Ha, ha, Cass.

Fortunately, our food came and the conversation chilled as we dug into our dinners. Trish asked Josh and Randy how they knew me and Josh told her he met me through Parker a couple years ago. We had been friends ever sense and I shopped at his store.

He informed her, he ran a clothing store.

She asked, “He gets his clothes from you?”

I guess, not liking the tone of her voice or whatever; Josh put his fork down and rested his chin on his hands and gave her that look. “Is there something wrong with the way he looks, dear?” She had struck a nerve.  

“He looks great.” she said defensively.

He said “Damn rights he does. I dress both of them, Hun,” with a little flair.

I guess it was pick on Trish night. Rob loved the tag teaming that was going on. Cass said, “Let me see the watch Robby.” and he held up his wrist. I had told her about it and she was helping him rub it in.

Beth took the note out of her lap and read it. Trish saw the smile she gave me as she put it in her purse. Our dinner conversation weaved back and forth, we had finished and our dishes were cleared. A couple of us had coffee and I made eye contact with the waiter and nodded.

I excused myself from the table, saying I needed to use the restroom. I walked up to the piano and started an intro to happy birthday as the waiter brought the cake to the table; candles and all. I could see the look of surprise on Robby’s face. It was priceless. He was turning red and all eyes were on him.

I went into the full happy birthday song as the entire wait staff started singing happy birthday, accompanied by the whole restaurant, and a round of applause at the end. It was fucking perfect. Rob was red as a tomato.

Everyone at the table was laughing when I walked up and said “Happy Birthday, Jr.” and winked at him. He was speechless. His eyes were full and he was shaking his head.

Remembering; I said, “Use your words, Rob.”

That put a smile on his face as he remembered saying that to me, and what had happened just before.

“You’re so going to get it, Ryan,” he stated as he discreetly wiped his eyes.

Remembering again; I said, “Good. A full sentence.” and smiled back at him. It was our little joke.

I made him cut the cake and he passed it around, passing to Trish, last. We finished our cake and it was pushing on eight and I nodded to the waiter for him to bring the check.

I looked at it and gave him my card. He came back and I was signing, Rob saw I was leaving a hundred-dollar tip. Then he saw the total at the bottom. He looked at me and I winked at him again; getting a big smile in return.

Still pick on Trish, night. Before Trish could lock arms with me, Cass, cut in front of her taking my arm. She gave me a smile and a squeeze and one of those bitch smiles at Trish.

She reached over with her other arm and took Rob’s. Still looking at Trish, she said, “Oh… an R and R sandwich and I’m in the middle,” in the slutest voice I ever heard.

When we got out of ear-shot I said, “What is wrong with the two of you?” I really didn’t expect this.  

Our cars were lined up and mine was in front. Trish was acting like she wanted to ride with me but Cindy took her by the arm and said, “You can ride with us” and pulled her away.

Parker came up behind me and asked, “Residual from the club? I thought it was kind of hot. I thought he was going to scratch her fuckin eyes out.” and then he asked, “You really dislocated a guys’ arm?” I shrugged and nodded. He laughed and shook his head.

Rob was already in the car when I got in. As we were pulling out I looked at him. All I did was say his name and he unloaded.

“Can you even believe that bitch? Who in the hell does she think she is, anyway? I could have hit that cunt myself; thinking she’s all that and then some.” He was actually becoming hysterical with his head bobbing back and forth.

He paused for a breath and I said in a high pitched voice “I wanted to see you squirm.” reminding him that he gave me the phone last weekend.

“Oh… you think that’s funny; do you, Ryan? I mean really. She thinks I am out of line? Can you believe her?” He was on a serious rant. “She’s the one that tried to fuckin hit you. She knew exactly what would happen when she went up, hanging all over you and shit,” he finally ended breathing hard. I couldn’t hold back a smile.

OK. I think that was wordy enough. I have clearly explained, Hollywood and Dr. Chancellor.Back to tonight:

We had finished dinner and I got up, adjusted myself, then did what I do. They all thought the only reason I came here tonight was on the off chance they might come in. That was always my goal; like Harold taught me. People eat that shit up.

I made my rounds; acknowledging every person who had chosen to have dinner with RJ tonight. And Sid was at my side. I watched Rob as I worked the room and he lifted his glass to me showing his approval.

I did what was expected as their host; shaking hands, kissing and complimenting ladies, laughing at jokes that weren’t funny, and buying a drink or bottle of wine for those who kept me in business.  

This is what I was meant to do and thank god for Sid; he remembered everybody’s name. People love to be acknowledged personally and Sid’s mind was a steel trap.

He never forgot a face or a name. As we moved from guest to guest he would remind me quietly so when we got to a table I could address everybody by name. It made them feel special. And I always acknowledged Sid to my guests.

If you want your employees to be happy you need to give them credit for everything. I was the face of RJ’s, but it wasn’t a one-man show.

We were an experience. That’s what eating should be all about. It wasn’t just our food or the presentation. It wasn’t just our amazing view that cost me up the ass. And it wasn’t just me or my staff.

Sid was honestly the glue that held my fine house of food and drink together. He knew ever conj airs in the city and RJ’s was there first recommendation. Sid made a bundle on the side always keeping an open table and I looked the other way. He deserved it.

Most of my guests were regulars; people with standing reservations; like the Governor. There was an elite group that really kept RJ’s in business. And you just never knew who you might see.

All of my waiters had clients who would only allow them to serve and we accommodated that. People like to think they are among friends. And my guys made a ton of money for making them feel that way.

If you wanted to impress someone you would bring them to, My Lake House. My staff knows you, and that, in its self, is impressive. And RJ’s staff would make sure your night was enjoyable just as I had taught them. And even tell you who else was here at the time.

Not every person could see the others in the dinning rooms and Harold had shared another little piece of advice. My boys paid attention to who was friends with whom and always pointed people out.

In a fine house like mine it is customary to acknowledge those you know. And how better to do that than a bottle of wine or a round for the table; maybe even buy their dinner.

One night we had fifteen tables trying to out do their friends with a higher priced bottle of wine. That is a fuckin money maker right there. Many cars spent the night with us that evening.

We opened at 4:30 and at 4 the staff all met and Sid would give a rundown of the night. Like I said, my guys knew how to do their job. Everyone had notes on their regulars, what they ate, what they drank, what specials they could recommend, and who their friends were.   

Robby just watched me. I thought of how it could have been; how it should have been; both RJ’s working the room like I’d always envisioned, but it still remained just a wish; one of Ryan’s few unfulfilled dream.  

RJ’s was the place to be seen. ‘Don’t want to brag; but it was.’ The Governor was a Friday night regular just like the one before him. I guess when the State Patrol clears the way for you, the hour plus drive from Olympia only takes about half that. The Mayor of Seattle and City Council were among that group as well as The King County Executive.   

I had become a little political; as of late, and learned how to throw my weight around. And I did. In late 1989 I was asked to be on a ‘Blue Ribbon Commission’ by the former Governor, Booth Gardner. I was twenty-nine years old.

---

From the Author:

 Ok, my anonymous friends. I am going to take the road off to the far, far, left for a minute. I know we are all here to forget the real world, forget the things that make us lonely and seek what we are looking for here; but wake up dear ones.

I am going to share the harsh reality with you and what it’s like to live in the real world; at least what RJ’s world was like in late 1989 and early 90. Hold on.

*************

Some awful shit had been happening in Washington over the last few years. The then, Governor Booth, thought by attaching my name to the Commission a level of validity might be achieved. I was a parent, I was known to many, and at the time, I was neutral. And I wasn’t a victim or a survivor.

If I had known exactly what that meant, what it would do to me, and how it would change the man I have grown into today; I surly would have passed. This Commission was charged with developing a curriculum for law makers to act on; concerning sex offenders.

We had several high profile, horrific, crimes against children; including rape and murder. Rape in general and crimes against children were on the rise and it was our mandate to help bring about a change in our State Judicial System.

Over the next six months I met with victims and the relatives of victims. I heard shit that you can’t forget or unlearn; horrors that can cause you to loose sleep or have nightmares when you do; still to this day. And at the same time I was designing my lake house.  

One day I sat and listened as a father described how a man had taken his son. The bastard spent three days doing things to his little boy before finally allowing his child to die. And he recorded it all. Little Lee, was five. And Dad listened to the tapes in court. I couldn’t even imagine. It made me sick to my stomach. He shared so much with me and we talked in to the early morning sitting in a dingy building on the Capital Campus.    

The sick son of a bitch had also done the same thing to a set of brothers. Wesley Allen Dodd was put to death. It was the fastest execution in Washington State history.

He pled guilty on all counts and didn’t appeal. “If you ever let me out I will do it again,” he told the court. I would have flipped the fuckin switch myself. Swear to god, I would have.’  

One story in particular touched my heart more than all the others; maybe because he survived. His mother was also on the Commission. Her seven-year old son had been raped and mutilated by a man who should have never seen the light of day. And never will again.

I wept as she described to us the atrocities that her son endured. I thought of my own boys and actually broke down into a blubbering mess. She comforted me and where this single mother found her strength; I have no idea.

We became friends and she allowed me to meet her son who had been kept in the shadows. They arrived at our home on a sunny Saturday and when I laid eyes on this blond nine-year old boy, I wanted to explode.     

How, could anyone, do something to a child like what had been done to him? He was blond and blue eyed; looked like any other boy; but he wasn’t. I could see it in his eyes; the torture, pain, and fear that would haunt him until he took his last breath. That’s just wrong.

When they were getting ready to leave that day we stood in front of each other and waited. I counted the small scars around his neck from the barbed wire that bound him to that tree. Eventually, what saved his life?

I opened my arms not knowing what to expect. His head nestled under my chin as he fell agents me and squeezed.

 My hand rested on the side of his face and I wished at the time I could do for him what I could for Rob. White hair, be dammed. And I kissed the top of that sweet boys’ head.

“You are a good man!” he told me as he squeezed one last time and let go.

My eyes had already started to fill thinking, there was nothing special about me, and I was going to lose it. I saw his mother had tears in her own eyes and I took a deep breath hoping for composure. 

She came and rested her head on my shoulder. “I haven’t seen him do that since. He hasn’t even let me hug him. Thank you, Ryan.” And I squeezed her, letting go, having to walk away.

Robin just let me sit and cry in the back yard with Lady and a bottle between my legs. She supported me through all this shit. This whole thing, everything, had been so hard on me. I wished I could just forget all the bad shit that had consumed me for a year. But I was never a victim and neither were my boys. And it was going to stay that way. 

For fifteen years I watched that young man, grow; even at twenty-three he still hugged me. In 2005 I sat in the front row of a church looking at the three pages I had written that lay in my lap. I was fuckin numb.

I stood looking out over the hundreds of people who had come to pay their respects to the strongest person I ever knew. I stared at his mother and then my grown boys; one a stoner, and the other a scholar; but both loved him as a big brother.  

I crumpled the paper in my hands and spoke from the heart. I really don’t recall what I said. I do remember thinking as I looked around; could my death produce such a crowd? And tears just ran down my cheeks. The world is less in his loss and that’s all I’ll say about him.

---

1990

After months of labor we presented to The Governor, a two-thousand -page document called, ‘The Citizens Protection Act.’ Contained within those pages were some of the most ground breaking pieces of legislation ever; ‘Notification and Registration and, Civil Commitment.’

These laws along with many others we recommended to protect children and victims were used as a model in other states around the nation. They swept through our system in record time and I somehow became the face of that.

These new laws went to every committee for approval. Each of them required community input and that meant me. I have no idea how many times I spoke. And I stood behind the Governor as he signed each one in to law.  

I thumbed my nose at the pomp and shit of government as my boys sometimes sat in a Senators’ office. I knew many in the Senate as well as Legislators. They would call me by my sir name and I would refer to them by first name; showing them that their title didn’t mean shit to me. 

“Yes my friends there is a fiscal note,” I would say as I stood making my intent known. It was always about money. “What is the cost of a child?” I would ask. “What is the cost of your child? If you don’t pass these bills I guarantee this will be the last committee, you ever serve on and I will lead the crusade to elect someone who will stand up for victims.”

“Don’t try and threaten us, Mr. Chancellor.” One Chair said like she was scolding a child.  

“I never threaten, Madam Chair. You know me, Carol. It’s just a fact; you’ll be gone.” I said with my smile.

They did know me and most were scared of what I could do and the influence I had. I’d grown a huge set of balls. Reporters were always outside wanting a comment from me. I assured them that the committee would do the right thing; and they always did. 

This was one of the hardest times in my life, although I remember back on it and think it was one of my greatest achievements. And as sickening as the topic was I truly made a fuckin difference.

It’s a humbling experience my friends to know that something you did will affect lives for years to come. People I will never meet; children I will never know; are safer now. And animals that would hurt them will sit behind bars and rote. I am proud to tell you I had a hand in that.  

