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RichEisbrouch

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About RichEisbrouch

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    Los Angeles, California
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    writing, research, staying in touch with friends, work and volunteer work, walking our dogs...

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  1. RichEisbrouch

    Chapter 15

    20 From Ruiz: Gee I don’t know why you’re feeling cruddy about yourself when you’ve given yourself permission to be the happiest man on earth. From Alan: Rub it in, asshole. From Ruiz: Now you’re calling me an asshole. From Alan: I mean it affectionately, and you know it. From Ruiz: But you still feel crummy. From Alan: I feel like a shit with an erection. From Ruiz: Ha. From Alan: Yeah, I’m a funny guy. From Ruiz: But you’ll still meet me. From Alan: “A person’s a person no matter how...” From Ruiz: What. From Alan: Dr. Seuss. From Ruiz: I’m not that young and I’ve always hated his books. I thought they were stupid. From Alan: Wait till you have kids. From Ruiz: No way. From Alan: You never know. These days, you could find a nice guy, marry him, and adopt – even in Iowa. From Ruiz: Not gonna happen. From Alan: You’re twenty-six. You never know what’s gonna happen. That’s one of the great things about being twenty-six. Along with your dick being hard all the time. From Ruiz: Ha. Though the most important thing you’ve said is that you’re gonna meet me. From Alan: Cutting right through my bullshit. From Ruiz: You used to be a gentleman. It’s one of the things I liked. From Alan: Heavy on the “used to be.” But not so heavy I’ll get pissed off. From Ruiz: Ha. From Alan: You’re just having a ball here, aren’t you? From Ruiz: Ok - I’ll try to be serious. I can do Saturday morning. From Alan: What time? From Ruiz: I like the idea of staying overnight. Like the idea of drugging myself a little and sleeping in my t-shirt and torn briefs and tying my ankle to the leg of the bed. And I like waking up in the dark. From Alan: I don’t like the drugs. You never know how much you’ll take. From Ruiz: It’ll just be over the counter stuff - a baby sleeping pill or something. I’ll be careful. From Alan: I still might not be able to wake you in the morning – not as much as you’d like. From Ruiz: Then it’ll seem even more like a dream - which’d be great. From Alan: I don’t like drugs. From Ruiz: Ok, no drugs dad, I got it. I’ll have a couple of beers before I go to sleep. Is that alright. From Alan: Now you’ve got me laughing at myself. And I know you’re not one of my students, and I don’t mean to treat you that way. From Ruiz: You’d lose your job. From Alan: Don’t. Go. There. From Ruiz: Ha. From Alan: How high are you? From Ruiz: Not high at all. I had a few beers when I came home to let me celebrate. From Alan: For trapping a moron? From Ruiz: An imaginative moron. Want to jerk me off. From Alan: Are you gonna expect that every night? From Ruiz: Well you set the bar. From Alan: Which you quickly obliterated. From Ruiz: And your change of plans was a nice surprise. From Alan: I didn’t expect it. Didn’t expect last night, either. You kind of showed me for the rat I am. From Ruiz: Stop beating yourself up. It’s nothing I meant to do - nothing planned and plotted. The whole Iowa City thing occurred to me when I woke up this morning and I more or less wrote it as I thought it forward. From Alan: What brought it on? From Ruiz: Oh come on. Everything that happened last night. The way I felt afterward. The way I felt this morning. From Alan: You’re still sure of that? After a day of rational thinking? From Ruiz: Well it was just this morning. I’ll re-read what I wrote at some point. But yeah I’m sure. I want to see you. From Alan: It’s just something of a reversal – almost completely dropping your fantasies. As big a change as my own. From Ruiz: Yours is more interesting. From Alan: I’m assuming I’ll stay dressed. From Ruiz: Most likely. From Alan: No overt sex. No cheap hook-up. Just you following instructions. From Ruiz: Correct. From Alan: We shouldn’t need to text or talk once I’m in the room. You seem to like silence. From Ruiz: Whatever’s more erotic. From Alan: I can’t remember if the hotel room doors can stay unlocked. Or if you’ll have to open it when I knock. From Ruiz: I want to be in bed when you come in. If I need to I’ll figure out a workaround so you can push the door open. But definitely silence and no electronics. From Alan: I’ll need a little light. From Ruiz: It won’t be black. Your eyes’ll adjust. From Alan: Possibly. From Ruiz: Would you maintain distance then and not remove articles with your hands. From Alan: No distance needed. I’ll very slowly strip you. Or point. From Ruiz: What do you mean. From Alan: If I need you to move. Or touch yourself in a certain place. From Ruiz: I see. From Alan: I’ll want to get in contact with your body first and have you used to my doing that. I may slip behind you against that headboard and have your back against my chest. Explore you with my hands. Are you OK with that? An alternative would be me motioning you to lie flat, then sitting beside you on the bed. But from behind and against you seems more erotic. From Ruiz: I hadn’t considered that. I’ll have to think. From Alan: How long do you want your glasses on? From Ruiz: If we’re not texting, they won’t be on. From Alan: I’d like to see you in them though. I’ve never thought of you that way, and I like guys in glasses – sometimes naked guys. They could be the last thing that goes – before your shorts. From Ruiz: I just use them for computers. And reading. They’re drug store. From Alan: The other thing is it’s virtually impossible to rip a T-shirt. In movies, they’re rigged. And Henleys would be worse. They’re usually thicker. From Ruiz: If you end up behind me you can lift it off. From Alan: Then I can’t use it to tie you. If you still want that. In your imagination, how are your wrists restrained? From Ruiz: Over my head. Like you told me to when I was fucking the mattress. From Alan: OK. Also, I thought you were pretty protective about your chest. Will the light be dim enough, or should your Henley