Sex in the Sky

My best friend and next-door neighbor has been the best thing that ever happened to me. His name is Nathan and we got along great, from the moment we first met. I valued his friendship more than anything in the world. He and his family taught me what it is to love and receive love from others. I seemed to be a burden, an unwanted houseguest to my parents. If it hadn’t been for Nathan and his family, I would probably be a very unhappy man, unable and unwilling to let anyone in and because of that, lonely. I would never do anything to jeopardize that friendship, but I almost destroyed it. I didn’t set out to, but it almost happened anyway.

I met Nathan when I was seven and shortly after his entire family. He had four older brothers and I was amazed at how noisy and fun his house was. His mom was big on hugs, so was his dad. He worked hard and came home and showered then played with all of his boys. It was as if no matter how bad his day was he had more than enough time, patience and willingness to be with his family. A couple of years later, I was spending the night at his house and his brothers built us a fort in the living room out of pillows and blankets. His parents popped popcorn and let us watch movies. I had so much fun that night. And when Nathan’s parents hugged him good night, I felt a spear of jealousy hit me. Then they both gave me a big hug too. It was the best time and also the most uncomfortable time. It was awkward. I didn’t know what to do. I saw the parents exchange a look and they both kind of frowned a little. But from that point forward, they both made it a habit to hug me, every time I was around. It got to the point that within weeks I didn’t even notice it. I actually grew to expect it.

My parents had this habit of wandering off and leaving me on my own, but I would hang out with Nathan and it almost didn’t hurt. Then one day, Nathan’s mom, Darcy, got sick. And she got sicker and sicker. When we both turned twelve, she died. I felt like I’d lost the most loving mother in the world. She wasn’t even my mother and I grieved for her in ways I never thought possible. If I felt so much at her loss, I could only imagine what Nathan, his brothers, and father must have felt. I wanted to shut out the world and hide myself from any more pain. But Nathan’s family refused to let me do it.

What is so amazing is that Nathan’s dad, Caleb, just became closer and closer to his children. He went to work, just like always, but now he spent more time with them. He was warm and affectionate and took such good care of them. I really liked spending time in the house with them. I felt like one of the guys, loved and cared for like I never got at home. I even fought with Nathan’s older brothers. It was like a real family.

When I was thirteen, I slept over at the house again. Nathan and I were roughhousing. It was late, after three, and we were making a lot of noise. Caleb came out into the hall to see what was going on. We were watching one of those late night wrestling programs and trying to imitate some of the stuff they did. Caleb came right out and joined us, rolling around and tackling us, pinning us to the ground. It was fun and made me realize how shafted I was by my own family. My father? Wrestling with two kids late at night after we’d woken him up? Fat chance.

For a while, I stopped hanging around Nathan so much. My body was starting to mature and with it came the first stirrings of who I was sexually. What scared me was how my thoughts and dreams turned to Nathan’s family, most specifically, his father, Caleb. I wanted so badly to have someone give me some advice. If anyone else had been in my dream, I would have asked Caleb. But I couldn’t ask him.

A few days later, the choice was taken from me. Caleb showed up at my door, wanting to speak to my parents. He was taking his four boys to Disneyland and wanted me to come along. But my folks weren’t home. So Caleb asked why I stayed away. I just burst into tears. I was so confused. He hugged me up and rocked with me. I slowly and embarrassingly explained how confused I was and how I didn’t understand what was happening to my body, leaving out his involvement in my dreams. He smiled at me and explained it all to me. I kind of had an idea, but his telling me that it was normal helped. I didn’t mention that I thought I was gay. That was one hurdle I could do without.

I did go with them to Disneyland later that year. I had so much fun. I had never been on vacation before. My parents went and often. You hear on the news about negligent parents who leave their kids at home while they go on vacation and threaten the children with all sorts of dangers if they answer the phone or the door. My parents couldn’t be bothered to talk to me, but they did leave me alone, for weeks on end. By the time I was 16, I had forgotten what their voices sounded like. I just didn’t care. Caleb and Nathan were my family. And not a single member of that family minded that I spent more time there than at my own home. I’ve gotten so good at forging my parent’s name; no one knows that I was a mistake, the effects of a broken condom.