I am ashamed to say I got caught up in the talk show circuit. I spent days in the air going from Sally to Opera, Montel to Maury, Springer and Geraldo: I even went to England.

Every time a child was raped or murdered my phone would ring and it would start all over again. How it sickened me that the names of dead children were being attached to Laws around the country.

I would go when asked where ever I could help. I’d speak to those who needed to be shaken or drug into reality. I would console grieving families and the media loved my ass. I could rally people and get everyone’s attention. I made shit happen.

I would publically accuse lawmakers of being heartless bastards turning a blind eye to the most vulnerable for the sake of their budgets. I was bleeped more times than not. The only way to defend them selves was to act.    

In early 90 I was doing a local show in Atlanta after an awful crime; just kind of going through the motions. Suddenly I focused on the man across from me and listened to what he said.

I fuckin snapped…… I knew something bad was going to happen; I was helpless to stop it. I actually leaped across the stage in a blind rage to beat the fuck out of a piece of shit that had just admitted to molesting a young boy; but said he was a victim too.

Cry me a river; I, don’t, fuckin, care, people. Every story I heard drove my fist harder into his face. It is true though; most victims become abusers and turn their rage agents a helpless child. It just never made any sense to me.  

Well, I think that’s when they started having big guys just off stage. Before they could pull me off I have no idea how many times I hit him to the applause of the audience. I truly think I would have caved his head in with my fist.

It sickened me to look at his bloody and broken face. What have I done? I watched as they put him on a stretcher and wheeled him out. My right hand was in a cast for two months and I ruined a thousand- dollar suit.

I was whisked from the studio in a limo before any cops came; bloody rag wrapped around my hand. And I was dropped at the airport before the show was pulled and never aired.

I sat in my blood splattered suit at a bar in the airport trying to numb the pain; blood soaked rag still around my right hand, and I watched a clip of what happened on the TV. It was going to air tonight.

 Everyone was looking at me. I hit him fifteen times with my right hand in slow, fuckin, motion, and never felt a bone break; mine or his. The show was to air that night and I called Chuck from the bar.

 I explained what happened and told him I thought I was set up by the studio. ‘I could be a hot head.’ Chuck and his firm made sure the show never aired and he got me off by giving the guy ten grand not to press charges. I offered another ten if I could do it again when my hand healed. My drinks at the bar were paid for by those sitting around me.

 “These things happened. If you are one of those, sick, sons a bitches, I’ve described; do us all a favor and just crawl into the bathtub and drag a razor slowly across your fuckin throat.”

I needed to tell you that so I could tell you this. OK, I guess I didn’t need to tell you that, but I did.

 I spent many hours defending and trying to rationalize away the phobia that had surrounded gay men. These crimes had started a movement that all gay men were pedophiles and rapists. I refused to let that train start down the track.

I knew this wasn’t true; knew that most every gay man was only looking for love; whose goal was not to rob a child of their innocents or throw themselves at some unwilling person. “We want what everybody wants.”

Sitting behind those closed doors I had people say awful things to me and even throw shit at me. But I held my ground. 

“Gay is not a choice people. We all love with our heart and not our minds. Just because a man loves another man doesn’t mean he wants to rape your children.

The heart loves what the heart loves.” That was my mantra; I think I may have swayed a few. And I thought of Robby and me every time I argued my point.

Because of my involvement with all of that I was an unwilling candidate for a senate seat in 92. I had been hounded for a year by the Governor and democrats around the state. I would have been the youngest in years.

I had done my part though and had no interest at all; and knew if I did, I’d never get out. I just couldn’t do this anymore. The republican senator in my district told me she wouldn’t have a chance for another term if I ran and I never threw my hat in putting all my support her way and she was great doing a lot of good.       

I have said enough and will move on.        

It was not uncommon to see sports figures, movers and shakers, and on weekends there were concerts in town; people like, Elton and Billy, along with Ann and Nancy, and many others. Maybe even Bill and Paul would be in the corner talking about some new program could be seen dining at my Lake House.  

I returned to the table and slid in so we were sitting a little closer to each other than before; almost side by side. “Robby? What do you feel when you think of me?” I asked, with my still broken heart. “When the distance between us, hurts?”

In 1981, I had some shit happen with a car load, ‘A train car load’ of cedar, and needed to fly to Chicago. We are talking six truck loads. It was a potential for thousands of dollars. Rob didn’t go with me. That was the first and last time it ever happened. 

I felt it after about fifteen minutes in the air. We were never meant to be that far from each other. And until I landed I didn’t realize what the distance between us had done to Rob. 

It was hard on me; an ach that grew; an emptiness that is impossible to describe; a splitting or emotional tearing apart, but it threw him into a tailspin. And we never separated again.

I called home when I landed and Parker answered the phone. “Ryan, you need to come home, NOW. Robby is a fuckin basket case. Ryan, you need to come back home.”

He explained about Rob’s condition; he was crying uncontrollably, holding his body like it was being eaten from the inside out, was moaning my name, and he had called Parker for help.

I flew home less than twelve hours later and we held each other for a day trying to repair what the distance between us had done. And to this day we still knew when we were more than a hundred miles apart.

***********

That question seemed to trigger a deep sadness for him and I watched as his eyes got visibly wet. “Do you even need to ask, Ryan?” he chocked out.

“I need to know. I need you to tell me, Robby. I can’t feel it anymore. Let me feel it again. Please.” I shouldn’t have pushed him, shouldn’t have made him sad, but, I wanted to hear him say it.

He found my hand under the table and my eyes filled before our fingers interlocked. I remembered the first time I held his hand.

Flash back.

1977

“Have you, I mean, with Josh or Zach. Have they?” and he trailed off.

 “Is there a question in there somewhere, Robby?” I asked.

He replied, “No, I guess not. It doesn’t make any difference anyway.”

I told him he looked baked and asked if he just wanted to go to bed? He looked at me and said, “I am, but not so stoned we can’t still, you know.” We climbed out; I grabbed the bong as he put the cover on the tub. By the time I came out of the bathroom he was in bed, smiling.

I crawled in naked and saw he was too. “How should we start this, Robby?” I asked. He pulled the covers down exposing both our toys; we were at about half mast.

I reached up to the headboard getting the lube I kept behind my alarm clock. I put a few drops on myself then a few on him, and put the bottle back without putting the cap on.

We worked it in and started stroking, “Want to race?” he asked enthusiastically.

“What’s your rush, Rob; you got somewhere you need to be?” I questioned.

He looked at me and I continued by saying “I like to spend some time just enjoying the feeling, building up slow, and teasing myself a little.” He followed my lead slowly stroking him self, copying what I was doing.

We were watching each other and I told him I like to get real close, then slow down, let it pass, and start all over again.

He told me he did it fast and I said, “I like to take my time.”

His beautiful unit was close to the same size as mine, maybe a little bigger at the base. Both of us circumcised; around 7″ and we might have been able to squeeze them into a toilet paper roll. It was perfect.

We both were getting close for the first time and I slowed down; just working my shaft for a while leaving the head alone. Robby seemed to be matching my moves and I saw a little bubble  slip out of him.

I squeezed my balls and ran fingers up my shaft getting a drop of my own to come out, then rubbed it around my head.

I told him we were crossing a line; I hoped things wouldn’t get weird between us. He told me he didn’t think that was going to happen.

I reached up with my left hand giving my right nipple a little pinch and let out a soft moan. He looked at me and I told him that guy’s nipples were no different than girls.

Then I reached over and gave a pinch. That is kind of nice he admitted, and I asked why he had never done that before. He said when he beats off; all he wants to do is cum.

I said, “There’s no need to rush tonight, Robby. The more we prolong it, the better it will be.” Then I reached over, pinching and twisting his nipple again.

I fumbled behind me for the bottle but he grabbed it before I could. He put a few drops on himself then a few on me and put the bottle back. He said the lube was nice and he did it dry most of the time. I shared that spit really was the best lube.

Feeling bold, I licked my stroking hand then reached over taking his shaft in mine; his naturally moving to allow my fondling. It was like touching an electric fence and lightning raced through my body straight to my brain then exploded.

I closed my eyes and stroked him a few times, tightening my hand around his head when I got to the top. The sight of what I had seen a few weeks ago was now in my hand and I was stupefied again. He made no effort to move my hand and really didn’t give me any kind of reaction other than a little tremor.  

I unwillingly released him, wrapped my hand around my own unit again, and told him his felt a lot like mine. He reached over and took hold of me and I almost came in his hand. I asked him to go slow, “I’m getting close; Please, I don’t want to cum yet, Robby.”

He commented that he thought mine was longer, maybe a little bigger at the base and he had never felt any ones’ cock other than his. He stopped short of asking if I had. And I didn’t offer.

“Can I move now, Ryan,” he asked with a smile and a small squeeze; his hand still holding me. I was so close.

I nodded and put my hand back on him and we slowly started jacking each other again. I told him it felt really good and he replied by squeezing a few more drops out of me and rubbed it around my head with his thumb.

“I’m getting close, Ryan.” he breathlessly announced for the third time.

I asked if he wanted to finish himself off but he shook his head no and told me he liked the way I was doing it. With him saying that, it got me closer, and we started stroking each other rhythmically with a little more determination.

On my up strokes; I was running his shaft through my whole hand, giving the purple head extra attention. We were both getting into it and weren’t going to put it off any longer.

I started moving my midsection up and down; fucking his hand and he followed my lead. We could tell the other was getting close. He started bucking up into my hand and then would slow, so just his head was getting stroked. I looked at my cock pushing in and out of his hand then looked over at him.

He was watching me with a little smile on his face. He said, “I’m going to make you cum!” And he did. Boy did, he. If I hadn’t been watching him watching me; I would have gotten the first hit in my eye, but it hit me on the cheek.

I produced a creamy trail from his hand to my face. He shot right after my first wad and we stroked each other with determination. After about 30 seconds of nonstop groaning, we were spent.

We had cum all over us! Rob had shot over his head the first time and hit the headboard. I must admit, he came hard. I felt it pulse through my hand. I kept stroking him until he rested his hand on mine and said I just had to stop, while he squirmed.

He had cum on his face and chest, our hands were covered with each others seed, and I squeezed him a little to get the last drops out. I didn’t want to shock him, but I just HAD to taste him.

I licked his cum off my hand looking over at him for a reaction. He looked at me and did the same and stated with a huge smile “We are cum brothers now, Ryan.” He said that he didn’t think he had ever cum so hard or that much in his life.

In our rush to get started, we didn’t have a towel or anything to clean up with. I looked at myself then at Robby. We had cum all over us and it would have taken a beach towel to clean us up, maybe two.

I glanced at the clock, it was 12:45, and I said I thought a shower was in order. I got up with cum running down my body and in the dim light of my bedside lamp I made my way to the bathroom.

I started the shower and stepped into the hot water. I stood under the rain head thinking about what we had just done; wondering; where do we go from here. I opened my eyes as a cum covered Robby came into the shower.

I smiled as I told him he had cum in his hair and most everywhere for that matter. Smiling back at me he said, “You got a lot of room to talk!”

He stood under one head, washing away his spent seed.

I turned to him and asked, “How about you wash my hair for me?” Adding that was one of my favorite things, and it was.  

He quickly grabbed the shampoo and went to work on my head. It really was something I enjoyed. Zach and I showered together most every morning when I stayed with him. I leaned my head back rinsing my hair and by the time I opened my eyes, Rob had soap and a washcloth and he started washing my chest.

It felt so good; him running his hands over my body. I was getting hard again, even after a mind blowing orgasm. I rinsed and said, “OK, your turn,” not even trying to hide my excitement.

I put shampoo in my hands rubbing them together then ran my fingers through his hair. I liked my head scrubbed so I washed his, the way I liked it. I found he liked it the same way. He rinsed his hair and I got the soap and foamed up my hands then started sliding them over his back.

I ran my hands over his shoulders and from behind, I pulled him a little closer, so I could reach his chest. This wasn’t helping my hard on any and I noticed he was a little thick too. I didn’t know if it was from him washing me, or me washing him but I threw caution to the wind and asked, “Didn’t you get enough?”

He looked down at himself and then back at me and said, “I have never cum like that in my life, Ryan.” I told him it was over the top for me too.

We stood in the shower enjoying the hot water running over our bodies. I knew I had to say something to break the ice, so to speak. Before I could say anything he turned asking “Ryan? Was this a one-time thing?”

In my mind, I was thinking three times a day wouldn’t be enough for me, but that’s not what I said to him. “Robby, we have been spending a lot of time together. If you keep sleeping in my bed; No, this wouldn’t be the last time it happens.” And it wasn’t.  

He smiled at me and said, “I hope not.”

We dried off and sat naked on the love set each taking another hit off the bong then went to inspect the bed. Other than the headboard, we had managed to keep the cum on us and with a swipe of a sock, what was on the headboard was gone.

