one .. “you’re going to listen to me and do everything that i say.” his arms were stretched forward, palms flat against the wall on either side of my head. he leaned into me, emphasizing the words with his steady gaze. i kept looking into his eyes. .. maybe i should go back a bit. .. it had been a rough couple of months. i had been dating this one guy for a while—four dates, i think—when he decided to go back to his old boyfriend. and then after that i had slept with guys—about two or three times, i guess—and it hadn’t really gone all that well. for me it was kind of like, ‘o.k., that was that. what time is it?’ i didn’t say that out loud, but i may as well have. they never showed any interest in seeing me again. .. but there i was in the bar—again—lost in the crowd and wishing for something to take my mind off my troubles. i don’t guess i ever learn. .. i had been there an hour and had already heard the two sentences i had hoped never to hear in a bar for the rest of my life. the first was “you’re hot”. the second was “how big is your dick?”. that was when . . . .. i heard a voice behind my head. “i’ve been waiting for you.” i turned. he was smiling at me. “excuse me?” “i’ve been waiting for you.” i was confused. “do i know you?” he smiled. “yes. no. yes.” is this a come-on? i guess he was goodlooking enough, in a kind of dark-eyed worn sort of way. “which is it?” “i’ve seen you around,” he said. “really?” “yeah. here and at the wrangler.” “i don’t remember you. have we met before?” “no. but i’ve been watching you.” really? “really?” “yeah, you’re a fun guy to watch.” “why is that?” “just the way you act. you kind of lurk around and don’t say or do much.” “you make me sound like some kind of psycho.” he laughed. “no, maybe you’re just shy. are you shy?” “i don’t know. i’m quiet, i guess.” he nodded “you don’t seem to pick up guys much.” what? “you’ve been watching me pick up guys?” he smiled slightly. “i’ve seen it happen.” “maybe you’re the psycho.” the smile stayed. “no, i don’t think so. am i crazy ‘cause i’m interested in you?” “i didn’t know i was that interesting.” “don’t think you think you are? that’s kind of sad.” “it’s not sad.” “no? maybe that’s not the right word. maybe i should start over. what i meant to say when i came up was that you look interesting from far off and i wanted to come over and see what you were like to talk to.” “how am i doing so far?” he shrugged. “i can’t tell yet.” “you can’t tell?” he looked at me. “i think you’re a little defensive.” “defensive?” “‘defensive’, ‘guarded’, whatever you want to call it.” “i’m not.” “aren’t you?” yes. “no.” “maybe i’m wrong. i just thought you kind of looked at people like you were afraid of them a little bit.” i am. “i’m not.” “well, if you are i can understand it. i mean, i don’t know what’s happened to you or whatever. but i know there’s a lot of guys out there who’ve been burned. they get all cautious and nervous and they withdraw when somebody comes up to them. they don’t know whether to believe them or not. but you don’t have any reason to be afraid of me.” “no?” “no.” “why not?” “you just don’t.” “i don’t.” “no.” “and how do i know you’re not lying to me right now?” “you’re just going to have to trust me on that one.” “yeah. right.” “you’re not going to trust me?” i paused. “not yet.” “o.k. fair enough. well, not really, but i’ll let it slide.” excuse me? “thank you.” “maybe i should take another approach.” “what?” “should i go away?” no. “no.” “o.k. what should i try now?” “do you have to ‘try’ something?” “oh, i just meant what should i say. i’m not sure what would work best with you.” “why don’t you try being honest.” his eyebrows shot up. “this is being honest. i’ve told you i’m interested in you.” “you are?” “yes. don’t you think i am?” “maybe, but . . .” “but what?” i paused. “you’re very . . .what’s the word . . . ?” “‘handsome’? ‘debonair’? ‘charming’?” he was smiling. it looked nice, but i wasn’t buying. yet. “there’s a word for it, but i forget what it is. it’s when someone is trying to talk circles around you.” “‘circumlocutious’?” i regarded him doubtfully. “no. like when someone says what they think you want to hear.” “‘flattery’.” “no. nevermind. i can’t think right now.” he considered me. “i know i talk a lot,” he said. “some people think maybe i talk too much. but i think fast and my mouth says everything that i think. i do have a way with words. but that’s not a bad thing.” “no?” “no. it means i say what i mean. i say what i’m thinking. so if i tell you i want you, it means i do.” i had nothing to reply to that. keep talking. “do you like the attention?” “it’s alright.” suddenly, his voice dropped. the tone changed. “maybe i should just take charge.” i looked at him. “what do you mean?” “i think . . .” i waited. “what?” he shifted position until he was right in front of me. “i think maybe i can talk you into anything. i can make you do anything.” yeah, right. “yeah, right.” “i can. if you give me the chance.” i thought, ‘it’s late. it’s after midnight. what have i got to lose’. “o.k. give it your best shot.” he stood silently for a second. then he started to talk. “you’ve been waiting. you’ve been standing around in this bar tonight just like you did last weekend and the weekend before. you’ve been waiting for someone to come up and tell you that you’re sexy. you’ve been waiting for some goodlooking guy to catch your eye from across the room and give you that look, that look that says you’ve got what i want. how am i doing so