come off just before your shorts? From Ruiz: Any of it sounds great. Though I think the order of clothes should be Shoe Shoe Sock Sock Outer shirt Partially unsnapping sweats Undershirt Sweats Glasses Briefs From Alan: When do you get tied? After your briefs are off? From Ruiz: I’m answering your questions as you ask them but don’t feel too rigid. As my clothes come off they can be used against me. From Alan: Good, because there’s going to be a lot of exploring. If you hate something, simply shake your head. From Ruiz: The briefs are hopefully the last to go. After a long time. From Alan: Unless something happens spontaneously. From Ruiz: Agreed. From Alan: And I won’t let you masturbate till the end. And bring your lube. And go back and read what you sent me this morning and tell me if you have changes. From Ruiz: Alright. From Alan: A couple more questions: You’ve mentioned being interested in dark fantasy – is that where the restraints come in? And does masturbating in front of me seem like pleasure or following instructions? And have you ever done anything similar to this, and were there parts you’d want to improve? Or liked best? From Ruiz: I’ve never done anything like this before. Anything you think of is fine. It’s impossible to predict everything. And I understand my fantasies don’t exactly correspond. As to the masturbation question - note that I never use that word. I just spoke of “without restriction.” So I think the answer to that depends on what you find more arousing. From Alan: Your masturbating in front of me came from an earlier fantasy. I wondered if you were still interested. From Ruiz: Oh, I forgot - thanks. The restraints came from the idea of a possibly torn shirt. Or a shirt going up my arms and accidently/purposely restraining my wrists. And keeping my hands confined while yours are all over me. From Alan: Got it. Thanks. Though even after a couple of hours, I might not know your body well enough to get you off – not the way you’d like. And I won’t ruin your orgasm by insisting on doing it for you. From Ruiz: That makes sense. But you have the run of my body and the ability to command anything I do. And if you decide to wreck my orgasm that’s your choice. From Alan: That’s nasty. From Ruiz: Maybe I’d like it. From Alan: Like fucking the air? From Ruiz: Yeah - in frustration. From Alan: It might be more fun to watch how you masturbate and then try it on you myself. Better for both of us. From Ruiz: Your call. From Alan: Is the idea of writing all this already giving you pleasure? From Ruiz: It was intense this morning. Lower now. From Alan: Do you think that might change again? That’d be fine. You just need to tell me. From Ruiz: No, it’s lower now cause I’m in bed and relaxed after a long day of work conversations. From Alan: You’ve just suddenly opened a lot of possibilities – things I didn’t think you’d be ready for. Not for some time. From Ruiz: Like. From Alan: Like allowing in some light. And actually having your clothes off – especially your shirt – not just in some fantasy. And the direct contact. From Ruiz: The light will probably be a cracked bathroom door - so not that bright. And I’m getting more used to being naked. You’ve made that ok. And I really need your hands on me. I want them in all my secret places. From Alan: You’ve mentioned your mouth being an erogenous zone. With fingers? Kissing? Is that still too intimate? From Ruiz: Fingers are fine. We’ll see about kissing. From Alan: You also mentioned a sensitive place on your butt. Between your cheeks? You only mentioned it once. From Ruiz: Yes - at the very top. I can only reach it when I’m on my stomach and I’m usually on my back. From Alan: In our joint fantasy, when I had one hand on your mouth and the other on your butt, you mentioned hitting both your erogenous zones From Ruiz: Under my arms and the crease on my leg are still the strongest. You’ll have to see. From Alan: OK. Are the torn shorts loose enough for me to touch your balls? From Ruiz: Absolutely. From Alan: I’m not sure you’ve mentioned your nipples. In some guys, they’re sensitive and others not. And does tickling arouse or annoy you? From Ruiz: Somewhat arouse. Chest - it depends. From Alan: Do these questions arouse or annoy you? I don’t mean to be giving you a physical. Just trying to avoid guessing in the dark. From Ruiz: They neither arouse nor annoy. How do I compare to other guys you see. From Alan: I told you, I don’t see many anymore. A very occasional old friend. From Ruiz: Then other guys you’ve seen. How old and how fit are they - if you don’t mind me asking. From Alan: Most have been much closer to my age, and they all have very similar bodies. That’s less my preference than how we all take care of ourselves now. I’ll know more about yours on Saturday morning. From Ruiz: Ok. From Alan: Does the thought of me with other guys arouse you? From Ruiz: Yeah, some, or I wouldn’t ask. From Alan: Are you planning to masturbate before Saturday? From Ruiz: You know I don’t really plan. From Alan: Double checking. From Ruiz: What’s near the top of your anticipation list. From Alan: Mainly being in the room with you. Knowing we have time and the freedom to play. That alone could sail me through tomorrow. And you? From Ruiz: Your hands gradually unsnapping my tear-aways. The sound of each snap reluctantly giving in. From Alan: I never would’ve thought of that. I’ll have to remember not to shortcut your fun. From Ruiz: Appreciated. Drawing out my strip is extremely preferred. And your hand staying on the front of my briefs for a very long time. From Alan: Everything will be properly slow. I’ll be in no hurry to leave. Your body and my time limit will probably give out before our imaginations. And you can place my hands as well as my placing yours. No words needed. From Ruiz: Understood. From Alan: I’ll explore other places, too. But the front of your shorts will be home base. From Ruiz: Good. From Alan: Now go to sleep, kid, and I’ll try to do the same. You have the advantage of being able to touch yourself – freely. Don’t underestimate that. From Ruiz: Ha. From Alan: Back tomorrow. Same time. From Ruiz: Yeah. But from the room. From Alan: ‘Night. From Ruiz: ‘night.
  2. RichEisbrouch

