The Married Rat - 17. Chapter 17

23

From Alan: Home. Uneventfully. My daughters are actually still asleep. My wife’s on the phone, I think talking with her sister. I’ll write more later but just a few thoughts about what I’m thinking.

From Ruiz: Home then.

From Alan: Yep. Obviously, it was great to meet you.

From Ruiz: Still processing here.

From Alan: And it seems you realized pretty quickly that I was harmless and dropped any of the defenses you warned me I might see.

You relaxed. Which made it easy for me to explore.

The first time with any two people there’s so much to learn. But you’re nicely responsive.

I wish I could’ve figured out how to keep you where you got to several times. And keep you there longer.

I also didn’t mean to make you physically uncomfortable. I know I did toward the end.

Working up to your release.

I wish there’d been a bit more light. Then I could tell if there’d been any pleasure on your face. It only seemed to reflect pain.

The problem with sex is it turns some people’s faces into paintings of religious martyrs.

Not my intention, and I hope you had fun.

More tonight. Just wanted to get you that much.

From Ruiz: Thank you.

Thank you very much.

Hope you have a very good day.

From Alan: I plan to. I just need to keep this stupid grin off my face.

24

From Alan: I hardly know where to begin. Two hours. So many feelings.

First off, absolutely, your last warning, “I’m really very average so reduce your expectations,” is wrong. No one has to reduce their expectations. In our own ways, we’re all average and not.

In any case, wow, you went so much further than I expected. Especially considering your nervousness. And you managed to go so much faster. When I walked in, after my eyes adjusted, I almost didn’t see you on the bed. I thought you were a pile of dark throw pillows on the white sheet. Then I realized that had to be you. Sitting up against the headboard. Knees pulled against your chest. Arms tight around your knees. An upright fetal ball.

When I could begin to see your face, I was mainly aware of your mouth moving. I couldn’t figure it out. One side almost seemed to be drooping. I thought, “Of course – he’s autistic. Why didn’t I realize that?” It explains your not being married. Your not dating. I’ve worked on-and-off with autistic kids. I just didn’t make the connection. Except you seem to have a lot of friends. You’re always going out to dinner. So it didn’t make sense. Then you took the piece of gum out of your mouth, and I nearly laughed.

After that, it was just a matter of moving slowly, as you wanted: Uncurling you. Stretching you out. Letting you comfortably feel my hands on your body. Then going: Shoe. Shoe. Sock. Sock. Half unbutton the sweat pants. Slowly unbutton the shirt. Finish the sweat pants. Ease off the shirt. Slip off the sweat pants. Roll Henley up arms and chest then over head. Keep ripped briefs for modesty. Put glasses carefully on the night stand. Continue exploring. Finally, peel off briefs. And – following your last warning – I was expecting resistance. But got none.

Instead, you were relaxed and passively stripped in under an hour. I was checking my watch because I had no real sense of time and didn’t want to overstay. I wasn’t worried about my excuses. They’re often flexible. But I didn’t want you overstimulated.

Still, I was surprised. It was an hour, and there you were: Calm. Aroused. Naked.

You’d even spoken. Admittedly, in a whisper. You’d said, “God,” when – close to the start – I’d slipped my hand under your sweats and accidentally touched that crease. At that point, you’d been breathing fairly heavily, but I still didn’t expect you to speak. And I never understand why guys invoke religion the don’t believe in.

We almost followed your rules about your clothes. You briefs were really ragged, offering little protection for that drooling hardon. That’s why I folded your sweats and placed them modesty, to offer more protection. It was also fun to hear the snaps down their legs seem to open by themselves – when my hands were exploring your calves. And I almost left your Henley on, knowing how protective you are about your chest. I was reminded when you suddenly said, “I need to pee. Please turn toward the window.” It’s always funny that when a guy’s on his back, his body looks more toned. But on his feet, gravity attacks. In any case, it was charming.

And you’ve got a fine body, kid. Among other things, it’s very responsive. The first time I got you going, I couldn’t figure out what did it – there were too many variables. I was tickling under your arms and toying with that crease, and you had one hand on your dick and the other on your belly. It could have been anything. I can’t extend moments like that without more information. Even then, the body sometime overloads and shuts down. So you’ve got to move on.