far?” o.k. “o.k.” “fine. you agree that you’ve been waiting for that hot man to come up to you and buy you a drink. you’ve been waiting for him to look into your eyes with that expression that says he’s got to have you and he’s got to have you tonight. and when he comes up to you he’s going to talk to you and touch you and you’re going to get that feeling that maybe he might be worth it. he’s going to talk to you and you’re going to talk back, but mostly you’re going to listen because he is after you. you’ve just got to stand back and let him throw himself at you and it’s going to make you feel good ‘cause this sexy man wants you above everyone else in the bar. and you know what he wants. he wants your cock in his mouth and he wants to see your mouth around his cock and you start thinking about all that and you know that you want it too and then he keeps telling you about the other stuff he’d like to do and what else he wants to do to you once he’s got you home and whether he’s going to suck you or fuck you or make you suck him or make you fuck him or whether he’s going to make you do anything else his sick mind can come up with.” he had not stopped staring into my eyes this whole time. i had been staring back into his, vaguely aware—as he went on and on—of the faint movement of his murmuring lips. i couldn’t think of anything to say. my mind had been emptied of everything else and was being filled with his words. he spoke again. “well, here i am. i’m it. i’m your dream man come true.” i couldn’t help myself. i laughed out loud. he didn’t blink an eye. “what? you don’t think i am? how do you know? i might be just what you’ve been looking for. tonight. or maybe longer. why don’t you take me back to your place and find out. why don’t you take me back to your bed and let me undress you and tell you what i’m going to do to you. let me do it to you, man. let me keep you up all night. let me do things to you and keep doing them to you until you can’t take it anymore and then you’re going to come and then i’m going to come all over you too and then you’re going to sleep and i’m going to do stuff to you and i’m going to wake you up and i’m going to tell you to do something else to me and you’re going to do it until i tell you to stop and then i’m going to tell you to do something else to me and you’re going to do it until i come on your face and then i’m going to tell you to grab hold of your dick and rub it all over my face and pull on it and stroke it until you get it all big and greasy and hard and you’re going to come and you’re going to come and you’re going to shoot that load of yours all over my mouth.” i stood, unmoving, bound by his eyes and by his voice. he smiled. “say ‘yes’.” say yes. “yes.” “o.k. let’s go.” .. we did exactly what he had said we would do. he worked my hardon until i couldn’t take it anymore and i came. then he dropped his load all over my chest. i had slept and then he had woken me up and told me to suck his cock, that nothing else was going to happen until i sucked him off and let him shoot all over my face. and i did that and he did that and then he had told me to sit over him and jerk myself off and let my cum fall down onto his lips. my body and mind were numb and drained. i had gone back to sleep then. .. i dreamed. in the dream i was going from room to room in an empty house. it was nighttime, because i could see through the windows that it was dark outside, but somehow there was dim light in the rooms. i heard a steady whispering. i would go from one room to the next, but the sound would always seem to be coming from another room. i would go in that direction, but when i got there, it had moved on. .. two .. his name was j.d. his first names were james dean. he used j.d. when he was leaving the next morning, he asked for my phone number. normally, i don’t even bother. i had stopped asking for them, myself. “so you don’t want me to call you?” he said. that’s not really it. “guys never call. you know that.” “you don’t want to see me again?” yes. no. yes. in the end i gave him my number. something made me. and if he didn’t call, . . . no surprise there. .. he called. .. it was the next thursday night, about nine. “hello?” “it’s j.d.” “oh, hi.” “what are you wearing?” wham, bam. “excuse me?” “what are you wearing?” i held my breath for a second. my eyes felt a little unfocused. “um, jeans. a tshirt.” “what color’s the tshirt?” “black.” “plain black?” “uh, no. it’s a depeche mode tshirt.” “anything else?” “what?” “are you wearing anything else?” “socks.” “what color?” “white. my gym socks.” “anything else?” “no.” “no underwear?” “ . . . no.” “what color is the tshirt?” “black.” “do you have a plain grey tshirt?” “uh, yeah.” “go change. i’ll wait.” “what?” “put on the grey tshirt instead.” i laid the phone down and changed. why am i doing this? “i’m back.” “good. are you going to do what i say?” am i . . . “say ‘yes’.” say yes. “yes . . . what are you wearing?” “never mind what i’m wearing. are you going to do what i say?” yes. “yes.” “go into your bedroom.” i walked into the next room. “o.k. i’m there.” “you’ve got that long mirror beside the door, don’t you?” “yes.” “stand in front of it.” “o.k.” “what do you see?” “me. talking on the phone to you.” “what are you wearing?” “i told you.” “tell me again. what are you wearing?” “a grey tshirt. my jeans. white socks.” “are you looking at yourself?” “yes.” “what do you see?” i don’t know. “me . . . i guess.” i heard a soft laugh. “can you see your dick?” “uh, no.” “where is