I was wondering about putting on some underwear but when he climbed into bed naked; my mind had been made up for me.

He looked over at me and said, “Thanks for showing me a new way, Ryan.” adding he never took his time and thought my way was much better than dry and fast.

I could hear the wheels turning in his head but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what he was thinking. He finally said he had never done this with anybody else, but he was glad he had done it with me.

He then said, “Ryan.” and waited for me to reply.

“Yes, Robby.”

“Does this make us gay?” he asked softly.

 “No Rob, I don’t think it makes us gay. All guys jack off. A lot of guys do it with friends for fun. It’s more fun with company, don’t you think?”

“Definitely.” was his one-word reply.

He was happy with my answer, but I could tell there was more he wanted to ask. He was just trying to figure out how and what to ask, and if he really wanted the answer.

“Ryan, have you ever, I mean with Josh or Zach, did you do anything? I mean Josh is a good looking guy and I saw the way he grabbed your ass and stuff, it’s easy to see he likes you.”

I turned over towards him and he was looking at me as I tried to come up with an answer to his incomplete question.

Deciding to focus on the Josh part of the question I said, “You’re right; Josh is hot as hell and he has made it clear that he likes me. If your asking if I have ever gone to bed with him or anything, the answer is no.

I like girls Robby but, I can appreciate a hot guy too, like you. I take no offense when a good looking guy touches my ass or makes a pass at me. To me, it’s just as flattering as when a girl does it.”

I reached over and took his hand in mine. “There is so much more than sex, Robby. Like this,” holding his hand as we instinctively intertwined our fingers and I slowly rubbed my thumb over the back of his.

His hand was so warm and it felt like I had done this before. I had to fight the urge to bring his hand to my lips and kiss it. I looked at our clasp hands for I don’t know how long, our hearts synchronized again and I heard him say my name, softly.

“Robby, even something as innocent as this, can be more intimate than kissing or even sex. It isn’t always about getting off. You can fuck anyone, but sharing feelings, sharing your heart, is so much more fulfilling.”

Dick said, “Well done dummy.”

I held his hand in mine for a minute while we just looked at each other. I felt; well, I think we both felt, exactly what I was saying. I had a flash of the dream I had the other night.

Back to today:

 “I am so fuckin sorry, Rye.” He started. “I’m ashamed, I’m embarrassed, and I feel fuckin awful. And I have disappointed you.

But I broke my promises that I honestly thought I could keep. That’s something I will never get over.” And he squeezed my hand. “Is that what you wanted to hear? Feel better now, Chancellor?” he asked. He was being a little, fuckin, bitch, now. And it pissed me off.

“All I wanted you to say; all I wanted to hear and feel; was that you still love me, Robby. That’s really all I wanted. Are you happy now, Chancellor?” Ok; it was my turn to be a bitch.

I knew he could feel everything that was whirling around in my head; he always could. I longed to have things like they were; even still, and to feel him next to me every night in bed. But most of all I missed the walks in our fields of memories.

That was a place we shared and spent years building together; but now it was a place each trekked alone and had for a very long time. I missed that so much.

June 21st 1978. 

The morning after my eighteenth birthday.

I woke up close to noon still upside down in the bed with Rob propped up on an elbow smiling at me. I felt like what I can only describe as a sexual hangover; but his face, his smile, was all the medicine I needed; it was all I would ever need.

He brushed some hair from my face then painfully slow he traced that finger across my cheek, down my jaw, then down the middle of my body, slowly and lovingly, all the way to my hairline, eliciting the familiar shiver and contraction of my stomach that only his touch could provoke. He couldn’t help but smile at my reaction.

“Did you have fun yesterday, Rye?” he asked, with his knowing smile.

“You fuckin near killed me, Jr.” I replied; my eyes closing and remembering; unable to hold back my own smile.

His hand wrapped around my morning wood and he asked “Do you really think I could ever hurt you Ryan? I think you held up remarkably well, considering.” as he squeezed me.

I just closed my eyes again and shook my head a little as he rested his on my shoulder. I told him I didn’t know how he managed to pull off that whole party thing without me knowing and called him a little sneak.

“It really does feel good to make you happy, Rye. I absolutely loved turning you into what I did last night. I might have enjoyed it more than you.”

I told him I owed him a blackout sex session and his reply was “I can’t wait.” as he nuzzled further into my neck.

“I can’t either. Robby, just so you know; you’re my onion. To say you surprised me yesterday is an understatement. And last night, well, last night you showed me a part of you that I hope and pray I will see again, many times.”

I lay there quietly; his head on my shoulder, my arm around him, both of us naked, and still upside down in the bed. I went on a little journey; a reflection if you will; back to yesteryear.

This past year so many things had happened; a total fuckin emotional rollercoaster. I had changed in so many ways; Robby had also. Sylvia was right; I have so much love inside me; not just for Robby, but for everything.

All the things that had to come together; what if just one would have been off? Where would I be right now; right this minute? And what would be in my heart? And then there was Rob. What if he wasn’t in my life right now? If he wasn’t lying here next to me; would I have longed for something I never had?

I started to question if this was destiny? Would we have eventually found each other again? Had every twist and turn in our lives been set into motion long ago just to get us to where we were today; holding each other and feeling the way I did? Would I have gone through life feeling incomplete; not quite whole, and not knowing why? Would I have been deprived of what I feel now?

I could feel the two of us; at this particular moment our hearts and breathing were synchronized; was this meant to be? Last night; how we were with each other; would I have never known love like his? I knew exactly how it made him feel to make me happy, it was the same for me with him, and I was glad he was able to feel it too.

I was overcome; tears beginning to stream from the corners of my closed eyes. Before Robby; a tear had not fallen from my eyes in years, but now, now everything was different; I was different. Many were happy tears; some were shed from confusion, like now, but the first was when he called me, Rye.

I’m not a fuckin ball baby my anonymous friends but since Robby came into my life my emotions rest on my sleeve. I guess that’s what happens when you give yourself to someone; when you give ‘of’ yourself for another.

I would happily give him my last drop of blood. I would give up everything I have. And yes, what is left of my heart, the part he doesn’t already hold, I would give him that too.

Picture if you can; you’re standing in the middle of a wheat field; bright and golden waves of grain as far as your eyes can see; that’s your life, every stalks is a memory, and they are all yours.

You wander around admiring all you see, picking stalks of wheat and reliving the memories held within. You feel the pain and sorrow, all the ‘what if’s’, the pleasure, happiness, and all the joy of that moment.

That’s what I was doing this morning as I started my nineteenth journey around the sun; that’s what I’m doing right now as I type; the tears fall as freely today my friends as they did almost forty years ago.

Now imagine that the person you love the most is walking beside you, sharing it all with you; sharing what you feel, then lovingly planting a new stalk for every one picked.

That’s where I was that morning; picking the stalks that Robby had planted, that we had planted together; reliving what grew for me there, my heart swelling just a little more.

He truly was the start of my life and this place we shared, we did so, willingly; no conditions or stipulations, and I realized how bare my field would be if he didn’t share it with me; had he not helped me sow it, and another tear slides down my cheek.

I reached down and picked another; the day I saw his colors for the first time. It was like a bomb had gone off in my body and I became hypersensitive to everything. And I heard his voice asking if I felt it too.

The feel of his skin was so soft and slippery against mine. Then I opened my eyes and saw the shroud of colors that cloaked him; the beauty radiating from him, beyond words. Water droplets were glistening and sparkling like diamonds sliding down his body, his arms around my neck, and his forehead resting on mine. And I felt everything about him. Amazing what a single memory can hold.

I reached down and picked another; the morning he put his hand on my heart. He relieved me of the overwhelming sadness I was feeling that morning wondering if what we had would end some day. He gave me the feeling of clarity and helped me realize why I was feeling as I did. I suddenly understood the way we were connected even though the last of the puzzle pieces had not yet been put in place.

I felt the soft touch; his fingers making designs on my chest and I reached down for another. His voice startled me and I turned to see his face; him standing behind me in my field of memories.

“Not that one, Ryan.” His eyes; those eyes, telling me there was no need for this one again; ever.

He was here with me, but Robby was next to me in our bed also. That’s what it was like for us, he was always here; had been for a year, maybe longer, and would be always and forever. I stood, the stalk, the memory in my hand, and he said again “Put it back, please Rye.”

A drawback to our field of memories for me; the memory contained within may not be what you’re seeking, and you won’t know until it’s in your hand. I bent down and pushed it back into the fertile dirt, the soil that Robby tended for me, allowing the memory to grow till the day I was ready again. But he saw them all.

He smiled at me; bent down picking a long golden stalk and held it up saying, “This one, Rye.” It was a stalk from his field, the one that mingled with mine; this was one of his memories. I remembered as I remembered, but not as he did, and he shared it with me now.

It was the first time he saw me. His surprise and relief at the sight of me; the colors that surrounded my body making him so happy, he realized he had found the one he had been unknowingly searching for.

I remembered his eyes that day; the day they spoke to me for the first time; the shiver that ran up my back; now I was feeling what he did that day. He had dreamt of me from the time he was a little boy. From his earliest memory; I was the boy in his dreams with the colors.

Now I was standing right in front of him; the person who came to him in his sleep, the one who gave him comfort, and the one who protected and held him when he needed it most. He searched my eyes that day hoping to see some sign of recognition; something in my eyes that assured him I was the one.

Another tear escaped my eye, but before it could slide down my cheek his finger was there, there to wipe it away. That’s what it was like for us my friends. Was it a gift? Was it a curse? Was it destiny? I have no fuckin idea, but it was us, and I was growing so accustom to it. Would I have missed it should I lose it? Would my life go back to what it was before him?

I looked beyond him and the stalk, the memory he held in his hand and saw it; the structure. There were no structures in my field, but in his there were.

“Ryan. Over here.” He said, trying to distract me. I looked at him and he waved his finger in front of his face and shook his head back and forth; the way a mother would tell a child no.  

That wheat, the memories within the stalks hidden behind those walls; they were not to be shared again. The memories of the deer and so much more resided there, held captive far from where I could see. He had built that structure for Ryan, to shield me from his pain of what was held in those stalks of wheat, knowing how much it hurt me when he hurt.

He ran his hand around over the fine hair of wheat that stood at his feet like looking for a particular stalk. I watched him pull it out and he turned and smiled. It was the first time I had taken his hand in mine, that night we crossed the invisible line and touched each other; made each other cum for the first time.

This memory was the same for both of us; the same thoughts went through his head as they had mine. The natural way our fingers formed around the others. We both felt how it was so familiar; déjà vu for both of us. We were at a loss that night to understand why we were drawn to kiss our clasped hands.

Then the side memories came into view, each kernel revealing a fragment of the original held in the stalk as a whole. The day in the TR when he openly reached down and took my hand, knowing what it meant. And the day I refused to resist temptation and kissed his. I looked beyond him again, the structure looming in the background. “Robby?”

Back to today: 

We sat silent again; his hand still holding mine with the table cloth hiding what was going on underneath. “It looks like a cross between Kimos’ and Phil’s; the one in DC.” He announced as looking around.

“It should. That’s what I was going for when I designed it. You should see the kitchen.” I replied. We were quiet for a minute thinking about the first time we ate in both those places.

Sid walked over again and we released each others hand. He leaned in to whisper in my ear, “Boss, that huge guy is at the front desk making a scene because we don’t have a table.” Then he backed away looking for my reaction. It was loud enough for Rob to hear.

“You mean the black guy?” I asked, nonchalantly.

“You freak me out, Boss. How did you know?”

Rob looked at me and said, “No, fuckin, way?”

---

From your Author:

At the last minute, I decided not to dump fifty-thousand words on you all at once so I broke this chapter in half; sixteen thousand words. The next chapter will be from Robby’s POV on the same night. As always a big hug to our host along with the many Authors that keep us cuming back for more. RJC.

A little bit about myself: I am 19 years old, latino 6′ tall with an average 6.5 inch uncut dick stocky, meeting a man who is 50 years old, 5′ 4″ and with impressive 8 inch cut cock. The work took him away, having him in Florida while I was stuck here in Texas at school, but that is for a later part of the story. I was living in the dorms all by myself without a roommate. I would go to my parents’ house, about 1.5 hours away, for the weekend, just to wash clothes, when I met a guy on Grindr who would change my life.

How I met the epic love of my life.  

---

My name is Alex, and I was seeing my Boyfriend at the time, Troy, for some time. We met on Grindr one night, and I knew he was an averse person, but I always had a thing for short, bear-type daddies. We chatted on the phone for some time always being hesitant because I knew that his preference was to bottom and so was mine, as we chatted though i learned that he loved to suck dick and so what we decided to do one night was to head for his place. When I arrived, I walked up to the door, all nervous, thinking that the door would be open or that he would be much different from what I thought he would be. 