    Chapter 9

    You've lost it. Stop reading immediately and start reading something clearly logical, like the constitution.
  3. RichEisbrouch

    Chapter 14

    Thank you for laughing. As I've said, a lot of people think my writing is very serious.
  4. RichEisbrouch

    Chapter 14

    16 From Ruiz Things are shifting in my thinking. Becoming more direct. To keep certain comfort levels high, please consider meeting me in Iowa City Friday night. I’ll take a hotel room. We’ll be messaging or texting prior. Once you park, I’ll give you the room number. When you enter, I’ll be on the bed with my back against the headboard. So you’ll know what to expect, I’ll be wearing: Glasses. The black button down shirt you’ve seen. A gray henley underneath. Black tear-away sweatpants with snaps. Black ankle socks. My black Converse sneakers with the zippers. The torn briefs. We may continue texting in the room to maintain silence. Or speak in whispers. If there’s something you want to hear me say, you can command it via text. I’ll say anything you want to hear. Please take my clothes off at a very slow pace. I can’t remember the last time I let something like this happen. So the longer it, takes the higher my comfort level. And the more intense my arousal. If you’d rather maintain distance, text me what to remove or undo. The henley can be torn and used to restrain my wrists or ankles. Please use your hands on my entire body without restriction. Please use your mouth on me without restriction. Please keep my hardon covered for as long as possible. Please note anything I’ve previously revealed regarding areas of my body and behaviors like the uses of my precome that arouse me. Please tell me anything you’d like to watch and I’ll do it for as long as you desire. There is no backstory or narrative. While in the hotel room, I’ll completely submit to your will. I trust you. 17 From Alan My first instinct is to say, “What are you nuts? I know the other night on the phone was hot, but haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve said about my family, my privacy, and my restrictions?” And my second instinct is to think, “Whoa! What kind of messages have I been sending? I did after all jerk you off over the phone – happily walked you right through that. Then I went down the basement, took a shower for a hour at one in the morning, and came at least twice. And I would have been laughing and howling and giggling the place down if I’d been alone in the house. So no wonder you think you have the right to have me meet you whenever and wherever you want. I’m really sorry I led you on. I’m really sorry I led myself on. I can’t meet you in a hotel. I’m not single and twenty-six. I’m sorry. 18 From Ruiz That’s not good enough. You have been leading me on, and I know you’re sometimes an asshole about that. And I may be the kid you sometimes call me, and I’m sure you think of me that way. And I may be inexperienced and totally screwed up when it comes to having sex with guys or sex with anyone and about knowing what I want and ignoring what’s good for me. But at least I’m willing to put my body out there naked for you and let you do to it what you’d like. And I’m not asking you to live with me or love me or even like me. And I told you I’m not looking for a hookup. But you’re the most interesting man I’ve ever met, and the most inventive, and I think about having sex with you all the time. Or at least much too much. And I think about you having sex with me, and using me in any way, and that just makes me want you more. And I know you want me or you wouldn’t have come twice in that shower thinking about me. And remembering what you’d just done to me, or thinking about what you could do to me - on the phone, in the park, in a parking lot, or in a hotel room. It doesn’t matter. And I’m not asking the impossible. It’s just a couple of hours in a place that’s not near your home, on an early Friday evening as you once mentioned, and you can make easy excuses and still be home by 8:00, helping your daughters with their homework or watching TV with your wife. No one will ever know the difference. I can even make it late Friday afternoon - after you finish school - and you can be home for dinner. And I can meet you in a hotel or motel in Cedar Rapids or someplace nearer than Iowa City if that makes it easier. Just pick a place and I’ll get a room. You don’t even have to pay me for half, and your name will never appear on the check-in. I don’t know what more I can say. I’m precoming more than I probably ever have in my life, and it’s soaked through my briefs and my jeans, and I’ve got to go change. 19 From Alan I don’t see any honorable way out of this except my saying, “Yes. Sure thing. See you Friday. Sounds great,” but even then we’d have to work out some logistics. And, yeah, I know what a bullshit word “logistics” sounds like, especially in this situation. But I can’t just disappear for a couple of hours uncovered. The Coralville Marriott would be better than any place in Iowa City. The best place would still be your apartment or house, but you may have roommates, or still live with your parents, or even be married though I very much doubt that. It would be too funny. In any case, I’ve met guys at the Marriott, and it’s an easy in and out, and I know where to park, and how to slip in the service entrance, and how to walk up the side stairs. Also, there’s a conference center attached to the hotel, so if I do run into anyone I know – which is very unlikely since I never have over all these years – I could offer a half-logical excuse. As long as no one wonders why I’m attending a conference on something like farm subsidies. And yeah, late afternoon would be better, but not this Friday because there’s a football game that evening that I need to be at but maybe next week. Tuesday or Thursday might work – I’d have to check my calendar. Or even this Saturday morning, early. You could take a hotel room Friday night and act out your fantasy then leave the door unlocked in the morning with the drapes tightly closed if you still need that dark. I’d slip in around 7:00 or 7:30 and stay for a couple of hours. I know that’s a compromise, and I don’t know what that does to your fantasies. And I’m sure you know that half of me is doing this because I don’t like being – or being thought of as – an asshole, which makes this all ego. And when the other half of the reason is all dick, it does make me seem like an incredible jerk.
  5. RichEisbrouch