When I was seventeen, Nathan and I were in a small car accident. A drunk driver hit us from behind. Nathan got a few scrapes on his arm and face, but I hit my head. Caleb showed up with two of Nathan’s brothers. They all gathered around Nathan and cooed over him. I was in another exam room, but I could hear them. They were getting ready to release Nathan when Caleb found me. He came in my cubicle and asked if I needed a ride home. A doctor asked if Caleb was my father and when he found out he wasn’t, he was told that I couldn’t be released except into my family’s care. I looked away in shame; my family didn’t care about me. Caleb asked for a moment alone.

“Luc, where are you parents?”

I still couldn’t look at him. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen them since August.”

“What? This is god damn October!”

I felt a tear squeeze out of my eye and my voice crack as I spoke. “I know.”

“Shit! I can’t believe this. I knew your parents were crap, but never this. Is this the longest they’ve been gone?”

“No. They came home in August for a couple of days, but they’ve been gone since the end of April.”

“I don’t believe this. Parents are supposed to care for their children.” With those words, the tears came harder. “Luc, I’m going to have to call the police.”

That steeled my spine. “No! In three weeks I will be eighteen and it won’t matter anymore. I have some money saved. I’ve been working two jobs. I will simply move out and stay on my own. But I can’t if you bring the police into it.”

“That is why you haven’t been around so much? God! I have been so blind.”

That made me smile. He hugged me up and rocked me a bit. He really is the best of men. Nathan was released and Caleb had his brothers take him home. Because the hospital wouldn’t release me until morning without my parents there, Caleb stayed with me. He sat in my room and talked to me. He woke me up every couple of hours and made sure I was okay and didn’t have a concussion. By dawn I was so damn in love with him I couldn’t breath.

But this was one of those never to be situations. I knew how lonely he was. He didn’t date, hadn’t since his wife died. All I could think about was how lonely he must be, finding comfort in his hand, alone in his bed. That is all I had too, but I was a kid, I wasn’t used to the loving, gentle touch of a lover. I didn’t know what the difference between a warm body and a callused hand was. He did. And I loved him more for it. I don’t know why he shut himself off. But he was alone. Perhaps just as alone as I was.

The next day, my dad showed up, peeved that he had to call his vacation short. He signed me out, but Caleb caught him in the hall as I was getting dressed. I didn’t hear what they said, but after that, I had money for school waiting for me. I really wish I could tell Caleb how much I loved him, because that night in the hospital he had given me so much. I stayed home with my parents even after I turned eighteen.

For my eighteenth birthday, Caleb and family through me a small party. I had presents and my favorite foods for dinner. The fact that it wasn’t my real family didn’t matter. This was so much more than I’d ever had before these people came into my life. I would stay with them often after that night, just because they wanted me there. It feels good to be wanted. It makes you feel safe.

It was the middle of the night shortly after Christmas after my eighteenth birthday. I was sleeping over at Nathan’s when something woke me. I walked down the hall to Caleb’s door. It was open a crack and I peeked inside. I saw him lying half on his stomach, the sheets pooled around his ankles before he kicked them off his feet. He turned a bit more onto his stomach. Caleb had a pillow cradled under one arm, hooked under his chest.

I watched his underwear clad hips rock into the mattress a couple of times. My throat went dry. Then he reached down and lowered his briefs off his hips, gathered around the tops of his thighs. I could see the hair-dusted globes of his ass and the dark, fur-lined cleft dividing them. I was rock hard instantly. His balls and other areas were covered, hidden by the white cotton of his underwear, but he rocked gently against the mattress a couple more times and then moaned, deep and throaty. I felt my shaft twitch hard and expel some of my clear, pearly essence into the fabric of my shorts. Then I watched as Caleb brought his hand to his mouth and liberally coated it with his saliva. Then he lowered it under him, fisting himself. I watched as he rocked into his fist, imitating the fucking action, burying his nose, grinding it into the pillow half under him.

It was as if the pillow were a substitute for whomever he wanted to see. In that moment, I knew he was thinking of his wife, Darcy. I felt very ashamed at watching, but I couldn’t move. I watched as his ass clenched and released with each thrust of his pleasure. Within moments, he started to let out a deep set of moans, telling me he was close to the end. Then he sped up, pounding into his fist that much harder, bouncing the bed slightly. Then he pushed hard once, twice then let out a low keen and grunt of pleasure. He bucked a couple of times, expelling the last drips of semen with the last spasms of his orgasm. I watched as he trembled in the afterglow and I felt myself clench and I came hard into my shorts. I hadn’t even touched it and I was drenched in my release. I was about to leave when Caleb clenched the pillow harder and started to sob quietly. I understood that sound. I understood that pain. It was the sound of gut-wrenching loneliness. I crept back down the hall, feeling guilty for having invaded his privacy.