But where? You mentioned the crack of your butt. And your nipples seemed sensitive. The back of my hand on your lips made you wriggle nicely. But none of that was the heavy-breathing, lurching, head almost off the bed and stuck against the night table. You’d reached that several times before. Your feet, calves, thighs, balls, sides, palms, arms shoulders, face, ears, head all seem to give you pleasure. But nothing intense.

Your dick’s interesting, too. It was mainly soft, well past the time you were naked. But constantly dripping. And all of a sudden, it would get hard, and seem to double, and I thought it was going to float like a balloon or point towards water. Then it was soft again.

I knew you were aroused. After you’d peaked at one point, I replaced your hand on your dick, and it seemed almost to have a bone in it. Maybe that’s why it can’t stay that way for very long and doesn’t need to. Why hyper-extent when normal flex will do? And I was surprised how very long you can go while being stroked. But maybe I wasn’t hitting the most sensitive areas.

I usually let guys masturbate for me – the first time. So I can see what they’re used to. But you use an approach I’ve never been able to mirror. Not facing a guy. Your hand comes down over the top of your dick, with the head against your palm, and your fingers stroking its sides. The only way I can do that is by sitting behind a guy, with my hands mimicking his. And then I lose seeing his face. So I’ve developed other ways.

But I never should’ve taken you to release. I thought I knew enough by the time we started using the lube. But I was wrong. I mistimed and might even have hurt you. There’s nothing worse than being hot for two hours then having a bad, rushed, finish. I should’ve let you do it.

And I’m not sure I should’ve gone up your ass. I know you didn’t want it, and it’s not something we talked about. But whenever my fingers went near there, you were suddenly jumping and leaping and dodging all over the bed. And when my finger slipped in, it’s like it was a vibrator. I’ve seen guys that way – women, too, but you don’t want to hear about that. And I couldn’t see your face. Mainly the dark opening of your mouth. Your eyes slammed shut. Your contorted features. But sometimes that’s pain, and I’d need to know you better to be sure it was pleasure. So I hope I didn’t hurt you.

As for the gentle stroking afterwards – yeah, there’s a time when some guys’ dicks need to be left alone. But some want attention. As some guys want to disappear immediately after they shoot. They can’t wait to get their clothes on, get out of there, and race back to “normal life.” Some guys even immediately deny what’s just happened – even if it’s lasted for two or three hours. And some guys want to cuddle long past the time I’m interested in being a plush toy.

Finally, I don’t know where you go from here. Some guys never recover after being that vulnerable. But you keep pushing yourself. Clearly want more. So I can’t guess where your imagination’ll take you.

From Ruiz: Thank you for all that. I take it I generally exceeded your expectations.

From Alan: You could say that and be giving me an English teacher demonstration of “understatement.”

From Ruiz: Ha.

From Alan: You could also say you forced me into exceeding my expectations. Eased me into it.

From Ruiz: Ha.

From Alan: Your being able to relax guided so much of that. I’m not getting into a cock-measuring contest and asking, “How was it for you?” But, yeah, you were great, kid.

From Ruiz: Thank you. I was worried the whole thing might be an act of kindness on your part.

From Alan: You’re a funny man. That was no kindness. It was completely selfish. Stupidly risky. Borderline self-destructive. But pure pleasure on my part.

From Ruiz: Thank you again.

From Alan: You’ve got to stop thanking guys for letting them abuse you.

From Ruiz: Ha. I’ll try.

From Alan: Ditch all those nuns from your childhood.

From Ruiz: Did I tell you about them.

From Alan: They’re spread all over your face.

From Ruiz: Ha.

From Alan: Much said for being raised an atheist. Or twisting that way.

From Ruiz: I thought you could see better in that light. I wasn’t in fetal position when you came in. I had one knee up rather than both legs flat on the bed.

You have a interesting walk. And your voice is always deeper than I think.

From Alan: Too many years of playing basketball. Jumping, to get past taller guys. And cheering myself hoarse from the sidelines.

From Ruiz: I’ll bet you’re a great coach.

From Alan: Retired now. Higher aspirations.

And I could see better in time. But never what I wanted. I should’ve turned on a light. I didn’t to give you privacy.

From Ruiz: Nothing happened that I was uncomfortable with. Even if you ignored certain limits. Everything was new. And despite my early nervousness, I was actually fairly calm.