it?” “in my pants.” “take it out. don’t take your pants off. just unzip them and take your dick out.” i did. “o.k.” “what do you see?” “my dick.” “what else?” “nothing. me looking in the mirror with my dick hanging out.” “exactly.” “what?” “is it hard?” “. . . not yet.” “not at all?” i caught my breath. “it’s started.” “yeah, i bet it has. get it hard without touching it.” “how am i supposed to do that?” “just do it. look at it.” i did. “tell me what you see.” “i see my dick.” “tell me something else.” “it’s not hard yet, but it’s starting to get there.” “keep going.” “i can see the head hanging down. it’s kind of red and rough. then there’s that part that’s kind of pink. then there’s the shaft.” “keep going.” “i can see some of the hair coming out of my jeans. i can see my balls hanging down.” “is your dick getting harder?” “. . . yes.” “is it all the way hard yet?” “no.” “put you hand up on your chest.” “where?” “anywhere. put it on your chest and rub it.” “like this?” “yeah. look at your cock and run your hand over chest.” i did. i got harder. “take you hand and slowly rub it around your chest. yeah, like that. now put it on the side of your neck. flex your fingers and massage your neck. now run it around to the back. feel the back of your neck. rub it. are you tense back there?” “yes.” “good. i want you to be tense. i want to get you all wound up.” i was almost totally erect now. “now take your hand and run it over the top of your head. turn your head around and feel your hand running over your hair. do it slowly. concentrate. feel it. close your eyes and feel your hand on your head. hold your hand still and turn your head around and feel it up there.” when i closed my eyes, i became very aware of the electronic tone humming in my ear. his speech had became hushed and steady. “keep your eyes closed. bring your hand down to your mouth. put two of your fingers in there and suck on them.” i did. “i can’t hear you,” he said. “i can’t hear the sound of you sucking. suck harder.” i did. i moaned a little bit. “yeah, that’s better. can you hear me?” i pulled my fingers out. “yes,” i gasped. “good. put your hand down and open your eyes.” i did. “are you hard now?” “yeah.” “say ‘yes’.” “. . . yes.” “is it hard?” “yes.” “is it hard?” “yes.” “is it hard?” “yes.” he laughed. “i’m going to tell you what to do. put the phone down. take off your socks and your jeans. leave the tshirt on.” after i was done, i picked up the phone again. “o.k.” “what do you see?” “i see me.” “what else?” “i see my hardon.” “what else?” “my legs. they’re all long and pale and hairy. i’m wearing a grey tshirt. i look all naked.” “you’re not all naked.” “i know, but i look it.” “what else?” “i don’t know.” “what does your face look like?” “what?” “what’s the expression on your face?” “i don’t know. kind of nervous, i guess.” “nervous? is that it?” “maybe.” “are you afraid?” what? “what?” “are you afraid?” “i don’t know.” “are you afraid of me?” yes. “no.” “are you?” yes. “no.” a brief silence. “do you want me to make you come?” yes. “yes.” “put down the phone. jerk yourself off until you come.” “what?” “you heard me.” “but what about you?” “do what i told you.” i laid the phone down on the floor. i took my dick in my hand and started to work it. it was dry, so i spit in my hand. that was better. i watched myself jerking on my dick. i put my other hand under my balls and started to play with them. i watched myself in the mirror. i watched myself beating on my dick. at my naked legs. at my naked belly. i saw the grey tshirt hiding my chest. i saw my face. my eyes. i did look scared. it triggered something. i don’t know what happened. i started whacking the fuck out of my dick. i slumped down and stuck my cock out toward the mirror and beat the shit out of it. i heard the sound of my fist slamming up against the bone. i watched my balls jump and twitch. i grunted and watched myself turn into some kind of crazy man. i kept watching and beating and i pumped out hot white cum. i heard my moans as i kept trying to squeeze one more pulse out. i opened my eyes when my last weak spasm ended. i saw my cum on the mirror and on the floor. i held onto my dick and shook it. long lines trailed down and attached themselves to my thighs. i saw myself in the mirror. i didn’t recognize the person there. i picked up the phone. “i’m done.” “later,” he said. dial tone. i stared at the phone. i walked back into the other room and hung it up. i cleaned off the floor and the mirror. then all i wanted was to go to bed. .. when i woke up the next day, i thought about the phone call. or i tried to think about it but i couldn’t focus for very long. i wasn’t sure if i was upset about it or not. i wandered around all that day feeling vaguely horny though. i had to go out that night. i scored, somehow. but after we got back to his place it turned out to be the same old thing again. i tried to get worked up about what was going on with the guy but he didn’t really want to do much but blow me and then when that was done he wanted me to blow him. i know that doesn’t sound too bad but it didn’t do anything for me. i got up and left. when i was walking home i wondered what was wrong with me. and where was j.d.? .. the next night, saturday, i went to the triangle. i started to get depressed. what the hell was i doing there again? i got half-crocked and figured i might as well go home. but then, after i left, i thought i would stop by the wrangler. what else did i have to do. nothing. he was there. sitting