It was getting on March and Nathan and I were trying to decide on a college. We were both leaning towards Washington State, more to just be that far away from home. Nathan’s brother Adam went there. One weekend he had Nathan drive over to look over campus. The other brother’s were gone. Phil was in the Army and Jake was in the Navy. Frank was going to school in California. So Caleb was alone for the weekend. I didn’t want to stay home, so I went to see him.

When I got to the house, he didn’t answer, but I knew he was home. I let myself in with the key he had given to me. I found Caleb in the kitchen, sitting in his underwear with a glass in front of him and a mostly empty bottle of vodka. He didn’t keep alcohol in the house, he never had. So I knew that the amount gone from the bottle was recent. Caleb looked up at me. The look on his face made me so sad. He looked lost and in pain. I just wanted to hug him, stroke his hair or maybe kiss his cheek. But when I moved closer, he made me sit and gave me his glass and started drinking straight from the bottle.

“Luc, my boy. Did you know that I have been alone for six years?”

“Yes Caleb.” He was drunk and his words were slurred, but the raw pain was there.

“My wife and I were together for seventeen years.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Me too. She was my first. Did you know that? She was my first. And only.” I didn’t say anything. I just let him talk. “We met in high school. And we waited. We waited until senior prom. And that night she made me a man and I made her a woman. I had already asked her to marry me. Then Andy was born, then Frank and Phil and Jake then Nathan. And I was so happy.”

“Then she got sick. I hated the cancer. I hated that it took her away from me. It wasn’t enough. It was supposed to be forever. I get so lonely; so, so lonely. I haven’t been with anyone else. But I can’t remember what it’s like anymore. I miss her so much, but I can’t remember making love to her. I wait so long, forcing myself to go without. But I can’t. I spend hours going over photo albums, trying to remember a time when we made love. Then I fuck my hand while holding her pillow. But it isn’t enough.”

I watched as Caleb broke down in sobs. He was so drunk and in so much pain. I just wanted to love him, but it wouldn’t happen. Then I watched as Caleb nose-dived into the table. He isn’t that much larger than me, only by a couple of inches and maybe thirty pounds. But it was a struggle getting him to his room. I pulled down the covers and lay him down. I went to cover him and he lay there, sprawled and vulnerable and so damn alone. I couldn’t help it. I kissed him. His lips tasted like vodka. But they were so warm.

I felt Caleb’s arms wrap around me like corded steel. I opened my eyes. His were shut. He pulled me down to him, tightening his clench. I lay against his big body, feeling him get hard beneath me. All I was wearing were a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Caleb rolled me under him and kept kissing me. He reached his hands down and pulled down and off my sweats. I didn’t have underwear on. Then I felt him remove his briefs. He was lying on me naked. I could feel his hard length press into my hip. I felt the soft hair of his legs as they wedged between mine. He kept rocking his hips, moving between them, seeking my opening. He pushed forward and hit me under the balls. But there was no pussy opening there. I thought he would wake up.

But he didn’t. Caleb grabbed my hips and tilted them up. I hadn’t done this before, but I couldn’t stop him. I wanted this too much. I was a virgin, but I really wanted this. The fact that he was drunk, the fact that he was straight and grieving didn’t enter my mind. I blindly helped guide his hips to me as I kept kissing him.

I felt him move his hands from my hips, felt them slide up my body, skimming my shirt up, feeling the contours of my chest. My belly was dusted with baby fine hair and I had a small patch nestled between my nipples, but I was nowhere as hairy as Caleb. He moved his hands up and grasped my pecs, rotating and squeezing them, feeling the nipples and pinching them. I moaned deeply around the tongue thrusting into my mouth, mating with my own.

He pushed forward and encountered resistance. He pushed harder and harder, his thick, hard tip was leaking against me. His blunt thrusts smeared the pre-cum around and then he parted me. He didn’t stop, didn’t let me adjust, but pushed forward, driving into me, seating himself fully in three or four heavy, hard pulses. The searing pain had me wanting to pull away, push him away. But he was too heavy on me, had me wrapped in his arms. And he kept pushing into me. I felt him pulling out and then thrusting heavily. He was big. He was huge and thick and heavy with repressed longing. His body needed.