    Chapter 60

    Unperdictable effects that will dome the ships. Priests must practice mortality throughout their careers. The price for the dress is rather miserable and worthy. The lake of proper instruction. We have been waitresses to calumny. The company has a monotony on stocks. He has a great work ethnic. Venison is awesome, and we all love it. Many people will do what they can see. They were warty and wanting. Compulsion always leads to disaster. The event covered in mist dampens the moral standard. Everyone is a prison of their time. The moral standard cures the patients. These issues has been debately a bunch. Ununderstodable reasones. His aerosol of weapons. The planets on which the ants feed. A personal human being. Moretheless. First and formore. Priminster. Hot tossed buns. Proof reaqdfing.
  6. RichEisbrouch

    Chapter 8

    I think you're ignoring the warning and reading too many of these too quickly. You're beginning to think like a college student. Of course, that's not the worst thing.
  7. RichEisbrouch

    Chapter 7

    Yep, though that somehow seems like the plot to a comic book story involving time travel. .
  8. RichEisbrouch

    Chapter 13

    15 From Alan: I accidentally drove into an isolated dead end last night, way out Center Point Road, and immediately thought of you standing naked there, caught in my car's headlights. From Ruiz: That’s erotic. From Alan: Yeah, but dangerous. I drove there again this afternoon, in daylight, to try to figure out exactly where I was. There’s a small, windowless trailer, about the size of a small horse trailer, parked in the dead end, and I think someone’s living in it. From Ruiz: An element of threat or menace can be likewise erotic. What’s the address, so I can see it via Google. From Alan: There’s no address because there are no buildings for about a half mile. I don’t even know the street name. I’ll have to check. From Ruiz: Sounds good. From Alan: It doesn’t seem to have a name. There are no signs. It’s just the far end – northeast end – of a delivery road in the industrial park. Diagonally northeast of 380. From Ruiz: Got it. What were you doing there? From Alan: Picking up a forklift that was loaned to the school. From Ruiz: As I come to consciousness, the first sound I become aware of is the sound of seams in the road as the tires pass over them. The sound syncs with the slight bump I feel underneath my entire body as I lay flat on my back on the hard plastic floor in the back of the truck. From Alan: I've got this naked guy in the back of my pickup with a tarp stretched over him. I bungee corded his wrists together, but he can probably get out of that when he wakes up. The only reason I got him naked in the truck was I found him passed out halfway into what I'm guessing is his SUV. If I'd been a good guy, I'd've helped him into his front seat, safely seat belted him in, closed the door, and let him sleep it off till morning. But I'm an asshole and a little drunk myself, and besides, he was in a dark corner of the parking lot where no one could see us. So I stripped him, tossed his clothes, keys, and any IDs into his car, locked that, and lifted him into the back of my truck. Now I just gotta find a place to have fun with the little fuck. Sure in hell ain't gonna take the boy home. From Ruiz: I didn’t really expect this from you! I think I’ll take it someplace more comfortable for you, where you can be closer to yourself. I’m lucid now and try to focus my thinking. I can’t see anything and can’t tell if my eyes are open or closed or covered. My hands are together and I try to separate them. I feel some sort of restraints around my wrists holy shit my heart starts racing. I move my hands around and feel my stomach, upper thighs, pubic hair, penis then my mind races to an instant checklist of all the parts of my body that feel something cold: my bare heels against cold hard plastic, my uncovered calves against same, my ass against cold, my shoulder blades, the back of my head. I know I’m naked. Something is covering me and I feel it with my hands I think it’s a plastic tarp. I’m wide awake now and really scared. The sound stops as the vehicle halts. I hear a car door slam and then a hatch opening. Warm air flows over me and I can smell ash in it. I can hear cars speeding by and I know I’m by a freeway. Nothing happens for what feels like an endless moment and I start to wonder if I’ve been left here. I think to sit up why did it take me so long to think of this and then two hands close around my ankles, gripping them. I decide in an instant not to resist and in fact to play dead. The hands pull sharply and I feel my ass and shoulders slide across the hard plastic. The hands let go of my ankles and my legs fall freely until I can feel the ledge of the truck hatch under my legs. My bare feet are hanging in space. I feel the tarp as it’s dragged off my body. The hands return to my legs, now on my thighs. They move up my thighs, grip, and pull again. I can feel the his jeans against my inner thighs and testicles. My bound hands had unconsciously gone to a protective position over my penis, I realized as the hands closed around my wrists and lifted them until they were above my head on the floor of the truck bed. Then a hand slid under my head and lifted it as I heard his words: “Drink it.” I felt glass touch my lower lip and I opened my lips so he could pour. The taste was vodka – and something else. A slightly bitter taste I couldn’t immediately place. Then his voice again: “Something