I texted him on Grindr letting him know that I was outside the door and didn’t want to knock since I didn’t know if he had a dog or something. He walked up to the door and he was very sweet inviting me in, as soon as i walked through the door all the lights to the house were off, there was a purple neon light on, on one of the nightlights that are in the living room, it was on low so there was just enought light to where you could see if there was something infront of you but not enough light to make anything out in the house. He has music playing in the background, telling me that he had music because in the guest room, he had his dog there, so that we wouldn’t be disturbed. 

“Do you want some water? You look a little bit nervous”. 

“I haven’t done something like this with someone as cute and sexy as you before”, was my response.

“Well, let’s take you to the bedroom then and get comfortable”.  As he said that, he grabbed my arm and walked me to the back master bedroom where he had the room in the same light on with a little bit of slow much without words playing. ” Why don’t you go ahead and just lie down on the bed and make yourself comfortable?”. 

I took that as my queue to go ahead and take off my shoes, I had a thing about my feel so i kept my socks on, in jeans and a shirt I placed myself on the bed right in the center, and on a king size bed that bedding made me feel like I was so small. As I lay there, I simply saw him take off his shirt and keep his jeans on.

As I stayed there looking at his gaze in the little light, He crawled from the end of the bed towards me, lying between my legs on his stomach, he unzipped my jeans and dropped my pants down. He got my pants down just far enough to where he could pull my boxers just enough to where he was able to take out my dick.

Just as he reached for it, he commented, ” uncut my favorite”, and just like that he went for it just to where he was able to put the head of my dick in his mouth and started to suck on it. He was grabbing my shaft why sucking on just the jead just enought to were a slight moan came out of me and he would look up at me. When I was able to look at his as he saw me all I did is grab his head and pushed he mouth to the base of my dick causing me to moan. 

He knew what I wanted, but instead, he pulled out just enough so that he started to nibble on the foreskin of my shaft, causing shivers all over my body. He would stick his toung and swirl it inside the skin and my forehead of my dick, the shock was so intense ” uhhh, that feels so good, dont stop”, as suck he would continue his motion. ” oh god”, is all that would be able to come out of my mouth and it was feeling so intense that I was moving my head and my eyes to the back.

“Uhh im about to cumm”, and as such he switched it up on me and he started to suck on my dick so vigourusly. “Uhh, oh my goddd, your suck a good mouth, you want my load daddy”, and with that he pulled out. ” Yeah, boy, give me all of it”, and he went back to the swirling, causing me to spasm in ecstasy. 

Every time that he would stick his dick in my foreskin and swirl in right before he would start sucking he would cause me to spasm out in the rush of almost cumming, every time it felt like he was going to make me cum or spasm out in pain and right when i felt like i was about to cum he would switch it up and start sucking on my dick so hard. ” keep swirling on my dick, ill tell you when to stop and start sucking my load out”, at that point he rached over for my nipples.

One hand would start to twist and pinch on my nipple while the other one would grab at my balls and dick as he would try his best to make me cum, it was about 40 minutes of this on and off again spasms making me want to beg his so hard to please let me cum and every time I was about to he would just start sucking on my dick. I was so sexually spasmed and frustrated that i grabbed his head and right as i started to spand I grabbed him with both of my hands and shoved his mouth down my cock.” you like that making someone was to bust so hard they beg”, I didnt let go. Instead i grabbed him and started to face fuck him cuasing him to completly fall on top of me where i was finnaly able to take controll and have him blow me hard.

“Uhhhh. I need this, im about to cum, please let me cum”, and instead of saying anything he grabbed my dick at the bad and started to suck as hard as he could making me spasm out again in the ecstasy, My body couldn’t tell if it was from the need to cum so hard or the fact it was real pain but i didnt care, all i knew is that i needed to cum in the that moment. 

” I’m about to cum, you want my load”. ” Mhmmh”.

“uhhh. Uhhh… Uhhhh. Here is comes, suck it out of me… Uhhhhh”, with that he was still sucking on my dick and swalled every bit of it. He kept sucking for a moment casuing me to spasm forward to him

“Uhhh… okay. You took my load”, “Sorry your cock tasted so good I wanted every last drop down my throat.  

He leaned forward and kissed me. Right as he kissed me he collapsed right on me from the long session of sucking on my dick. ” that was amazing, you were amazing troy”. ” Thanks, i love sucking on dick, your more then welcome to come again anytime”. 

“Thanks, I will, but since it is late, I must get back. I wasn’t expecting to be out for more than an hour”. 

” What you have a boyfriend or something waiting for you?”

“No, it is isnt that, I have to head back to campus because I start classes at 8 am and I was only staying the weekend with my parents to visit them. It’s about a 1-2 hour drive to get back to the dorms”.

“ahh. Okay, well, next time, I’ll walk you out.”

As with that, I put on my shoes and walked out, heading back home.

At the door, like a gentleman, he opened the door for me.

“Thanks,” and proceeded to walk out the door.

” Wait a second”, and grabbed my arm, pulling me back. When he pulled me back he grabbed me and went in to kiss my, ” mmm. I can’t wait till next time, next time I wont suck your dick instead I am going to fuck you, Text me” and with that he watched me as i headed to my car and drove down the street to the light to turn onto the main road.

As I drove home I kept tweeking in the car with mini spasms as if my dick was sensative to the very touch of my boxers. I thought of the amazing older guy that I just found, and was so nervous to even text because I thought of him so hot. When I got home to my parents’ house, I looked down at my phone, seeing that I had a text on my phone, from him nonetheless.

Text [ I hope that you enjoyed it, I normally dont just suck someones dck normal I Bttm, but with you I just wanna fuck you so hard and I couldn’t stop myself]

[ well thank you for the amazing time, that was the first time for me that anyone has gone down on me like that and just sucked me off to the point where they take my load. Normally it takes a very long time for me to just cum for that matter]

When I walked into the house, my mother greeted me, “Where have you been all night?”

” Mom, I told you that I was going out and that I was going to get home around 1-2 am.”

” You had me worried all night.”

” Mom, [looking at her, squinting with a face], I wasn’t out that late, and I told you. I am going to bed, I have to drive back to school tomorrow early in the morning.” With that, I went to my room and went right to bed so that I could continue to text Troy. 

When I grabbed my phone and that the message indicated

[ Well im going to bed my jaw hurts a little but till next time, youll take my load since you didnt do it this time]

[Deal], and with that I put my phone on the stand and passed out without even bothering to take off my clothes or anything. I was so tired from the exhaustion. 

The weather might have made my mood foul, or it could be that I had been waiting for over an hour for someone who had no thought for anyone but himself. Right now I don’t care much about him, either. Maybe I’m grumpy because it took longer than usual to lose my tails.

I raise a cigarette to my lips, my first all day. I know I shouldn’t, not before meeting, but I feel like telling the whole world to fuck off. I snap open my lighter and raise it to the tip, only to have the cigarette flicked from my lips.

It can only be Alex.

“I told you not to smoke until after we meet.”

I watch my cigarette disappear into the gutter with the rain. He grabs my collar.

“Come on, let’s go fuck.”

I don’t know why I agree to this in the first place. It would be more than possible to make two homophobic mafia families believe that the respective prized sons were gay, without using sex. Or to piss them off without fucking anybody. I know Alex is smart enough to come up with a way to do it, but he’s a pretty selfish bastard. I think part of him just likes knowing that he’s sticking it to the rival’s son.

“This way,” he says, tapping my arm. The hotel is nothing special. I stand by the elevator while he pays for the room. He uses his real name, then looks over at me, then adds my name as well. Yeah, I know we’re supposed to be caught.

His walk is jaunty as he strolls across the lobby to join me at the elevators. “Room 436,” he says. He sounds smug, though there’s really no reason for it. The only sound on the short ride to the fourth floor is the ding of the elevator and his humming. He always does that on elevators, and it’s almost always the same tune. Every time I hear that fucking Muppet theme now, I get a chubby.

I don’t know how many times we’ve done this over the last year—meeting up, fucking, then going on about our business. It’s irregular, but lately it’s been a lot. Alex always calls me first.

I don’t bother looking around while he opens the room. I lost my tail, but isn’t the whole point of this thing to get caught? I should have been less careful.

Alex starts undressing as soon as the door shuts. “I wanna fuck you in the ass,” he sings, which he only knows because of that old Swedish commercial that everyone rediscovered. Those are the only words he knows, too.

I sigh, and remove my coat.

“Are you ready?” Alex asks, folding his pants.

“Yeah,” I respond. “This is getting really dangerous, you know what I’m saying?”

“Sweet.”

At some point one round became two, then two rounds became two with foreplay, sometimes three without. It’s no longer a surprise when Alex comes up behind me and starts kissing my neck. I can feel his erection poking at my lower back. We’ve never done it standing up, but I think our height differences wouldn’t serve us well if we tried.  I finish unbuttoning my shirt while Alex unbuckles my pants. He nips at my neck and ear, unzipping my trousers to thrust his hand inside and cup my balls.

“Somebody’s eager,” I grumble. I sound like I don’t want it.

“Someone else is in a bad mood,” he replies smoothly, using his long fingers to coax me to full erection.

“I could have used that cigarette.” Dropping my shirt, I step away from Alex to shuck my pants and sit down on the bed. “I’m down to three per day, thanks to some nosy Russian bastard.”

“Do you have to go back to work after this?” Alex inquires.

I shake my head, watching him. He’s pale, and looks like he descended from some sort of ancient Arctic royalty. His hips are narrow and his body is slim. He’s built like a diver; just muscles running under skin, over bone. We don’t match.

“You’re giving me a weird look,” Alex says as he throws his briefs onto his neat clothes pile. “What’s up?”

I shrug. “Maybe nobody’s figured this—” I gesture between us, “out yet is because I don’t look like your type.”

Alex laughs, which makes his erection bounce. “You know nothing about gay culture, my friend. The gym is like a homo holy place.” He kneels between my thighs and runs his hand over my pecs. “All this is gay crack. It’s everyone’s type. I mean, I could stand to bulk up if I wanted to pull more hole. You’re a bite-sized muscle man with an amazing ass and a thick cock. Plus, your face really helps.”

“Huh,” I say, and that’s all I can manage before he goes down on me.

Alex is a genius at giving head now. His tongue never stops moving, whipping the underside of my shaft while his lips encase it, teasing the slit as he sucks on the head, teasing my balls when he takes them in his mouth. When he’s ready to make me cum, he starts bobbing up and down, faster and faster, and tugs my balls while he does it. Right when I can’t keep my hips still anymore Alex just works the tip, jacking my shaft with his free hand.

I think Alex likes it that I don’t warn him anymore, but that’s maybe because he can tell as well as I can when I’m going to shoot down his throat. I fall back on the bed and clutch the blankets, pushing my dick as far into Alex’s mouth as I can, shuddering with each spurt.

“Fuck,” I breathe hard. “Ah, fuck that’s good.”

“You came pretty fast,” he says, wiping his mouth. Alex grabs a condom and puts it on, watching me watch him.

“You got better,” I reply.

“That’s because I know what you like,” he retorts. “Lube up, Mario. My dick is Bowser and it’s coming for your Princess Peach.”

“Lame,” I retort, but I’m laughing anyway.

Round one is quick. I make sure my ass is slick and get on my hands and knees on the edge of the bed. Alex slides that long, slender cock into me, and then grabs my hips and starts pounding. He comes, I don’t, and then I clean up and flop into bed while he showers off. I don’t mind letting Alex get one nut out of the way. It still feels good. He’s just gearing up for the post-fuck post-nap fuck, the one that lasts longer and leaves me knobby-kneed and exhausted.

I lie there half-asleep, listening to him sing over the sound of the water and the patter of rain on the window.  I know the song, I think, some rock ballad from the nineties. He has a nice voice.

---

That was the first thing I noticed when he first approached me.  We met at a black tie event for some bigwig friend of both our families, maybe the birthday of an appropriately crooked politician. It was fancy enough to check your weapons and bodyguards at the door, so there was no one to stop him when he stood next to me.

“Do you have any idea why we’re here?” he asked in a mellow tone.

I glared at the glass of champagne in my hand. “None.” I wished it were a cigarette.

“You’re with the Fillipelli family, right?”

“Mario.” I looked over at him for the first time, noticing the fair skin, blue eyes, the wide mouth and light brown hair. “Ivanov. Alexander, isn’t it?”

“Alex.” His smile didn’t erase the boredom from his expression. “Our families are watching. Should we shake hands?”

I shrugged and offered mine.  He hung onto it when I began to draw back.

“You in the mood to piss off your people?” he asked suddenly.

I looked around quickly, and saw my grandfather, father, my uncles, and my cousins staring at us. I could guess which partygoers were related to Alex Ivanov by the daggers that were shooting at me from their eyes.

“Yes.”

“Awesome,” he said, and let go of my hand. “Then we are now best friends. Smile at me.”

I did.