So I stayed put, letting him use my body, letting him sate his long denied needs. It didn’t take long, ten or eleven thrusts and he cried out. I could feel his body tighten. I could feel his enormous shaft twitch with each pulse of his orgasm. I started breathing again, thankful that it was over, knowing he would remove his body and stop invading me.

But I was wrong. Caleb remained erect inside me. And he continued thrusting into me after only a slight pause. He kept grunting and kissing me, holding my body to him. His first orgasm lubricated my insides and I took him easier. I felt his essence seeping around my ring, dribbling down the back of my ass, slicking his body so it entered and exited mine with ease. And the pain went away. He kept pounding into me, hard and fast. He removed his mouth from mine and buried it against my throat so I could hear his heavy moans. I wrapped my legs around his ass, pulling him closer, riding him and feeling my body climb to release. And then it happened. He was pumping savagely into me and I exploded. I shook hard under him, releasing heavily, spewing my seed between our slick and sweaty bodies.

He never stopped. He kept thrusting into me, over and over. It wasn’t until he had cum for the fifth time that he stopped and collapsed against my body. He passed out, still buried heavily inside me. I lost count of how many times my own body had released in ecstasy. Semen was slick between our bodies. It had run down my sides and pooled on the bed around me. It started to itch, but I was too exhausted to move. I slept too, with Caleb’s heavy snores in my ear and his heart beating strong against mine.

I slept until the first ray of dawn fell across my face. Then I was aware of where I was and what had happened. My body was sore. My hips were cramped from being against Caleb’s all night. He was heavy against my chest and he was still wedged inside me. I was stretched around him and felt myself, swollen and bruised where he had entered me so roughly. But I wouldn’t change anything. If this were all I was to have, it would be enough. Then I became aware that Caleb was no longer snoring. His body tensed over mine and he pulled his head up to look at me. Confusion warred with pain as he looked at me. Then I could tell when he became aware of where his penis was. Confusion turned to weariness.

“What the hell is going on? What are you doing in my bed?”

“I… uh…”

“Luc. What happened?”

“You were drunk last night when I stopped by. I was helping you to bed. You were telling me about Darcy and then you fell on top of me…” I let my voice trail off. He knew what had happened because he was still inside me. I was hoping he would get excited, maybe want to go for another round. Instead, once realization came to him, he sat away from me, pulling out fast. I couldn’t help it. I cried out. I was so stretched; all that Caleb had ejaculated into me came pouring out, mixed with a good dose of bright red blood. I looked down between my legs, the mixture pooled onto the sheet, lying atop more bloodstains. Well, he had been a little forceful.

I watched as horror crossed his face. He turned pale and sweat beaded on his lip. Then Caleb was running into the bathroom. I heard him retching. I wanted to go help and moved to do so, but the ache was a little too strong and I whimpered. Then I heard Caleb moan and then retch again. I stayed in place, hearing him clean himself up, including brushing his teeth.

I heard the bath turn on. He filled the tub up then came walking back into the room. He had cleaned himself up, sponge washing the dried cum from his body and the blood from his dick. He came to the bed and lifted me in his arms. He carried me to the bathroom and lowered me into the tub. The water was almost too hot. But he placed me there and then left me to soak for a few minutes. I heard him moving around his bedroom. I lay in the tub, letting the warm water sooth my aching hole and loosen and rinse away the dried cum on my own body. And then Caleb was back, still naked, and I watched as he moved towards me.

He was beautiful. I had seen him in his underwear and it had hinted at his manhood. But I had never thought it would be like it was, thick and long and heavy. I started to stir under the water, remembering the pleasure and forgetting the pain. For there had been pleasure, unbelievable pleasure, over and over again I had cum. Caleb dropped to his knees and grabbed a cloth and the soap and lathered the two together. Then he proceeded to wash me. He was so gentle. I could tell by the haunted look in his eyes that he was feeling guilty.

Wow. I was hung like a horse! My telescoping vision, went in and out to admire my meaty dick, my brass balls. No wonder Eric was so afraid. Lucky for him, I was a merciful lover. I had every intention of using lots of lube.

“Coffee, coffee—” I heard Eric saying as I stepped into the kitchen. He was digging through a bottom cabinet. I reached up with my telescoping powers to the very top shelving and got down a bottle of vodka.