to help you relax.” The effect was strong and immediate. He touched the shaft of my cock and I started getting hard under his fingertips as they moved slowly down. He and I heard a moan leave my mouth. Then I heard a distant siren and his hand left me. There was a moment of stillness. The siren got louder as it neared. Then his hands on my thighs again as he pulled my ass to the ledge of the truck. His hands went under my arms as he lifted me up to stand. I felt my bare soles on cold cement. My hands were suddenly unbound. His voice: “Keep your eyes closed.” And I felt some kind of cloth blindfold leave my face. I stood silently as the siren got louder and I heard the truck hatch close, then a door open and close. The truck started and I felt exhaust hit my calves. Then I heard the truck drive away. I thought about opening my eyes to read his plate but was still too scared. The siren got closer and closer. I thought about being naked in front of police officers. Then the siren passed, on what seemed like a street below the one I was on. With only the sound of passing interstate traffic now, I open my eyes. It’s dark out. 380 is to my right. I’m standing alone in a cul de sac, surrounded by dirt. I turn around to see a small windowless trailer. I think about going to knock on the door, at least to ask for shorts and a t-shirt. Then I hear a car approaching so I turn back. Is the truck coming back for me? I don’t think so, the sound is already different. I can see headlights now. I keep waiting for them to turn into a garage but they keep getting closer. I cover my cock with my hands, but just the touch between my palm and my cock reminds me physically that five minutes ago I was fed an aphrodisiac. I feel my head getting lighter and my cock starts swelling again. I try to focus my thoughts on anything else but this but my cock keeps getting harder. I move right arm to conceal my erection and shift my weight nervously as the driver of the car sees me and brakes. I can’t see him or her beyond the blinding headlights, which are lighting my entire naked body. I know even my pubic hair is visible, but I focus everything on keeping my hardon hidden behind my forearm, my right hand covering and holding my testicles. The headlights go dark first, then the engine quiets as it’s turned off. I focus on the windshield but can’t see much more than a blur without my glasses. I stand helpless, naked, waiting to meet the driver - maybe my savior. I stand waiting as the cars rush by on the nearby interstate. The car sits silently before me. I never heard his window go down but suddenly his voice: “Get in.” I can hear in his voice kindness and pragmatism. Without even seeing him, I walk quickly around to the passenger door, open the door with my left hand, and swiftly sit down onto the seat. I reach over somewhat awkwardly to pull the door handle closed with my left hand, careful as I am to keep my right hand and arm where they are – though I comprehend instantly that my hardon is barely concealed from the driver’s vantage point to my left. He powers up his window and the car is quiet now. I can see him better now. He has a regal face, with warm eyes behind glasses. His eyes hold on my own. I hear myself ask him, “Where am I?” He answers in a soft voice, “You’re safe.” He rests his right hand on my bare thigh, to comfort me. Of course he couldn’t know that not ten minutes ago I was made to drink vodka and something more, and that just his eyes on me, and his voice, and now his hand on my thigh are arousing me beyond language. His eyes don’t leave mine and his hand stays on my thigh and my head starts racing again. I don’t know anything about this man, or what to say, but I feel instantly safe in his presence. Having held my gaze, I’m surprised as his eyes deliberately break from mine and I watch as they slowly look down my body. They seem to take their time looking at my shoulders and biceps, then my torso. When I see them looking toward my pubic hair, I make a choice and pull my hand away from my hard cock. I want him to see it. I want him to want it. I want him to want me. A drop of precome wells up, glistening in the dim light. We both see it. I watch as his right hand leaves my thigh and his thumb wipes the precome off my head, like he’s cleaning me. The sensation of his thumb touching me for even a second is almost too much to bear. He brings his thumb to my lips and glazes the precome across them, feeding my body’s own lubricant back to me. He drives his thumb between my lips into my mouth. As I felt the tip of his thumb make contact with my tongue, I tasted my own precome. He pulls his thumb from my mouth and rests it on my lips a moment. I understand the message instantly: no more talking. Then he reaches past me with his long arm to grip and pull the seatbelt across my torso and waist. He grabs my hand and inserts it under the belt and I know then that my arms are to remain restrained for the duration of the ride. Precome keeps welling from my opening and he wipes another large drop with his thumb, rubbing it around and into my hard left nipple. I moan so loud in the silent car that I worry instantly that he’ll be mad at me. Instead, he simply starts the car, and steers is out of the cul de sac. The small trailer recedes behind us as he drives me to wherever he wants to take me. We ride in silence and I keep my gaze down at my precoming hardon. He drives us out of the two lane road, and a few minutes later I look up as he pulls into a hotel and parks. I don’t