I was in awe as I watched Paul push his cock into me. I expected some pain, but I had practiced with a plug, and he was only a little over six inches long. Plus, he wasn’t that thick, less than an average banana. I was on my back with my ass at the edge of the bed. My hands held my knees apart. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was sensing, but it sure felt good. There was a feeling of fullness, and when he shoved a little farther into me, electricity seemed to shoot from inside my ass to all regions of my body.
As he pulled back, I wondered whether my ass hairs were clinging to his dick. That had always been a turn-on when I watched porn, and just thinking about it was doing the same thing to me here.
Paul told me to hold my legs apart until he said otherwise, but I was going crazy. I threw my head back on the bed. “Fuck. I need to jerk my cock.”
“No,” he instructed. “No touching.” He changed directions and began to push back inside.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. I love you, Paul.”
“You’re a fucking slut, Jason. You’re just a hole for me to stick my dick in,” he chuckled.
“I’m not a slut; you’re my first,” I told him.
“The fuck you say,” and he slapped me across the face. He pulled out and rolled me over and pulled my legs onto the bed.
My face was pushed down into the blanket, and it was difficult to breathe. I felt him enter me again. He was rough and while part of it felt good, I didn’t like how hard he was pushing into me. My dick was pushed into bed; I knew I was going to come, but I didn’t want to dump my load into the covers.
Paul was fucking me so hard that we were bouncing. He grabbed my shoulders and shoved himself into me. He ejaculated three times into me. Almost immediately, he got up, pulling out of me as he did. He slapped my ass. “Well, it’s not the best man cunt I’ve ever fucked, but it got the job done.”
I rolled onto my back. I wanted to hold him. I wanted him to hold me. “Lie next to me; the job’s not done, yet.” I smiled. I was looking forward to some kissing and snuggling.
“It is for me bro,” he bent down and scooped up his underwear. “My brother gives better blowjobs than you, and he’s not that good.” He turned for the door. “See you in class, dude.” He walked out without looking back.
I sat up in the bed, more alone than I had ever been. How could I have misread him? The things he said while he was fucking me, were they true? I went to the shower and washed the smell of him off me. Tears began to burn my eyes. I’d met three guys since the start of the semester to whom I had been willing to give my virginity, but I had chosen Paul. I had chosen poorly.
The next time I had sex, it was with my hand. For the next four years, I only dated my hand. Sometimes when I was done, I cried because of the overwhelming loneliness, but the loneliness was necessary. I had to protect myself.
I’d been out of school for about a year working as a database administrator in one of my company's smaller offices when I was asked to take over as the VP of Database Operations in the headquarters complex north of Dallas. I didn’t really want to move that far north as I enjoyed traveling to Padre Island occasionally, and a move would mean a seven to eight-hour drive. The money was a substantial increase, and I made some calculations and came to the conclusion that I could afford to fly and rent a car or possibly to buy a vacation home in the area, so I made the move.
I will admit that there were more things to do, such as museums, parks, and activities like fake parachuting, and it was on one of these outings that I met David. I was on a bench as I looked at an impressionist painting of what appeared to be a park scene. I don’t remember now the name of the painting, nor do I remember the artist’s name.
What I remember was some movement in my peripheral vision that turned out to be a figure in a dark jacket who approached me and sat on the bench. I glanced over; he was as far from me as he could be without falling off the side. An average looking sort, he gazed intently at the painting. I considered saying something, but I decided not to interrupt his train of thought. As I looked back at the painting, I wondered what portion of it he was studying at that moment.
“Is there something about this that seems to move?” I asked aloud.
I noticed him glance quickly at me and then back to the painting. “I don’t see movement, but there is something sinister about the people under the tree.”
I stood up and walked closer. I hadn’t noticed it before, but the man seemed to be holding the woman, and she did look off-balance.
“Do you see it?” He had walked up next to me, but I hadn’t noticed, and his voice startled me slightly.
“I do see it now.” I looked back at the figures in the shade of the tree. “I don’t like it. It’s creepy, somehow.”
“It’s not blatant enough to be on that ‘Night Gallery’ show from the 70s, but I can’t help thinking that there’s a horror story there.” He turned so his back was toward the wall. “I’m letting my imagination run away with me.”
“Why don’t we get something to drink and sit outside in the sun. You can let your imagination calm down.”
“Sure,” he replied. “I’m David, by the way.”
“Jason.” I smiled.
“Really? My first love was Jason. Well, kind of. You know the old movie, Jason and the Argonauts. The guy that played Jason, well, he’s how I knew I was gay.”