“Let’s have coffee sometime.”

“Where?” I don’t know why that was the first thing out of my mouth.

“Café du Sud.”

I nodded. Haitian territory. Safe. “Wednesday at eleven.”

Alex clapped me on the back. We didn’t speak for the rest of the night, but fuck if I didn’t catch hell for talking to him. I pretended like I had no idea who Alex was. It was the most fun I’d had in years.

---

I wake up to the pressure of fingertips on my back. “What are you doing?” I mutter to the pillow. “What time is it?”

“Looking at your tattoos,” Alex responds. “You can go back to sleep. It’s barely two-thirty.”

He’s strange, but it is relaxing in the same way that it is to have someone play with your hair. His fingers run down the diamond that ends at the top of my ass, then trail slightly lower.

“Forget about it,” I say. “I will fart on your hand.”

Alex laughs. “I want to stamp my name right here,” he says, rubbing lightly.

“No one will ever get their name stamped on my ass, or anywhere on my body,” I reply.

“You’re running out of room,” he comments, tracing the muscles. “You’re going to have to start getting them here.”

I yawn. “Next one goes up the back of my neck.”

“Chickenshit,” Alex says. “If you’re going to be the one mafioso with tattoos, you gotta commit.”

I try to slap him, but I’m too sleepy. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“I’m fucking an idiot,” he rejoins. I snort. “Go back to sleep.” He ruffles my hair.

I do.

---

Originally, it wasn’t going to be like this. We were just going to make people suspicious, just for fun. That’s what he said on the phone before we met, at least.  It was Alex’s idea, and I set our pattern of behavior by agreeing to it. Or maybe Alex had recognized an impressionable kind of guy when he saw one. Either way, our first meeting ended with a blowjob.

There wasn’t much to say. We hadn’t made this appointment because of common interests except for pissing off our families. It meant sitting in each other’s presence with nothing to talk about. Alex tried, though.

“How many siblings?” he asked when we were waiting for our coffees.

“Six. But only my older sister, Juliana, and I are legitimate.” After an awkward pause I added, “We call the other ones our cousins.”

The waitress brought our beverages before I realized I was being rude. “You?”

Alex held up four long fingers. “Legit. We don’t know about any others.”

“Right.” I stared at my coffee. I don’t know why I always ordered it black. I hated the stuff, but all the saints couldn’t help me if I were to start drinking tea. That would be like asking to be slapped around until I’d knocked up a girl and beaten up a few fags.

“Earth to Mario,” Alex called.

I shook my head. “Sorry. Zoned out for a second. You were saying?”

“I think we’re bored guys with rotten families,” he said with a bright smile, leaning back in his chair, “and we’re ready to piss them off.”

Downing half of my coffee with a gulp and grimace, I asked. “Are you next in line?”

“Nah,” Alex replied. “I have two older brothers. They’re both fuckups, though, so I’m pretty important in the grand scheme of things. The brains behind the brawn, if you will.”

I nodded. I vaguely recalled hearing that.

“Heir to the junkyard throne or no, I’m tired of being under my family’s thumb. I need an accomplice, though.” He pointed a finger at me. “They can’t do jack shit to you. Your cousins could disappear, right? And your family won’t do shit to me, either.”

There were plenty of ways to irritate my family—learn Spanish, say nice things about feminism, badmouth the pope, refuse to hire ex-cons at the dealership, talk to cops…

“What do we get out of this?” I asked.

Alex cocked his head. “Aren’t you bored? Plus, this way they can’t get rid of my boyfriend.”

That surprised me. “You have a boyfriend?”

Laughing, Alex replied, “I will soon enough.”

“You’re gay?” I couldn’t believe he got away with that.

“You’re straight?” he quipped.

“Last time I checked,” I replied, but then again I’d never really thought about it. Maybe there were other men in red-blooded Italian families who grew up ogling hairy asses in the baths, but not I. Sex was great, not because I loved women, but because it was warmer and wetter than jacking off. Wasn’t I straight? I fingered the handle of my coffee cup so I wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. “Is that why you’re asking me to do this instead of my sister or something?”

“Probably.”

“So you’re probably gay,” I said. “Who’s your boyfriend?”

Alex stretched his hand across the table. It honestly took me a few seconds to realize that he had inserted two fingers into my sleeve and was stroking the valley between the tendons of my wrist. It was a bold move, even on neutral ground, but I didn’t move in case he was intending to make me uncomfortable. Just because I’m not the biggest guy around doesn’t mean…

“You’re slow,” Alex said with a slight smile.

Finally I folded my arms, but there was something new and electric in the air. “Forget about it. What if I don’t want to fuck another guy, you know what I’m saying?”

“Then you can just hang out with me and play along for a couple of months, because we can still make them think about anything we want. We’ll make them suspicious and stop before it gets too dangerous,” Alex responded easily. “Fuck whoever you want on the side. Girls think gay guys are hot, anyway.”

He took a sip of his coffee, and I watched his lips to see if I was at all turned on.

“My family is still in the we’ll-pick-your-partner mode, which needs to stop,” he clarified. “When I was a kid, my family forced some poor folk out of my neighborhood because they found me playing doctor on their son. And this boy I got caught making out with in junior high. Plus, I may have gotten this stripper pregnant, but she ‘up and left for a job in Vegas’ one day.” He put air quotes around the last phrase. At least his hand wasn’t in my shirt anymore.

“Muscle or money?”

“Money. Someday I’m going to find that greedy bitch. She probably lied about birth control.”

“Huh.”

We didn’t talk for another five minutes. It would have been awkward if I had bothered to think about it. Alex mostly just sipped his coffee while I fingered the lighter in my jacket pocket. On my territory I could have smoked and damned the other patrons. Then Alex asked, “If you had gone to college, what would you have studied?”

“Sports medicine,” I said, startled to realize I was serious. I said it again to be sure. “Sports medicine.” He was looking at me, so I added, “You?”

He pushed his hand through his hair. “Sociology and anthropology. Our families would be perfect for a dissertation.”

“Old country conservative types are nothing new,” I said.

Alex threw me off by laughing. “I guarantee I could find something worth writing about.”

“Anthropology,” I said.

“And sports medicine,” he replied. “What happens if my dick is broken?”

I laughed. “Surgery.”

He grabbed my wrist suddenly, pulling me out of my seat. “Come take a look,” he said. I think he was laughing at me when I threw a twenty on the table. The cook in the kitchen gave us a weird look, like he was about to yell at us, but we were through too fast.

That dirty back alley looked no different than any other, I’m sure, but what I remember most is two firm hands on my shoulders, pushing me to my knees, then unzipping dark jeans to expose a half-hard uncut cock.

I suppose I was in shock. “I thought you’d be circumcised,” I said, just before one of those hands reached to the back of my head and the other pushed the cock to my lips.

“Orthodox,” he informed me. “Not that it means anything. My family’s no more Christian than Judas.”

I couldn’t respond around the cock in my mouth. There was cock in my mouth. I put my hand on his thigh. I had a cock in my mouth.

Alex tilted my head back. “You look confused,” he said, his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Need help?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Don’t think about anything,” he advised, and then pulled me back down by my hair.

My nose was cold despite the warmth of the summer. Every time I touched Alex with it, he shivered. I discovered that I could roll the foreskin back and forth with my lips, at least until the glans got too big. There was a large vein on the underside that wrapped around to the left.

“Suck on the tip,” Alex instructed.

I closed my lips over the top and sucked.

Alex ran his fingers through my hair. “That’s good,” he said, breathing heavily. “Play with my balls a little.”

The wrinkled pouch was covered with crinkly hair, but his legs and ass were smooth. Maybe I was a little gay, since I didn’t mind this.

“Try going up and down on me. Lips and tongue only.”

I did, keeping my hands on his thighs. Alex was guiding my head with his hands, but wasn’t putting much pressure on me. There was a cock in my mouth. What if someone wondered why two men had burst through the kitchen, and came out to check? They’d see me on my knees giving a blowjob. Nobody here knew who I was, but someone from my or Alex’s families had to be nearby. Could they see me? Was it obvious that I wasn’t being forced?

Alex interrupted my wild stampede of thought. “How do you like giving head? Not so bad?”

I shook my head, keeping my lips attached to his cock. It was amazing how something so hard could be so smooth. I knew what a cock felt like in my hand; every guy starts jacking off as soon as he learns about it. This time I could see it so closely, I could smell it, I could taste it, and I could hear the slick noises my lips made when I slid back and forth. Maybe it was that kind of overload that made the experience so—incredible.

Alex came without a sound, clutching my hair in fistfuls, his legs shaking. It was amazing, feeling his cock quiver on my tongue, pulsing as it shot bitter semen against the roof of my mouth.

Breathing hard, Alex ran his fingertips around my ear and said, “I want you to swallow it.”

I did. The texture was like swallowing snot, or maybe pudding. Should I have hated it?

Alex grinned. “I can tell you’re going to be good at this,” he said. “That was nice, for a beginner.”

For a guy who claimed heterosexuality about half an hour earlier, skills in smoking pole shouldn’t be a compliment. I wiped my mouth and stood.

“Are you hard?” Alex asked, brushing his fingers across my zipper. That made me uncomfortable.

“No,” I responded honestly.

“Oh.” He seemed surprised. “Okay, well, next time. I’ll owe you one.”

I should have known then what that meant. Still, when we met again and Alex took me to a hotel I was caught off guard.

---

I wake up again when Alex stirs. It’s getting dark outside and I want a cigarette. Careful not to disturb the man sleeping on my chest, I reach over the side of the bed. I fumble for the pack in my coat pocket, only to find a much larger box.

“What the hell?” I grumble, yanking it from the coat. It’s nicotine gum. Fucking hell. Alex must have replaced it before he fell asleep. My cigs will be crumpled up in the trash by now. Selfish asshole.

Alex sighs and squeezes my waist. I think he’s still asleep, but it’s time to go.

“Hey,” I say. I poke him in the cheek. “We need to leave.”

“Hm mm,” he disagrees, burying his nose into my chest. The sheet is draped partially over his buttocks, exposing half of the design that scrawls over them. Alex is exactly the type of guy to get a tattoo that covers both his ass cheeks. It barely avoids being a tramp stamp.

“Seriously, we need to get a move on,” I insist. “Ouch! Quit fucking biting me!”

Alex opens an eye and grins, removing his teeth from my nipple. “You like it.”

I do.

“You know, Mario,” he says, propping his chin on his fist. “Being around you is like trying to solve a Rubik’s cube. I get excited every time I figure something else out. It’s like ‘fuck yeah, I owned you, Rubik’s cube.’”

“Huh?”

“Well, you don’t talk much,” Alex explains, “so I have to figure out a way to pull everything out of you. At first I couldn’t even tell if you liked being around me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about you, either.”

I’d heard that before from frustrated women. In their eyes at first I’m mysterious, then I’m just quiet, and finally I’m unfeeling. My own parents thought I was special needs until I was in junior high school.

“But you’re not simple,” he continues, playing with my belly button. “I know that there are a lot of wheels turning behind those dark eyes. Even when we’re fucking, I can tell you’re thinking about shit, as though the act of being fucked is a philosophical journey into the dark heart of man.”

I turn my eyes to the ceiling and run my fingers through his hair. “You make me sound tortured or something.”

Alex sits up and straddles my waist. “Aren’t you, in a way? And I know you only play with my hair when you’re embarrassed.”

Well, he’s put his head too far out of reach for me to do that now. “Aren’t you fucking observant.”

“It’s because you’re fucking fascinating,” he replies, bending down to kiss me. “It’s a challenge, especially because the way you identified yourself has gotten knocked around ever since I got you to blow me in the alley.” Alex pats my cheek. “My goal is to know you better than you know yourself.”

I look at his pale blue eyes, tall slender nose, and upturned lips. He’s not saying something, I’m not sure what, probably because he thinks I don’t want to hear it. Alex once told me that he always took his toys apart when he was a kid. He wouldn’t try to reassemble; he just wanted to see how they worked. I’m the best toy he’s ever had, I bet. I just worry about the part where I don’t get put back together.

Alex chuckles. “There you go again. Except given that I’m sitting on top of you and you’re not at all excited, you’re probably thinking the wrong thing. I didn’t mean to sound so manipulative.”

If I’m not a toy to be dismantled, then…

“There’s the smile I wanted,” he says, pinching my cheek playfully.

“Shut up,” I roll my eyes.

“Aw, Mario’s shy. It’s so sweet!” He smacks me with a pillow. I sit up and wrestle him into a headlock.

“You’re a selfish, cocksure bastard,” I grunt, trying to maintain the hold without getting pinched or tickled.

“Which is,” Alex pants, shoving me off of him, “why,” he pauses to fend off the pillow I’m swinging at him, “you like me so much.”

“I never said I liked you.” I dive at him, tackling him around the middle.

Alex wraps his arms around my chest and tries to throw me off. “You said I was your type.”