ask questions as he takes the keys from the ignition and exits the car. I hear the trunk open and then close soon after. The passenger door opens suddenly his arm is passing before me and he releases my seatbelt, then guides it back across my bare chest. His other hand appears, holding a small wad of clothing. I accept the offering and separate the bundle into its components: a sweatshirt and sweatpants. I pull them on, pants first. They’re clearly his as they carry his scent and they’re large on me. He steps back from the door and I know I’m meant to exit. I move my bare foot from floor the car to the cold concrete of the parking structure and exit the vehicle, standing before him. The sweatpants are apparently without elastic and start to fall. I catch the falling waistband with both hands and hold them up, hands together on the front of my waistband. He’s a good few inches taller than me, which explains why my sweatpants are pooling around my ankles. He closes the car door and starts walking. Without even a moment’s thought about it, I follow right behind, as he must somehow have known I would. We cross the parking structure level to an elevator. He pushes the button and we wait. The doors open and we enter, standing side by side. The elevator door opens and we step out into a lobby. He walks and I follow, with my eyes to my bare feet and the floor passing underneath. I can hear voices of what I intuit are receptionists at registration but I don’t look up. I wonder if they’ve noticed us, and me, and my feet, and what they think is going on. We wait for another elevator while the voices keep humming somewhere behind us. The doors open and I step inside, followed by you. The doors close. We stand side by side. I feel on my lower back a sudden puff of cool air from behind - I think to myself it’s weird that there’s suddenly a breeze inside this elevator. Finally it dawns on me that my t-shirt hem is somehow being lifted to expose my skin. I don’t know why it doesn’t occur to me that it’s your hand lifting my t-shirt. Then I feel something that startles me to the point of confusion: your fingertips slide under the waistband of my shorts. I feel your fingers moving down skin and try to wrap my head around this reality. Your middle finger slides into a muscular notch above my ass and just rests there. I catch my breath audibly, which I’m instantly embarrassed by, then fall into silence. I keep my face down, staring at my bare feet and the floor. My mind races around the question - how you could know what touch in this precise area does. Who would have told you, how would you have found out, that that area is basically my ignition - that anyone who touches it sort of instantly takes control over my will and, as desired, the rest of me. Somehow you do know what touch in that place does to me and so you start, here and now, to use that knowledge toward your own ends: maybe I only imagine your finger slightly moving or maybe it really does move, but just barely, in that notch. It feels intense, arousing. I try to swallow the sound forming in my throat, to try not to betray my feelings, so I’m surprised to hear my own voice say one small word, sounding too much like a plea: “Please.” And I know you can discern in that sound a kind of submission. I can tell you understood it as I hear your breathing start to increase and overlap, along with mine, until I can’t separate the sounds. The elevator doors open. My mind starts racing, but before I can even land on a thought I feel your finger press and I know what I have to do. I start walking down the hall, with you following. You keep pace with me and your finger stays where it is, a single point of constant connection. We arrive at a door and I feel you slow behind me so I stop. You reach around me to use a keycard and push the handle down and the door open. Inside, the room is completely dark. I walk into it and you follow. The door closes heavily behind us. There’s a heavy pregnant moment. The uncertainty as to what you want, how far you want this to go, what you’ll make me do, hangs heavy in the darkness. I suddenly feel two hands I can’t see going under the sweatshirt to touch and then grip my sides. Your hands start moving up my sides, pushing your sweatshirt up ahead of them, and when first the shirt and then your hands reach my underarms they never stop moving. My arms just go up smoothly, like those wine openers that look like human heads, and the sweatshirt goes up my face as you push it up and finally off my raised hands. I hear the sweatshirt hit the floor in the dark. I feel your hands close around my wrists and bring my hands together on top of my head and sort of press them down, one on top of the other, like they’re staying a dog and telling me to leave my hands there. I understand the message. I feel those unseen hands leave my own hands resting obediently on my head, and your fingers slowly start running the length of my forearms, then my biceps. They come down over the hair under my arms and I make some quiet noise so they come back to that area and stay there for a moment. The effect on me is obvious, through my quickened breathing and the intimate sounds I start making From Alan: This is great, and I need to take time to read it more carefully tomorrow. From Ruiz: The true beginning, and the motivator, was your having imagined me in that cul de sac – which I have since been to at night. I stood there naked, in the dark, waiting for you to appear. I’ll wait again, until you do.
  9. RichEisbrouch