at the bar. not talking to anybody, although there were enough people about. he smiled when i dropped down onto the stool next to him. “hey, man. where you been?” “around. about.” “no, i mean tonight.” “the t.” he grimaced. “still fond of the lowlife?” “it’s not that bad. they’re no worse than they are here.” he glanced around. “maybe a little bit. but you’re right. there’s nothing here worth bothering with either.” “so why are you sitting here?” “just waiting for you.” i had to laugh. “you are such a bullshitter.” he looked offended. “no, i’m not,” he said. “i told you that i’m not.” “you were waiting for me.” “yeah.” “how did you know i would be here?” “i didn’t.” “i’m sure you would have found someone else to do.” he took a drink. “maybe,” he said. “maybe i would have if i had sat here long enough and drunk enough. maybe some hot guy would have come up to me and hit on me and maybe i would have done something with him. but only because it was late and i was drunk and maybe sometimes i get a little lonely. but that doesn’t make me any different from anybody else. you’re just the same, aren’t you?” did he want an answer? yes, he did. he was looking at me and waiting. am i the same? i thought about the guy i had gone home with the night before. i couldn’t even remember his name now. “maybe.” he shrugged. “so what’s your point. i’m human. i’ve got a cock. i’m not a fucking saint. sometimes i do things i’m not proud of after i’ve done them. but i still like to think i’m trying to do better.” what could i say to all this? i didn’t want to think about it. i thought about bringing up the phonecall, but it didn’t seem so important to me now. it was hard talking to j.d. whenever i did so, i felt my brain go all cloudy. he smiled. “but, anyway, none of that matters. because now you’re here and everything will be alright.” am i such a fucking pussy that i believe this man? he reached over underneath the bar and took my hand. he put it on the inside of thigh. i felt his hardon down the inside of his jeans. yes, i am such a fucking pussy. .. back at my place, when we got into bed, we kissed a lot. i don’t know what got into me. maybe that first-date frenzy was over and i was starting to be more comfortable with him. or maybe i thought on a second date you should show more affection. but i still wasn’t sure why i was acting the way i was. i didn’t know the man. why was i kissing him like this? we took turns sucking each other for a while. then he flipped around on top of me and we blew each other at the same time. he lifted my legs up and moved his mouth down to my ass. he had an expert tongue. i groaned as he worked my hole over with his mouth. i ate his cock as his fingers went into me. i thought about him taking the cock that was in my mouth and putting it in my ass. i eased myself out from under him and opened the small wooden chest at the side of my bed. that’s where i keep my stuff. when i put it on him, he smiled. i was glad my brand of choice was ‘beyond seven’. i lay on my stomach. he put it up in me and gently stroked my insides for a while. i sighed into the pillow and enjoyed the regular pulses of insertion . . . removal . . . insertion . . . removal. he kept a slow and steady pace. i was in heaven. he said, “i want to see your face.” i turned over. he held onto my ankles and spread me open. the steady fucking began again. above me, his pale body was a ghost, while his black hair disappeared into the darkness of my bedroom. my eyes closed and opened. i looked down at his stomach and the line of hair that led down to the thick bush pushed up against me. my eyes closed and opened. i looked up at the hard circles of his nipples. and then further up, into the darkness of his eyes. he never closed them. or moved their direction down, down to where he was fucking me. he kept his gaze on my face. watching me. watching the way i responded to subtle changes of speed. the way my breath quickened when the time it took to give me one stroke was filled with two or three. i heard his breath become more urgent. i heard him say “oh”. he pulled out of me and whipped the condom off. grabbing his cock in his hand, he aimed his load. up my belly and my chest. flying through the air. hitting my body with wetness. he was bent over, still holding his dick, and he laughed. “sorry. i couldn’t hold off anymore.” heck, what did i care. “no problem.” he stayed above me, catching his breath. he saw that i was still holding and rubbing my own cock. a wicked grin crossed his face. “let’s keep going,” he said. i was puzzled. “what?” he crawled off the bed and peered into the chest. the one he brought back was pretty big. “i’m going to do you good,” he said. oh, fucking jesus. it was big enough that we had to put more lube around my ass. this time, he was not easy. at first, he was. until i got used to the size of that thing. then he pounded my ass with it. and i mean fucking pounded my ass with that rubber dick until i felt like i was going to die. sweat was flying off his face as he worked me over with it. he kept saying “i’m going to make you come. i’m going to make you come. i’m going to make you come.” he kept saying that and saying that. when i did start to shoot, he pushed it as far up into me as it would go and held it there. i’m not sure whether my coming felt good or not. but i blew my fucking nuts clean dry. .. the last thing i remember that night was lying with my head on the pillow. he was behind me, stroking my hair. i heard him. “shhh. go to sleep