Again

After that night whenever David and I crossed paths it was never the same. He treated me like another one of his one-night-stand loves. We made love I cannot deny that. The way he penetrated my ass was no pretense for one of those things we call a “booty call.” I started to stalk him. Anytime he was on E news with another woman I hated that bitch, I knew he was gay and so did he. “Stop trying to hide it,” I yelled at myself, punching my pillow once again, pretending it was Jennifer Anniston. If he wanted me he would call me.

After a few months he did just that. My asshole got wet when I saw his name on my phone. “Hey what are you doing he asked.” I wanted to get mad but how could I. All I imagined was his big dick in my virgin ass. “Why the fuck haven’t you called,” I asked with sarcasm. “I’ve been busy on broadway, filming Curb Your Enthusiasm episodes.”

We decided to meet up at a small café` during the day. I got real drunk that afternoon, fantasizing about what he would do to me, not knowing what would come of it.

He bought me a small coffee with some whipped cream. He wanted me to put it on my lips and call him daddy. I agreed. That must be what he wanted, a father figure slurping up what was left of his “childhood.”

Once again I found myself in his loft, ass in the air, begging for dick. He wanted to put whipped cream on my asshole and fuck it off of me, I agreed. His dick went in and out of my ass taking that sweet sugary paste farther and farther away from my fuck hole. He wanted me to taste the sweat and whipped cream, but I told him I couldn’t. Oh that made him mad, Jesus. He slammed my face into the ground to make me bloody, then mixed it with the whipped cream, and told me it was the “candy cane.” Fuck was my dick hard.

I Saw David Again...

I was at a fundraiser for seals that had been massacred by Russian fishing boats when our eyes locked. We exchanged glances for a few minutes flirty at that. I knew he remembered me. How could he forget his giant cock in my virgin ass.

He approached me with the slyness of a fox, saying his hello's to people who greeted him when he passed, all while returning his glance to me. He glared at me with those eyes that made me strive for his cock once in my ass again.

"How have you been?" He inquisitively flirted.

I pretended to sip my wine, but shyly looked up from my glass and said, "Oh you know, I've been auditioning for a few plays here and there, but mostly hosting at Venus Blue."

I had been working as a host at a new "gay hot spot" in the east village while auditioning for various plays that my agent had given me.

"Oh, well if you ever need someone to put a good word for you, let me know," he replied.

"Oh David, don't be so fake with me, ask me if I want to fuck already," I said bluntly.

His jaw dropped and he blushed. He beckoned and I followed. We entered a cab, and proceeded into the wet New York night. He tried to make small talk with me in the cab, but I didn't let him have it.

When we got to the apartment, he opened a very nice bottle of red wine, after he blew the dust off it. At least he cared, I thought. We had a few glasses and oh boy was I ready. We proceeded to that familiar bed shaded by see-through fabric. He undressed me and started to play with my asshole.

"May I shave you?" he asked

I was puzzled. Was I hairy?

"Am I too hairy for you?" I asked

"No, I just like shaving other people," he said.

He lathered my ass with lotion and gracefully shaved my ass with the most tender stroke. After he finished we went into the shower so I could clean off. He was so hard and so was I. We fucked for what seemed like hours, like I remembered. He finished me off on the bed and made me swallow his dick until I choked with a mouth full of cum.




Yea I just did that

-RAHB

Semi-Sober Life

Not really. I'm drinking again. I have wine some beer etc. It's one of those things that just goes by the by, but no one really notices. I drink, but it's manageable. We say to specific people, you are definitely an alcoholic, but we don't give them credit. Do you drink regularly? Do you drink to cope with pain and suffering? It's a thing that suggests pain and suffering, but in manageable quantities we suggest manageability. I fear only death, that which promotes the possibility of no more breathing. When it happens anxious feelings overcome the possibility of feeling normal and that's normal. Se io andare in bici, io battara' da un macchina. That's that. Should I wear a helmet? Precautions that a person would take.

Will I ever be okay? That is the utmost question. Semi-Weekend update from R-O-B. I got offered a full time position at Best Buy, and with my current schedule I could possibly do it. 32 plus hours of work with benefits sounds absolutely amazing to me. I get the paid vacation I've always wanted. With leverage I negotiated the possibility of a "Sales Leader" promotion. Look at me, the man with all that was once known as Ricky, selling cell phones with power. Yikes. Anyway, I'm becoming the college fellow with a plan for life, Woah Woah.
-Rahb