Plus I had two shots of vodka from the minibar.

From Alan: For breakfast? That’s a lousy habit.

From Ruiz: Nothing I’ve done before.

And it was a sweet of you to give me privacy. I didn’t see it - or remember.

From Alan: Being somewhat occupied.

From Ruiz: I can’t wait to reread this.

From Alan: I knew that. It’s why I was so detailed, and I hope I haven’t been too analytic. But I know you like fuel for fantasies.

From Ruiz: Appreciated. Along with your kind words in the room.

From Alan: You constantly underestimate your appeal.

From Ruiz: I doubt that’s true.

From Alan: And I don’t know you well enough to know why.

From Ruiz: It’s an honest reaction though. And not something I want to fix.

From Alan: Not sure I understand that.

From Ruiz: I can’t let myself get too self-centered - or even more self-centered. It’s like you me wrote the other night - “Are you expecting me to jerk you off every night on the phone?” This whole thing was about me and I wanted it that way. And it’s fun being something of an object. But I can’t let it go on. So I don’t mind that I don’t get my own appeal - if that makes sense.

From Alan: You’re far from a narcissistic sociopath.

From Ruiz: Going back to English teacher talk.

From Alan: Yeah, always got to watch that vocabulary.

From Ruiz: Ha.

From Alan: Anyway, you were partly an object because – at least in that room – I could’ve been some dickless Ken doll. My clothes could’ve been painted on and weren’t going anywhere. But don’t think for a second you weren’t giving me pleasure.

From Ruiz: Thank you for saying that.

From Alan: You still don’t know what you do to me.

From Ruiz: You’ve told me that before. So I guess nothing’s really changed.

From Alan: Don’t kid yourself – enormous things have changed. We can ease back, and that would be fine – I don’t want you under pressure. But you willingly – easily – gave up a lot of your defenses. That could change our relationship. And undermine your fantasies. On the good side, it could take away some fears.

From Ruiz: I don’t really feel bad about any of this.

From Alan: So it wasn’t rape?

From Ruiz: What.

No.

Why would it be.

Absolutely not.

From Alan: But now you aren’t sure.

From Ruiz: Why did you even bring it up.

From Alan: Because it’s always been in your fantasies. Actually, it’s all your fantasies. Without meaning to offend you, it seems you mainly want to be forced into having sex – at least, with guys. And on some level – maybe way down and finally not even very important – you might just be asking permission to live as a gay man.

From Ruiz: You mean be forced to.

From Alan: I never said that.

From Ruiz: Well, I don’t have much choice.

From Alan: The point is you don’t need one. It’s a good thing to be. A good way to live. As I have said, we live at a lucky time.

From Ruiz: Would you make that choice. If it really was a decision.

From Alan: I’d have to give up so much by going narrow. My daily life might be easier, and I might make some people happier. But I’d give up so much.

From Ruiz: You might go further politically.

From Alan: I’m not sure how much of that’s an illusion.

From Ruiz: So “No.”

From Alan: Definitely.

Among other things, it would mean never having seen you in that hotel.

Never watching you twitch.

That was too much fun.

From Ruiz: Thanks again.

I don’t know how to say this and I don’t know how it’s going to be received but I want to see you naked.

I want to touch your hardon.

I want to make you twitch.

From Alan: We’ll have to see.

From Ruiz: I won’t push then.

I’ve done that once.

Kind of forced you.

But I want to be nice to you the way you were by not turning on that light.

25

From Alan: It’s late Sunday night, almost Monday morning. You could be at a late dinner. Could be driving home from a movie or from friends. Or you could be asleep. I have about 45 minutes of work to do, so I’ll be around.

From Ruiz: Actually I’m at this bar somewhere in Marion. With my closest friend watching the midnight hot wax flogging show.

From Alan: What?

From Ruiz: What the what.

From Alan: You suddenly seem to be more openly gay than I suspected. Though I never asked. It didn’t seem important.

From Ruiz: It’s not.

From Alan: Then I’ll let you go back to gawking. Catch up tomorrow.

From Ruiz: Sure. Usual time.

From Alan: I’d say, “Don’t take off your shirt,” but I don’t think that’s in play.

From Ruiz: No way.

From Alan: ‘Night.