now. go on. relax. go to sleep. shhh.” .. another dream. i was in a desert, but it was all cloudy and grey. and i thought, ‘there used to be an ocean here’. i looked down and could see small bits of whiteness in the sand. fossils, broken starfish, and little bits of bone. i looked up again and saw that there were waves after all, but they were very far off, and so small that i thought ‘oh, that’s why i didn’t see them before’. the waves were rolling in, but in slow motion, and soundlessly. i could just see the dull metallic sheen of the water’s surface as the waves held themselves in the air second by second. but the silence. the silence. i tried to say something, to say something in order to make some noise, but i couldn’t. no words or sounds came out of my mouth, and i thought, ‘i know i used to be able to talk’. i looked down again. there was a large white conch shell at my feet. i picked it up and held it next to my ear. i thought, ‘this is the way to hear the ocean’. but i couldn’t. i was about to panic when i heard . . . something. a rustle, a whisper. i pressed the shell harder against my head. i listened as intently as i could. i waited. i heard one word. clearly. “forever.” .. j.d. was already awake when i woke up the next morning. he was watching me. i remembered the ocean. “i had the strangest dream,” i said. i told him about it. his dark eyes lit up. “wow,” he said. then i remembered that i had had another dream the night he had stayed over before. i told him that there must be something about him to give me dreams like that. “really?” he said. .. the following nights, when i went to bed, before i went to sleep, i thought about him. i had always slept with two pillows on the bed, throwing them about as i shifted positions on my restless nights. now i found myself lying on one side of the bed, with my head turned toward the other, imagining j.d. there. i wasn’t sold yet. not completely. there was something about j.d. that i didn’t trust. but then—i knew—i didn’t trust any man. but he wanted me, i said to myself. he was making the effort. might as well enjoy it while it lasted. .. three .. he called the thursday after that saturday night. “how about we try something different?” i paused, wondering what he was going to have me do. “what?” “how about we skip the bar and i come over tomorrow night and stay over?” say yes. “yes.” .. he got to my place about ten. he was very nice. he was all casual and didn’t seem like he was planning something at all. i didn’t know what was going on. i played it by ear and i thought i was doing alright, but i guess i wasn’t very convincing. after we were done having sex, we were lying in bed. i was on my back and he lay beside me, propping his head up with one hand while his other hand lightly trailed over my chest, stomach, and cock. “are you alright?” he said. “yes.” “you seem a little distant tonight.” “no. i’m tired, i guess.” he paused. “do you want me to leave?” say no. “no.” “are you sure?” i looked at him. say yes. “yes.” he waited again. “i’m never quite sure what you want,” he said. “what do you mean?” “i mean, i don’t know if you’re really interested in me.” what could i say. that i don’t know you that well? that i’m not sure if i trust you? “i don’t know you that well.” “you should have some idea of what i’m like by now.” “i do. but i still don’t know you well.” he sighed. “i’m exactly what i seem.” what. what are you. “are you?” “yes.” “o.k.” “you don’t believe me.” was i going to be able to say it? no. “that’s not exactly it. you have to admit you’re very . . .” “very what?” “very . . . seductive. some people might think it was only an act.” “. . .” “what?” “it’s not an act.” no? “no?” “no.” “o.k.” “do you think it’s an act?” “sometimes.” “it isn’t.” “no?” “no.” the hand paused on my stomach. “do you want me to explain it to you?” “what?” “why i am the way that i am?” “sure.” there was a moment of quiet. “how old are you?” he asked. “what does it matter?” “it doesn’t. but you’re almost as old as i am. i’m forty-two and i’m still here. most of the friends i used to have have died. two of my three lovers have died. and i’m still here. so i think it means something. it has to mean something. in any case, it made me think about what i am and what i was doing with my life.” his hand moved up and started to stroke my cheek. “have you ever heard of andrew marvell?” he said. “no.” “he was this poet guy. i don’t know when. and he wrote this poem to his mistress about how he wished they had all the time in the world. but they didn’t. he says something about time always rushing past him. and that she shouldn’t be so coy with him because they didn’t have enough time. they were both going to die someday. “the grave’s a fine and private place, but none i think do there embrace.” that’s where that line comes from.” i was worried. i made myself meet his eyes. “are you trying to tell me something?” “what?” i gulped down a breath. “are you trying to me that you’re positive?” his hand stopped. “no. i’m negative.” “oh.” “why did you think that?” “you were talking about death and all that.” “no. that’s not it. that’s not my point. the point i’m trying to make is that nobody has enough time. so why try to take life just as it comes. why not make the most of what you have. try to really live. try to do things, to make them happen and not just let things happen to you. i make things happen. and if i meet someone who i think might understand that—how i am—then i’m going to make an effort to be special