    Chapter 59

    Glad it started your day well.
  10. RichEisbrouch

    Chapter 59

    Approximately 33% of the interviewed persons who obtained benefits from these yoga activities said that these experiences freaked them out. As children, our dream is to save people by flying. A role model that saves people without flying would be doctors. These statements are like icebergs – most of their bulk is well below the surface. So let us dig up the surface and launch queries. The law prohibits people from murdering others because if everyone is given the right to do so, then no one can live a free life – at the same time one is murdering someone else, the person needs to be worried that someone will murder him. Franklin D. Roosevelt brought the Supreme Court out of the Great Depression. Dilettante teenagers being rushed with enthusiasm to show competitiveness and haughty superiority attempt to do trivial and raffish things. In the culture of the superheroes, justice is sometimes under the veil of darkness to fight evil. “Effective” means putting less time to do something but working out even greater. In the 17th century, Karl Marx had foreseen that people desired the power to harness physical things. Watergate caused huge economic losses and took the lives of soldiers on the battlefield. It will contribute to a result which is called “both win.” Everyone are bi-winners. If Picasso had not painted a design of an aeroplane, would the Right brothers be able to think of a machine which could actually fly? If Stephen Hawking hadn’t studied cosmotology... Planting one's brain to someone else's body can be possible in the near future. To decrease the cost to the minest and increase the profit to the greastest. When being at either end, one can not see the argument as a continuum. On the other hand, the untalented will descend into society. A President needs to maintain the highest mythical and moral standards. Bateman is the fictional hero of the city of Gootham. I'm 25-years-old and have suffered the consequences of this.
  11. RichEisbrouch

    Chapter 12

    Thanks. It's a strange little book in an odd series. But I often think it's very funny. Other people don't see that and are reading for other reasons, which are also, obviously, there. And thanks, generally, for reading along. The other section that's similar is the "Obey" section of the book "Obey."
  12. RichEisbrouch

    Chapter 6

    You know more about art and the world than I do. And since I retired, I almost never see my former dry cleaner -- other than to wave at him as I walk past his shop to the supermarket. But, previously, I think I put one of his kids through college -- well, a local college.
  13. RichEisbrouch

    Chapter 12

    14 From Ruiz In my mind, you told me to meet you in the park two hours ago. You told me to wear exactly what I wore the last time, all of which has become more powerful in my memory. I pull in and see you in the shadows. I get out of the car and you step into the light. There’s a silent moment as you look me up and down. Then you approach me and hold out both hands. I offer mine and you take them, pulling me out of the light and into the shadow with you. You turn me away from you and pull my wrists back behind me. I feel your hands on my shoulders then I look down to see them descending as they unbutton my shirt. Then my shirt is open and pulled back off my shoulders. I’m wearing the gray henley underneath. Before I know it you grab the bottom hem and pull the henley off over my head I feel my wrists - behind me again - being bound by something. I’m not sure what. I look down to see you unzipping my sneakers and pulling them off my feet. Then you lift my feet to pull off my socks. I feel your hands again on my shoulders, pushing me down and I kneel. You come around in front of me and kneel before me. Your hands go to my tear-away sweats and start unsnapping them slowly. I look around to see if anyone is watching but can’t tell. All the snaps are open now and you pull the sweats forward exposing my legs and ass. You look at the torn white briefs you told me to wear and find the elastic waistband is shot and pointless. You push the fabric aside and my hardon is exposed glistening with precome. Your fingers go into my inner thigh and I moan so loudly I’m convinced the cops will come. Then you stand in front of me and suddenly your hardon is in my face. I feel your hand on the back of my head pulling me toward it. As I rise the briefs fall down my thighs and pool there with my sweats. Your hands pull my face to your cock and I feel you open my lips with it. Then it’s in my mouth, plunging. I go at it wanting to be well thought of. There’s a faint taste of salt in my mouth and I know you’re precoming. I think about the view from the street. A guy kneeling before another guy. Blowing him. His hands are tied behind his back. His briefs and sweats are down. He’s barefoot with most of his clothes several feet away. I suck and suck. I feel your grip tighten on my head and I moan. I feel your cock pulse and then my mouth and throat are full and there’s so much. You keep your cock in my mouth and after I swallow, I clean it with my tongue. You finally withdraw and zip your jeans. You open the back door of my car and toss my clothes on the floor. You say one word - Keys. I say - Ignition. You pull me up and I see my sweats and shorts on the ground. You say “Step out of them” and I do. You turn me around, my back facing the car. You place your hand at the center of my bare chest and push me onto the seat. I sprawl across it, hands still tied behind my back. You toss the rest of my clothes in my face. You grasp my cock and I gasp. You bend my knees up and close the door. You start the car and I have no idea where we’re going. End From Alan: You’ve somehow made yourself more naked there than you have before. And I didn’t think that was possible. From Ruiz: I strongly believe every word I wrote could happen. You’d be driving me to a motel but I wouldn’t care. You’d walk me naked across the parking lot. I’d wake up in a dark room wondering where I was. But knowing I belonged there. From Alan: I hope you get to that place soon.
  14. RichEisbrouch

    Chapter 4

    I'm still trying to work out the difference between "middling class" and "muddling class." And gotta watch out for those dunk divers anyway.
  15. RichEisbrouch