“I didn’t,” I huff. I’m stronger than he is, but he has those lanky limbs.

“Okay,” he concedes right as I finally pin his legs down with mine. “But you said that you didn’t look like my type, thereby implying that I was yours.”

“Another row on the Rubik’s cube?” I ask, fighting off his grasp.

Instead of responding Alex goes limp so that I fall into him. Alex locks his arms around my back and waits until I stop struggling. We’re covered in sweat and fully erect.

“What,” Alex laughs softly, “were you thinking all this time that I was just using you? You should know a stupid excuse when you hear one.”

My face is smushed against his shoulder, so I don’t respond.

Suddenly Alex pulls my head up so that he’s looking into my eyes. “Stay the night,” he says. “We have the room. Stay here.”

Stay the night. It sounds easy. Alex says it earnestly, as though he truly believes that neither of us will suffer the consequences, as though no one will come looking, as though we’re lovers. Like we could order room service and fuck and answer to no one. He told me once that he chose me because the Ivanovs wouldn’t touch me. It had made sense at the time, but as my family got more and more suspicious I realized what they would to do me if they found out about Alex and me. Sometimes the waiting, the act of not saying anything, is torture. I want to be out with it, for the fighting and the disowning to be over and done. I couldn’t see these meet-and-fucks continuing after, though. Maybe that was why I had kept my trap shut.

“Mario,” Alex says, interrupting my train of thought, “tell me you’ll stay. It’s just one night.”

It’s a bad idea. It’s worse than meeting him for coffee. It’s worse than blowing him in an alley. It’s worse than getting fucked. It’s worse than starting to look forward to Alex’s phone calls. It’s worse than waiting to be found out, it’s worse than wanting to get all that shit over and done with.

I shake my head, still cradled in Alex’s hands. “I can’t.”

“Please.” Alex begs with such sincerity that I’m taken aback. “Just give me this one night.” He presses his forehead to mine. “Just once.”

This once could get me killed. It’s a bad idea. Fucking stupid.

I nod. “Just once.”

---

The second time we met up was the first time we fucked. It was pretty bad.

Alex had me on my back with my legs over his shoulders, working his fingers in and out.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

“Not anymore, but it feels really weird.”

“Like you gotta shit?”

I was a little taken aback, but I guess when you have anal sex there are new questions and problems. The only woman I’d ever assfucked had been a hooker at my cousin’s eighteenth birthday party. That woman had known how to take it, and so all I had needed to worry about was a condom.

“Kind of.”

Alex bent his brown head and withdrew his fingers. I held on to the backs of my knees while he pulled at my ass with his thumbs.

“You have a tiny hole,” he said, as though it was my fault.

I put my head down on the pillow. “If yours is bigger I can fuck you instead, fucking commie.” I didn’t mean it.

Alex snorted, then grabbed the condom packet. “Turn over. I figure if you can take three fingers, you can handle me.”

Rolling over, I wondered again at how good I was at going along with him. “Why do you want to do this again?” I asked. “Why did I let you talk me into this?”

Alex parted my ass cheeks with his hands. “Pure experimentation, m’boy,” he replied cheerfully, running his covered cock over my hole. “If I’m going to piss off my family, might as well make something out of it. Hey, don’t forget to breathe.”

I didn’t respond, firstly because that seemed like kind of a weak explanation, secondly because “breathe” was shitty advice, and thirdly because there was a dick trying to make its way up my ass for the first time in my life.

“Fuck,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Push out,” Alex suggested.

“Hang on,” I begged. I kept thinking, exit, not an entrance, but I breathed deeply and tried to relax. “Okay.”

Alex went slowly, though I’m not entirely sure whether it was because he was being considerate or if it was because I had trouble letting him in. It was a fucking slow, agonizing process. I cursed into the pillow the whole time, but for some stupid reason I was determined not to quit halfway.

“How’s that?” Alex asked when he was all the way in. It felt like everything from the chest down was trying to reject him. It should have been obvious proof that my body was not built to take dick.

“Ah, uh,” I was finding it hard to form a proper sentence, “you can keep going. Just don’t pull—” a spasm of pain wracked through my guts, “oh, fuck, just don’t pull the head out.” I resumed my stream of quiet curses.

Alex obliged and was trying to take it slow, I guess. However, the man was looking to bust a nut, he had his dick in a warm, tight hole, and I wasn’t telling him to get the fuck off. He sped up too soon for my taste, and we probably should have used a lot more lube. My ass ring was on fire. Nothing felt torn, but even after I got used to it there was nothing but pain.

Alex pulled out when he was finished and flopped beside me for a minute. “God, that was weird,” he said.

I didn’t realize that I had been clenching my jaw until I started laughing.

“What?” he asked.

I wiped my eyes. “You just fucked a ‘tiny hole’ to a happy ending. And it was weird?”

Alex got up and went to the bathroom. I wondered if I had offended him, but didn’t say anything. How would I ever sit down again?

The bed dipped between my legs. I felt Alex pull one of my ass cheeks, then a cool washcloth on the place that needed it most. That felt strange. Nice?

“It was weird because it felt good, but I know it sucked for you,” he explained. “Sorry about that, man.”

Maybe it was because I hadn’t had anyone wipe my ass since I was in diapers. Maybe it was because I was in a strange mood that month. Or, maybe my mouth was possessed. My brain wasn’t working but my damn cake hole opened and replied, “Forget about it. The first time always hurts, I read. I’ll get used to it.”

“Good,” Alex said.

That was how it didn’t end.

---

Alex has a nipple fetish, I swear. He’s lying on top of me licking one and gently brushing the other with his fingertips. When he’s teased one nipple to a point Alex lifts his head to blow cool air over it. Then he switches. I don’t stop him because even though it’s kind of strange, it feels really good.

I should be used to it by now I guess, but I still don’t know what to do with my hands. Do I try to return the favor? If I wanted to jack him off we’d have to change positions. I think Alex just really likes being close to other people. He said one time that his family doesn’t touch each other, especially in public because they’re so sensitive about being thought of as gay in America. That’s probably why whenever it’s just the two of us he barely lets me piss by myself. I guess he just wants skinship, or whatever. So I put my hand on his arm, stroking the curve of his bicep with my thumb. His eyes flick up to meet mine and he smiles a little. Wrestling, fucking, or just sleeping in the same bed, Alex likes to touch and be touched.

“Mario,” he says, scraping my collarbone with his teeth.

“Hm.”

“Are you happy when you’re with me?” Alex lips his way up my neck.

Is it not obvious? “Mm hm.” Now that I think about it, it might be the only time that I’m happy.

With a nip at my chin he asks, “Ready for round two?”

Rather than answer him I grab Alex’s shoulders and flip us over. He grabs my ass and kneads it while I lean over to fish another condom from his wallet. We don’t need lube this time; I’m still wet from round one. I slide the rubber on Alex’s cock and ease my way onto it.

Alex grins. “You don’t know how fucking sexy it is to watch you do that,” he says.

I smile, because even if it’s because I’m squatting awkwardly, over a dick,  getting told I’m sexy is nice. Every inch, every millimeter of cock sliding into me sends fire throughout my body. Alex and I both exhale when I sink all the way down. It’s just as much because the physical feeling as it is a sense of completeness, I think. I can’t believe it hurt so bad the first time. I’m damn glad we didn’t give up after the one try. Whatever screw that had been loose enough to make me say, Yeah, I’m not really into guys, but I’ll let you fuck me, it has completely fallen out now.

Leaning back between Alex’s knees, I start sliding up and down his hard length. He puts one arm behind his head, languid, and uses his free hand to tease my shaft and balls. I exhale between clenched teeth, and the accompanying sound makes Alex laugh.

“How many n’s and f’s would you use to spell that?” he teases.

I know I’m noisy in bed, so I let him get away with it. “Jack me slower,” I order instead. “We’re not in a rush anymore.”

Alex tugs on my balls so that my legs shake. “Aye aye, captain,” he says jokingly. “We got all night.”

---

My sister was the first to really say anything. We were in a Chinese restaurant in Southtown, my family’s turf but barely. It was reckless, but maybe I was tired of trying to lose a tail or three every time I left the house.

Juliana showed up with the crab rangoon.

“I only ordered one of these,” I told the waiter. He gave me a smile like I was mildly insane and to be treated gently. I called after him, “What, you don’t like comedy?”

My sister looked us up and down. “Mario, you had best watch your ass. Everyone’s talking already. The family sure as shit won’t like this.” She gestured between Alex and me.

I was about to respond but Alex spoke first. “They won’t like Chinese food?” he looked confused, as though completely unaware of who I really was. It would have sounded fake coming from anyone else. “You’re free to join us if you like.”

“No fucking thank you,” Juliana snapped. “I know who you are, Alexander Ivanov. You show your face in this area again and I’ll make sure your ass gets beaten into fucking ground beef.” She pointed a shiny, pointed nail in my direction, hissing. “Stay the fuck away from my little brother, for both of your goddamn sakes.”

“But I just like him oh so much,” Alex protested with a subtle wink at me. “How can I stay away?”

I put my hands in my lap, just in case he tried anything. “Jules, I can take care of myself.”

“You say this now, baby queer balls, but if you go all fucking ‘friend of Dorothy’ and the family finds out, they will fucking kill you.” Juliana stormed out of the shop.

“Your sister’s a cunt,” Alex commented as he flipped her off through the window.

She was glaring at us from her car.

Leaning over the table, I hit him hard enough to split his lip. Then I handed him my glass of ice when Juliana drove off. “Sorry. Yeah, she is. But she cares about me.”

Alex put the cold glass to his mouth and winced. “I can see that. Why isn’t she inheriting?”

“I dunno. The patriarchy, I guess? My grandfather tried to send her to finishing school.” I watched him dab at his lip with his fingers then inspect the blood he found there.

Alex raised his eyebrows. “Those still exist?”

“Only for rich white assholes.”

He chuckled. “Bet she threw a fit.”

“Better. She got knocked up.”

“Are you an uncle?”

“Roman Catholic to the core, in principle.” I nodded. “Three times over, now. Her husband’s dumber than a sack of rocks, but he loves her.”

“You want kids?” Alex asked. I shouldn’t have been startled seeing as how he was always bringing shit up out of the blue, but he sounded so damn serious. Maybe it was because some stripper in Vegas may or may not have had his kid.

I shrugged. “I like messing around with Juliana’s kids, but I like giving them back.” I couldn’t see myself being a good dad.

“I want kids,” Alex said firmly. “I want to be a foster parent. There are a ton of kids who need good role models. Even if I end up with another dude, we can still raise children without adopting.”

“Somebody has to teach them how to get other people in trouble, I guess.” I fiddled with my cutlery for a moment, watching Alex nurse the split lip I gave him because of Juliana.

Alex looked over at me. “What? Why are you smiling so big?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head.

“Really?”

“No, um, just.” I tried not to laugh, but couldn’t help it. “If I go all ‘friend of Dorothy?’ What the hell does that even mean?”

Alex chuckled. “That’s like a term from the fifties or something,” he explained. “How a lot of gay guys like Judy Garland and musicals and shit.”

“Huh.”

How did Juliana even know that phrase? I’ll bet that once she suspected anything she started doing research. Or maybe she has a secret group of queer friends who think she’s the most fabulous mafia princess in the world. My favorite foulmouthed sister.

“You’re not giving Broadway queen, if you’re worried about your family,” Alex said, gesturing at me.

“Nah, I don’t care,” I said. “Isn’t that the point of all this?”

Alex dropped his gaze. “Just don’t do anything too stupid. I need you alive,” he muttered.

---

“Hey, what’s your favorite movie?” Alex asks.

My tone is incredulous. “What?”

“What’s your favorite movie? Alex repeats. His soft hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat.

I’m on my back with a pillow under my ass and my legs on Alex’s shoulders. Indicating the spot where our bodies join, I grunt out, “You ask as though it’s normal to conversate while fucking.”

“You mean ‘converse,’” Alex corrects me, thrusting extra hard like that proves his point. He bites my calves, leaving red indentations in the muscle, using my thighs to anchor me on the bed while he fucks me.

Fuck yes.

“It’s, oh fuck, it’s Pulp Fiction,” I pant, holding on to his hips. It feels like his cock is going to come out of my chest. “Why the fuck are you asking that?”

“I don’t know,” Alex responds, smiling crookedly. “I never asked you before. Why do you like Pulp Fiction? No, wait, let me guess.”

“Think about it while you move your ass,” I say urgently. Our bodies are slick and shiny with perspiration; I have no idea what time it is now, only that everything smells like sex, tastes like sex. I’m getting close, which usually means that Alex is, too. Where does he find enough energy to form thoughts about favorite movies?

Snapping his fingers, Alex’s face brightens. “You relate to it,” he says, rolling his hips. “The disjointed sense of time, the Mexican standoff, the feeling of nothing going completely right, no one in there is blameless—that’s what your life is.”