for them. if i’m here with you it’s because i want to be here with you. i’m not trying to do anything else but be right here right now. with you. as intensely as i can.” “oh.” “do you see my point?” “i guess.” “you guess.” “yeah.” he grew silent. “i’m going to say something. and i want you to listen to me.” i’m listening. “what?” “i like you. and i want to spend more time with you, talking to you. but if i don’t think you’re listening to me, that you don’t understand what i’m saying, the way i am, i won’t do it anymore.” my throat tightened. “do you understand?” he said. “i don’t want to waste time.” i forced myself to speak. “i understand.” “o.k.” .. sometime in the night i woke up. his mouth was around my cock. he had pushed the sheet down and was holding my cock in his mouth and moving it around with his tongue. i was getting hard. he kept doing me. i moved my hands down and put them on his head. he kept sucking. i got hard. i spread my legs open and he got up on his knees but he kept his head down there. he held onto the base of my cock and moved his hand up and down. he kept sucking me. we did this for ten minutes and then i came on his face. before i could move down to do the same to him, he had pulled the sheet up and, wrapping his arm around my chest, pulled me next to him, his head behind mine. .. what was it? think, max. oh, wait. it was somewhere out in a forest. the ground sloped down and i was walking down the hill. i got to the bottom and there was a river. it wasn’t calm and peaceful. the water was dark and swirled in little circles. there was a flood. it was far away to the other side. down, in the water, there were things drifting past in the flow. leaves. a red book. condoms. something that might have been an old beaten chair. my favorite blue shirt. when i saw my shirt float past, i wanted to reach down and get it, but the bank was too slippery and i couldn’t get too close or i would fall in. i looked up. i saw j.d. he was standing on the roof of a house. the house wasn’t moving downstream, but was mired in the mud. its roof tilted at a precarious angle. and j.d. stood on top of it. he kept watching me. he held out his hand, inviting me over. i thought ‘no. he’s staying in one place but if i get in the water i’ll get swept away’. and then i remembered that i didn’t know how to swim anyway. .. when he left late the next morning, he said “i’ll call you”. after he had gone, i realized that i still didn’t have his telephone number. he didn’t call that night. .. he called the next morning. i had stayed home saturday night. like a fool. sunday, eight-thirty a.m. “did i wake you?” “uh, yeah.” “late night last night?” “no. not really.” “what was the triangle like?” “. . . i didn’t go.” “no?” “no.” “what did you do then?” “nothing much. stayed home. watched some t.v.” “were you waiting for me to call?” yes. “no.” “are you sure?” “what?” “are you sure you weren’t waiting for me to call last night?” don’t do this to me. “yes, i was.” wait. what did i just say. “that’s nice.” what did i just say. “maybe you are getting to like me after all.” “i like you.” “do you like my cock?” oh, yes. “i asked you if you liked my cock.” “. . . yes.” “would you like it in your mouth right now?” “. . . yes.” dial tone. dial tone. you fucking bastard. i glared at the phone and the off-key note that mocked me. you motherfucking bastard. i lay back down on the bed. i was so fucking mad. i am such a fucking fool. i was so upset that it took me a minute to notice that my hand was wrapped around my cock. how did i get hard so fast. i kept holding it. i closed my eyes. i thought about j.d. being over me, putting his hardon down into my mouth. no, don’t do this. i couldn’t get it out of my mind. i kept picturing him straddling my face and my mouth up to his cock, sucking it. i wanted it in my mouth so badly. in my mind i kept picturing myself sucking his cock, and i came. i was lying there, with my hands full of wet dick, when the phone rang. i had to pick it up. i couldn’t stop myself. “did you come?” “. . . what?” “did you come?” “what are you talking about.” “you just jerked yourself off, didn’t you?” no. don’t. “no.” “i know you did.” “no, i didn’t.” “what did you think about? did you think about sucking my dick?” stop. please don’t do this to me. he didn’t stop. “yeah, you thought about sucking my big cock.” “stop it.” “what?” “stop it.” “stop what?” “what you’re doing.” “what am i doing?” “you’re fucking with my head.” “am i?” “yes.” “how do you know?” “what?” “how do you know i’m fucking with your head.” “because you are.” “you’re the one thinking about me and jerking off.” “that was a coincidence.” “so you did.” oh, fuck. “you were thinking about me when you were jerking off.” don’t. “weren’t you?” he said. i hung up quickly. i lay there, dazed by what had happened. my heart was beating fast. i watched the phone. waiting for it to ring. it didn’t. .. i am not going to have anything more to do with him. i am not going to have anything more to do with him. .. later that same day, i jerked myself off again. i thought about being on my knees in front of him and sucking his cock some more. .. monday i was too busy with work to think about him and then that evening i came home and went to bed right away. i must have slept ten, eleven hours that night. .. tuesday evening i tried to watch some porn to get my mind off him. i got all horny. i wanted something up my ass. i went to get a dildo, but when i saw the one that he had fucked me with, i couldn’t