Eric glanced over his shoulder, saw my nakedness and my giant cock, and jumped. “AH!” he cried, and put his back to the counter. Scared he might be, and rightly so of such a humongous power tool, but those eyes were also hungry. He was licking his lips in a way that I knew all too well. Twinks are such sluts.

“Um,” he said, as I unscrewed the cap off the vodka. “You don’t need anymore to drink.”

“This isn’t for me, you wussy little fuck!” I shoved the bottle at him. “Something to dull the pain and give you courage. You can thank me later.”

“I have to drive home,” he pleaded.

Merciful I was. But not that merciful. I put the bottle to his lips. “Don’t make me pour it down your throat.”

“Okay, okay—” he started to take a sip, but I knew that wouldn’t be enough. My magnificent broadsword was going to be breeching his most delicate ring of resistance. The pain would be excruciating. I knocked the bottle up and made him swallow down half.

He coughed and cursed, and began to cry. I put aside the vodka. Shit. I didn’t want to make him “cry”. Then again, isn’t that the way he liked it? Rough?

Maybe he was crying because I wasn’t being rough enough? How could I remedy that? My telescoping eyes scoped about the kitchen and found the answer. A knife. I snatched it up.

“Time to get started,” I purred.

His moist eyes were terrified, but I knew I’d excited him. He had a boner. Oh, yes, he wanted me. “Arthur, for God’s sake,” he rasped, “put down the knife.”

I grabbed his jeans and brought the blade close enough to shave his jaw. Tears were running down his cheeks. I wanted to kiss them off his face, gently, one by one. Instead, I popped the button and his zipper went down. “Get out of these.”

Shoes came off, then his jeans. I couldn’t help but smile. He had skinny legs and knobby knees. So adorable.

Setting the knife aside, I pressed in close and brushed a hand over the outline of his small cock, hot against the fabric of his shorts. Then I reached lower, between his sweaty thighs. He moaned and parted his shaking legs for me, as I knew he would.

“Tell me about your last guy,” I demanded, rubbing at him through the cotton. He wiggled and squirmed.

“W-what?”

“Your last guy!” I snapped. “What’d he do?”

Eric flinched. “I-I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Did he force you?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed tellingly. “Yeah,” he admitted. “He forced me.”

“Like this?”

I slid my hand into his shorts and his breath caught. His nuts were warm and furry. I toyed with them until he was groaning, and then started on his cock. It fit right into my hand. My Eric’s dick was the perfect size. And I knew exactly how to arouse it.

“Oh, fuck—” he whispered.

I went exploring. Tears were still running down his face, but he was groaning and writhing under my attentions. And my cock was beginning to drip with lust.

“Arthur, Arthur, you don’t want to do this. In the morning–”

I pulled out and pushed him down. Down onto those knobby knees, where I knew he wanted to be. My meaty cock clubbed him in the face, but he didn’t seem to take any damage. He recovered and stared at it with fear.

“You know what to do.”

His lips kissed my shiny tip with all the reverence it deserved. I drew in a sharp breath as the feel that mouth shocked my groin. And then his warm tongue was bathing my cock, lapping up the precum before making its way down my straining rod.

“Oh, yeah,” I moaned, as my cock grew achingly hard, “That’s my little bitch.”

His hands timidly took hold of my hips, which made my heart melt. It was such a sweet gesture. His warm, wet throat swallowed me down as he bobbed forward and back. The sight of my cock sliding between his lips was incredibly hot, especially when he got down to the root, his nose burrowing into my pubes.

He glided back up, his tongue caressing my veins along the way. I could feel my rod pulsing and twitching with ecstasy, with agony, especially when he scraped his teeth very gently on the rim of my mushroom head. Electric shocks flickered up my spine.

Oh, God he was good. Not just in technique. With my new, telescopic powers I could sense his willingness. I’d been with twinks who liked to show off their artistry, and twinks who sucked on cock as if enjoying a delicious treat. I hadn’t been with any who’d focused so completely on me, on “my” pleasure.

Eric did. Every maneuver, every twist and turn was aimed at getting me to my destination. Even his hands, now holding firmly to my ass, seem to be guiding me higher and higher.

He left my dick to tongue my balls, making my gut tighten. Rough, I reminded myself, and grabbed his hair. He whimpered, but obediently went back to my cock. His mouth and throat were burning hot.

