It wasn't until Wednesday that I felt like I was no longer walking bowl legged. On the past Saturday I was a target for over one hundred men as the ejaculated on my head. My entire head had been wrapped in one of those cones a vet uses to keep a dog from biting itself. Towards the end of the evening I was made to drink almost a gallon of cold wet slimy cum.
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I was standing in the small room, in front of a curtained window. Paul's hot breath on the back of my neck was doing little to dispel the tension that was tying me in knots, even though that's exactly what we were here for. The room was pretty dreary really; just this curtained window and a padded massage table behind us against the wall. Tired paint on the walls, scruffed tiled floor and ceiling, as if men before us had been walking the ceiling and dragged across the floor, which, for all I knew, was exactly what had caused the scruffing.
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It wasn't hot enough for the outfit she was wearing. You didn't have to be a brain surgeon to know she was dressed to impress, and Derrick would have been less than a man if he hadn't let his eyes wander over the delicious curves of her body. He watched as she strolled down the concourse, and wondered how her outfit had gone over on the plane. Everyone else that filed out behind her was dressed conservatively.
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When my father died, I blamed my mother. Not for his death – the car accident that killed him was due to bad weather and a teenage driver – but for all of the unhappiness that settled on our home and stayed there after he was gone. My mother locked herself away in darkness, and tried to keep me there, too.
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Sam knew. "Who?" was all he asked.
I didn't have to ask what he meant. "My new partner." Department regulations strictly prohibited fraternization between fellow officers. Fuck your partner, and you're not going to put your head out there in front. You have to think, not lust, or you end up dead. Toll collecting's a dangerous business these days, what with anarchy only a hair's breadth away.
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The first time I was with another couple was in California. I worked at night as a musician, spent days running, biking, practicing. Occasionally I'd pick up a movie at the local adult store.
Adult store patrons are the same the world over: middle-aged married men, rendezvous-ing gay men, horny twenty-year-old gotta-get-off-NOW men (that was me). Drunks and druggies of all shapes and sizes. A prostitute or two. And the occasional nervous couple.
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Tonight is the first time in three months that I have attended the monthly Saturday night mixer that has been a tradition in Portland for almost ten years. The initial group of about fifty people from fraternity affiliations, support of the football team and college groups of all kinds formed right after graduation from the University of Oregon. Over time we've added OSU and PSU members to heckle. We've also have dates and spouses that still come after relationships broke up.
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"I think it's wreckage of a ship. From the storm last night. It's not strange to find ship wreckage on the Cefalu beach after a tempest like that."
Two scouts, on their regular patrol along the Adrano coastline while the forces of the Prince of Madness sought to invade the island nation, had stopped on the beach, their attention arrested by shattered ship planking and tangles of shredded sailcloth washing up in the surf.
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I've always been a gadget guy. As a kid I was the one who took all his toys apart and put them back together. I built a bike with two frames and a long chain so I could ride around taller than the other kids. When I was old enough I bought two junk cars and made one good car from them. Building stuff and fixing stuff so it was better than when it was new has always been fun for me.
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There is a long, still silence. Finally, you exhale slowly and speak.
"Yes."
"Yes, what?" You hear my voice beside you.
"Yes. ... I surrender... to you."
You are blindfolded and tied to your own bed, secured by each ankle and wrist to the four bedposts. You are spread-eagled on your back, naked except for the exquisitely soft blanket covering you from shoulder to ankle.
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