"Hey Jim, you enjoying the party?"
I looked up, and saw that it was my host, Bruce, walking up to the couch I was sitting on. I was a co-worker of his sister, and she was constantly bragging about his parties, and that I should come to one with her. I gave in, more out of curiosity than anything, and here I was, sitting on his couch, drinking his mojito, and people watching.
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When I started driving some years ago, I recall my dad's repeated warnings about keeping plenty of gas in my car. Well, as this 19-year-old sat on the gravel shoulder of a rather desolate foothill highway after running out of gas, the last thing I wanted to think about was my dad being right, as usual. It didn't seem that I would have to worry about anybody coming along this road at 1 a.m., so I figured I might as well bunk in my car until daylight.
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There is something particularly humiliating about being arrested covered in cum, piss, and surrounded by big black men, especially when you were once a very well-off businessman with a simple insertion fetish. My whole private life had been exposed in a day, and it affected my professional life a great deal. My face was plastered all over the news for weeks. Obviously they weren't flashing my cum covered naked ass on the nightly news, but plenty of pictures surfaced on the Internet and were making their rounds. It was a huge scandal.
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I hate labels. I don't consider myself gay. Hell, I don't even think of myself as bi, either. Slightly bent? Straight with a slight curve? Fuck if I know because I love sex with women. Really, I do, except I've had a dick or two inside my mouth, too. So, what does that make me? Before Todd, I never thought much about it. Best to think of myself as a horny bastard and leave it at that.
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The most wonderful thing a lover has ever done for me was to give me my life. I didn't understand it at the time, but if he had loved me as I wanted him to—as I begged him to—I would be long dead today.
The days of my sexual coming of age in Bangkok, Thailand, during the mid seventies through the mid eighties were paradise followed by a rude awakening, a realization of how life can come back at you hard that I didn't fully realize until I had left the City of the Angels the first time I lived there.
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It had been the week from hell. The boss had been on his tail all week, everything that could go wrong had gone wrong and, to top it all, head office had sent through a memo late on Friday afternoon stating that there were to be cut backs across the board and that staff would be losing their jobs.
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The vampire is impaling me over and over. His teeth deep in my neck, sucking in a measured pace as he works his jaw to grip my throat anew after each long draught. Enough to satisfy his need, or one of them, yet not too much to allow me to pass out or not comprehend, experience the full measure of having him in my bed, his cock up my ass impaling me at a faster and faster pace.
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After my wife died the house was so empty.
Most of the time it was okay. I went to work and didn't think about it. I ate dinner out, came home and watched TV until late. But there was no one to share my bed at night, and the weekends were long and lonely.
In a way it was good, because I started being more friendly to people, just to have someone to talk to. My next door neighbor George, for instance.
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Chopper pointed towards the back of the club. My knees almost gave out. With his firm grip on my shoulder we started walking. My head was spinning. I had no idea what he was going to do.
He opened the door to the back office and pushed me inside. The office was richly appointed. There was a desk to one side with a bar and couch on the other. He turned and locked the door behind him. My heart was beating ninety to nothing.
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When I first moved to Chicago from the country I was pretty shy and nervous. It wasn't easy to make friends. I started dating a nice girl from work and had great fun for a few months. Then she went away to college and I found myself alone and miserable.
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