“I want you to be mine, all mine,” I said, imagining Eric stripped of his shorts, his body spread. Imagining my thick, powerful cock entering him. Imagining how burning tight he’d be as I pounded away. He’d scream my name, scream for more—

The rolling boil of an orgasm made my muscles clench. I pulled out as my dick began to jerk and spurt with such force I felt my knees weaken. I rode it out, till my cock was spent and starting to flag.

Eric was still staring at it. Gently, I tilted back his chin; jizz glistened on his cheeks and forehead. I was delighted. I’d marked him!

“Now you’re mine,” I said wetting a paper towel and gently cleaning him off. He was breathing hard and his face was red with shame and stimulation.

“Bed,” I told him.

I felt him shivering underneath my hands. He wobbled as I directed him out of the kitchen and to the mattress. I lay beside him, stroking him, murmuring endearments to soothe his fears. I was going to make us feel so good.

Sooooo good.

The world went dark. Next thing I knew it was morning and Eric was stumbling about, trying to get his pants on. And what the hell was Eric doing in my apartment? Without his pants on? And what was I doing stark naked?

Had something happened? As Eric sat on the bed, I grabbed his arm and asked just that.

#

Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my “God!”

I dropped down onto the bed and lowered my head into my hands as every mortifying detail slammed back into my brain. My God, my God. Why hadn’t I drunk less? Eaten more? Refused Bob’s magical mescal?

Oh, fuck me. Fuck me. Why had I done what I’d done?

“Arthur, listen to me, please—”

My God. I’d threatened him with a knife! I’d made him suck my cock…had I forced myself on him in some other way? Or had I just imagined him under me? He was scared of me, scared to death. Had I remembered everything?

“It was just a blow job, Arthur!” Eric said. He sounded like he wanted me to forgive myself. Desperately wanted that. Shit! All those bratty little twinks who could have done with a good scare and I’d abused Eric. Eric, who had no one to stand up for him. Who just had to take it.

What kind of monster was I?

“Can’t we just forget this ever happened?” he pleaded.

I met his eyes. Those beautiful gray eyes. I had wanted to make them glow with pleasure. Instead I’d infused them with fear and suffering.

“Are you out of your mind?” I murmured. How could I ever forget this?

Eric’s face paled, so much so I thought he was going to be sick. “Are you…are you going to tell Bob and the others?” he asked.

“You think I’d boast about this?” I was appalled. And then it occurred to me that given last night’s performance, he might well think I’d do that. Why not? I could put my own spin on it. Tell all our friends what a desperate, hungry, slut he’d been, how eagerly he’d swallowed my meat. Who would doubt me? Or take Eric’s word over mine?

“No, no of course not,” Eric said quickly, his manner so mollifying it cut me to the quick. “I never…I mean, of course you don’t want anyone to know about being…with me.” He said the last word so small, as if deeply ashamed of it. “I won’t say anything. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, just….”

Here it came, the price for his silence.

“Just let me walk out of here. I know you want to kick my ass, but, I swear, I never meant to–”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I shot to my feet. Eric shrunk back so quickly I thought he was going to bolt out the door. Sweat glistened on his forehead. “Kick your ass? My God, Eric, what did I say to you last night? Why would you think I’d want to hurt you?”

“I-I just know how angry you must be with me—”

“Angry with you? The only one I’m angry with is me! I forced myself on you.”

It was his turn to look bewildered. “Forced yourself? Is that what you think happened? Oh, geeze, Arthur, no. That isn’t what happened at all.”

“It isn’t?” I didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. “So…what “did” happen?”

#

* What REALLY happened—Eric*

I’ve seen a lot of drunks. Some are go so quiet you wouldn’t know they were drunk at all. Most become embarrassingly loud and obnoxious. A few are scary and belligerent.

Arthur was stubborn.

I don’t think he realized how hard those tequilas hit him. I didn’t realize it either, not until the dance. I was watching him move out on the floor, the power in his hips, in his broad shoulders. I was dreaming of what it would be like to dance with him, when his eyes fastened on me.

That’s when I knew. No one notices me at such times, not unless they’re half-gone.

He came up and dragged me into the middle of that writhing crowd. I tried to back out, but his arms clamped round me. He planted his broad hand on my lower back, and directed me about, his breaths stirring my hair. His shirt was unbuttoned and my eye was level with that dip in his throat. I stared at the sweat pooling there, inhaling his aftershave. The desire to kiss that spot was so difficult to resist I had to turn my head.