“I’ll need to watch it,” I said as I moved toward the front of the museum. There was a gift shop in the next building that sold cold drinks.
“His real name wasn’t Jason, though. It was Todd. Anyway, that doesn’t matter.”
“Are you into movies? Or just that one?” I smiled, but I wondered whether he was just nervous or strange as he rambled on about certain odd things he’d noticed in some of his favorite movies. Some of the things he had noticed weren’t odd; some of them were actually interesting. I wondered how many were actually purposeful symbolism and how many were just accidents of production, but we sat outside with our cokes and appreciated the cool breeze of early November.
As I finished my drink, David said, “You know, since you bought me a drink, we could officially call this a date. Would you like to go on a second one?”
I felt myself start to panic. Part of me said to thank him for the nice chat and get the hell out of Dodge, but his lips fascinated me. They looked so kissable. I sure could use some kisses. Plus, I’d never had a blowjob, would he be interested in that? I was so tired of being alone. I needed to answer him. “What if we order some pizza and watch a movie at my place?”
He smiled. “Yeah? Really? I’d love it. I’ll just follow you. Oh, but let me put your address in my phone in case I lose you.”
“Sure.” I gave him the address, and we headed to my place. Once we got to my apartment, David began looking through my DVD collection and scanning streaming services. He noticed that I have several Christmas movies saved on my DVR and chose “Holiday Affair.” I always thought it was a cute, but a silly movie, and I usually watched it while setting up my Christmas tree. I heard that Robert Mitchum was in the movie to soften his image after getting arrested for something.
I had changed into running shorts and a t-shirt while we waited for the pizza, and once it arrived, we started the movie. We ate our pizza while it played, and I noticed that any time David needed to get more to drink or another slice, he paused the movie. He didn’t want to miss one word of dialogue or one frame of the picture. When it was over, I gathered what little trash we’d made and carried it into the kitchen. I put my glass into the sink when I felt him press into me. I was certain he had a boner, and I wondered to myself why he hadn’t given me any sign that he was attracted to me.
David wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him. My back was pressed to his chest, and he whispered to me. “I think you’re really handsome. Would you kiss me?”
Maybe he’s just shy, I thought. I turned around. He had a definite erection. It excited me to think that I excited him. I pressed my lips to his; they were indeed soft. He kissed back and was mirroring my actions. I buried my fingers into the hair on the back of his head. It was soft, and I tingled as I pulled his head more tightly to me.
He slipped his hands into my pants, and I felt his fingers grip my penis. I was already semi-hard, and I went into full erection mode almost immediately. “I bet you want to stick this dick inside me, don’t you.” I began to breathe erratically. He wanted me to fuck him.
“Yes.” I could barely get the word out. I’d met one man since getting out of college. We’d chatted for two months before meeting one another, and when we did meet, he wasn’t even close to the profile he’d posted. He acted as though I were crazy when I insisted that he didn’t look like the photo he’d emailed me of himself. He was a full six inches shorter than he’d told me and almost fifty pounds heavier.
The man in front of me now was a decent looking man who was a great kisser and now had me rock hard. I led him into the bedroom, and he undressed and got on the bed. He’d brought lubricant with him. He promised me he was clean and that he rarely did this. I got on my knees between his legs, and his fingers were like magic as they spread the lubricant on my throbbing member.
I almost fell over when he straightened his legs and spread them to form a straight line from toe to toe. “I practice ballet and gymnastics,” he said. He tilted slightly to expose his hairless hole. “Push it in. Do it all at once.”
I complied and immediately my eyes rolled back in my head. “Oh, fuck, that’s so awesome,” I cried.
“Yeah,” agreed David. “I have one tight asshole, and you have a nice, thick cock. We were made for this.”
I began to hump him without much thought. It just seemed so natural. As I thrust into him, David grunted in a deep voice that didn’t seem to be his. Occasionally, I heard a deep ‘fuck me,’ but it was mostly unintelligible. I reached down to his dick and began to jerk it as I fucked him. I saw him smile. I began to speed up, and as I came, my body tensed. I felt David punch me in the belly, and when I looked down, I saw the handle of the knife. No blood from the wound, just the handle.
His laugh was maniacal. I saw him pull the knife out and plunge it back in another spot. I felt a pinch as the blade disappeared inside me. The room darkened, but I could still hear him laugh.
The police were in the hospital room when I woke up. Somehow, I had called 911. I had no memory of it. With the information I had, his phone number, the description of his car, along with the images from the security cameras, the police searched for him. Their findings: There was no real evidence that David ever existed. But he is out there; I know that he is still out there.