“Alex.”

He looks down at me.

I point to my cock. “I’m getting really close. Can you fucking analyze me later?”

“Sì, signore,” he says with a cheeky grin, and moves his hips.

---

The second time Alex fucked me was better, but still not great. The third was better. For some reason it wasn’t until the fourth time around that I started to get worried about my sexuality. Maybe it wasn’t worry, just an afterthought of, Have I been into guys this whole time?

Alex was lying on top of me, rubbing his erection against mine. We were still mostly clothed, though he had unbuttoned both of our shirts and I was missing a sock. Alex was kissing me, but it wasn’t the usual wet, mutual masturbation liplock that involved using tongues like penises or dueling swords. Instead he was kissing my neck, my eyes, my cheeks, and my collarbone, trailing his tongue from my collarbone up to my lips to start over again.

“What are you doing?” I asked when Alex’s lips reached my shoulder yet again.

“I got tired of talking enough for the both of us, so I’m resting my mouth on your face,” he replied sarcastically. “Keep stroking my back. I like that.”

I hadn’t realized I was stroking anything, but I kept my hands moving slowly up and down his torso, feeling the muscle underneath his shirt.

Alex pinched my nipple gently and I sighed. He chuckled.

“You’re cute,” he said.

This is nice, I thought. I could do this for a while. Just lying here, unhurried, with a solid body on top of mine. I was relaxed, content, and for once wasn’t wondering about Alex’s master plan to piss off our families. I was with him and he was with me. That was all. And I really, really liked it.

“Hey, Mario,” Alex whispered in my ear.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for doing this.” He said it as though I’d just given his car a jump.

I slid a hand into his hair, intoxicated by the feel of teeth on my ear and the wet sound of his tongue. “It doesn’t suck,” I said.

“So we can keep going?” Alex asked, nipping down my jawline.

“Mm, I won’t stop if you don’t,” I said, and then immediately realized what I had really meant. Oh, shit, I thought. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

---

I wake before Alex does. The rain stopped sometime last night and the morning light is orange and soft. Alex is drooling on my chest. He started holding on to me in his sleep maybe two months ago. We’d take power naps between fucks, or after a shower; at first I chalked his position up to his intense need to be touched. He always puts an ear over my heart, wraps one arm around my waist, and throws a leg over both of mine like he’s keeping me from going anywhere. I pinch a lock of his light brown hair, rolling the strands between my fingers. It’s lonely to imagine a day when I don’t get to do this. 

Alex grunts in his sleep and I pull him closer. Although he had to at least be attracted to me, I was never sure if he thought I was too boring and silent. After last night, though, I don’t feel like an idiot for being grateful that Alex chose me over, say, one of the Triad princes by process of elimination.

“What time is it?” Alex asks in a gravelly voice.

“Seven-thirty,” I answer with a glance at the bedside clock. “You drooled on me.”

Alex raises his head and blinks blearily at my chest. “Why, so I did.” He rubs his saliva off with his hand.

“We do have time for a quickie,” I tell him.

Grinning, Alex rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Didn’t get enough last night?”

“Don’t ask dumb questions.”

Alex watches as I rifle through all the shit we knocked off the bed yesterday. There’s the nicotine gum, which is handy because I’m dying for a cig and also my breath is terrible. There’s the lube, there are the condoms. There’s my phone—shit, that’s a lot of notifications. I didn’t think about what would happen if I didn’t return to my apartment after all my evasive maneuvers. The potential of a night with Alex distracted me, I guess.

Cousin, cousin, Juliana, cousin, Pop, uncle, Pop a couple more times, Juliana warning DON’T COME HOME!!! and then a shitload more from the rest of the family. That’s not counting the voicemails, including two from my mother.

Adrenaline washes cold down my spine.

I’d gotten so cocky—hadn’t I just been thinking not that long ago that waiting to be discovered was the real torture? I feel like the dog who caught the car. So this is it. I’ll be sent away. Or worse, kept here under constant watch, have to move back to the house, and get married off to some poor woman. Either way, no more Alex.

“You okay?” Alex asks. His beadhead is fucking cute, sticking up every which way like he stuck his finger in a socket.

I plug it in but flip it so I can’t see the screen. “Yeah. Forget about it.” Tossing Alex the rubber, I slick myself up and climb on top of him.

“Alright, then,” he says, pleasantly surprised. I like this version of Alex, heavy-lidded and still half asleep. He lets me stroke him until he’s hard, roll on that condom, and then work my way onto his cock at my own pace. “That’s really nice,” he says softly, running one hand up my thigh.

“Gee, thanks, mister,” I grunt right as he bottoms out. Fuck, but he’s long. Maybe I should have prepped myself better, but I’m in too much of a rush. One for the road. One for goodbye.

Now with both hands running over my legs, Alex reassures me, “I mean it, Mario. There’s nothing like being inside you.”

Stupid man. The version of me who he met a year ago wouldn’t be so goddamn happy to hear that my bowels were a comfy home for cock. We spent too much time together. Liked each other too much. Alex has been too focused on my, like, pleasure or whatever. He’s selfish everywhere but in bed. God damn him.

“Come here,” Alex requests, reaching for me. I let him pull me to the bed and turn so that I’m flat on my chest while Alex mounts me from behind. My toes curl in sync with his monster invading my body.

“Fuck. Fuck.”

Alex leans over to chuckle in my ear. “You like that, huh?”

I respond by grabbing his hair, holding him in place.

Alex rolls his hips slowly. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you exactly what you want,” he whispers in my ear, kissing my neck as he starts rolling his hips. 

Fuck, he’s hitting exactly over my good spot. I arch my back for him, feeling desperate. This is it. This might be the last dicking I ever get from this man, so I’m getting what I fucking want.

Alex frees his head from my grasp, kissing my palm before lacing our fingers together. His other hand wraps around the top of my head, holding me in place so he can grind his big cock in me.

“That’s so goddamn good,” I groan into the bedsheets. Alex replies with a deep-throated growl and a faster pace. My dick is rock hard and rubbing between my abs and the mattress. I wouldn’t have thought that it would get me close, but with Alex inside me it’s like getting stroked all the way through my body.

Licking the perspiration from my temple, Alex whispers, “Mario, you’re so hot inside.”

I’m burning up; every thrust jiggles my brain. I’m so fucking ready to come for him.

“I could be in you forever.”

If I ignore the buzzing of my phone, I can pretend it will last forever. Nothing in the world except Alex’s body on mine, inside me, filling me, overtaking every sense. His breath in my ear, his teeth on my ear, his skin under my tongue. Always. Neverending. Just Alex.

“Yes, that’s it,” I say at one point. Something I would have kept to myself any other day, but if this is going to be the last one, I might as well enjoy myself.

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking sexy right now,” Alex pants, pummeling my prostrate. “You’re gonna make me come.”

“Come in me,” I tell him urgently. “Gimme that fucking cum.”

Alex planks over me, dropping his hips so that his cock slams the air from my lungs. I love it. I fucking love it.

“Yes, yes, pound me,” I grunt. “Fucking do it.”

“Fuck, Mario.”

I can’t hold on anymore. I cry out that I’m coming, shoving my hand underneath me to finish the job. Thick cum spills into my fingers, adding to the sticky mess we’ve created.

“Yes!” Alex shouts as he slams his cock into me. “Take it, baby! Ughn!”

With a couple furious thrusts, Alex comes; I imagine I can feel that cum shooting deep inside me. His arms start to shake and he flops onto the bed, pressing kisses to my open mouth every now and then.

I watch his furrowed brow as he catches his breath. I’m going to miss this face, I’ll bet.

---

The only date Alex and I ever had was going to a concert, about two months after we started hanging out. He probably didn’t think it was a date, and I only thought about it afterwards, but we did all the date stuff. I left a cookout and told my cousins not to come along. We were both freshly showered; I was wearing cologne. Alex and I grabbed some food near the venue, and then strolled over to watch the band, him yapping the whole way while I smoked.

The place was packed; the bandleader was a local who had gotten kinda big. I didn’t know his music, but one of Alex’s brothers had gone to school with him. At the time I was thinking more about how close Alex and I were standing in public. The crowded room was a good excuse to let our arms touch.

Just into the second half of the concert, Alex bent toward me. “I think your family found you,” he shouted over the music. I looked up at him and he jerked his head at the entrance.

I followed his gaze to see two of my cousins at the door, squinting into the dim room. I held up a middle finger so they could find me easier. Alex laughed.

“Why do I never see your fucking family?” I asked Alex sourly, half watching one cousin elbow the other as he spotted me.

He shrugged, swigging his beer. “I gotta be more suspicious, I guess.”

“You can either meet more of my family right now, or we can get outta here,” I told him as quietly as I could. My cousins were about halfway through the crowd. Pop probably sent them after me, because they look annoyed.

“Let’s give them something to chase,” Alex replied, a big grin on his handsome face. He pulled me out a side door with a smokers patio. We hopped the short fence before the bouncer could yell at us, and jogged down the street until we found an easy place to duck into. It was a sports bar, and I didn’t give a shit about the hockey everyone’s watching, but I had so much fun acting like a Looney Tunes character for the last ten minutes that my skin was buzzing. I tugged Alex into a corner where we could keep an eye on the door.

Alex looked down at me, and I looked up at him, and we laughed. Genuinely dumb fun.

“You know, Mario,” Alex said, “If you’re still wanting to, you know, fulfill the mission here, we should brace ourselves to run a lot.”

The adrenaline in my veins was giving me a weird energy, because what I said out loud was. “You want to go fucking scurrying around like a rat instead of getting your dick wet? Forget about it.”

Alex’s eyebrows raised, and he gave me this slow, smiley nod. “It’s like that, huh?”

We started hooking up more after that.

---

“Drop me off,” I say.

Alex looks at me. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

He looks like he’s about to say something in protest, so I add, “Just do it, okay?”

Alex gives me a funny look. “You don’t think they’ve found out yet?”

“I’ll find out.”

He drives me home in silence. I stare out the window, trying not to think about much. Alex turns to me when he pulls up in front of my house, but I get out of the car. As usual, there are four or five people sitting on the porch. I walk around to Alex’s side and tap of the window.

He rolls it down with, “Mario, don’t do something stupid.”

Is he shitting me? “We’re already doing something stupid.” I lean in and kiss him, not briefly, then cross the street and hop up the steps. One of my cousins stands up. I walk past him into the house.

“You gay, Mario?” he asks loudly, following me down the hall.

I shrug.

An uncle pops his head around the corner. “Was that one of the Ivanov shits?”

My body tingles in a way that tells me we’re about to start fighting. “His name is Alex.” 

I’m pretty sure I hear another cousin mutter, “I told you so.” Now I know who was watching me.

My father shows up, bristling menacingly from over my uncle’s shoulder. I don’t have to turn around to know that I’m surrounded. There’s no backing out now. “What the fuck are you doing with that asshole?” Pop asks.

I stare him right in the face. “He’s fucking me.”

Pop must have expected that answer, because no sooner had I gotten the words out than he breaks my nose. Like sharks, at the first drop of blood on the wood floor my family sets in on me.

---

Alex was damn proud of himself when he got me to come with him. To give him some credit, he had been working at it for a while. Every time he fucked me he’d ask all these questions about angles and sensations, and he’d try different things to stimulate me. It was weird. Things like licking my armpits, or playing with my feet, or spanking me. It was as though he’d determined that I had a yet-unknown fetish. Maybe my fetish was just getting a real dick shoved up my ass. Or maybe my fetish was him.

Still, that day there was something a little different. It was partly the way his cockhead hit my prostate. Maybe being on my back put me more at ease. Maybe I liked watching Alex’s hand on my pole, seeing his thumb come up to cover the head on the upstroke. Whatever it was, I watched all of his muscles tighten right when I began to come. He clenched his teeth and groaned, a bass to my frantic, “Oh, shit, oh, fuck, don’t stop, fuck, fuck!”

That moment during climax when everything just turns into protons and neutrons and white noise, I looked into Alex’s eyes and felt my heart pounding. It beat. I came. It beat. Alex shook. My heart beat. And Alex was there with me, inside me, over me.

Then he collapsed on top of me, his exhausted breathing loud in my ear. “Oh my fucking god,” he puffed. “I feel like I just graduated from the school of mediocre sex partners.”

I chuckled and wrapped my arms around him, holding him gently. “You are officially the best fuck I’ve ever had,” I said.

“Really?” Alex turned his head to look at me.

“Really.”

“Really really?”

I smiled at him. My chest was filled with light, and I was almost too overwhelmed with all the things I couldn’t put into words to speak. “You fucking kidding me? Forget about it.”

Alex tried to plant a kiss on my lips, but we were still breathing too hard. We ended up giving each other a raspberry, which cause us both to burst into laughter. Oh, no, I thought as I watched Alex flop onto his back, chortling. I’m fucking falling in love with him.