use it. i got another one. it was shorter and thicker and not as smooth. it was harder to get in. i lubed it up and crouched above it, working my ass down over it. but when it was all the way up there, all the way up in me, i couldn’t stop myself from thinking that it was his cock, and that i was sitting over him and he was fucking my ass. i pushed my ass all the way down to the base and held it there. .. what is wrong with me. .. the phone didn’t ring all week. j.d. didn’t call. nobody calls. .. four .. friday. i have to go out tonight. i have to find somebody else to fuck to get my mind off this man. if i see him in the bar, i will leave. i will go somewhere else. i will not talk to him. i will not let him talk to me. .. he was in the triangle. i did not leave. i will show him that i do not need him. that i will not do what he says. .. he saw me. he walked over, grinning lazily. he sat his beer down on the ledge and put his hands against the wall on either side of my head. “hi.” “hi.” “i’ve been waiting for you.” “yeah?” “yeah. are you ready?” “what?” “are you ready to go?” i kept looking into his eyes. “what do you want, j.d.?” “i want to take you home and fuck you.” he leaned forward, emphasizing the words with his steady gaze. “no.” “what?” “no.” “why not?” “i can’t.” he was surprised. “just tell me why.” “i can’t. not tonight.” “why not?” because i don’t want to. “because i don’t want to.” he waited for a second. then he leaned closer. “you’re going to listen to me and do everything that i say.” i could barely speak. “. . . no.” “no?” “. . . no.” he waited a second. “you’re going to listen to me and do everything that i say.” “stop it.” his eyebrows raised, questioningly. “stop what?” “you’re hurting me.” “i’m not touching you.” it was true. he wasn’t. but, pinned there against the wall between his outstretched arms, i felt my body ache. “i don’t want to do this anymore.” his eyes went cold in an instant. “oh. well. nevermind then.” he dropped his arms and walked away. he quickly moved through the crowd, out of my sight, going off toward the back bar. fuck. what did i do now. why do i never say the right thing. i stood there nursing my beer and feeling a little confused. “can i talk to you for a minute?’ he was already back. “what?” there was something burning in his eyes. “i just wanted to be sure what was going on.” “nothing’s going on.” he was thinking. “so you’re dumping me.” i was startled. “j.d., we were never going together.” “we weren’t?” “no.” “well, maybe not ‘going together’ exactly. but i thought we were going somewhere with it.” “j.d., i like you, but i don’t think it’s going to work out.” “why not.” “i just don’t think it is.” “don’t you like the sex?” he had me there. “the sex is . . . alright.” he allowed himself a grin. “the sex is fucking great.” i didn’t say anything. “i’m the best fuck you’ve had in ages. yes. “i show you things.” yes. “and i bust my ass for you. i like doing you. i like doing you up good.” my dick was beginning to grow. i couldn’t stop it. say something. anything. “but there’s got to be more to it than that.” now he was amused. “like what.” “something. i don’t know.” “you don’t know.” i didn’t say anything. “don’t you like me?” “well, yeah, i guess so.” “but . . .?” what was i going to say. “come on, tell me. i can take it.” could i do this. “sometimes you scare me.” it was dark in the bar. somebody pushed past and i glanced away. i wasn’t sure whether or not i saw a smile flash across j.d.’s face. “i scare you.” i made myself look back at him. “sometimes.” now he was smiling, ever so slightly. “maybe you need to be scared.” suddenly, the noise of the bar disappeared. all i could hear was the sound of his voice. “maybe you like being scared.” i couldn’t breathe. my heart was beating fast. he leaned his face closer. “i think . . .” he stopped. i waited. “i think . . . you like me to do stuff to you.” i waited. he kept whispering. “i think . . . you want me to do things to you.” i didn’t move. “i think . . . you want me to fuck you.” i couldn’t move. “i think . . . you want me to fuck you up.” i couldn’t see. “say it.” say what. “you know you haven’t got anything but me. say it.” say what. i can’t think. tell me what to say. “listen to me.” yes. “say ‘i want you, j.d.’.” i stammered. “i . . . i . . .” “say it. ‘ i want you’.” my lips moved. “i want you.” the house was empty. “say ‘i want you to fuck me’.” the beach was silent and there was nobody there. “i want you to fuck me.” he laughed, so easily, in my ear. “say ‘i want you to fuck me up’.” i saw the dark grey of his eyes twist as the river flowed over my head. “i want you to fuck me up.” .. i don’t remember anything about getting home that night. i don’t remember driving home. i don’t remember anything. the next thing i remember is lying face down on my bed. j.d. was pounding my ass. it went on and on. after he was done, he rolled off. it was about three a.m. .. i was in my house and it was getting to be late afternoon. the sun was coming through my west windows and i went over to close the blinds. it was so bright. when i got to the windows, i saw that it wasn’t the sun going down. the city was on fire. far off, about ten blocks away—running from north to south—there was a wall of flame rising up to the sky. i ran outside. i was going to run down to the corner to call the fire department, because for some reason i didn’t have a telephone in my house. i had been there for years but there wasn’t a telephone. i got down to the drugstore