The music beat through my ears, the lights flashed. Arthur never let up. With every step his deft hands explored my body and his hips bumped groin to groin, deliberately teasing. I held to his shoulders, and I tried not to groan aloud as my cock swelled. The desire I felt for him was agonizing. Finally, the music ended, and there I was trembling and gazing up at his face. He looked like he wanted to take me out back and rape me. And I was a heartbeat away from begging him to do just that.

I saw the guys heading to the booth. Thank God! I pointed this out to Arthur and, after a moment’s hesitation, he released me and we joined them.

Unfortunately, the guys weren’t done drinking. They went through another flight of tequila shots and by the last Arthur was more fixated on me than ever. He insisted that I have a bite of the birthday flan and watched intently as I licked it off the spoon. The custard melted over my tongue, tasting of cinnamon, cream, nutmeg and lime. I had a sudden vision of Arthur kissing those flavors off my lips.

Bob shattered my daydream by bringing forth his mescal. Uh-oh. I thought, and discreetly asked the waiter to refill the water glasses. My hope was to hydrate my guys and so prevent vomiting and hangovers. I watched with trepidation as the group threw back those final (please God let them be final!) shots. Luckily, the magic mescal didn’t seem to do anything more than make them a bit drunker, and not that much drunker at that. There was no need to haul anyone to the toilet.

Eventually, John started dozing off, and Bob reluctantly admitted that it was time to bring the evening to a close. We got into the van. Given how Arthur had been acting, I decided to take him home first. Alas, he was, as I said, a stubborn drunk, and refused to leave. So I had to keep him while I drove the others home.

He was also speaking German.

“”Ich kenne Deine Geschmacksrichtung”,” he whispered confidentially. ” Geschmacksrichtung”? Wasn’t that an opera with valkyries and stuff?

I dropped off the other guys and took Arthur back to his place. He seemed willing to leave this time, but he couldn’t manage to stand up. He hadn’t seemed that drunk before, I thought with annoyance and went around to help him. He practically fell into my arms. Crap. He was heavy.

What I didn’t realize was the son-of-a-btich was faking it. He pretended he couldn’t walk, forcing me to help him to his apartment. But the second the door was open, he shoved me inside. I ended up on the hardwood floors banging my knees.

“Damn it, Arthur,” I said, getting up. “I know you’re drunk but—”

I lost the rest as I turned. He was standing between me and the door. He’d dropped his trousers and there was a significant tent in his underwear.

Ah, crap.

“”Hol’s Stöckchen, Hundi.”"

“Okay, okay.” I shrugged off my jacket. “I’m going to get some caffeine into you and then shove you into the shower.” Well, I’d try to shove him into the shower.

I headed into the kitchen feeling more than a little pissed. Why was it that no one thought I was worth fucking until they were drunk? A quick peek into the frige showed me that Arthur was very health conscious. All the sodas were sugar and caffeine free.

Okay, then, coffee.

Arthur, still by the door, was fumbling around, talking to himself in German.

“Coffee, coffee—” I muttered. I found some decaf, cursed, and searched some more. I heard Arthur behind me. There were a surprising number of cabinets boxing us in and he was able to reach the ones up high. Which was exactly what he was doing when I glanced back at him.

He was naked. And, well, I’m only human. He was…if not exactly as I’d imagined, better than I’d imagined. Smooth bronze skin, toned muscles, powerful legs and arms. His nipples were dark brown and alert. I guessed that he shaved, because except for the hair under his arms, he was smooth almost all the way down. The hair at his crotch was judiciously trimmed and seemed to frame his cock.

That handsome, aroused dick.

I was salivating and this was not good. Time to vamoose. Problem was, there was only one way out of that box and Arthur was standing there with an open bottle of vodka. He was close enough for me to feel his heat, to smell his liquored breath. His olive black eyes were glowing like embers.

“You don’t need any more to drink—” I tried.

“”Iss nich für mich, Mensch, Du….Du Waschlappen!”" he snapped and shoved the bottle at me. “”Iss für Dich.Gegen die Schmerzen und den Mut. Erinner mich später, dass Du mir dafür dankst.”"

“Arthur, I have to drive home.”

“”Zwing mich nich, es Dir wo rein zu schütten”.”