---

“You filthy fucking cocksucker,” my father yells, swinging wildly at my torso.

I think I might be crying, but it’s like every new blow has to cut through the storm of pain that thunders already through my body. I struggle to my feet again. It’s getting harder to do. I spit blood on the floor and raise my arms in time to fend off one blow before Pop knocks me down again.

“You like getting fucked?” my cousin asks, “like getting a cock fucking shoved up your ass like a bitch? Fucking faggot.” He points the toe of his boot at my kidney and kicks.

I think some of my teeth are loose, and I briefly wonder what I would look like if most of my teeth were punched out. I’d probably give amazing head, at least. Just before I black out Juliana screams, and then something cracks like a melon.

---

The first thing I hear is sniffling.

“Mario, Mario, Mario,” my sister blubbers, “you goddamn fucking idiot shithead stupid dumbass.”

I try to say, “That’s not very nice,” but my throat releases a weird choked sound. Fingers grasp my arm, which hurts, so I whine.

“Oh my god, Mario!” Juliana squeals, sounding delighted. I hear footsteps and a door being slid open. “He’s awake!” she calls to someone. I hope she’s talking to Alex. I hope he’s the one waiting in the hall.

“Don’t try to talk,” comes his smooth voice. “There’s a tube down your throat.”

He’s on the other side. I wish I could see him, but there’s something over my eyes. I can’t open them. I try to reach up and take it off, but Alex’s warm hand stops me.

“You have a shit ton of stitches,” he warns. “Don’t mess with anything until the doctor comes.”

I squeeze his hand.

“You’ve been out for three days, Mario,” he says hoarsely. “One of your broken ribs punctured a lung. You might have brain damage. We were so fucking worried about you.”

All I can do is squeeze, so I do.

Alex’s other hand covers our interlocked fingers. “I’m so sorry; I never should have dragged you into this, it was a fucking stupid idea in the first place.”

Come to think of it, yeah, it had been an incredibly stupid plan. Pretend to date a man just to piss off the family, then take great pains to avoid getting found out by the family, and then fall so hard for the guy that as soon as he tells me he likes me more than I thought, I’m ready to get my skull hammered in?

Alex is gonna have to keep thinking it’s his fault for a little bit, because a crew of medical professionals shows up right after and Juliana is bossing everyone around.

My eyes get unwrapped so they can check my vision, then the right side is re-dressed because I still can’t open it. Left eye is fine. Juliana and Alex both look like shit, which is comforting. My sister cares about me, I know, but I wouldn’t have thought she’d be by my sickbed.

She calls on all her don’s daughter energy. “When can he eat by himself?” she demands as the doctor tries to talk to me. “When are the screws coming out? Does he still need more surgery if he can see? When will he start physical therapy?”

I can’t even follow, and I try to shake my head to show her, but that just hurts. Alex notices and—I guess the two of them bonded over my unconscious body—touches her shoulder.

“Maybe we let him rest?” he suggests.

Juliana would have bitten anyone else’s head off for getting in her way, but she looks at my face and nods at Alex.

“You probably won’t remember much of this,” she says to me. Which is, I’m pretty sure, exactly what the nurse was trying to tell her half a second ago, but it’s still nice to have my sibling in my corner.

They let me pass out a minute later.

I think they took out the tube while I was knocked out, because when I wake up my throat burns. I cough and cough, and it’s fucking disorienting to be hacking up a lung when I still can’t see out of one eye.

Alex appears in my peripheral vision with a glass of water and a straw. “Hey, hey, hey,” he says soothingly, pressing the straw to my lips. “Juliana had to go home for the night, so I’m on duty,” he informs me. “She’s bringing her kids by tomorrow. They made you cards.”

I want to nod, but the neck brace prevents it. “Cool,” I say around the straw.

He sits down, looking scruffy. “Are you okay?”

“I’m pretty fucking far from okay,” I say weakly. Alex smiles and pats my arm, and just then the nurse comes in.

“Uh, hey,” Alex says awkwardly. “About your apartment.”

I wave a hand wearily and try to smile at the nurse changing out the morphine drip in my arm. “There wasn’t any sh-crap in there that I cared about.”

The nurse winks at me. “You can say shit, Mr. Fillipelli,” she says brightly. “Now, if you start feeling nauseous or like your nose is itching, that’s normal. Let me know if you have trouble going to the bathroom, okay? Hit the button only if your pain level reaches an eight within an hour.”

“Yep.”

She leaves on cheerfully squeaky shoes.

I look at Alex. Seeing with only one eye is giving me a headache on top of my headache. “If I can’t go to my home, I’m coming to yours,” I inform him, trying to sound teasing. “Start cleaning now.”

The corners of his mouth twitch upward, but the worried expression remains in place. “You’ll be in here for a while,” he says gently. “Juliana said you took an aluminum bat to the skull.”

The Louisville Slugger that Pop keeps by the door, I bet.

“I have plate?” I manage to ask. “Shit, that’s the morphine. Do I have a plate in my head?” My grandfather had one after a bad encounter with a landmine, back when he was an army private. My nonna told me that’s why he “went strange” every now and then.

“No, but it’s a miracle you don’t.” He tries to smile again, but his face falls. “It’s a miracle you’re alive.”

My heart squeezes. We both knew this was a possibility. Sure, if I were smarter, then maybe I could’ve figured out how to get away from my family without getting jumped. But now look at this big Russian bastard, handsome as shit, trying not to sob like a baby over me.

“I figured out why I like you,” I croak.

Alex squeezes my hand. “Why’s that?”

“I think,” I rasp, struggling to form thoughts around the haze of painkillers, “you make me come alive.”

Alex laughs a little. “You’re cute when you’re all drugged up,” he says, but his thumb strokes the back of my wrist.

“No, I’m serious,” I insist. “I used to not give a shit about myself or anyone. If I’d given a thought to my own safety I would have stayed the fuck away from you.”

“Mario—”

“Shut up while I’m still awake,” I interrupt. My tongue feels like a weight in my mouth. “I got beat up by my own goffam, shit, goddamn family, and I don’t give a fuck. When I’m with you, it’s like everything could go to shit, like it could all end, and I don’t care. And now everything has gone to shit, and I’m just glad that you’re here, and safe, and…uh…holy fuck this morphine is fucking me up.”

“Yeah, it restricted your vocabulary to ‘shit’ and ‘fuck.’” There’s something hot and wet on Alex’s cheek when he presses my palm against it.

“Are you crying, you big queer?” I mumble, trying not to laugh. It hurts my ribs. And my mouth. And my throat. And my head.

“Yes, asshole,” he says and presses a kiss to my hand.

“But does that make sense?” I ask. “I mean it. I think I figured you out, or us out. Why any of this worked in the first place.”

“Because you make me come alive,” Alex says.

“No, it’s the opposite. You heard it wrong,” I protest. A spasm of pain shoots through my chest and I clutch Alex’s strong hand desperately. “I’m fucking trying to tell you that I love you, and you’re not listening.”

“I’m listening,” he insists, and even though it hurts to feel his lips on mine I’m glad he kisses me. “I love you, too.”

“I figured that out when you started crying. Commie fairy.”

“Shut up, fudge packer.” He kisses me again. “Wanna move away and get married?”

“Right after I collect those get well cards, yeah. Let’s fucking do it.” My ribs and skull throb through the morphine fog, and I can’t keep a pained gasp from my lips.

“Press that fucking button, Mario.”

“No, it’s working, it’s working. I’mma fall sleep soon.” I marshal all my available brain power to make a final demand before I lose consciousness. “Sing to me, okay?”

Even wobbly with tears, Alex has a really nice voice.

Like last time I went into Home Depot I was expecting some action but unfortunately ended in just a solo jackoff. You could maybe say it was a mutual hand job if you included the guy who was watching me from his car doing the same as I was.

This time before I head off to H.D. I did my usual man prep. You know, trimming of the man bush, shaving the legs, ass, balls and cock. But instead of tight jeans I decided on a pair of tight shorts, not only were the tight they were see through in florescent lighting. So with those on and my black cock ring that made me bulge out I was ready for some shopping, man shopping.  I finished my look with a little longer shirt that covered me up, I can’t afford too be banned from my favorite place.

I get to H.D. park in or close to my usual spot, make myself hard then head in. It’s Friday 5pm so it’s fairly busy, all the after work men getting whatever, so they can do some gardening I guess.  I shop for a little and spot a couple of men that look really good and sexy. One I would say is maybe 30 something, the other I’d say closer to my age. Now I’m gonna have that older one for two reasons, one he’s married and two he’s probably just as fucking horny as I am.

I walk past him and take in a deep breath as to smell him, sweet smell of whatever cologne he has on is breathtaking. I go to the end, turn back around and accidentally bump into him, oh sorry I said I had mind on other things and forgot you were there. He just smiled at me, which almost made me melt. I went about 10 feet from humans bent over at the hips to look at something on the bottom shel. When I did this my shirt rose up and you could clearly see my ass.

When I looked back to see if he was there I got a surprise. Yes he definitely was and he definitely was staring at my ass. I stayed in that position for a minute and once my cock was back to fully erect I stood up and faced him. 

My cock was so hard it almost hurt and a quick bead of precum had made my shorts wet at my tip, which made it even more visible. Well what to do but walk over to him, hi, hello again he said, nice view as he looked right at my cock. Are you finding what you’re looking for? I asked him. Yes I have found exactly what I need. Do you have a place we can go? I asked him. I just happen to have my crew cab truck and my windows are tinted really dark. We should go then I said back. He turned around and I followed behind him thirty feet or so. We walked out to his truck that was parked not to far from my car. 

He got in and I got in after I did a quick scan of the parking lot to make sure no was paying attention I climbed in. He had already taken his cock out and was stroking it. God it looked great as I quickly sucked as much of him as I could down my throat. He moaned with pleasure as I sucked him and I knew it had been a while since he had anything because before I could do anything more his hands forced my head down as he blew his cum down my throat. 

I was gasping for air and at the same time I loved every second of his cock pulsing in my mouth. His cum was warm, salty and delicious as he started to relax his grip on my head. I pulled off and I was about to say something when he quickly said turn around.  I knew what he meant as I did what he asked of me. I pulled my shorts off and my cock was so close to cummig as his hands spread my cheeks and his tongue was licking my Boi pussy. It didn’t take long and I exploded like a cannon shooting cum all over his truck seat. 

God, fuck yeah I moaned as my cock pulsed rapidly with his tongue inside of me. Get it the back seat he said, I climed over the seat and laid down on my back.  He joined me and brought my legs over his shoulders, lined up and slid his hard cock into my hole. Fuck me! oh yeah! fuck me hard! I said moaning as he pumped my hole. 

He had me right where I wanted to be legs high, getting drilled by an expert. He did me for a while as my cock was begging for another cum explosion. He’s moaning as he’s pounding me and with every deep thrust of his cock into my pussy I’m getting closer to cumming. 

Fuck yes I say loudly as I explode shooting cum all over my abdomen and my pussy muscle clamping hard on his cock sends him over the edge filling me with his seed. The sensation of his cock pulsing in my ass was out of this world hot.

He pulls out and the dam which was his cock that was holding back to cum from flowing out of my hole started running down my split. He scoops up some of his cum and offers it to me, I gladly licked his fingers clean. Then I turned and sucked what was left of  his cum still dripping from his cock.

God he moaned as I did this is it possible? and I say yes! his cock is getting hard once more. Fuck yeah he says suck me until I cum again. I said nothing as I went for the long haul, as I sucked him I stroked  my own cock.  I am hoping that I can blow another load too, man does this feel like it was meant to be as we both moan it pure pleasure.  

The taste of my ass and his cock was intoxicating as I sucked him, this alone was all I needed as could feel my own cock start to cum. I moaned with pleasure with his cock still in my mouth. As I emptied out my balls once again he exploded wildly into my eager mouth filling my belly with more cum than he did the first time and I swallowed every last drop.

I have never had this experience before having a man cum three time in less than thirty minutes, plus me to. My own cock was sore beyond belief but man it felt so fucking great. We finally got our fill, well I got filled three times. 

I let go of his now limp cock from my mouth and he just sat back in total bliss. As we sat there we fondled each other, I guess to see if we could get another hard on but no luck.  We sat there and talked about whatever for another ten minutes as we still played with each other. Finally he said I need to get going, will you be back here again soon? Yes absolutely I try to make it at least once a week. Great I’ll be back about this same time next Friday and I hope to see you here. We’ll need to pick up where we left off, yes absolutely I said with excitement. 

We got dressed and I left for my car, God I was sore. Not only my cock hurt my pussy was sore to, almost like I had a huge ass,ten inch cock in me!  But hey it was well worth the pain. I didn’t even get his name but I was definitely right about him not getting what he needed at home. Hopefully this continues just like today and for a long time.