Web Guys - 5. Chapter 5

Marshall

From Alan: Just saying hello again. The problem doesn’t seem a lack of interest on either of our parts, just a lack of an available place to play.

From Marshall: Yes, the problem is definitely not interest, but location – what to do? You could, however, keep me posted if something changes.

From Alan: If I trusted motels, that would solve our problem. But I don’t find them safe places to play. Hope you’re finding interesting guys to be around.

From Marshall: Not lately. And I don’t trust motels, either. Not even a friend’s house..

From Alan: I don’t understand why a guy as good-looking and as willing as you are isn’t playing around more often. For me, being married and trying to juggle the logistics, certainly helps keep me faithful.

From Marshall: It’s not that. I’m openly gay and unattached. But right now, I live with my infirm parent, so it’s not feasible to host this kind of play. Very kind of you to be patient.

From Alan: So that’s why a nice guy like you isn’t settled in with a partner – you’re kindly taking care of one of your parents. Hard to fuck a man who’s that considerate, but I’ll try to forget that if we ever meet.

From Marshall: Let’s hope that day occurs. And forget I’m a nice guy when we’re naked. Those times I don’t need to be nice. In fact, I look forward to forgetting everything about my life.

From Alan: That’s what’s sex is for.

From Marshall: And drugs. And drinking. And I’ve tried all three, but I prefer sex.

From Alan: Why just being fucked? Why not share?

From Marshall: I don’t know. It’s the way I was raised. Church-going and all. Sex was good for having children, but no one ever said anything about it being fun. And if you’re having sex for fun, and you’re having it with men, then you deserve just to be fucked.

From Alan: Do you enjoy it?

From Marshall: I enjoy knowing it’s something I shouldn’t be doing. But the actual act of having some guy pumping at my asshole hurts more than anything.

From Alan: Then they’re doing it wrong.

From Marshall: Every guy? What are the odds?

From Alan: How many guys have there been?

From Marshall: Well, you figure. I’m 37. I’ve been doing this since I was 16. I’ve lost count.

From Alan: Where do you meet them?

From Marshall: Use to be bars. That’s when I was still living home and just started drinking. Then it was bars, but I had my own place. Now it’s mostly online.

From Alan: There aren’t that many guys in Iowa.

From Marshall: Not on this site. But new guys keep turning up.

From Alan: And you grab them?

From Marshall: If they’re interested, I let them grab me. But it’s getting harder. I’m not the twink I was in my 20's.

From Alan: You look like a grown man should.

From Marshall: I’m still short. I’ve got that going for me.

From Alan: You like taller guys?

From Marshall: Guys like being taller. Even if they’re only 5' 9". It gives them a sense of power.

From Alan: I’ve never used my height for that.

From Marshall: Come off it.

From Alan: No. For one thing, I’m not that tall. I’ve met plenty of guys taller than I am.

From Marshall: Not plenty.

From Alan: OK, some. Of the guys I’ve had sex with.

From Marshall: Well, you’re tall to me. And I’d love to have you fuck me on the floor.

From Alan: Why the floor?

From Marshall: Because it doesn’t give like a bed. It’s not soft. I like lying face down with my ass in the air and the hardwood pressing against my chest.

From Alan: So you’re thinking of a particular floor.

From Marshall: I guess. The one in my first apartment. That’s where I had the most sex.

From Alan: Why did you give it up?

From Marshall: The apartment? It was crummy. Really cheap. Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore.

From Alan: You could find another one like it.

From Marshall: I tried. And I did sometimes. But I like newer places for other reasons.

From Alan: You could take up the carpets.

From Marshall: Most places have plywood floors. It’s not the same.

From Alan: I’ve never thought about it.

From Marshall: My bedroom here is great. The house is over 100 years old. It belonged to my grandparents. And my room isn’t the one I had growing up. It was my sister’s. So I love rolling back the carpet, lying naked on my chest, and pretending I’m being fucked on my sister’s bedroom floor.

From Alan: Too bad you can’t bring a guy home. It might be more fun.

From Marshall: There’s no way.

From Alan: Even if you came here, and I somehow snuck you in the house – which I’d unfortunately never do – it’s wall-to-wall carpet.

From Marshall: Right now, I’d compromise.

From Alan: You make it sound like it’s been a long since you last had sex.

From Marshall: Don’t make me think.

From Alan: That bad?

From Marshall: At least 3 months ago. It was around my birthday. I wasn’t going another year without being fucked.

From Alan: A year?

From Marshall: It wasn’t that long. It just seemed that way. I was very busy here, and things got bad, and there was a hospital stay. And when you’re worried about keeping someone alive, you don’t think a lot about sex. At least I don’t.

From Alan: I’ve never been in that situation.

From Marshall: I hope you never are.

From Alan: Are you doing this alone?

From Marshall: I have to. I’m the last one in the state. And I wasn’t here till things got bad. Then everyone looked at me and said “You’re the one who’s unattached.”

From Alan: Sweet of them.

From Marshall: Oh, I love them all. And they love me, but they were right. I could easily get a new job. I wasn’t married. I didn’t have kids in school. I didn’t own a house.

From Alan: You may, eventually.

From Marshall: Not soon I hope.

From Alan: I didn’t mean that.

From Marshall: No offense taken

From Alan: Thanks.

From Marshall: And I wouldn’t live here anyway. I’d be out of town as soon as the will was read.

From Alan: But you’re not rushing that?

From Marshall: No, though I’m alone much too much. And I lied about not thinking about sex. I do. That’s why I’m online.

From Alan: I wish we could figure something out.

From Marshall: We may. But not tonight. Tonight it’s the hardwood floor.

From Alan: That’s an awful thought.

From Marshall: No, it’s fun. And once my ass is in the air, I can get my hand under and reach my dick. I jerk off pretending I’m being fucked.

From Alan: Wish I were there.

From Marshall: To watch?

From Alan: To show you there are better ways.

From Marshall: Maybe I don’t want to meet you.

From Alan: Why?

From Marshall: Because if I knew there was something I was missing then I’d miss it.

From Alan: You need to know.

From Marshall: I’d get depressed.

From Alan: I don’t mean to do that.

From Marshall: You didn’t. I thought of it myself.

From Alan: Well, be nice to yourself. Be as nice as you are to whichever one of your parents you’re taking care of.

From Marshall: I don’t hurt myself. I’d never do that. I see the pictures some guys put online and I just want to block them out.

From Alan: I know.

From Marshall: I feel so sorry for them.

From Alan: Me, too.

From Marshall: But what are you going to do? Maybe they’re all taking care of their parents.

From Alan: Their own private hardwood floors?

From Marshall: I don’t know what you mean.

From Alan: It was a joke. Their own little hells.

From Marshall: It always comes back to the church.

From Alan: Just take care of yourself.

From Marshall: I will.

From Alan: And we’ll figure something out. You’ve given me reason.