He was trying to get the bottle between my lips. I figured I’d better fake a sip, so I took it from him and tipped it. All would have gone well, except that he grabbed the bottom and upended it. A quarter cup of vodka went down my throat and alcoholic fumes shot up my nose.

I started choking and coughing. “You asshole!”

Arthur set aside the vodka and, to my alarm, snatched up one of those little paring knives. The kind you’d use to slice a kiwi. Only this one didn’t look sharp enough to do even that. Still, he might hurt himself.

“”Lass Jucken, Kumpel”!”

“Arthur, for God’s sake,” I coughed, “put down the knife.”

He grabbed hold of the waistband of my jeans, pulling at them. I think he wanted to hold the knife to my throat, but he had it a good foot from my cheek. It was really cute. He was trying so hard to be threatening.

I blinked up at him, tears streaming down my face from all the coughing. The naked man…the warm, hot, sexy, drunk naked man, wanted me to take off my pants.

“Why not?” I asked myself. “He probably won’t remember anything anyway. Yeah,” I countered, “and what if he does?”

Arthur pulled hard enough to pop the button and the zipper went down. “”Pack Dich aus.”"

I winced. Fucking things up with Arthur was not an option, but refusing him was becoming pretty impossible. Especially with him waving around that paring knife. I kicked off my shoes and got off my jeans.

He leaned in, pinning me against the counter. I felt him groping downward, and then his hot hand was stroking my cock through my underwear. I bit back a moan. Oh, Crap. It’d been so long. My cock twitched with lust and interest.

“Tell me ’bout th’ gay—” he said. At last! English! Except that he didn’t sound nearly as articulate in English as he had in German.

“What?”

“Your last gay! What’d he do?” I think he meant to whisper this in my ear, but he spit a little in my face instead. I flinched.

My last gay? Guy maybe? Oh. I remembered our earlier conversation. Arthur had asked me about the last guy I’d been with and Mike had flashed to mind. Mike. Crap.

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

Arthur was caressing my thighs, making me squirm and try to hitch myself onto the counter.

“He for you?” he demanded.

For me? “Um, yeah, he for me.”

“Like this?”

His hand went down my shorts and I jumped. Holy—

And then he was doing things to me. Things that were wearing away my objections very quickly. He fondled my balls, and oh, sweet Jesus, to have another man touching me like that. He rolled and pulled at them, my cock swelled. I hissed as his thumb teased it way up my straining length, over my sensitive slit. Slick with leaking precum, those fingers glided on down under my high nuts and oh, please, back there—

He was at my crack now, delving between my cheeks, toying with my tight hole. There was a leering grin on his face. Drunk he might be, but he knew he had me. Tears were running down my cheeks again, tears of desire and need. My cock was aching and my stomach was in knots. Any moment now I was going to break down and beg him to fuck me.

And still he played with me, raking fingernails over the soft flesh between my ass cheeks, hitting the back of my balls with his palm. Circling, maddeningly teasing my anus. My breath was coming so short and fast I thought I was going to faint.

Experience has taught me that you can’t reason with a drunk, but I gave it one, last try. “Arthur, Arthur you don’t want to do this. In the morning–”

His hand left my ass so suddenly, I cried out in bereavement. And then he shoved me to my knees. His erect cock slapped my face.

“You know what to do,” he said.

I could have gotten out of there. I could darted around his legs and out the door. I didn’t. I wanted that velvety cock in my mouth, wanted it too badly to pass it up. Breathing in that delicious fragrance, I started in, getting drunker with every salty lick and taste. His cock got harder, and I swallowed it down. A moment of pure, delicious sucking, and then I pulled back, grazed the rim of his mushroom head with my teeth as did so, tonguing the slit. Then I swallowed him down again.

I did that for a while, then took a break to lap at his balls. I loved the soft hair I found there. Loved his groans and deep breaths. When he finally touched my head, I whimpered.

Why did he have to be drunk to like me? I thought, and found I was crying. Crap. Years of teetotaling had left me vulnerable to that swig of vodka. It had gone right to my head and turned me maudlin! I sniffled, and took his hot cock back into my throat. Arthur was moaning and saying something, but I couldn’t make it out. All I knew was that his fingers were running through my hair. I think he wanted to pull on it, but he couldn’t seem to get a grip.

“I want you to be mine. All mine,” he whispered, hips rocking. I let him fuck my mouth, loving the feel of his tightening balls knocking into my chin, loving that firm, slippery cock pulsing and twitching against lips and tongue.