at the corner but there was no receiver, only the cable hanging down, useless. it had been cut. i ran back to my house. when i got to my street, i could see that the fire had spread. “you can feel the hot hot flames on your face.” i woke up. .. when i was fifteen, our house had caught fire. i had woken up one night to see flames outside my window. .. i could hear him, behind my back, whispering. i didn’t move. he had been talking for a while, i guess. “ . . . and now you see the flames and they’re working their way down the street. you can see the smoke rising up slowly and you’re wondering how you’re ever going to get out of there. the smoke is like snakes, oily black snakes and they’re not going up into the air but sliding down to the ground and crawling along and you think they’re snakes but they’re not really snakes, it’s smoke and you can see them crawling for your legs. you try to run away and they chase you for a while but you keep running and they can’t keep up with you and you’re still trying to get home to see if your house has burned yet. you’re almost there. there’s nobody around and you’re wondering why the firetrucks aren’t out and nobody’s fighting the fire, but you just want to get home and see if it’s alright or not and then you see your house and it’s not on fire and the houses on either side of it aren’t on fire and you go inside and the doors aren’t locked and you wonder why you didn’t lock your doors and you go inside and everything looks alright and you’re running from room to room and nothing seems to be wrong and then you go to the kitchen and the bedroom and the lights are off and you think that’s good because if there was a fire then you could see and if you can’t see then the fire isn’t there and then you go into the bathroom and there i am in the shower, the water isn’t running but i’m there in the shower naked and leaning against the wall and you see me naked and you look at me and you see me and you see my cock and you forget about the fire and you get into the shower and you know you still have your clothes on but it doesn’t matter because the water isn’t on anyway and you get down on your knees in front of me and you look at my cock and then you take my cock into your mouth and you start sucking on it and you like the taste of my cock in your mouth and you like sucking me off and you keep sucking my cock and sucking my cock because there’s nothing you like better in the world than sucking my cock and you know that as long as you keep sucking on me that the fire will never come and it will all go away and i will take care of you and as long as you keep sucking my cock that everything will be alright.” there was a pause in the continual steady speech. i tried to keep my breath slow. “when you wake up tomorrow, you will feel good. we’ll get up and you’ll fix me breakfast. after breakfast, i’m going to say that i’m going to take a shower. while i’m in there, you will get the feeling that you have to see me. the feeling will be so strong that you can’t fight it. i’m going to close the bathroom door. you’ll see that the door is closed, but you’ll want to see me so badly that you’ll open it a little bit, very slowly and very quietly. you’re going to spy on me through a crack in the door. and you’re going to see me jerking myself off. i’m going to be in the shower and i’m going to get my dick all wet and soapy and you’re going to catch me jerking myself off. you’re going to keep looking at me and spying on me and trying to make sure i don’t see you. your dick is going to get hard and you’re going to take it out of your shorts and start to jerk yourself off. you’re going to watch me jerk on my cock and you’re going to jerk on your cock and i’m not going to see you there and i’m going to come and my cum is going to shoot out of my dick and when you see me come then you’re going to come too and you’re going to shoot your cum in your hand and then you’re going to panic because you don’t want me to know what you’ve been doing and you’re going to pull the door shut as quickly and quietly as you can and then you’re going to have to lick your cum off your hand and then you’re going to go back to the kitchen and wash your hands off and start washing the dishes and when i come out you’re going to act like nothing has happened.” a pause. “this is what you’re going to do tomorrow. and you’re not going to remember that i said this. you’re going to do all that and you won’t be able to stop yourself and you will never remember or know that i told you to do it. you will block that out of your mind completely. you will never remember that i told you to do it. you will not remember it.” a pause. “o.k. one. two. three.” i heard the soft snap of his fingers. .. five .. i don’t go out much anymore. sometimes j.d. comes over and i fix him dinner and we watch a movie or something and then we have sex and go to bed. i don’t know, really, for sure, what he does to me—or what he tells me—when i’m asleep. sometimes, during the day, i wonder when i do things if i’m doing them on my own, or if it was something he told me to do. and i don’t know what—from now on—we’re going to do. but i don’t care. you know, he’s never said that he loves me. and i don’t think i’m going to tell him that i love him. i don’t think i do. i get confused when i try to think about that. that’s fine. none of that. not for me anymore. tell me when to say ‘no’. tell me when to say ‘yes’. tell me what to say. tell me what to do. tell me anything. i want to sleep.