    Chapter 11

    13 (continued) Ruiz: Ask me something else. From Alan: What do you want most to happen in a hotel room? Ruiz: I can just close my eyes and picture it. From Alan: What? Ruiz: So many things. You have me feeling so differently. Thinking so differently. Can I just be quiet for a minute. While you talk. From Alan: Sure. Sure thing. Though it’s great to hear your voice. Again, it makes a connection. [He hesitates.] From Alan: Touching you is important. Very important to me. Touching your chest to reassure you. Feeling the hair there. Letting you know how much I like it Since you’re so protective about your chest. That’s why I’m glad you’re naked now Fewer defenses. At least, no physical ones. You’re as open when you talk as when you’re writing. But as you said. Differently. Ruiz: Ohhhhhh. From Alan: Good. Keep going. Slowly. You still want me to talk. Ruiz: Yes. I wish it were your own voice. Ohhhhhh. [Alan unmutes the phone and begins to quietly speak.] Alan: Slowly. Ruiz: Oh, god. Alan: Imagine I’m gently running my fingers down your chest. Ruiz: Ohhhhhh. Alan: Imagine you’re kissing me. Ruiz: OHHHHH. [Alan laughs.] Alan: OK Too much there. Too soon. [Alan listens, but Ruiz is silent.] Alan: There are so many things I want you to imagine. And consider. I’ll slowly take off your clothes. You’ll take off mine. We’ll stand just touching. Chest to chest. We’re almost the same height. I can look in your eyes. You’ll keep them open. Unlike now. I’m guessing. I’m sure they’re closed. Ruiz: Ohhhhhh. Alan: Gently. Gently. We’ll walk to the bathroom. Side by side. Maybe my arm around your shoulder. I’ll test the water. Get it right. You’ll step in. I’ll help. Then follow. We’ll both get wet. Like we are now. Only different. Ruiz: Ohhhhhh. Alan: Yeah. Yeah. We’ll shower. I’ll soap your chest. And hair. Your belly. Your legs. You’ll soap mine. As slowly as you know how. After we rinse, we’ll let the tub fill. Relax in the nice warm water. Your feet on my chest. Which is slightly less hairy than yours. Though I was blond when I was younger. Stayed that way for a very long time. Into my late thirties. Then it got darker. But you can still tell I was a towhead. It hasn’t gone gray. Ruiz: Ohhhhhh. Alan: I’ll play with your toes. Since they’re right in my face. Suck on your toes. Ruiz: Ohhhhhh. Alan: Yep. That gets ‘em every time. Some guys think I have a thing about feet. Which I don’t. Just something I was taught. Don’t even remember by who. Maybe a woman. That doesn’t do much for you. I know. But it does for me. [No reaction from Ruiz.] Alan: Another time. I’ll suck gently on your toes, and you’ll discover the pleasure of your whole body being wet. As slick as your dick is now. Ruiz: Ohhhhhh. From Alan: Yep, back with me. No women allowed. Guys only. Stroking. Rubbing those special places. That crease. Knowing it’s no longer secret. Ruiz: Ohhhhhh. From Alan: Nothing’s secret. Not now. You’re naked. Naked for me. And you want to be. You wish I was there. I wish I were. Maybe someday. Someday soon. Sooner than we realize. Despite my discipline. Damn my discipline. Fuck my rules. I’m thinking with my dick now, and it hurts. It’s all I can do to keep my hands on this phone. On the desk. Imagining you. Imagining I’m with you. Now that we’re connected. You let this happen. Made it happen tonight. Maybe I’ll let the hotel room happen. Ruiz: Ohhhhhh. From Alan: This is so amazing. I thought it would be much further off. And you keep opening up. You’re amazing. I’m not sure what you’re driven by. Not sure I’ll ever know. We could be so different under different circumstances. But this is something apart. I’m not sure what. Now you need to concentrate. Just on yourself. I’m going to stop talking. Just go slowly. Don’t rush. But make yourself happy. Ruiz: Ohhhhhh. Ohhhhhh. Ohhhhhh. Ohhhhhh. Ohhhhhh. Ohhhhhh. Ohhhhhh. Ohhhhhh. Ohhhhhh. Ohhhhhh. OHHH! [Alan waits.] Alan: That a boy. That’s a good boy. That’s a good man. Let it ease out. All of it. Gently touch yourself. Gently. Ease. Out. Ease down. Come down. Talk when you want to. Keep your eyes closed. Or open. As you wish. Appreciate the darkness. The warmth. Yourself. [Silence. Another minute.] Ruiz: I can talk now. What have you been doing. I thought maybe you’d gone. Alan: Nope. Just waiting. Waiting for you to catch up. Ruiz: Touching yourself. Alan: Not yet. Letting that pass. It’s too late for a shower. Even in the basement. I’d make too much noise. Ruiz: Are you disappointed. Alan: In what? You? [Alan quietly laughs.] Alan: No. [He laughs again.] [Ruiz laughs.] Ruiz: “Only connect,” right. Alan: I don’t think that’s what Forster had in mind. Not in that book. Who knows? [They laugh together.] Ruiz: Thank you. Alan: It was an absolute pleasure. Ruiz: That was more intense than if I’d been there. If we’d been together. I told you things I wouldn’t have. I was picturing the paperboy. Did things with him I always wanted to. Alan: Good. And you were protected by your familiar room Ruiz: No. It’s not that. I’d have no defenses against him. I have none against you. You own me. Alan: Hardly. That’s your dick thinking. And maybe mine. We both need a good night’s sleep. I need a long shower. Tomorrow. We’ll catch up tomorrow. Ruiz: Are you going to think about me. Falling asleep. From Alan: How can you ask? Ruiz: Goodnight. Alan: Yep. ‘Night. Ruiz: Thanks again. Alan: You’re welcome.
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